Draconian Awakening

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. They were simply legends. Ferocious beasts with nothing but stories and statues to uphold their worth. The people gave the statues offerings and worshiped them. These fire breathing creatures as tall as trees were claimed protectors of the Ankhalians. They weaved stories of dragons into their clothes. Their weapons were said to have scales on the handles and claws for the blades. To welcome you fully into their clan, you were said to have to swallow fire. The way the Chieftain is chosen, is if they can spit the fire back out. It has only been done once.

The Cheiftain of the Ankhala, Verinda, was said to reside far away, making home in the skull of a dragon. No one has ever seen her, only ever hearing from her when changes were needed. I was the only thing to rest eyes on her in the century she has ruled. I was her protector. The one she chose to rise and share morality with. Sadly, one ruler cannot last forever, and some changes cannot be undone.

The death of Chieftain Verinda caused a mass uproar. Screams of the Elders shook the sky and the tears of weeping kin watered the crops. I felt as if I failed. Though with all the abilities I was given, one was not defying time. With time, there was only so much. Which means I have a limited time to accept a Chieftain until the contract ends and the awakening begins. Yrza have mercy if that day comes.

Mercy isn't a given, despite how long and hard you beg. Some things just aren't meant to happen. Days passed and I felt myself stiffening as I awaited the next Chieftain. There were no longer offerings or prayers. As if time truly froze. Though I was horribly wrong. Time wasn't frozen, it was the people. Each time I looked over to them, they were hidden. Very few left their shelters to gather crops, but returned just as fast. Hope was lost and no one wanted to step up to the throne. That was the beginning of their worst mistake. Fear can cause horrid things, and they were about to become witnesses.

One day, everything felt still. Until the sky clouded over far too quickly and the ground began to shake. Pieces of the draconian statues crumbled, slowly revealing scales. Thunder unmatched to growls erupting from what was once motionless. The dragons were waking up. Slowly, but not slow enough for the people to safely escape. Their joints cracking into place, their colorful scales gaining shine once more. Even the skull Verinda once reside in, began rattling. We were too late.

The dragons claws touched ground after millennium. Within seconds, the dragons wiped out half of the village with just their tails. The spikes that covered their back already piercing each other and the Ankhalians as they gained their posture. Screams were heard for miles, startling the dragons and gaining their attention, causing them to move closer and closer. Even I could smell the chaos begging to be unleashed. I could feel myself wanting to succumb to it, despite watching the suffering of people I helped raise. My mouth was salivating, my eyes glazing over, but I kept still. As if I was forced to where I stand.

That didn't stop the others. They've finally risen and they are angry. Nobody was safe from the fury that the dragons carried. The speed of their wings causing high winds and weather changes. They attacked each other, ripping wings off. Horns were getting stuck to each others and there was nothing further they could do other than claw and set everything ablaze. Once protectors, now predators. Statues that were worshiped, now fighting in the sky. Fighting into the water. Few dragons standing on the mountains, shooting balls of fire to each other. They were taking out homes and forests. Killing each other.

The screams died out, but they didn't stop. Bodies getting thrown in the air and hung on the horns of multiple dragons. The dragons that once presented 6 wings, were left with 3 and became ground dwellers, no longer able to carry themselves. Horns and teeth were being broken off. Limbs broken, chewed off or eaten. Traumatizing wasn't a strong enough word, especially now that Mount Yr began shaking. Which could only mean one thing.

Yrza has woken up. The King. The dragon that became a mountain rather than a statue. His size was unfathomable. The Valley was said to be created by the dragging of his tail. He was unstoppable. Stories crossed the lands saying earthquakes were caused by his mere breathing. Some claimed to have seen pieces of him peeking through the trees. Stories are nothing compared to now. We were about to see all of him.

His eyes began opening, one after the other until all 5 were visible. Despite being far in the distance, you could see all of him as he slowly stood. The trees slide off of him like a blanket. The waterfall that once cascaded off of him evaporated from the heat of his exposed, black skin, barely visible through his silver scales. His multiple horns grew into the shape of a crown and his wings spread their full length. He's come home.

The dragons paid no mind, until Yrza unleashed a roar meant to level mountains. They stopped in their tracks, turning to him to bow. As did I. I knew better than to defy our creator. His presence caused inferiority, something that amused him. If dragons could laugh, he would be tickled to death. Though it was no time for laughter, he needed food. Unfortunately, we were the perfect candidates.

When we were no longer frozen in fear, we scattered like ants after stepping in their hill. It was no use. The dragons started dropping like flies. Once predators now prey to their own kind. Tearing into each other, trying to sacrifice weak ones. Luckily, I remained hidden. Waiting to come to my senses.

Fire being shot into the sky snapped me to reality. The sudden heat and light shaking me to my core as I began my escape. Dodging everything I could, trying to not make much noise. The sounds of chaos and the earth shaking beneath my feet was enough to keep me going until I reached a cave. A safe space for now, not too far off of the battlefield in case I can go back for food or survivors.

So here I stay, in a dark damp cave. One of the last sane dragons standing. As the chaos dies down, I rest, quietly. I pray that I feel my body seal over with cement and there's peace once more. Though, not all prayers are met with an answer. Peace was not an option, for there are dragons in the Valley.