Romulus and Nero

Chapter 1

A pitch black blur plummeted through the overcast skies above the great forest, Daedalum, parting great, grey clouds in explosive fashion. The sound of the sonic booms above sent swarms of birds, rodents and other small fauna scurrying furiously in every direction. They could not see the skies above for the trees were large; the forest vast and labyrinthine. They could not see what was coming, but they knew that they must run. The obsidian mass suddenly opened up, unfurling its massive wings, decelerating rapidly before crashing through the dense branches and hitting the ground with great speed. A thunderous crash split the ominous silence of the forest, before falling deathly silent once again. A nameless black dragon lay in the crater he had just formed, golden ichor painting the ground beneath him and congealing at numerous gashes scattered along the length of his body. He did not move, or rather he couldn’t. Suddenly he heard rumbling as the forest came alive, entire trees shifting to block out the light shining through the hole he had just created, dimming the forest to almost darkness. He exhaled the breath he had only just realised was held in since before he hit the ground and unable to keep his eyes open and his mind awake any longer he allowed himself to slip away.

He later awoke not knowing how much time had passed. Dragons operate on a different scale to most other species. They live for centuries and have been known to hibernate for years at a time, yet somehow their muscles are immune to atrophy. He groggily inspected the ground beneath him where lush grass had grown and roses of a deep scarlet outlined his body. He shuddered as his body tried to wake itself up, before raising himself onto his four legs, all thick as tree trunks. He inspected himself, noting that his body sported no signs of his previous wounds. He then enveloped himself in his wings to insulate himself from the cold and attempted to find his bearings but to his dismay the forest looked exactly the same in every direction. However, as if in response to his thoughts, little holes opened between the leaves allowing little rays of light to shine through. It appeared the forest was forming a path for him to follow and, warily, he did.

The rays of light led him to a small river, where luminescent, turquoise flowers grew along its length. Allowing his curiosity to take hold he brought his nostrils to one such flower and as he approached, it suddenly turned black. He grumbled in disgust and moved on towards the water. As he peered into the river there was barely enough light to see his reflection, but he could see it. He continued to examine himself sombrely as be began recollecting how he had come to be in this place, recalling a time when his scales were green, as all dragons’ are prior to their coming of age ceremony. He wistfully recalled the decade he spent fighting with all manner of beasts over territory in the wastelands far east of the centrally-located human capital before he felt the pulling in his chest summoning him to the Mountain of Elders. He recalled unclenching his maw from the neck of the goat head of a chimera and flying for a week to reach the northwestern most point of the continent. There he saw a vast mountain range before him and honed in on the summit of the tallest mountain. There was a circular plateau just below the summit where four ancient dragons, each a master of one of the four fundamental elements, awaited him. There were other young dragons there as well though they were no longer green but were instead all greatly varying in shades. He figured they had undergone the ritual before him and were now true elemental dragons.

“The time of your awakening has come, young one,” spoke Terrak, Archdragon of Earth, in a voice that rumbled like a landslide.

“By the grace of the dragon god, you shall be reborn,” added Venti, Archdragon of Wind, whose voice, to no surprise, could only be described as the exact opposite of Terrak’s.

“Touch the heart of the dragon god,” continued Venti, motioning towards the heart shaped crystal in the centre of the plateau, “and grasp your destiny as witnessed by the Archdragons Terrak, Ignica, Fluvius and Venti.”

As instructed by the elders, the once green dragon approached the crystal and pressed his forehead against it. His vision went blank and in an instant he experienced more sensations and emotions than he had in his century of existence prior. The only way to describe it would be simultaneous searing pain and intense euphoria accompanied by an abyssal dread. As his senses calmed and his vision returned the first thing he saw upon looking into the crystal heart was an obsidian face looking back at him; it was his own.

He looked to the elders, knowing that his new complexion was highly unusual. Black dragons had never before been sighted, or even spoken of. He was an impossible existence. To his dismay all those around him had already assumed battle stance, the elders included.

“Preposterous,” roared Ignica, unintentionally summoning lightning to strike the peak of the mountain overlooking the plateau.

“What manner of corruption is this?” asked Fluvius, rhetorically, his voice quivering despite his renowned calm demeanour.

The other newly awakened dragons hissed and grumbled aggressively at the black dragon, who began to take backward steps in fear.

Surprisingly, it was the eldest dragon of all, the renowned pacifist, Venti, who made the first move swiping her massive talons through the air, directing a wind blade towards the black dragon, who barely dodged in time, taking a gash to his right hind leg. Golden ichor immediately began to pour out, the sight of which appeared to enrage Venti but before she had the chance to ready another attack the black dragon had already dove off the plateau. After a brief pause, two of the other young dragons, who were the first to recover from the shock of what they had just witnessed, leapt to give chase.

The black dragon had amassed immense speed. If there was one thing he was most confident in, it was his agility. He assumed he would be hunted no matter where he went so he flew south. For some reason the southwestern part of the continent remained largely unpopulated by intelligent life and the black dragon figured he would be less likely to encounter enemies there. Once he was safe he could think about what to do next, but first he would need to evade his pursuers. He flew low and fast, trying to keep to the shadows, hoping his new black scales would blend him in. He would need to throw them off his scent before escaping the mountain ranges into open plains, where there would be scarce cover to hide in. He had flown for only ten minutes before feeling a boulder rocket into the left side of his body. One of his pursuers was a brown earth dragon, though how he had caught up so fast remained a mystery until a wind blade narrowly missed the black dragon. Of course a being that could control wind could negate wind resistance and provide a swift tailwind to assist even the notoriously slow earth dragons. The black dragon knew immediately that if he eliminated the wind dragon first he could escape knowing the other couldn’t keep up with him, assuming no other pursuers followed. However, combating two awakened dragons simultaneously would not be easy. He thrust himself upwards, trying to gain altitude and create distance from the earth dragon, who was flying immediately to his left, but was immediately buffeted by a gust of wind from above, while another boulder impacted his ribs winding him temporarily. He steadied and threw himself to at the earth dragon, curling into a ball before the moment of impact. He bounced off the rugged earth dragon damaging only his own bones and pride. Physical attacks would not work against an earth dragon, and he could not get close enough to the wind dragon to land an effective attack. The black dragon had no elemental affinity that he knew of. He would not last long. He continued to be battered by his adversaries for what felt like an eternity. His wings felt heavy and out of the corner of his eye he could see the earth dragon preparing a spearlike rock to hurl at him. He was going to die. The rock came at him and by instinct he barrel-rolled, his wing clipping the rock and redirecting it at just the right angle to jet into the left eye of the wind dragon flying above. It screeched in pain as it veered to the right, crashing into a sheer cliff. As if gaining a second wind, the black dragon took the opportunity to thrust himself forward, aiming to fly as fast as his wings would carry him, exiting the cover of the mountain ranges. He flew, high soaring above the clouds to ensure nothing below could see him. He flew for days, not allowing himself to make the mistake of stopping and allowing his pursuers to catch up, until his body could not bear the stress any longer and he began to plummet towards an expansive forest below.

Chapter 2

Having had enough of reliving his most painful memories, the black dragon drew his mouth closer to the flowing stream and began to drink. His thirst indicated that he had been in hibernation for longer than ever before. It must have been at least 3 years. Flying south was the correct decision after all. But what was he to do from here? Surely word would have travelled around by now that a cursed dragon had been born by the ritual. What was the nature of this curse? Was it even a curse? There were so many questions. While absent-mindedly following the river the he began to look inwards. In any case, while the changes to his physiology were unprecedented, he did not feel any weaker than before. In fact it was quite the opposite. He felt powerful, yet did not know the nature of his power. While there was much he did not know, he was by no means an idiot. The colour of his scales betrays some kind of power, though he did not know what.

Suddenly, his pondering was interrupted by the snapping of a twig. He noticed an orange blur in the corner of his eye. He snapped his head in its direction, spotting an unfortunate fox, who had drawn the attention of a famished dragon. The dragon surged forward and in a single leap closed a distance of roughly thirty metres, vicelike jaws closing around the fox’s torso. He tossed the fox into the air and caught it once again but this time in a single motion swallowed it whole. Having tasted his first meal in years, his senses came alive. His nostrils suddenly attuned to the smells of the forest, including other prey. He smelt the familiar scent of fox nearby and immediately galloped in that direction. This grey fox was more evasive, moving between toppled hollow logs for cover and squeezing through crevasses in boulders. Somehow every time the dragon closed the distance, the fox seemed to accelerate enough to keep out of reach. The dragon found it unusual but kept in pursuit nonetheless. He could feel his own movements becoming sharper and more efficient as he chased, growing ever more accustomed to moving after having slumbered for so long and yet the fox always stayed just out of reach. He eventually lost track of how long he had been running, until finally he slid to a halt, exasperated. He roared a roar that echoed through the forest, scattering the birds observing from the branches above. The forest quickly returned to silence once again, but then he heard it.

The dragon closed his eyes, attuning his ears to the noise he had heard ever so faintly. He began to walk, eyes still closed, as he followed the sound which gradually grew louder and louder. He was not mistaken, he had definitely heard the wailing of a child; a human child. What was a human child doing in this part of the world? Humans had not colonised the southwest of the continent. Had that much changed in the few years the dragon had been asleep? He broke into a canter, using both eyes and ears this time until finally he reached a clearing. It took him a few seconds to adjust to the sunlight, which he had not seen in all its brilliance in a very long time, and once he did his suspicions were confirmed. There, in the middle of the clearing, knelt a human child, no more than three years old. His modest clothing, a beige, long-sleeved woollen shirt and brown trousers betrayed a background among the peasantry and yet there was something different about this child. He bore black lines extending from his neck and tracing unusual patterns along his face and head. Cautiously the dragon approached, each step measured, careful not to alarm the child. As he drew closer details became more apparent. The child had olive skin and black hairs were beginning to grow atop his head. His frame was frail, clearly malnourished and there were bruises on his cheeks and neck. Only when dragon was nearly standing over the child, did the child notice the shadow cast over him. The child looked up and saw golden eyes surrounded by scales of obsidian and yet, unusually, he felt no fear. He stood up and extended a hand outwards without a hint of hesitation. The dragon lowered his head meeting the child’s hand with his nose, exhaling warm air onto it while doing so, causing the child to giggle. The dragon could not help but laugh a deep, rumbling laugh himself, feeling his worries melt away in the presence of this little creature which bore him no malice and did not fear him the way his kin did.

“Child,” he spoke, “Why are you here?”

The child lowered his head and whimpered, “Mummy left me here. The other people said I was scary.”

“You as well, then?” the dragon replied sombrely.

“Did your mummy leave you as well?” the child inquired, concern evident on his face. The dragon laughed again.

“Something like that,” he replied, “Tell me, child. What is your name?”

“Romulus,” said the child, “But mummy calls me Rom. What’s your name?”

“I…do not have one,” replied the dragon, recalling that he was supposed to be bestowed one at the ceremony. The child appeared to inspect him inquisitively, crossing one arm and cupping his chin with his other hand.

“Your scales are pretty,” said Rom, then after a brief pause exclaimed, “Nero!”

The dragon felt power surge through his veins and it took all he had to not let out a bellowing roar.

“Nero…” he whispered under his breath, before responding to Rom, “I do like the sound of that.”

Rom beamed as Nero brought his forehead down to meet Rom’s.

“Rom,” began Nero, “Shall we look for a home?”

“Yeah!” replied Rom ecstatically. Nero laid down on his belly and extended a wing, allowing Rom to climb onto his back, before getting back to his feet. As he took a step he was startled by grumbling coming from above, but quickly realised it was the boy’s stomach. In response he felt his own do the same. They both laughed heartily.

“But first we eat,” said Nero, still chuckling. Thus the black dragon and his little companion set off to find their place in a world which had cast them aside.