In a far off galaxy in a time inconceivable by humans, there is a planet, one which supports the very thing humans seek so desperately to find: Life. But it is not life that they would define as being logical, seeing as how what lives on this planet is only comprehendible in the mind of a small child. No rational minded human would believe what lives on this planet unless he or she was to see it themselves. This world, called by many names by the inhabitants, is ruled by a species that utterly dominates it in every way conceivable. To humans, this species would be identified as Dragons. They of course, have another word for themselves, but to understand what they look like, the human term ‘dragon’ is necessary. A long reptilian neck, four strong legs, a pair of wings and horns, a tail, and of course, the ability to breathe fire. However, when most humans imagine dragons, they imagine beasts to be slain, or creatures to be worshiped, these dragons who rule a large part of this planet are just as intelligent, or stupid, as any human. Perhaps even more so. It is on this planet, in a land ruled by this draconic species that our story takes place, and the story starts with a large, red egg.
A loud cracking sound echoed throughout the lavishly decorated chamber. Upon a violet upholstered pillow, sat the object from which the sound came. Thunderous footsteps shook the floor as the inhabitants of the chamber rushed over to investigate the sound. The larger, clearly male inhabitant lowered his scaly head to the pillow’s level, and examined the egg which sat upon it with one blazing, golden eye. A slimmer, similar head did the same, and the female inhabitant smiled, then turned to regard her mate with her own incredibly sapphire eyes. They gazed at each other, each with an enormous grin upon their faces. It wasn’t every day an egg hatched. Indeed it was a rare occurrence, the mated pair had lamented when their own hadn’t hatched with all of the other eggs that had been laid one year prior. Instead of hatching, their egg had grown large for another twenty months, one year in their time. The male, who was as crimson as the sun when it’s first rays shine over the horizon, turned to the only exit from the chamber, and let out a loud, clearly excited roar. Seconds later, an emerald colored dragon rushed into the chamber, skidding to a stop on the polished floor, eyes searching for danger. He was garbed in traditional armor that befit a Captain of the Royal Guard. The blue plate-metal that covered the majority of his body shone brightly in the well-lit chamber. Placing one taloned claw before him, and lowering himself into the dragon’s equivalent of a bow, the captain spoke, “Yes my King, what is it you require of me?” The ruby colored male puffed out his chest slightly, and spoke down to the bowing guard. “Aronikus, have there been any reports of eggs hatching today?” The captain rose and met his king’s eyes when he spoke, a sign of respect between dragons, and answered saying, “None that I have heard my liege. Shall I send the messengers to check?” The ruby dragon nodded his head, and then turned his attention back towards his egg and his mate. “Yes, do so at once. The prince is finally on his way.” Aronikus blinked at the word ‘prince’ before his face burst into a grin. He let out a joyful honking sound, then saluted by placing his right paw against his chest saying, “It shall be done my lord!” before sprinting back out the entrance he came through, roaring and honking all the way down the tunnel that connected it to the rest of the Grand Cavern. “Tyran,” the ruby colored female said softly, “Was it wise to inform Aronikus of our hatchling being male? What if it’s female? You’ll have gone and upset a great many citizens by giving them a false report.” “Meridra, my love, I would have thought that by now you would trust my judgment on such things.” Tyran met her sapphire eyes once more, his own golden ones gleaming of their own accord, “I just…know it is a male. The great Draco has told me so.” Seeing the disbelief in his mate’s eyes, Tyran nuzzled his head against hers, and then entwined their necks together, so each could look each other in the eye as equals. “I know it is a male, but there is something…different with this egg. We shall see what soon enough...”
And so, all throughout the valley city of Drak’ir, the news spread. From every roost, to every watering hole, the news of the King and Queen’s prince reached the ear slits of every citizen. At first, there was doubt. No other reports of hatching eggs had been heard, and since the dawn of their civilization each and every egg laid had hatched on the same day. The citizens did not make it an annual celebration however, since each year the day changed. Many claimed it was a miracle of Draco; the spirit they believed embodied their very race and lived within each of them. Others demanded to see the proof. By the end of the day, the skeptics outnumbered the believers, and even the other cities, who had only just received the news hours before, began to doubt the king’s claim. The story of his unhatched egg had been a sad one, but such things had happened before. The queen had only laid one egg, and while nobody doubted the king’s ability to procreate, the superstitions surrounding single egg clutches were many. Some citizens speculated that the unusualness of this egg started then, because instead of growing colorless and dead on the Hatching Day, the egg grew a deeper shade of crimson, and continued to grow. It was because of this phenomenon that the king and queen had kept the egg. The day passed into night, and into the next morning, all but the most delusional citizens thought the rumor of the princely egg to be false. They had no idea how much everything they knew was about to change.
While the citizens speculated and rumors circled, the king and queen had sat by their egg, recounting legends of great heroes of their past to it. The egg itself had only a single crack in its shell, but each parent could hear the sounds of movement within, and not once did their hope that it would hatch fade. It was when Tyran had finished recounting the Legend of Garlokrond that the egg’s shell cracked once more. The pair leapt to their feet, each eagerly eyeing the egg. Identical holes had appeared on each side of it, and the pair each looked through the hole. Within, they both saw an eye, when they told the other what they saw, they became confused, worried even. No hatchling was big enough to take up so much space in its egg. Before either the king or queen could speculate further, the top of the shell popped off, and with an astonishingly loud crack, two hatchlings spilled out of the shell, and onto the violet pillow their egg had rested upon for over a year. Tyran and Meridra looked at each other, and then at their hatchlings. Each was a deep crimson color, and perfectly healthy. One however, was a male. Upon examination, Meridra discovered the other was female. What was truly concerning however was the fact that each hatchling’s eyes were the deepest, richest color gold either had ever seen. In their culture, dragon hatchlings that had golden eyes were grouped together, and eventually chosen to positions of power. The king or queen who possessed golden eyes was always the one who commanded their race, and kept peace on their world of Drac’on. The hatchlings who were not chosen to be king or queen were given other positions of power and importance by their leader. Since each of what the citizens called the ‘Bearers of the Golden Gaze’ were raised, trained, and taught together, the bonds of trust they formed were incredibly strong, and that strength was seen in their government. Not once had a golden eyed hatchling turned out rotten, and that was why parents who produced them were regarded as royalty, as long as their offspring was in a position of command. The thing about these gold-eyed dragons was that not once in their recorded history had they ever produced offspring who kept their golden eyes. It was through this natural occurrence that each family of dragons stayed out of power long enough to keep from being tempted by it. The male hatchling let out a loud honk, and the king and queen looked at each other, before smiling, and nuzzling the hungry hatchling. Tyran lifted the male into his right paw, which was big enough for the newborn to be comfortable in. Meridra did the same with her daughter, and together the two monarchs carried their twins down the tunnel from their chambers, through the Grand Hall, and out the Golden Scale Gates. A sizeable crowd had gathered before the gates, since the king had ordered the news heralded moments after the twins had hatched. Tyran scanned the crowd, and immediately knew who was missing. He opened his jaws and let out an enormous roar that shook the valley-city to its core. Within five minutes, the rest of the populace had arrived.
Together, King Tyran, and Queen Meridra held out their paws, and displayed the two newborns to the crowd. Gasps of awe were heard throughout the crowd, looks of disbelief were on the face of every citizen, and many had their mighty bone-crushing jaws hanging open in wonder at what they saw before them. Only once had their ever been a pair of dragons that hatched from the same egg. Each of the members of the gathered crowd recalled that tale, and as if he could read their minds, King Tyran began to recite it, “In the first days of Drac’on, when elves, dwarves, and trolls kept dragons as pets and slaves, there was an egg colored the finest gold any of the lesser races had ever seen. We dragons immediately saw it for what it was: a miracle. Our scales come in many colors, ruby, sapphire, obsidian, emerald, diamond, bronze, viridian, every color imaginable, except gold. Indeed it was for our scales that the other races captured us, and it was our scales they so sought. When this golden egg was laid, by a dragon whose color shall forever remain a mystery, the greedy dwarves who held it saw it as holy. However, when the Hatching Day of that year came, the golden egg did not hatch, but only continued to grow. For ten years the egg grew, and for ten years the dwarves waited. Our race is lucky it was the dwarves who held it, for elves would have broken it, and trolls would have eaten it. For all the greed they possess, the dwarves can always appreciate beauty, and so they did with the Golden Egg for a whole decade. On the tenth Hatching Day since the egg was laid, a resounding crack is said to have echoed through the dwarve's diamond halls. With a rush of excitement, they gathered round the Golden Egg, and soon, it hatched. From that egg came our salvation, the pair of dragons who won us our freedom. That day, they toppled the dwarves, fully grown as they were, and freed our brethren. From the dwarven city of Anastheim, they flew to the elven city of Misa’thral, and once more freed our kin. Finally, only the trollish capital of Krag’marok remained, but trolls are not as easily crushed as dwarves and elves, and the inexperienced pair of golden wyrms fell beneath the brutish trolls. However, with their deaths our race grew furious, so furious that when we roared, powerful flames leapt from our maws! We burnt Krag’marok to ashes, and freed our kin. Where once Krag’marok stood is now holy territory to us, where once dwarves and elves were enemies, we have found in them respectable allies. From that day on, we have revered the golden eyed hatchlings as sacred, and so have deemed them worthy to lead. Not once have they failed our race. Not once since that ancient time have two hatchlings come from the same egg. Until now.” The king paused, giving his audience time to pray for the departed souls of the Golden Twins. “My friends,” he began again, “We are witnessing history. Let the historians note that from the single egg of myself and Queen Meridra came a pair of golden eyed hatchlings. Their purpose for existing may be to re-affirm the old legends as truth, or there may yet be darker times on the horizon. The trolls, who brutalized us more than the other races ever dreamed of doing, may have returned. I shall consult with the elvish and dwarven kings at once. New threats may be rising, with my own offspring heralding their coming. Be on alert my kin, an attack may be on its’ way as we speak.” Murmuring throughout the crowd swelled as the king and queen turned and headed back to their chambers to feed their new hatchlings.
King Tyran met with the elvish king Lorian, and the dwarven king Tholin through the use of two-way magical mirrors each king had. The next day, it was decided then that an alliance of their races would be formed. That if one race should come under attack from a new foe, the other two would rush to aid them. Thankfully, the citizens of each of the races thought this wise. Dwarven armor was impregnable, elvish steel sharper than anything the trolls had ever forged, and dragons were flying killing machines with a number of deadly tools at their disposal. The alliance was formed, and held for years, but over those long years not once did a new threat emerge. Old ones did however, the return of the trolls was handled well by the new alliance though, and the invaders were easily repelled back to their lands. Despite this loss, the Elves were continuously attacked by trolls, as were the dwarves, but no mortal race could reach the dragons, for all of their cities were mountains, all except Drak’ir, which was a valley that teemed with them. To keep their alliance strong, the dragons often sent their young to battle alongside the elves and dwarves, and bonds of friendship grew stronger between those three races. Eventually, the common language once only used by the kings of their races became the primary language for them all, though they kept their original languages as a secondary. An age of peace and prosperity ruled this part of their world, and it was in this new language that the three races agreed on a name for their world: Arconia.