Kayden the Dragonair
Your Local Friendly Dragon
- 4
- Posts
- 19
- Years
- Age 32
- Kansas City, Missouri
- Seen Apr 25, 2015
When I posted this fic at PE2K, it was a hit, so I'd thought I'd post it here, too.
Prolouge: The Awakening
The mists of memory gather, the more with each passing year. Yet one day remains clear in my mind as this morning's sunrise, although it happened those many centuries ago
It was a day darkened by mists of it's own, and by smoke thick and wrathful. While the fate of all pokemon hang in the balance, no mortal creature suspected. For the mists of that day obscured everything but the fear, and the pain, and the slightest hint of hope...
As still as a mountain for years beyond our mortal count, they grayish-brown boulder just suddenly stirred a bit.
It was not the fast-flowing water of the River Tyto, slapping the base of the rocks, that caused the alteration. Nor it was the Furret whose favorite hobby was sliding down the gap between two particular stones, and into the muddy banks of the pure blue waters. Neither was it the family of Treecko who had adapted to live by side of the river and it?s partner boulders.
No. The stirring came from a completely different source. One that has never been seen by the inhabitants of this earth. The source of the movement came from deep within the stone itself.
As mist gathered the banks of the river, a scraping sound rendered the air. A moment later, the boulder, once again, shifted ever so slightly. Near the atop the stone, a small crack appeared. Then another crack, then another. All at once a jagged chip fractured, leaving a hole that gleamed with a strange, luminous light. Slowly, something pushed it?s way out of the hole. It shined with great light, dignity, and apparent power, even as it scraped the rock?s rough surface. It was a claw.
Far North, in the desolate rough mountains of the land known by Igor, a trail of smoke rose upward, like a Seviper. Nothing else moved in this land. Not even the tiny Caterpie or Weedle. The land had been scorched-so powerful it had obliterated the trees, stones, and almost every creature in sight. This land had been the lair of a dragon. Years ago, at the golden age of his reign, this creature had obliterated forests, and swallowed villages whole. Charizard was this dragon that had reigned here so long ago, had descended from a long line of ruler dragons, therefore, he had to follow the family?s customs. Until finally, a hundred years ago, a dark wizard, Lugihart, managed to drive the Charizard back to it?s lair. He had remained in his scored cave, ever since...
Charizard was still sleeping peacefully in it's cave after a decade of wating for the rages to cease.
Then, sensing his destiny nearby, he slowly opened his bloodshot eyes. The flame on his tail lit itself, after a hundred years of his deep sleep which had been thought to had been enternal.
Finally. My time has come. Nyra can't hold up with that egg forever.
The dragon rose to his feet, lifted his wings and began to take off, when a strange, pale-faced, two-legged figure walked towards him and his web-covered stone lair, carrying a curved blade that gleamed and reflected ominously. Then, with a start, Charizard realized the blade was lifting to strike.
Prolouge: The Awakening
The mists of memory gather, the more with each passing year. Yet one day remains clear in my mind as this morning's sunrise, although it happened those many centuries ago
It was a day darkened by mists of it's own, and by smoke thick and wrathful. While the fate of all pokemon hang in the balance, no mortal creature suspected. For the mists of that day obscured everything but the fear, and the pain, and the slightest hint of hope...
As still as a mountain for years beyond our mortal count, they grayish-brown boulder just suddenly stirred a bit.
It was not the fast-flowing water of the River Tyto, slapping the base of the rocks, that caused the alteration. Nor it was the Furret whose favorite hobby was sliding down the gap between two particular stones, and into the muddy banks of the pure blue waters. Neither was it the family of Treecko who had adapted to live by side of the river and it?s partner boulders.
No. The stirring came from a completely different source. One that has never been seen by the inhabitants of this earth. The source of the movement came from deep within the stone itself.
As mist gathered the banks of the river, a scraping sound rendered the air. A moment later, the boulder, once again, shifted ever so slightly. Near the atop the stone, a small crack appeared. Then another crack, then another. All at once a jagged chip fractured, leaving a hole that gleamed with a strange, luminous light. Slowly, something pushed it?s way out of the hole. It shined with great light, dignity, and apparent power, even as it scraped the rock?s rough surface. It was a claw.
Far North, in the desolate rough mountains of the land known by Igor, a trail of smoke rose upward, like a Seviper. Nothing else moved in this land. Not even the tiny Caterpie or Weedle. The land had been scorched-so powerful it had obliterated the trees, stones, and almost every creature in sight. This land had been the lair of a dragon. Years ago, at the golden age of his reign, this creature had obliterated forests, and swallowed villages whole. Charizard was this dragon that had reigned here so long ago, had descended from a long line of ruler dragons, therefore, he had to follow the family?s customs. Until finally, a hundred years ago, a dark wizard, Lugihart, managed to drive the Charizard back to it?s lair. He had remained in his scored cave, ever since...
Charizard was still sleeping peacefully in it's cave after a decade of wating for the rages to cease.
Then, sensing his destiny nearby, he slowly opened his bloodshot eyes. The flame on his tail lit itself, after a hundred years of his deep sleep which had been thought to had been enternal.
Finally. My time has come. Nyra can't hold up with that egg forever.
The dragon rose to his feet, lifted his wings and began to take off, when a strange, pale-faced, two-legged figure walked towards him and his web-covered stone lair, carrying a curved blade that gleamed and reflected ominously. Then, with a start, Charizard realized the blade was lifting to strike.