The Dragons of Morundael

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. It was Talosi who took first flight over the planes of Morundael. Now, Dragons alone soar into the wild blue.

The distinctive static hum that usually followed these thoughts rung through Gaia’s ears as she plunged into the deep, green-blue waters of Laikin, riding on the back of her trusted drake, Dwina. The familiar icy bite of the Laikin filled her veins and overrode her senses with a rush of warmth. Only a handful of Talosi had dared enter the Laikin, and fewer still had dared to venture into the unknown, mystical waters riding the mighty drakes.

Drakes and Talosi had lived harmoniously for many years in Morundael, the purple stony banks that flanked the great Laikin waters. Laikin had been the source of all life, peace, and prosperity for the last thousand chronia when it had first mysteriously appeared in the valley, seemingly overnight and transformed the once arid lands of Frijos into the thriving realm of Morundael it now was. It had transformed the land that was once ruled by Dragons. Now all that remained of the Dragons was their tales.

The powerful call of the Laikin had summoned the Talosi and drakes to its shore; none remembering who came first. They simply learned to co-exist. They fell into life with each other as naturally as the mouth of the Laikin flowed up the walls of the great Mount Emyrs. The mysterious waters of the Laikin never fell. They rose. There were no waterfalls in Morundael. Only water-rises.

At first glance, there were no striking or even fleeting similarities between drakes and Talosi. Where Talosi had soft, dusky skin, drakes were covered in scales. Where Talosi were identifiable by the long, flaxen hair on their heads, drakes were distinguishable by the row of spikes on their skulls. A full-grown adult Talosi reached halfway up a crabapple tree, whereas some full-grown adult drakes could reach halfway up the great Mount Emyrs. Perhaps the most striking difference was how the Talosi were as skilled on land with their limbs as drakes were in the water and sky with their wings.

Among all these differences, Talosi and drakes had one striking similarity. The color of their eyes. Blue eyes brushed with green specks as if they were droplets of the Laikin herself. Like a birthmark of all who were borne by Morundael and Laikin, every drake and Talosi had the mesmerizing blue-green eyes that set them apart as a race unto themselves. As if they were small parts of a whole. Like they belonged to one soul.

Not all Talosi and drakes got along. Drakes were not familiars and Talosi were not masters. But once in a silver moon, a drake and Talosi bonded. These bonds were breakable only by the end of life itself.

Even as a young Talosi, Gaia’s gifts were too powerful to miss. She was special and it had more to do with the distinct discoloration of her eyes - one blue as the wild sky and the other green as the dark forest. Her mother worried that she was too different, too clever, too extraordinary for her own good.

Gaia was only three chronia when she slipped her mother’s notice one morning and paddled into the deep waters of the Laikin. The shrill cry of an elder Talosi had drawn everyone’s attention to the child who had been pulled into the venerated Laikin waters. They didn’t dare go in. Not even the few daredevils who occasionally took on the waters. If the Laikin wanted her, she would have her. Gaia’s mother came rushing forth and frantically looked for a way to get to her precious babe.

Drakes circled the skies above the Laikin while the Talosi circled the banks around it. None stepped forth. They all stood with bated breaths, to see what was to become of the wunderkind. Only the piercing wails of her mother broke through the pregnant silence in the valley. But Gaia only smiled and looked on.

That’s when it happened.

At first, a soft ripple shimmered across the still surface of the Laikin. Moments later, a tremor was felt along the banks of the water and inside the walls of Emyrs. Then a sound echoed through the silence. A sound so primordial, it was as if the divine itself had turned its eye upon the lands. A sound so unknown yet familiar, it still haunted the hearts of all Laikinkind. A sound that hadn’t been heard in thousands of chronia. The sound of a Dragon.

As the first beats of the sound settled into the valley, a young drakeling dove headfirst into the lake and grabbed up little Gaia in her talons. It was a rare occurrence for a drakeling to intervene directly and unprovoked to aid a Talosi. But it didn’t strike fear in the hearts of the watching Talosi. They knew no harm would come to the babe at the hands of a drake. They were not Dragons.

They might look alike but Talosi knew Dragons and drakes couldn’t be more different. Where drakes could co-exist, the dragons had brought destruction. Dragons were intelligent, sentient beings with the gift of speech, magic, and fire. They might not have existed for thousands of chronia, but their terror had spread far, wide, and deep into the hearts of those they left behind.

The drakeling that had grabbed up Gaia was not full-grown yet and barely made it ashore with the child unharmed. As it perched upon the land, the surrounding Talosi along with Gaia’s mother rushed forth to retrieve the child.

As the drakeling who had gingerly cocooned the babe within her wings gazed upon the nearing crowd, a collective gasp was sounded by the Talosi. The drakeling had the same distinct two-toned eyes as Gaia. It was so rare an occurrence, that it was practically mythical. She had bonded with the child. Gaia and Dwina were soul-Laikin. Separated only at the end of life.

It had been twenty chronia since. Gaia and Dwina had bonded with the Laikin as much as they had connected with one another on that fateful day. The roar of the Dragon from that day was all but forgotten like a bad dream in the minds of Talosi. Only the drakes had seemed more wary than usual for a time. Eventually, they too seemed to have moved past that memory.

But Gaia had not forgotten.

She couldn’t if she wanted to. For when the land of Morundael was being caressed by the sounds of the Dragon that fateful day, the waters of Laikin had whispered to her the words behind the roar. At first, she was too young to understand their true meaning. Every time she dove into the Laikin with Dwina, she heard the words. As she grew older, they became clearer and their intent more defined.

It was always the same, “There weren’t always dragons in the valley.” But today, she heard more.

Lately, the Laikin had started whispering, “It was Talosi who took first flight over the planes of Morundael. Now, Dragons alone soar into the wild blue.” She knew that the time had finally come. The Talosi had taken what was never truly theirs.

Now the Dragons were back.

And as the Laikin had just revealed to her, Gaia was going to help them conquer the valley again.