My Idea - AI

The Dragon's Legend

Once, long ago, when the kingdoms of men were young and the skies were still wild, there existed a dragon. A dragon so ancient that even the oldest of the elves could not recall the time before it, a beast of such power and majesty that its name was whispered only in fear, for it was said to possess the heart of the world itself.

The dragon's name was *Eirathor*, and it was said that when it flew, the very heavens trembled. Its scales shimmered like a thousand stars, and its eyes burned with the fire of forgotten ages. It was no mere creature of flesh and bone, but an elemental force, tied to the heartbeat of the earth, and every beat of its wings shook the foundations of the world.

Many legends were told about Eirathor—some painted it as a terror, a destroyer who burned villages and tore down mountains with a single roar. Others spoke of its wisdom, its knowledge of the old magic, and its kindness, claiming that the dragon once protected the land from an ancient evil. But all agreed on one thing: Eirathor was as old as the world itself, and it lived in the distant mountains of the north, hidden in the mists beyond the reach of man.

But as the centuries passed, the dragon's legend faded. With the rise of kings and the spread of civilization, the old stories were dismissed as myth. Scholars wrote about it in dusty tomes, adventurers sought it in vain, and children told tales of it in the dark around campfires. Few believed the dragon ever existed.

Then, on the eve of the kingdom's greatest hour of need, the dragon's legend returned.

It began with strange dreams. Dreams of fire, of wings sweeping through the sky like storm clouds, of the earth cracking and the heavens breaking open. Princess Elyra, the young heir to the throne of Vaeloria, was the first to dream them. At first, she thought it was nothing more than the result of too many nights spent studying, too much time spent worrying about the state of her kingdom.

Vaeloria was on the brink of war. To the east, the Dwarven Kingdom of Ironhold had begun to stir, their forces marching toward Vaeloria's borders under the banner of their new king, a brutal tyrant who sought to claim the lands that had once belonged to his ancestors. To the west, the elves, who had long held themselves apart from the affairs of men, had started to fortify their borders. The kingdom was surrounded on all sides by enemies, and Elyra, just twenty winters old, had no experience in war.

And then came the dreams.

In each one, she saw a great dragon, soaring above the clouds, its wings vast enough to blot out the sun. The beast's eyes, burning with an ancient fire, fixed on her, and a voice spoke in the silence of her mind: **"The dragon is watching. You must awaken it. It is the only hope left."**

At first, Elyra dismissed the dreams as nothing more than the weight of her responsibilities taking their toll. But they grew more vivid with each passing night. She could feel the fire in the dragon's heart, could hear the deep rumbling of its voice in her bones.

One night, as the dreams grew ever more insistent, she rose from her bed, trembling. She could no longer ignore the call.

The next morning, she summoned her council and told them of her visions. The old advisors—wise men, mages, and generals—looked at her with disbelief. "A dragon?" they scoffed. "You would have us believe that a creature of such myth still exists in this age?"

But there was one man who listened carefully, one old knight who had fought in the wars of old and who still carried the scars of battles long past. Sir Aldric, a weathered warrior with silver hair and a scar over one eye, approached her in the silence that followed.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing his head, "the legend of the dragon is not as distant as they believe. There are few who know the full story, but I have heard whispers in the old places. My father spoke of a time when Eirathor was summoned to battle the Darkness that came from beyond the stars. It is said that the dragon's heart beats in time with the earth itself, and when the land is in peril, it will rise again."

Elyra's eyes widened. "And you believe it?"

"I have seen strange things in my time, Your Majesty," Sir Aldric replied, his voice heavy with the weight of years. "But the dragon... If there is truth to what you have seen, then we have little time left."

Determined to find answers, Elyra set out with Sir Aldric and a small band of her most trusted knights. They traveled north, toward the Misty Peaks, the place where the dragon was said to have once slumbered, hidden from the world for millennia.

The journey was perilous. They crossed vast forests, climbed treacherous mountain passes, and battled fierce storms that seemed to grow fiercer the closer they got to the dragon's domain. The air grew heavy with magic, as though the land itself was watching them, waiting.

One night, as they camped beneath the stars, Elyra felt the ground beneath her feet tremble. The wind whispered her name, and she knew, deep in her soul, that Eirathor was near. Sir Aldric, too, could feel it—the ancient, primordial energy that pulsed through the earth. They had reached the heart of the mountains.

At the peak, shrouded in mist, they found the entrance to a hidden cave. Inside, the air was warm, and the walls glowed faintly with a golden light. And there, in the center of the cavern, lay the dragon—Eirathor.

The great beast was curled in a massive coil, its body like the very mountains themselves, covered in shimmering scales that gleamed like starlight. Its wings were folded, but when Elyra approached, she saw the dragon's eyes open slowly, glowing with an intensity that seemed to pierce through her very soul.

"You have come," the dragon's voice rumbled in her mind, as though the words were spoken in the very air around her. **"The world is in peril, princess. You are the key."**

Elyra knelt before the beast, her heart racing. "Please," she whispered. "The kingdoms are at war. The Darkness rises again. Will you help us?"

Eirathor's gaze softened, and the great dragon's voice filled the cave once more. **"I have slumbered long, but I am not forgotten. The heart of the world beats in me, and when it calls, I answer."**

With a mighty roar that shook the very mountains, the dragon unfurled its wings, sending waves of energy crashing through the cavern. The air shimmered with ancient magic, and Elyra felt a power coursing through her veins—power that had been dormant for centuries, waiting to be awakened.

The dragon's wings beat once, and the sky above the mountains seemed to crack open. Fire, light, and fury erupted into the heavens. **"Come, princess,"** Eirathor's voice echoed. **"Together, we will drive back the darkness."**

And so, on the eve of war, the dragon soared once more, its wings stretching across the sky, a living legend brought to life. The kingdoms of men watched in awe as the dragon and the princess stood side by side, ready to face the coming storm.

The world would never forget the Dragon's Legend—not because it had been forgotten, but because it had been reborn.

1276 word

Heyyy, do you like myths and legends? If yes, do you have a favourite?