Darkening Skies

Prologue

     Sinister shadows stretched over the valley enclosed by mountains, casting an early dusk on the citizens of the Kingdom of Eridell. Each human in the isolated region shared a unique telepathic bond with their own domesticated dragon. The peasants, fearful of what lies in the dark beyond their mountains, fed their Cornells with grain they had sown together. Those few with status considered noble carried their small Wylings to their square feathered beds before they retreated to their own, and aggressive Morians snored away by the knights' barracks, readying to prepare for an attack all were convinced would never come. This connection each held was decided by the High Priest, a revered masked figure who could speak to Erilyth, the ancient dragon overlord Eridell worshipped.

     As the shadows overtook the valley, the young king and queen of Eridell held their beautiful heirs in their arms, the small twins swaddled in the softest cloth available. They stood in the cold dusk at the front of the Citadel, the one institution who would dare make the beloved royals wait. The young queen smiled down at their twins as a shiver ran through her slight body; she simply attributed it to the cold, not to the mystical stone building towering in front of her. Her stoic husband knew better, and a slight frown, concealed by his beard, creeped onto his face as he glanced down at the son squirming in his arms. A mandatory smile replaced this as the heavy wooden doors creaked open just enough for enterance.

     An empty stone anteroom, somehow colder than the night outside, was filled with the echos of infant squaling. The High Priest, adorned in robes blue as night and a mask of gold modeled from Erilyth, silently greeted the rulers at the end of a long hallway. He guided them to a circular room, the lithe queen letting out a gasp at the stteply increased temperature. The lighting was dim, eminating from a large fireplace with a peculiar metal circle sitting just above the licks of the flames. The king and queen sat on the hard stone seats, entranced by the mezmorizing fire. Even the children quieted down, as if they knew the magic they had entered into. The fire flickered orange and green, growing from blue coals at its base. The High Priest presented a single silver egg with a bow, his wrinkled hands shaking from its weight.

     The royals looked at each other questioningly, then back to the High Priest. "Where is the other?" the king questioned, his voice breaking the heavy silence that surrounded them all.

     The High Priest shook his head so slightly the queen nearly missed it. She gave her husband a worried look, and the king suppressed his fear.

     "Which is it for?" He asked the figure before him. The egg was motioned towards the daughter now sleeping in her mother's arms. The queen gripped the child ever so tighter. Never in recorded history has a child not been assigned a dragon, but the weary parents did not want to think of the implications involved.

     "And... our son?" was a question quietly posed by the nervous queen. The golden mask remained still in response.

     Unsure what else to do in this peculiar situation, the king commanded, "Hatch it."

     As commanded, the High Priest laid the egg on the metal circle above the fire, a heavy shadow cutting through the menacing glow of the fire. The silver egg began to glow, sitting still for a few tense moments before shaking ever so silently. The queen stared down at the child in her husband's arms, tears welling in her eyes. An anomaly in multiple ways, but no dragon? This problem would have to be dealt with in undesirable ways.

     The king watched intently as the egg began shaking more and more until a small crack formed in the egg. A small feathered head broke through the egg with a small screech the same moment a tear fell from the queen's eye.