Reign of Darkness and Starlight

It is said that when a dragon rider is born the sky goes dark, and the lands split open, revealing the blood of the fallen riders before them. It had been eons since anyone had witnessed a storm to this extent. Most of the people living within the great land had written it off as a story that the elders had once told their children and grandchildren. A once great thing turned to legend. And legend turned to myth until what remained of the great protectors lay deep within the dark soil of scorned fields.
It wasn't until the reign of the mad queen, Valara, did the land tremble once more. Every corner of the world trembled the day that the heir was born.
To the north the ground split open, releasing a heat so hot that for a mile radius the sand had turned to glass.
To the south a blizzard like no other waged an unbeatable war. The harsh wind froze everything in its path. Anything living, now claimed by death.
To the east, the ground shook so profusely that the coast fell, great cities now claimed by the sea.
And to the west. The sky grew dark, unleashing every storm known to man. Destroying anything in its path.
That day myths and legends were no longer forgotten. They were no longer buried with the dead. They were reborn screaming. And as those before them. They would go out the same way.
Screaming and covered in blood.