The History of Krynn: Vol I

by Dragon Lance

  Only when the fire had nearly burned itself out, when the hole in the dark cloud mass began to close, did the words of the Queen become known to her children.

  “Welcome, mighty sons... know that your actions have been pleasing to me. Your courage, your cruel and relentless violence shall be well rewarded.”

  “Greetings, Mother Queen,” murmured Furyion, in cadence with the other wyrms. He felt a rush of warmth and affection for the great, chaotic goddess who had given birth to his brothers and himself.

  “Our eggs, the precious orbs that each of you has given me, are nurtured in the heart of the Abyss. They thrive and prosper... and someday, they will yield handsome offspring. Then shall our children populate the entire face of Krynn.”

  Furyion shivered in delight at this word of the spawning, and bowed his crimson head in abject worship. “We are unworthy of your grace, Mother Queen,” he rasped, spewing steam and fire from his nostrils. “The red dragons shall rule the world in your name!”

  “Aye, my boldest, my mightiest son. The wyrms of blue and black, of green and white, shall aid and serve them – but it is my desire that the dragons of fire be the masters of my world!”

  Crowing, Furyion raised his face to the cloudy sky, bellowing a great fireball of searing, sizzling heat.

  “But know, too, my children, that there is still danger in Krynn.” The cautionary words came as the other four serpents regarded the mighty red, their expressions carefully masked to conceal the emotions of envy and displeasure that lurked in their wicked thoughts.

  “But mistress —” It was Arkan, the mighty serpent with scales of turquoise blue, who spoke up next. “I myself have slain the silver dragon. See, I bear a necklace of scales, ripped from that wretched wyrm’s rotten corpse.”

  “Aye, my son.”

  “And I!” Green Korril was not to be outdone. “The wyrm of brass perished in the crush of my bite and the rending talons of my claws. I, too, wear a necklace of hated scales, proof that our great enemy has been slain.”

  “Hear of my own trophy, Mother!” cried Corrozus, shaking his supple neck and setting the ring of copper-colored scales jangling. “I, too, have slain a wyrm of Paladine.”

  Next it was Akis who boasted, brandishing his own circlet of bronze scales.

  “I see your triumphs, my sons – and my pride showers you like the warmth of fire from the sky.”

  Four dragons bowed, accepting the praise. Only Furyion looked on, envy and rage vying for mastery of his seething emotions.

  “But still there is danger, and it is for this reason that I have gathered you.”

  “We know that Aurora, the gold, still lives,” Arkan assured the Queen of Darkness. “But surely she cannot long evade us.”

  “No, but there is further danger, my sons. The dragons of Paladine have worked to deceive us – even as they were slain, one by one, by my loyal sons.”

  “How?” demanded Furyion, secretly encouraged by the suggestion that his brothers’ efforts might have resulted in a clumsy failure.

  “As her sisters were slain, Aurora herself remained aloof – and all the time she was coiled around the future of her race.”

  “Mean you that Paladine’s dragons, too, have eggs?” Corrozus hissed. The other serpents fell silent, chilled by his suggestion.

  “Aye, my black one. They have eggs, and have commissioned Aurora with the task of guarding them.”

  “Are the spawn in the far plane of Paladine?” Furyion asked the question, but dreaded to hear the answer. They were so close to ultimate victory, making themselves and their spawn the unchallenged masters of the world. Yet if the Platinum Father was guarding the eggs, much as Takhisis had secured the spawn of evil dragonkind in the Abyss, their plans could yet be thwarted.

  “Here they have made their mistake,” stated the Queen. “They have allowed the eggs to remain upon Krynn.”

  “Where we can reach and destroy them!” Furyion pledged, determined that he would gain that necklace of golden scales.

  “Yes, my sons. You must slay Aurora, and eradicate the clutch of metal eggs. Only then will our future be safe, freed from the threat of Paladine’s dragons.”

  “The gold is a daydreamer – she will be easy prey!” boasted Corrozus. “It shall be my pleasure to rot the gilded scales from her flanks with the spittle of my breath!”

  “We fly at once, my Queen!” promised Furyion, with a flexing of his broad, sail-sized wings. The red was annoyed that his black cousin had been quicker with the boastful promise.

  “But tell us,” inquired Akis. “Where may the eggs of the metal dragons be found?”

  “You must search, my sons. They are concealed in the western mountains, and I bid you, all five of my mighty children, fly there, find the clutch, and destroy it – utterly and completely. Succeed, and the dragons of metal shall be forever banished from the world!”

  Five proud bellows challenged the sky as the wyrms of Takhisis raised their heads. Jaws spread wide, they spewed deadly breath – fire and lightning, acid and frost and deadly gas, all churning together, rising in a pillar of evil might.

  In the sudden silence that descended, Furyion trembled, on the brink of his lofty ledge. The western mountains were far away, across the broad plain that was central Ansalon. Yet he knew that he could cross that distance in a matter of a few days. Once above the distant range, he could use magic, or perhaps merely his keen eyesight, to discover Aurora and the clutch of eggs.

  Arkan and Akis flung themselves into the air, crying in martial fury. Furyion tensed, then halted as the voice of his mistress came into his mind.

  “Wait, my crimson son... I would have words with you, alone.”

  Tingling, Furyion paused, watching as Corrozus and Korril took wing. He waited, taut with anticipation, as the black and green wyrms trailed their brothers along the swooping gorges leading to the west.

  “I desire, Furyion, that you shall win the greatest triumph in this battle. All have heard me decree that the red dragons shall be lords of the world – but you need this trophy, this proof, to hold above your brothers, to show them the rightness of my choice!”

  “Aye, Queen Mother.” Furyion was grimly certain of this same fact – he had already determined that he would do whatever was necessary to slay Aurora himself. “I shall wear the scales of the golden wyrm around my neck, a trophy that will herald my greatness through the ages! My talons, my fangs shall rend her to pieces!”

  “Brave words, and true. But heed: Do not make waste of your magic, my son. I have granted you the mightiest of spells, the most potent enchantments within my power. Use them!”

  Already the red dragon had pictured the brute violence he would deliver against golden Aurora, but here again he heard the Queen’s advice. He would paralyze her with magic, then squeeze the life from the idle serpent of gold before she knew that she was attacked.

  With a bellow of challenge and triumph, Furyion spread scarlet wings to catch the upward drafts, leaping into the air and winging westward toward the destiny that would decide the future of the world.

  *

  There were no seasons, then – nothing like the passing of months or years. In places the world was cold, and cold it remained; in other realms, warmth was the ruling condition, and such climes held sway with the passing of hundreds, of thousands of sunrises.

  Yet still time passed, and one being sensed this more keenly than any other. Like a band of gold she encircled the finger of a spiked mountain peak, following her master’s command, waiting with immortal patience through the passing of countless days for the arrival of her sisters.

  Still she waited, as time and events took shape upon the world. And at last she knew:

  The others would never return.

  *

  Aurora coiled near the summit of her lofty peak, holding her golden head upraised, keen eyes searching the eastern horizon as they had searched it for days uncounted. The sky was cloudless, the sun high above, yet no glimmer of brightness
speckled along that distant horizon.

  The knowledge that she was alone grew in the mighty gold dragon slowly, like a gradual awakening from a deep and profound slumber. When it took solid root, she knew the truth: her sisters were slain, victims of the Dark Queen’s treachery.

  A lesser being might have given way to despair, even fear; to Aurora this was simply a problem that required her full concentration. Thoughts of many things drifted through her ancient, timeless mind as she turned toward this new, discomforting reality.

  For a time her thoughts wandered, as they had done during more peaceful times. In truth, what did it mean to be really, truly alone? Aurora had always been a solitary creature, disdaining the petty concerns of Paladine’s other serpents. Brass, copper, and bronze had been full of petty jealousies, even greed, and the impatient silver had been too shortsighted and active for more than a few days’ pensive conversation.

  Solitary life suited Aurora, for it gave her plenty of time to think, which was her favorite pastime by far. She was content to pass the days with considerations of poetry and history and all forms of knowledge marching in steady progression through her awareness. And of course, there was also the matter of her magic – she delighted in weaving enchantments, and Paladine had bestowed upon her a remarkable gift for arcane power. Already Aurora had mastered many spells, but with sorcery, as with life itself, one could never have too much time to study, to meditate, and to think.

  For that matter was she, even now, really alone? In truth, no, for there were the eggs in the great cavern below, secured in the vault that arched over a vast, underground sea. The secret trove lay in the heart of this mountain ridge, beneath a mile of solid rock. It had only one clear point of access – the Valley of Paladine. That vale lay in clear view of the gold dragon’s current vantage, where she had remained for an uncountable number of days.

  That thought reminded her that she hadn’t eaten in some time. She looked for some sign of prey in the game-rich valleys below. Something moved, far down the slope of the mighty peak, and Aurora became more keenly aware of her hunger. Unwilling to waste time in a long pursuit, she decided to use magic in the aid of her hunt. The golden body shifted under the influence of a polymorph spell, shrinking, the metallic scales of her breast merging into the plumage of a proud eagle. Leathery wings of shining membrane became the feathered limbs of a mighty soaring bird. Keen-eyed and shrewd, the gliding predator moved away from the mountain, circling easily, gradually spiraling lower.

  The source of movement was clear to Aurora, now – a herd of elk grazed through a meadow of tall grass. The proud bull stood alert while his does nibbled at lush clover. Several of the great, shaggy deer gathered around a small spring, heads lowered to drink.

  Diving lower now, the eagle that was Aurora veered to the side, ensuring that the bull did not take alarm. When the tops of the trees skimmed just below the bird’s feathered belly, she stroked her wings, speedily approaching the meadow where the herd sought sustenance.

  Breaking from the cover of the trees, Aurora shifted into her true shape. Golden wings abruptly cast half the clearing in menacing shadow, and drew a bugling bellow of alarm from the great bull. Immediately the elk stampeded, scattering in every direction toward the shelter of the surrounding woods. But the gold dragon had already selected her victim, a doe with the gray muzzle and stiff, clumsy gait of an elder. The elk limped after the younger members of the herd, braying in shrill panic as the massive, winged shadow eclipsed her flight.

  Aurora dropped like a pouncing cat, bearing the elk to earth and breaking the muscular neck with a single, crushing bite. By the time the rest of the herd had scattered, she crouched over the fresh meat, the odor of blood making her belly rumble. The clearing was pleasant, with the fragrance of many blossoms soothing to the gold dragon’s nostrils. The pastoral surroundings of lush pines and the placid waters of the spring made a splendid framework for a meal.

  But there were the eggs, Aurora’s sole responsibility. She could not see the Valley of Paladine from here, so she knew that she could not linger in the pleasant low-land. Seizing the carcass in her jaws, she gave a powerful downstroke of leathery wings, hurling herself into the air. The golden serpent flew at a gentle incline, circling toward high altitude, gradually working her way back toward the lofty summit.

  The sun had neared the western horizon by the time she reached the slopes around her peak. The body of the elk dangling from her jaws, Aurora warily looked over the mountain, and the surrounding skies, before coming to rest on the exalted height. Crouching over the still-warm carcass, the gold dragon was about to tear into the meal when she hesitated. Blinking, then staring intently, she detected a trace of movement in the sky, a winged creature approaching from the north.

  The flyer was clearly larger than any bird, yet the brownish, indistinct coloring was too dull for a dragon. Propping the fresh meat firmly between two boulders, the golden serpent lifted her head, squinting into the shadows between the mountains, trying to discern the nature of the approaching creature.

  Soon Aurora recognized the powerful body and the broad, feathered wings of a griffon. Because the hawk-faced predators generally avoided dragons, she was surprised to see this one coursing steadily closer to her high peak. She waited with the patience of the near-immortal, watching the griffon strain for altitude, laboring toward the sanctified rocks of the lofty summit. Now she could see the black and white pattern of the griffon’s wing feathers, the hooked hawk-beak of the proud face. The griffon’s body was like that of a great cat, powerful paws and muscular legs coming to rest on an outcrop of rock a short distance below the gold dragon’s perch.

  “Greetings, Honored ancient,” declared the griffon politely. The creature spoke in its own language, but Aurora was familiar with the tongue – as, indeed, she understood the speech of every intelligent being across the breadth of Krynn.

  “Welcome, Feathered Hunter,” the gold dragon replied with formal correctness. She was silent then, patiently waiting to learn the griffon’s business.

  “The skies are empty, for many miles across the plains,” the sleek predator noted vaguely. When Aurora made merely a noncommittal rumble in reply, the hawk-faced creature continued. “I grieve for the loss of your bold sisters.”

  “You speak with a certainty that goes beyond my own knowledge,” admitted the gold dragon – though she had guessed at this truth.

  “One by one, the dragons of metal have been savaged by the Queen’s wyrms,” related the griffon, with a sad shake of the hawklike head. “Now, my cousins tell me that the serpents of Takhisis have taken wing from the Khalkist. They seek the last of their enemies.”

  Aurora’s filmy eyelids half-lowered as she considered this information. The words of the griffon clearly placed a certain urgency on her situation, compelling action. The dragons of the Dark Queen would no doubt move swiftly – she knew that they had little use for a proper interval of meditation and philosophical discussion. And the gold dragon also knew that her enemy’s actions must be faced with firm choices and decisive responses of her own. Perhaps the time for thinking was past, at least for now.

  With a wrenching twist, Aurora pulled a rear haunch from the elk. She reared upward with the limb in one forepaw, and gestured to the remainder of the meaty carcass.

  “You are welcome to food... and I thank you for your news,” she informed the hawk-faced flyer.

  The feathered cat bowed low, wings extended to honor the gilded serpent. “I thank you for your generosity, ancient One. My cubs have been hungry for some days, now.”

  “Let them eat well.” With a glint of sunlight on golden scales, Aurora took to the air, leaving the pleased griffon to tear the carcass into portable pieces. The dragon circled her lofty peak, studying the skies to east and north, reassuring herself that the wyrms of Takhisis were not yet on her doorstep. In mid-flight, she devoured the haunch of fresh meat, then tucked her broad wings and dove toward the Valley of Paladine.

  She s
teered past sheer walls that plunged thousands of feet into the narrow, shadowed vale – a place inaccessible to landbound creatures, fully encircled by those lofty precipices. At the valley floor, Aurora settled to the ground, tucking her wings to enter the black, jagged opening that gaped in the mountain wall.

  The tunnel within extended for a very long distance, but shortly past the entrance it widened dramatically. Again Aurora took to the air, spreading her wings to glide toward the great cavern in the depths of the mountain range.

  Arrival always came as a shock – one second she veered through the winding cave, and the next she was in the great chamber. Below her lapped the placid waters of the vast, underground lake. Like an enclosed piece of sky, the vast ceiling lofted far overhead, encircling a body of water so broad that, at some distant point in the future, it would count no less than five teeming cities along its shores. Now it was home only to millions of bats, and to a very precious nest.

  The gold dragon’s flight was direct and purposeful. She flew toward a lofty pillar that rose from the center of the lake to merge with the high, arched ceiling. Aurora banked, circling the shaft, until she neared a wide ledge in the precipitous surface.

  Settling to that platform, Aurora tucked her wings and passed through a shadowy niche barely wide enough for her sinuous form. Within, the moist air of the grotto soothed her nostrils; immediately she felt the sense of benign well-being that was the hallmark of this sacred cavern.

  In the center of the circular chamber she saw the nest – a huge, bowl-shaped basket made from an array of massive gemstones hewn together by combined blasts of fire and frost, gold and silver dragon breath. The eggs within glowed subtly, illumination reflecting in myriad facets from ruby and emerald, and from a hundred tiny waterfalls on the grotto walls, where sparkling water trickled down the slick, reflective rock.