Jean Rabe - Dragons of a New Age

Krynn needs new champions, Palin thought. If this is indeed the Age of Mortals, then mortals must reclaim the land. Perhaps Goldmoon will help us find them.

“They remind me of cattle.” Malys’s voice was tinged with scorn.

“Humans?” Khellendros posed.

The majestic Red nodded her head. “And the elves, dwarves, gnomes. All of them. Even the kender. Especially the cheerful, pitiful kender. The contemptible kender with their puny weapons, impudent grins, and their endless, annoying banter. I took this land from them, and they could do nothing to stop me.”

Malys was stretched out on her belly in her plateau lair south of Flotsam, letting the late afternoon sun bake her scales. She closed her eyes and softly, contentedly growled.

She loved the heat. Khellendros sat in front of her.

“Some aspire to greatness,” he began. “Some humans, anyway.”

“You are soft to think so,” she hissed.

“I am wise to know so,” Khellendros rebuked. “Humans and their allies have been responsible for chasing dragons from the face of Krynn before. They should not be taken lightly.”

Malys raised a scaly brow, opened one eye, and silently urged him to continue.

“This world has seen three dragon wars, four if the last could be called a war,” the Blue explained. “Each was glorious— and devastating— to our kind. In the first war, nearly four thousand years past, the elves tried to drive us from what they believed were their lands. They were our lands, and we would have won, as the elves did not have the numbers to stand up to us. But the gods of magic aided the elves, giving them a handful of enchanted stones. The stones captured the dragons’ spirits and drew their strength inside, then the elves buried the stones deep in the tallest mountains. The dragons were weakened and exiled from the world.”

“But they returned,” Malys purred.

“The second war was not quite a thousand years later. The stones had been planted in the Khalkist Mountains, where a clan of dwarves was mining. Dwarves do not trust magic. So when their new tunnel broke into the chamber where the stones were held and they sensed the powerful magic, they cast the stones out onto the surface. They thought they were keeping themselves safe, protecting their mine.”

“Returning dragons to the world?” Malys asked. Her voice was thick with disbelief and she kept both eyes open and on him now.

Khellendros nodded. “The unsuspecting dwarves freed the dragons. The dragons gathered great armies of lizard people, called bakali, and invaded the Silvanesti forests to seek revenge against the elves. The oldest trees were trampled and the elven casualties were staggering. The dragons hoped to slaughter the entire race, cast them into extinction. And the dragons might have succeeded. Should have succeeded. But, again, it was not to be.”

“What happened? Were you there?”

“No. I was not yet born. And I suspect none of the dragons who walk Krynn now were alive then, save our Queen, Takhisis,” Khellendros replied. “But all dragons— all the dragons of Ansalon— know what happened and share our common history. I am revealing it to you so you can better understand your new kin.”

“Go on,” she urged.

“Three sorcerers and a scion, one of the world’s more magical creatures, summoned powerful forces and demanded that the very earth swallow the dragons for all eternity. The dragons were not buried, but they were defeated and driven away. And the smug elves went on with their lives and again took our land.”

“But the dragons obviously rose to power again,” Malys stated.

“Yes. Takhisis would not let it be otherwise. She called on the lizard people, and with their help planted eggs deep in the mines of Thoradin. When the eggs hatched, the young dragons devoured their caretakers and grew strong, and they hid in the mines for a few centuries— until they were large enough to strike in the Dark Queen’s name. That time was called the Third Dragon War, the bloodiest of the struggles and the most costly. The humans barely survived. Wave upon wave of dragons swooped down on them, breathing fire, lightning, acid, poison, and frost. Victory should have belonged to us. But the good dragons, the meddlesome silvers and golds, intervened. The humans crafted enchanted lances, and from the backs of their dragon allies they flew against us. In the end, Takhisis fell. She agreed to leave Krynn, taking her children with her.”

“And this happened...”

“More than fifteen hundred years after the second war, which was about two thousand years ago.”

“A long time,” Malys mused.

“But not so long as far as history is concerned. Or dragons.” The Red snarled and flicked her tail. It was clear she didn’t like being corrected. “And the dragons...”

“Reawakened once more about four hundred years ago. Takhisis discovered a gate and returned to the world to lead us. I was there.” Khellendros paused for a moment, wondering if Malys would realize he was much larger and more formidable than a four hundred-year-old dragon should be. But he decided Malys probably did not know about the portals, and about how time passes between them. And she surely did not know much about the age and size of dragons in Ansalon.

“What happened?” she persisted.

“As time passed, we made a pact with ogres and wicked humans, beings who had no compunction against killing their own. The Dark Queen’s armies grew, draconians were born, and the land finally came under our control.” Khellendros stared at a spot on the plateau, his mind drifting back to those days. “The time was dubbed the War of the Lance. It was a time unlike any other. Dragon Highlords, select humans with military minds, led us into one superb battle after the next. From atop our backs, they helped us achieve victory over their brethren.”

“You were partnered with a human ?” She spit the last word out as if it were a spoiled piece of meat.

“Kitiara.” Khellendros spoke the name softly, almost reverently.

“And where is she now, this Kit-ee-ar-ah?”

“Human bodies are frail.”

“My point,” Malys hissed.

“But human minds are extraordinary,” Khellendros continued. “As the battle raged, a lone human, another wizard, sacrificed himself to seal the Abyss— with the Dark Queen inside. Men rebuilt their world, and we dragons schemed in the background.”

“But we are not in the background any longer. And men are without magic now,” Malys growled. “They are without their gods, without power. They are cattle. And I have plans for them.”

Now it was Khellendros’s turn to listen. The great Blue looked into her eyes and saw the hint of a smile.

“Some will be kept in pens,” Malys began, “just like they keep cattle. They’ll breed for us, giving us a constant food supply. Humans, elves, dwarves. All of them.” Malys studied Khellendros, gauging if he was appalled by the idea. But his expression held steady, and the Red was pleased. “The smartest and the easiest to dominate will be used as spies. I want to know what is going on in their cities, and the loyal spies that I cultivate will tell me.”

The Blue reached a talon up and idly scratched at his lower jaw. “I warned you that humans are clever. You will not find many who will cooperate with you.”

“But I will find enough. And those who dare to stand up to me will be slaughtered.” Malys rose on her haunches until her eyes were level with those of Khellendros. “Hundreds, thousands of them must be slaughtered anyway. Their population must be held in check, kept down. They must be kept under control. This time the humans will not be able to chase us from the face of Krynn because we will not give them the opportunity.”