The Fall of The Dragons (Legend)

In the beginning before kingdoms had names and before history was written, two divine beings stood: Insayr, God of Life, and Amorhna, Goddess of Death. They were not enemies, nor were they rivals. They were two halves of the same whole. One could not exist without the other. Light is nothing without darkness, and darkness is meaningless without light.

It is often said that only Life can create. This is not true. Death is a sculptor, she molds her work, creating works of art out of life, like pieces of clay that lay before her. Life provides these pieces, he creates anything at a whim, but he does not have the power to change, not the way Amorhna can. Amorhna unravels what was once there and creates what Insayr cannot. Without his creations she cannot mold her sculptures. Without her, Insayr would crumble, as life cannot go on without death. And so, the universe was born of their balance.

From their union came the first creations of our world. Five great beings, each bound to an element.

The Dryad was made guardian of the earth, her spirit tied to the roots and soil.

The Dragon was given the skies, master of the wind and flight.

The Phoenix embodied fire and to be an eternal flame.

The Mermaid was shaped by the waters, ruling the sea.

And the Unicorn was gifted spirit, a being of purity and light.

Insayr and Amorhna cherished their first creations, watching over them as a parent watched over a child. Yet in time, the gods saw sadness begin to bloom. Each creature alone, as there was no other like them. Moved by the loneliness, the gods granted them each the power to create more of their kind.

From trees, new Dryads would be born, each sapling carrying a soul. Dragons would lay eggs, from which their kin would hatch. Phoenixes would rise anew from the ashes of the flames. Mermaids would carry their young within themselves. And Unicorns would be born beneath the full moon, bathed in its light.

With this gift, joy returned to the world. As time passed, more beings came into existence, Elves and Orcs, Gnomes, and Golems, and finally Humankind. The world fuller and more vibrant, richer with life and magic than ever before.

In time, the original Dragon grew restless. The skies no longer thrilled him, and flight felt rather empty now, and the gods hardly paid attention anymore. Seeking distraction, he went to the phoenix, hoping to ease his boredom with an old friend. The Phoenix, however, had no interest in entertaining him and turned away. Enraged and humiliated, the Dragon struck out and, in his fury, he slaughtered the Phoenix.

When the flames faded and only ash remained, he was left in shock. Desperate, he gathered what he could beneath his claws. As he did, he inhaled the drifting ash. From the ashes that remained below, a new phoenix was born, and from within the Dragons chest fire surged, spilling out from his mouth in a sudden hot breath. He recoiled in terror, apologized, and fled. The flames did not fade. Every huff sending sparks into the air. In that moment he realized something. This was no ordinary rebirth, and no ordinary flame. What the Dragon had taken into himself was not only fire, but a piece of the Phoenix’s eternal nature.

He now wielded fire.

At first, he was afraid of what this could mean. Then he was joyful. This power would bring him the attention he craved. He showed it proudly to his friends, but each time disaster followed.

A tree burned, and a Dryad died,

The water boiled, scalding the mermaid.

The Unicorns mane caught fire from his breath.

The attention became fear rather than admiration. At last, Insayr and Amorhna appeared before him for the first time in a long time. They told him fire was never meant for him to wield. He belonged to the skies, not the flames. His power was stolen, not earned, and it brought nothing but suffering. He refused to listen; he loved his newfound power too much.

So, the gods gave him a choice: relinquish the fire or be punished. Without hesitation, the Dragon chose the flames. And so, the gods carried out their judgement.

The next day when the Dragon awoke, his scales were gone. His great body replaced by mortal flesh and skin, when he looked out upon his kin, he saw the truth of his punishment. The curse had fallen upon all Dragons. From that day on, they were mortal. Enraged he cursed the gods but received no answer. Life and Death would no longer entertain him; he had chosen his path.

The longer this went on, the Dragons faced a far crueler reality. Though they lived as mortals, they could no longer reproduce. Their bodies lacked what they needed to bring forth new life, Mortality was not the end of this curse. The extinction of their kind was. Desperation hit, especially as age began to take notice. The Dragon prayed one final time. No longer was his prayer filled with rage, but with remorse. He confessed his sins and begged not for himself but for his kin.

The gods returned.

They did not forgive him. His crimes could never be undone. However, they did offer him one choice. The Dragons could live out their days as infertile mortals, or the Dragon could give his life, and in return, his kin would regain their wings, souls, and a new way to reproduce. They would remain mortal forever, for their old bodies were forever lost. The Dragon chose sacrifice.

When his life ended, the gods honored their word. The Dragons, although still humanlike, now had their wings returned, souls awakened and a new form of reproduction granted through magic alone.

What happened next, not even the gods could foresee. When the original Dragon fell, his stolen power did not fade. His fire flowed into his people, becoming a part of them forever. The Eternal Flame of a phoenix never truly goes away, when a phoenix dies its ashes turn into a new phoenix. This ended up being true, even for the Dragons’ flames.

And so, the age of Dragons continued, changed, cursed, and bound.