A Ballad to the Future

Chapter 1/Prologue

December 25th, 589

An averaged size, golden scaled European dragon of the Magus tribe soared through the air, with two elk trapped in-between his jaws. They died the instant Krynin caught them. His foot long teeth glided though their flesh like an oar through water. The dragon grinned as well as he could with four hundred pounds of meat in his mouth, anticipating his return to the cave that housed his family deep in the mountains. Dragons were solitary creatures, and they lived only with their immediate family, if with any of their kin at all.

What he saw when he closed into his territory was not what he expected. A crimson glow cast an eerie light on his home, and smoke was rising from it. Had his family already caught their dinner and started to roast it? No, he was the only one who hunted. None of his children were even able to fly yet, and his mate only tended to their son and two daughters. Was she showing them how to manipulate fire, one of their most basic abilities? That wasn't what young dragons learn first though, flying took priority. No, someone had attacked them.

He closed the remaining distance as his mind raced as to what dragon attacked them, and why. Perhaps a blood clan had gone too long without a quenched thirst, and his family was the only thing close enough? Perhaps someone had a vendetta against him or his wife? He worried mostly for her, for nothing would ever touch the children, he knew that. He would be more devastated by the loss of one of them than his mate.

There was no time left to think as he zeroed in on his home. What he saw was nothing like what he expected. There were hundreds of little creatures crowding the front of his cave, where he saw his mate bravely protecting his young. These creatures gleamed in the orange light, pieces of them giving an unnatural shine. They had large contraptions of twisted rope, wood and iron, hauling pieces of rock and fire into the chest of his wife, the only thing preventing them from entering the bodies his children.

The dragon Krynin flew into a blind rage, and landed on several of the creatures, crushing them with his weight. He swept several more out of the way with the back of his hand, and grabbed another in-between his claws. The creature was metal. No, covered in metal.

Suddenly, he felt a stinging, burning sensation in his flank. The two legged creatures were hauling small pieces of fiery iron at him attached to a wooden shaft, propelled by some sort of handheld suspension mechanism. They bounced off his scales, useless. Two, however, flew straight through the membrane of his ten foot long wings. Krynin roared in pain and called up the power within him, surging his own flames down upon the bodies of these strange, murderous creatures.

He heard the cry of his son, from above the hills that surrounded their cave. "Stay back, child!" he called to the hatchling, but he would not listen. The youngling came rushing down the mountain to help his father, and save his family. A sharp pain entered through the bottom of Krynin's jaw. Another of the creatures, completely covered in metal, had rammed a sharp piece of it through the bottom of Krynin's mouth. More fire spilled into the horde of assailants.

"Watch out!" cried the youngling, as another of the fiery rocks were hurled at his father. By chance, it flew into his open mouth, rushing through the fire and plugging up his throat. Krynin was knocked onto his back; the force of it ripped the flesh from his esophagus and broke his neck. He didn't struggle against the choking, he knew he was going to die. He couldn't move anymore. He had failed his family and was broken by the hands of these strange, violent creatures. With his final moments, he saw his mate trying to reach his son, but the entrance of the cave was barred by fire. They were not immune to all heat, like the Fire clan, and natural flames still hurt them. Smoke filled their cave, and he heard the choking breaths of his daughters. His vision faded, and he died, his soul filled with hate and rancor.

December 25th, 1278

Krynin the sixth awoke to the smell of smoke, and the cry of his daughter. Fear struck in his heart, he leaped to his feet and instinctively stood over his only child, in an attempt to protect her from whatever was out there. He remembered this scene all to well, and dreaded what was to come. This time, however, he was not listening to his father’s old horror stories about the pink primates dressed in cowhide and iron, he was experiencing it. His mate was out finding food, and he hoped she wouldn't be home too soon, or he might lose her to these psychotic murderers. A wall of fire kept him from exiting the cave, and the familiar burning rocks flew into it. He was bigger now, at the prime of his adulthood, and was confident that he was strong enough to take a boulder or two to the chest and not suffer any permanent damage.

Unfortunately, more than a boulder or two was hurled. Krynin the fifth felt a rib crack as the fourth hit him, and then another as the sixth hit him, but as long as his child was safe, he didn't care. His daughter was the only thing that mattered to him. Suddenly, his wife came diving out of the sky, plunging headlong into the attackers. He cried her name, he told her to stop, that it was too dangerous, but her ties to him were as strong as his ties to her. She started tearing into the hapless creatures, but they quickly regained their wits and fought back.

A large net was thrown over her, preventing her from taking flight. Searing hot bits of metal on long sticks were jabbed into her; with the addition of heat, they easily plunged into her scales. Fear for his mate overtook Krynin's fear of the flames in his way, and he flew out of his cave, scorched by the fire, but free to wreak havoc on his attackers. They were obviously not prepared for this, as they screamed in panic and terror at the invincible bull dragon that faced them now. He spread open his wings to full length and let out a mighty bellow that shook the earth. His bloodlust took over him, and only when the last one was dead did he look to his wife. She had that piece of hot metal stuck deep inside of her chest and belly. The wound was fatal, and he knew it. Then, he heard his child cry.

He tried to rush to her rescue, but the barricade of heat had grown too high and wide. He knew that even if he could dive back in to save her, she would not survive the dive back out. Her flesh, and his, would be seared and boiled into a charcoaled mass before he could even get halfway through. The most agonizing part was knowing that he might have saved her if he had not been so diligent in destroying their attackers instead of letting them flee. Krynin the second roared in anguish, and swore vengeance upon these creatures entire race.

December 25th, 1390

"The human infestation grows every day," the dragon said in his own native language to his audience. He was over twelve feet tall, on all fours, and a row of intimidating stark white teeth shone from under his lips as he spoke. His scales were the golden color of a member of the Magus tribe, and his eyes were opaque yellow and as large as dinner plates; they held the light of intelligent life within them. "They slaughter our kind without provocation. They kill our men, women, and children, and for what? A few petty scales they could pick up from our shedding instead? The 'safety' of their towns? We have never threatened them. Maybe a few have eaten them for food a few times, when hunting was scarce, but that does not afford genocide!" The other dragons nodded in aggreance. "If they wanted justice, they could have taken it up with the Blood clan, the only ones known to have ever attacked humans. But instead, they start to kill us all. I have lost a mother, a father, a mate, an uncle, four aunts, six cousins, a brother, two sisters, a daughter and countless friends to these miniature monsters. They use their fake fire and twisted metal contraptions to bring us to our knees and poke so many holes in us we bleed to death. Maybe if they didn't attack us on sight, we could learn their language and negotiate, or maybe if we could rise an army of our own… But we are too few."

"Then what are we gonna do? We gotta get away from them! They gonna kill us all!" An upstart in the audience spoke up. All the others cried out their own fears.

"Silence!" Roared Krynin the seventh, the king of dragons, as he spread his mighty, ten foot wings. There was immediate compliance. "There is only one answer! It may be weak, and cowardly, but in the interest of mere survival… We must hide." There was more silence.

"Were we gonna go, mista?" A child spoke.

"The hatchling is right. The humans scowl every inch of the earth; there is no place on it they cannot find us." Her father continued.

"Then we go under it," The Magus King Krynin the seventh answered. "Under mother earth, the only place save for under the oceans that humans have not yet penetrated. They are not moles, nor fish, nor birds. They have only the land. We can fly, but we cannot fly forever. We can swim, but we cannot breath the water as the Sea clan does. And we may not be built for digging…" He held up his impressive, foot long claws. "But we can definitely dig far enough to hide."

December 25th, 2125

Krynin the thirteenth overlooked the battle plans one final time before signaling the first wave. It had to be perfect; the humans had to be completely wiped out in one fell swoop, to avenge the countless deaths they had delivered to his race in a time of defenselessness. He knew nothing of these attacks; he was not alive for any of them. Krynin the thirteenth was born in the underground city of Shamlin, the son of Krynin the twelfth, King of the Magus clan. His father died of old age one hundred years previous, but he would see his fathers vengeance put into action. He would rid the world of the monstrous humans, and finally, his race could be free to roam the earth that was their home once again. Even the Water clan had to go into hiding after the 1940's, when humans discovered the means to keep themselves alive under the oceans.

He gave the signal. The hundreds of millions of troops positioned around the world burst from their underground hiding places, raining lead into the soft bodies of the advanced primates. Though the base troop of the dragon army, the Ark'nem, an almost humanoid, unintelligent, wingless, low class dragon was almost as small as the average human, they were still stronger and faster than any human could ever be. They used the borrowed technology of firearms against the humans, and traced all of their operations with their own satellite systems. Everything was in place so that nobody could possibly escape the rain of death that was set before them.

Everything was going as planned. Underground bombs were set off, triggering earthquakes that shook the foundations of the human's civilization, and prevented them from retaliating. The Ark'nem ravaged the civilians, and the higher class dragons, the Kelsheem, about the same size and shape as the Ark'nem but much more intelligent and not without wings, tore through military bases before they could possibly mobilize.

Then, something unexpected happened. After an hour of unopposed success, human military contraptions started popping up from unregistered bases, places that never should have harbored such vehicles. Krynin the thirteenth knew these weapons well; he watched hundreds of year’s warfare between the humans, watching them blow each other up with such devices. But usually, they were registered on some sort of database, and his technicians had scoured the government databases of every established country for years, over and over again, to be sure they had accounted for everything. Was it possible that the governments of these nations had hidden weapons from even themselves?

Then, something even more unexpected happened. Civilians were bearing out arms and fighting back. Ark'nem were dying. Even Kelsheem were dying. This wasn't part of the plan. Even though he was at the highest class of dragon hierarchy, the Baltresh, who had still retained their original, four legged, winged form, he felt the death of each one of his kin like a sting in his side. Their com-links were blinking out one by one, and it was because he hadn't prepared for it.

Krynin was forced to let the Shav'yu out early. They were one rank under Baltresh, and one rank above Kelsheem, but much more powerful than both. They stood an average of nine feet tall, and usually had no hind legs whatsoever; they had only the upper body of a huge Ark'nem, and the lower body of a great snake. They were, however, not extremely intelligent, and for this reason, were not the ruling class. This did not mean that they were not of the highest military value to dragon society, even in spite of their low birth-rates.

He let the wave of these ferocious beasts free, and the battle once again turned into a slaughter. Krynin smiled. There was a hitch in the plan, but it was fixed. The human race would be wiped out forever. His rightful place, and indeed, the rightful place of all dragons in the world, would be secured.

Nobody could have predicted what happened next. Shav'yu were dying now, as well. They gave reports of unnaturally fast, strong, cunning humans, ripping holes into their ranks with ease. There was only a few reports of these, coming from the island the humans called Japan, one from the continent the humans called North America, and one from the continent labeled Russia. But it was all the difference needed to drag their attack into despair. They could have still easily won the battle. But Krynin's men had never been in battle before. Their morale took a severe blow every time one of their fellow soldiers was slain.

Krynin was forced to call off the attack to prevent his troops from committing mutiny. Their casualties were nothing compared to human casualties in human wars, but then again, they were not the same murderous monsters. They could not ignore the death of their kin.

July 24, 2126

The humans had made a miraculous recover since the initial attack made against them. They had managed to sustain themselves and even start making counterstrikes against the new dragon bases popping up on the surface. Although almost 75% of their population was butchered, they were crafty, and had much more experience in killing. Their technologies were also more advanced, and their soldiers were, naturally, much more ruthless. Krynin delegated with the other clan kings on what they would do next.

Obviously, this war was not going to be ended in one day as originally intended. In fact, it was going so badly for him that he didn't think the war would even end within the next few years. This was more than just a political struggle for the humans, and Krynin didn't seem to take that into account. That didn't make them any less deserving of death.

Krynin read more and more on the tactics humans used against each other to pass the time between military meetings. Other kings from other clans, once banded together under one solid cause, started to break apart from one another because of differing opinions on how to spend resources and end the war as quickly as possible.

Krynin's main concern was to create a world of peace for his race. Other's seemed to want to use the war for profit. And still others wanted to hound the humans for as long as possible, keeping them alive under impossible circumstances, before they could kill them. Torture of that kind was not necessary, but the Blood clan held firm to their expressed desires. The only clan to not take part in the first attack, the Gaia clan, even proposed to make peace, which was met with all around disapproval.

This was a complicated matter, and would take years to hammer out. Krynin just hoped it would not cost the lives of any more of his kin, for enough had died at the hands of humans hundreds and hundreds of years ago. All he wanted was an end, but none seemed to be in sight. Only time could tell…