The Tears of Vaelarin

[draikfire]

Ages upon ages have passed since the legendary great scourge of the Realm of the Magi. All living memory of this cataclysmic event has long vanished; however, scraps of this tale still remain, a warning and a sacred myth in one, passed down through the generations of the Magi. Listen, now, and hear: Hear the tale of Vaelarin, the first legend of this mighty Realm, and remember for years yet to come.

Long ago, when the humans first discovered that they possessed the powers of the Ancients, of gramarye, they were already a strong race, strong, confident, and arrogant enough to risk the wrath of the oldest spirit beings in the Realm they inhabited, the creatures of legend, the Mythkin. They had grown to believe that they were the true masters of the Realm, and so it was inevitable that a conflict would eventually arise.

The current ruler of the race of humans, a strong Magi named King Falor by humankind, disregarded the warnings of the elders of his people, and, young and proud, hunted down and slew an innocent hatchling, a Dragon of the Sun, and drank its blood as was the custom after a kill, proclaiming himself and his race superior to the mindless, bloodthirsty beasts his people once revered. The foolish young king drew his glittering golden blade from the creature`s blood-soaked breast, and dragged the small corpse back to his ale hall like a common boar slaughtered for a feast. He mounted the dragon`s head above his throne and decorated his robe with its brilliant white scales, so all who came before him would know his prowess.

Such a fool this king was.

Now, at this time, in the gray forest before the dawn, the parents of the dead hatchling awoke and discovered the blood in the nest, and smelled the stench of the human, and many roars rent the sky that night as the Celestial Dragons prepared to take revenge on the arrogant insect that had dared slay Valenna, the daughter of the ancient King of Dragons.

That night was a night of blood, of anger, of revenge, and of hatred, as the Celestial Dragons flew as a maddened whole to the king`s city on the edge of their forest, blinded by sorrow and by their wrath as they slaughtered countless innocent Magi in an attempt to reach the king. King Falor, betrayed by the shining white scales he wore that glowed in the darkness, was caught and killed like a deer by the vengeful mother of Valenna, the Dragon Queen Ny`thera.

But though the kind was now dead, the bloodletting did not stop there. Many dragons were killed by the Magi`s arcane arts and swords and spears and arrows, and the humans lost many of their number. Both races had lost, and neither gained anything but lust for revenge.

That bloody night was the mere prelude to the terrible seven years that followed, and the killing did not stop with the Celestial race. Waging war on all the sentient, intelligent creatures of myth that they believed now to be beasts, the Magi slew many, from the pure white Pegasi to the powerful Kraken as it slept beneath the sea, to the Gryphons that roosted in the far reaches of the mountains, and many others besides. The malignant Magi together summoned a great pestilence, a sickness to sweep the races of the Mythkin, a plague that left them weak and almost dead, a scourge that left very few alive.

All the races of the Realm of the Magi were devastated, but none suffered so much as the Mythkin, whose many races had begun to vanish. Those Mythkin that still lived fled to places unknown, and as legend has it, to different Realms, in an effort to escape mankind. At long last, after four-and-eighty violent months of murder and conflict and war, only a few humans lived, very few indeed. And of the Mythkin, only one survived, she who bore no race and no name, a glittering white creature whose wings were torn from many battles and whose brilliant hide was scarred as proof of the war she had endured, golden talons and silver hind hooves chipped and broken. She was the oldest of all Mythkin, one of the first to hatch and the first to walk in the Realm of Magi.

But even she could not escape the great sickness for long.

The last victim of the Magi`s scourge, she dragged herself to the banks of a small, pure, clear blue stream, one of the few that had not been tainted by either Magi or Mythkin blood. She collapsed on her side, overcome by the plague, leaving smears of indigo-blue, silvery lifeblood that ran in small rivulets down to the stream. She lapped a few drops from the clear, fresh water, and rested her great head on the very edge of the water, golden tears falling like pearls to the water.

And so it was that, with the tears still falling into the stream, the last Mythkin died, her last vestiges of energy spent.

But all hope was not lost. The tears and the blood that ran together in the stream created a great magic, the likes of which has never been known, and the tears were given form, and became eggs. Eggs of many forms and shapes and colors, eggs that floated gently down the stream, caressed by the water`s warm embrace.

It would not be much later that the last remaining Magi discovered the miracle and took the eggs from the water to raise them, and not much later that they would discover the last Mythkin`s body, and gave her a name: Vaelarin, the Beginning.

Over time, the stream became known to the new generations of Magi, who, one by one, journeyed to its legendary waters to care for a creature or creatures of their own, a partner that would stand by them through trouble and through peace, as a last tribute to the inherited memories they all shared, the sacrifice of Vaelarin. And to this day, they stand by us, protectors and friends, and the spirit of Vaelarin watches over all the Magi who care for the creatures born of her blood and her tears, and knows that never again will another war arise, so long as her descendants and the Magi hear and honor her legend.

[draikfire]

That was....er.....long. Sorry about that. Ahem. That took forever...>.>

So, what do you guys think? Good?

[Finlandia]

That was so sad!

So beautiful! Stoopid huumans. Such a lovely story... *sniffle*
I need a tissue.

[draikfire]

Really? Thanks, Fin. ^-^ Yes, dullard humans. Sigh. Thank you for your comment! I appreciate you reading the result of an epic spazz.

[Finlandia]

I was having a crazy then, i got a little silly.

But in all seriousness, this is not a spaz. It is a beautiful piece of writing that is, sadly, relevent to real life. I just hope we can stop killing everything before it gets that bad.

[draikfire]

I was having a crazy then, i got a little silly.

But in all seriousness, this is not a spaz. It is a beautiful piece of writing that is, sadly, relevent to real life. I just hope we can stop killing everything before it gets that bad.

Now that you mention it, it does seem to relate to life here...ah, if only we had a Vaelarin to help us. ._. Thanks again!

[Claudia]

This is really good but the beginning might not be a good choice for younger users it might be too graphic for them

[SilverSpyro]

Cool.

[darkie]

That was beautiful, Meg! I really admire this piece of work. You thought it out well. Good luck on winning!

[draikfire]

This is really good but the beginning might not be a good choice for younger users it might be too graphic for them

Yeah...I was worried about that, so I kept it to a minimun....I can really get a lot worse...