Post by sera on Apr 15, 2009 10:38:01 GMT -8
When the world began, it was a spinning mass of land and water, with but one thing to distinguish it from other such whirling balls. Encircling the entire planet, a long, multi-winged dragon slept, contemplating things as he rested. Through the aeons, he slept and thought until the day he woke.
On the day he woke, the dragon lifted his head and shook it, sending a spray of scales across the lands. He breathed forth, and the wind touched the scales and the races grew from the scales.
In the waters, the merfolk spread the tails and fins. In the mountains, the dwarves touched their stone. In the woods, the elves looked to their trees with relief. Across the grasslands, the centaurs pounded the ground with their hooves. In the hills, the humans saw the world with wonder. In the mountains, the dragons stretched their wings to the skies and sang to their creator.
Hearing their song, the dragon wrapped around the world put down his head again and closed his eyes, thoughts mixing with his dreams. Sometimes he twitches, and loose scales will fall through the world. In his sleep, he sighs, and those scales are touched with the magic life of his breath and grow into their own beings and creatures, mimicking, perhaps, the ideas of his sleeping mind.
The dragons call him Eternity, for his lifespan knows no bounds. They sleep to connect with him, the older dragons passing on their facts to the younger, and leaving them to spread the word among the races. In their sleep, the dragons do not dream, but they remember what they've been told.
On the day he woke, the dragon lifted his head and shook it, sending a spray of scales across the lands. He breathed forth, and the wind touched the scales and the races grew from the scales.
In the waters, the merfolk spread the tails and fins. In the mountains, the dwarves touched their stone. In the woods, the elves looked to their trees with relief. Across the grasslands, the centaurs pounded the ground with their hooves. In the hills, the humans saw the world with wonder. In the mountains, the dragons stretched their wings to the skies and sang to their creator.
Hearing their song, the dragon wrapped around the world put down his head again and closed his eyes, thoughts mixing with his dreams. Sometimes he twitches, and loose scales will fall through the world. In his sleep, he sighs, and those scales are touched with the magic life of his breath and grow into their own beings and creatures, mimicking, perhaps, the ideas of his sleeping mind.
The dragons call him Eternity, for his lifespan knows no bounds. They sleep to connect with him, the older dragons passing on their facts to the younger, and leaving them to spread the word among the races. In their sleep, the dragons do not dream, but they remember what they've been told.