• She was cold, so very cold, and the weight of time leaned heavily upon her. The great opaline dragoness was ancient, even for her kind. She lay coiled arount the peak of the mountain, Her wings had a light dusting of snow. Once the piercing cold would not have bothered her, but now her scales had worn thin. Her fire had deserted her, and she was dieing.

    It would not be long now... Ramuthra screamed in pain as the darkness tried to bore a hole in the mindweft. The last three dragons, her, Arulana, and Murakara had held of the darkness. Murakara and Arulana had died, leaving only her. Once it would not have been a problem, once when another dragon would have taken her place. But the others were dead. She, Ramuthra, was the last of her race. Another shot of pain, a little spurt of darkness came from her mouth as some of the evil escaped. The world would end soon. Her mindweft weakened, her breath faded with every hour that passed.

    A strange sight appeared in front of her face, a girl riding upon a gargoyle, a well adapted dragon kin who would survive even if the darkness broke free. The creature landed on the ancient dragon's back, and the girl clambered onto ramuthra's back. She had pale skin and deep, green eyes flecked with gold. Dragon's eyes. "i know you must go now" She spoke with a gentle, soothing voice. "I am here to help you pass on." The dragoness was taken aback, how did a hatchling know these things? She opened her great jaws,

    "I am ramuthra, queen of the dragons. Last and greatest of my race" Even ill as she was, her voice echoed impressively. The child sat near her ear, stroking the scales and singing something in dragonsong, somethuing, that if translated, sounded like this:

    If only if only the woodpecker sighs,
    The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies!
    While far down below, the wolf sad and lonely,
    Sings to the Moo-o-o-ooon!
    If only if only

    The ancient beast found her eyes growing heavy, She felt a sudden surge of power, for before a dragon dies they take their last flight. Ramuthra flexed her powerful talons, her muscles rippled, and she uncoiled herself from the mountain. She sprang into the air, dragonsong bubbling from her throat. She flew around and around, the child clinging to her back like a tick. the gargoyle had hopped of and was on the mountain's peak, watching. Ramuthra coiled her lower half in midair, and, arching her neck, roared in defiance of the darkness and, reaching inside herself, found the fire she thought she had lost.


    That night, miles away, a bright flame lit up the night. Humans hiding in the fields looked at it, and, to their amazement, saw a dragon.
    The last.
    The queen.
    And she was magnificent magnificent magnificent!
    They watched as she became one with the flame she discharged, as she turned into the flame, and as the flame, int he shape of a dragon, flew and became one with the earth.
    That night the scream of a woman pierced the air as the darkness broke through.
    That night, atop the mountain, a tapping could be heard from inside a stone.
    That night, a new dragon was born. And that dragon would take up Ramuthra's role. That dragon, now the most powerful to ever exist, could hold the darkness back, even as an infant.
    That dragon was the queen.

    The hatchling squealed. It wanted its mother, blinking its slime coated eyelids, it saw the world for the first time.
    And it was horrible.
    Dark, revolting masses with red eyes of various numbers lined the caverns walls as if trapped behind glass. More and more were sucked in as the mindweft dragged them in. Monsters clawed at the walls, shrieking at the tiny silver dragon who cowered at the back of the cave. It whimpered quietly and closed its golden eyes.

    Claws clicking against a hard surface opened the little hatchling's eyes, seeing a grotesque face similar to a dragon's, with a blunted snout and white eyes. Thick stone wings were folded against its side. "come here, hatchling." It growled, extending a forepaw. A quiet voice echoed in the infant's mind, the word gargoyle. The hatchling raised spines on its back and hissed, showing tiny fangs. "you have courage, hatchling. You need a name, though." The gargoyle had a grating, stony voice. It seemed to think for a moment before speaking; "You will be called Verity. The light in the darkness The hatchling hissed again as the gargoyle approached, terror glinting in its eyes. The gargoyle chuckled, a horrid noise like nails on a chalkboard. "i promise, child, you won't be harmed, you're far too valuble."

    The hatchling cautiously crept forward into the extended paw. The stone was hard and smelled of brimstone, but was warm. Curling up, the hatchling, now known as Verity, drifted into sleep.

    Verity blinked her eyes, it had been almost three years since she hatched, and she knew not all the world was dark. She had seen the funny little humans, bright insects, rolling green grasses, bright flowers, the sun! She sat in her cave and rested. Now six feet at the shoulder, verity could care for herself. She gazed at the c***k of sky visible from the mouth of her mother's cave, her cave. She sat and thought about Gargoyle. Where was it?

    Irritation broke through her thoughts as The Darkness hissed at her. She hissed right back, showing fangs, and it immediately fell silent. The dragoness was proud of her strength and prowess, and the beauty of her scales in the firelight. She was not vain, but she was proud. As gargoyle had put it, she was "her mother's child." She missed gargoyle, with the long conversations, even the sarcastic remarks. She sighed, she was lonely, but not in the way she was used to.