The Tales Of Fyre

Chapter One

Greetings, trainer. I am Fyre, an elfin dragon trainer from far away lands. I was raised in a world of mystical beings, faeries, dragons, and so on. I have seen the birth of new stars and the creation of worlds. You ask me of how I came to be who I am? Very well, I shall tell you. I was born in the year 3035 BC, your time, in a dimesion where Dragons, Phoenixes, and Durahans roamed freely. I was born into a tribe of elfin watchers of the land, called the VizJeri. We lived in a small village, one of 20 small huts centered around a massive white fountain. Finally, there was a giant building, which was where most of the meetings were held. The huts were made of dried branches and mud. The fountain was truely magnificent, one of our creations we took pride in. It had a circular base, with portruding rings coming out, one circling the top of the base, one circling the bottom. There were carvings of the mighty, ancient battles that were fought by the monsters. Some depicted Durahan War Heroes, while others showed the nobility and power of a Phoenix as they crushed even the mightiest of foes. On top of the base was a one foot pillar, with gems and other beautiful stones. It needed to be awe-looking, for it held on top of it, a statue of the Garuda. The craftsmenship was superb; They would watch over the land and the monsters, ensuring the safety of all beings. I often ran to the Plains of the Garuda, to be with the Durahans that live there. It was called the Plains of the Garuda because of a legend that had told of a mighty warrior, part Durahan and part Phoenix, called the Garuda, rising from the hearts of the people and defending the realm against the ultimate evil. No one knew what to think of these legends. There was no proof that they were real, but there was no proof that they were not. The people and monsters chose to stay with the name and the legend, for there was no harm in doing so, and gave new beliefs to the Durahans. At 10, I made a bond with Kz'Krynn, the nearby Dragon of our town. We could share thoughts with each other, and often had interesting conversations on how the land was faring against the Daroks, an evil force of Centaur invaders from the north. The Daroks were a terrible race. If one was not scared away by their fearsome and brutal reputation, one would most certainly find fear in their appearance: They stood to be nine feet tall. From their chests down, they had the muscular body of a horse, but distorted in some ways. Their hoofs were as strong as the indestructable rock, the Charaz, and with enough force could break through the strongest of armor. From the waist up, they were green-yellowish in color, with muscles of steel and long, raking talons. Their faces, green also, were that of a humans, but had the beak of a Phoenix. A popular hairstyle among them was the Centaur Mohawk, a hairstyle used by many of the Darok warriors. They always carried swords, sheilds, spears, or other sadistic looking weapons, yet they never wore armor, for their greatest ability was their speed, and they did not want the heavy weight of armor to slow them down.

On occasions, KzKrynn and I would wander off into a nearby forest, and see what things we could find. After a short while, we grew to be good friends. We spent the mornings watching the morning dew fall, the afternoons wandering the forests of Acheron, and the evenings watching the golden sun set. It would seem as if life was perfect. But alas, the gods were bound to punish us for our happiness. Disaster struck in the form of war. The Daroks had heard rumors that Kz'Krynn's blood had the power to give immortality. This was merely a rumor, and nothing more, yet the Daroks in their arrogance refused to believe it was a lie, and attacked the village. I remember that day well: It was a foggy morning; you could see the mountains in the distance, hiding the new days sun behind them. It was peaceful and quiet, but to me, it seemed too quiet. There were usually the sounds of Phoenixes crying in the morning, yet this time there were none. There were no sounds at all. People walked out of their huts slowly, looking, listening for something, anything. It was then we heard the bellow of a horn in the distance. The sign of a Darok attack. It was a tradition of theirs to blow a war horn right before they attacked their target, to in a way frighten the prey. I quickly ran back inside my hut, and grabbed my sword. KzKrynn was already at the gates, waiting for the attack. ((Are you ready, young one?)), he said, through my mind. Aye, I am. If we are to die, twould be no better day to do so. ((Your courage inspires me, young one. Why do you not flee as the others do?)) The day I run from an enemy is the day I will lay down and die. If I die, I die in battle. ((Very well, then. May you live to see the dawn.)) With that, I heard the scream of an old woman. They come! Korinthas! They come! I looked through the gates and saw something I still, to this day, can hardly believe. It was as if a dark cloud itself had touched the gorund and rushed toward us, with an unknowledgeable speed. It was the forces of the Daroks, 10,000 strong. Where are the Durahans?! Are they not coming to rescue us?! ((The mighty armies of the Durahans are no more, young one.)) The Durahans were widely-known as the strongest forces in the land, with their nearly-inpenatrable armor, and giant swords of Charaz stone. For a moment, I thought I felt fear, but I quickly banashed the thought from me as we embraced the hordes.

What happened next, shall be engrained forever in my memory, for so long as I live. Kz'Krynn and I fought side by side, me with my sword, and Kz'Krynn with his claws and flames of nature. We made our way through the Daroks and found ourselves at the Garuda Fountain. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a Darok warrior, chasing a mother with her two children. Enraged, I charged the Darok and struck, saving the three peasants. It was then I heard a terrible roar. It sounded like the cry of a dying star breathing it's last. I whirled around to see Kz'Krynn with a spear in his chest. A Darok jumped on him, then two more. I ran to aid my fallen friend, when suddenly I was struck on the back of my head by a Darok's mace. I became unconscious.

That was the last I saw of Kz'Krynn. Now I raise dragons on a secret ranch in the woods we once wandered. It is protected by the trees around it, so no others can see it, unless they are foolish enough to wander into the woods while hearing the roars of dragons in the distance. I raise my dragons in the memory of my friend Kz'Krynn, and pray that wherever he is, he is happy.

-- ElfinFyre (NeoGenesis_15@hotmail.com), July 10, 2000