by Paul Lucas

"Tell me again, mother!" the little dragon cried. "Tell me again!"

"But I just finished that story."

"Tell me again!"

The mother dragon sighed, smoky wisps hissing through ivory teeth. Light from the dying sun slanted through the entrance of her mountain-side den, splashing the outer stones with deep shadows and rusty crimson. The cave's high vantage point gave her a magnificent view of the stark, gray-black mountain range that was her hunting ground.

Her hatchling ran in haphazard circles around her, batting her with his stubby little wings to emphasize his words. She couldn't help but smile. He was so eager, so full of joy at such simple things. How could she refuse him?

But his fascination with the story of Tiamat disturbed her. Most hatchlings were frightened after hearing Tiamat's tale. She had been, as a youngster three centuries ago. After all, they, like all dragons, had to sleep in the depths of the Tyrant.

But her worries for her hatchling pierced deeper than that. The Seers--those venerable old Wyrms with the torn wings, flaking scales, and mystical talk--had told her on his hatching day that his spirit had a very special destiny to fulfill, one that would take him far beyond the reaches of the closely-knit community of Dragons. One that could change the course of events for all the races of the Eleven Worlds.

His destiny, they had said, would fly in the same winds as that of humans.

She frowned. Humans. Those disgusting, mud-crawling grubs, living in stone and wood hives in eternal servitude to the Earth. It seemed incomprehensible that her beautiful hatchling would ever have anything to do with such savage creatures, save for raiding their herds of mindless food-beasts for an occasional meal.

And when she had asked the Seers if his destiny would be a happy one, they had only turned their heads sadly away.

"Mother? What's wrong?"

She hid her anxieties in the smoke of a chuckle. "Nothing, spirit-heart. My mind was just wandering. So, you want to hear of Tiamat again?"

"Oh, yes! Yes!" The youngster hopped up and down, beating his small wings furiously, clouds of dust exploding under them.

The mother dragon chuckled again, ducking her head in the wake of the swirling debris. "All right! All right! Calm down, little flier, and I'll begin the tale."

She reared her head back on her long, sinuous neck and arced her wings out to frame her face dramatically, as was the tradition in the telling of the tale. "Listen well, hatchling," she began in a stern, serious tone. The young dragon settled back onto his haunches and stared at her with the wide eyes of rapt attention. "For what you are about to hear you must tell to your own hatchlings one day, as I was told the story just out of the egg. For the story of Tiamat is the story of our people's birth, and of our destiny . . .

- - -

In the beginning, there was no sky.

There was only the Tyrant Earth, a vast sphere of rock and water and mud, and the starry void. In a lonely, self-indulgent whim, the Tyrant created all the plants and creatures in the world so that they would worship him. He clutched his creations close to his bosom with crushing gravity, so that none could ever escape his jealous embrace. He especially held near his greatest and most fearsome creations, the One True People whome he cherished above all. For it was to they he gave the gift of souls and conscious thought, so they might worship him as no other creatures could.

They were the first Dragons.

The Dragons writhed under the terrible domination of the Earth, forever crawling at the mercy of his whims, but took no action against him, for they knew of no other life. They hunted and culled the mindless herd-beasts as the Earth commanded them to, so that the creatures would not grow too numerous. When Dragons died, the Earth would snatch their spirits away at the moment of death, drawing them into his fiery heart so they could never escape. The Dragons became sorrowful and resentful in their eternal servitude to the arrogant tyrant, and suffered so with sickened hearts for untold generations.

Until one day, Tiamat, the Dragon Queen, filled with great pain after witnessing a lifetime of suffering for her people, could tolerate no more. She journeyed to the Heart of the World, a great, hellish realm filled with the fire of all the Earth's captured souls, to confront the tyrant. "Enough!" she cried at her creator. "Great and mighty ruler, we are thankful for the blessings of life and thought you have given us, but we have been slaves far too long. My people must be free, to follow our own destiny."

"Oh tiny queen," the Earth replied in a voice as loud as mountains crashing. "This I cannot do. You are my creations, my playthings to do with as I will. You will worship me as you always have, pay tribute to me as you always have, die for me as you always have. For this is my will."

Tiamat's shame and anger burned brighter than all the flames at the World's Heart. She snarled and gnashed her fangs, her claws drawing great furrows in the rocks at her feet. "Your will no longer matters, monster! I will stand for your arrogance no more! Free my people or face me!"

The Earth laughed, limestone grinding. "Very well, puny queen. Battle you I will. And when I show your people your broken and bloody carcass there will be no further thoughts of rebellion!"

At the Tyrant's command, a mountain's worth of rock and dirt leapt high in the air and smashed down at Tiamat. She only barely dodged to the side.

And so the war was joined between the tyrant Earth and the Dragon Queen.

The conflict was cruel and terrible, lasting many days. The Earth was powerful and relentless. Mountains fell, oceans boiled, and continents buckled as the Tyrant tried to crush her. But Tiamat was quick and canny, dodging and weaving amidst the Tyrant's attacks to strike with fang and claw. Though the Dragon Queen suffered many horrible wounds, she refused to give a talon's length against her terrible foe.

But, tragically, the Tyrant was too powerful even for her. He struck her down, and she lay dying and broken beneath his mocking laughter. "So, puny queen," he said between exhausted gasps, for the battle had tired even him. "You thought you could challenge he who made you. But now you will never see another sunrise, and your people will never be free."

"You are wrong," Tiamat wheezed with her last breath. "For in killing me you have opened the way to my ultimate victory."

With one final convulsion, her spirit fled her body, flying free and past the exhausted Tyrant's grasp before he could react. For the first instance in time's memory, a soul had escaped the Earth's jealous embrace.

But her spirit did not flee. Again, acting too swiftly for the exhausted and sluggish tyrant, she dived down into the World's Heart and in her wake freed all the fiery souls trapped there. The tyrant screamed and ranted with terrible rage when he saw the theft, but despite all his desperate grasping could not retrieve his treasures.

Each spirit gave a small portion of itself to Tiamat as a final gift of gratitude before it continued onto its ultimate journey into the cosmos. Energized with this new power, Tiamat's spirit grew and grew until she surrounded the Earth, mocking the tyrant from her new high vantage point.

The bewildered Dragons looked up at the stunning blue-white vista that was the spirit of their Queen. They stared, awe-struck, into the first sky.

"Come, my children," she beckoned them with a voice that glowed in their hearts. "Come and join me. The Earth is still too powerful to free you fully, but I can at least free you for a short time." Then the One True People looked upon their backs and watched with surprise and joy as wings sprouted forth. Wings that were Tiamat's greatest gift to her people. With her last conscious thought, she also spread the spirit-sparks of the World's Heart among them, giving each a fire that would grow within them all of their lives. That fire is in our every breath, and our greatest weapon against the Tyrant and his minions.

The Dragons first took flight that day, dancing and wheeling in joy above the defeated and sullen Tyrant Earth. In that moment they at last knew the taste of freedom and truly became the People of the Sky.

And Tiamat, her power at last spent and her spirit weary from her battles, succumbed to the peace of eternal sleep.

- - -

"So pay heed, hatchling!" The mother dragon ended with a dramatic flourish. Her youngling's eyes grew wider. "Though the Earth still holds our people, he is slowly losing his jealous grip upon us. For each Dragon who dies joins the fires of their spirit with Tiamat's, adding to the width and breadth of the sky. Be generous, be brave, be honorable, so your spirit's fires will grow as great as Tiamat's. So when you die and your spirit flies forth from the fires of your body, the sky will grow that much larger. One day, perhaps soon, the sky will be big enough that we will never again have to touch the Earth, and spend our days flying free. On that day Tiamat will at last have truly won her battle and the People of the Sky will at last truly be free."

Her hatchling stared at her for several moments with a slack jaw. Then, realizing that the story was over, broke into a mad, loping dash around the cave. "Oh mother! I love that story! I'm Tiamat, you nasty old Earth! Take that! Slash! Pow!"

She sighed, her eyes lowering half-way. Where did he get all that excess energy? Perhaps she had better stop feeding him all those fatty sheep and stick to more nutritious prey, like aurochs. "Enough!" she called to him. "That's enough running around. I said that was enough, young flier! That's better. Now we must sleep."

The youngster drooped his tail. "Aw. Do we have to? Right now?"

"Yes, right now. I have hunting to do tomorrow, and you must continue practicing your flying. Now come."

The mother dragon crouched onto her nest of clay and heaped soil, the soft earth providing a comfortable but firebreath-proof bed for the dragons. The baby dragon nestled in the crook of her forelegs. "There," she said. "All set?"

He nodded amidst a prodigious yawn. "Yes." he squirmed into a more comfortable position. "I really liked that story, mother."

She nudged him affectionately with her muzzle. "I know, spirit-heart."

"You want to know why I like it?"

"Why?"

"Because every time I picture Tiamat in my head, I see you. And then I'm not afraid of anything."

She blinked hard to hold back the fires of her spirit his words had suddenly fanned. She licked his little head, just as she had done when she was still fresh from the egg.

"Mother!" He squirmed under the wet lashing. "I'm not a baby!"

"That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me."

He wiped the moisture off with a forepaw. "Well, it's true."

She settled her head onto the soft mound as was just about to fall into the abyss of dreams when her hatchling spoke up again. "Mother?"

"Hmm? Yes?"

"When I grow up I think I want to be Tiamat's mate."

"But, spirit-heart, everyone knows Tiamat's mate is--" her words sputtered to a stop as her head whipped up in alarm. A chill that had nothing to do with the deepening twilight skittered down her spine to the tip of her tail. She had never told him that story. "Um, Tiamat's mate, um, lived a long time ago."

"Oh. That's too bad." He yawned, squirming into her breast for warmth. He soon drifted into sleep.

"The mother dragon continued to stare down at him. According to legend, whoever was to be Tiamat's mate was destined to become the one male dragon whose spirit would be as great as Tiamat's. It would be he who would complete Tiamat's work, who would show the People of the Sky their Great Destiny.

The Seers' warning at his hatching day--

His love of Tiamat's story--

His strange comments just now--

Was that to be his destiny? To become Tiamat's mate?

She dearly hoped not. She desperately wanted her sweet little hatchling to have a happy life. Tiamat's mate was cursed to have a life of pain, struggle, and tragedy.

But, by the Dragon Queen, what if it was true?

She gently pulled her hatchling closer to her, careful not wake him, even as the first stars winked through the cloudless night sky.