(WIP) Chaos Merging

A fortnight or more the parents had waited, staring over their precious egg for it to hatch. Always kept warm by the scorching temperatures of infant’s creators, there was little doubt that this egg would survive. At last one day came, the sun was shining and the air was crisp as any autumn should be. A crack appeared on the infantile item, growing till the mottled surface literally shattered, revealing a single hatchling within. Golden scales and white hair to outmatch any new-fallen snow, Asiil was born.

The years went by as they always did and the hatchling grew, a drake form first acquired. There was something special about this little dragon, something very unique and unrelenting, for Asiil was a song dragon, one of a dieing breed. Not quite her full height at this point, the young ness (now around one hundred years) learned her greatest trade, archery. Through much patience and hard work the short fatale became a renowned archer in her draconic realm. There was little doubt here as well that she would go far. And very far she would go indeed. As the ness neared her half century mark, now fully grown but not matured nor having taken on the necessary duties she was born for, Asiil was taken to the mountain of the gods and placed upon the altar like a sacrifice. Fear and expectancy tore through the youngling as she peered up into the churning atmosphere above. This was it. This was what she had been born to do. Her destiny had finally arrived. As the clouds parted, a looming golden figure, easily outshining the shimmering gold dragoness, emerged and came down to her level. There the being would stand, seemingly studying the younger one before finally speaking, a booming voice resounding from unseen lips. "Asiil" it began "You have been chosen to be the messenger of us Gods. You who were born unto our most prized dragons and given the name of Hope, it is your duty as such to rise with us and do as such is asked of you. Now, bow your head young dragon, and accept the markings of the gods" with that, the entity stretched forth a long fingered hand to the young one and set it upon the spiraling horns which so adorned her maned skull. In moments, a pair of figures appeared from his fingertips to entwine about the youthful deities horns. : A dragon of crimson and black, and a roaring phoenix of fire and ash. They were the primary symbols of the two great gods of that land. : The mighty Drauch'thein and the wondrous goddess Seinoo. As the pulsating auras of these tattoos fell to the ashen horns, drake-ling allowed ember eyes to close, the glossy lids masking luminescent hues. Then it was over. She had been marked by the gods themselves as the messenger and now her destiny was to be fulfilled.

Yet not for long was it to last...

The dragons many jobs went well, traversing between the wondrous heavens and the mortal laden earth. Amongst Furre and feral and human alike she went, delivering her letters to each in turn. But one fateful day arose. The gods gave her one final message and she returned to Earth one last time. Through the crowds the golden one went, the massive ironwood bow protruding over her silver caped shoulders with the eagle feathered arrows residing next to it. Her silvery talons clicked lightly upon the terra and sinewy tail of white fur tipping swayed sardonically behind her. "Odd to be so crowded this day" she muttered to herself. It was the dragons two thousandth hatch-day that morn and her mood was light, yet the bunched up streets, so packed with Man and Furre alike was bothersome. It was slowing her job down considerably. At last she managed to reach the house her delivery was meant for and through the door the Messenger strode. Her now nine foot high frame slinked into the open doorway and halted in what would have been the kitchen of the dwelling. Inside, though, she was met with a different look to meet her ember eyes.

Blood was stretched across the room, covering the walls to no end. Bodies lay strewn over the flooring and in the midst a child stood, no taller than her calf, with a glowing orb hanging above his head. The orb pulsed black and sinister before suddenly diving back through the boy, straight through his chest and into his heart. Asiil canted head in bewilderment, but no sooner had she done this than the boy collapsed amidst the other dead lying around. Dragon jumped some as the boy fell, her own tremendous form leaping forward to catch him in her arms just as blood suddenly sprayed from his mouth and ears and every pore upon his now limp body. Silvery tears leapt into the femme’s eyes as she held the most assuredly dead child, cradling him close to her frame. Just then, the door banged open and in strode a tall lupine male, broad of shoulders and black of pelt. In his hands was a great axe which he bore leadenly over his shoulders. Maw hung open as he peered at surroundings, shocked to see such disarray in what must have been his dwelling place. Dragon looked from him to the boy now limp in her arms, herself covered in his own blood, before turning visionaries back upon the sire above. Crania shook wildly, ashen tresses flying side to side against her sinewy neck. "No, sir, no, you misunderstand" she hurriedly spoke, trying to fix the situation before it could be assumed. But it was too late; the Furres mind was made up and Asiil could do nothing to change it.

Man charged forward, the axe swinging forward for her head. Arms of dragon dropped the boy quickly as she stumbled back and away from the coming brute and his weapon. Jaws snapped up and back, her narrowly escaping the coming assault and managing to just attain a small nick over throat. That was just too close for comfort. The man assaulted once again, swinging the axe at her trying to flee form, this time managing a slice down her face and ashen blood spilling from the injury like waterworks. It was then that she reacted, a sharp wave of energy leaping from mind at him while eyes were pulled shut. The wave was in the form of daggers, aimed to pierce his mind and cease the attack he pursued. But just as quickly as she managed this assault, more were in the building and charging her. Wings instinctively wrapped around her, the fifteen foot spanned parts acting as a perfect shield against their pounding fists. But the multitudes of beings were able to lift her from the ground and haul her from the building. A quick peek out and to the group which so hauled her away. Amongst them, she spied other dragons, their heads hanging in respect at her retreating form. All of kin new who she was and what she did. That much was certain. And to see such grievances occurring was a major negativity for the kindred.....To the city Mount they carried her, up the hill and to its peak. And once there, they carried her even higher, to the top of the fortress where a great pole was set. Like the tower of Babylon it seemed, poking to the watching heavens, her home. Onto the edifice she was placed, form reeling in an instant. Wings snapped out and she aimed to kick from the terrace and into the air to escape this onslaught. But she couldn't manage the escape; wings were grabbed and she was thrown to the ground, tattooed horns digging achingly to the azure. So this was it.....all because of a misunderstanding she was to die....Her fall from heaven as the hands began binding her up and mounting her to the pointing post.

To Be Continued....