RangerWickett
Legend
The Flameset Dragon and The Stormchaser Eagle
Two of the primordial elemental forces, their hunt and chase of each other created the sun and the moon, storms, lightning, thunder, and fire.
For the Dragon, the water’s Kraken was bane, impossible to reach and fight. The Worm of the earth was too simple a foe, completely blind and unable to fight back, too slow to flee. So it fought the Eagle of sky and wind, swift and nimble, soft and hard to grasp.
For the Eagle, both sea and stone proved no sport, barely able to give chase. The Worm was too hard-mantled to be hurt, too lumbering to give chase, too dim to ever be a challenge. The Kraken was trapped in the depths, and was like grass under the wind, always moving, but never damaged. So the Eagle provoked the Dragon of blaze and quickfire, long and sinuous, trailing flame from its whipping tail, its heat able to sear the Eagle’s wings and to bear the Dragon aloft to give chase.
Legend says they flew in chase and pursuit before mankind was born, spanning the world eight times. The Eagle always evaded the Dragon, dancing higher into the clouds than the Dragon’s heat could carry it. But one long day, in a land where the sun’s warmth did not fade, the Dragon’s wile overcame its hunger, and it let the Eagle alone for a day. When the Eagle looked for the Dragon, to see why it would not give chase, it found the serpent sleeping in a molten canyon rift.
The Eagle questioned the Dragon from the clouds above, “Why do you not chase me today? Have our eight flights around the world tired you? I see that you sleep. Perhaps you’re not the challenge I thought you were.”
“You do not know your head from my tail,” the Dragon laughed. “In my chases, I have nipped at you, seared your wingtips, and scalded your belly even when you tried to trick me into the ocean. But never has the opposite been true. I grow bored.”
The Eagle dived under a low anvil cloud to hear better. “What do you mean? I have seen you hungering for a bite of my thigh, a lick of my breast. You have not yet won.” And with that, the Eagle began to wheel away, until it heard the Dragon’s laugh.
“You are not worth pursuit. Where are the wounds on my scales from your talons’ rake? Where do my eyes scar from your bite? I could sooner create warriors to hunt me than expect a challenge from you.” (And this was the Dragon’s only mistake, because with that sentence, it gave the gods the idea to create men, who even to this day do hunt for Dragons.)
The Eagle spun in the air in dismay. “I am not made to fight. My wings are fragile, my tail for swiftness, not made to crush life from prey, or to crack the air with a whiplash.”
The Dragon said, “And that is why I will sleep here until something worth hunting arives. Perhaps the Kraken will play with you, child.”
The Eagle crackeled with thunder in anger. “I am no child! I have claws, and a beak as sharp as the Southern Wind! Lightning strikes at my call, and gales will tear down mountains at my command!”
Finally, the Dragon raised its head, looking at the raging storm surrounding the Eagle. The Dragon lowered its gaze in a shrug. “Yet you still have not harmed me.”
With a cry of challenge, the Eagle sent down a stroke of lightning, striking the Dragon’s left arm and spraying magma to the wind. Roaring in pain, the Dragon rose into the air, and the Eagle dove, eager to prove its strength. But the Dragon dodged the Eagle’s claws, and twisted its neck away from the Eagle’s bite. Then the Dragon flew away, carrying its flaming tail close across its own belly. The Eagle gave chase.
Swifter than the Dragon, the Eagle caught up and tried to attack, but always the Dragon would evade an attack, or shove the Eagle out of reach, then fly on, letting the Stormchaser Eagle give chase. Over and again, the Eagle would try and fail to strike a blow upon the Dragon. In its frustration, it shook loose many feathers, which fell across the world as the Eagle tried to wrestle the Dragon.
They crossed the world in the chase, and slowly the Flameset Dragon began to tire, the pain from the Eagle’s first lightning bolt finally having a toll. The Dragon flew back to its lair and dove into a wide tunnel that lead into the earth. The Eagle dove after, sure that the Dragon would soon be too weak to fend it off, but it was only after a long chase deep into the tunnel that it noticed how narrow the tunnel walls were. The Dragon could slither through the passage easily, but the Eagle only barely had enough room to lance its great wings. Afraid of going much deeper, the Eagle gave one last great flap, then pressed its wings to its body and dove for the Dragon.
And it was just then that the Dragon let loose its flaming tail.
Unable to dodge, the Eagle flew into the fire, which seared its eyes and blinded it. Before it could turn to flee, the Dragon had its coils wrapped around the Eagle, squeezing out its life. The Eagle’s screams echoed through the tunnels, and with one swift bite, the Dragon tore out the Aquiline Heart. At the first taste of blood upon its tongue, the Dragon felt a great power tingling through its body, giving it strength. Its flesh began to change, and wings began to grow from its back. The Dragon discarded the dying husk of the Eagle, and dropped the still beating heart protectively in its coils, then began to lick the blood from the walls and floor, every moment feeling itself growing stronger.
Then came the rumbling voice of the Worm. “You have killed the Eagle, and now you grow too strong. I can feel it through my skin, and if you do not leave, I shall bring down stone upon you. This is my realm, and none defy me.”
But the Worm was blind, and with another bite from the heart, the Dragon gained mastery of sound. In the voice of the Eagle it said, “You are mistaken, oh Worm. Our chase simply led us deep into your realm as it never has before. Hear me now, I am well, but if you command it, we will leave.”
The Worm was suspicious, but it could still feel two hearts beating, so it moved to let the Eagle and the Dragon pass back up the tunnel. The Dragon lifted the body of the Eagle, and carefully held the Aquiline Heart in its teeth, then started to leave.
But as the Dragon passed, the Worm said, “You must never fight so dangerously. If one of us were to grow too strong, we would have to destroy that threat. Your fight has endangered the balance. Remember that before you fight again.”
The Dragon left quickly without another word, but it knew that despite the great desire it held for the blood and flesh of the Heart, it could not destroy the Heart, or else the Worm would know, and it and the Kraken would destroy the Dragon. So the Dragon, strong now with its new body, swift as the wind and dangerous as flame, buried the Eagle’s body in a land halfway around the world from its lair. Then the Dragon hid the Aquiline Heart near its lair, but in a place even it would not be tempted to feed upon it.
Then, fearful of its remaining companions, the Worm and the Kraken, the Dragon returned to its lair to sleep, content to bask in its new strength and power.
Two of the primordial elemental forces, their hunt and chase of each other created the sun and the moon, storms, lightning, thunder, and fire.
For the Dragon, the water’s Kraken was bane, impossible to reach and fight. The Worm of the earth was too simple a foe, completely blind and unable to fight back, too slow to flee. So it fought the Eagle of sky and wind, swift and nimble, soft and hard to grasp.
For the Eagle, both sea and stone proved no sport, barely able to give chase. The Worm was too hard-mantled to be hurt, too lumbering to give chase, too dim to ever be a challenge. The Kraken was trapped in the depths, and was like grass under the wind, always moving, but never damaged. So the Eagle provoked the Dragon of blaze and quickfire, long and sinuous, trailing flame from its whipping tail, its heat able to sear the Eagle’s wings and to bear the Dragon aloft to give chase.
Legend says they flew in chase and pursuit before mankind was born, spanning the world eight times. The Eagle always evaded the Dragon, dancing higher into the clouds than the Dragon’s heat could carry it. But one long day, in a land where the sun’s warmth did not fade, the Dragon’s wile overcame its hunger, and it let the Eagle alone for a day. When the Eagle looked for the Dragon, to see why it would not give chase, it found the serpent sleeping in a molten canyon rift.
The Eagle questioned the Dragon from the clouds above, “Why do you not chase me today? Have our eight flights around the world tired you? I see that you sleep. Perhaps you’re not the challenge I thought you were.”
“You do not know your head from my tail,” the Dragon laughed. “In my chases, I have nipped at you, seared your wingtips, and scalded your belly even when you tried to trick me into the ocean. But never has the opposite been true. I grow bored.”
The Eagle dived under a low anvil cloud to hear better. “What do you mean? I have seen you hungering for a bite of my thigh, a lick of my breast. You have not yet won.” And with that, the Eagle began to wheel away, until it heard the Dragon’s laugh.
“You are not worth pursuit. Where are the wounds on my scales from your talons’ rake? Where do my eyes scar from your bite? I could sooner create warriors to hunt me than expect a challenge from you.” (And this was the Dragon’s only mistake, because with that sentence, it gave the gods the idea to create men, who even to this day do hunt for Dragons.)
The Eagle spun in the air in dismay. “I am not made to fight. My wings are fragile, my tail for swiftness, not made to crush life from prey, or to crack the air with a whiplash.”
The Dragon said, “And that is why I will sleep here until something worth hunting arives. Perhaps the Kraken will play with you, child.”
The Eagle crackeled with thunder in anger. “I am no child! I have claws, and a beak as sharp as the Southern Wind! Lightning strikes at my call, and gales will tear down mountains at my command!”
Finally, the Dragon raised its head, looking at the raging storm surrounding the Eagle. The Dragon lowered its gaze in a shrug. “Yet you still have not harmed me.”
With a cry of challenge, the Eagle sent down a stroke of lightning, striking the Dragon’s left arm and spraying magma to the wind. Roaring in pain, the Dragon rose into the air, and the Eagle dove, eager to prove its strength. But the Dragon dodged the Eagle’s claws, and twisted its neck away from the Eagle’s bite. Then the Dragon flew away, carrying its flaming tail close across its own belly. The Eagle gave chase.
Swifter than the Dragon, the Eagle caught up and tried to attack, but always the Dragon would evade an attack, or shove the Eagle out of reach, then fly on, letting the Stormchaser Eagle give chase. Over and again, the Eagle would try and fail to strike a blow upon the Dragon. In its frustration, it shook loose many feathers, which fell across the world as the Eagle tried to wrestle the Dragon.
They crossed the world in the chase, and slowly the Flameset Dragon began to tire, the pain from the Eagle’s first lightning bolt finally having a toll. The Dragon flew back to its lair and dove into a wide tunnel that lead into the earth. The Eagle dove after, sure that the Dragon would soon be too weak to fend it off, but it was only after a long chase deep into the tunnel that it noticed how narrow the tunnel walls were. The Dragon could slither through the passage easily, but the Eagle only barely had enough room to lance its great wings. Afraid of going much deeper, the Eagle gave one last great flap, then pressed its wings to its body and dove for the Dragon.
And it was just then that the Dragon let loose its flaming tail.
Unable to dodge, the Eagle flew into the fire, which seared its eyes and blinded it. Before it could turn to flee, the Dragon had its coils wrapped around the Eagle, squeezing out its life. The Eagle’s screams echoed through the tunnels, and with one swift bite, the Dragon tore out the Aquiline Heart. At the first taste of blood upon its tongue, the Dragon felt a great power tingling through its body, giving it strength. Its flesh began to change, and wings began to grow from its back. The Dragon discarded the dying husk of the Eagle, and dropped the still beating heart protectively in its coils, then began to lick the blood from the walls and floor, every moment feeling itself growing stronger.
Then came the rumbling voice of the Worm. “You have killed the Eagle, and now you grow too strong. I can feel it through my skin, and if you do not leave, I shall bring down stone upon you. This is my realm, and none defy me.”
But the Worm was blind, and with another bite from the heart, the Dragon gained mastery of sound. In the voice of the Eagle it said, “You are mistaken, oh Worm. Our chase simply led us deep into your realm as it never has before. Hear me now, I am well, but if you command it, we will leave.”
The Worm was suspicious, but it could still feel two hearts beating, so it moved to let the Eagle and the Dragon pass back up the tunnel. The Dragon lifted the body of the Eagle, and carefully held the Aquiline Heart in its teeth, then started to leave.
But as the Dragon passed, the Worm said, “You must never fight so dangerously. If one of us were to grow too strong, we would have to destroy that threat. Your fight has endangered the balance. Remember that before you fight again.”
The Dragon left quickly without another word, but it knew that despite the great desire it held for the blood and flesh of the Heart, it could not destroy the Heart, or else the Worm would know, and it and the Kraken would destroy the Dragon. So the Dragon, strong now with its new body, swift as the wind and dangerous as flame, buried the Eagle’s body in a land halfway around the world from its lair. Then the Dragon hid the Aquiline Heart near its lair, but in a place even it would not be tempted to feed upon it.
Then, fearful of its remaining companions, the Worm and the Kraken, the Dragon returned to its lair to sleep, content to bask in its new strength and power.
