A story from a time before this.

Det her er faktisk en slags forhistorie til DRL hvordan det har med historien at gøre vil jeg ikke sige.

A story from a time before this.

Time is the cruelest of nature’s inventions, important events of your life, forgotten, lost in the passing of time. Even the great deeds done by heroes of their time are soon thought of as nothing but stories. Then they become legends only to morph into lore, which is soon forgotten by the descendents of those brave people who was called heroes once.

Thousands of years ago, before man had crawled down from the trees, we lived and we fought our never ending war against our own race, this was known as the breeding war. The blood spilled in that war, killed most plant life, only our homes grew bigger for each battle, fueled by our blood. You may wonder what we are, why we fought, if you have seen us. But most of these questions are without meaning, I cannot tell you what we are for you would not understand, I cannot tell you why we fought for you would not be able to comprehend it, but you have seen us. You wonder now when you have seen us, do you not? The truth is that you never knew that you saw us, that you never cared. In a time before this we were known by everyone, but time is the cruelest of nature’s inventions. Alas we are left forgotten, the memory of us removed by the passing time, slowly over the years we became nothing but stories, then we became legends only to morph into lore, and then we were forgotten. My race left this place hundreds of years ago, you have seen my daughter, you have not seen my race. She has not even seen her race, what she know she knew from hatching, what she know she will know till death. I am writing here to tell you a story, a legend, a piece of lore. I am here to tell you a little piece of forgotten history. This is a story from a time before your time, this is a story from a world before your world, this is a story from a race before your race.

It all started only 100 years after the third hatching of the second egg; he was so young back then, yet so powerful. My ancestors knew that he was the one to get, the one to find, the one to drink. I was only 200 years back then and my blood had just started to build up pressure, it signaled what I had been waiting for, my first and last war. My first battle was glorious, everything in my way was cut down merciless and blood rained from the sky where I crossed my enemies. I was cheered on by all I know, some of them later said that no such slaughter had been seen for a thousand years, but then I saw him. He stood there on the highest branch, even from this distance I could see that blood was flowing steadily from a wound in his shoulder. Such arrogance, coming to the battle with like that, a scream of hatred escaped me, and then I saw him take off. That was all I saw before a spear pierce my lung. I saw a smile on his face and a spark in his eye.

“A dry mother with only one breath, the other lost the fifth day of the year 200, will bring forth the third coming of the first egg. Is that not how it is written?” That is what he whispered to me as I fell to the ground; he was gone before I could reply. What would I have replied? What can you reply to a man who knows what no man is to know? I was brought back to my home by my family they praised me for my abilities in battle, I told them nothing of what he had said, looking back I probably should have told them. A hundred years later I had recovered and was made the warrior queen of our people, he gained even more power and became the warrior king of his people. My lung however was still not healed, I was as he said of one breath. But then it happened, the first egg appeared again. I had not had a drop to drink my entire life, I was as the elders said, a dry mother. In a single week they all fled, leaving me and the unhatched first egg. They all knew the prophesy: that the first egg would bring death to the entire race. They fled to the old land, the land that not even the gods know of. We are not one of the 3 races they created; we are older, older than the gods, older than their creation, older than the land. Our race was in danger because of the first egg’s return, that is what they said. Then my people left, leaving me behind to guard and protect the first egg, it was not allowed to live but to destroy it would be even worse. Then his people left following mine, he stayed behind, willingly. I never knew where he went after they left, but I never saw him again.

For 8000 years I lived alone, guarding the egg from the world and the world from the egg. I became older than the oldest of my kind, I saw the 3 races grow intelligent and then I saw the wars ravage the lands. I saw two of the races being forgotten and the third one dominate, only to repeatedly bring its own civilizations to its knees. Needless to say I liked them, they reminded me of my own days as a warrior and I knew that there fleeting lives made them greater than any other race in the art of warfare. They fought with a fury unlike any of the other races; they fought with forces larger than the other races could ever hope to give birth to. But I grew old, and one day I could no longer stop it, the first egg hatched and the faith of my people, and his people was decided, all because of my daughter: the daughter from the third egg.