The Last Dragon Lord

by TheApostate

The Mother of Dragons

‘Civilizations rise, and civilizations ground to dust as a result of our hubris. Rise and fall, fall and rise, such is the dance sempiternal of History.’

-Milkyaton, a popular Hippogriff historian.

‘Mother, a boat is approaching from the south.’

‘I see it.’ The air on the top of Mount Drakonin (also simply known as the Mountain) resonated with the simple reply of the Mother of Dragons. There she would lay in a makeshift stone throne between her periods of long slumber.

‘The young ones are asking if they can play with it. It also seems to be trying to impress you solely with its size,’ added Valyr, a black scale, purple eyes Validir. Second in size only to Cornelia, the Mother of Dragons and Last of the Magna Dracii, the Validir once played the role of what could be equated to an aristocracy for the Drakes, but one more based on size and physical potency rather than what is expected from the general aristocratic attributes of the more civilized parts of the world. Not that they cared for what the Small races thought of them.

‘Let it come, Valyr. Tell the others the Dragon Lord order it to be so.’ There was no emotion in her words; they felt mechanical. Nothing unusual for him.

Valyr added that those who had ventured close had returned with the description of the yet-to-be-known creature. Some depicted it to be a Griffon, while others shared it was an equine of some kind with transparent wings. Cornelia did not care; whatever they were, it would be nice to meet new people. Particularly if they were of the more extravagant type. There was simply nothing happening on her islands that could amuse her. Everything operated smoothly and seamlessly on her isles. And for centuries, if not more, it had been the case.

‘Funny. Are you staying, Valyr?’

‘I need to mediate between Derkoma and Ophis. Again,’ he nearly cursed. ‘Aramunth should go in my instead if you want my opinion.’

‘If she had wanted him, she would have called for Aramunth. Just go.’

He nodded and departed, obeying the last of the Magna Dracii, the final representative of the Great Dragons that once roamed the Earth. For millennia until that point, she ruled her kind with an iron yet benevolent claw; none op­posed her, for none could.

For all she ever knew of her kind – which was next to none – it only left her with sup­posing as them being an evolutionary dead-end. Created for some unknown reason – but most likely war. But the Dragon Lord cared little for her once-glorious species’ reason to be. They were said to reproduce little and possessed a lifespan far exceeding all extant creatures on Earth. Even the already quite old Validir shied in comparison to Cornelia’s age. It was said that the first of her strain lived for a millennium, but he was long dead by the time she came into being as her mother’s only child – a newborn never seen in centuries. And the last one at that.

All her life, she had only known of her mother, with some vague, almost lost memories, of some third silhouette standing next to the fleeting visage of who she thought was still her mother. Or maybe it was her mind playing games to torment her what pass as a vain effort for entertainment. Maybe. Regardless, Cornelia outlived her progenitor – she outlived everyone. Their names even sounded more and more fake as time passed. Cornelia was unsure if she had anyone that kept her company. In truth, she had begun to doubt even if others like her she had ever existed.

Typically no ship or individuals would dare venture toward her realm in fear of the very beings that inhabit it. If they would, it would mean to meet her or discover the last Magna Dracii on their own accord if they were of the more adventurous type. While in her earlier years, she would have forced the latter out for disturbing her peace, she grew to yearn for new experiences like these. And only in her domain would she be able to witness anything remotely different and exciting; she was too much of a force of nature to effectively act on her wish without provoking unintended destruction.

For those somehow unaware of where they landed or not knowing where she slept, Cornelia would let them venture inland and enter her cavern. She would be amused upon seeing the small ones wonder at the sight of her frame. If she felt like it and saw enough courage in the intruders, Cornelia would ensue a conversation with them. In the case they remained, they would have found a monarch wary of her position. And behind her pristine white scales, unblemished from the passing centuries, keeping her seemingly forever young, was a girl longing for whatever would pass as company. Her subjects, and even those she called close advisors, kept a fair distance from the Dragon Lord. Terrified they were to anger Cornelia when she endlessly repeated just desiring a group to entertain her in the ever trickling down eternity of her existence. And even when they tried to forge closer ties with their Mother, she could not help but to feel they were mimicking empathy toward her.

While the intruders feared she may wish to keep them on her island, Cornelia would permit them the freedom to depart whenever they so desired but demanded that they come back and visit, forgetting the different way they perceived time and traveled.

Only one of all the visitors she met had returned to once more converse with her. But he had come back old and barely the Hippogriff she remembered him being. He had brought with him his family and enough resources to last them days. They conversed with her without going deaf through a barrier generated with crystals that dampened considerably the echo she exuded. He told her of the goings-on in his little part of the world, a part she dearly desired to visit following their conversation. She had only her imagination to take her there, forging a cosmopolitan world of cities and green landscapes, inhabited by impossible animals and incredible diversity. However, eventually, they had to leave for the last time, leaving her only dreaming of a life she longed for.

The only times Cornelia would get out from her cavern was when her sleeping crystal would require rest and recharging. The sunbathing of her immense body reinvigorated her; she felt the need to spread her wings but the sight of flying drakes in the distance and ships she observed from afar dissuaded any actions on the Dragon Lord part. It had been decades since Cornelia last flew freely. And every time she attempted to take flight, the Mother of Dragons wondered if she still would be able to take to the sky. By hiding in her cavern she could slumber for months with no disruption or impediment to her health. But those long stretches did nothing to prevent her mind from gradually and indivertibly unraveling. There was simply nothing happening.

The Drakes, all-mighty they might be and how much superior they perceived themselves, seldomly envisaged proving their dominance over the other lesser races of the world. Forming empires and great kingdoms beyond their islands would only put them on the same level as the small races. The Griffons offered little in terms of resources or a manageable population – so prone they were to rebel against whoever dared to dictate their own way, even if their rulers were of their own kind. Zebrica was a poor land with little things they cared about. Only Equus would be worthy enough for conquest, but the presence of prodigious mages and the subsequent rise of those Alicorns had put to rest any ambition they might have had. However, the additional existence of the Crystal Empire, which lands would have offered the Drakes a feast beyond measure, was enticing enough for them to attempt any sort of territorial expansion. Equal to what their rich isles could provide but in far, impossibly inscrutably far richer quantities. Not that the distance traveled concerned them, it would take them little time for them to reach the northern plains, but the Drakes feared the Empire.

The Empire existed. When was it founded? Cornelia would have been there but had forgotten about it completely. Even Imperial chroniclers lost the true origins of their realm and the Imperial Family ruling over it in an unbroken line. But the Drakes’ efforts at conquest had been recorded well. One that failed with the entire expedition disappearing or returning with tales of impaled kin and plains littered with the corpses of the fallen. Her sister in spirit, the Validir Sunflame, was the one that insisted on leading the attack against the Crystal Empire. Like most, she was never heard of again in the aftermath, leaving Cornelia alone. At least, it was what her fragmented memory was conveying and what she had been telling to the young ones.

She would tell them that while others demanded to avenge the death of Sunflame, she elected to leave the matter to rest and not pursue it. She would convey it little, but at times she let slip that the loneliness was getting more straining and unbearable. An admission Valyr had heard and vowed not to let be divulged.

They had known of the Empire for a time before – that she was sure. But it felt bizarre for her how it had never been conquered before. And then the flashes of a giant serpentine, mongrel thing sporting a maddened expression, speaking prosaically and in a way that had fascinated as much as it had revolted her, coursed her mind. The presence of Discord as arch-master of Equestria had not shown the most attractive auspices for an attack. The Meister of Chaos Absolute rose to rule this land during the dying days of the Great Chaos – when the once inviolable cycle of the Sun and Moon were broken for what felt like an entire age of the world. During that preferably forgotten chaotic period, the Drakes had slept through most of the incessant random back and for of the astral bodies. The Sun would rise little, while the Moon would remain in the sky for longer, cooling the Drakes and rendering their movements sluggish. And the complete opposite would also occur, nearly burning them through exposure alone.

Cornelia, in what she thought was a twisted trick of fate, seemed to have inherited all of the best attributes of her race – as far as she knew it to be true. Not only was she as tall as the highest peaks of her domain. Her eyes were described as possessing twice the diameter of Celestia’s height and colored in a gentle blue said to fill the creatures she fixated with a mixture of both tranquil and dread. Her claws were able to render any surface to smithereens with barely any effort. And her fiery breath was described capable of melting entire mountain ranges with ease – or had it been just a dream of hers? It had been centuries since she last unleashed it upon the world. Even though, compared to the power displayed by the Chaos Lord, she would have been barely an inconvenience to him.

Fortunately to her, he had remained in Equestria for a reason unknown. Some postulated as it was due to the magical potential of the land, while others affirmed it was just what he first set his gaze upon when he had awoken from whatever infernal ritual that brought him into being. Or it was because he liked the strawberry found in the expansive forests of Equestria. Cornelia liked to think it was to taunt her into a foolish move to toy with her.

When the Alicorn Sisters rose in Equestria and the Cycle’s restoration that followed, Cornelia sent some of her own to ascertain the meaning behind such a turn of fate. The Princesses, later on, returned the gesture to the Drakes. Some years later, Celestia would be the first of the two to meet with the Dragon Lord in one of her first forays in non-Equusian diplomacy. While the proceedings went on with no animosity, Cornelia could not help but perceive who she called “the Equestrian Monarch” in a bad light. Behind the veneer of a calm, almost disgustingly beatific visage, the smell of deceit reeked ever so slightly perceivably from her. Celestia’s presence alone inspired Cornelia with little confidence in the truth of her words. She acted more like the isolated Ophis. And he was not the most beloved of the select group that were the Validir. However, Luna, in a later visit she undertook on her own accord, had proven to be more of Cornelia’s liking. Luna addressed her more directly. Expressing behind a thin veil of sarcasm, which her sister had kept buried under her honeyed words, of keeping a vigilant eye on the Dragon Lord. And Cornelia could not blame them for thinking so. At least Luna was more sincere on that front. A first impression that Cornelia had offered to replicate in a future meet up; which Luna had accepted. Though her visits were spaced out in time, both rulers developed a close bond.

The visitor landed, and behind it, a congregation of hooded individuals followed in unison. Her children left the beach alone, gathering in the rocky hills and the recesses of the Eye to spy on those rare visitors.

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[Mr_T_Man]

Story telling at its finest