I’m currently writing a book, and I’m thinking of calling it Fire-Breathers
Lemme know if you like it!
I do have a pilot chapter of the book. I’ll probably use it as a prologue, though.
Here’s the chapter. Lemme know if you like it!
Fire-Breathers Pilot Story
At the beginning, there were two minds.
These two minds had drifted endlessly for eons, repeating the same interaction again, and again.
The first mind was easily exciteable, with much to say and not enough to listen to. It was very expecting, and could drone on for hours about whatever it wished.
The second mind was sad, an introvert who wished only to stay away from the first mind. It never wanted to talk or listen, just… exist. Sometimes that was a pain, too.
Eventually, the first mind finally pushed the other over the line.
“I wish it would stop talking to me!” The second mind complained to the empty void, after running away again. “If only I could get it to leave me alone for once!”
The second mind grumbled for a few hours, when it finally hit their thoughts.
“What if there were others for it to speak to?” It wondered. “What if I created two extroverted minds for it to bother instead of me?”
That had been the first ever idea. A selfish one, maybe. But the first one indeed.
In an hour, the second mind had located the first, and pitched the idea, with a false cover of the original intentions, of course.
“Hey, what if there were more of us?” It offered. “More would be cool, and then we could do a lot more!”
“Hey, you’re right!” The first mind exclaimed. “I bet we could make them with our thoughts right now!”
The two minds thought with all their might, creating two perfect minds to accompany their own.
One of the minds was cheery and not all that bright. It also didn’t have very good ideas of its own. It liked to copy the other of their pair.
The second of the pair was quiet, but not as quiet as the second mind. It often had very smart observations, and great ideas. It was emotionless, and brilliant.
For a few eons, they were all happy; the first mind was happy chatting with the two new minds, while the second mind was happy being left alone.
One fateful period of time, the two new minds got bored. Really bored. The more introverted of the new minds had a smart idea, that the more extroverted quite liked.
“A place.” It offered. “Somewhere we can exist, and see each other and other stuff.”
“I love it!” The extroverted mind cheered.
Together, the two of them created a planet. One full of water and earth and skies. The two minds called the planet Verlas, and they floated down to admire their creation.
With all the new land, the minds wanted to see each other, and explore.
The introverted mind made an entirely new creature; a godly vessel, with leathery, veined wings to fly through the air. With claws to hold and scales to protect. With eyes to see and examine. It was called the Dragomorph.
The mind introduced it to the extroverted mind, who tried to steal the idea.
The extroverted mind took the vessel and made it their own; a muscular, crimson Dragomorph with large yellow glowing wings. His amber eyes sparkled with curiosity, glory and triumph. On his tail crackled a vibrant flame. It called him Phoebeos.
This made the introverted mind mad. It countered with its own god.
Artemn was a large, glamorous Dragomorph with handsome eyes and delicate yet sharp hooked claws. His wings sparkled with stars. His scales were dark purple, with amethyst jewels embedded every here and there. His eyes glowed neon green, with calculating intensity. His pearly white teeth were long, and his forked blue tongue shaped only the cleverest of words. Webs filled the space in between his claws, allowing quicker swimming, and gills of immense strength lined his long neck. A mane of beautiful blues, yellows and white erupted from his neck like fire. He was perfect.
This led the two gods to argue for centuries, distracting each other with the hidden quirks of their new forms.
Meanwhile, the original pair had quickly found out about the new creation the two had made. Secretly, both were jealous. They floated down and made their own vessels.
The first mind became Yuvi. She was strong, beautiful (in a loud way) with her elegant form, vibrant and vivid scales, and glowing horns. She glittered immensely, and her wings sparkled of reds and blues. Her silver eyes were never less than warm.
The second mind became Ophelia. She was lanky, with dark blue scales that faded to light turquoise, then green, and then back again in reverse. Her heterochromic eyes glittered dark teal and platinum grey. She had two twin sets of wings; a pair of leathery teal wings and a set of feathered teal wings. She flew with stunning grace, and her long, curly horns became the home to hanging and entwining hydrangeas, blue roses, valley lilies, azaleas and tulips. She adored flowers, especially ones that seemed sad or depressing. A large tuft of blue fur adorned her long, perfect tail.
Almost as soon as they had reveled in their new forms, the two goddesses had discovered the quarrel between Phoebeos and Artemn. They barged in on one of the two gods’ most heated arguments.
“What seems to be the problem?” Ophelia asked, flaring her wings to get their attention.
“Phoebeos stole my creation!” Artemn snarled angrily.
“Nuh uh!” Phoebeos objected. “Artemn copied ME.”
“Please, calm down.” Yuvi put a talon to her chest, right above her heart. “Phoebeos stole almost all your ideas before; what’s different now?”
“The Dragomorph is the most brilliant idea of mine yet!” Artemn roared bitterly. “It’s mine! You can’t have it!”
“You’re doing this wrong.” Ophelia muttered under her breath, then spoke up to the two gods. “There’s a consensus. There always is.”
“What’s a consensus?” Phoebeos tilted his head.
“A consensus is an agreement or middle ground between all sides of a disagreement.” Artemn hissed. “It’s such a basic word. How do you not know it?”
Before they could fight again, Ophelia roared pure fury to silence their squabble.
“Here’s the consensus; we split Verlas between you two. One gets the moon, the sky and the water, the other gets the sun and the earth.” Ophelia pulled a large piece of steel, from the earth, shaped like a flat disc. She clawed one side and she held it up to them. “We spin this. Whoever gets their side on top gets first pick.”
They spun the disc, and Artemn got first choice. He chose the Moon, the skies and the water.
“No fair!” Phoebeos whined. “You get three things and I get two!”
“The earth is very big, and has lots to look at.” Ophelia explained.
“But the skies covers the entire planet!” He complained.
“Indeed. But there’s not much to look at, is there?” Ophelia countered.
Phoebeos reluctantly agreed to this consensus, and all four dragons parted ways.
Yuvi became the goddess of happiness, peace, beauty and the future. She built a temple on top of the highest mountain, Yuvilas (named after her).
Ophelia became the goddess of sadness, fear, war, depression, and self-harm. She represents the horror of life and death, and is often on her own. She built a temple in the biggest valley, Ulpher Valley, and within grew the highest quality of all flowers, but especially hydrangeas, blue roses, valley lilies, azaleas and tulips.
Artemn became the god of the Moon, Lunar events, all fluids, slyness, cleverness, brilliance and romance. He built a palace in the warmest ocean, Ulpher Ocean (yes, it’s right next to Ulpher Valley), and he eventually created the Dragon species (including regular Dragons, Wyverns and Wyrms), a weaker, smaller version of Dragomorphs.
Phoebeos became the god of the sun, the earth, triumph, glory, victory, rage, bloodshed, and thievery. He built himself a palace made of the most precious gems and metals and he became a ruthless and malicious war god.
Everything was peaceful for two centuries, until Phoebeos went too far.
He was tired of his two single domains. He was exhausted that everyone else had accomplished something impressive, something that made mortals ooo and ahh.
He was playing with the flame on his tail, bored of being the least popular immortal, when the flame branded an idea into his mind.
It was terrible, but he thought it was brilliant.
He tried to grant his worshippers flaming tails, but he accidentally gave them fire breath, instead. Turns out, it was way more effective.
Phoebus fueled his worshippers with bloodthirst, power-hunger and manifest destiny. He believed he could control the entire planet.
His worshippers attacked the other tribes of worshippers mercilessly, burning villages and even dragons alive. This angered the other immortals.
Their bitterness led them to chain Phoebus to his own throne with a metal that always burned too hot or chilled too cold. His screams of pain filled his palace, driving away his servants and maids.
They believed that not only was Phoebeos to be punished, but his worshippers, too. They were trapped in a lava and acid wasteland on the farthest and most solitary island, Magmalia. They could only suffer on the toxic island, their lungs filled with smoke, unless a dragon from the main continent freed a specific group of them.
As Phoebeos and his worshippers suffered, Yuvi, Ophelia and Artemn’s dragon tribes thrived.
Verlas laid quiet at last.
We merged your topics.
