The Dragons Color

In another time, in another place, there was peace. Birds sang songs of good fortune and fish guided the sailors over rough seas. The wolves guarded their land with keen and watchful eyes while eagles soared gracefully overhead. The world was calm, the animals were quiet, and there was peace.

But no times of happiness last forever, danger and hate always lurks just out of sight, cloaked by dark shadows. The world will always meet its fate.

On one storming evening all the animals kept safely to their dens, huddled together for warmth. The fish swam deeply under the waves as white crests rose higher and higher into the sky, threatening to touch the clouds. Rain hammered down onto the sodden forest floor, it was a force to be reckoned with. Lightning lit up the shaded night sky in flashes. The burning light illuminated the glowing eyes of the dragons.

Riding the waves and moving quickly through the skies came the giant beasts, the winged creatures with shimmering scales and breath of flames. Their eyes held deep secrets, pools of wisdom, misfortune, and greed.

A great crack of thunder sounded as the first dragon landed in the valley, all of the animals burrowed deeper into their dens. Their fear scent wafted up into the air like a cloud, an almost tangible thing.

The dragons touched down gracefully and quickly, their talons digging into the soft earth. The leading dragon, a giant creature, smiled cruelly at the dripping forest before him.

Muscles rippled beneath his midnight colored scales; his mouth burned with hot embers as he opened his jaws wide and set the forest ablaze. Torrents of flames shot out of his gaping mouth and turned the peaceful forest into a raging inferno.

"This land," the lead dragon proclaimed viciously, "is our land now!"

The dragons let out deafening cheers and stamped the ground with heavy feet as green leaves shriveled and smoldered under the heat of the licking flames. The bright glow of the fire could be seen from miles away. The fire could be seen all the way from the rural lands of Utopia.

Utopia was a small kingdom of country folk and farmers. The castle sprung right of the mountain side in columns of ivory and stone. Towers of marble jutted out of peaks, warding off intruders. The kingdom may have been small, but they had an army of a thousand men. They weren't protecting their fragile lands from the peaceful animals with an army that size. No, they were protecting it from the dragons.

The new colony of dragons had quickly burnt the farmer's crops and laid siege to the lands of Utopia. The king locked himself away in his palace, safe from harm of the dragons. The villagers banded together to protect themselves. And the army set out to rid the worlds of the dragon infestation.

Soldiers clad in steel armor wielded hefty swords of iron, but they were no match from the massive dragons. One by one the soldiers fell, eaten or burned alive for threatening the dragons. The king decided he could no longer hide away. He himself proclaimed that he would save Utopia from the dragons, or die trying. He challenged the lead dragon, a creature named Mionaetti to a duel. The winner would take the Utopian lands, and the defeated would perish while their followers would flee and never return.

The king had a suit of golden armor hand crafted by master black smiths. He decorated his silver sword with jade beads for luck and diamonds for strength. Then he met Mionaetti on the battle field.

Mionaetti observed the king with devilish eyes of amber. The king shook with tremors of fear. The entire kingdom of Utopia watched from the sidelines, while the dragon colony observed from perching it giant pine trees.

The Utopian king let out a sudden cry of rage and surged forward, slashing at Mionaetti with his blade. The dragon let out hisses of pain and blew flames at the king. The king swiftly maneuvered away from the fire breath and drove his sword into the dragon's side. Mionaetti let out a wail of agony so loud it shook the earth. Then the midnight colored dragon rose to its full height as sent its giant claws crashing down onto the king. With a victorious cry the dragon revealed the mangled and bleeding body of the king. Mionaetti had won.

The kingdom of Utopia was in dismay, they had lost. They would have to leave. But they broke the deal they had struck with the dragons and held their ground even though their king had fallen. The villagers formulated a plan to wipe out the dragons once and for all. They locked themselves away in the palace and scent messengers out to enlist the help of neighboring kingdoms to slay the dragons.

Seven armies of seven kingdoms banded together to wipe out the flying beasts. A new era had been born, an era of war, and era without dragons.

Litlaus was nearly a year old. His first breaths had been taken in the shelter of a mountain cave, and he feared his last breaths would be taken in the same place. His family had been in hiding for many years before he was born. They hid for fear of being found by the seven armies. If they were found they would be killed on sight. They were dragons; there by they had already been marked for death.

The young dragon Litlaus slept fitfully that night, plagued by dreams of the dragon war, nightmares of human swords killing him flashed through his mind.

If he was killed his head would be cut off and paraded around the Utopian city for all to see, humans would cheer for the armies' success in killing another beast.

Is it we who are the beasts, when you are the ones who broke your promise to leave if you lost the duel? Litlaus thought ruefully.

The sound of footsteps outside of the narrow cave awoke Litlaus with a start; the small dragon cowered in a corner of the cave, his eyes wide with terror. Suddenly hundreds of humans poured into the lair with raised maces and spears. Litlauses family woke to a full scale attack. Their cries of pain buffeted Litlauses ears as swords were driven into their scaled hearts one by one. The dragon somehow managed to scramble free of the cave and take to flight, arrows were shot at him from below but he soared to high for their reach. His heart pounded in his chest.

Dead, they're all dead. My family is gone. He though dully. They never even got to see my color…

When a dragon received their color it was a time of great celebrations. All dragons were born clear, like glass, after they had lived for some time their color would come. Their color would decide their life for them. A dragons color means everything to it, what it eats, where it lives, how it lives.

And Litlauses family would never get to see their sons color.

When Litlaus finally grew tired to fly any more he lowered to the ground and slept in a tree with his clear wings wrapped around his body to shield him from the wind.

When his eyes opened he was blinded with dawn light. He stretched his jaws wide in a yawn and jumped from the tree, landing with a thud on the ground. He cursed himself for being so loud. There could have been humans around.

Litlaus then began scouring the land for any sign of meat, his belly rumbled with hunger. And a hungry dragon couldn't make fire. Litlaus suddenly emerged from the forest and stumbled upon a farmers pasture. Sheep grazed lazily in the early morning, Litlaus licked his lips. He decided it was worth the risk of being seen by a human to go and grab a sheep quickly.

He slunk into the tall grasses and approached the sheep, but he stepped on a stick which snapped with a loud crack. The sheep glanced around in fear and let out warning cries. Litlaus grew cocky and continued his pursuit of the prey even though attention had been called his way.

Litlaus was about to strike a stray lamb when a farmer jumped towards him out of nowhere. Litlaus stumbled backwards and the farmer took this opportunity of distraction to slash Litlauses eyes with a rake. Blood pooled into the dragons eyes, forever blinding him. He managed to evade the farmer by flying away, sightlessly into the clouds.

He landed far away with a crash, unsure of how close to the ground he was. Then he realized with a sickening feeling that he would never see what his color would be. He would never know who he was.

Litlaus sat down on the ground and cried angrily, not even caring if any humans heard.

Let them come, let them kill me. I have nothing left to live for anyways. He thought to himself, a wave of self-pity washed over him and he wrapped his wings around his body to prepare for sleep.

Over time Litlaus grew accustomed to his blindness and he function perfectly well without sight. He adapted to only using his other four senses to guide him. But he still never knew what his color was.

One day he was traveling through the arctic when he happened upon a snow fox. Litlaus prepared to devour the small creature when the fox yipped, "you don't want to eat me."

Curiosity clouded Litlauses sense of judgment, instead of simply eating the fox he asked, "why?"

"Because I'm a snow fox," the fox chirped with a hint of obviousness to his voice. When Litlaus clearly didn't understand the significance of this comment the fox further explained.

"And you are a red dragon."

Without another word Litlaus took to the air and flew away, excitement and happiness overwhelmed him. He was so ecstatic that he shouted out to all that could hear, "I'm a red dragon!"

He knew his color at last; he knew his purpose in life. Litlaus quickly found his way to a volcano, the habitat of a red dragon. There he stole gold from and spent his days eating the birds that flew overhead. All seemed well in the world, until a passing eagle explained that he was actually a blue dragon. Without another though Litlaus flew to the sea and swam in the oceans murky depths. He ate fish and terrorized fishermen.

But one day a seal told him he was a green dragon.

Litlaus returned to land and ate deer while living in the concealment of greenery's. His nest was made of moss and lichens; he was content as a green dragon. But his happiness was once again cut short when a forest hare told him he was in fact a purple dragon.

Litlaus lived like a purple dragon for some time before being named an orange dragon, and then a yellow dragon, and then brown dragon, and so on. He was named every color of the rainbow at least a hundred times. At some point Litlaus realized he couldn't trust anyone's word, he knew he would never really know what his color was. He would never know where he belonged.

Then he began to think, who was to say who he was? What color should decide where he lived? He had been perfectly fine living as many different colors. He didn't need one specific life style to live by. He could belong anywhere and everywhere.

It was then that Litlaus realized it was not the color that decided the dragon, but the dragon that decided its color. And of all the animals he had encountered along the way, where the ones who were truly blind.