Truth About Good & Evil

By Terastas
Story Copyright (C) By: Terastas
 2001 - All rights reserved.

Story not to be reprinted, or redistributed, 
without author's Permission.

If you wish to use the stories, or 
anything copyright by me, please e-mail me.
I'll also forward any mail to the author.


It has been said countless times that the fight between good and evil is a never-ending struggle. This is seldom ever the case. In truth, good and evil are immaterial, and can only be used to describe forces in conflict with one another. It is not impossible to determine which is good or evil- it is often a very clear decision, but every force is only temporary. Every empire will eventually crumble, and every hero will eventually be slain. This is a cycle that cannot be prevented. Conflicts between good and evil are resolved constantly. By the time you finish reading this paragraph, at least five such conflicts will already have been fatally resolved.
The conflict between Duraila and Diartigan, however, more closely resembles an infinite struggle than a series of defeats. Duraila, a silver dragon, and Diartigan, a shadow dragon, both have equal intentions for the world at hand, but while Duraila acts as a servant of God, Diartigan hopes to establish himself as one. For him to even begin to claim such, he would need to eliminate all those with power close to rivaling his own. Duraila was, and may still be the only living being known to the world with such power. Conflict was inevitable.
The dragons first met in the city of Pompeii. A vicious test of forces ensued which eventually resulted in the eruption of Vesuvius and the destruction of the metropolis below. After witnessing such pointless sacrifice, the two dragons agreed that they would never again come within a hundred miles of the other, and that all future conflicts would take place between whatever followers they could gather. For the next five hundred years, no step was taken towards victory.

The turning point in the war took place completely by accident. It was daylight, and a devout follower of Diartigan named Yelvin was looking to recruit the aide of another. Yelvin was a wyvern, a creature of extremely low intelligence, but for giving loyalty to Diartigan he had been blessed with a greater mental capacity. He still lacked a proper means of communicating however, but this mattered not since he had little worth saying. His greatest problem was that his wyvern instincts occasionally flared up again, and all he could do to surpass them was to isolate himself until they died down again. This time he was confident in himself, as his instincts usually took over during unpleasant situations, and this had been a very pleasant day.
The people of this world they had chosen were strange indeed. None of them seemed to belong to a specific race, but at the same time they could be separated accordingly and always seemed familiar in one way or another. This particular one could be categorized as feline, and though it had black stripes similar to others Yelvin had seen, its fur was white, contrary to the orange flare he had come to expect. He was alone, a hatchet over his right shoulder, and not a village for miles around. Yelvin couldn't help but think this one man was special. Indeed he needed to become a follower of Diartigan.
Yelvin emerged from the trees behind the tiger, catching his attention easily. The feline turned at the noise, and strangely enough he didn't run. Everyone knew to run for cover when a wyvern appeared, but this one didn't. Yelvin assumed this was because he had approached calmly as opposed to the standard wyvern approach that involved flying atop one's prey screaming at the top of his lungs. No, Yelvin's wings would remain out of use at the time. He didn't want to scare this poor man away.
That didn't seem like it would be the case though. In fact, the young feline took a few steps closer, and seemed to beckon Yelvin come closer (though he did keep his hatchet ready). It might sound strange, but this was actually a common method. These people, as strange and diverse as they were, were all very curious to their surroundings. Whenever something out of the ordinary appeared, they always seemed to want to know more about it. Yelvin had recruited many in the past just by catching their interest and allowing them to follow him back to Diartigan's layer. He did all the talking after all.
Yelvin slowly crept up towards the feline as if he were curious as well. The two both took slow steps towards each other until Yelvin found himself inches away from the feline's face. He lowered his head slightly and pretended to sniff at his shoulders, which the feline blinked at but didn't seem to mind. He eventually dropped his hatchet and petted Yelvin behind the ears with one of his clawed hands.
"Well, its clear you're at least well fed" said the feline, more to himself than to Yelvin. "Quite a story to tell the neighbors back home I will."
Yelvin couldn't hear what the feline was saying. He was too busy enjoying his being scratched behind the ears. This was all very new to him- sure, Diartigan was kind to him, but he'd never been stroked affectionately, at least not the right way. Yelvin played the card perfectly even though he wasn't acting anymore. He cooed softly and nuzzled up against the tiger's chest affectionately. The tiger smiled warmly.
"You like that huh?" He reached up with his other free hand and applied the same massage to the opposite ear. Yelvin chirped with approval and playfully licked the tiger's face.
Big mistake. Though Yelvin meant it to be an act of affection, it also gave him a sample of the feline's taste, and having been so lost in this newly-found friendship, his wyvern instincts took over instantly.
Yelvin was out for the moment, but the wyvern was still in love with this feline's affection, as well as the wonderful taste of his facial features. The feline himself seemed to be a little bothered by being licked, but he still smiled warmly and asked politely that he stop. The wyvern continued on, eventually setting his powerful claws down on the tiger's shoulders, pushing him down to the ground where he landed flat on his back. Only then did the wyvern stop, whimper a little, and slide a talon under the tiger's neck to help him at least sit up. The wyvern whimpered sadly, but the tiger just smiled and petted him gently on the nose.
"Its okay" he said calmly. "I know you didn't mean to." The wyvern cooed, cuddled up against the feline, and gently licked his hand.
It was too much. Yelvin was out of control, and he was enjoying the taste of this unsuspecting feline way too much. Conventional wisdom would have been to bring him back to Diartigan's home where he would undoubtably become a follower, in which case Yelvin could lick and cuddle and be scratched behind the ears for many future occasions, but Yelvin was currently in a daydream, and the wyvern only had instincts.
He could see everything how it would work clearly. Yelvin gently stroked the tiger's shoulders with a single claw, giving him some of that wonderful attention he had received. Eventually, the tiger seemed to relax and drifted off in what one could call the wyvern's lap. Once his eyes had closed, Yelvin licked his lips and stretched out his jaw in a yawn, which eventually brought forth a slightly painful yet ever pleasing clicker-clack of his jaw unlocking to accumulate large prey. He held his friend with a cradling talon and gently began licking the feline's face, half testing his state of awareness and half savoring the flavor of this wonderful creature. He was finally satisfied enough to gently wrap his long tongue around the feline's shoulders and sealed his lips around his head. The feline stirred not, and Yelvin reveled in his predatory ecstacy. With careful talons he pushed the feline's striped arms up into his mouth past the head, eliminating the bulge of his shoulders dramatically. He unwrapped his tongue from the feline's neck and gently slid it under him down to his waist, licking and savoring every inch of this wonderful creature. Were it up to him, this moment would last forever. Unfortunately, as he brought the next mouthful inside him, the tiger's shoulders wedged into his throat, and it occurred to the wyvern he would need to swallow soon or choke to death.
It pained him dearly, but he grabbed the tiger's legs forcefully and swallowed hard, bringing his thighs into his mouth (both Yelvin and the wyvern were a little afraid of that area anyway). It pained him to do so, but it was better that he have a supply of oxygen, so he slid his tongue under his prey one last time, wrapped it around one of his legs, and forced the rest of him into his mouth and swallowed. Only the end of the feline's tail stayed outside his mouth, and he began to curse himself because with only that tiny fraction left he was able to breathe again. Sighing, he sucked that last piece of tail into his mouth and swallowed hard. Never again would he and this wonderful creature be apart.
Yelvin licked his lips happily and stretched out his jaw in a yawn.
Yelvin's jaw broke when it abruptly snapped back into place after the tiger clenched one of his clawed hands together in a fist and punched Yelvin square in the mouth with enough force to split an anvil down the middle. Yelvin fell flat on his back, landing with a crashing sound as if a tree had fallen in the forest.
The feline hefted his hatchet and fled the scene, and Yelvin snapped out of his trance.
Yelvin was so upset with himself. It was bad enough that he'd let his instincts completely take over, but that could have been alright since nobody was supposed to have known about it. Instead he daydreamed and the tiger had escaped. Diartigan would have a fit for sure!

After the feline forester had spread the word of Diartigan's evil nature, whatever good intentions Diartigan originally had faded. Revenge is all that occupies his mind, but he hasn't laid eyes upon the tiger since. To ensure that revenge would be his, he placed a curse on him that would keep him alive through whatever he might encounter, making Diartigan his only root to the great beyond. He had performed such curses before, and it seldom ever took longer than a decade for the recipient to beg for rest.
No such request was made. In fact, the number of unnatural deaths per year among Diartigan's followers increased dramatically. A spy later reported that Duraila had performed one last blessing before going into hibernation for centuries to come. The tiger eventually came to be known as Terastas, a dragon word that roughly translates to: "Nightmare."
And so, the pattern of good and evil takes formation. Duraila disappeared from sight after the first victim of Terastas was discovered, so Diartigan has been declared the unofficial victor. But, as the principles of good and evil require, a new conflict has been born. With Diartigan's victory, a new force has been summoned to contest with, and just like Diartigan's conflict with Duraila, his conflict with Terastas remained without loss or gain for a over a thousand years.
Until now...