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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.
Clicker-clack!
Huh?
Ker-POW!!!
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...
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