Kingdoms of Ohm: The Lonely Dragon #1 ✓

The Silver Wolf

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No dreams ever came, dear reader.

No voice beckoned for me.

Nothing was here. Nothing... but me.

My poor mind was as silent as this hostile place. As I knew it, Jorryn was a forested penumbra of Az'hark, one that seemingly lacked the very pride (and life) that filled the rest of Ohm. This was certain, long before I ended up imprisoned here -- bound by vines and sealed by fate. These carved woods once served to be a hunting grounds for us dragons -- a habitat where the hatchlings of Az'hark could safely practice breathing fire. Because of the moisture that hovered beneath the forest, wildfires were anything but common.

A millennium ago, my father brought me here just to train under the silver moon. He told me stories about how the earth was tamed by Kantar for us to walk upon, and he let me feel the soil squish between my talons, and feel the cool air lick my scales. Facing our fears in the dark, we managed to light a pine tree that blazed into the midnight sky, before settling into ash and embers.

It was quite satisfying.

Now this ancient soil was polluted by these savaged, untamed animals... and I was sadly trapped here amongst them. The sickening drive of these mammals was solely over their need to mate, and the rewarding pleasures that came with dominance. It was in their nature -- fueling their will to live as if nothing else mattered. Not even they can withstand the brute power of their instincts.

They sought no fun in scrolls. No dignity in celebrations. No honor in love (like the rest of us). All they ever wanted was power and hatchlings, for they'd rather that than the worth of their bleak and hollowed-out future.

Now, I wasn't the type of creature to retort their ways -- I respect everyone's tradition because it defined them. Every kingdom of Ohm bore a faith that made them unique, but was often frowned down upon by others. As we were to praise Kantar The Great, a Giant may relinquish that of the earth goddess: Gaea, or a fairy to her tree that blossomed above the undergrowth. I wish I wasn't the type to spot it's imperfections, the one to scrutinize it all, the very creature to pity everything that they are.

But when a tradition threatens your own, what can you do?

It felt wrong to think this way. Nay, it was wrong. Because the thoughts that consume me may very well be the exact same for my capturer.

Call it racial, it was the one thing that divided every mythical of Ohm, and the very reason why we couldn't bother to ally. Scales and Feathers, Skin to Fur, Rock and Fire -- nothing was meant to connect, other than what was seen on the outside. It wouldn't make sense anyway -- like a predator loving his or her prey. How long before they snap? How long before they turn? How long before they eat one another?

I wondered why we were all this way. So untrustworthy -- only relying amongst our own kinds and clans. It was the one primitive piece of our being we struggled to get rid of. We deliberately chose not to love another because we fear what it may risk for the future. And, even if a soul -- like myself -- questioned it, they'd swiftly bury it in the earth.

I snorted once. Xikori did it often. The day of the meeting I asked him for support of the other creatures, and he denied me. All out of fear.

I guess fear controlled everything after all.

But now was not the time to squander over faith and trust.

There was now a void growing inside me, an unorthodox doubt of some sort that I could not vanquish. Perhaps it was because I gave into their torture and pain. Perhaps it was because I was dying yet again, bleeding out every now and then to an infection while being forced to be ruled by another who I could behead in a heartbeat. Or worse, it was because my entire family was dead.