The Dragon's Consortium

40 - Sirath's Perspective

Cain Angus - POV;

The white hub world of nothingness had given way to prosperous green pastures covered by lush greenery and interspersed by towering Oak trees. Butterflies glided along with the gentle breeze while dragonflies zipped past.

"What do you want Sirath?" the Gold Accented Dragon asked me. It took me some time but I soon realised that my attempt had succeeded. I had entered into Sirath's memory and I now witnessed history itself through her.

Sirath - POV;

Durnehviir looked at me after I called his name. The young juvenile dragon turned his attention to me. His golden scales reflected nicely in the light. I was always made jealous when I saw his breathtaking colour scheme, with his prominant primary gold complimented perfectly by black accents. His jet black, leathery wings suited his alpha male look along with his dominating wingspan.

Even while we were children, merely 40 human years old (which is really young being 8 Dragon Years), I could already tell that he would become a great and powerful Dragon in adulthood. I was around that age where I started crushing on the young stud but what chance did I, a worthless, common purple dragon, stand against a dragon like Durnehviir who hailed from a rare ancient species of Dragons, famous for their strength and power.

"Why do always have to be so stuck up as if you're better than everyone else?" I questioned in reference to his tone as he answered me.

"Well I am better than you now aren't I? How can a lowly creature like youself even be compared to the greatness of my bloodline?" he boasted.

"Ugh! Your arrogance and ego is so damn infuriating!" I complained.

"Then you shouldn't have called me in the first place plebian. Now run home to your worthless family," he insulted me. I lunged on Durnehviir and bit his neck and back in a fit of anger. The egotistical fool was taken by complete surprise initially but he quickly shook it off and fought back. He expanded his wings, launching me off of his body. He immediately pinned me down with a wing stepping over me and snapping at my unprotected head mercilessly as I wailed in pain.

"Durnehviir! Calm yourself!" another voice shouted as a black tail slapped the 4 ft. tall Gold Accented Dragon into the air. Durnehviir landed some yards away and squirmed from the pain of impact.

"How dare you take advantage of a young girl you coward!" the new arrival criticized. I looked up at my saviour as he gently raised me from the dirt. It was Dulanth, a Dark Black Dragon who always acted like somewhat of an older brother to Durnehviir and I. He was a bit older than us at 90 human years old (18 Dragon Years) and with that came his seniority and a demand for respect.

Durnehviir held a great level of esteem for Dulanth but he also kept a great fear of the dragon who would always punish him harshly if he acted out of line. Through this, Durnehviir was being raised to follow in the large expectations demanded from him because of his ancestors.

Durnehviir's father had employed Dulanth to raise his son because being one of the Ancient Anticuus Dragons he was always busy. The Anticuus were a few of the most powerful and oldest dragons to walk Nabrunia and beyond, and they were in charge of a number of magical duties far too powerful for even the combined force of Qostros, Yanukar and Uradora.

Dulanth, having become widely known for his potential and ability at a ripe, young age, was deemed a perfext fit for educating the legendary progeny.

"Aren't you ashamed to be assaulting a helpless girl?!" Dulanth exclaimed, knocking down the young male dragon. Durnehviir rose shakily and whimpered.

"Are you going to go cry now? Man up already and stop acting like a whiny lady!" Dulanth shouted again, hitting Durnehviir yet another time.

"Stop! Please don't hurt him!" I cried out to Dulanth. He looked at me and then Durnehviir before taking flight and leaving us behind. I brought water and herbs to clean the egotistical juvenile's wounds. He looked at me when I did and gritted his teeth.