Prologue

The War Begins

Icaria – Magma Field, Gen. 284 – Ice

Mimring slowly scanned the barren rocks of his nesting cliff for any sign of prey. He was hungry, and all of the large animals had mysteriously left.

Mimring suspected this was because of the chance of an eruption. This made him nervous. Though he was a fire dragon, he was not a real lava dragon and therefore vulnerable to lava.

He wearily eyed Mt. Pherical, the source of the tremors Mimring felt at night. It was some distance away, so a minor eruption wouldn't reach him. But eruptions weren't always "minor".

Still, he couldn't abandon his chicks. They were not yet old enough to fly, and he couldn't carry all twelve at once. After the first trip with half the dragons, he would most likely return to find that another dragon had eaten the rest.

To make matters worse, this was an ice year, and more and more eggs were hatching into ice dragons. This had made the ice king, Nidhogg, especially cocky, and any fire dragons outside of the Magma Field would surely be destroyed without hesitation.

Immersed in his thoughts, Mimring hadn't noticed the green saurus until it was next to him, flicking its tongue out at him, inspecting him. Luckily fire dragons had the ability to cool their own blood temperature when standing still, so the saurus hadn't yet confirmed he was alive.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he swiveled his head. Then suddenly and without warning he released a jet of flames which would surely kill even the toughest saurus.

But when he looked up, he saw the green, lizard-like creature scuttling down the sheer incline of the cliff, then increasing its speed as it reached level ground. It sped across the black rock, carefully avoiding the pools of lava in its path.

As always, Mimring had made the mistake of underestimating the speed and reflexes of a saurus. Oh well. He loved a good chase.

In an instant his wings were out and he was in the air, quickly closing the gap between himself and the saurus.

When he was finally directly above it, he released another jet. This time, the saurus did not escape.

Circling down toward the corpse, Mimring could already imagine eating the meat. A decent sized saurus such as this one could feed him as well as all of his chicks.

But as soon as he touched the ground, he felt the tremors. Looking up, he realized he was at the base of Mt. Pherical.

Clutching the saurus in his claws, he spread his wings and struggled to achieve liftoff, but the saurus was weighing him down. Abandoning his dinner, he took off into the air, flying toward the safety of his cave.

He was close, so close, when the molten lava began to rain down around him.

He pushed on, but in his mind he knew there was no escape. He flapped his wings for what was surely the last time, and then there was a blue flash.

Valhalla – Utgar's Stronghold, Year 8657, 16:82

Mimring opened his eyes. He didn't know where he was, or why. All he knew was that he had passed out, and now he was here.

Slowly his memory returned to him, and that made him more confused.

Is this the afterlife? He wondered.

Looking around, he realized he was in a small room, lit by torches lining the walls.

In a throne composed of obsidian and granite sat a red-skinned humanoid creature. The creature possessed wings, but the entire anatomy of them was different. They were not feathered, like he had heard some wings were. But they were much different than a dragon's wings, and obviously wouldn't glide well.

"Is this the afterlife?" He wondered again, this time out loud.

"Not exactly. You can see it as more of a second chance," Mimring heard a voice say. Then he collapsed once again into darkness.

Valhalla – Utgar's Stronghold, Year 8657, 16:70

Utgar watched as his minions hauled in a large, brown-red reptilian body.

"We brought the dragon," one of them announced, bowing as far as was possible while supporting the body.

"Fools! I want a LIVING warrior!" Utgar yelled. "A corpse cannot battle!"

The minion was now trembling, fearful of what Utgar might do to him. "Sir, you do not understand. He is not dead, simply unconscious. He will awaken shortly, I assure you."

"Very well." Utgar sighed. "My time will come soon enough.

After about ten minutes of waiting, the dragon raised its head and blinked a few times.

"Is this the afterlife?" This surprised Utgar. He had heard that dragons communicated using grunts, snorts, and roars, but this dragon spoke English fluently. Surely he had found an exceptional creature!

"You can see it as more of a second chance," Utgar replied. Then, without warning, the dragon's head crashed back down against the stone floor, and the dragon passed out once more.

Utgar smiled. The dragon spoke a real language! This would aid him greatly in persuading the creature to join him. Now all he had to do was wait.

Valhalla – Utgar's Stronghold, Year 8657, 18:43

The dragon stirred. Utgar's patience had paid off.

"Where am I?" The dragon asked, surveying Utgar and his surroundings.

"Not important. What is important is that you are here. A war is about to take place, and I want you to join my army."

"What's my incentive?" The dragon asked.

"Well, if you don't join me, I could easily return you to where you were before." This wasn't true, but the dragon didn't know that and it seemed to have the desired effect.

"Alright, I'll join," the dragon said reluctantly. "But first, tell me what happened to my chicks."

This surprised Utgar. It was the last thing he had expected to hear from a ruthless dragon.

"They're dead."

The dragon's eyes grew wide. "How?"

Utgar laughed. "It is almost three hundred generations since you were brought here."

"I was asleep that long?"

"No, you weren't. You were merely drawn through the fabrics of space and time. And don't ask how. I do not feel like explaining." The truth was, though he would never admit it, Utgar didn't fully understand the process himself. "Now, tell me, what is your name?"

"Mimring."

"Alright, Mimring. Are you prepared to battle?"

Mimring nodded. "Yes. But first, I would like an explanation of what is going on here."

"Very well. Aloria, give Mimring a briefing on the current situation."

A kyrie warrior stepped forward from the shadows. "Yes, Sire," she said, bowing.

"When you are ready, return. Than shall begin the battle of all time."