Prologue: The Evil One
All was peaceful in the world of dragons. Different dragons were doing different things. Some were sleeping quietly and some loudly. Some of the more playful dragons - mostly hatchlings - were playing enjoyable games. Some of the more daring types of dragons were soaring through the sky. Many of the adults were chatting with each other about their days, their children, and environmental problems while the ancients were busy thinking about historical moments and thinking up wise, scientific questions about the planet to think about.
The dragons had lived in harmony for many millenniums despite problems from enemies and the growth of the human population. Many kingdoms of different animals had already signed peace treaties with the dragons. Everything seemed right. All that would soon change as a legendary foe began to rise again after many centuries of being trapped in the Valley of No Return.
Deep within the Valley of No Return, a valley located somewhere in eastern Europe, inside an ancient castle, the walls were molded. The roof was broken open, sun shining into the dark fortress. The castle no longer looked as bright and shiny as it was in the good, old days. The castle had once been beautiful, and that was how its owner had liked it.
And that owner's name was Blackfang, The Evil One.
Blackfang, The Evil One snorted, turned around, and looked at his reflection in a large mirror behind him. The mirror was exactly the size of him - a large warship. Blackfang, being evil, had always admired his own reflection, and he made sure that he was good looking even though no one would want to love him. To do this, he had ordered his slaves - servants, he called them - to clean him from head to tail until he felt beautiful.
Blackfang grinned, his dark purple tongue flicking back and forth between his teeth. "Hey there, fine dragon," he smirked at the mirror. His grin soaked into his eyes as he examined himself. His teeth were as sharp as swords, his scales as red as blood, his eyes as dark as night. He was brilliant, marvelous, absolutely fantastic - well, at least that's what he thought. He had impressive ears next to his cheek bone that could hear even the slightest of whispers despite having tons of earwax. Because his eyes were so keen, he could see a rock from miles away. Blackfang's own spikes and horns shown like gold, even the spike sticking out of his snout.
Blackfang eventually turned away from the mirror to go back to what he was so angry about moments ago. He only had one favorite food: other dragons. Even though he was a dragon, Blackfang loved the horror that dragons showed to him just before he killed them, scattering around like frightened ants. But he also killed dragons because of a secret vengeance he had on them, though no one knew why. Blackfang was so angry when he was trapped in the Valley of No Return. His high-temper had caused him to kill more than half of his servants out of rage, and he lusted for dragon blood ever since.
No one really knew why he was so angry all the time; from stress, perhaps? Or maybe he didn't like dragons in general? Only Blackfang himself knew the answer, and he kept it a secret. Whenever one of his many elf servants would be foolish enough to ask him why, he would devour them with outstretched jaws.
Blackfang was in his worst mood when Winley, his elf advisor, was running late. He had ordered the elf to fetch him his dinner almost an hour ago. He grunted angrily, the dragon was becoming very impatient, and that wasn't a good thing.
"Grahh!" growled Blackfang as he stomped his paw angrily. Five seconds went by and still no response from his advisor. Out of pure impatience, he bellowed, "Winley, where is my cow?"
To his relief, a small elf with spiky, silver hair rushed into the great throne room carrying a big, silver platter. In he rushed, practically tripping over a woven rug. With a loud yelp, he toppled to the ground, sending the dish flying. Luckily for him that he had caught it just in time.
Blackfang huffed angrily and puffed a fog of icy, cold air at the small dwarf in impatience. "Where the devil (in this case, Blackfang) have you been all of this time? I almost shed my scales out of pure frustration! Huh!" Grunted Blackfang, snapping an annoying fly in two with his paw after it foolishly landed on the ground in front of him. "Get off your lazy bum and come over here!"
Winley almost cracked up laughing at his master; luckily, he was able to stop himself. Oh, I'm the lazy one? When his master gave a deep, menacing growl, he snapped out of it and picked himself up off the ground. Winley dusted himself off, and he pulled Blackfang's dish up. He approached Blackfang at a steady pace just in case his master decided to strike at him. "Yes, master. Sorry, master. I won't do it again, master. I'm foolish, master, very foolish. I-"
"Oh, shut up, you useless wine-bottle! For your sake, you better hope I'm satisfied." The elf sat the platter down and opened it to reveal a cow. Blackfang tipped his snout down and sniffed the food. His eyes scanned the meat from head to hoof as he began to inspect it to see if it met his requirements of a good meal: It had to be fat, roasted, and edible. The roasted and edible part was fine, but what about fat?
"You know that's not my name, master. It's Win-lee," muttered Winley nervously, but his master ignored that remark. Winley watched his master nervously. If his master wanted to, he could eat him right there and then. He tapped his shoe nervously and watched Blackfang, frightened of what might happen.
After a while of looking at the cow, Blackfang turned his stunning, blood, red eyes to Winley. "Is that it?"He growled angrily.
"Yes, o' evil one," shivered Winley who thought about Blackfang's growing appetite. What if he decided to eat him instead like he did to most of his other servants?
"This is pathetic! Is this supposed to be the main course? This is a runt!"
Winley shivered and backed away, only for Blackfang to edge closer and tap his claw on the ground in annoyance. "Well, master, i-it's been a slow week. There hasn't been many cows born-"
"Those stupid cows are not the reason! You just aren't breeding them enough! Why can't you just cook something good for a change... like a dragon?" asked Blackfang.
"I'm afraid I can't, master! There aren't any dragons h-" Winley shuddered. He could feel his master's icy breath chilling down his neck.
"'I'm afraid I can't, master! There aren't any dragons!'" Growled Blackfang angrily, giving his best impression of his advisor's squeaky voice. "I want a dragon! Now get me one, or I'll be having you instead," threatened Blackfang as he showed his massive black fangs; he wasn't called Blackfang for nothing. "And don't try to make a fake dragon and stuff it with cow meat!"
Winley stared at Blackfang's massive jaws and shuddered. The memories of all of those who had been gored to death by those mighty jaws was so frightening, he could remember exactly how many elves had lost their lives to their master.
Winley shivered in anger, remembering two very important elves that had been crushed by Blackfang's jaws: his parents. Angry, but careful not to show it, Winley bravely said to his master, "But Blackfang, we're stuck here, remember! The dragon elders trapped us here! How can I-"
"Nonsense! I'm stuck, not you. Don't remind me of those annoying, old, foolish, geezers again, wine-bottle, or you'll be seeing your family soon," growled Blackfang, his eyes flickering down toward his stomach. "Now, if you would let me explain to that nut-sized brain of yours, I have been practicing spells of which you would never guess since the day I was trapped in this prison of forestry. After centuries of being stuck down here, I've grown stronger. Strong enough to never be touched by the likes of those fools again. One of my spells allows me to transport people and objects to places through memories of that specific place."
Winley looked at the Evil One uncertain on what his master was going to say. Whatever it was, he didn't like it.
Then Blackfang lowered his ear down to the small dwarf. "Climb in." He growled to his 'wine bottle.'
"Wait, what? Why?" asked Winley a bit confused. He looked at the mucky goo sliding around deep within Blackfang's ear.
"Listen, you twit! Don't you have any sense in that little brain of yours?" snapped Blackfang. Sensing his servant's fear, he lowered his tone and continued in a deep, menacing tone. "I've been to the Dragon Kingdom several times in the past and have a good memory of what it looks like. I will be transporting you to a meadow in the central valley where then you will go and bring me back a dragon. I don't care how you do it, just bring it here. If I were to get one myself, those pests would rise up and start pestering me until I drop dead."
"But Blackfang, your earwax is absolutely repulsive!" cried Winley in protest. He had seen how bad his master's ears could get every day during his master's daily 'spa', and today they were at their worst.
"I don't care if it's raining rats and hogs! Now shut up and climb in here, or you'll be going into my stomach instead!" growled Blackfang, "I still don't have anything to eat, and an elf is just what my stomach wants right about now." Blackfang's stomach growled loudly as if to agree with its owner. "And you know how my stomach always gets what it wants."
"I don't want to meet it," muttered Winley. The elf gulped and reluctantly climbed up his master's cheek scale by scale. He couldn't help but look down Blackfang's cheek to his muzzle where several sharp, purely white teeth curved in a grimacing smile.
Winley climbed up into his master's slimy ear and plugged his nose as he walked through it, step by step. His shoes stuck to the earwax at first, but he kept on walking until he reached his master's brain.
"Are you at my brain yet?" thundered Blackfang's voice to his puny servant. He didn't want his servant pulling any tricks on him. Luckily he had made sure the elf didn't have any weapons that might be able to kill him from the inside. If his advisor was to try that, he could just use a spell that would allow his brain to form a hole leading to his throat. Then he could just shake his head and cause his servant to fall down his throat and into his stomach acid. Then he would be safe from harm's way and his stomach would be satisfied.
"Yes, master," replied Winley careful not to be too loud in case he gave his master a headache. Then he would be in trouble.
The Evil One's brain was big, strong, and full of mighty tissue. Blackfang wasn't exactly a dumb dragon; he was actually very intelligent with a high IQ. A lot of memories were inside that brain. Winley wished he could somehow see what had happened to Blackfang in his childhood. Why was he such a ruthless dragon-cannibal? What did the dragons ever do to him?
"Good, now go into my brain cloud," ordered Blackfang. He could feel his servant walking on his brain and shuttered painfully. He focused his thoughts to Winley and created a gaseous cloud in his head.
Winley watched as a large, green cloud of gas appeared in front of him. Oh, how the elf knew he would regret this, but he plugged his nose and walked into the cloud anyway. A dark, murky substance engulfed the elf as he appeared in a strange maelstrom of Blackfang's thoughts.
Blackfang was thinking of many things while Winley was teleporting. He was thinking about dragons and all of the ones he had killed. However, he made haste to erase his mind of all memory of his mysterious past so that his servant wouldn't know his history. One particular thought caught Winley's ears.
That fool better find me a dragon, or I'll soon make a meal out of him!
The words echoed throughout the maelstrom and into Winley's ears. Those words stunned him; however, those words weren't the only things that stunned him. A forest was slowly beginning to form in front of him. And within that forest stood the mightiest beasts known to man.
Winley tensed his eyes at the magnificent beasts before him. He hadn't seen a normal one of those in centuries. He was used to seeing Blackfang's ugly muzzle all of the time. But most importantly, he was free of his master's torment. He was as free as a bird, allowed to do whatever he wanted, and his master couldn't do anything about it either! But for some reason, he still felt his master could still come after him, despite being trapped. After all, his master had told him he had powers of which he could never guess.
Maybe Winley should keep to his promise to Blackfang even though he shouldn't be following his master's orders. But he needed to show integrity. He needed to lure these beasts in front of him. He needed to lure dragons.
