"For never can true reconcilement grow
I rushed to the birthing cavern, slithering around my brethren to see if it was true. Indeed, in the air pocket that housed the eggs, the Chosen one had been born. We were stupefied at his appearance, but the birth could never be denied. Told by sages from ages long ago, we knew our savior would come.
Many of the young ones, giddy and full of life, swam in swirls like fools. I reminded them not to risk exposure in their glee. We did not need trouble from those animals on the surface. Their time would come.
Ahh, but the temptation to join in the youths bubbled in my brain for I shared their fevered elation. In my centuries of life under the waters as I led these dragons, I hoped for such a reality before my life passed over. There he was, mewling, growling and perfect, an utter dream slipping out of a giant shell. None like unto him has been seen on this planet in over three thousand years. So long did we toil under this current guise that many thought the legends of great dragons were just that, fanciful tales spun by the dreams of Terran children. Many believed our current subdued state a natural one, but I never wanted to accept that.
From our great magic minds, we have long fed on those dreams, reading the thoughts and fears of mankind. They dream of dragons and realms long ago, not realizing their victory over us in ages past was a tangible reality. It was their mighty men of old that drove us off land and made us seek refuge below the surface. These warriors broke our spirits and forced our minds into such dismal shame. Perhaps this indignity led to our deformity and contemporary status, thus robbing us of our majesty.
However, this fresh one is going to change all that. Yes, this young one is better than a Red Heifer to some races above, or their Son of Man riding on a steed out of the sky. For this dragon child born is more beautiful than words. My eyes at last rested on a dragon born with wings.
After he breeds a new race of dragons, he will rise up on those wings and lead the next generation against the cattle on land. So easy a prey there never was. The Terrans have bred out all of the primal qualities of their kind, much as our unwillingness to fight made our wings go away. I hope I see the day this young one stretches forth his wings and guides the dragons out of the murky depths of Loch Ness.
Steven L. Shrewsbury, 35, creator of Dack Shannon, Thor Alexander, and the MAJESTIC Universe, is the author of over 325 published tales online or in print. His third book, Bulletproof Soul, has just been released from Black Death Books.
His tales have appeared in print magazines like Eldritch Tales, Fighting Chance, Dark Wisdom, Black Petals & Mystery Buff. Over a hundred of his poems are in magazines like Penny Dreadful, Bibile of Hell and Deathrealm. His first book, Nocturnal Vacation, was released in 2002 by Publish America. His second book, was released in May 03 by Double Dragon Publishing.
He has appeared in many anthologies, most recently Blackest Death-I, Deathgrip-2: Legacy of Terror, Scary, Cemetery Poets, GhostBreakers, ATROCITAS AQUA and Labor Pool. He will soon will appear in Adventurous, Historical Hardboiled, and Kings of the Night.
His website is www.stevenshrewsbury.com.
Published by permission of the author.