CHAPTER ONE
The Land of Ophel has been one of peace for as long as anyone can remember. Ruled by a group of angels, called the Curators; Ophel is a place where Men and magical creatures; Elves, Merpeople and Dragons; alike can live together in harmony. But, until lately, the many tribes of Dragons have been on edge. In the past decade, 8 of the remaining 10 Dragon tribes have been wiped off the map. The Tuli Dragons of the north have claimed that the Royeren tribe of the south had wiped them out, and the Royeren had claimed that it was the Tuli. It was uncertain who had wiped them out, but this bickering between the two remaining tribes will cause the end of the world.
Two figures, shrouded in black glide along the floor of the forest. They evade the moonlight shining dimly through the canopy. They have come too far for anyone to find them out now. But, they still had a way to go. They were headed towards the city of Vita, deep in the land of Men. Here, a meeting will be held. The recent war of words between the two Dragon tribes may soon turn into action, and if they do, the chaos will destroy all the civilisations on Ophel.
By now, the sun was about to rise in the city of Vita. There has been a lot of buzz by the commoners about the appearance of many delegates from the Elves and Merpeople. However, nobody is too sure about why they were here and what they wanted to achieve. But, one thing was sure; the King of the Men, Rector, invited them all. And it was Rector who started the secret meeting.
"Welcome, my friends." They were seated in the hall. It was like a scene from a church, where the delegates sat in rows. "I think that you all know why you are here today. The Dragons have gone out of control. They plan to have a war! And, it looks like we sensible ones are the only ones who can stop them." The crowd up roared with a 'Hear, hear!'
"What do you plan to do about them?" An Elvan delegate exclaimed.
"We plan to stop them on the battlefield. That's what we'll do." A further uproar.
"But, won't that mean that just cause more bloodshed?" A figure, cladded in a black rope responded in a feminine voice.
"But, it is the only way to do it. Anymore quest..."
"But, that will only wipe out the Dragons."
"It doesn't matter does it? Next q..."
"Why doesn't it matter?"
"Because the Dragons are vicious brutes that never benefited any of our societies, that why," Rector was beginning to lose is patience. "Can we move on from this ..."
"On what grounds can you say that they have never made a contribution?”
"May I ask who you are?" Rector could not tolerate anymore.
"Can you answer my question first?"
"Not until you have given me your name." Silence. She was still hesitant.
"I am Melyssa, Princess of the Dragons." The crowd all sighed in awe. The Princess of the Dragons is supposed to be the only living relative to a Barbarian tribe which dies many years ago, known to have captured and raised Dragons. They were even known to have the power to control Dragons. But, the Princess of the Dragons was supposed to have not been seen for many years.
"Well, your Highness. Welcome to you. Why don't you come up here and tell us why we shouldn't act so." We pointed to the altar. Melyssa stood up, and walked up to the altar; with her, another cladded figure.
"Killing the Dragons is not the way to go," she began. "If we get caught up in…”
"Can you please take off you hood, your Highness?"
"Pardon me?"
"Can you please take off you hood? You beauty is legend, I would like to see first hand for myself." She hesitated.
"The Princess only came here to protest against this travesty, not to show off." The black cladded figure spoke in a delicate male voice.
"I was not talking to you, and you should not talk to me like that, or I'll have you lock in the dungeons. Now, Princess, if you please." She hesitated, but in the end, decided to do it under pressure from Rector and the delegates.
Everyone in the room was shocked. Under the hood wasn't a beautiful warrior Princess. Instead, it was a Dragon. She was human shape, but the head was scaly. She had teeth and large flaring nostrils.
"You are not the Princess of Dragons!" An old man cried out. And, eventually, so did everybody else. The Princess began to panic.
"Impostor!" Rector yelled, pointing to the Princess. "Guards, seize the impostor!" Guards burst in through the door.
"Wait!" The other cladded figure jumped in front of the Princess. Everyone stopped and stood in silence. "She is the Princess of the Dragons." Again, the crowd was in awe.
“But, the Princess was supposed to beautiful, not some hideous creature.” Rector said in disgust.
“It doesn’t matter, she IS the Princess.”
“How can we trust you?” A delegate from the Merpeople shouted from the crowd.
“You just have to,” the crowd started to murmur.
“Silence, please,” he turned towards the man in the cape. “Look, young man, we have had enough of this trickery. Please take, what ever it is, and leave us.”
“You still don’t believe me, do you?” Silence. The young man took off his cloak, revealing a young man with messy, short black hair, and clothes to match. He reached for his shirt and pulled it off. Again, the crowd was shocked.
On the back, the man had two stiches both inclining towards each other only slightly. Surely, anyone would have known that what used to be there were wings. “You do not need to know my real name. But, here, on Ophel, I am known as Pravus, The Fallen Angel. And, she IS the Princess, Melyssa.”
The Land of Ophel has been one of peace for as long as anyone can remember. Ruled by a group of angels, called the Curators; Ophel is a place where Men and magical creatures; Elves, Merpeople and Dragons; alike can live together in harmony. But, until lately, the many tribes of Dragons have been on edge. In the past decade, 8 of the remaining 10 Dragon tribes have been wiped off the map. The Tuli Dragons of the north have claimed that the Royeren tribe of the south had wiped them out, and the Royeren had claimed that it was the Tuli. It was uncertain who had wiped them out, but this bickering between the two remaining tribes will cause the end of the world.
Two figures, shrouded in black glide along the floor of the forest. They evade the moonlight shining dimly through the canopy. They have come too far for anyone to find them out now. But, they still had a way to go. They were headed towards the city of Vita, deep in the land of Men. Here, a meeting will be held. The recent war of words between the two Dragon tribes may soon turn into action, and if they do, the chaos will destroy all the civilisations on Ophel.
By now, the sun was about to rise in the city of Vita. There has been a lot of buzz by the commoners about the appearance of many delegates from the Elves and Merpeople. However, nobody is too sure about why they were here and what they wanted to achieve. But, one thing was sure; the King of the Men, Rector, invited them all. And it was Rector who started the secret meeting.
"Welcome, my friends." They were seated in the hall. It was like a scene from a church, where the delegates sat in rows. "I think that you all know why you are here today. The Dragons have gone out of control. They plan to have a war! And, it looks like we sensible ones are the only ones who can stop them." The crowd up roared with a 'Hear, hear!'
"What do you plan to do about them?" An Elvan delegate exclaimed.
"We plan to stop them on the battlefield. That's what we'll do." A further uproar.
"But, won't that mean that just cause more bloodshed?" A figure, cladded in a black rope responded in a feminine voice.
"But, it is the only way to do it. Anymore quest..."
"But, that will only wipe out the Dragons."
"It doesn't matter does it? Next q..."
"Why doesn't it matter?"
"Because the Dragons are vicious brutes that never benefited any of our societies, that why," Rector was beginning to lose is patience. "Can we move on from this ..."
"On what grounds can you say that they have never made a contribution?”
"May I ask who you are?" Rector could not tolerate anymore.
"Can you answer my question first?"
"Not until you have given me your name." Silence. She was still hesitant.
"I am Melyssa, Princess of the Dragons." The crowd all sighed in awe. The Princess of the Dragons is supposed to be the only living relative to a Barbarian tribe which dies many years ago, known to have captured and raised Dragons. They were even known to have the power to control Dragons. But, the Princess of the Dragons was supposed to have not been seen for many years.
"Well, your Highness. Welcome to you. Why don't you come up here and tell us why we shouldn't act so." We pointed to the altar. Melyssa stood up, and walked up to the altar; with her, another cladded figure.
"Killing the Dragons is not the way to go," she began. "If we get caught up in…”
"Can you please take off you hood, your Highness?"
"Pardon me?"
"Can you please take off you hood? You beauty is legend, I would like to see first hand for myself." She hesitated.
"The Princess only came here to protest against this travesty, not to show off." The black cladded figure spoke in a delicate male voice.
"I was not talking to you, and you should not talk to me like that, or I'll have you lock in the dungeons. Now, Princess, if you please." She hesitated, but in the end, decided to do it under pressure from Rector and the delegates.
Everyone in the room was shocked. Under the hood wasn't a beautiful warrior Princess. Instead, it was a Dragon. She was human shape, but the head was scaly. She had teeth and large flaring nostrils.
"You are not the Princess of Dragons!" An old man cried out. And, eventually, so did everybody else. The Princess began to panic.
"Impostor!" Rector yelled, pointing to the Princess. "Guards, seize the impostor!" Guards burst in through the door.
"Wait!" The other cladded figure jumped in front of the Princess. Everyone stopped and stood in silence. "She is the Princess of the Dragons." Again, the crowd was in awe.
“But, the Princess was supposed to beautiful, not some hideous creature.” Rector said in disgust.
“It doesn’t matter, she IS the Princess.”
“How can we trust you?” A delegate from the Merpeople shouted from the crowd.
“You just have to,” the crowd started to murmur.
“Silence, please,” he turned towards the man in the cape. “Look, young man, we have had enough of this trickery. Please take, what ever it is, and leave us.”
“You still don’t believe me, do you?” Silence. The young man took off his cloak, revealing a young man with messy, short black hair, and clothes to match. He reached for his shirt and pulled it off. Again, the crowd was shocked.
On the back, the man had two stiches both inclining towards each other only slightly. Surely, anyone would have known that what used to be there were wings. “You do not need to know my real name. But, here, on Ophel, I am known as Pravus, The Fallen Angel. And, she IS the Princess, Melyssa.”