Legacy (A story Based on Guild Wars 2)

Chapter 1 - Hatchery

The dwarves looked upon the egg's chamber. The crystaline shell was protected from Primordius and his destroyers, surrounded by dwarven technology and wisdom. They had found one of Glint's eggs not long ago, a traveler from the distant sands of Elona dressed in silk and crystal, a Zephyrite, had given them the gift. They had been spreading the eggs around all of Tyria to hide the legacy from Kralkatorrik and giving them to those mortals that could bond to them and give them purpose.

"Release the Primordial magics!" The dwarven king bellowed to his subjects. They had discovered a way to extract ley magics from destroyers in an attempt to harness the primal energies, and failed. But they knew that dragons feast upon ley energy and magics and with the stored primordial magics residing in quarentine, they would attempt to release it into the chamber.

The dwarven engineers released the bolts on the container, magics of light and fire spilled into the chamber and danced and fluttered. This ley energy had been filtered several times over, ensuring that primordius no longer had any control of this magic, but still the energy of an elder dragon was not to be taken lightly.

The mortals bobbed, weaved and panicked as the ley energy tried to find its way out of the chamber to spread but once it grazed the crystaline orb on the pedestal, it may as well had been over. The shards of faceted light spun around each other, absorbing the magics hungrily and ravenously, the crystal turning a bright molten orange and the magic inside twisting and turning.

When a peace fell over the chamber, silence broke into all but the egg. A low hum and scratching sang from the egg and an odd firey mist hovered over the floors and steps of the sanctuary, soft embers like fireflies like flurries in slow motion. The dwarves are quiet as they look on, listening and learning from the experience.

Suddenly, as if knowing its time was now, the hum became louder and higher pitched, the crystals inside spinning wildly. Cracks of molten orange shined through the glassy shell before giving way to light and fire.

She was beautiful. The perfect combination to Primordius and Glint, scales like hard carapace plating down her back dark red as if made of lava rock. The scales came to darker onyx plating in cooler areas on top of her muscle, her underplating was goldish brown and glowing red hot was the plating near her heart. Under the black plating was the same glow almost like vents, the tiniest embers and the coolest of heat leaving the onyx plates the temperature of warmth above a candle and very safe to touch. Crystal sprouts peak from her scales, a scythe on her nose tip and tail and her pronounced crystals on her jaw and where horns would grow in, small and rounded, the other crystals on her back and limbs smaller than the scicles and molten orange and give off light and energy.

She stumbled and slipped on the pedestal with a soft roar as the dwarves look on, some buckled with fear and others curious. The dwarven king stepped forward. He was young, long bearded and course haired, skin pale from the underground yet rough from work and wear and his hair jet black and greasey. He was afraid for his people, fear expressed in his chocolate irises.

He knew what he had done. Hatched a dragon in his kingdom with the energy brought from the very dragon that made them flee their homes. He knew his people may fight this but he also understood the importance of this scion of Glint as the Zephyrite had told him her legacy. He removed the thick leather glove from his hand, offering the bare skin to the hatchling the size of a miniature horse. She sniffed curiously as infants are.

Soon enough, the scion pushed her large rounded nose into his hand and closed her firey blue eyes with a soft chitter. She would not choose a champion but she would put her trust in this man. This King. Information through transferrence of energies through this dragon rushes through them both. The King; Just, strong and kind named Fraener. The dragon; Radient, gentle and powerful named Aveyon. 

Back in the lair of Primordius, the destroyers shuttered at the new power coming to the world and Primordius roared in anger. He had just felt the ley energy he had cultivated into the destroyers that the dwarves siphoned, consumed. He too also had felt the power surge through Tyria, though unsure what or why. It was however, not a lot of power. It was small compared to the other elder dragons.

His lieutenants backed away in fear of their master's wrath. An angered fire dragon, let alone an Elder Dragon was not something to be around in the slightest and based on their experiences and predecessors, it wasn't just ley energy a dragon consumed. They would consume their own minions no matter the cost of it.

The dwarven king, Fraener, and his subjects heard the muffled and distant roar deep in the chasms below and felt the rumble of Primordius' anger. The course haired king looked to the hatchling before him with grief and doubt. How could one a third of the size of Primordius' claw ever hope to bring down that of which brought his kind to its knees? That drove the Dwarves, the Skritt and even the Dredge out from the deepest chasms known to all mortal races of Tyria.