This is an idea I worked out with a potential RP partner, but the story never got off the ground when my partner lost interest. I, however, thought it was outstanding. Basically, the legends of dragons are not really legends. They are based off an ancient reality. Long, long ago, before any recorded time, there were dragons. Just like beasts today have a great variety, so it was with dragons. Stone dragons. Air dragons. Fire dragons. Water dragons. Earth dragons. Lightening dragons. So many dragons - and the grand royal dragon to rule them all. The color of purple has long signified royalty, and that came from the royal purple dragons that ruled all the dragons. Until the great King Dragon died, and his heir was unhatched. A great and bitter war amongst the dragons broke out over who would rule until the heir was of age. Dragon conspiracies to kidnap the heir egg were too many to count. Thousands of dragons died in the war, and ultimately a battle was fought in the palace itself over the egg that resulted in the Queen Mother dying. The family that had lived as the protectors of the royal dragons stepped in. A spell was performed - a massive spell that took the lives of every member of the Guardian clan except one. The spell forced an eternal sleep on every dragon until the heir egg hatched.
But the egg never hatched. It's mother was dead.
Ages went by. The eternally lived Guardian continued to diligently guard the Heir Egg and the dragon city that contained it. As the years rolled by, sand covered the streets, filtered in through the doorways. The Guardian watched as the sands covered the Egg, but did nothing. No sand covering the Egg would matter if the Heir chose to awake. Eventually, the dragon city was buried entirely. The world changed around the Guardian. Spells were woven - if a building in the city was breached, he would know. But nonstop vigilance over an empty expanse of desert was no longer needed.
But then...after a great sandstorm, a corner of a building was discovered by a nomadic Mongolian tribe. Word got into the cities, and alerted an archaeologist who came to investigate. An archaeological dig was begun.
“Luu khot tsöld baidag yum”
“What did she say, Papa?” Callie smiled down at the woman who was, quite possibly, the oldest woman in the world. She certainly looked the part. Withered and dry, with more wrinkles than a shar-pei. Dressed in a dusty bronze colored robe that matched the color of her skin, the old woman did not even look at the white man and woman in front of her. Her voice chanted on and on, a shrill musty sound in the deafening racket of the Mongolian marketplace.
“Just that old nonsense about the city of dragons” Jasper Hunt smiled kindly down at the old woman, the very picture of interested English patience. “I do wonder what caused the legend though. You know what I always say, Callie…”
“At the root of every legend is a kernel of truth.” Callie laughed, slipping her hand into her father’s. “Maybe we will find that kernel on the dig. I can say it is far more likely than finding it from this old woman.”
Jasper pressed a coin into the woman’s hand and started away. He stopped when Callie shrieked, and turned to see her staring down at the woman who clutched at her leg in a frenzy.
“Luu khaalgach bolgoomjil! Luu khaalgach bolgoomjil!”
The woman’s grandchildren pried her fingers from Callie’s leg and the girl stumbled away, staring at the woman in shock as her family led her away, casting profuse apologies over their shoulder.
“What was she screaming at me, Papa?”
Jasper was frowning after the woman, his weathered gray brow furrowed.
“Beware the dragon keeper….”
The dig was not much quieter than the marketplace. Workers scraped and shoveled and carried dirt. Students discussed findings. The managers overseeing the diggers shouted orders and commands. And over it all, the desert wind howled.
The dig itself was a fantastic thing. A massive stone city that was discovered peeking up from the desert sand after a day-long sandstorm swept over it. Neither Archaeologist Hunt nor any of the Americans with him believed the city was actually an ancient city of dragons, but the structure of the city that was only now beginning to reveal itself was fascinating. Ground penetrating radar had revealed massive buildings, wide avenues the size of American interstates, and huge open spaces. The size of the dig was staggering. Thousands worked here over an ancient city that stretched for miles – and the borders had still not clearly been mapped out. And Jasper Hunt was in charge of it all.
Perhaps it was due to the “boss” appearing on site that the steady roar of the work dipped. But more than likely it was because every man there – and they were mostly men – were at least surreptitiously eyeing the boss’s pretty nineteen year old daughter. She was worth looking at, with her tanned sleek teenage skin shown off with her jean shorts, khaki cotton button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the front opened to display a brown ribbed tank top. She wore hiking boots, a straw hat perched over her dark brown hair, and sunglasses that hid her melted chocolate eyes. But it was her mouth that inspired the most fantasies from the workers. Wide and full, with plump gleaming pink lips that begged for a fat cock to be slid between them. Those lips were currently curled up in a gleeful smile as she slid down into one of the sand pits, mixing with the workers as they moved the sand from a doorway large enough a semi-truck could have driven through.
The excitement prickled through the crowd. It was the first time one of these buildings had been entered. The doorways were examined for any signs of a door, but there were none. No marks of hinges or other fastenings in the elegantly carved stone. Two members of the Mongolian security forces moved closely behind Jasper as he stepped into the stone building. Callie was right behind them.
Despite being buried beneath the sand for ages, the room was cool and relatively clean except for the sand that had spilled through the open doorway. There were no signs of furniture except for two elegant stone tubs carved into one of the far walls, about the size of bathtubs.
“Bathing rooms, Papa?” Callie questioned. They all moved towards the tubs, peering inside. There was nothing.
“Perhaps. Let’s explore.”
There was a wide, open doorway leading to another room. Room by room, they explored. Every single one empty. It was the fifth room deep they found the paintings. Jasper was the first one in, lifting a torch to light the way. His gasp was loud. Soon he, Callie, their two government dogs, and other archaeologists and students were staring in awe at the bright, gleaming paintings that decorated the walls of this chamber.
Jasper’s voice was a croak. Yes, dragons. Dragons flying, massive beasts the size of a semi-truck gliding through the air. Sitting in the sun, glittering and gleaming in different colors of the rainbow. Bathing in rivers and lakes. Eating raw meat from what was obviously a fresh kill. Baby dragons, awkward adolescent dragons. The minutes stretched as the humans gawked at the beauty, the talented, lifelike drawings covering every inch of the walls.
“Oh, Papa. It’s so beautiful….”
“The city of dragons…the old hag was right.”
Father and daughter stopped and looked at each other, then laughed.
“We dig. This is a wondrous find. I want photos taken of all these drawings. Let’s get this building mapped out, I want to know how deep it is. Let’s go, people!”
The next three days passed in a blur. It was late on the third day, when the afternoon shadows were stretching long on the desert sands, that Callie found the jewel. At least, that is what she considered it to be. She was exploring a newly opened building, one that had some damage to the ceiling. As a result there was a lot more sand in the interior rooms, and in the third room Callie had found a jewel buried in the sand. It was a stunningly beautiful jewel in the shape of an egg. A large egg. Polished and smooth, the edges were a dark indigo. But the heart of the jewel seemed to …well…there was no other word for it. It glowed a vibrant rich purple.
It was, too be quite honest, the most beautiful jewel Callie had ever seen. She found herself hunched over it in the corner, brushing sand off it long after there was no sand to brush off. Just to feel the warmth of the gem under her fingers. Her heart ached with its beauty.
It was the first find on the dig. No other objects had been found at all. She should have immediately turned it over to her father. Instead, she tucked it into the small satchel slung over her back that held her water bottle, notepad, and other small things. Tomorrow. She would hand it over tomorrow. Tonight she just wanted to…to touch it.
She ate without tasting anything, claiming exhaustion and all but running to her tent. She zipped the flaps shut, turned off her lamp, and in the darkness she took out the jewel. Without the flickering light of a torch, the glow of the gem was even more noticeable. So noticeable she was afraid it would be noticed from the outside of her tent, so she slid into bed and burrowed underneath the thin blanket. There she just…HELD the jewel. Touching it. Rubbing it. Loving the feel of it under her fingers. This obsession with the egg was unhealthy, she knew that. It was wrong. She needed to turn it over right away to her father.
For now, she just wanted…no…NEEDED to touch it.
A soft peeping filled her ear. Something pecked sharply at her ear.
She smacked at it, grumbling and turning over onto her side. A squeaking little giggling sound brought her eyes flying open. She stared into the big owl-like eyes of the purple creature perched on her cot beside her and swallowed hard. Her mind froze, utterly unable to process what she was seeing.
The creature chirped again, a sound of love and adoration as it leaned forward, nuzzling it’s snout against her cheek. She flinched, and something crunched under the blanket. Her hand fumbled, felt something slick and wet and hard. She brought it out, staring at the shard of jewel in her fingers. Turned her eyes to the creature staring up at her like she hung the moon. And screamed.
When she screamed, the creature….not a dragon. No, no definitely not a dragon. Dragons didn’t exist. The creature shrieked with her, a tiny little sound of confusion and pain and fear. It ran to her, tottering the few steps over her pillow till it could burrow its little scaly purple head under her neck. Shouts of alarm arose near her tent, and the little creature little out a peeping little whimper. Instinctively her hand rose to cover it, stroking it comfortingly. Her tent was yanked open, and her father’s flushed, worried face peered inside.
“Callie! Callie, are you alright?”
His eyes dropped to the sweeping, spiked purple tail that curled up on her pillow, following it up that slender, almost snakelike purple scaly body to where it disappeared between Callie’s neck and the pillow. His wide eyes met those of his daughter.
“Papa, I think I accidentally adopted a dragon.”
Callie is now the mother of the dragon. She will have to work with the dragon guardian as they face an uncertain future. Dragons and modern humans will now collide. Intelligent beast vs intelligent beast. Only the Guardian - and probably soon Callie - can speak Dragon. Together they will have to struggle to bring humans and dragons to an understanding. Together they will have to try to prevent a war that will surely break out - a war that can devastate the entire planet. If the war does break out, they will have to survive and help the fledgling heir survive as well. He is far too young to command the allegiance he needs to control the thousands of dragons that will be rising from their hidden sleeping places with war on their minds.