Dragon Tears

Vapors of steam rose from the dark waters as the sun ascended to its throne and its rays rapidly heated the cooled water. Patche gre green dotted the marches and the white mist blanketed all until, a minute, barely noticeable movement and then, the river exploded. In a flash of blinding light, the cranes took flight, leaving me alone and chagrined. I had only blinked, casually shifted my head...but that was all it took... The birds we gone and the water was calm once again... as if they had never been there at all, as if I was the only living creature in a world of blue and white. Behind me the cliffs rose up, powerful in their majesty and ancient, and wise. I lowered my head in respect to them. As I lifted my eyes from reverence the sun crested the cliffs and sparkled through the mist creating a spectrum of colors and beauty, that I, all these many years later have yet to see again.
This was where it all started, so long ago. In the valley, amidst the trees and the cliffs in a world where time was not yet born and death only meant rebirth... here is where it all began.
I was young then and innocent and content, because all that I knew was mine and I longed for nothing...I was not alone because I did not know that I was alone...
It was going to rain. I could smell it in the air, that crisp odor, that always precedes a violent storm, it would be beautiful, I could feel it! It stormed often in the rainy season in the range beyond the lagoon where I was born. The wind blew with a force that shook the mountains that dotted the horizon and lightning flashed down to kiss the vast plains and light the grasses ablaze... it was terrible, in its beauty.

I lounged amidst a mass or boulders that interrupted the endless seas of grass, I feared nothing and was calm in my naive belief that nothing could harm me. My eyes were half slits as I languidly watched a herd of gazelle graze, watched the plains dance in the breeze.
Across from me a shapeless mass wove through the dried honey color grass. If I hadn’t seen the sun gleam in her eyes, even I would not have know that the lioness was ever there. Now that I had seen her, I followed her movements. She may have been able to hide from the herd of gazelle grazing in the plains before her, but she could not hide from me. She was on the hunt, I could see the desperation in ho mao make a kill before the lightning caught the grasses on fire and scorched away all of her hunting grounds.
As I watched one of the older gazelle, a great old man with horns two and a half feet long that could pierce the flesh of unwitting predators, turned toward her and lifted his head to test the breeze. He had caught her scent. Almost faster then the eyes could follow he turned and gave flight. His cry of warning moved the herd instantly. Where mere moments before there had been a herd of placid grazers there was now a river of hoofed and horned animals running in fear and anger.
As I watched on, the lioness made her move, knowing that it was now or never. She charged blindly at the herd, in a desperate attempt to cull a weaker or younger gazelle from the herd. Her efforts were soon rewarded, a weaker animal, slower then the rest fell behind. And then, from nowhere, a second lioness sprang! She had been waiting for her sister to separate out the weakest member, waiting unseen in the tall grass. The chase fell then to the second lioness. I watched from my rocky throne a dance that I had seen a thousand times be, te, the gazelle lead and the lioness followed. He leapt and turned, dodged and bound in a speed that was nearly unbelievable, but in the end, the lioness inevitably overcame him. He went down in a flash, his last scream cut short by her razor fangs, always true to the mark. My own fangs ached as she bite down, severing flesh and muscle alike, oh, how I missed the hunt! But my belly was full, and I did not kill just for the sake of killing, I was not a mindless dog, no unthinking killer.
The gazelle herd had stopped running, they knew that now with the lionesses fangs bloodied, they were safe.
A gentle ran began to fall, evaporation before it hit the ground, blanketing the savannah in a mist, as if trying to shelter it from the torrential downpours that were fast approaching. My lions had gone, taking their kill back to their pride leaving me alone with the gazelle.
After a time, I tired of the gazelle and to turned to go home. The rain was picking up and the temperature was dropping. I did not like the cold, and in my youth it slowed me down. My scales did not shine and my heartbeat slowed without the sun to warm it. Like the great serpents, now long gone, that I most closely resembled, I was a creature ruled by the sun and her rays. As I aged, this would pass, but back then I desired nothing more then to return my cave, deep beneath the lagoon of my birth and sleep out the remainder of the rainy season... but it was not to be.
It was then, just as the lightening raged and tore up the sky, that I first saw them. Had I not turned my head to avoid the lightning, I would never have seen them. There were only a few of them. What drew my attention was not the cowering creatures, pathetic in size, hairless and fangless, but rather the pack of triarels that was preying upon them. I had chased those monstrous wild dogs out of my range before, and they had dared to return! I had been merciful and not slaughtered them, and they had the gall to return to my hunting grounds! Caring not for the beings that they preyed upon, but rather my wounded pride, I ignored the storm and moved upon the triarels.

They had encircled their helpless prey, but the cruel creatures they were had drawn out the kill tormenting the poor animals they intended to slaughter. I moved, and they knew not what hit them. With one slash of my razor sharp claws the leader of the triarel pack had fallen, his throat neatly ripped through. In mer seconds four more were down, their fangs and claws useless against me. I was to fast, I coiled about them and cut off their retreat. I had been merciful once before, but not again. The few that remained turned to face me. Their cobalt fur bristled and they bared their fangs at me, dripping red, the life of the prey they had tormented. I rose up out of the darkness and their growls turned to whimpers of terror, for I was truly monstrous. Out of the mist and the darkness of the storm I towered. My scales glistened and my eyes blazed. My claws, sharp enough to cut stone, gleaned.
It was over almost before it had begun. The rain had picked up and the wind ragged over the savanna, looking one last time at the carcases of the dark creatures, left for the vultures and other scavengers, I turned to go. As sound, faint and muffled drew back my attention and I saw the creatures that I had saved. In my fury over the triarels I had forgotten about their strange prey.
Before me was a creature I had never before scene. It was hairless and had no visible claws or fangs. Small soft looking creatures, they had clothed themselves in the skins of other animals. Upon their dark flesh they had smudged dried white clay in whirls and rings. They carried with them sharpened sticks and carved stones and looking up at me there eyes where filled with terrorI loI looked down upon them, then trying to calm their fears I open my jaws in what I thought to be a friendly manner. It was all the traumatized creatures could stand. Shrieking in fear the fled. Out into the wild grasses they ran and I did not follow. What strange, sad creatures I had thought, so weak and small, how would they ever survive? I would not see their kind again for a long while, and had I known then what I know now, I would have left the to the fangs of the triarels.

Ten thousand years later...
The world has changed. Species that had once numbered in the tens of millions are gone. The tiarels, my old enemies, had vanished long ago in their place came the packs of wild dogs and prides of great cats. The great gazelle, whose herds had blanketed the savanna in numbers beyond count are too gone, replaced by their smaller, weaker kin. But I had remained. In the long years I had grown, in both size and wisdom. I had learned patience and compassion, and fear.
For a while I had forgotten about them. How I wish I had left them to their fate, but it was too late. I had saved the first of their kind so long ago and the past can not be changed. For while I had forgotten them, they had never forgotten me.
After a time I encountered them once agian. They were not the same weak creatures that I had first seen, they had changed, and I watched them grow. I watched as they came out of the forest and built their cs. s. I watched them carve civilizations from the forest, build monuments to their mastery over nature, and I watched those monuments crumble, and be reclaimed by the forest that birthed them. But still they grew. Their numbers increased till they surpassed the herds of gazelles, and they spread, like a fire in the grass, over the earth. I watched and I felt sorrow. Then they came for me. I had been passed down in tales through the ages as monster, a demon of the darkness. They hunted me with a hatred that I had never before seen.
I have returned to my lagoon, the place of my birth, so long ago. It had, like I, survived through the ages. The forest still encircled it lovingly, and the cliffs still rose to cradle it. Birds of exquisite beauty sang in the fruit trees surrounding the lagoon, and thousands of unseen eyes watched. The reeds and lilies that covered the crystal surface of the lagoon parted for me. The water cooled and comforted me. I drifted and sun passed over head, time slipped slowly away. My blood mingled with the water, telling a story older then time, of nations that had risen and crumbled, of life and death and joy. Of creatures long gone, and beauty beyond compare. I closed my eyes, and felt the sun upon me and the waters around me.
Out of the plains a breeze made the grasses dance and a gazelle lifted his head to test the wind.