"Our Forlorn Fathers" is an epic chronicle written by Seraphis, which records the history of the True Dragons and their lasting legacy.
Prologue
In the dawn of the world, when stars were young and the Prime Plane still bore the shimmering touch of divine creation, the True Dragon descended as celestial heralds, sculpted by Unknown, the god of life. These were not mere beasts of wing and flame; they were avatars of the elements, divine guardians tasked with preserving the sanctity of creation.
But as divine intent met mortal ambition, harmony crumbled. This is their lament—the rise of the dragons, their betrayal, and their enduring legacy carried in the bloodlines of their forsaken kin, the dragonborn.
Chapter I: Heralds of The Heavens
The True Dragons were sculpted not by chance but by purpose. Each dragon bore the essence of creation, their forms infused with the boundless energy of the elements:
- Solar Drake: Radiant beings of celestial fire, their breath seeded life across barren lands, and their warmth nurtured the first flourishing ecosystems.
- Aether Drake: Ethereal guardians of magic and air, whose flight carved the pathways of the Riftways that connected the planes.
- Terran Drake: Titans of earth, their strength shaped mountains and valleys, bringing form and balance to the world.
- Dragon Turtle: Ancient leviathans of the sea, whose wisdom moved tides and whose shells carried the oceans’ secrets.
They were stewards, protectors, and shepherds, living embodiments of balance. To the mortal races, they were divine emissaries, revered as manifestations of Helios’ will.
Chapter II: The Roars of Reverence
Mimicking their own creation, the True Dragon created the first species of Elf to preserve the elemental realms upon the Prime Plane. For countless ages, the dragons guided the mortal races with benevolence. To the Vanir, the Aether Drakes gifted mastery over Ether-Rifting, teaching them the delicate dance of the Ether. The Solir were bestowed Sun-Rifting from the Solar Drake, whose golden radiance mirrored the brilliance of the sun. The Njordir, molded by the Terran Drake, inherited resilience and mastery over earth and stone through Earth-Rifting. Beneath the waves, the Unknown, shaped by the Dragon Turtle, flourished in their sacred city of Atla, a sanctum of Water-Rifting and beacon of peace beneath the tides.
In this harmony, the mortal races thrived. The dragons, asking only reverence, watched as their creation unfolded with admiration.
Chapter III: The Shadow of Ambition
But peace is fragile, and reverence can sour into resentment. As the centuries turned, the elves grew restless. Their mastery of the arcane arts, taught to them by the dragons, ignited a dangerous ambition. Why bow their heads to the dragons, they wondered, when they could ascend to divinity themselves?
The elves, wielding Rift Magic derived from the True Dragons teachings, sought to transcend mortality. They envisioned a world not governed by balance but by their own design—a world where their will was law.
Their betrayal began as all do, with whispers and shadows. Slowly, they turned the tools given to them by their draconic mentors into weapons. Elemental forces that once wove harmony now became instruments of war.
Among the Vanir, a festering disease grew, stoked by whispers of malice. The Cult of Infinitum, founded by Malekith, sowed discord among the high elves. Its followers, granted glimpses of the fractured Infinity Shards, were driven mad by visions of forbidden power.
Rumors are quick to spread and news travelled fast during the third age. Eventually, the elves turned their knowledge of Rift Magic, into a weapon. Guided by their boundless ambition, they sought not balance but supremacy. The seeds of rebellion were sown in arrogance and nurtured in blood.
Chapter IV: The Riftfire Rebellion
The rebellion erupted as a cataclysm, tearing apart the fragile harmony. The Vanir led the charge in all their hubris, with Rift Magic twisted into destructive power. Entire forests burned, mountains crumbled, and the heavens wept as the elves turned their might against the very beings who had nurtured them.
One by one, the True Dragon fell as their radiance became extinguished by flames of war. Those who survived were cursed and turned into the various species of Lesser Dragon that now inhabit the Prime Plane.
The Aesir faced a different fate. Their guardians, the Dragon Turtles, did not fall to rebellion but to the World Eater Serpent, a Revenant Titan born of chaos. It descended upon The Sea Realm in an apocalyptic frenzy, driving the Aesir to the brink of extinction.
As the rebellion raged, the True Dragons were scattered. Some sought refuge in the furthest corners of the world; others, too wounded to endure, fell into an eternal slumber, leaving the world bereft of their guidance.
Chapter V: Our Forlorn Fathers
The surviving dragons withdrew, their forms diminished but their legacy enduring. Some, in their sorrow, took mortal guise and lived among the races they had once protected. In rare moments of connection, bonds were formed between dragons and mortals, giving rise to the Dragonborn.
The dragonborn were children of exile, inheritors of the strength and tragedy of their ancestors. Cast out by the very races who had betrayed the True Dragons, they became wanderers and warriors, forging a path of resilience in an unforgiving world.
They did not revere their draconic ancestors as saviors, for the dragons had vanished when they were needed most. But they carried their strength with pride, a testament to the greatness of their Forlorn Fathers.
Epilogue: Echoes of Eternity
The tale of the True Dragons is a stark reminder of the cost of ambition unchecked. The elves, influenced by the shadow of Malekith, shattered a divine order that had preserved balance for ages.
Yet the legacy of the dragons endures. The Lesser Dragon scorn the mortal species of the world for their accursed existence. The Dragonborn, hardened by trial and exile, walk the world as living echoes of their ancestors.
Let the story of the True Dragons be a guide—a reminder that the gifts of creation are not to be wielded carelessly, and that misguided ambition often leads to ruin.
Though the True Dragons have vanished, their memory lingers.
May we remember their story not as a tale of loss, but as a beacon of wisdom. The True Dragons were not mere creatures; they were the stewards of creation, molded by Helios’ divine hand.
“Through forlorn flames and ancient ashes, their legacy endures in the eternal embers. May their memory be a shield against the folly of ambition and a torch to guide the path of reverence.” - Seraphis