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Chapter One, the Dragon's Curse
The Dracorians are an ancient race. Half human, half
dragon, creatures of magic, they have ruled Mortraine since time began with
the power of the Orb. Or so say the people of Mortraine. Despite their half
human nature, the Dracorian hearts beat in time with their Dragon dreams, full
of fire and sometimes .....destruction.
Dracoria, and thus Mortraine had been ruled for the last
1000 years by Bendal. A fierce ruler, he had finally died of old age,
leaving the throne to his daughter, Mendalia. Newly come into her power, she
had yet to master the power of the Orb of Mortraine. The human wizard,
Michael, though young, was the most powerful of his kind in a thousand years.
Michael knew this was his best chance to recover the Orb from the Dracorians,
before Mendalia had been crowned Queen of Dracoria and had a chance to
grow stronger. The Orb held such magic, that it had allowed the
Dracorians to rule Mortraine for several generations. With the Orb in the
hands in the humans, the reign of the Dracorians would be over.
It was a fierce some battle. They fought for days,
magic against magic, for ownership of the Orb of Mortraine. The earth
shook and storms raged across the land in response to the magic unleashed
between these two powerful forces. Mages from both races, lent their power and
any available magic to their chosen defender in hopes of tipping the balance
in their favor. But finally, the human weakened. Mendalia threw Michael
into the abyss, but not before he had time to curse her...and oh, what a
curse. She told no one of his last words, but weakened, battle scarred,
tremendously weary, she returned to the palace to take her rightful place upon
the
throne, there to rule not only Dracoria, but all of Mortraine.
It is now the coronation of Mendalia. The Dracorians are
gathered in celebration, with much feasting and gaming, exhilarated that
their Queen has proven her leadership ability and saved the Orb from the
humans. As the time nears for the coronation, Mendalia approaches the throne.
Despite her ceremonial garb, there are still signs of the battle she has
fought, with blackened and torn wings, a stiffness in her walk that has
never been seen before on a Dracorian. She won the battle but not without
price. Still, the people rejoice. There will be no other strong enough to
challenge her, they are safe.
Mendalia's councilors are concerned though. Tired,
battle weary, scarred, they expected to see signs of this. However, where is
the triumph that should be shining in her eyes? There is something wrong with
the Queen of Dracoria.
For Mendalia has not shared her secret with anyone, this
curse, laid upon her with the last words of Michael. She knew the awesome
power held in a curse of the dying. She had been troubled and angry since
returning to the palace. Michael's curse would be the end of her line, for his
curse would assure that she would never mate and produce heirs to her throne.
For his curse was that she would love passionately and be loved in return. A
love so powerful, so legendary that it would threaten her life, her power, her
people. For this love would be for...
a human.
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