------------- Chronicles of the King – Casiodontis

In all beginnings there is uncertainty. Will events transpire to the good of all, or will base human nature overcome? Who tells the tale, and what is his interest so that we may know his mind, and thus its impact on the telling? Know then that I am the Chronicler of Prince Adamar of Hellenia, Casiodontis of Lurrianne. I am but a young Dragommage, a student of the Dragodome of Sancrist. It is there I was instructed in all things Draconian, and through happenstance, met my lifelong friend, Prince Adamar Dranalas, my future King. It is also there that I was joined with my soul mate and guardian, Saerogwian, my dragon.

Let it be known that I was born with the mark. For only those born to the shared life of a Dragomage have the mark. It is bestowed by the Gods, and mine came from Bahamut Himself. It has been the rebirth of the alliance between man and dragon in the last several decades that has prompted the Gods to call us to our destinies. The mark identifies us. It guides us, compels us, and protects us. In fullness of time, once we are joined, it is our badge of office and the conduit through which our dragon’s energy flows.

Beyond my life as Dragonmage, there is little to tell. I had a strange childhood, raised with the knowledge of my future life. I suspect such weighty responsibility heaped upon a child barely able to speak is the curse of all those whom are destined. I saw much the same weight upon the shoulders of the Prince when first we met. There were many of us at Dragodrome: Dragonmages, Dragonwarriors and the pinnacle of the obelisk, the Dragonmasters. For many years, there was little comingling of the schools. The Mages were kept to their studies. The Rangers spent time with the drakes. And the Dragonmasters were sequestered to the temple. In our fifth year, we were brought together in common classes. I was thirteen at the time. That is when I met Prince Adamar.

Five more years we studied and perfected the art. Many were eliminated, but mostly from the ranks of Dragonwarriors and Dragonmasters. Those born with the mark, such as I, had no place else to go, and no other fate that would have us. It is easy enough for a Dragonwarrior to recant, or a Dragonmaster to lose the resolve and dedication needed to complete the arduous draconian trek, but a Dragonmage is born to his task. I could no more lose my way along the journey than I could slay my own dragon.

------------- Credits

------------- Thanks and please comment.