"The cycle of life has begun."

Drung spoke into the Wu Province; the Dragon King turned his malevolent gaze toward the swirling sable clouds forming in the distance; hellfire could be seen in the eye of the storm. His servants waited reverently for his following words, clinging to each one as though their lives depended on it.

"Soon, the hatchlings will hatch and maybe one of the.... Nah."

He withdrew from his open balcony, returning to the grand throne that was carved in resemblance to the mortal kings he had once met and taking a liking to their style. Now, he laughed at the pitiful castle, shortsighted humans, content with only the luxuries of life in such small palaces.

"Pain... Agony... Wu's hatred burns through the cavernous deeps. The world heaves with its torment. Its wretched vermin quake beneath its rage. But soon... The hatchlings will either break or thrive... And soon, they all will burn the world beneath the shadow of their wings."

The first red raindrops fell from the sky, the sizzling precipitation wetting the volcanological lands with life, yet corrupting and burning the ground with its flames going everywhere, even towards the hatchery.

Settling onto his massive throne, Drung finally addressed his servants gathered before him: the Ten Great Wyrms, the Elder Dragons, and even the Lesser Dragons like wyverns. They were all below his station. But, of course, they were. To them, he was their master. To them, he was their god.

And their god is bored with this ceremony.

"The Fire of Life will reach the hatchlings, and only the strong will survive. "

The Dragons stirred at his speech, which he had delivered a thousand times before. Yet, they treated it with the same awe and fear they did when they first heard it. It wasn't enjoyable if anyone asked him.

The hellish fire storm was now violently raging on, almost as if prefiguring what was to come. The Dragon King ignored it, focusing only on what had to be done. The halls darken as the fires raged, casting the room into a blood-red hue resembling the heart of Drung's very soul.

"Find the ones that live through the calling, bring them to my demesne, for all who obeys my will shall be rewarded."

His servants bowed their heads respectfully before departing, each one leaving a trail of black smoke behind them. The remaining few, who were too afraid to leave, stayed rooted in place.

"My lord, may we ask—"

Drung let out a harsh laugh that sent shivers down his servants' spines. "No, you may not."

With that, the giant doors slammed shut, shutting out the light of day and sealing away the terrified lesser beings he calls his council. In the darkness, the Dragon King waited for hatchlings to hatch...

All it will take is 100 years.

He wonders if one of those hatchlings will someday grow and challenge him? Drung hopes as it gets boring, never getting challengers anymore.

As the fires ended and the final stage of Dragon birthing began, the dark clouds above faded away; a blanket of the ash-covered the land. And out from the ashes, a survivor came into existence.

Gazei was born.