When we were young, we believed. In myths, in legends, in stories beyond the wildest imagination of the best story teller in the world. Tomorrow always held surprises, new stories, and new worlds for our imaginations to explore. Everything began with 'Once upon a time' and ended with 'Happily ever after.' We lived in a land where we all owned pet tyrannosaurus rexes, maybe a few dragons, a sword that rivaled Excalibur and faeries and pixies, who just happened to make great playmates. Fae food for some reason always seemed to be so much better than your average meal, and who needs an adult to talk sense to, when you could have a talking lion?
But time passed us by. And things changed. We grew up, much to Peter Pan's dismay. And things became what they would never become if we believed. Things became boring.
Reading became insipidly real, about average people with average lives. And what was worse, we enjoyed that much more that the fantastical tales that our imagination was too jaded to believe in anymore. Sadly, logic won over happy oblivion, sense won over nonsensical fun, and reason straightened what a wild imagination had 'undone'.
The mysticism behind folklore was lost somewhere in the sands of time and the belief that our ancestors were 'ignorant' became unusually, and unfairly rampant. Wisdom no longer dwelled on what was a myth. Wisdom was what you knew, what you had experienced and what you could reason. Life was no longer about what could be, but what should be.
Fear came from superstition. And soon, everything strange became strange and evil.
And then, one day, they began to burn witches. It wasn't fair, any of it. Hundreds of women, dragged out from their homes, burned alive on a crucifix. For they lived in a time, where different was dangerous. Where being a woman, if you hadn't a husband, or child, you should either find one, or die for being a whore.
Not much has changed since then. We still live in a time where different
is dangerous. And danger makes us ignorant to what may be right in front of us.
But our story is not about the ignorance of man, or how he has suffered.
Our story is about what he has ignored.
For you see, 65 million years ago, when the meteor destroyed the dinosaurs, there were other things, other, more sinister
and more beautiful things that were created in the process. Our world
is a beautiful and magical place.
65 million years ago, magic was born. And yes, even then, it was born to no pomp, no celebration
but then, no natural, untouched things are. It crept away softly from the meteor of its birth and into the first organism it found. An amoeba. And slowly, it began to multiply. As it rose over the dead carcasses and the fire, inevitably dodging, and escaping ruination, it multiplied, until there were thousands like it
and then millions
and slowly, they began to develop from the single celled organisms that they were to the multiple that slowly formed creatures.
And the first of the creatures that came into existence were quite like the dinosaurs themselves, for they imbibed from the carcasses, from the environment, from the scent of what was gone. Dragons.
From their healing blood, to their fire breathing breath, dragons ruled the world first. The new dawn of time, thus, welcomed a world of ingenuity under our new flying monarchs.
A world of magic.