Legends of Belariath
Cynvalas-Avernus
Abomination
For eons, before the dawn of humanity, before the complex structure of the Empire had been brought into existence. They were there. Drak Sen, a species created entirely in the image of their creators. Dragons. They were meant to be Watchers. To simply study various things around them. To return with information that may prove of use to their Mothers and Fathers. This was their purpose. Their sole reason of existence. Only recently, have they been given the opportunity to forge their own paths. To weave and create their own destiny, to physically react, and experience things they've only been allowed to witness before. The chance to grow, to become more.. While still revering their draconic Gods..
This, is the beginnings of one particular Drak Sen. Bestowed, and given the foreboding information regarding his dark destiny. Already foretold, to become the most brutal of all his brethren. This is but the beginings, of his sinister tale..
The ragged catboy's body lay within a pool of it's own blood. Stained, nearly head to toe in the wet, coppery vitae. Unconscious. Or, was he dead. Hard to discern with. He hadn't moved in hours. His lungs, evidently, were no longer inhaling sweet, requisite oxygen. But no, he was not dead. However, neither was he technically alive. He exissted. His very soul had been deprived of him, snatched, in the aftermath of his torture. Within the very crevisces ofo the earth, deep underneath where mortals and immortals alike walked. Directly before the battered, rag-doll body, was the Dragon..
Monstrous. Easily could it be compared to the greatest of mountains. It's sardonic beauty, rivaling the flow of the most lovely river. It's obsidion body, gleamed of sanguine scales, glinting dimly within the minute lighting. It's omni-potent gaze, stared down towards the broken creature. Utterly useless, undeserviing of his mercy. Given, as mandatory sacrifice. Why did he not devour him? Crush him under the weight of one talon. There were no others, within the subterranean - Simply Dragon and catling.
He had been warned against it, the Dragon, who'se name is unpronouncable in common, or any language used by those Above. However, bestowed with the title, ' Avernus ', by the mortals whom revered him. He'd een told, to re-create life, instead of simply creating, would disrupt their Order, or the natural flow of their process. The other Dragons of the Under-Surface, had warned, and their words Avernus remembered..
"What you will do, Avernus.. Is create Abomination. He will become uncontrollable. You will not be able to attain power over his actions. In time, he will grow apart from you. He will disobey you. It can NOT be tolerated. His existence will result in the end of our children."
Words spoken, warnings given, however, they'd been ignored. Fell upon deaf ears. Noone, would tell him what he could, and could not do. He was Avernus - One of the mightiest creatures still existing within the world. He would re-create this being, he whom deserved it least. He'd be made, perfect. His own cruelty would be passed, his malicious brutality. He'd be his link to the Surface.
Without touch, or push from the Dragon, the boy's body began to float upwards, limbs dangling lifelessly aside him. It's hair, too, simply flailing about. A mere though, and the catling was flung forward, hurled directly into the depths of gathered water. The body of water, was nearly as dark as the Dragon itself. Avernus watched, as the small body sunk, deeper and deeper, before eventually, he was no longer seen. He remained there, for a small amount of time afterwords. He left soon, however, leaving the boy behind. To fester in the water of his hatred. The seed of his Abomination planted, and now, he'd wait for it to blossom.
Exactly how long he remained there, is unknown. For years. For centuries. For eons. Simply within the water, swirling, his body still lifeless, floating aimlessly within the black water's vile depths. His mind, however, wracking. Nightmares plagued him. Visions of death. Of bloodshed. Gorey battles that transgressed for hours, days. Famines. Starved bodies. Helpless women being raped, dominated by unseen faces. It was within this water, that his lust for brutality festered. His insatiable appetite for sexuality, first grew. The time passed without ceasation. The feline, belived for dead. Perhaps he was. Even his own mind, now twisted to the point of insanity, believed it's body had perished..
Until, his eyes opened..
Avernus had returned, in perfect timing for the visual rebirth of his child. His seed, to be planted within the world. His personal sin. He watched the water begin to ripple violently, indicating movement underneath. The catling was alive. His gaze, which seemed darker then the clearest night sky, focused, waiting. Never before, had the ageless Dragon felt such anticipation. Such pride. He gazed, as finally, a ragged arm thrust upwards from within the water. Claws were seen, gripping the edge of land, attempting to hoise the rest of it's slim frame upwards. Finally, when half of the newly created sentient's body was extracted from the lake, its head would crane upwards, dripping of moisture. Terror was palatable, visible etched upon deark features. It's vision, which now consitsted of little more than twin, pitch-black slits, widened. Never before had he seen a Dragon.
It's mouth opened, it's teeeth, resembling rows of sharp lances. The first sounds, other then his own irregular, heavy breathing, heard. It's voice. Terrible and horrendous. When he heard the words it spoke, he knew, his life had changed. For the better, for the worst, remained to be seen. Everything was different, now..
"Hello, Cynvalas. We've much to discuss, you and I.."