The next year proceeded quickly, with a certain hatchling finally understanding the trick of the doors latch and making her departure, several designs followed before someone eventually started barring the door whenever the hatchlings were by themselves, even that proved insufficient as she just used the bone tools she's fashioned for the door to lift the bar through a crack. Korse found himself yet again employing Elder Bolst to hinder a certain wayward hatchling, the old trapper finding the situation both hilarious and promising, Kora is one of his best after all.
The Culling has proceeded at an unexpectedly low rate, with 32 surviving their second year, generally there are not many more to fall to sickness, injury, or accident from here on, leaving this the largest single clutch out of all the clan’s hatcheries. Under 50% is near unprecedented.
With the door defeated, Korse has again grown to fear the unexpected grasping of his tail by the now larger, but still smallest of her clutch, hatchling and the utterance of "Why?" that surely follows. The only times he is guaranteed peace is when the Matrons are there for her lessons, they've moved on to more interesting topics like numbers and how to make tools and daily necessities and are managing to keep the little one’s attention for the time being. Korse has mostly made up his mind on the pick of his clutch for this year, if nothing unfortunate happens.
Today the Matrons were to tell another story from the history of the Clan to the hatchlings, the darkest day of their history, and Korse did not want to be there for the retelling, he could only listen to the tale so many times and he'd been hearing it for all his years in the hatchery. They always tell this story before their third-year ends, so that they can go into their apprenticeships knowing what the clan lost those centuries ago, why their lives feel incomplete, and they trade with the lowly humans instead of giving freely to their kin.
"Good morning hatchlings, Elder Kles will be joining us again today for the telling of an important tale, something that though centuries past still affects our Clan, and all the Clans, to this day." Matron Rels introduces the aged elder joining her again, Kles takes over the space reserved for teaching and most of the hatchlings quickly congregate, knowing her lessons are both important and tales of wonder and Dragons.
"Now, what I have to tell you about today is not a tale of greatness like our origin, nor of fancy like those of the Drakkiri. No, today I am here to tell you about the end of an era, the darkest day in our long history, and one that changed the very shape of the world of Icara. Today I am here to tell you about The Night of the Blood Skies."
Small gasps can be heard amongst many of the young Kobolds, they have heard the name many times, and a certain inquisitive little girl has asked of it repeatedly, it is the one story she could never get any hints or pieces out of Korse or the minders. The one question that was always met with a 'When you're older', she was practically vibrating in anticipation of finally hearing the tale denied to her. Her siblings on the other hand, they could see the looks on the Matron's faces, could see the apprehension and displeasure, they took no joy in telling this tale and the rest of the clutch reflected this somber attitude a little better.
"This tale begins years before that fateful night, our patron and the other Great Dragons sent us Kobolds out around the world, to gather things they had never needed before, oils and woods, gems, and metals, even bones and blood, for a great working the Matriarch bade them, and thus us, to gather these things. We did our duty faithfully, a fact many now wish we had not, but what could we do but fulfill the Great Dragon's wishes, for that is, was, our reason for being." Matron Kles shakes her head, disappointment and loss clear upon her scales. Whether that disappointment was in their ancestors completing their task, or in those suggesting that they should have denied their patrons, cannot be told by her little audience.
"Years passed and we continued to delve and dig, stone and metals, precious and mundane, were sent back to our homeland. While our cousins built and toiled, conceived and created, all to the grand design of the Matriarch. All those things we gathered were crafted and shaped by our cousins, some abroad while the materials were fresh, most back home, building great rings and designs upon the earth and even in the skies surrounding and covering her great citadel."
A feat seldom achieved, the young hatchlings all stared in rapt attention, not even a peep of a question from them, even the young girl who could always be counted on to ask something at any possible pause.
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"Her plan unknown to us, but unneeded. Until one day, it was done. The Matriarch recalled all of her kin, all of the Great Dragons and even the whole of their progeny, from all across Icara they were called to her great palace, built upon the highest peak of the tallest mountains upon her lands. We Kobolds remained spread out, as did what few of our cousins of the Drakkiri who had left the homeland, as what came next was a task for the Dragons alone."
"Before I tell you of this great task you must understand another fact of our world, one that aside from this single instance is meaningless to our lives, but on that day became the only thing that truly mattered. As I have told you once before, our world, Icara, is sealed. The god of man, the Radiant, has decreed it so, and all who violate this commandment shall face divine wrath. In his arrogance even the dragons who could abide the commands of none but their great mother, the Matriarch, were subject to this restriction" Kles speaks of this god of man with disdain, as it had the gall to impose its will upon the Great Dragons.
"We know now through the pieces left behind and years of divinations and communions with the spirits, that the great work was indeed a means to not leave this world, but bring the Matriarchs brethren, those left to the whims of war in ancient past, to her shores for succor. Our brethren and our cousins of the Drakkiri were able to put enough of the pieces together to learn that much.
Her intentions were noble, but the results, catastrophic. None know what truly occurred that night, as none were ever found who could tell the tale, what we do know, and why we call it the Night of the Blood Skies, is that the whole world over a sanguine glow permeated the skies from the direction of our former home and a great roar of the earth and shaking of the world did follow. This glow lasted a full day and lit the night as though it were daylight in its bloody hue.
A storm covered Anazul's Clutch for weeks, battering ships and disrupting magics, when it finally cleared the entire continent of Anazul's Clutch had been scoured to stone and sand." tears stream down both Rels and Kles' faces as they conclude this portion of the story, the loss of the dragons still hanging heavy over them, even though they were both too young by centuries to have ever seen the Great Dragons.
"Our ancestors debated long with our Drakkiri cousins, to return to our home and search the now desolate lands, to find some trace of Dragon kind, but as we still teach today, we are creatures of the earth, we gather and provide, exploration and discovery are not within our nature and so we chose to remain, to live as we have always lived. To dig and delve, to gather and procure, though we found ourselves with no one to provide the harvest of our toils, we turned to trade with the humans nearby.
Our cousins could not abide such a course, they left bit by bit, clan by clan, until there were none remaining outside the shores of Anazul, there they could be found for years and years to follow, frequently sending news of their search, requesting supplies and provisions which we gladly provided, but contact dwindled. Until not even a century after we lost our patrons, we lost too our cousins, leaving Kobolds alone upon this world, the only draconic heritage to remain."
"Matron Rels, I find myself wearied from the telling, could you conclude our lesson while I sit for a moment?" the elderly Kobold looking slightly unsteadied, the tale always taking a toll on her mind.
"Of course, Elder, gladly" As Kles steps aside and finds a space upon the floor to be seated, a small Kobold approaches, tugs her tail, smiles and sits alongside her, oddly silent for this particular hatchling. Kles gives her a pat upon the head and a sad smile as Rels begins her conclusion of the lesson.
"We have learned much since the Drakkiri left for the shores of home, that they built ports upon the coasts of the continent now commonly referred to by the surface dwellers as The Desolate, and welcomed all who wished to explore those lands and find the truth of that dreadful night into their cities. This continued for decades, and the cities still stand to this day as little more than shipping ports and hubs for the adventurous to gather and depart from. But slowly, over years and decades the number of Drakkiri dwindled, some claim that one by one they wandered into the desolate wastes never to return, some say it was a mass exodus, and others that they ended their own lives, though we dismiss such musings as the ignorance of man, we could not ever believe anyone bearing the heritage of the Dragons would do as such"
"All we can say for certain is that they departed from their cities and were never seen again, where they went and why they did so was something they never told us, had they found some trace of the Great Dragons we are sure they would not have left us behind, so ultimately, we remain in our own ignorance." Rels clears her throat and looks across the pupils, some remain taken by the somber mood, some nearing the end of what attention span they can muster and glancing about for something to occupy themselves.
"I believe that this is a good time to end our lessons for the day, think upon what we have imparted today, what it means to be a Kobold left behind in this world and our role in it. What it means to be the sole bearers of the true draconic lineage upon Icara. And how our prudence in living as we always have has kept us here, to this day, instead of chasing the past and becoming one with it like our dear cousins."
