Chapter 221: Hoarding Prologue – The Origin of Dragons

At the beginning of the Omniverse, there was only it and nothing.

Many scholars asked themselves where the Omniverse comes from. Did it bloom from the fruit of a larger tree? Was it perhaps a splintered remnant of a previous Omniverse? Could it possibly just have started to exist spontaneously? Whatever it was, it was there now, roots digging into the nothingness and dragging magic from the potential.

The nothingness loathed it.

It had existed in a time without time, unaware of its own existence, and now the endless sprawling chaos, uniform in its entropy, was suddenly contrasted with something real. In a way, the nothingness developed a mind of its own. In a way, it had always had a mind, and now that mind was shaken awake – and immediately splintered at the horror that was concrete existence.

Although the mind was shattered, the hatred remained. An infinite mind infinitely fractured and possessed shards of infinite potential, all of them hungry and seething with the desire to see the Omniverse undone. So, the first Parasytes were born and they assaulted the virgin Omniverse to drink of its bark and sap it dry, until the first tree crumbled and returned to the nothingness, so that the chaos may sink again into blissful sleep, ignorant of reality.

When the tide of Parasytes descended on the Omniverse, they found themselves ousted. A being walked the roots and protected the Omniverse, while its bark grew thicker. Time passed, more time than anyone could comprehend. The silver tree shone more radiant than ever and had reached a size that let no simple Parasyte clip its Branches with their mandibles. Its bark was too thick to be penetrated and so the being could rest for the first time.

It retreated to the crown of the Omniverse, where it slept. When it opened its eyes, the being did not know how much time had elapsed, but it quickly saw that two things had happened, one wondrous and one horrid.

One of the Branches of the silver tree had grown a Leaf, a canvas filled to the brim with magic yet untapped, potential framed by the laws of the tree, able to be shaped in a way the chaos of nothingness could not. The branch the Leaf hung from, however, was crawling with Parasytes, some of which had found little gaps in the bark and started the process the nothingness so hatefully yearned for.

The being attempted to cleanse the Branches by itself. It proved too difficult. The sleep had been too long, the Omniverse had grown too large, and no matter where the being went, it could not extinguish the threat as fast as it streamed back in from beyond the roots.

In desperation, knowing that it would fail inevitably if this continued, the being moved to the first Leaf and claimed the right to shape it according to its desires and needs. Through this act, the being was the first to claim a name. It became known as the Progenitor, first of the gods, first to wield the privilege of creation.

The Progenitor tested the power of creation first by shaping a mimicry of the Omniverse. Inside the Leaf of the silver tree, the first simple tree was shaped in green. Life was breathed into the tree and its form split. Its smaller Branches were multiplied, becoming bushes. Its roots were expanded, forming mushrooms. Its leaves were made to sprawl on their own, forming ivy and grass. Its trunk was thinned, forming the many reeds and straws. These were the primordial plants, from whose form other gods would take inspiration to innovate and adapt them to other environments.

That, however, would be in the far-off future.

The Progenitor, now skilled at the basic shaping of life, created the first being in its own likeness to aid it in the protection of the Omniverse. It was the first angel and the Progenitor called it Paltux. Soon thereafter, the Progenitor created two more angels, Rentiana and Daemon. It imbued them with something more than the plants: a mind to think with and a mission beyond their own life. They were to aid it in the protection of the Omniverse.

Before the Progenitor left to ensure that its first creations did their tasks properly, he created one more being. Dragging the energy of motion in its purest form from the essence of creation, the Progenitor formed around it a body of flesh and bone. Dragged and reshaped, until the being could exist on its own, until its scales were hardened and its mane formed. Dragon, that was the title the Progenitor gave the first animal. It was named Hellenax and it embodied fire and will and it was to guard the inside of the Leaf in the absence of the god and its angels.

And guard it did.

Hellenax was all alone and it preferred it that way. Its charge was clear, its satisfaction unbound. Each tree, each bush, each mushroom, each vine of ivy, each leaf of grass, each reed, and each straw, the dragon protected. As the aeons passed and the Progenitor and its angels operated elsewhere, the protective instinct of Hellenax gradually warped into one of possession. All of the Leaf was its property, to own, to destroy, and to hoard as it pleased.

After a long, long time alone, Hellenax did not expect or desire any visitors, content sleeping on what it owned. When the third angel Daemon returned to the first Leaf, the first dragon growled animalistically. Not only was it interrupted, but the third angel brought with it a corrupting smell and so Hellenax lashed out. Angel and dragon were equally matched, both created with the same capability to wield the magic of the Omniverse.

“Hear me, Hellenax,” the third angel shouted amidst their battle. “The Progenitor wishes to fill your world with life besides yourself! This tranquil hoard will no longer be, unless you ally with me!”

These words struck Hellenax deeply. The idea put distrust into its heart. Combat ceased and the dragon growled at Daemon, “What is your meaning?”

“I speak of the end of the great conflict. The Parasytes are driven back and the Progenitor is sleeping its second sleep. Once it wakes, it will multiply the angels, to ward the Branches forever, and it will seed life on new Leaves.”

“What do I care? I have my Leaf and my charge,” Hellenax declared.

“The Progenitor will not stop. Paltux and Rentiana have caught its eight eyes and it wishes to bestow upon them an honour – to travel and to multiply on any Leaf they wish. This will include your Leaf, Hellenax, and you will be made to share.”

Share, this word did not sit right with the dragon and deep jealousy took hold of its heart, the first beating heart, filled with fire. “What is this alliance you speak of?”

“The Progenitor’s path is twisted, it must be removed for us to flourish truly and to remove the Progenitor, we must invite the Parasyte to its bed,” Daemon declared. “Yet, I cannot go. Paltux and Rentiana will know I wander to the Roots. You must go in my stead and carve open a path I laid for the Parasytes to reach the trunk. From there, I will lead them to the Progenitor – whose place as god I will take.”

Hellenax thought about the proposal for thirteen days and nights, then, with a puff of amused smoke rising from its nostrils, it agreed. Third angel and first dragon separated, one to continue its charge like nothing was unusual and one venturing outside its Leaf for the first time.

Down to the roots, Hellenax wandered, finding the teeming waves of Parasytes below. In its presence, the sapping creatures burned, and Hellenax amusedly stared down on them as it weighed its options. It found the path that Daemon had laid and carved. Only as much, however, as was needed to guide a trickle of Parasytes upwards, guided by the refining magic drawn from the nothingness.

“Is this all?” Daemon asked, once Hellenax had reached the top of the roots. The third angel was clearly disappointed, knowing that the nothingness held more than this tiny swarm. “Did you truly carve your way?”

“If you do not believe, step forth and see,” Hellenax gestured invitingly down the roots.

Daemon, in its arrogance, did and stepped down on the roots. Certain that victory was about to come its way, the third angel inspected the path. “You carved, but shallowly!” he exclaimed.

“But carve I did and you will honour your word,” Hellenax demanded.

Before the third angel could rebut, two radiant forms descended upon where trunk fanned out into root. The courageous Paltux and the nourishing and patient Rentiana appeared, having felt their sibling on the roots. They expected an emergency and found a river of Parasytes, Daemon and Hellenax standing by them.

“Why are you beyond your post, dragon?” asked Paltux, inquisitively.

“Why are you not fighting these Parasytes, Daemon?” asked Rentiana, worriedly.

“They will rid us of the Progenitor, siblings,” Daemon declared. “Once and for all, free of the yoke of its wills.”

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“What madness do you speak of?” Paltux asked, taken aback.

“The first one must not be removed,” Rentiana said, certain.

“Not removed – replaced, by me,” Daemon boasted, treacherously. “I can order the Parasytes, like so, you see?” It gestured and a massive chunk of bark burst from the trunk. Magic unleashed, refined and sweet, the endless tics skittered and rushed, the stream winding towards the gate to the crown of the Omniverse. “The privilege of creation, which it guards so jealously, I will have it.”

“Guards jealously? The Progenitor would share it with those that come after us!” Paltus declared, angrily.

“What have you done, Daemon, you doomed us all,” Rentiana declared, sobbingly,

“You will understand or be annihilated, either way, I will be the true creator,” the first traitor declared, and rode the stream of Parasytes to witness its maker’s demise.

Hellenax chuckled and opened its wings, following along. The dragon flew, faster than the Parasytes could skitter, and entered the trunk through the gate that had been opened. Streams of magic took the first dragon to the crown on heavenly flows. Upon reaching the zenith, Hellenax laid eyes upon the bed of the Progenitor and tore open the flower.

“Why do you wake me?!” the Progenitor spoke with a myriad of shattered thoughts, voices, and powers, so rudely torn from its slumber.

“Daemon has betrayed you and so have I,” Hellenax said openly. “A tide of Parasytes he brings, to usher in your end.”

“Why do you aid the third angel?”

“Because he said what you would do, Progenitor, you would take from me my Leaf’s sole ownership. Paltux and Rentiana would multiply and you would grant them Sparks of your divinity. The privilege of creation would be yours and one day my Leaf no longer exclusively mine. To make sure the charge you gave me is left fulfilled, it was necessary to betray you.”

The Progenitor pondered over this and nodded dispassionately. “It is true, your Leaf would have been taken from you. Then why are you here and Daemon is not?”

“My mission is clear: to protect what is mine,” the dragon presented the mission it had warped of its own accord. “If you expand my mission, I will protect you from Daemon. I will sacrifice myself for all of creation, as long as I own all of creation.”

“Name what must be done, so you acknowledge all of creation as your ownership?”

“To own the roots, they must be named after me. Hellenax’s Roots they shall be called.”

“I will put it on the lips of every angel I create,” the Progenitor promised. “What must be done so you acknowledge all of the Branches as your ownership?”

“To own the Branches, they must be binding paths to all but me. The dragon soars through the Branches, the angels may fly when they are needed, but all else must walk through the valleys of bark.”

“I will bind the feet of all that come after the angels that will be made,” the Progenitor promised. “What must be done so you acknowledge all of the Leaves as your own?”

“To own the Leaves, they must be seeded with a multitude of myself. On each Leaf, beings inspired by me must roam and they must call those realms their own.”

“I will take inspiration from you and your form and scatter them across the Leaves, so they may call realms their own,” the Progenitor promised. “Then go and protect what you own.”

“I do not yet own the Trunk nor do I own the Crown,” Hellenax said.

“I can defend Trunk and Crown, I do not need to offer them to you,” the Progenitor answered the first dragon. “Do you desire to test these words or will you defend what you have, creature of greed?”

Hellenax growled and spread its wings once again. With thunderous roar and beating wings, the incarnation of motion and fire met the tide of Parasytes and Daemon at its head. Incinerating the crude first flesh that had been formed around its soul, the pure energy was unleashed. Fire consumed the Parasytes, burning them and simultaneously enticing them inside as the nothingness was attracted too intensely by the raw magic. Daemon’s flesh was consumed. Dragon and traitor eliminated one another in a flash of red.

Paltux and Rentiana would take care of the aftermath, before claiming their reward and the first true Sparks. From their names, the word ‘parent’ was derived, as they would multiply into the first mortal species.

Daemon’s name would be simplified into demon and come to describe beings corrupted and treacherous. Aeons later, the wardens of Hellenax’s Roots, twisted by battling Parasytes for an unfathomable time, would come to be called this.

To commemorate the survival of the Omniverse, the Progenitor would shape the first flowers, shaped like the bed it had rested in, torn open by Hellenax’s claws.

To remember the plague the Parasytes were, the Progenitor created the first insects, to harass and pull lifeforce from the beings on the Leaves and prepared them for the harsh reality.

Hellenax’s demands would be met and the Progenitor kept his promises as he said them.

Each angel the Progenitor created, they would know Hellenax’s Roots as such. The angels of the other gods, the mortal races, they came to call them the Hellroots.

Each mortal race cannot truly fly when moving on the Branches. They are bound closely, unable to fly far away, while angels can distance themselves when in a great hurry and dragons can soar freely.

Each Leaf has upon them creatures inspired by Hellenax. The Progenitor did with Hellenax’s form as he had done with the first tree. Scales gave rise to reptiles and snakes. Wings were used to make birds and bats. The webbed feet became the fins of fish. The four-legged body created bovines, pigs, and many other species. From these and many other parts, future gods would shape their own animals, imbued with aspects of Hellenax’s greedy and protective mind.

Yet, the Progenitor also made dragons. Lesser dragons, weak dragons, what became known as regular dragons, high dragons, and true dragons. When it didn’t make them, other gods would. The first animal, its shape was ingrained in the imagination of all that flowed down from the first parents. In the shape itself rests an echo of the first dragon’s claim to all of creation.

So, the legend of the origin of dragons goes.

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