Steem Monsters Fantasy Story Contest - Giant Roc: Born of Wind, Hard as Stone

No one truly knows from whence I come. Some say I am the wind in physical form. Others tell of ancient rocs born of wind and rain. And others still claim we were formed from clash of sun and moon. Only legend and secret knowledge have the answer.

It all began in Draykh-Nahka long before the splintering, long before the Dragonfolk came to populate the land, and before humans mated with dragons, even while magic wait in infancy. It could have been magic gone awry, or perhaps purposefully employed to create the greatest scale-less bird in all of the lands. There is a tale of ancient misery that says the Dragon Moon People sought to create a bird of great strength they could use for work of large magnitude, a bird that could hunt and fight and transport large, heavy loads across great distances. The tale says they wanted a bird that knew no magic and would not compete for glory. So they made the first roc from their gold moon magic.

There are many tales, many legends, many stories of our origin. Most of them have died or have merged with others, the truth of which are difficult to discern. But the one story we tell ourselves has passed from our ancient forefather, the son of the daughter of the son of the first roc, GloriDroc.

Is it true? No one knows. But this story is our own and we tell it with pride.

Image take from the Giant Roc contest announcement page.

* * * * *

An ancient efreet priestess performed her nightly ritual of helioprayer, singing songs to the Suam Khepri and chanting minor spells she hoped was incense to the goddess. She practiced her arts with all serenity and fervor in the spirit of the Suam. In those days, many an efreet priestess practiced their arts openly. Their spells were harmless, not powerful by any stretch, but the beginnings of a type of moon magic that once grew into a mighty power but has since waned in comparison to the true magic of the Gloridrax.

Meanwhile, an early Nishtali vizier sought for a way to build great cities faster and with less labor. He had heard of the rising moon magic and how beautiful the priestesses were who practiced it. He wanted to see for himself.

A dragon with purple scales guarded its hoard of gold, flying free by night and sleeping by day. No one knows its name. But its said it was the greatest dragon of the time. And it provided the fire and one-third of the magic that would give birth to GloriDroc our forefather.

One dark night beneath the light of six full moons, the dragon searched for prey, swooping and rising, gliding and bounding with grace and power. He could hear the priestess chanting her prayers, singing her songs, and could smell the scent of her self-made perfume. Intrigued, he gave up on his hunt for a time to draw closer and hear more fully, smell more freely, and see more clearly this priestess of young magic. But he did not know there was another presence bent on the same mission.

The vizier silently made his way over rock and hill and dale. Crouching low, careful not to reveal his presence. He only wanted a glimpse of the beauty and to hear the pretty sound of her prayers.

Oblivious to the presence of both dragon and vizier, the priestess continued her chant. At the height of its music, a glow began to emanate from her face, creating a halo of blue and white rings rising up from her crown, each expanding its circle as it lifted higher toward the moon-lit sky. The vizier hoped he could grab one. He used his moon magic to lift himself into the air so as to retrieve a halo ring circling the head of this beautiful young priestess. The dragon, too, wanted a ring. He lifted himself on wing to the highest pinnacle of halo and snorted it into his nostril. A sweet aroma filled his head.

Dizzy now, the dragon sought to keep from falling. The vizier found his ring, the second highest after the one caught by the dragon, and he captured it with his hands, pulled it closer and wrapped it around himself, tossing it over his shoulder like a sash and then around his waist like a belt. Unsure if he was wearing the halo or the ring was wearing him, he lost control and began to fall.

The priestess continued her chants. Some say she was unaware of the presence of dragon and vizier. Others say she only pretended not to know. Her prayers continued until daybreak while the vizier and dragon floated in and out of each other's way unable to break free from the halo rings' grasp upon them.

At first peak of the sun, the priestess stopped chanting and opened her eyes. The dragon and vizier began to swirl like eddies above her head. Fire flew from the dragon's mouth in and around the vizier and the priestess, toward the sky, toward the ground, and all around. The vizier's tears fell like rain upon the priestess as he struggled to regain control of his magic. The priestess stood, lifted her face toward the sky, and blew into the fusion of the vizier and the dragon dancing together in the air. Her breath carried them higher and higher until they were out of sight. Then a thunderclap broke the spell.

Legend has it that the dragon and the vizier cast a spell at the same time when they had risen too high to be seen, and that their magics and the magic of the priestess mingled in the space above causing the thunder and the birth of the roc.

Instantly, the dragon took flight. As fast as he could, he flew far away, back to his cave to guard his hoard. The vizier, able now to control his own magic, floated into the distance and disappeared. Out of their invisible presence came GloriDroc, swooping in from on high where the dragon and the vizier had been, out of sight. He placed his talons on the priestess' shoulders and carried her off to an unknown place where together they lived on each other's strengths until one of them died.

Some say the priestess is the mother of all rocs who came after. Others say GloriDroc was both male and female and lay the first roc eggs.

These mysteries today remain. But the vizier finally got his wish. He took the children of GloriDroc and used them to build cities and monuments and structures great and small. Unable to perform magic, the rocs could not fight against the mighty magic of the gold moon. They became slaves for labor and food for the dragons. When the splintering broke the magic that bound them, they left Draykh-Nahka and took up residence in the Burning Lands where they would volunteer to be war steeds for their efreet friends, guard the outer side of Molten Mountain, and serve and protect all Ferexia with their might and great strength.

Divider provided by @calumam

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