Long ago, when our world was young and the moons but a phantom shimmer against the surface of our domain, peace was not so hard to come by. Balance held us gently in its arms, whispering, silent but acknowledged, of greatness to come. It blessed us with the gift of knowledge, and for that gift, we learned. For that gift, we grew, and as we grew, our songs danced beneath the surface of our unseen world, haunting but soothing to those who heard our voices. We were the guarded and the guardians, the children and the teachers, and in those days, we knew no turmoil but the subtle rocking of the world around us.

But such things cannot last.

Balance wanted to be what we had become. It was envious of its own creations, it wanted to be like them. It wanted individuality. Constrained by the pull of its own nature, however, it was forced to become two beings, rather than one. These two beings were known as Calyen and Shira, and though they conflicted with one another, each tended to the precious treasure that Balance had created as a mother tends to a child.

The split seemed harmless enough at first. Our kind had grown independent of Balance's influence, a child no longer in need of its mother's diligent tending. Finally content that their children had grown into adults, our Ladies began to withdraw some of their motherly touch. The change was reluctant, but each Sister assured the other that their little ones had made it farther than they could have guessed at the beginning of things. It would bolster our kind further, they thought, than we could have ever gone under Balance's watchful eye, and of course they would still be there when we reached for them. It was for the good of all that they withdrew.

It was devastating.

No more whispers of greatness, no more gentle reminders of the watchful presence lingering just overhead. Rumors spread, terrible rumors of a fledgling species created to fill the niche that had been promised to us. The unrest could not be quelled; even those who reached out to our Ladies and begged them for answers did not have peace. Our mothers, some said, had abandoned us, banished us to a pointless existence beneath the waves. Not once before had we thought of leaving the soothing womb into which we were born, and yet, now that our place above was threatened, it was all that many of us wanted.

Something shifted then, moved out from us in an instant, and for a split second, the world felt smaller. Whole groups of dragons who had formed together in the hopes of making their way onto land disappeared, never to be seen again. Underwater landmarks went missing, strange fish began to appear in our waters, flickering in and out of existence for only long enough that we could note them. The scale that Balance had formed by creating itself anew had been tipped, and the peaceful, singular universe we had known before was no more.

In the years that followed the accidental creation of the Multiverse, the churning oceans of Cunabula Deae produced and perfected the only creature for which Balance had left explicit plans. Dragons, as we would come to be known, held sway over the massive oceans with little to concern them. With the whisperers gone and survival on our minds, our kind would come to forget the lonely, deserted feeling, each of us reaching out to our Ladies in kind for support during this terrifying period.

They needed our comfort nearly as much as we needed theirs.

Though our efforts to rebuild kept our minds off the conflicts of days gone by, soon the old stories emerged with a brand new twist. No longer were our poor, distraught Ladies the object of our hatred and distrust. Rather, the villains of the story became the creatures they had created in those years before the Multiverse. Though we hardly knew their names, we didn't hesitate to tarnish their image. After all, what did we care about these creatures that, as it stood, we would never meet.

--Zabreathe

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