"Are you listening to me, Akalani?" Orc Farat asks his pupil, who had just fallen asleep during his explanation.

"Sorry. I've been quite drowsy lately..." Jean apologizes. In a few weeks, he will enter another period of hibernation to become a young dragon. Each passing day makes his drowsiness increasingly unbearable.

"It was you who wanted to know about Ralkor's past. It took me a lot of effort to find these ancient books in Ialdai." The shaman says as he stacks history tomes on one of the desks. They are in a underground room. Above, gobs and kobolds work on what will be the future castle of Gorkaki. "Very well... Maybe I should teach this lesson in another way. Like a bedtime story for you." The orc chuckles as he approaches the fireplace. With one hand, he grabs a handful of flames that begin to form images.

"Millennia ago, the world was ruled by titans.

Giant beasts empowered by raw magic. The living beings closest to the power of the Gods of the Astral Plane.

The skies were ruled by Wyverns, Rocs, and Ziz. Flying beasts with giant wings that cast shadows over entire villages.

Sea serpents, krakens, and other types of leviathans terrorized the dark depths of the oceans to the shores of the coasts.

Behemoths walked the land causing tremors with every step, stomping anything in their path.

The titans were not true gods, but their power over the world was unquestionable. Only the races of short and quickly reproducing life, such as humans, goblins, and beastkin, thrived in this ancient and violent world.

Civilizations of this era fell and rose rapidly, following the whims of the titans.

During this same period, the Goddess Frira, the Winter Queen, killed the Golden Emperor Er-Don, one of the incarnations of the Sun God Jahaya, plunging the world into eternal winter. This episode became known as the Slumber of Jahaya.

To survive, the titans retreated to their nests to hibernate until the Sun God awakened again.

Meanwhile, the lesser races perished in the endless winter.

With so much death, one god of life and fertility, Sinar, sacrificed himself to bring light and warmth to the world until Jahaya awoke once again. The springly Sinar became the Burning God, and with his sacrifice, the lesser races could survive once more.

However, not all of them would have a chance at prosperity when the titans awoke again.

The elves, unable to reproduce as quickly as humans or goblins, would once again be on the brink of extinction.

Fearing that this would happen, the Goddess of Magic Kriviniol decided to bestow a blessing upon the elves. The gift of magic.

The short-lived races may not remember the horrors committed by the titans, but the elves remembered. With the power of magic, the elves founded the Kingdom of Synalarion and began purging the titans before they could awaken.

Under the excuse of eliminating all titans from Erdonya, the elven kingdom began to expand and conquer more lands. And they would not stop until almost the entire world fell under their dominion.

To increase their numbers, the elves began to interbreed with the conquered races. Thus, orcs, hobgoblins, halveans, trows, and all varieties of elves emerged.

Unraveling magical arts, the elvenkind began to contact creatures from the Astral. First, the fairies, then the true dragons and genies, and finally, angels, demons, and aberrations.

The elven empire of Synalarion threatened to conquer the entire world.

When the synalari landed in Dro-Ur, they found a continent dominated by two beasts. Two titans who had awakened from their hibernation. A pair of dragons called Ralkor and Eskira.

Ralkor was an immense drake, with brown scales resembling rocks. He was feared and revered as a deity by the beastkin tribes of the continent. Kobolds called him the Marching Mountain.

Eskira was a large but sleek drake. She had obsidian-black scales with purple details. She was worshiped by the gobs of this land. Goblins, trolls, and ogres made offerings to her, but the dragoness found them stupid and pitiable.

When the trows emerged, born from the crossing of elves and trolls, Eskira became fascinated by the new race. Resilient like trolls, yet graceful and skilled like elves.

While Ralkor waged war against the invading elves and their creations, Eskira captured trows to make them her new subjects.

"Eskira, stop!" Ralkor pleaded with his mate. "These filthy creatures are elven offspring. Made in their image and likeness."

"No!" Eskira retorted. "They are gobs like any other. The only difference is that they are prettier."

"They are not ragdolls, Eskira. They are not like orcs and hobgoblins. Elves use them as overseers and taskmasters because the trows inherited their arrogance."

"Are you afraid of these monkeys, Ralkor? No matter the color of their skin or the shape of their ears, they were made to serve us." The dragoness laughed.

"Have you forgotten how many of us these elves cowardly slain? The Age of Titans ended because of them." Ralkor was infuriated by his partner's foolishness.

"Then we will use them to create a new one. As servants. This is The World As It Should Be."

Without reaching an agreement, the couple continued to exhibit different behaviors during the elven invasion of Dro-Ur. Ralkor began to lead not only the tribes of beastkin but also the gob tribes against the elves. Meanwhile, Eskira became obsessed with the trows. She even raided a trow city in Kasvil and made it her lair.

As centuries passed, the power of the elven empire dwindled due to conflicts among the various elven varieties that emerged and the uprisings of other dominated races, especially humans. It became impossible for the high elves of Synalarion to maintain their dominance.

During this time, magic knew no bounds. Spellcasters could destroy entire cities, drain rivers, and blow mountains. And now, magical power was no longer a monopoly of the elves. Other humanoid races abused the gift of magic in an era known as the Spellcasters’ Warmongery.

This abuse of magic weakened the veil that separated the material world from the Astral Plane.

Taking advantage of the tumultuous period and the weakness in the veil, Gwenuin, a dragon god, descended upon the physical world, bringing great destruction.

During the Rage of Gwenuin, Erdonya was covered in poison and purple flames. Several dragons, including Ralkor, were seduced by the entity's wrath and helped him to purge the world in fire and death.

Eskira, fearing for her trows who were vulnerable to the purple flames falling from the sky and the acid rain washing the land, opened the entrance to the underground in Kasvil and guided the trows to a refuge.

In the depths, the trows founded an empire that would be named in honor of their matron.

And Ralkor was punished for siding with the God of Purple Demise and prevented from leaving the same place, condemned to a deep sleep with few moments of lucidity until the end of his days."

The flames that formed images telling the story dissipate.

"What do you think of the little story?" Farat turns to Jean, who is sleeping on the desk.

"And he fell asleep again..." The shaman stands up and removes one layer of his tunic.

"Your kind is funny." He speaks while covering the elf-shaped dragon sleeping soundly. "You sleep to grow, sleep to escape danger, sleep because you were cursed... You really like sleeping." The orc chuckles again.

"Have sweet dreams, Akalani. Dream of a better world. As it should be."