Many years had passed, which seemed like a blink of the eye to the gods. Aritarg had lost control of the age of ice, and nature herself had stepped in. The Bishel had now receded into the deep dark caves. The fighting soon died down, and in their seemingly endless captivity the traditions given to them remained strong. Each clan gave to the other, creating endless possibilities for the future. For a time all was well in their captivity.

It was not well for all, as that last statement may have led you to believe. A dragon, born with a magically gift to use the compassionate nature goddess' powers without restraint, felt the pain of the gods as well. She was still a wyrm but she knew what would happen if the snow did not wane. This Speaker told her superiors, the elders who were said to hold more power then even her. They foolishly dismissed her claim as common silliness. Little did any of the Speakers, Healers, Hunters, Heroes, or Elders know of the evil that was coming. Only the children could see the seeds of nightmare planted.

Each of the gods walked among them. Each had their own vendetta, three were good but one was far from it. 

An old tattered dragon walked through a group of playing wyrms, who stopped to stare at all the scars that covered his body.

*Sir!* cried one little red-gray wyrm, *You must have seem some exciting battles when you were young! Can you tell us a story of one of your brave battles?*

*Young child,* the voice seemed far younger then the dragon.  *War is nothing you wish to know about. I have seen much pain in my life, why give such a burden to one like you?*

*No reason, Sir. You just looked like you had something on your mind and you seem... to be blessed by a god with your coloration and all.* The wyrm began to shuffle away slowly.

*Young child.*

The little wyrm stopped, and turned his head towards the dragon who seemed to be blind. *Yes, Sir?*

*May the god of magic and intelligence bless you.* With that, the tattered old dragon began to follow the path once more, this time with a smile. Maybe, just maybe, this upcoming war would never happen.

***

In another underground passage a young spry dragon, with a slight sheen of gold to it, ran about examining the surrounding "market place." When stuck in caves and underground passages it was hard have a true place to sell goods, but this was good enough.

The young Bishen listened to the gossip going around. *I heard some Furry Clan scouts said that the snow has begun to melt!*

*Well, I heard that a Crystal profit predicted the end of this era quite soon!*

*That means we can see all the things the ancestors spoke of! Like trees, and maybe birds! I've always wanted to see a bird.*

The young dragon stopped at a dragon couple, who were strolling with their child, who seemed to be alone. The young dragon chocked her head to one side and asked one of the parents outright, *Is something wrong with your child?*

The mother responded in speech, not thought, with a very simple answer. "Our child has never spoken a word since the day of his birth, he has not even shown a form of the more common mental speech. Must I tell you that children are cruel to him?"

*No, you need not tell me that. I've seen the things that a wyrm can do if they mean it or not. I ask, little boy, are you waiting for just the right moment to speak?*

The wyrm looked up wide eyed noticing the golden color of the dragon. Why would someone who was so important be speaking to him? After all all the other wyrms rejected him for who he was, why not her? Could this be like in the fairy tales his mother told him?

With all his might he wished that he could answer, but he could not muster the words.

The young dragon touched her nose to his head with a smile. *Take care of yourself little one. You'll be a very powerful leader years from now.* With the the dragon swiftly ran out of site.

The wyrm called to the receding figure, using his lost voice for the first time, "Thank you!"

***

A purple figure bounced through the tight masses of dragons. Gossip had been flying around in that area about and expedition to the surface by regular dragons. This gossip had now become fact after it was officially announced that the first expedition was successful, so the corridors were packed wall to wall. Even with this hindrance the dragon proceeded.

After what seemed like an eternity the dragon found a clear area. She huffed and puffed for a bit before calling attention to herself. In fact the young dragon was in the public speaking area and she sat on the natural stage created in the jagged caves.

She had a gleam in her eye as she spoke to all the hushed dragons. "Friends, all of the rumors you have heard are true!" 

The crowd roared in amazement. The would not let the poor dragon speak another word, until a dragon with a horn only comparable to that of a unicorn joined her on the staged. Everyone shut up rather quickly when he gave them all a stern look.

He looked to the female dragon and signaled her to speak.

"If all has gone as planned we will be able to see the light of day once again! We all must prepare for a festival that honors the gods and their reprieve!"

Whispers seeped through the crowd. None had spoken of the gods in such a long time. They were the ones who put them here weren't they? So, did they choose to get them out? The questions fluttered throughout the caves and bounced off the walls.

"We must honor them," said the female dragon in such a way that it sent chills down spins.

All the dragons went silent and watched her.

"If we do not we might start a terrible war or so the rumors say." She looked at them with her deep blue eyes. Each dragon in the room was from a separate clan or was a hybrid. Col d'tirra had caught wind of the plan created by Artitarg to destroy the peace. It was just a matter of making them believe her.

One dragon, a shimmering blue one with four legs, laughed at the notion. *We have been at peace for years! Even the dragons built for the past forgotten wars have come to know only peace! It could never happen!*

They all agreed with the fool. It would be their demise.

***

"Dai-Dai!" A little wyrm called down a corridor. It was the same dragon from before, the one that had found its voice. With a closer expectation this dragon was the color of stones, and sported a set of long spiraling horns that could be compared with a gazelle's. He seemed to be in a hurry, and was quite alone. 

*Mae?* A small dragon head popped out of the corridor. It was the red-gray dragon who had been blessed by the dragon of intelligence. This wyrm, was unlike most of the wyrms since it already had grown appendages. In his case they were two legs and a small set of wings, that seemed oddly proportioned on his small body. Shock was across the face of this green eyed wyrm. *How can you... talk?*

"You wouldn't believe it! I was blessed by the Might Gratira! It was her I just KNOW it!"

*You mean a god visited you too?*

"Yes, Dai-Dai! Wait... who came to you?"

*Well... I think it was Kynadtuli.*

"This is..."

*... impossible.*

There was a long silence between the two dragons. They were both calculating what this whole thing meant. Could this have anything to do with the nightmares either of them had been having since they were hatched? Could this do with the end of the era?

*Mae, who else has been blessed by the gods in recent years?*

"The Speaker?"

*Yes! She was blessed by Col d'tirra! Do you connect the dots?*

Mae's eyes widened and nearly fell out of his head to roll on the ground. "The three of us have been chosen by the gods to do something very important. She said that I would be a great leader some day...."

*Yes, I think you will be a great leader.* Dai-Dai wrinkled his brow. *But I think we're missing something.*

"Why do you say that?"

*What if... Aritarg blesses someone as well?*

Both wyrms looked at each other with horrorstruck faces.

***

No one ever came to visit the Speaker unless they wanted something for themselves. She was never selfish and would never refuse a dragon. Today's work had been extra busy, since all the dragons wanted to know something about what the future held. The only problem was that the gods refused to communicate with her.

So she turned each one away with the disappointing truth.

All except the two who had managed to sneak into her parlor. They were wyrms just like her, and they had pure intentions, she was sure of that. She smiled as the red male poked its head out from behind a chair. He waved a paw, *Oh... Hello.*

*Hello,* said the Speaker. *What's your name?*

*Dai-Dai. My friend is Mae." The dragon seemed to flush for a moment, *You have a name besides "The Speaker"?*

She wrapped herself around her little glass ball she used as a speaking orb. *Yes. It's Ilorina or Rina for short.*

*It's nice to meet you Rina!*

"Yes, very!" said Mae remaining in his hiding place.

*I know why you're hear, and I think I can answer your question.*

"That makes our lives much easier."

*No, I'm afraid it makes things much more complicated.* She paused, *Our lives are changed forever, and we are each bound to a god of goddess. With our gifts we must stop a war to save the lives of our future kin. We are three dragons that have been descended from the original four dragons. We must carry on their legacy.*

The room seemed to fill with an icy air as it waited for the wyrms to give up.  Mae spoke first. His voice seemed to have a new driving power behind it,

"Let the war come. We will stop it in its tracks."