War Of Dragons, Part 2

  "What do you mean Dragon Riders?"  Darsk didn't say anything.  "What catacombs?"  I asked.  "Could you answer me?"

"Please be quiet, the catacombs will answer all your questions."  He just stood there in front of the metal hatch.  Like he was thinking about how to open it.

"How are you going to open that anyway?"  I asked.  He just grinned at me like crazy.

"Oh... it's very complex."  Then he lowered his head, and...

"You wouldn't..."  I said.  Then He charged!!!  The hatch crashed down!!!  Now we could get in.

"Darsk!!!  Isn't someone going to notice?!"

"Eh, no one comes down here anymore.  Too many bad memories.

"That's the best excuse I've ever heard in my life."

"I'm clever like that."  So then we walked together into the tunnels.  They were long and narrow and cold and dark.  The place reeked of misery.  I looked at the ceiling, then the floor, then at the walls.  There were paintings on them.  Paintings, how did those even get down there?

  Darsk saw me looking at them, and told me:

"Those paintings were made when we first got down here.  Remember those questions you asked me earlier?"  I nodded.  "Those paintings should answer some questions."  I looked at him for awhile.  He seemed... off, a little grumpier.  No not grumpy... sad.  Like being in the tunnels was like being in hell.

Then I looked away and started to look at the paintings.  The first was of Dragons, they were in a field, and they looked... happy.  The next was of humans... attacking them.  Then the Dragons retreated into some caves.

  "So that's how you..." I said.

"Got down here?  Yeah, we're peaceful pacifists, or at least we are according to the council."  sadi Darsk.

  I looked back at the paintings, this time I saw a new story.  A boy was riding a Dragon, both looked like friends, they were happy.  In the next picture, the same boy was talking to the other humans.  Trying to convince them about Dragons, I guess.  The humans didn't looked convinced.  The final picture was of the boy... crying... kneeling over the same Dragon he had ridden... the Dragon was dead.

  "His name was Bran..." said Darsk.  "Him and Grod were the best friends I will ever see.  Bran tried to stop the humans, and well... you saw the results."

"I did but... what happens now?"

"Well... the council just told me to take you to the hatchery... they told me telepathically."

"Of course, is the hatchery where they hatch the eggs?"

"You catch on quick.  They need you to pick a egg."

"Why?"

"They want you... to become the next Dragon Rider."