Chapter 15: War of Dragons (3)

I can’t force them.

I can’t persuade them.

What am I supposed to do with these arrogant dragons who think they rule the sky? How do I control those who refuse to be controlled?

Then, it hit me. If they won’t listen, I’ll make them listen to someone who will! And I have the perfect candidates!

“[Erebos. Shamash. Ifrit. Tethys. Sylph. Sagarmatha. Yggdrasil. Appear before me!]”

“Mother?! Did you summon us again?!”

“Please stop summoning us like this! We’re busy!”

“I’m… fine.”

“Sagarmatha and I always have time. You can summon us anytime. But what is it this time?”

I silently pointed at the Red Dragons and Black Dragons. Ifrit and Erebos’ expressions hardened as they saw the injured dragons.

“These children started a fight, and several dragons were killed.”

“But Mother, they’re just kids… kids fight, don’t they?”

“Kids’ fights shouldn’t be fatal. The dragon birth rate is already declining. We can’t afford to lose them to petty squabbles.” I sighed.

“At least I established the ‘no harming hatchlings’ rule. The newborns are safe. Without it, these reckless youngsters would have killed them.” That had actually happened once, escalating into a full-blown war.

“I can’t control all of you, so you’re responsible for your own offspring.”

“What? Those little troublemakers?”

“Mine are relatively well-behaved… What if the others provoke them?”

“Well-behaved? Black Dragons? Those relentlessly multiplying fiends?!”

“Exactly! Black Dragons, well-behaved? There are so many of them! Half the new hatchlings are Black Dragons! It’s not fair!”

“The other colors are simply less enthusiastic about expanding their families. That’s hardly cheating.” Well, he had a point. Black Dragons did make up a significant portion of the new generation.

“Regardless, you’re responsible for the children you created. I can’t manage them all.”

“Mother, are you saying there’s something you can’t do?” Erebos asked.

I sighed. “Indeed. I tried to control them once, but it only led to disaster.”

“Dis…aster?”

“It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.” No need to mention time travel.

“And… there will be penalties if you fail to control your children. I should have done this from the beginning…”

“Penalties? Us? What penalties?!”

“Oh dear… that might be a problem for Erebos, with his large brood.”

“My… children… well-behaved.”

“Mine too. They don’t fight unless provoked.”

Yggdrasil and Sagarmatha’s children rarely caused trouble. The real problem was the Black and Red Dragons… but I had to let their parents handle it.

“Mother, if there are penalties for failure, will there be rewards for success?” Erebos asked.

“Rewards?” I hadn’t thought about that. Hmm…

“For the next hundred years, if your children refrain from killing other dragons…” Their gazes intensified, full of anticipation. It was a little unnerving.

“…I will grant you one wish. Anything within my power.”

They stared at me, astonished. Was that really so surprising?

“Anything…?”

“Are you serious, Mother?”

“Mom! Don’t make promises you can’t keep!”

“Mother! You have to take care of yourself!”

“No… I disagree…!”

“Oh my… oh my goodness! What’s gotten into her?”

What was with their reactions? It was just one wish. Why were they making such a fuss?

“Hmm… It seems none of you are confident in your parenting skills. In that case, I win this little wager! ♥” Shamash said smugly.

“We can’t let that stand!”

“That’s what I’d expect from a brainless, sparkly gold dragon!”

“I’m perfectly capable of controlling my children!”

Well, good luck with that.

“By the way, the penalty is the confiscation of the scales I gave you.”

Their expressions froze. What? I gave you those scales. If you don’t do your job, I’m taking them back. What’s the problem?

And so, my attempt to prevent dragons from killing each other…

“How did it come to this…?”

…had turned into a non-lethal war.

“I said ‘no killing,’ not ‘rip their wings off,’ ‘sever their limbs,’ or ‘leave them barely alive’! Especially you, Erebos! Using your own children as bait and sacrifices to eliminate the competition?!”

I looked at the mangled dragons at my feet, my head throbbing. A war without fatalities. A war of dismemberment. This wasn’t what I’d intended. And no matter how many times I turned back time, changed the rules, or stopped the fights, they always found a loophole, a new way to wage war. These clever little monsters were giving me a migraine. If I forbade everything, it would be tyranny, and that always led to ruin. So smart, yet so disobedient. I should have just turned everything back to nothing… No, wait. That’s a bad idea. Even in anger, there are lines you don’t cross.

I sighed and healed the injured dragons. I could have regenerated their lost limbs, but they’d just go back to fighting.

Dragons, divided by the color of their scales, hating each other, only acknowledging those of the same color as family.

Were dragons inherently flawed? No, I was a dragon too, but I was different.

I just had to be patient. A little longer. Just for the agreed-upon hundred years.

I stood on the plains, surrounded by dragons of every color, injured and whole, gathered according to their scales. Even Ifrit, reduced to a spirit after losing his scales, was present.

“I offered a reward for peace, but you only sought the prize, trying to eliminate each other.”

For a hundred years, the war had raged, non-lethal… until a Red Dragon killed a Black Dragon, forfeiting Ifrit’s scales and reducing him to a spirit. The orphaned Red Dragons, now without a parent, wandered the plains until I took them under my protection.

“Mother… but…”

“Silence, Erebos. I didn’t give you permission to speak.”

Erebos. Clever, cunning Erebos. Why did he use his intelligence for such destructive purposes? Using his own family, his own children, as pawns and sacrifices?

It saddened me.

“Did you think I was foolish? Did my kindness make you think you could ignore my words?”

They didn’t answer. They’d grown up relying on my kindness, my benevolence, but they’d disregarded my words, seeking only their own selfish desires.

“I wanted to be a kind and gentle parent, not a fearsome tyrant.” I looked at the dragons, divided by color, even now, as I stood here, my anger radiating outwards. I sighed.

“My patience has reached its limit. I’ve waited, I’ve turned back time countless times, but your foolishness persists.”

So be it. I would show them true fear. They needed to learn that there were things far more terrifying than each other.

I cast a spell I’d hoped never to use.

I summoned a meteor from the cold depths of space and sent it hurtling towards their world.

Meteor Strike. An act of cosmic destruction, a celestial hammer falling from the heavens, tearing through the clouds.