Merlin stood in the cave entrance, unable to believe what he saw. Angels soared above the trees, up the mountainside, toward his home. He did not want to fight them, but they were leaving him no choice.
The Angels had taken up arms, hunting and killing fairies and dragons gifted with magic. They’d destroyed entire villages and towns to rid the world of magic.
Merlin was the Black Magic Dragon, The dragon of legend that nearly destroyed the fairies. The ancient dragon, from the Northern Ice. He’d known the Angels would come for him someday, but their audacity surprised him. He walked into the clearing outside his cave. “If they want a war, then they shall have one.”
Merlin screamed, filling the sky with the sound of sheets of metal being torn apart. He flexed his wings, and took to the sky, leaving his cave behind. Upon spotting him, the Angels left the mountain, heading into the sky, chasing him, exactly as he knew they would.
Merlin’s black magic was useless against the Angels, they were immune to it. But they were not immune to his talons and his teeth. He changed direction, racing toward the sun. The Angels followed. Merlin accelerated. He possessed speed the Angels could not match. He could have easily escaped them. But they would find him again. They’d given him no choice but to stop them.
He plunged toward the ground, directly at the Angels, with talons fully extended and teeth barred. He sliced through the Angels, his talons stronger than the finest steel, sharp enough to slice through rock, cleaving Angels in half. Dead Angels rained from the sky.
Merlin screamed, the sound of metal rent asunder echoed through the sky.
Thus began the war between the Dragons and the Angels.