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The Second Wyrmmes

It was a time of peace, after the Dark Primes had been driven out of the Dragon's Palace. The Primes of the Clutch of Happiness, all the Light Primes, were feasting together. Chim was teaching Jemmion and Beekin a new little game played with pebbles and pits.

Sitting a little apart, the seven eldest Primes, called the Primordials, were discussing deep matters. Suddenly they all sat up, as they all heard the Dragon's mystical mandate: "Now. Try again." They knew at once that the time had come to create a new race of Wyrmmes.

Of the Primordial Primes, Wevvin and Sek had given of themselves to create the Felines; Viverravus had given of himself to the Rodents; Syndira had given of herself to the Mustelines, Ahroth had given of himself to the Canines, and Aristaya, to the Equines. This left only the dragoness Thelcoda, who had coordinated them all in the making of the Furres.

So the Primordial Primes carried her to a beautiful meadow. They gave her delicious magical elixirs to drink. The last one was a gift from Beekin. Her belly grew round. She laid many small eggs, each one swirled with different colors, each one a delight to behold. The other Primes carried the eggs down to the land of Drakoria, to hide them. Even when far apart, the eggs of the Second Wyrmmes mind-whispered good and gentle things to each other.

Meanwhile, the Dark Primes sent their agents to gather beneath Drakoria. They split the earth, and lava welled up until it formed a jagged chain of volcanoes. Under this land, they wove grave enchantments so that no weapon of Ahroth's metal would ever harm a Wyrmme.

In this great heat, the Second Wyrmmes hatched from those eggs sooner than intended. Ravenous hunger was their first memory. "Go forth and conquer," whispered the minions of the Dark Primes. "For you are the rightful rulers of the world!"

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