Hello there, my fellow Dragon Nest players! :D I AM SO HAPPY TO FIND YOU ALL ON FANFIC YAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA—Ahem.

Anyways. I was looking through a few months ago and I was pretty sure that there were no Dragon Nest fanfic but ended up finding 28. I wanted to write one but had no good ideas and so I didn't. Instead I began focusing on my Legend of Songtale story that will be posted on , twin-sister site of .

Anyways, this is the story I'm going to relate to you. Enjoy and review!

(p.s.) You can find me on Dragon Nest (Songtale or SongChaos or even Songflower, so many songs) on almost all of the days. I suck though ._. .

She was so young back then. I'm sure she doesn't remember that. It was a miraculous incident, and somehow I was directed to record down her story. What a perfect idea for a book, sure, but I think you'll understand. Many has tried to write this down, but only I know the true side of this.

She was very young back then, wasn't she?

Fallen Prophecy

Book 1: Dying Tale, Prologue

"And so the evil creature was defeated, sent back to its slimy prison by its own powers! Sealed away to sleep for another 100 years. But the darkness lingered, so the dying star gave its last prophecy: The one who bears the gift of the Star, will correct what has been wronged." The old grandfather closed his mouth, letting his last words trail and drag slowly through the air, burying itself deep within the mind of the awed young ones who gathered, in a circle, around his homely armchair.

"Who was the star?" A young girl asked, whispering her words as if the magic of the story will be broken and altered if a single loud noise dare touch its sacred words.

The old grandfather smiled and leaned, with some difficulty, off his armchair to ruffle the already-messy hair of the girl who had spoken. She had heard the story many times before, but always acted as if every time she listened, the time-worn folk-lore renewed itself.

"The star was a great warrior, who fought against the Green Dragon 90 years ago. We don't know much about him, or her, for that matter. All we know is that both the dragon's army and the hero's army suffered heavy losses, and the star himself (or herself) had been fatally injured. Knowing his/her own fate, the star left behind one last thing: a Prophecy. You already all know the prophecy, so there's no need to ask me more on that. I know only what my forefathers have passed down for 9 decades." Smiling at the young children's disappointed faces, the kindly old man added, "Now run along and play. Tomorrow I'll tell you all about the Battle of Blackguard Stronghold."

Squealing with delight, the children bounced off energetically to find their toys and playmates. Only the girl remained. She was a quiet creature, oldest of the group that gathered to listen to fairytales. The others of her age had long grew tired of listening to stories of bygone heroes, and had moved on to playacting.

"Grandpa, when will the Prophecy be revealed?" The teen asked quietly.

"Soon." Grandpa closed his eyes. "I can feel it in my old bones, squashed next to all that rheumatism." Groaning, the elder propelled himself upright, giving his granddaughter a wink. "Who knows? Perhaps little Timmy will turn out to be the Star. Now run along, Rose."

Flashing him a quick smile, Rose stood up and walked quietly out.

"And the Prophecy said: The one who bears the gift of the Star, will correct what has been wronged." Rose whispered to the young group of children who had clumped together next to her worn little wooden stool, staring at her with absolute fascination. Smiling happily that she still remembers the complete story, the young adult stood up and shooed the little children out of her humble house.

95… 95 years have passed. 5 more years… Rose stared at her hands. To the children it was nothing but a fancy folk-story that has survived for almost 100 years. But Rose knew better. All the older ones knew better. 5 more years.

5 more years until the Green Dragon returns.

From what Rose have gathered of the Green Dragon, it was a creature of pure fear and chaos. A machine designed to only destroy and kill and nothing else. Fearful legends have passed down telling of its remarkable strength and stunning powers. This was the dragon that almost completely destroyed Altera 95 years ago, and it's coming back.

Rose sighed. Why couldn't the heroes if the past seal up the dragon for 1000 years, not 100? 100 years is such a short time, even for a human. Why, the elves were flighty at first because 100 years was such a short, pinchy amount of time before the dragon returns, and they will have to fight it again. The elves that have survived the first Green Dragon Nest aren't too keen on plunging madly back into it again. We're all waiting for the Star.

"The one who bears the gift of the Star, will correct what has been wronged." Rose breathed the last magic words into the air. Such familiar words, they rolled right off her tongue, as if they had expected this to happen and were happy to be free. The new generation stared in awe at the story-teller. The older ones knew that Rose had finished the story, and was about to rise and thank her, when a fresh bushel of words they have never heard before crept out of Rose's mouth. "100 years is a long time for us. But it's not long enough. It's back. And now we need a hero to save us all."

Standing up abruptly, the storyteller sighed and shooed the younger ones out to play. All of them had puzzled faces. Even the youngest ones can tell by the looks on their older playmates' faces that something about Rose's last few sentences were unsettling.

100 years is a long time indeed.

There was so much screaming, frightened people! Fire roared everywhere, consuming and eating away at the trees, the gardens, the wooden patches on houses. Rose chocked on ash as wailing blotted out her hearing. Smoke singed her nostrils and rendered her sense of smell useless. Fire, ash, smoke, and flying debris clouded her sight and made her helpless. She was surrounded by an atmosphere so terrifyingly disrupted Rose instantly lost all her sense of direction and felt as it an invisible hand of death was closing over her, wrapping its fingers around her tighter and tighter. Roofs collapsed as boulders slammed into them, breaking into pieces and showering death on the confused villagers below.

Crying rang out feebly, the newborn was small and weak. It's trapped somewhere under the debris. Tearing up helplessly, Rose shoved aside collapsed timbers until she reached a pitiful bundle, perfectly fine except for a few slashes of soot here and there. Rose knew if she didn't get out of here immediately, both herself and the baby will die.

Regardless of who the baby's mother was, Rose scooped up the bawling bundle and dashed into the safety of the open meadows, where it was too wet for the fire to touch. A few villagers saw the two and rushed to join them, hurrying out of this place of doom.

The normally weak monsters hanging around town had become more aggressive, more cunning. They probably sensed the return of the mighty Green Dragon also. This fire attack was started by normally hiding kobolds and orcs, who wandered harmlessly through the area.

No… no, no… no, no, no, no, NO! Rose felt more tears blinding her vision, flying rocks and grit scraped against her arms and legs, trying to slow her down. The baby, surprisingly, went to sleep. Seeing its blurry shape through tear-stained eyes, all peaceful and quiet despite the chaos around, made Rose even more determined to get out of this furnace. Nothing else mattered more, she must get away from here.

Darting from one place to another, Rose quickly made her way across the burning, dying settlement that she lovingly called home.

Safe.

Collapsing in a heap in the cool, wet, and shallow lake in the center of the meadow, Rose breathed heavily to calm herself down. The tears no longer came. And she felt fine, despite the fact that the bitter, acrid smell and taste of burning fire lingered in her mouth and nostrils.

The baby had woken, and was staring at her inquiringly with soft, blue dewdrop eyes. It was not crying anymore. It was just staring at her. Just staring. Rose stared back, not knowing what to do. What if it suddenly started crying? It might attract wandering kobolds. But the baby just stared and stared and stared at Rose, as if it knew everything that had happened and was curious about its savior.

"My name is Rose. I'm named after the Prophet. You know, the famous one that was the descendant of the ancients? 100 years ago? Yeah. She saved a lot of my forefathers." The young woman murmured softly. "I live where you live, in the village that just burned up. I know you miss your mama, and your papa, but… at least we're alive, right?"

The fragile thing replied by blinking its beautifully dark sapphire eyes and continued staring at Rose, who sighed and gently out the bundle down where it was dry and made soft by the sand.

"We'll look for survivors and for help in the morning." Then Rose laid down to sleep. She didn't feel bothered by the baby's constant stare, but she was quite confused by the strange calmness the baby seemed to show.

I was going to write more but… I look at how much I wrote and I was like… Oh wow that's not a very short prologue. So I stopped writing c:

Anyways. That's about it. Looks more like the first chapter than the prologue… oh well. To clear up some confusions: The setting of THIS chapter (or prologue, whatever) is 100 years in the future, after the current main quest in the actual game. Well, 100 years after the fall of the Green Dragon (Kalahan) that is. Or did we kill him. I don't know. Well, his lustre's still there. Oh well. Let's just say that the green dragon was defeated and his lustre sealed up. But now he's coming back or something. Like Leviatha! Yeah! Like Leviatha! (spoiler alert :3)

Hope you enjoyed! Review please! :3