The star-dragons were at first shocked, then delighted by what they had created. They sang their love to the planet, and the planet sang its love back. But the planet had been born from a sick star, and despite the love the star-dragons gave it, it grew ill again, and sang dissent into the star-dragons’ hearts. One dragon, the she-dragon, began to covet the planet, became obsessed with it. She began to pick fights with her partner, became increasingly paranoid that he wanted the planet for himself. The male star-dragon realized what was happening, tried to convince the she-dragon to leave the planet with him, to fly amongst their brethren, the singing stars, once again. But the she-dragon thought he was trying to trick her, trying to steal the planet. She attacked him, tearing at him, and he became overcome with anger, his temper stoked by the sick planet’s song. The dragons’ star-blood flowed into space as they tore into each other, creating a river of stars across the sky.
Eventually, the male dragon overcame the female and silenced her singing. But he was dying, too injured to stay among the stars, and so he fell to the planet. As he lay broken on the planet’s cold surface, his rage subsided and he realized what he had done. His being was completely filled with sorrow, and before his own song became silent forever, he cried rivers and oceans onto the planet, and his tears cleansed the land and healed its core, allowing it to sing love once again.
Where the male star-dragon fell, the spines of his body became mountain ranges and his wings became vast plains. The highest peaks of the ranges were formed by the horns and spines on the crest of his head. At the top of the very highest peak, the King’s castle now stands, a giant, open arena with a needle-like tower in the middle, ringed by behemoth pillars and archways cut into the icy stone of the mountain, carved onto the horns of the male star-dragon, and the rock glimmers quietly, sings to itself softly, a faint reminder of the stars it once came from.