Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...
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The story of the great silver dragon Madrukh Jakara and the evil black dragoness Nihilerax Derios is a tale of a doomed love that was never meant to be.

It is rare for lawful metallic and anarchic chromatic dragons to become lifemates yet it is not unknown for dragons to fall for one another so deeply that they can put aside the ancient, ingrained traits of their colours and bloodlines and become one. This happened between Madrukh and Nihilerax in a relationship that began, surprisingly, as a war between the two over territory with Madrukh defending not just his land but the people that lived on it against the marauding black. Each being ancient wyrms possessing vast and powerful magics seemingly equally matched the war went nowhere but their respect for one anothers' abilities outgrew their animosity and gradually a relationship formed.

Although their happy to have intercourse for fun, dragons will mate to procreate very rarely. In the millennia they were together, Nihilerax became pregnant with a clutch of eggs just once but this time of joy spelled the end of their time together. Unlike most mortals dragons do not age once they have reached their prime so age is no enemy to them however they can still contract disease and such happened to Nihilerax. She realised she was dying but had no desire for her life to end and resolved to use her magic to harvest the lifeforce of her offspring to banish the disease and bring her back to health.

At first, desperately wanting his love to live and frustrated that his own not inconsiderable power could not heal her, Madrukh agreed. But as time passed he realised he could not condone for his innocent young to be sacrificed. He could not tell Nihilerax of this for such was her selfish will to survive at her youngs' expense he suspected she would flee to some hidden place to give birth and then steal the life from her own hatchlings without him to stop her. He waited, gathering his strength until the day Nihilerax laid her eggs. Teeth bared Madrukh gathered the eggs to him and told her he would never, could never condone such murder.

Nihilerax had not suspected this betrayal from her lifemate, thinking egotistically his love for something as wonderful as herself would know no bounds. Something inside her snapped and the centuries of inherent evil she had withheld for the sake of their love was unleashed. Screaming she flew at him and the two fought more fiercely than ever before. Of the eight eggs laid, seven were destroyed in the battle. Choosing to save a life rather than fight to a bloody, bitter conclusion, Madrukh took the last egg in his talons and fled, using his magic to teleport across the continent, not caring for the destination so long as Nihilerax would not follow too quickly. His magic brought him to the Evermoors, a seemingly endless wilderness of fen, marsh and moor. Here he hid the egg, casting upon it spells of protection and concealment before he flew on, hoping the dragoness would not expect him to abandon the egg and so track him.

For a time Nihilerax did hunt Madrukh but her weakening state soon stopped that. Death was close and without having any young with her blood - her lifeforce - running through them for her to reclaim as her own, the disease would kill her. In her long life Nihilerax had studied many forms of dark and black magics and in her final hour she called upon an incantation she had read in the crumbling and mouldy pages of a book on necromancy believed to have been stolen from the Necroclast himself. She altered her Word of Being, thus changing her state from alive to undead and became a dracoliche.

Nihilerax now haunts some of the world's most ancient peaks, the hoary Grey Mountains and guards the ill fabled House of Dusk. Madrukh's whereabouts however are unknown. He lives somewhere in Caevalonia with only the deep and horrible facial scars he received in their confrontation as a reminder of what he once had and lost. Each secretly dreads the day their paths are destined to cross for one final, bloody battle.
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Please don't laugh at my first attempt at chrome-ishness on Madrukh's wings