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It’s been ten years since the Simian Flu began.
Two years since the Flu spread all over the world. Four years when humanity fell, replaced by sparse groups that barely survived. Six years, only those whose genetics held against the Flu had survived. Eight years, humans were rare to nonexistent.
Now, ten years since the Flu outbreak, the world has changed drastically. And with it, the ecosystem.
The woods of California, near the devastated San Francisco, were thick and healthy, a paradise not seen since before humans settled. That day, the rain fell, thunder rolling in the distance as it fell down in sheets. In these woods in particular, the apes ruled, both ones from the lab, zoo, and sanctuary. And over the reason, children were birthed and added to the population.
And here, Tala laid on the mountain ridge overlooking the wooden village of apes, curled up out in the open. The rain didn’t last long, such as San Francisco’s weather, and Tala didn’t mind the cold. Her eyes, a golden blue, watched as the apes lived as they always did since the Outbreak.
She heard the scuffle of feet, a feathered feather flickering as she turned, her broad head lifting from the mud and moss she found as a comfortable pillow. Stepping over her scaled tail, Caesar approached, looking tired. Tala didn’t have to ask what was on his mind, tail curling more towards herself as her wings shifted so she could sit up more.
As soon as Caesar sat down, Tala’s mouth moved, lips uncurling to reveal serrated teeth, “I see that you are stressed. How is your mate?”
“A son,” Caesar signed as Tala shifted, wings tucking tightly against her side as she looked down at the village with him. He could speak, but not when he was highly stressed. “She does not sound good.”
“Give her time to recover,” Tala replied, eyes going towards San Francisco. “Giving birth is rough on the body.”
Caesar nodded, looking over at Tala as the wyvern looked towards her old home. After some silence, Caesar tapped her wing. She looked over at him, pupils narrowing as he signed, “Do you still think about home?”
“Do you?”
Caesar shrugged, signing, “Sometimes. Sometimes I think of home. Don’t you?”
Tala’s pupils widened as she responded in a low, grumbled voice, “Yes. Though I cannot say exactly why. All I ever knew was pain before I came here.”
Caesar nodded, signing, “The Flu changed you for the better. You are more than a survivor. Consider yourself lucky.”
“Lucky?” Tala snorted, shaking her broad head. The water that had collected on her crest and pale white horns flew in the air. “I doubt that. Honestly, the world is so much better without humans. Advancement has its downfalls.”
“Do you think humans are all gone?”
Tala looked over at San Francisco, “No. A bottleneck effect has taken humanity, so I feel that some humans survived. Though without their medicine and technology, I doubt they can survive for long. Not with the winters and heat.”
Caesar hummed before signing, “Like apes too much?”
Tala snorted, “Yes, yes. I prefer the apes here. At least you know socially that you need each other for survival. You do well in leading them, Caesar. Remember that.”
“I am only doing what I must.”
“And more.” Tala laid down, so that her eye met Caesar’s. “You are a king. The best of all the apes. Sure, you’ll make mistakes, but you will always be remembered as the ape who led the apes into a new age. And hopefully, I can help you in whichever way I can. Whether that be my fire or my claws and teeth.”
Caesar stared at her for a long moment. A tired look on his face as he lifted a hand to her cheek. A friendly gesture that Tala appreciated.
That tired look would stay until the end. Tala remembered when his hand pressed on her snout for the last time, before he succumbed to his injuries left from the final battle with the human soldiers. Tala had roared out a shrill so that all knew the grief that the apes would endure after Caesar’s passing. Tala remembered the peace afterward, apes growing more into their own peaceful civilizations.
Tala was there when Maurice finally passed away.
Tala watched Caesar’s surviving son, Cornelius, grow up into a warrior before he too died from old age.
Tala watched as Nova grew up, the only human among apes that could use sign language. But she too died of old age.
Soon, the generation that Tala had grown to love and support upon escaping San Francisco all died, leaving Tala alone. Apes grew into their own groups, forming clans as their population bloomed in the Oasis Blue Eyes had found long ago. Tala, a human turned into a fire-breathing wyvern from a strange occurrence with the Simian Flu, was alone in a world that was no longer the world she had known when she was a fifteen-year-old, sick with the Flu that destroyed humanity.
The first hundred years were brutal, as both the old generation died and Tala realized that, as a dragon, she would have a long lifespan. It should have gotten easier.
But as the clans formed and made their own faiths and own systems, Tala was left alone. A wild dragon that took the occasional flight around the Oasis. Her home was next to the lake at the edge of the desert, near the site of Caesar's grave. Maurice never knew why Tala had such high respect for Caesar. It wasn’t because he was her savior or that she had loyalty to him.
She respected him. Respected his choices, his mistakes, and his leadership. He gave her a purpose in a world that wasn’t hers as soon as her body had gone through the gruel transformation. A transformation that Caesar had found himself meeting her for the first time.
And instead of being fearful, he helped her. Making sure she had somebody with her if she died from the pain. And when she survived, he left her with an offer. To join him in protecting the apes or be by herself.
During Cornelius’s lifetime, Tala did protect the apes.
Any threats were dealt with quickly and Tala made sure that if there were conflicts, she would be able to help resolve it.
But again, with the generation she protected with Caesar gone, Tala no longer had ties.
For the next fifty years, when Tala turned 120 years old, she began to fly around the world. It only took her twenty five years to fly around the world. And by fifty years, she settled back in the Oasis. But by then, the apes began to somewhat fear her, unused to her except for the stories the apes were told as children.
And for a hundred years after that, when Tala was 270 years old, Tala lived her life as any wild animal. Some apes were respectful of her, some even revered her as a god. She didn’t care anymore.
With the apes taking over, humans became an almost distant memory, hiding in the shadows away from the apes that now ruled the world. Tala didn’t care until she was hitting 300.
By then, she became a legend to some, a myth to many. She was the only link to the past, and knew of the coexistence between apes and humans. Stories changed over time, changed by the views of the new generation of apes that came and went.
Tala was left by herself, left in her home. What used to be a city was now a cluster of marshes, ruins, and thick vegetation. Here, she remained in the Oasis.
And now, almost 300 years after Caesar’s death and the rise of the apes, Tala lived her life in peace. She didn’t know if she'd ever die. How long she had.
She was much bigger now, almost 180 feet, curled on her nest of scrap, fallen trees, and vines she had pulled from the surrounding buildings. She could become a much bigger threat if she wanted to, but instead, she chose peace.
The sun was about to rise and she was resting for the mandatory flight she took every day. She had to fly every day so that her wings remained strong. The first ray of the sun brought Tala’s eyes to open, smoke trailing from her nostrils as she lifted her head to yawn, revealing the many serrated teeth she had grown over the years.
She was just about to get up when a gong ran.
Years ago, a gong was placed by the apes that were faithful to her. If the gong rang, apes wanted to speak to her in peace. At this, Tala shook her head, lifting up and climbing out of her nest. Ahead, two buildings falling towards each other served as the entrance to her nest. Through the hanging vines that had grown over her home, Tala raised her head, tilting to see an ape, alone as he set down the gong’s stick.
He looked up at her with wide eyes, and he looked beaten.
Tilting her head, Tala asked, “State your business, young ape.”
“You are the Great Dragon,” the ape nearly whispered, caught by her sharp eyes as they flickered. “I…I need your help.”
Tilting her head to the other side, Tala’s lips moved as she spoke, “Has the balance been shifted?”
The ape got to his knees, lifting his palms to the air as he bowed his respect. One of her followers then. The faithful. “I need guidance. An ape threatens the peace of the clans. Uses Caesar’s teachings and calls himself the Proximus Caesar.”
Tala hummed, anger growing at the fact that this new ape dared to call himself Caesar. With a deep growl, Tala asked, “Does he threaten the peace?”
The ape nodded, “Yes, Great Dragon. I beg for your aid, to reinstate the peace that Caesar had left.”
Tala hummed, lowering her head. While she would not serve a war machine, she was a peaceful solution. Her power and might was enough to settle any disputes brought to her attention.
“What is your name, young ape?”
The ape looked up at her, surprise and shock on his face. She patiently waited as he stood up, shaking from nervousness as the creature his tribe revered as their god. Softly, the ape replied, raising a fist as a symbol of greeting.
“My name is Noa, Great Dragon. I need help in saving both humans and apes from this war. And I fear it is only the beginning.”