Ifrit

From an egg hatched a water dragon with wings of flame and a heart that burned like a coal. He covered himself with gold as he went through life covering his weak spots and glittering like the sun. He was a proud dragon, lacking any nest mates or parent's himself and thus found himself without a sense of family or morality. He lived doing whatever he wanted, stealing and fighting as it were. He found himself in many a scrape his notable scar being one right across his eye.
He was named Ifrit, a spirit of fire and destruction, by the lair that took him in. But still they could not tame his spirit.

In this lair he met a lightning dragon that shone like the jewel of the ocean, a gal that was a little wet behind the ears and a lot salty. Naiad seemed to be everything he wasn't, a prized triple color and a shining, faceted masterpiece. She came from a large family and was far used to surrounding herself with family and friends. She was free to go about, making friends and flying high in the sky, only coming down with the rain.
Ifrit found himself drawn to her, at once jealous and obsessed along with dreadfully in love.

Ifrit wanted to impress Naiad and so he tried to catch her attention with great stunts through the trees, but so bright burned his passion that they caught fire and burned, burned, burned.

The area outside the lair was an ashen wasteland, everyone having hid away inside. Ifrit was ashamed like he never was before, seeing Naiad watch from the mouth of the cave with wild, frightened eyes. He sat in the middle of what he had wrought and began to weep.

Naiad was a gentle soul, and forgiving more than most. She felt in her ever flowing heart for this poor burning thing. She crept out despite her friends fearful warnings. She curled comfortingly around Ifrit and cried with him.

And where their tears hit the soil hatched a small baby dragon with wings to hide in the sky and the rest to hide in the wild forest that sprung up around them as their tears watered the scorched earth.

Their child, Orman.