Fantasy A Mage's Pet

[Obsidian]

It has taken weeks to reach this place. High above the world, a young battlemage makes the final climb to the mountain summet, all around him bleached white with thick snow, the biting held at bay by an aura of fire, determination alight in his bright green eyes as he stares up at the peak ahead.

Hendore. A vast mountainous region, made famous for possessing the tallest known mountain in the world, given the name of Heaven's Peak. In eras past, it was believed that the gates to the world of gods existed up here, and that anyone who managed to make it to the peak would be invited into that world by the Gods themselves. But no such event happened, or could happen, for no gates to any world exists up here. For centuries, people made the perilous journey to reach this peak, but the bitter cold and dangerous wildlife always made short work of such adventurers. Not to mention the labyrinthian cave systems and deep crevices that fall down into the blackened depths of the earth. Only a mage could reach this place, and survive the dangers. And this young battlemage has done so, all to take his prize.

It has been known that monsters inhabit all of Hendore, both great and small. But the greatest and strongest of them all are the dragons. As rare as they are powerful, dragons have been a source of myth and legend for generations, and little is truly understood about them since they seclude themselves away from all people everywhere. And it is only in places like this, at the top of mountains far from any semblence of civilisation, where dragons are rumoured to be found. Many kings and nobles have often fantasised about possessing a dragon, having one as a pet and personal protector, perhaps even as a steed. But none ever had the ability to capture one, not without killing it. Mages, however, have other means to bring beasts to heel. And this young battlemage intends to do just last.

Finally reaching the summet, only one relatively small climb remains until one reaches the very tip of this mountain, not that any such climb would be necessary. Within that last rise of stone forms a cave, maw wide open to the battlemage, and he knows that his prize lies just inside. He can feel it. The pulse of a living creatures, beating through the air, felt only through his attunement to magical energies. Carefully and cautiously, the young mage makes his way to the cave, readying for anything.

 

[Risky Vetis]

The mountainous region of Hendore is indeed quite vast, the rolling peaks looked like waves against an ever-changing landscape as the seasons changed yet the mountains remained the same. Deep snow blankets the higher reaches and clouds beckon around the highest peaks where only a singular mountain has breached the cloud cover reaching for the stars above. The humans may have called this Heaven’s Peak believing gods lived just beyond through the gateway beyond. However, the only gate here was reserved for the strongest and most adaptable creatures living on the planet, Dragons.

Just short of the mountain’s peak rested a large cave opening covered in massive ice-sickle stalactites and stalagmites at its entrance, this was the home of dozen of dragons as the perilous height and frigid cold makes it impossible for most creatures to traverse the steep climb. The howling wind often too strong even for the strongest of fliers, only the masters of the sky truly felt at home in the highest reaches of the mountain.

Upon venturing within the cave the few unfortunate souls that have made it this far would be welcomed by the dismembered bodies of the like; dire wolves, saber-cats, roc, humans, and dragons alike. The corpses of those who dare trespass without permission have been left along the frozen wall on display to warm those venturing within the consequences of entering such a place. Random chunks of flesh looked randomly thrown about frozen to the walls and ceilings as piles of metal and cracked armor littered the icy floor

This place was a dragon’s paradise, for just past the first open corridor and into a large open chamber was a massive crack through the floor large enough for a massive dragon to fit, opened up to what looked like an empty abyss. The reflecting light from the cave entrance only lit up the first hundred feet of the sheer drop, but below lay another world entirely. Sheltered by the freezing wind, the deep network of tunnels and caves hidden deep within the bosom of the mountain’s girth was warm and filled with life. Trees and flowers flourished beside giant mushrooms and mosses, light sources in the form of fairies and other sight bugs provided light in the darkness.

This was the dragon’s safe haven away from the ever-changing world beyond, the safest place to rear young and thrive as a diverse population of dragons lived within. This mountain was a dragon’s breeding ground, female that was expecting offspring would often come to these caves and lay their clutches of eggs here to safely raise their offspring. Young dragons often stayed within for their first few decades of life, learning from their elders and growing strong before venturing out to experience the world for themselves. Some leave sooner, but for Rymvar this place was his home.

Like his father before him, Rymvar was the chosen guardian to watch over the entrance of the dragon’s community. It was a task left for the strongest and most well-adapted dragons as the constant cold wasn’t tolerant to all. The snow-white scaled dragon wouldn’t have it any other way, actually enjoying the below-freezing winds and isolation that came with his duties. He enjoyed the silence, having been on babysitting duties for the last few decades had made him a bit impatient with the younger generation. Still, he missed the company, at times he would venture down to catch up with the newest developments and nuzzle with an old friend. This wasn’t such a time.

Resting next to the cave’s entrance although hidden under thick layers of snow and ice, the black spikes of the dragon barely emerged from the drifts of snow resting against the mouth of the cave. It was the perfect place to guard his home, as he would remain unseen yet be alerted of anything that might come wandering up the mountain’s peak and venture within. The sound of metal clinging stirred the dragon from his light slumber as he remained like stone simply listening at this point to see if the intruder would be wise and leave while it still had a chance or if he would have to put a quick end to their life.

The sound of footsteps moving further into the corridor informed the dragon of his necessary role, no one was allowed to discover the dragon’s breeding grounds and survive. If information leeches out that dragons were living within by the hundreds, it would make creatures obsessed with greed and power swarm to this exact spot to try to claim fame or wealth. Humans were a dragon’s biggest threat, over the last century or so dozens of dragons had been slain in the name of glory. Rymvar’s own mother was killed by the hands of humans, his father’s fate was still unknown but he assumed a similar end as it had been a few decades since he last saw his mighty sire.

The sound of ice cracking and falling may have alerted the intruder of movement back at the mouth of the cave, but if they happened to miss the sound then they definitely were alerted moments later as the light from the entrance become blocked. The dragon’s massive form casting shadows into the cave turning the chamber ahead to near darkness as a large form emerged. Just as white as the snow itself, Rymvar’s scales looked like they were made of ice as the light reflected off the smooth surface to the walls surrounding like beads of light. Steam flared from his nostrils as a pulsing blue hue slightly illuminated the tunnel before it, lightening like markings crawling up from the center of his chest and up to his muscular neck. Black spikes protruded from his head, neck, back, wings, and tail; they looked sharp as they grazed the walls leaving lines in the ice-covered walls.

“You should have left when you had the chance human,” the words were deep spoken in the most common of the human tongue. It wasn’t unknown for dragons to learn of the other creatures sharing the world around them, having always been interested in learning new and interesting things Rymvar had made it a goal to learn as many diverse languages as he could. Such knowledge was passed down by older dragons and given the wide diversity of dragons living here within their safe haven, he had access to dozens if not hundreds of different languages of all types of creatures. It was one of the many talents he was recognized for within the dragon community since outsiders seeking shelter would need to pass through him first before being given entry.

 

[Obsidian]

Stepping into the darkness of the cave, and allowing a few moments for his eyes to adjust, the young mage would come to a rather grizzly sight. The corpses of a variety of creatures lay in state before the cave entrance, the stench of death fresh in the air but not of rot, the corpses long frozen solid and preserved as a result. It is unclear how long these bodies have been here, from days to possibly centuries, but the violent and brutal means of their demise were more than visible to the mage. The body of the dragon piqued his interest much more than the others, and he approached it, knowing it to be quite dead but still fascinated with the specimen. If nothing else, it proves that dragons do indeed live up here, and so the battlemage smirks knowing he is on the right track this time.

The mage would soon be pulled away from the dragon corpse to further explore the cave, stepping deeping into the darkness, when he noticed something shimmer. He could just barely perceive that there was some manner of hole in the floor of this cave a little deeper in, and as he stepped out to investigate, he heard the telltale cracking of ice behind him. Turning sharply, the mage would come to find that some creature was now standing behind him, something big with a rather distinct silhouette. Though one may be intimidated by being confronted by a beast in this stalkish manner, this mage was not one to be so easily rattled, and so watched with a calm caution as a light blue hue enveloped the creature before him, watching the source of light travel up the creature's neck, revealing itself visibly to the battlemage.

"It speaks!" The mage would say, a mixture of amusement and surprise in his voice, "Fascinating. Speech will make future exercises much easier. But first..."

The battlemage did not waste a moment further to begin the process of subduing this beast. Green ethereal vapour begin to spawn out of the mages body, surrounding and enveloping him in a misty green glow, before he threw out a punch towards the dragon into the empty air in front of him. At that moment, the dragon would be instantly thrown back at tremendous force, straight out of the cave and onto the snowy peak outside, crashing against the ground like he had just been shot out of a cannon. The battlemage walked out of the cave calmly, but this time with more than just green vapour. Large round ethereal disks now surrounded the mage, depictions of clockwork gears on the faces of each disk, a certain ticking pulse of energy filling the air all around the peak. The mage raised his hands, taking off his helm and throwing it into the snow, revealing his face to the dragon for the first time. He was young, barely a even man, but he grinned with the arrogant confidence of someone much older.

"Let us see what you can do," The mage speak to the dragon, readying for a battle, "Make a good showing for me now. I would hate to have come all this way just to be disappointed."

 

[Risky Vetis]

Not at all worried about facing a mere human, there wasn’t much that could face a dragon equally aside from another dragon. Still, Rymvar let his silver almost invisible irises inspect the intruder a bit more closely. He noticed a few important details about this knight that seemed to suggest this fool was not the normal humans that came up here, this wasn’t some unskilled novice looking to make quick fame for themselves. His posture and calm stance alone even in the presence of a dragon suggested he desired a face-to-face encounter with such a beast. The quality of his weapons and armor also suggested at least some combat training, both appeared well crafted with higher grade metal than the iron melted about the cave.

Still, something felt off, he could sense it. Magic. More curious and confused, the dragon noted the good condition of the human’s armor, polished with only a few nicks noticeable on the helm. The armor showed not a single sign of being en-cumbersome or burdened by the cold, it noticed too the human seemed quite comfortable despite the obvious chill in the air. Shouldn’t he be freezing in that armor in this below zero temperature?

Rymvar paused at the other’s words, ‘future exercises?’ What in the nine hells did that mean? It was far from the usual threat directed at him, usual threats such as promising his painful demise. A promise that has yet to be kept by a single challenger, so much so that the dragon shared not a single scratch or scar on his hide showing his numerous fought battles. Most fall to a puddle of blood and metal the moment they face his fiery breath. But this human didn’t spout such nonsense, instead, he genuinely showed surprise perhaps excitement as well. Before he could put much more thought into any of this, the human swiftly went into motion.

The green vapour pouring out of them human immediately made Rymvar’s eyes widen in shock, he could sense the magic oozing from the knight despite knowing it was utterly impossible for such a simple creature like a human to ever possess magic. Was this some trick? The sudden powerful force hit him with enormous strength knocking him back completely out of the cave and into the snowy peak where he collided into the ice frozen snow. The blow was more surprising than painful, something he honestly wasn’t expecting as he roaring out in anger.

Quick to rise and stretch out his wings in a threatening display, the dragon bared its massive fangs at the approaching human. His spiked tail whipped across the air and ground behind him showing his growing agitation at the attack. However his eyes narrowed upon noticing the ethereal disks floating around the human, he too could feel the pulsing energy in the air around them. That wasn’t just magic, it was advanced magic.

“When did humans come to possess magic?” The dragon growled, he was concerned. Not for himself, but what the future may hold for the dragon population. Humans have a history of destruction and greed, if they now possessed magic it would only be a matter of time before the battle of power between the two forces would collide. He needed more information, he needed to warn the others of this new threat.

The human removed his helm and again the dragon was surprised, it was young. Not even a full adult yet and it held this much power already. Rymvar needed to eliminate this threat immediately. “Disappointed? Clearly, you have a death wise.” Rymvar reared up and unleashed his fiery breath, the flames white and light blue shooting out in cone before him. The flames were hotter than normal flames, the contact with the frigid air instantly creating a cloud of steam around the hot inferno. He held his breath for nearly a full minute before letting the flames cease and waiting for the white smoke screen to reveal the fate of the human. The ice in the surrounding area bubbles as if boiling, the frosty wind already freezing the edges of the blaze sight.

 

[Obsidian]

Once the dragon had ceased it's attack, stared into the wall of thick steam, it would see something shine in the mist, green, before a torent of green flames would spew out of the mist, a spray of fire that spread wide and unfocused. It did not take long for the flames to dissipate, however, and an unnatural gust of wind would blow away the wall of steam, revealing the young mage, unharmed and grinning. Out of the dragon's sight, the young mage used his magic not to protect himself from the dragon's flame, but to capture it, turning one of the disks into a funnel, absorbing the dragon's power before turning it against it's own master. But unlike the dragon, this mage did not have a clear line of sight, and the fire sprayed over a wide area. Not to harm the dragon. To warn it.

"Strong flame," The mage noted, clearly pleased, "That is good. But you will have to do better than that if you want to crack my shields."

Surrounded by disks, forming a protecting hemisphere around him, the mage would again become enveloped in his green vapour, his eyes starting to glow an ethereal green as he pulsed with power. Just behind him, bundles of snow rise off from the ground and hover in the air, first dozens but quickly hundreds. With a clench of his hands, the snow compacted into solid spears of green-tinted ice, with deadly sharp points aimed maliciously at the dragon.

"Let us see how well you can dodge attacks," The mage said with appraisal, "Do keep up, now. I don't want to see even a single scratch on your hide."

At that moment, the mage would point at the dragon with the first two fingers of his right hand, and suddenly a dozen ice spears would be launched at the dragon at high speed. The mage kept pointing at the dragon, tracking it's movements, launching spears in dozens, one set after another after another after another, until not one spear remained.

 

[Risky Vetis]

Confident his flames have done the trick to rid himself of this troublesome human, the dragon doubted even a mere mortal with some magical talent would expect a fire attack from a silvery white scaled wyvern. It was commonly known that white dragons controlled the elements of ice, not fire thus why even other stronger willed beings failed to put even a scratch on the massive beast. There was a reason he was chosen to become the protector of the nesting grounds, even so, his surprise was profound when green flames shot out through the steam in a wide array. Confused yet not in immediate danger as the flames blazed around the area not exactly close to him, the warning was regarded coldly as he growled at the cocky child grinning back at him.

Rymvar snapped his jaws at the other smug comments, wanting nothing more to snap the punk in half. There was a reason he kept his distance, he was cautious. Not knowing the full extent of the other’s power nor the source since mere humans didn’t naturally possess magic, the dragon was studying the other closely trying to learn knowledge of the other’s threat, limitations and if possible, weaknesses. Thus far he was determined that the other was unaffected by the bitter chill nor was he bothered by the high altitude or the thinner air.

Something about the disks hovering around the human was protecting him, the dragon assumed watching the other closely as the same green vapour as before started to pour out of him like before. Something about it didn’t feel natural, didn’t feel pure. Where was this human drawing his power from? Observing several chunks of snow floating into the air quickly becoming several hundred with the matter of a few heartbeats, the dragon didn’t seem overly alarmed as it guessed the purpose. When they reformed into spears of ice, the dragon examined them only momentarily listening to the other’s words. Still, it made no immediate move to flee as the white dragon stood its ground. It didn’t like how the other spoke, was this human testing him? Why?

Taking in a deep breath, Rymvar released his fire at the first volley of spears. But unlike before where his flames shot out in a cone, this flame was short-ranged and focused. Pure white without a hint of blue, it melted the spears with a sizzling hiss only the smallest shards coming through to collide against his thick scales. It felt like arrows pinging off his hide, ineffective and pathetic. The dragon didn’t fear fire or ice attacks, it was confident in its own abilities to counter such attacks. However, it didn’t have the stamina to keep such a breath attack going long enough to stay off the attack.

Snapping its wings a few moments before his flames were about to run out, the cloud of steam masked his movements as the wyvern shot up into the air breaking through the wall of steam to close the gap between him and the human. There were only a few dozen spears left, but this didn’t concern the massive reptile much. So long as they didn’t pierce his wings and disable his flying he had nothing to really worry about. Having battled many mythical creatures within his lifetime, even other dragons. These thick scales appeared smooth without a single sign of any injuries, they were strong enough to protect him again the bite of other larger dragons so ice didn’t concern him.

As the next wave of spears launched at him, Rymvar averted his flight path to protect his wings letting the spears hit his body mass at full speed. Like he predicted the spears of ice crashed against his scales with bruising force but didn’t pierce as they shattered on impact. The dragon would take the hits willingly being aware of the spear’s flight path to avoid them hitting potential hazardous injuries to his face and wings mostly. His chest and lower abdomen took the brunt of the assault, but still, the dragon approached with new determination.

If he couldn’t kill the other with his fiery breath then perhaps direct attacks were his best options. Snapping his jaws at the human as he grew close, he took the last barrage broadside flinching as one spear happened to hit his wing joint next to the claw at the wrist. That particular hit did cause a great deal of pain, but the dragon chose to ignore the damage as he redirected his pain into anger. Finally, within biting range, Rymvar snapped his massive jaws at the human intending to bite this human in half and end this fight once in for all. He could rest and assess his injuries later, this human needed to die. If he wanted to, he could easily eat this human up in two bites, with or without armor.

 

[Obsidian]

Of course, as the dragon brought down his bite upon the battlemage, his jaws would slam down against the ethereal shield of disks, coming in close and thus giving the battlemage a good view of the dragon as a whole. The mage could easily see that his ice spears did no damage to the dragon, which pleased him. As the dragon bit down, however, the disks in contact with the dragon's teeth actually started to crack under the pressure. Rather than be alarmed, the battlemage merely observed his own shield splintering for a moment, before looking to the dragon rather piercingly.

"I think you shall do nicely," The mage would tell the dragon, "Time for us to head home, dragon."

Once more, green vapour surrounded the battlemage and the pulse of magic rippled through the air, before the mage projected one of his protective disks against the dragon's chest outward, striking the dragon with tremendous force and throwing the great beast back several metres. Now clear of the dragon's jaws, the mage lowered his shields and they dissipated back into simple green vapour, consolidating back with the rest of the mage's power before casting out another spell. As the dragon recovered from being thrown back, ethereal green chains would force themselves around the dragon's arms, gripping him tightly and forcing him up into the air, stretching the dragon's arms wide as further chains wrapped around the dragon's muzzle and legs, holding the beast carefully in place.

Then, with the dragon facing the mage, he would approach with something in hand. A crystal orb of some sort. As the mage came close, something about the orb tugged at something spiritual within the dragon, almost as though it was tugging at his soul. With another flash of green vapour, the dragon would suddenly feel something being pulled from him, and sure enough something was pulled. A ribbon of white ethereal energy was forced out of the dragon's chest, drawing close and closer to the mage until it touched the orb, the energy sinking within the tiny crystal prison. The dragon would fill itself be drained of his power, his will, and his strength. Within moments, the dragon could feel itself physically change, it's body reshaping itself, horns being forced back into his skull and spine, legs snapping into strange angles, his wings and tail atrophying away, his muzzle being forced back against his face, and scales turned to skin and hair.

All within the space of half a minute, the orb had stolen away the dragon's very essence, turning it from a proud beast of legend into a mere human. The orb glowed a brilliant white in the battlemage's hand, and he examined it fondly for a moment, before it vanished into a cloud of green vapour. The mage turned his attention to the dragon, now a human, and released him from his bonds to drop it down onto the icy cold snow.

"Amazing what magic can do, isn't it?" The mage fused in his cockly manner, "So, that is what you look like underneath all those scales. You don't look half bad."

 

[Risky Vetis]

Growling with new vigor, the wyvern realized that his fiery breath wasn’t going to be enough to kill this intruder quickly as it had originally hoped. Quick to deduct the next course of action, he chose to use his strength to overcome the magic-user as he flew directly at the human closing the distance between them quickly. Snapping his jaws closed around what would have been the human’s upper torso, it didn’t exactly surprise the dragon that his teeth found resistance in the force of magic. Magic might be able to protect the intruder for how, but all magic has its limits whereas his bite force was raw power. What would prove the stronger?

Rymvar knew his answer as he heard the sound of something cracking under the intense pressure, this gave him a false sense of victory as he focused on breaking through the barrier so he could destroy this threat and alert his kin to the new dangers of man. Had he not cracked through the barrier, there were a few other tricks that he had planned on deploying to get the job done but alas it wasn’t necessary. His physical strength alone was enough and that made him confident enough to abandon the level of caution he had been enforcing until now. The wyvern couldn’t see the human around his open maw, but he heard the other’s calm words and paused at the other’s statement. ‘Time for us to head home?’ Confusion swirled through this mind not understanding how the human who was about to be chomped in half was so calm and cocky. What did he know that the dragon did not?

Hit hard in the chest by an unseen force, Rymvar fell back many feet snarling back at the magic-user snapping its jaws. It knew it was close, he had felt the barrier shattering under his power so all he needed to do was break that and he had the human. Charging back in with the intention of swinging around sharply to let his spiked tail break the shield so he could deliver the final blow, the wyvern was caught off guard when the barrier suddenly vanished into a green vapour. That was a poor decision on the other’s part, or so he thought.

Chains appeared out of thin air snatching his spread wings hooking around his black spikes and pulling his wings wide stopping his momentum. Suspended in the air by an unseen force, Rymvar roared loudly understanding this was the human’s doing, and turned his maw in the other’s direction with the intention of releasing his breath. More chains snaked around his form faster than he could unleash his attack, halting his attempt to counter as he was left bound and helpless in the air. Enraged by all of this, the wyvern refused to simply accept his death as he pulled and struggled with all his might to try to break free from the bounds.

He had not been particularly paying attention to what the human was doing, but as he felt the sudden pull from deep within his chest his attention instantly snapped to the human and to the crystal he was holding. So sudden and swift was the pain, Rymvar didn’t even have a moment to fathom what could happen before he was blinded with such intense pain coming straight from his core. There were no words to explain the amount of pain coursing through his form, burning hotter than anything he has ever felt before. It felt like someone had reached into his chest and was pulling out his heart, no... The wyvern snapped its eyes open through the sheer agony having noticed the white ethereal flow being pulled from him and going into the stone.

His soul...

Rymvar suddenly realized what was happening and growled menacingly through the pain trying to fight this strange power, using whatever strength and magic he still held to fight the force stealing his essence from him. How on earth did a human have this much power? This shouldn’t be possible. Shaking his head violently trying desperately now to break free to the chains to at least try to run away with what power he still had, his efforts were fruitless as the chains held fast despite his struggles. Still, he fought with every ounce of strength he had left, refusing to allow a mere human to control his fate.

Bones cracked and began to shrink as they began reshaping to a new form, overwhelmed by this new pain as his body was forced to change against his will. Muscles and limbs tensed so abruptly that it left him struggling to even breathe as the first change force a level of pain so immense that at that moment he was a prisoner to his own body. Bones broke and refused together, horns and scales shrunk and absorbed into paler skin that was replacing them. White hair wildly whipped in the wind as it sprung out from his head, long and untamed. His facial expression looked like one of horror as the shape of the wyvern’s head shrunk and reformed becoming more and more like a human’s face. This jaw clamped shut at the grimace masking his agony through closed eyes, this was torture.

When the pain subsided as the change completed a few heartbeats later, Rymvar was left struggling to regain control of his breathing as his entire body ached in ways he never thought possible. Gasping for air as his heart pounded heavily against his chest, everything in his body hurt and even the small attempt to lift his head left him with a raging headache that showed no signs of relenting. Before he could ever hope to recover, he felt himself falling and could do nothing to brace himself as he fell helplessly into the snow below. At least it was soft enough to cushion his fall, not that it mattered much. Left nude too weak to try to move even an inch, the wyvern...now human was left lying in the deep snow shaking not from the cold but rather aftershock from the change. The reality of what happened had yet to fully set in and as the man opened his silver eyes to stare at the snow with blank eyes, it didn’t immediately dawn on him that he was still alive. In a state of shock, the growing darkness filtering through his vision seemed like a welcoming release as his mind slipped away into unconsciousness.

 

[Obsidian]

"Unconscious. Great." The battlemage sighed, looking down upon his prize, "I suppose the first time is always the worst. Let us hope this is not a repeat occurrance."

~~~

In the dark recesses of the dragon's mind, sounds could be hear, muffled and intelligible voices at most times, like listening for something from over a great distance. But, every now and then, those voices would grow near, clear enough to discern. Other sounds could be heard as well, of objects around him, the clank of metal or the rustle of trees. The smells of flowers, of human sweat, and other things not yet known to the dragon. And in those moments, when such senses come clear together, a picture can be formed in one's mind.

~~~

A sound something like a burst of magic, the light click of metal, and shudder of an opening door with the sound of an unoiled hinge. The sounds of the outside can be heard, the gentle breeze and the song of birds, but it does not last. Footsteps tap on wooden boards, more than one pair, and the door swing again with a slam, and the sounds of the outside world die away into silence.

"I can't believe that worked." A voice would speak, a male one, a coarse one, "You got the vial?"

"This is supposed to be a dragon?" Another voice spoke, a deep voice, "This is the funniest looking dragon I've ever seen. You sure we got the right one?"

"Lord Everon says that this is the dragon, so this is the dragon." The first voice speaks again, "Who cares what it looks like? We're here to do a job. Now pass me the vial. We have to do this quick before the dipshit guards come back."

"Do we really want to do this?" A third voice speaks now, a woman, "This is Lord Everon's dragon we're about to kill. If he catches us--"

"He won't catch us!" The first voice speaks again, irritation clouding his words, making him speak louder than their whispers, before the distinct sound of a popped cork can be heard, "Now shut up and open his--"

Things happened very quickly in the next few moments. There is the shaking of the world around the dragon, a door being torn off at violent force, screams of the three previous voices, and the dragon slips deeper into his unconsciousness soon afterward.

~~~

Another moment of clarity. There is shouting of one voice, and the screaming of another. The sound comes slowly, but eventually grows clear, including the sounds of magic being used. What is happening is not as close to the dragon than last time, but close enough to hear clearly.

"--the last time, who hired you!" A voice would speak, a familiar one to the dragon, the battlemage he fought against, "I can make this go on and on and on forever, assassin! Give me a name!"

"I told you, milord, I don't--" The second voice would shout, pained and panicked, before a burst of agonising screaming could be heard, loud and harrowing, accompanied with the sound of some manner of magic as well as the distinct tearing of flesh and shattering of bone. After a few long moments of this, the sounds of magic stops, and the screams die off into sobbing and whimpering.

"Give me a name, assassin!" The Lord would shouts again, impatience edging his voice, "This will never end until you give me a name!"

"I-I-I told you, milord, we don't know who it was." The tortured man speaks again through pained sobs, and from the voice, it is probably the second man, the one with the deep voice, "A cloaked man came to us, knew we were desperate for money. He promised us wealth if we infiltrated your expedition and kill any dragon you managed to find. That's it. That's all I know, I swear to the Gods!"

"You expect me to believe that you know nothing more?!" The Lord speaks again in vindictive mockery, "Even if I have to tear the memory out of your skull, I will get what I want!"

The torture would continue further, more screaming and more rending of flesh and bone, more questions asked by the battlemage that the assassin could not answer, repeating in cycles until the dragon's mind slipped down into the darkness again.

~~~

Another surfacing. At first, it seems indistinguishable from the darkness, distant sounds and other sensations that cannot be made out, white noise colouring the silence. But then voices spoke, clear as a bell, and suddenly out of nowhere.

"Do you think he's ever going to wake up?" One voice spoke, a new one, a male one, somewhat more refined, "He's been out for three days now. Lord Everon is getting more and more anxious about him."

"Who knows?" Another voice speaks, this one refined as well, though lighter, "I'm just glad the purges have finally stopped. Gods, the smell of burnings. I'm not going to be able to eat meat for weeks."

"Did you see that look in Lord Everon's eyes?" The first guard speaks again, this time in a whisper, "Gods, the Magisters aren't human, are they? Who enjoys something like that?"

"Bet he would." The second guard speaks again, soon becoming clear who he speaks of, "That's what dragons do, right? Burn people alive? They're ruthless beasts, dragons. Oh, sure, he looks peaceful laying there like that right now, but once he gets his dragon form back, he'll turn into something from the Seven Hells. No wonder the Magisters like them so much. Just be glad you didn't join the others in the burnings. Long and nasty way to die."

"When will Lord Everon be back?" The first guard asks, "He should have been back by now, right?"

"Maybe he found something." The second voice says, "He hasn't properly rested since the assassination attempt. Maybe he finally found a lead."

"I hope so." The first speaks again, with a nervous sigh, "Maybe then he'll chill out."

Once more, the dragon's consciousness receded back into the darkness, and the chattering continues without his earsdropping.

~~~

And, at long last, the dragon's consciousness would finally emerge, this time in full. The dragon would find himself in a comfortable bed, within spacious white sheeted square tent with the dragon centred in the middle, the red of the setting sun bleaching the sheets a bright crimson. Some five feet to the dragon's right would be a table, with strange coloured bottles sitting on top, along with two porcelain bowls and an bundle of white clothes. The white sheets of the tent also line the floor of the tent, but with a large plush furred rug sitting in the centre and covering all but the edges and corners of the tent. The entrance flap of the tent lay in front of the dragon, and to the right of the entrance flap would stand another bed of fine quality, and a finely made wardrobe would stand on the left of the flap.

On either side of the entrance stood two guards, both wearing ornate silver armour with golden trims, a green tabbard covering their bodies with long caps draping down their backs. Their tabbards and capes would possess heraldry, perhaps one the dragon might recognise, a symbolic representation of Yggdrasil, the Eternal Tree of Life, said to bear fruit that could gift those who eat them eternal youth. A myth for humans, and an appropriate sigil for a powerful mage lord.

The two guards stood staring at the dragon as he stirs awake, surprise colouring their expressions, before one of them speaks out with a familiar voice.

"The dragon is awake!" The guard on the right says, before turning to the other, "Quick, go inform our Lord!"

Without argue, the other guard left in a hurry, while the other turns back to the dragon, not moving from his spot.

As the dragon would move and shift, his whole body would feel sticky, the sheets covering both himself and the mattress would cling to his skin, and, if he lifted the sheets, his body would smell strongly of sweetness and flowers. The same smell would also eminate from the table, from one of the bowls laying there.

 

[Risky Vetis]

Feeling as if he was falling into an empty void, the darkness was pitch black without any sense of direction as Rymvar found himself slowly spinning in nothingness. He saw himself, his wings and tail flailing helplessly against the empty expansion trying to find some sort of center only succeeding in confusing himself as every effort was wasted. Lost within his own mind, nothing seemed to make sense as this wasn’t the norm. This wasn’t a dream, it was different. It felt surreal like he was consciously aware but at the same time completely lost. The clank of metal echoed through the darkness at times, oftentimes very distant and at times so close that it felt like it was right beside him. This feeling unnerved the dragon as the sound seemed to be the only sense he had any access to.

Trying to remember what brought him here, the last moments of what he could remember was a blur. The dragon could remember hot searing pain, so intense it felt like he was melting from the inside out. He also intently remembers feeling a sharp tug in his chest, a pull that would not relent no matter how hard he tried to lessen the strain. Then the sound of bones breaking and screaming, who was screaming?

The realization took a few moments for the truth to fully settle in and when it did Rymvar found his image shifting, the wings, and scales of his form dissolving away into the blackness leaving behind the body of a human. Silvery white hair settled against cream-colored skin, resting around broad shoulders and down the back nearly reaching the buttock. The human’s chest was muscular, well-developed abs defined the wide frame a pronounced collar bone. The shoulders and arms were similarly developed, showing strong muscles. Legs seemed less defined, long and more slender.

Who was this?

Staring at himself, it was the silver eyes staring back at him that told him his worst fear. This was him. He was human. But how the hell was this possible. Growling into the empty void, Rymvar shouted into the recess of his mind for answers. But he was alone here. Trapped. Suspended with no control, the dragon now human image drifted listlessly through the darkness feeling furious and weary all at once.

Time didn’t seem to exist here as it felt like months, maybe even years were simply passing by as he floated through the deepest corners of his mind. Sounds of all sorts echoed around him at times, but with no clear way of knowing if they were real, it was hard to figure out what any of them meant. However, as a male voice echoed somewhere beside him, Rymvar found himself listening intently trying to find clues as to his current whereabouts.

‘Vial?’ They were talking about him, multiple voices now. ‘Lord Everon?’ Having some information, Rymvar felt a chill run up his spine as a woman asked a question that disturbed him more than a little. Kill. Why were they talking about killing Lord Everon’s dragon, who was the dragon in question? He wondered briefly if this dragon had fallen victim to the same trickery that he had fallen for. Wait...

They were talking about him.

Growling threats of agonizing death to any who dare harm or even touch him, his shouts only echoed through the void around him as he was helpless to do anything to protect himself while he was trapped here. Frantically frustrated as he was powerless to stop what was about to happen, the darkness around him seemed to shake violently as the sound of splintering wood and bending metal clashed all around him. It was loud, painfully so as screams of pain overwhelmed him. Then suddenly silence.

It was some time before any noises returned, although it was barely audible. The screams were still there, but thankfully they weren’t as painful to his ears. There was a moment of clarity as a familiar voice spoke somewhere nearby, it was the mage. Simply hearing his voice made Rymvar fill with a deep hatred, he did this. He took away his form and trapped him here in this darkness to suffer. The moment he gets his hands on him, no... The moment he gets his fangs over him, he was dead. It was there, somewhere close. He could feel it, his soul. It was tugging at his conscious almost like a gentle beat, like the flapping of wings somewhere so far yet so close. He focused on that rather than the voices around him as the screaming was more than a little annoying to the mighty beast. How far he as fallen, would he ever return to his former glory?

Falling again as the voices trailed away, Rymvar felt his other half drift further away and couldn’t help but cry out at the pain of being away from it had brought. It wasn’t like losing a close friend or even family, losing a mate felt nothing like this. This pain was sharper and different. Feeling his soul move further and further away until it seemed to vanish, there was no hiding how miserable and lost he felt. What if it's gone forever? What happens then? Would he be stuck in this pathetic form? As a human?

Voices close by broke him out of his downward spiral of helplessness as that name again resurfaced, the dragon figured that must be the human that tricked him with his evil sorcery. The type of magic he used was dangerous, uncontrollably to most, and yet the mage had wielded it with relative ease. How did a human learn to control such magic? Only a few select species could control such power, the majority of them being dragons alone. So how did a mere human possess such power, was there a dragon teaching human’s magic somewhere in the world? And why? He had so many questions, but part of him didn’t really care all too much. There was a single thought circling through his mind, he needed to regain his soul and find a way to return to his former self and destroy this overwhelming threat. Only then would he seek out answers to the troubling change of events.

*****

Stirring slowly as Rymvar became aware of more than just sounds and voices, the first few things he noticed was a constant ache throughout his entire body. A stiffness throughout all his limbs and joints as he shifted his legs and arms on a soft surface. His eyelids felt heavy as he blinked, gray eyes squinting against the brightness of the red gloom. Every movement felt difficult, not exactly painful but not a simple task either. Stilling as his eyes fell about his own hand, he observed it momentarily as if deciding if this was a dream or not.

Voices break him out of his thoughts, his gaze shifting to the two guards observing him. His eyes widened upon recognizing the banner, Yggdrasil was a symbol of the Eternal Tree of Life. He had only had a few run-ins with this group recently, the humans have been intruding into his domain over the last few years. As guardian of the breeding grounds, it was often his duty to investigate rumors of humans venturing into their territory and at times destroy them before they can become a pest. It wouldn’t be the first time he had let his flames descend upon human encampment and villages to rid them from his homeland.


It won't be the last time either, that much Rymvar was positive as he had every plan to set this place and everyone within it ablaze the first chance he got. However he had to focus on one step at a time, currently, his priority was finding where that mage was and obtaining his soul. He could feel it, his gaze shifting outward to stare at the side of the tent toward the pull of his other half. It was close, but not in this tent. Figures. Struggling to rise as these limbs felt foreign to him, the dragon growled in frustration hating everything about this body. It was a challenge, the joints bend different now making adjusting to the balance more than a little annoying for the new human.

Cursing, it was only then that he noticed how dry his mouth was. Parched uncomfortably so, his eyes scanned the room looking for something to drink as he realized he would first have to meet his physical needs and gain better control and understanding over this body if he hoped to overpower the human who took his soul and get it back. He didn’t even bother trying to call forth his magic, he could feel within himself that he had none. Not in this form. Caring little of the eyes watching him, Rymvar attempted to stand to try to reach a nearby table. There were some bottles there, perhaps something to drink.

The sheets sticking to his skin was bothersome, he didn’t understand why they clung to his skin until he raised his arm up to notice a sticky residue layered all over his skin. What the hell? Closer inspection confused him further, it smelt sweet and floral notes so overwhelming it made his head spin slightly. His nose wrinkled up in disgust, noting it was spread all over his entire form. The thought of humans touching him unhinged him quite a bit, he was indeed going to enjoy burning them all to a crisp.

Tentatively taking his first step away from the mattress, it didn’t seem too difficult to walk as he took another and another. His legs felt weak but strong enough to hold his weight as he approached the table. Letting his eyes scan over the contents of the table, Rymvar didn’t like what he saw and shifting his attention to the room around him to take in more details. Noting another bed and a wardrobe, thoughts of securing a weapon seemed to hasten his movements too quickly for his legs to follow. Two hurried steps toward his new destination, he was caught off guard as he tripped over the fur rug at his feet sending him to the ground. He barely caught himself in time, but the fall seemed to remind the dragon of how vulnerable he was at this moment.

Having caught himself with his outstretched hands, he couldn’t ignore the slight pain the impact caused to his right palm. It was the same spot he took an ice spear with the fight against the mage, opening his palm slowly he would notice the bruising clearly against the creamy pale skin. A glance down at his chest showed a similar bluish pigment all across his chest where he had taken many blows against the human's barrage. Alright, that was a little concerning. He may not have pierced his dragon scales, but the blows still did enough damage to cause Rymvar more than a little discomfort.

“Pathetic,” he growled inwardly, hating the fact that he was a weak human. Quite aware of the guard watching him, the dragon seemed to refuse that he even existed as he focused solely on himself adjusting to the feeling of this new body.

 

[Obsidian]

Suddenly, the flap to the tent flew aside, and in stepped a familiar face for the dragon. Lord Everon. The battlemage. As soon as the battlemage entered the tent, the dragon would be able to feel it, his soul now here, not in any one place but surrounding the battlemage, like an aura. The souls is right here, and yet it is not at the same time. The mage himself, meanwhile, grinned from ear to ear at the sight of the dragon.

"Lord Everon. I have left the dragon alone, just as you asked," The remaining guard said, Everon with his back to him, the guard looking at Everon nervously, "Do you have any orders for me, my lord?"

"No," Everon said, before looking back to the guard, "Stand with Devon outside for now. I wish to be alone with my guest."

The guard gave a bow to the mage, and then he stepped outside as ordered. Everon and the dragon were now alone, and Everon's grin shrank into a smirk, standing by the tent flap with hands at his hips, just observing the dragon.

"Having a bit of trouble with your new form, I see." Everon said as he watched the dragon struggle, "I am sure it will get used to it before long. You will have to, after all. You simply cannot walk the streets of your new home in your full dragon form. You'll terrify the little people, you see."

"You may want to clean yourself up," Everon continues, turning from the dragon to walk over to the table, coming to the empty bowl on the table before laying his finger on the rim. With a burst of magic, the bowl miraculously became filled with water, to which Everon then added rose pettles that floated on the surface as added scent.

"Since you were unconscious, there was no way of feeding you. We have a solution for such situations, a nutrient salves, a paste applied to the skin all over the body so that the nutrients may be absorbed through the skin. It can feel... unpleasant after a while, but it makes you smell wonderful." Everon told the dragon, turning to him as he tapped on the bowl, "Use this rose water and these cloths to clean yourself up, once you master standing under your own power. A servant will be here sortly with some clothes for you. I hope you like them, dragon. I chose them myself."

 

[Risky Vetis]

Brow's narrowing as he glared at the human who captured him, Rymvar growled lowly his eyes glaring yet searching all at once. He could feel it, his soul was on the other person somewhere. It was only a matter of getting it and figuring out how to release his soul before he could set this all behind him and leave behind a field of ash in his wake. Easier said than done, the wyvern realized noticing he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the source of his spirit. But rather than it completely surrounded the mage, the solution was simple. Kill the mage and take back what was taken from him.

Observing the interaction between the two humans, it was hard to miss the air of superiority the battlemage had over the other. The simple title of ‘lord’ was enough to know that these men were under these ones orders. This could bring about more complications than the dragon desired to handle, dealing with one human with magical abilities was difficult already. Mix in more humans, things could become more bothersome than it needed to be. Choosing to sit back and observe, there was an air of caution around the wyvern. He had already been fooled, having underestimated the full capabilities of the mage losing half of himself in the process.

Still, he wanted nothing more than to claw that smirk right off the other’s smug face, the cockiness was more than a little aggravating to ignore. “This is not my home, never will be. I’d sooner watch it burn than consider it such.” Rymvar was quick to declare at the other’s words, there was no part of him that wanted this. To be tricked, have his soul stolen, and be taken away from his home upon the highest reaches. The lick of the cold air was already missed as the warmth that clung to this breeze was more than a little uncomfortable to the cold-loving beast. “You humans should be terrified of me, first chance I get all of this will be turned to ash. You have my word, trickster. I will take back what you have stolen from me, and when I do I will make sure to let you burn slowly so you have feel every once of hatred I harbor for you and your wrecked kind.”

Spitting out the words with every ounce of venom he could muster, the dragon narrowed his eyes but otherwise remained on the ground as his legs seemed unwilling to obey his commands to stand in defiance. Again the change of his body structure seemed to confuse him as he realized just how different this body was to his dragon form, joints don’t bend that way anymore. Deciding to just settle back and not make a fool of himself by further demonstrating what little understanding he had of this body, he found a semi-comfortable position sitting back on his knees and letting his bum rest against the fur rug.

He watched the human move over to the table and use magic to fill the bowl previously empty with water. For a moment he considered doing what the other asked, since the sticky substance on his flesh bothered him more than a little. However, the addition of rose petals destroyed that desire, “what makes you think I would have any desire to smell like you humans. Or dress like your kind? What need of clothes does a dragon need?” He pointed out not feeling at all bothered by his own nudity, it felt completely natural to be bare and free from any resistance.

Something caught his attention past the battlemage, from his position on the ground he could see the movement of some sort of creature scurrying along the white folds of the tent. It was small, perhaps a rabbit or rodent of some sort. An idea popped in his head then, he may not be able to use his own magic from within his own power. But there were languages created through magic, races that have woven influence of natural magical properties that could alter weather and creatures actions. Elves were famously known for the earth and nature-based magic. It didn’t require actual magical skill only understanding of the magic flowing through the ground and all living creatures, and knowledge of the language. The knowledge he knew.

“Tul- na nin.”

Rymvar spoke the words softly trying to not alert the human of his actions and seeing if his plan would work at all, at first it seemed like the creature had not been influenced by his command. But after a few moments, it turned and approached the white fabric of the tent, squeezing underneath the soft folds a small rabbit slowly emerged through the gap between the corner post of the structure. The dragon smiled as the small critter continued to approach and turned his gaze back at the human with his own smirk. “You may have stolen my soul and trapped me in this weak form, but I am far from powerless. It is only a matter of time before you let down your guard, and when you do I will have the final laugh. I will take back what is mine, with blood and fire.”

Grabbing the rabbit suddenly as it came within reach, there was no hesitation as he brought the poor critter to his mouth and tore out its throat. The spray of blood washed over his face as the rodent struggled for a few seconds within his grasp, he let the blood shower over him keeping his eyes locked on the human to show him his defiance. Screw this human's perfect white walls and aura of superiority. Where there was a will, there was a way. Plus smelling of blood was preferred over flowery fragrances, he was a dragon. A creature that killed to survive. It was either kill or be killed. That was the only rule he had to obey when it came to surviving in this world. Nothing else mattered. Tossing aside the corpse as the flailing rabbit quickly stilled, he made sure to toss it with enough force to hit the side of the white tent leaving a splatter of blood there.

"I won't be controlled, nor will I be told what to do. Not by a pathetic species who lie and cheat to obtain power, I obey no one but myself. A dragon is a slave to no one."

 

[Obsidian]

"You really are quite a beast, aren't you?" Everon with a smirk, observing the blood dripping down the dragon's chiselled torso, watching as the rabbit is tossed away, striking the tent wall before dropping to the floor, blood soaking into the tent's fibres. Then, Everon would walk over to the dragon, standing in front of him, and he croached to the dragon's level and looked the creature in the eyes. The mage could smell the freshly drawn blood thick in the air surrounding the dragon, and the dragon would be able to smell the scent of flowers surrounding the mage.

"I am your master now, dragon." Everon would tell him, edging his voice with a seductive tone, "By right of conquest, you are mine. You may not like it, but that is your reality now. You will struggle and resist at first, as all things do, but in time you will bend to my will and you will even come to enjoy it. Not only will you serve me, dragon, but you will do so eagerly, and your service to me will become the purpose and pleasure of your life. You may not think so right now, but it is only a matter of time until you submit."

"As for the slave aspect, well, I do not require a slave, dragon. If that is all I desired, any number of creatures would have done." Everon told him, looking at the dragon with an appraising look, "I have far more ambitious plans for you. You will soon come to see that your world is changing, dragon. It was once the case that dragons were creatures feared by all, the top predator, insurmountable in their power and strength. But humanity is quickly catching up. After all, I defeated you, dragon. Of course, I did have the advantage in our fight. You underestimated me. You saw what you wanted to see, a puny little human, rather than for the threat that I truly was. If you had realised, our battle would have been harder for me, perhaps we may have been evenly matched."

"As it was, however, you fell." Everon said, his expression shifting, changing from smugness to something more serious, more troubled, "And soon shall the rest of your kind. Today, a mage alone can best a dragon. Before long, warriors will be able to do the same, not fighting dragons alone in single combat, but in organised teams, with the help of technology. When that day comes, dragon, it will be the beginning of the end for your species. You will all die out, one by one, until none of you remain. What the rest of humanity sees in you is a monster, a rabid beast that ought to be destroyed. But I see something different. I see a very different future, both for your kind and mine."

It would be at this point that the tent flap would be thrown aside, taking Everon's attention away from the dragon, and he stands to find Devon at the entrance.

"My lord, the clothing you sent for is here." The guard said, Everon giving a nod, and the guard steps aside to allow a young male human servants into the tent. He was very young, about 16 years old, and clearly nervous. The young servant approached his Lord, and presented the clothes bundle to him with a bow. Everon, amused, takes the bundle, and the boy quickly turns to leave but Everon speaks up.

"Did I say you could leave?" Everon speaks, his voice stern and sharp, and the boy freezes before turning around.

"N-N-No, my Lord. I-I'm sorry." The boy squeaks, trying to bow again, "H-How might I serve?"

"Assist my guest here. See to it he is properly washed and dressed." Everon says, before turning to the dragon, "Oh, and if you harm my servants, dragon, you will be punished. You have been warned."

With that, Lord Everon took his leave of the tent, both the dragon and the boy now alone in the tent. To the Lord's exit, the boy gave a nervous sigh of relief, before looking at the dragon. Seeing the blood, the boy turned and headed over to the table, taking the bowl of rose-scented water and a cloth. He walked back to the dragon, kneeling down at his side before laying the bowl in front of him, soaking the cloth in the water before wringing it out tight.

"Are you alright?" The boy asked, his voice betraying his innocence, looking at the blood with genuine concern, "Did... did he hurt you?"

 

[Risky Vetis]

Having thought his act of defiance would have at least unnerved the human, Rymvar was quickly enraged growling loudly as the human approached and had the audacity to lower himself to meet the dragon’s gaze at an even level. Still, the space remained tense as the use continued to use a tone of superiority making very bold claims about being his master, having rightfully claimed him by right off conquest. This only served to make the dragon more frustrated, by his account he was not defeated nor even injured enough for this human to have any right to claim victory. This human was delusional, the only way this mage was able to catch him and take him the way he did was because he had tricks up his sleeve. Dirty and cowardly, that was what this man was. A coward.

Wanting to wipe that stupid grin off this face and yell in his face about his misinformation, it was the sourness of his throat and limbs that ultimately kept him silent and still. The more the mage spoke, the more he wanted to charge forward and tear out this fool's throat. He didn’t like being taunted, nor did he like the feeling of being utterly useless. This body was weaker, slower, and difficult to maneuver. He hated every part of this. Sitting on the ground defenseless before his enemy, he couldn’t help but feel small, helpless.

Dragons are noble and proud creatures, but they are still wild creatures having had to learn to adapt to the changing world in order to survive, but how could Rymvar adapt to this. Trapped in a form that gave him no physical advantage and grounded him, it was this human that indeed held him here against his will. He needed to take back his soul, only that wasn’t going to be an easy task. Having been looking carefully for the last few minutes scanning the mage’s person to catch sight of the small crystal orb, the same orb that had caused him to feel like his life essence had been sucked out from his very core.

Rymvar half expected the other to proudly display it out in the open as if to taunt the dragon. This didn’t seem to be the case however, he could not visibly see it. But he could definitely feel it was close by, the sensation was like a sharp tingling rolling down his spine and through his limbs like soft bolts of energy. It being so near made him feel somehow stronger, the dragon finding the strength to push himself slightly onto his knees although he couldn’t keep his balance for long catching himself with his hand.

The arrival of more humans stilled the dragon as he observed the interaction between these lesser individuals noticing again the way the mage seemed to be in charge. The youth appeared to be frightened, Rymvar couldn’t help but notice how quickly the boy wanted to be out of this tent when he was called to a halt. He realized the boy was afraid of the mage, now recalling the screaming from when he was unconscious it was starting to dawn on him that this punk was an abusive type. A power-hungry control freak, the sooner he got rid of him the better it will be for when the white dragon brings about hordes of other dragons to lay waste to the human population. There had been discussion of a cleanse, but many were skeptical of all humans being evil. Would it matter now if their intent was to wipe out the dragon race or worse, enslave them!

Having gone silent for now, Rymvar ignored the mage’s warning about harming his servants. If they got in the way it wouldn’t matter if they were innocent or not, the dragon had every intention of killing any who stand in his path. He didn’t like how the mage referred to him as a guest, what did that even mean? He was a prisoner, plain and simple. Forced here against his will in a form not his own. How the hell did that make him a guest? Not wanting to find out, he patiently waited for the mage to leave.

Rymvar could feel the pull of his soul strongly as it started to fade away slowly but not completely. Now it was like a gentle hum against his chest, that alone felt like a taunt making him aware of the power the other held over him. But it also acted as an early warning system, he would know at least when the human came near. He still must be somewhere nearby, but far enough to not be within the immediate proximity. That would have to do, Rymvar thought choosing to ignore the human boy completely as he scanned the space looking for things that would be useful.

He needed to get out of here as soon as possible and warn his fellow dragons of the dangers closing in around them, which in itself was going to be a risk. Would they recognize him in this form? Would they believe him? Shaking those thoughts aside, Rymvar flinched hard when something wet brushed against his skin and his immediate reaction was to attack the unwanted touch. Smacking the boy away and flipping over the bowl of rose water in the process, the dragon snapped his jaws at the boy loudly and gave the youth a single warning. “DONT...TOUCH...ME!”

The dragon didn’t want to be touched by these humans, by anyone in this form. It didn’t feel normal, it felt alien. Still, he found he needed to force it to move as he again attempted to get up on his own wanting no one's help. To his credit, he was able to get to his feet without making a fool of himself. However Rymvar couldn’t get a handle of keeping his balance, he felt top-heavy and with his exhaustion, his limbs felt sore and slow to respond to the commands he was giving. He needed to get this body stronger before he had any hopes of leaving this place with his own two feet. Which meant food and water, not the crap that mage conjured. Real water, from a lake or river.

With the intention of going out of the tent to find some, the boy moved in front of him suddenly. “You can’t leave.”

Rymvar only growled as he shoved the boy to the ground and moved awkwardly to the entrance, the shout to stop came a second too late as the dragon took a single step out of the tent only to suddenly cry out in pain as a violent electrical current jolted through his body. Unable to control anything as he found the shocks of energy too much, his vision turned black the same moment his body collapsed on the ground.

He awakes sometime later, the red glow outside the tent now completely dark as a single torch within the tent provided light into the room. Rymvar was slow to sit up, the aftershock of the volts still making his hands shake slightly at his side. While he was knocked out the boy must have cleaned him, he could smell the stupid rose water even as he lay there, the sensation of fabric touched his skin did make him uncomfortable and constricted. The trousers dark and tight, the worn leather hugging his thighs and calves almost like a vise grip. The shirt at least was loose, the white cotton shirt was at least less noticeable. He did never understood why man had to wear the pelts of dead animals. None of it made sense.

Sitting up slowly, he looked around the tent noticed he was alone. A side table was set nearby with a small glass of water and a piece of bread. Hesitantly he took the water, this thirst demanding to be quenched. The cool water felt pleasant going down, soothing the ache making him moan softly with content. He didn’t bother giving the bread a try, setting the glass down and curling up on the bed. He honestly wanted nothing to do with human food, he was a dragon. A carnivore and he liked his meat fresh and warm. He pondered what had happened to him when he tried to leave, magic most likely trapping him here. Great.

 

[Obsidian]

Within minutes of the dragon waking up, a certain pulse of magic could be felt in the air, and it would not be long before the tent flap would be pulled aside as the Mage Lord stepped into the tent. Upon seeing the dragon, Everon would smirk in some amusement, shaking his head and approaching the side of the bed.

"Did you truly think that would work?" Everon spoke, mockery in his voice, "Did you not stop to consider that perhaps I may have intuited the possibility of you running away? It would be all for naught, regardless. Since you barely master the ability to stand under your own power, I would not expect you to survive out in the wilds. Considering dragons are meant to have an intelligence equal to humans, so far you have not impressed me. But, perhaps, that can change. GUARDS!!"

Upon Everon's command, the two guards would step into the tent, standing at attention at the tents entrance.

"Assist my guest, if you would." Everon said, turning to make his way out of the tent, "Bring him with me."

As commanded, the guards would step upon the dragon, each grabbing the dragon's arms, dragging him out of the bed and pulling him along as they exit the tent. While the previous shock would be still fresh in the dragon's mind, he would be able to do nothing to stop him from being forced out of the tent, but upon leaving the dragon would not be stuck with any magic. Everon must have deactivated the wards keeping him imprisoned in that tent.

Outside, it was now early morning, the sun still low in the sky as a view of rolling hills and meadows stretch out before him. Everon seems to have set up a camp on one low and flat hill, close to a lazy flowing river that rests at the bottom of a steep but traversable decline to the dragon's right, while charred remains of burned stakes stand in the burned circles to his left, on the far end of the camp away from the tents. Any smoke or fumes from any burning had long since been blown away in the wind. People would stand around, guards and civilians alike, likely Everon's servants. They would look on with fear in their eyes, staring on as the dragon is dragged along behind Everon towards something Rymvar may recognise.

Floating suspended on mid air hang a set of runic dodecahedron stones, polished to a shine with their runic patterns glowing ethereally, forming a five point circle in the air. This is elven magic. Powerful stuff as well. These stones are used for teleportation, usually across vast distances that would exhaust any spellcaster to even attempt, let alone succeed. To compensate, such constructs are required, able to form teleportation portals at a fraction of the power it would otherwise cost. But such tools have their limitations. Any set of these stones teleports a mage only to one specific location, and to no other, usually used for repeated trips, such as returning to one's home. If a human mage got their hands on a set of these stones that belonged to a elf, and figured out how to use it, they could teleport an army into the heart of an elven city, bypassing all defences. As such, they are usually closely guarded by the elves, but these stones... are different.

It is only when Rymvar would be drawn closer that he would be able to see why. They are not elven. They have the unmistakable smell of human craftmenship to them. They were made by humans! That should be impossible!

Everon stopped in front of the floating circle of stones, before the buzz of magic licked the air, and, in Everon's outstretched hand, burst the orb containing the dragon's soul into existence. The orb possessed an ethereal beauty unmatched, one so great that it demanded the attention of all around, everyone stopping and staring in rapt awe and wonder. Some even took involuntary steps closer to Everon, desiring to draw closer and stare deeper into the orb, but Everon already accounted for this; an invisible barrier holding everyone back. Everon turned back to the dragon, orb in hand.

"Release him!" Everon commands, and the guards so as he says, their arms dropping to their sides even as they too seem to fall slowly into a trance, staring at the orb. The dragon is now free, but he stands powerlessly in place. Though he may try to move, Rymvar's body simply refuses to move.

"Bow to me, dragon." Everon speaks, but the command is now directed at Rymvar, and the dragon finds his knees buckle under him, falling before Everon as the mage steps in front of the dragon, orb clutched tightly in his hands, so close that he can even hear the screams of anguish of his soul trapped within the orb. And it glows, steadily growing brighter and brighter, magic and light filling the air, all others around now devolved into drooling husks that claw against Everon's invisible barrier like caged feral animals.

It's the orb. It's bending the minds of everyone around, except for Everon and Rymvar, who both appear immune to the soul's corrupting influence.

Everon smirks as the dragon's will is forced to bend, willfully ignoring the chaos erupting all around the camp, before he then turns his attention to the circle of floating stones.

"We have been hard at work for years trying to uncover the secret to elven teleportation." Everon says, before raising the orb up toward the stones, "Every one of these long distance portals we have ever tried to form has failed. But perhaps I have found the solution to the problem."

The Mage Lord summons upon the power of the orb, something that Rymvar would be able to feel, a draw of magic being stolen out of the dragon's soul and being poured into the human teleportation stones. It would take only a drop of Rymvar's power, before the stones would be filled with energy, and the portal would burst to life in a blinding flash of light. When the light died down, the portal stood open, a crystal clear image cast within the circle of floating stones, like a window. The orb as well as gone, Everon dematerialising it again, it's energies forming itself around Everon once more. All others around returned to their senses as soon as the orb vanished, though they groan with throbbing headaches with no small amount of confusion on their faces.

"It works!" Everon yells out joyously, his attentions being entirely swallowed by his triumph, "IT WORKS! I knew it! It's the souls! It was always the souls!"

After savoring the moment, Everon turns and looks to his dragon, and commands, "Guards! Seize the dragon!"

They do so, grabbing Rymvar again before he could escape, and Everon walks up to the dragon as the guards drag the dragon back to his feet.

"Fascinating, don't you think?" The Mage would ask the dragon, coming close to Rymvar, close enough that Rymvar would be able to smell the scent of flowers on him, "You saw what effect your soul had on everyone here. How it turned them into rabid animals, and so quickly as well. You and I were unaffected. Now, one could say you were unaffected because it is your soul, but what about me? Why do you think I was unaffected?"