A really quick little fic about a dragon that loses his freedom. I own the plot but not much else. Enjoy!
His scales brushed along the sides of the pit, barely enough room for him to flex his muscles, let alone reach his full wing span. His spiked tail batted from side to side, movement restricted by the crushing walls. His massive jaws with every deadly tooth could no more shift the rock than could the kicks from his gigantic feet. At the start he had clawed at the sides, digging his deadly talons into the rock that surrounded him and trying in vain to reach the vast open sky that was above him. The blue sky taunted him, laughing from thousands of miles away at his vain fight for the freedom he had once known.
And he had known freedom, once. He had flown above the clouds, feeling the wind whip past his scales as he soared far above the land. When the primitive humans below saw his shining scales they would tremble in fear beneath the king of the skies. They could never understand the thrill of being weightless, his powerful wings propelling him so high he could almost taste the stars above him. He never tired, never had to land for rest or sustenance. He was beautiful, incredible. He was free.
But he had grown bored of the skies. There had come a day when the clouds underneath his talons did not thrill him, the moonlight that bathed his scales no longer filled him with the peace he had once possessed. He became so fast that when he raced the stars he soared far in front of them, so he began his desperate search for something more.
Then he had seen the village. The little group of wooden huts, full of little people working all day long. It was a hive of activity, bees buzzing around constantly doing work he couldn't understand. He flew over them, letting the sun reflect from his scales and shine like a beacon in the sky. The way they scattered and hid in their huts made him feel something, the feeling of power that set every nerve alight.
He swooped down again, and again, until he had grown bored of the screams and scattering. He picked a group of the people, two older, taller ones and one small one, holding their few possessions as they ran from the village he had been flying over. Then he landed, crushing them with his huge feet and surveying the village he had chosen. The others were stood in horror, staring at him with absolute terror freezing their bodies. He heard what they said, the words screamed by a smaller human. Dragon.
For weeks more he trapped them there, relishing in the ultimate power he had over their inconsequential lives. Then one day he swooped low and blew from his massive jaws, the village bathed in blinding fire. It burned for days.
When it had stopped burning he stood in the ash that was all that remained. When he finally noticed the woman in the tattered cloak it was already too late. The woman raised her hands and the world around him turned to fire, like he had been swallowed up by a star itself.
All he could see were lights, burning his eyes. When he closed them they burned on the inside of his eyelids as well. Then he was being crushed. The walls were closing in. They would crush him. He would die. But suddenly the walls fell away, and he fell too. He was tumbling through the air, free-falling for what felt like days. He tried to raise his wings but they were trapped to his sides, powerless to stop his descent. He was powerless. He was powerless. He was powerless.
That had been years ago. Months had turned into years, which had turned into centuries, which had slowly turned into millennia. At night he still dreamed of flying above the clouds and racing the stars.