A/N: Couldn't help myself, saw an amusing scene with new season of "The Devil is a Part Timer" and my muse went nuts.
Once more, we're sticking with the "Embers" rule for this story, and others. If folks don't like this, it won't be continued. Meaning that if the story itself ain't popular? POOF! Gone. Completely. I'm working two jobs -might need a third soon!- so I barely have time to write; as such, I cannot afford to write something folks don't enjoy. So by all means, speak up! Your voice matters! Make yourself heard! As ever, reviews are the fuel that sustain me. Without them I cannot write a single word. Simple as that. Working nearly all hours of the day keep me absurdly busy, and I can't bring myself to write something folks don't like.
As ever, I own no references, quotes, memes or themes. Not a wit or a one. They're merely tributes to those far greater than I.
I'm just a humble author trying to make his way in this wild world, one word at a time.
Hope this makes you smile in these trying times.
"What manner of madness is this?"
~?
Heir to Dragons
For thousands of years he lay dormant.
Beyond time did he slumber, awaiting the return of his god.
Until then he had no reason to rise, no reason to wake, no reason to roar...
.
..
...or so one might think.
A strange mewling noise pierced his slumber. He tried to ignore it. Mayhap it was the wind. He need pay it no mind.
Until something touched his scales. He jolted awake.
"Who dares disturb mine slumber?"
His twin necks craned down. And saw.
He took him in at a glance. Bright blue eyes, messy blond hair, whiskered cheeks.
Soft, small, weak, fleshy. No scales or wings to speak of. T'was a human. Barely more than a babe. What was the word they used? A toddler? Baffling small creature. Naked, but for some tiny scrap of white cloth wrapped round his hindquarters.
In the end, only six singular words came to the dragonlord. "...what manner of madness be this?"
The boy blinked up at him.
On a whim he assumed his human form, that of a striking warrior clad in a battered grey tunic; a man with piercing golden eyes and hair to match. Only then did he kneel before this small, pudgy creature.
"What brings thee to my home, little one?"
The child only giggled and clapped his hands, reaching pudgy arms up from. As if he recognized him. "Pa...pa! Up!"
Placidusax's brain fizzled.
"No." he rumbled. "I am not thy sire. I am a dragon."
The little lad would not be swayed. "Papa!"
"Cease!"
The child flinched at the bite in his voice. He hiccuped, little eyes shining with moisture. Oh, dear. Surely he wasn't about to...
"Waaaaaaaaaah!"
"Stop that! End thine wailing!"
The boy threw his head back and only cried all the louder.
A strange feeling rose in the old wyrm, one he hadn't felt since he'd fled from the Greater Will.
In hindsight, Placidusax wasn't sure why he did it. Why he moved. Only that he did.
He took the child into his arms and rumbled softly, an old lullaby for dragons.
Not once did he cease...until the little lad finally fell asleep.
A/N: Again, this is just a draft.
There we have it. Another Request fulfilled for ya'll. =D
Do you want this to be a story? Yes? No? Maybe so? Lemme know!
For the record, its stated that ancient dragons can take the guise of humans if they wished. Lansseax and Fortisax did, so it stands to reason that Placidusax, a dragon far greater than them, ought to be able to do the same.
Make yourselves heard!
Once more, we're sticking with the "Embers" rule for this particular story, and others.
If folks don't like this, it won't be continued. Meaning that if the story itself ain't popular? POOF! Gone. Completely. I'm working two jobs -might need a third soon!- so I barely have time to write; as such, I cannot afford to write something folks don't enjoy. So by all means, speak up! Your voice matters! Make yourself heard! As ever, reviews are the fuel that sustain me. Without them I cannot write a single word. Simple as that. Working nearly all hours of the day keep me absurdly busy, and I can't bring myself to write something folks don't like.
Aaaand there we go. As ever, reviews keep me alive. Without them, I cannot write. So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review...Would You Kindly? And have some previews -potential blot bin things- that I'm working on.
(Previews)
"There, there. Its alright. Why ya crying?
The toddled sniffed. "Nightmare."
"Say no more. C'mere...
"That's my son."
Silence stretched onward.
...if you acknowledge any gods, start praying. Now."
"This is the part where you run."
"If I'm a monster, guess I'll own it. C'mere. I'll eat you alive."
R&R~!