Prince: a dragons transformation

Prince: a dragons transformation

A Story by Gimmic the Victor
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A world where dragons are becoming more and more rare, a single dragon and a Drago [dragon protecter] must find a way to stop the war between the two to save the dragon kind...

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 I was born in a cavern on a faraway mountain top, supposedly safe from any harm. I was taken care of by my mother, father and grandfather. Their tall majestic silver and white forms that would always protect me and warmed me with their dragon fire when nights grew chill. They taught me to hunt, to breathe fire and eventually how to rise up into the starry heavens, though I never was very good at it. For a while I was happy, and knew no sadness but for the times my prey escaped me. But as smoke began to rise one day, from the valley below the cavern I grew up in, strange creatures began to show up more and more. Father would always look down in anticipation, not sure what was inhabiting our land, like ants far below. And mother would not let me venture from her sight in fear these beings were dangerous. Only grandfather knew, for he had been alive for centuries. Dust-Bane is what he called them, for they were treacherous and lived off the earth like leeches. He told us to stray far from them and that we should move to another mountain before they ventured up from the valley. Father would not hear it and went down to the valley to rid our home from them. He never came back. He had set the whole of the population afire, but was shot down from the sky, pierced in the soft underbelly all dragons have. Mother howled as she saw him fall from the sky, and tumble down before hitting the ground with a loud thud heard across the mountain and valley. Only then did we leave our home with heavy and cold hearts. But, it seemed near impossible to find a new place to stay. Dust-banes seemed to be everywhere we went, and when finally we settled and fell asleep for the night in the cave that barely tall enough for grandfather to stand tall in, they came like scorpions with vicious stingers. They killed mother before she could fully awaken. She lit several afire before she collapsed and moved no longer. But grandfather was fully awake, and pushed the mass out of the cave, with a mighty roar and blast of his ancient dragon fire. I was too afraid to do anything but cower in the corner of the cave, remembering watching what they did to father and mother. Grandfather was stabbed several times, but still he fought on, until they all were dead, or had fled. He stumbled back into the cave and took me into his mouth, gripping the back of my neck before flapping his massive wings and took to the sky. For a long time, there was silence as we flew before we came to a tall mountain hundreds of miles away and dropped me onto a cliff before collapsing heavily to the snowy ground. The rock beneath my claws and cold belly shuddered as the great mass of my grandfather fell onto it. I could feel the heat of his body die, and grow as cold as the snow around us. I could not wake him, when I realized he too was dead, leaving me…alone. Long after his life had faded I curled up at his side. I cried, my tears steaming hot, sizzling each time one hit the snow beneath me, melting it for a long time till I knew that if I were to live I would have to find a safe place. And so I looked to the mountain top, far above piercing through the clouds. It was out of sight, and I wondered why we couldn’t of lived here? Why didn’t grandfather bring us here earlier? More steaming tears fell down my scaled snout, before I began my upward crawl before I let go of the rocky surface, opening my wings and leaping up. The wind caught my horned wings and shakily rose higher into the sky, until I came to the very top. From there the wind was strong, and was nearly blown away with my wings open. I struggled to close my wings for a long while before I huddled down, my wings tight to me. The mountain top was bare, just rock and deep snow, not much was there for covering. It was then that I came up with an idea. Just like my father and grandfather showed me, fire formed in my stomach, slowly rising up my throat to my mouth. For long moments I let the fire grow in my mouth before letting it out in a great mass, digging into the cold rock like butter,  a dragons fire strong enough to melt just about anything, except diamond. I blew fire and carved into the mountain top a long tunnel deep into the mountain and then a cavern large enough for me to curl up in. By the time I was done I was very tired and collapsed inside the new home I had made. For years afterwards I called it home. When I was hungry I would fly down and swoop up either fuzzy animals that the dust-bane watched over in the dark of night, or small game in the woods far as I could away from any dust-banes. For a year I knew solace in the simple repetition of finding food when I needed it, and staying hidden away in my cavern. In exactly in a years’ time I realized I had grown much larger. The cavern was tight around my form, and my small appetite had grown five times over.  It was becoming to dangerous to eat the animals from the dust-banes even in the night, and the forest space was becoming smaller. I found myself flying farther and farther away to find food safely. It was troublesome being a dragon I thought, grumbling to myself. Those little sacks of dust-banes could easily hunt and live in their wood and stick caverns without worry of being stuck in the middle of the night for being different. Even the small animals had it made. Not all of them were killed for food, and they could wander into dust-bane territory and live freely amongst them, even if sometimes not well off. I laid in the small cavern and thought, scratching with my claws carefully at my under belly. Well, I was lucky in some ways. My scales were pure white, and I easily could hide in the snow. But if the sun hit my scales often shimmered in rainbow colors, and my eyes I could feel burning in my sockets, were surely bright in color and gave away my hiding. Basically I was safest on my mountain, but I would die if I stayed there all the time. I knew great hunger and I began to think desperate thoughts. Do…dust-banes taste good? Should I eat them, and leave their animals till there was no one left to take care of them? No, surely I would be tracked and hunted if I killed one: A quality that was much like a dragon, to take care of their own brethren, and children.  For a long time I pondered, thought, and devised till I could no longer think straight. Food, raw meat and blood…I had to have it now. I snaked my way through the tunnel and took to the sky, with now powerful wings and flew down the mountain side. I would take one last of the creatures the dust-banes raised and then I would fly off to the north, in hopes of a new home. But it was just as I swooped down to catch one of the furry beasts that I missed. I realized how weak I was and that I would not easily carry anything but my own weight. I landed as gently as I could, though it was a rather loud  thud to my ears when my clawed paws hit the grassy ground. I stopped and held my breath, listening to the night sounds. I heard no dust-banes, nor the sound of fire; Just the bleating of the furry animals and the wind blowing the trees and grass. Carefully I stalked forward, my long scaled and spiked neck weaving from side to side as I took small and slow steps towards the flock. They were a bit too noisy, and I knew the longer I stayed the better the chance one of the dust-banes would hear it and awaken. Just as I dug my fangs into one of the beasts, quickly killing it before it could let out a shriek something behind me moved. I snapped my head back with the dead animal still in my mouth, and saw a small dust-bane stand with the white of its eyes glowing in the faint starlight. Pale, much like my scales, with dark hair that nearly blended into the dark night. For a long time we stared at one another, I hoping to the lords that it would not scream. I began to slink backwards and was about to chance taking to the sky when it leapt forward, beating its small soft paws against my chest. But for all of its flailing this dust-bane made no sound, not even when its small mouth was wide and fumbling.  Tears welled in its eyes as it stared up at me. I realized the poor dust-bane could not speak, for its voice had been stolen from it. Poor dust-bane? Oh hah, what made me think such a thing? Despite my better judgment, instead of rising into the sky with my kill, I put down the carcass down in the grass and lowered my slightly bloodied snout.

 It did not flinch as I stared into the little ones eyes or draw back as I came within inches from her fleshy face. Instead it rested one of its paws on my snout, and stared back still with tears in its eyes.

For a moment felt its mind touch mine, and many scenes played within my head letting me know all there was to this dust-bane, who she was, how old and how she struggled each day since birth from being thought of stupid because she couldn’t talk no matter how she tried. I jolted back and shook my head as if I could shake off the connection to her mind. But it stayed strongly, like a diamond chain. Impossible to break or melt.

“Please prince don’t take any of our sheep, we have little and each of your midnight hunts has dwindled what little we do have...” said she in a small voice, that came not from her mouth but her mind. This little dust-bane had grown on me so fast that before I knew it I had let down my head again for her to pet my scaled hide. Prince is what she called me, but I was no prince. Not that, I really knew what a prince was. Dust-banes words I knew little what they meant, but with her the little of human talk I knew grew from her mind. Prince…someone of royal blood? Or something?

“Why do you call me Prince when I steal your….sheep?” Said I back to her in a low rumble, hoping against hope I would not be heard from the home only a mile away and the village not far from that.

“Because that is who you are, the one who will help bring about a revolution that will save many lives.” said she in a voice that rumbled and hummed in my mind. Was this voice really the little girls, or was there more to her than what I glimpsed in the moments we had been fully connected? Suddenly there was screaming. I looked up and there in the dark stood two other dust-banes, the mother and father of the little one.

“Fly now prince, come and find me past the mountains and forests.” Again the voice rumbled through the mind of the small girl. “Your home is no longer safe.”

I was still weak and hungry but with effort I snatched up the sheep and took to the air, swerving and shaking from the strain, up to my mountain. Whoever or what was behind that voice, I would not listen to it blindly. On the mountain top I nearly crashed as I landed. I tore apart the carcass of the sheep and in no time nothing was left but bones and old blood. With that little bit of food I regained some strength, and thought on what had happened. Find it past the mountains and forests it had said. My home is no longer is safe it had warned me. Pft, I shook my head in the warmth of the small cavern only to hit my head against the stone. As I cradled my head I scoffed. No dust-bane would find me at the very top of this mountain. It was a treacherous climb without being able to fly, and last I knew dust-banes could not fly. No dust-banes would climb such a height for one young dragon that from time to time took a sheep or two. Ha, it was laughable. But still there was an uneasiness that settled within me, that I could not shake. And staying in the small cavern almost gave me the idea of being in a grave. Grave…a dust-bane custom I learned from when my mind had touched the girls mind, where they put their dead. Her grandfather like mine, had died when she was just a tiny thing, and he was the only one who had believed she had potential to be more than a Shepherd, even though she could not speak and was female. I could not stand it anymore and so began to snake up through the tunnel I got stuck in every so often when I felt the mountain itself begin to shake. Not a good sign. I hurried as fast as I could and pulled myself out of the tunnel and out into the cold windy mountain air. My spot was just above the clouds and the coldest place, had I not been a dragon I would have frozen a hundred times over all ready. And yet there was something not a dragon that stood not far away from my tunnel. It looked like a dust-bane, but its flesh was darker than I had ever seen before on one, with a wild white mane and covering the whipped along in the cold wind. He held a long branch like stick, that shimmered and glowed; the mountain rock beneath it shivered and shook. What was this? Could it be magic this dust-bane was using? I thought it was only a chosen few dragons who could use such abilities and yet here stood this dust-bane with a crooked black fanged smile. Fangs? I growled low and shot fire from my mouth, it swirling around the man, though it didn’t even singe his cloth. That was no dust-bane. Its where the uneasily feelings had come from, and it was something fouler. The mountain shook more violently with each moment, and I knew eventually the mountain would crack and swallow me whole. So I opened my large spiked wings, and blew fire at the being before letting the wind catch my wings, carrying me high into the cloudless sky before bringing my wings in close to my body, diving down inches away from the ragged slopes and cliffs, hoping if I went fast enough I could lose it. But I could hear over the sharp whoosh of the wind around me as I plunged down, loud cackling that grew shriller with each passing breathe. Just as the ground came up I opened my massive wings once more and swerved away from it, and landed on the tops of some trees precariously, the swaying tops not wishing to be solid and steady under my heavy form. And there it was again, the black creature in the form of a dust-bane floated in the air without the aid of any wings, with a vicious sneer on his dark face. I snarled at him, growling as I spoke between my sharp teeth.

“What the hell are you?” The creature didn’t say anything in return, instead from its staff a ball of fire formed before my eyes, and sent it racing towards me. Fire? Did it not know dragons are fire proof? But sure enough the fire somehow seared through my tough scales and hide, and the sheer force of it knocked me off the tree tops, crashing to the ground below. Singed, and in horrible pain I began to panic. I struggled to stand but through the pain I could not move. I let out a cry of anguish and hoped against hope I would somehow survive this. Within moments another ball of fire or energy came whipping down from the sky. I barely found the will to move out of the way from it hitting me straight on. A loud boom and thud came when it hit the ground, knocking me into several trees, which splintered and broke away. How was I to win this, or even to escape if my fire had no effect?  I assumed my fangs and claws would do little harm either. I should have listened to the strange voice that had come from the little girl. Should of left the sheep and flew with all my might and speed to find the one behind the voice. But it was too late now, and I was to be killed by this horrifying thing. But the moment when the black creature came into view I felt something other than the dark presence. The same voice from the night before boomed throughout my mind, though this time it didn’t rumble but was that of a young male dust-bane, whose voice seemed to be in the very air itself.

‘Foolish Prince you should have listened to me the night before! You would not be in this situation if you had listened to me!”

He shouted and lectured me on how foolish I was, as I was using what little strength I had to dodge the creature’s advances. “Now, listen to me carefully, do exactly as I SAY. Stop dodging the wraith’s attacks, and become completely still. Close your eyes and focus on my voice alone. Do your best and I will do mine.” It was hard to stay still as the balls of flame burned at my hide painfully, but I had no other ways to get out alive, so I took the chance. I stopped and stayed completely still, thinking hard on the man behind the voice, hard enough it gave me a splitting headache. Another ball of the horrible fire formed from the wraith, its heat I could feel from where I half stood and sat in the awkward space. Moments before the ball of flame enveloped my body, time seemed to slow down. I opened my eyes and saw the flame just a foot away, crawling forward like a snail before all around me went dark and I left the conscious world. 

 

I remember light first, billowing around me like small white and silver butterflies I had seen as a young hatchling. Such small creatures that were made of hard outing that allowed them to be in the cold on top of a mountain. I sighed, a feel of freedom and peace I had not felt in a long time soaked into my large scaly form, slowly but surely shrinking me down into nothing but a single grain of sand through the hour glass of time. But when I opened my eyes, the light faded, the feeling of peace faded and I felt horribly sick. I felt different. I was on my two legs that shook under me like that of a small fawn on their newly formed legs stumbling forward and falling. I retched the moment I hit the ground, shuddering violently. In the moment as I shook and heaved, I knew I was no longer in my majestic long and lithe body covered in protective and shimmering scales. I was bare, weak, exposed and coldness wrapped me in its harsh grip, my new skin stinging and throbbing with each small movement. But it was not long after I stopped retching something warm and soft was draped around my nude form, sheltering me from the cold air.

“You will get use to your new body soon enough, it is the only way you can-“

I looked up at the dust-bane besides me, suddenly very angry, not hearing anything it was saying. I growled loudly before leaping up and wrapping my hands around his neck, the warm bit of clothing falling to the ground as I leapt.

“I should rip your throat out for this, or burn you-“ I snarled with my newly formed lips.

“I wouldn’t try it” It said shortly. It gripped my stinging skin causing me to fall to the ground again, gasping in pain. He leaned down to pick up the long bit of warm cloth and wrapped it around me tightly, even as I struggled. This damned dust-bane had done the worst thing one could ever do to a creature of magic…it was to turn it into something far worse than common beasts and insects. The fleshy two legged being called man. After it had wrapped the cloth around me it picked me up gently despite the obvious power that emanated from him, and carried me. We were not far from a forest, but it was darker and twisted then the forests below my mountain top. Shadowy smoke lurked among the older trees beckoning with misty gnarled hands for one to enter and never return. The smell hit me before the sound of chattering and yelling did, coming from the direction opposite of the foul wood. It was that of many dust-banes. Thousands of them, among other animals and scents I could not place. Even in this weak body my senses were nearly the same, almost stronger as a wave of fear washed over me. There was a great mass of human buildings, small ones made of hay and stone, large ones with wood and brick and the middle ones of all wood and metal. And in between the buildings laid roads of black stone, where most of the populace of humans mobbed together, bickering over carts of oddly shaped fruits and animals, as well as cloth and hot foods. As we drew within the crowd I could feel some of the eyes of the humans on me. Feel their ill intent, or their indifference toward the tall man carrying another in his arms. The crowd and the mass of the minds were becoming overwhelming for me. Never had I been so close to so many dust-banes without them running from me or throwing pitchforks and it made me sick to my stomach. I clutched at the one carrying me and urged it to leave the crowd of people quickly. He gently laid his hand on my head and a soft peace soaked in through from his fingers, that overcame the fear fading slowly. Before the peace began to fade I found I was no longer in the crowd of many, nor in the arms of the man who had brought me here. I was no longer naked any longer either. I sat up from the bed I was put on and looked over my arms and hands, tugging on my mane and in the end shook my head. Humans have such strange bodies, such weak and frail things they were. Even a hatchling could tear a grown man into pieces with one’s sharp claws. How was I to keep myself safe? And…where was i? It looked to be a small cavern, square in shape with cracking and peeling walls, rays of sun piercing through the smalls holes in the ceiling which smelled much like hay and dried grass. There was no way out from what I saw until I saw the odd colored bit of wall tall as an average male dust-bane, with a round metal obtrusion. I got out of the small bed and slowly stumbled towards the door. Damn, I thought as I clutched the wall a few yards in, that I was still unused to balancing on the small feet I was given suddenly. Just as I reached the door it opened and there stood the dust-bane that had turned me into the abomination of this fleshy form. I swung my hands at him, but lost balance and fell the dust-bane moving fast enough to grasp me before hitting the floor. I struggled against him as he carried me to the bed and set me down firmly.

“What have you done to me you fool??” I cried angrily. “How dare you turn me into this…this thing, how dare you..”
I hit his broad chest several times before I couldn’t move, gasping tiredly, in pain. Skin had started to burn and itch within moments I attacked the human.

“Prince…forgive me, are you in pain?”

I looked to the floor and glanced up angrily before snarling. “Yes, and it’s your fault.”

He reached out and lifted up the hides that reeked of human flesh, more than I and placed his hands on my flesh. I cringed, and remembered the fire the wraith had thrown at me that had nearly killed me…

“Damned wraith fire, it’s invisible to the naked eye unless say you’re a dragon or somehow connected to them. As are the burns they inflict, though…I thought I had already healed them all.” The stench of the humans sweat burned my nose as he rested his calloused hand over my chest and back slowly, searching before stopping just where the skin hurt most. His lips began to move, but made no noise yet as he went on blue fire leapt from the palms of his hands on to my near invisible burns that made my whole body tingle with the magic that seeped into my skin. This magic, this tingle felt strangely familiar like from a time when I was happy before I had ever seen or heard of these troublesome creatures called humans. In that moment I knew this dust-bane was no average stinking greedy human. “You…where did you learn to use such magic?”

A distant smile curved upon his lips, his eyes glazed over a moment not seeing me or the room but something else beyond the two before his eyes readjusted and looked down at me.

“I learned it from a dragon much like you, only its scales were the color of a lush bush of roses and briar. Her name was Altruism.  I saved her life near the cost of my own. And so she returned what life I had and gave me more. Longevity…been in the world sixty seasons now yet I still am much the youth I was when I saved that dragon.” A sad smile crossed his lips. “So believe me when I say I’m sorry for having to turn you into such a lesser being, my prince. It will not be forever, I promise you that.”

“She sounds beautiful…where is she now?” I had never seen any other dragons in my life other than my slayed parents and grandfather. Grandmother had died before I hatched, though I remember once grandfather explained her as a wild thing the color of the sun on a summer day, yet smooth and wise for all her power. Surely this Altruism sounds beautiful, imagining how long her neck was how many sharp spikes ran along it, the broad scaled chest and-names…what was my name? That was something I could not remember, I was called youngling and sweet one but…neither could be truly my name. Could it?

“She was…killed when I was away tending to my needs elsewhere. Wraiths. She had been attacked by two of them, and despite her size and might she was killed by them. You are lucky it was only one wraith.”

I felt the hurt of the human’s heart and without thinking reached out and rested my hand on his chest feeling more and more  my view of humans change by him alone. If he had been gifted, would he know my name? was it prince?

“I am sorry…but…do you have a name?” He took my hand and held it within his two larger ones. “Yes, it is simply John. John Flome’. Though I was called ‘lion heart’ by altruism...”

“And i…is prince my name?” I said hesitantly. John nodded. “Surely you knew that? Did I not tell you that night that Prince is who you are? Your parents were to name you that before the humans moved in the valley under your old home. Altruism told me much of you, years before you were to be born honestly.”


“Did this altruism

 

 

© 2012 Gimmic the Victor


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i really liked your story!! i found it very insperational!! great job!

Posted 12 Years Ago



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Added on March 19, 2012
Last Updated on March 19, 2012

Author

Gimmic the Victor
Gimmic the Victor

Your twisted little mind., NH



About
Not much to say. I'm Victor, though I go by my nickname, Vic. I write when I find the time...either college work steals my time or uh. ~Coughs~ Skyrim of late. There is nothing super new up, but I am .. more..

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