Stories
Three young dragons scrambled through the long black halls, filled with lines of glittering quarts. They clamored over one another, as they made it into a bright circular room. The walls were covered in old maps and paintings, lined with low shelves, filled with scrolls and books. The floor was bare, apart from a white rug, with patterns of dragons of all colors sewn into it. There was moss growing along one wall, which led up to a large split in the domed ceiling. Light spilled in from above.
A dragon sat behind a desk, her tail neatly tucked around her front talons. Soarlite turned and sighed when the three came through, towards the opposite wall.
“I thought I told you last time,” she said, wanting to be stern but finding herself unable to in the presence of the hatchlings. “I have to finish copying these books! Story time starts at sundown.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle, as she realized they weren’t paying attention at all, but instead taking turns spinning a globe and guessing which spot it would stop at.
One of them peaked over at the table, and said to his companions, “Hey guys, the books lady is staring at us!”
The others turned around to face her. The one who’d spoken was only two, but he was as big as most three-year-old’s. His shoulders were broad as well. His scales were orange, with dark grey webbing in his wings. His underbelly was a dark orange, and the armored scales on his back and arms were dark grey. Soarlite remembered that his name was Ashen, his little posse often hung around for her stories.
The two other hatchlings were named Obsidian and Pyroshard. Obsidian was black with black wings, the webbing of his wings was dark grey, he had a light magenta underbelly, and rich purple armor scales. He was really small, even for a one-year-old. His tale was a little too short, and his wings not quite wide enough. He was skinny, as if he’d been starved, but the opposite was true. The adults had tried to feed him larger amounts once they discovered his weight problem. They had tried several different combinations of food, but nothing seemed to work. A theory was developed that maybe he digested food before he could properly absorb the nutrients.
Pyroshard, was two, but a little shorter than Ashen, with narrower shoulders. His scales were dark red, but they were pale as if they were faded by the sun. His wings were light grey, as were the armored plates that ran down his back and limbs, his underbelly was maroon, but, like his scales they were paled. His odd scales were strange, but the strangest thing about him was his eyes. They were a bright blue, not a fire dragon’s typical shades of red, orange, or black. He was Soarlite’s nephew, so she felt bad for him knowing her sister was gone.
Soarlite looked at the three little dragons, who returned her gaze.
“Are you guys here for a story?” She said to the little ones, getting up to move to the rug.
The three chorused confirmation, and rushed over to the carpet. they sat in a rough line, Obsidian, Ashen, Pyroshard.
“Okay, before I start, there’s something you boys need to say.” The older dragon said, sitting down in front of the hatchlings with her front talons tucked neatly between her back legs, and her tail curled to her left.
“Good morning?” Ashen tried, unsure.
“Are you hungry? I have lots of food.” Obsidian said.
Ashen was confused, “But she’s an adult, she can go get food from the forest, she shouldn’t be hungry.”
“Yeah, but maybe she was stuck here writing words all day! I would be super hungry if I was stuck here with nothing but paper.”
“But if she wanted food, why did she not go get some? Those pinkish brown oinky things with the long stick-outy teeth are too small to hurt her.”
“That’s right Ashen, I could easily hunt for a hog. But there’s still something you need to say, otherwise I can’t tell you a story.” Soarlite listened as the two went back and forth, rattling off phrases like, ‘Good afternoon’, ‘excuse me’, ‘how are you’, ‘what is your name’, ‘smoking stones’, and ‘time flys’.
Pyroshard sat quiet, thinking. Then his face lit up. “Um, tha- wait no. Please?”
Obsidian and Ashen stopped, looking at Soarlite expectantly.
She smiled, “That’s right. Since little Pyro said please, he can choose the tale.”
Pyroshard shook his wings, then folded them happily.
He asked, “Could it be one about a bad guy? And the heroes come in and Beat him up. Then... they all live happily ever after?”
The other two nodded in agreement, and laid down side by side on the rug. Pyroshard curled up on his own, with his tail flopped over his snout. His blue eyes peered up a Soarlite.
What a cute little oddball, She thought affectionately, My sister would have been so happy to see how he’s turning out.
The thought pulled a bitter memory into Soarlite’s mind. If only his father wasn’t a lava sniffin’ idiot.
She shook her wings out gently, then a story sprung to her mind.
“Alright, I got something for you young fellows.” she leaned forward a bit, and began her tale.
Once there was a fire dragon named Volcanon. He was the slowest, weakest, and smallest of his clan.
All of the other dragons made fun of him, as he could do little to stop them. Rather than fight back, he decided to find a way to get bigger, faster, stronger, and better than the rest of his clan.
He spent his days in the library, searching. After many years of research, he thought he had finally found a way. Volcanon had read of an ancient spell, used by magi to gain immense strength.
There were conditions of this spell of course. He needed three things. The horn of an albino bull. The feather of a harpy eagle. And the blood of a whale. Once these ingredients were found, the must be placed thirty paces apart.
As per the ritual, Volcanon stood in the center of the three, and recited the spell.
He gained great power, being twice as fast and strong as any other. He was bigger than the most ancient of dragons, and much more powerful.
But it all came at a cost. In the instance of this spell being cast, the bespelled dragon would gradually lose their mind, unless it could be undone.
Volcanon was unaware of this. He used the spell, and after serving his clan in many battles, and becoming their champion, he finally snapped.
He attacked the first dragon he saw. As he had walked into Volcanon’s large sleeping cave, he was cut down by mighty claws.
In his head, Volcanon was in an arena, killing every challenger thrown at him.
The Queen’s guards soon came, and fought him with the intent to put a stop to his treachery. He killed many a dragon that day, until finally an old rival of Volcanon torched him in a jet of flame.
No one knows why He was able to defeat Volcanon, but he was soon regarded as a hero within the clan.
His name was lost to history, as though Volcanon’s raging spirit ate it out of the memories of those who opposed him.
By the time Soarlite had finished, Obsidian and Ashen were sleeping on top of each other, snoring softly.
Pyroshard was still awake, listening to her words with awe.
“Well, you got storytime early today, are you feeling sleepy?” Soarlite said, stretching lightly.
“No,” He replied, “Miss Soar-lady, I have a question.”
Soar-lady? Is that seriously what they think my name is? She thought with an internal chuckle.
“My name is Soarlite, but what did you want to ask?”
“Do you know the spell Volcano man used to get super duper strong?” Pyroshard asked, earning a shocked expression from her.
“No, no one does anymore. The spell was destroyed a long time ago.” She hesitated, then added, “Do people pick on you and say you’re small?”
He cocked his head at obsidian, and confessed, “Not me. I thought maybe Obby might want it, because he’s so small. He is a little, what’s the word... wanty of being big. It makes him kind of sad-mad when Ash does something he’s not big enough for.”
Soarlite thought, He’s so sweet, anyone lucky enough to be his friend is in the right talons.
She told him, “You’re a good friend, do you know that?”
He looked back up at her. “I guess so.” Pyroshard replied happily, a big grin spreading on his face.
He got up and turned to walk out of the room.
“Where are you going?” Soarlite asked him.
“I’m super duper hungry. And Obby will be hungry when he wakes up. Maybe I’ll get him something. Bye bye Miss Soarlite.” He said, walking back into the glittering black hallway.
That dragons gonna grow up to be very happy, Soarlite thought, before carefully stepping back to her desk to finish her work.
