Heroes are often made; none are ever born. The legendary heroes many know of, always rose to that power, never did they simply have it.
Such is the tale here.
On an island far out from the mainland, its size rivalling that of a state, yet held enough secrecy to remain undetected, lived many creatures. A world of mythology and technology created this land, as the inhabitants of the island couldn't he better. A man walked along one of the many beaches, his tired eyes searching for a good place to fish for dinner. He was a rugged man, his torn, damaged black pants worn out from years of use, his boots crunching the sand as he walked. His skin was a deep tan, as his beard was large and bushy, like his long hair. Grey hair adorned him, as his deep brown eyes closed a bit, as he walked. With a blue tunic adorning his chest, the man was known as Solomon; a good fisherman and known member of the East Village. Solomon continued trudging through the san; fishing rod on his shoulder as a bucket of bait hung from his hand. He only had thoughts of getting food, nothing else...save for wondering what the odd sniffing was. He looked down, in front of a small sand dune he found it.
It was small, about the size of an iguana. Green fish scales adorned its serpentine form, as its head itself was that of a snake's save for being narrower, and its eyes facing forward, twin orbs of amber light with jet black pupils. Its chest area was broadened, as it possessed large bat wings for arms; the thumb being replaced with a 4 fingered hand. It possessed hind raptor legs on its body; the sickle claw missing, as its feet clawed at the dirt, the tiny creature trying to crawl up the dune. Its tail waved as it crawled, the same length as the creature's body, and was tipped with a fin a fish would have, only flipped horizontally. To finish its look, along its back several fin like spikes rose and fell; mimicking a lion fish's spikes, but all were a shade of green. Solomon knew damn well what it was; a Drake.
Drakes in their world were not giant monsters, but often refered to as winged serpents. Many were docile and calm to humans, but wild ones were dangerous and unpredictable. Solomon wasn't just concerned on that fact, he was also shocked because all drakes are shades of blue, grey, or teal; this one was green.
"Well this is weird," He lamented, kneeling down as the small drakeling looked up at him; watching him with curiosity as it still tried to crawl. "You have the spikes of a Fighting Drake, but the streamlined body of a Wind Drake; not to mention you don't seem to be capable of flight little guy." It hissed at him, not warningly, but for some other reason he couldn’t quite pin down, as he watched it spread its wings, leap into the air...and then crash into the sand a moment later. Solomon set his fishing gear down as he gently picked the creature up; careful not to mess with its wings as it felt it struggle for a second, but it soon relaxed in his grip as he turned it around. Solomon examined it closely, as he chuckled a bit.
"Well it's pretty clear you're a boy, and I can't leave you out here to fend for yourself little guy. Guess you'll come stay with me; I have a fish buffer for a bit, so it should be enough for the two of us. But I have to call you something, don't I?"
"D-D-Dew..." It hissed, making Solomon even more confused. Since when did drakes talk? He looked down, and saw why it spoke that; clinging to his tunic was a coarse amount of dew from the ocean mist that had clung to him as he had fished earlier; he must’ve never felt the water collect on himself until now, as Solomon sighed. "I'll call you Dew then; beats having to make up a name." The man began to walk away, oddly completely forgetting about his fishing gear...
Time had passed since Dew was introduced to the East village, as Solomon learned that the creature had an odd growth rate, unlike any drake he had ever studied before in his time. It possessed human intellect, and grew like a normal child would; asking the same questions, playing with the village boys and girls, and even learned to work like his...adopted father did; doing tasks for the villagers who needed assistance as well as gathering things from outside the village for the people. By the time Dew reached his 14th birthday, he was a true villager.
The doe walked cautiously through the woods, looking for grass to eat, as well as avoiding the predators of the forest. It found a particularly large blade next to a tree, and tentatively approached it, its hooves clicking against the ground...before it heard a snap in the tree above it. The doe only had time to look up before something fell onto it; snapping its neck in the process and ending its life in one fell swoop. A much older Dew stood up, rubbing his head with one of his winged hands, as he shook off the pain of his fall. He now stood at a larger 5'11, and his winged arms reached his knees, as the young creature shook his head slowly.
"That really hurt..." He spoke to no one, his voice a mix of youthfulness, yet at the same time raspy. The drake wore clothes now; a pair of black cotton shorts reaching his shins, and a leather harness on its chest, keeping his wings coiled up and locked in leather restraints. He had fallen due to him trying to grab a few apples from the tree he was in...and ended up finding dinner instead. Dew looked at the dead doe, sighed in regret, and picked up its carcass; his winged arms stronger than when he was found, as he lugged it over his shoulder and started the short trek home; his head held high as he marched towards the village he had grown up at, with the people he had come to know well in his time here. The drake reached East Village in a few minutes, as he walked past the many villagers who had gotten beyond used to the drake. All around, Dew heard greetings as he walked past; smiling and waving to the people as he walked; his father's hut extremely close.
Their home was perched on a large cliff; overlooking a small forest, and from there a massive beach. The drake clambered up the steps to his house, as he opened the door a moment later; being greeted with the sight of his father sitting in a recliner, reading a book on blacksmithing.
"How was Flight Training son?" He asked, not even turning around; clearly knowing it was Dew because of his clawed toes clinking on the floorboards. Dew dropped the doe carcass as he let out a sigh. "Not good dad; I stayed in the air for a few moments, before I fell and crushed a doe." His father shook his head as he stood up languidly and pulled a large machete from the wall. Without warning he stabbed it into the deer, and cut a large hole in it, beginning the process of field dressing it, not minding the warm blood coating his wrinkled hands.
"Son, you must try harder; sooner or later you'll need those skills to survive."
"I know dad; anything new in the village?"
"Yeah. William needs help fishing; need your special skill again." Dew nodded respectfully, as he turned and walked out the house. Dew, being a drake, had the unknown ability to breathe underwater; swimming being a beyond easy feat for him, having gills on the side of his neck; functioning much like a fish’s would. Dew reached the beach moments later; slowly unclasping his restraints as his wings unfurled. Without an ounce of restraint he dove into the water, and started swimming; his body moving like a serpent's as he swam through the water; marveled once again at the sights the ocean held. All around he saw vast life; splashes of red, blue, purple and pink, as fish swam by his head, crabs scuttled around him, and other sea life reacted little to Dew's presence. The light from the sun cascaded down into the oceanic plains; illuminating them in a deviating blue radiance. Dew knew fully what he was looking for already; Yellow Tail, a known delicacy for his village and also biggest export to lands beyond. Dew only needed five fish; Solomon had taught him to never take too much from nature at once; otherwise it would be unable to fix that lost part and would lose something else. The drake snapped one of the fish into his jaws, crushing its head to kill it painlessly as he spat it out, grasped it, and tied it to his belt. He found several more, now having four of them, as the last one swam away from him, as Dew slowly followed; flapping his wings underwater as he propelled himself to the fish.
“What are you doing in my territory?” A feminine voice suddenly addressed Dew, sounding stout and firm. The drake turned, and was shocked to see a Scylla floating there, one of the more infamous creatures of the oceanic plains. Her lower body being that of an octopus, she held on to several branches of coral around her as she stared at Dew expectantly; her eyes narrowed. He pointed to the fish, and she shook her head. Her skin was a lucid crème hue, her hair an alabaster color; waving in the water while her tentacles were a deep violet. Due to having no sense of modesty she was stark naked, her large melon sized breasts jiggling a bit as she crossed her arms, her bare slit on display to Dew, almost virginal.
“Just another fisher, but a drake this time? How long before these fools realize I don’t want anyone down here?” Her tentacles wavered uncomfortably close to Dew, as he floated back, before snatching the fish and bolting downwards; the Scylla following quickly; her eyes locked onto Dew, dead-set on getting to him. Dew flapped his wings underwater as fast as he could; dodging tentacle after tentacle as he shot up to the surface...and just one inch short did a few tendrils grab him and pull him to her; feeling her wrap her arms around his chest from behind, as she rested her head on his shoulder. Dew struggled as much as he could; especially when he felt her hands slide into his pants; gently caressing his flaccid cock. Dew didn’t understand this, especially when he felt himself hardening, and for her to muse at his size in her hands.
“18 inches; impressive for a kid.” She continued to stroke him, before Dew lowered his head, and sent it back; hitting her head with the back of his; giving him the slip he needed to shoot upwards, and burst from the water; landing in the sand as he watched the Scylla emerge, a look of pure fury on her face as Dew sprinted from the water; thankfully with all the fish intact. The octopus woman wouldn’t follow; Scylla couldn’t survive well on the surface so thus she receded back into the ocean, awaiting her next victim to prey too close to the water so she could prey on them instead.
“I guess it’s time we have the talk son.” Solomon told Dew around nightfall, after the drake had informed him on what happened down there underwater and how confused and scared he had been. He sat his son down at the table; and took a seat across from him; a cup of tea in both their hands. Dew was first to speak, still confused and worried.
“Father, what did she want to do to me? I heard stories of Scylla dragging men away, but...not like that...”
“Son, Monster Women only have one thought in their heads; breeding; she wasn’t just massaging you in an intimate place; she wanted your seed. Some of the more docile ones would ask first and take no for an answer...but a few aren’t so nice.” He stood up and left for a moment, his footsteps thudding throughout the house, before he returned with a large book, the size of a dictionary, with an odd cover of a serpent, coiled around a sword.
“This is a book I found years ago; categorizing all of those things in alphabetical order, along with what they’d do to you. Read over this book Dew; sooner or later you’ll need every bit of knowledge in this book.” Dew already looked over it, studying each species with intensity; especially the dangerous ones. The young drake was both fascinated yet at the same time horrified that such creatures could exist. He continued reading...unaware of the threat looming in the distance...
To Be Continued...