usurpers | FANTASY DRAGON AU

[ okay— alright, fine. an earlier, raging dragon would’ve talked back to him right at that instant, but. his wing is broken, it’s broken and trying to move earlier has made him feel sick to his stomach. the world’s spinning again and he’s unintentionally hyper focused. he needs to find a way to . . .

between panting and the select sound of whimpering between his teeth, the dragon lifts his head to scrape his horns under the larger stone. it takes a few tries, but soon enough hooking under it to throw it off is a success. it rolls away, but.

he won’t be flying for a really long time. what’s worse, he needs to put it back in place before it sticks that way. just. give himself a minute. to breathe, to recollect, and to realize what he’s talking about. speaking of dying out there— well, sure, there were land dragons who survived, and the dragon himself survived the ground when he was young . . .

he’ll have to go on foot, but keep his attention tripled. a lot of things take advantage of the injured and weakened. ]

You have a stick. [ that long thing he carried around with him up there. he uses “stick” for lack of better wording, but it seemed intricate. ] For someone who wanted to die by monster, [ if dragon’s could shrug, he would, but he ends up simply ruffling his good wing and laying down to rest in a way where he turns his neck away from him. disinterest.

he doesn’t care.

he does keep knocking his teeth together, making clattering noises, his tongue only now feeling normal. ]

Survive.

[He watches the dragon struggle with the stones. Even if he was inclined, there's little a human could do to help him out, with each of these rocks being nearly his own size if not bigger. He had no choice but to watch.]

A staff. My mother's. [He corrects, knowing the dragon won't care. But notably, he doesn't have it with him anymore] It...probably got crushed in the avalanche.

[He swallows, trying not to make it show how much that thought upsets him. This dragon doesn't care. This is a monster that cares nothing but about himself.]

I want to die quickly, and only because I don't have a choice. [He gives an annoyed click of the tongue] It's easy for you to say "survive" when you're a dragon. The only threat to you is yourself, from the looks of it.

[He gives a pointed look at the avalanche remains. Yeah. You brought this on yourself mister]

There's no way a human could make it to the next region all alone. And even if I did by some miracle? I'd probably get stoned to death for causing the death of my village.

No matter what I do, I'm gonna die. And since you caused this mess, I want you to take some responsibility for it.

[ why, the dragon starts thinking as he rolls his head into the inside of his wing in a groan, much like how one would hold their temples. why does he complain so much.

it takes, in turn, another lengthy pause for the dragon to start back at him. ]

They brought it upon themselves. [ that’s it, that’s the answer. ] You did, too. The minute you went with their plan.

[ he’s still plenty bitter about that, and the fact that it actually sours him up to such a degree he has to question himself again as to why he actually cared so much. he finds his answer in it’s not about humans, but his reasoning is ever drastic anyway. ]

— Can you make up your mind? Do you want to live or die?

[I don't know dragon maybe you destroying his home had something to do with it.]

I had to. [he says coldly in defense of himself. No, he hadn't been happy about the elders' plan. But there'd been no choice] And maybe if you had stopped after the elders who made that choice, I'd be willing to think you had a point. But you didn't. No one can learn their lesson if they're all dead.

[No one will know what destroyed the village as no one got out alive. At most, when word catches up to the other villages far away, they'll just think it's a mad rampaging dragon. Nothing more.

He pauses for a moment, glancing away.]

Of course I want to live. But I don't have a way to.

[ as far as the dragon was concerned, he burned the elders, the mills where slavery was born, and . . . maybe a few extra houses out of his own raging spite.

but that’s not the point. ]

You shouldn’t be different from me if that’s really what you want. [ of course there are ways! it’s as obvious as fighting for your life! that’s always. how it is. the dragon then, with a hiss, turns his attention to his twisted wing. he had to fix that— and so he will.

finishing with any necessary steeling, the dragon stretches the broken wing out as much as he can, the longest webbed finger pointing up instead of down. shit, this is. going to hurt.

after a few trembling breaths, he does the only thing he can to help himself: ram the flattened space of his skull and horns down against it, and snapping it back into place. it’s still ugly, and swollen and it leaves him screaming painfully, sharper than any scream he’s given.

if dragon’s could cry, he would cry, and now only lays his head down against the ground and blinks, a lot. ]

. . . I’ll take you to wherever it is you want to go. As long as you fight to live.

[ he just sounds mildly tired now, and— in agreement that maybe he should do something to put this boy on the right path. ]

But that's--

[-Easy for you to say, he's about to say. But then the dragon goes and does that to his wing. Not only is it disturbing to see, but the scream hurts his ears enough to wince. Even if it was a dragon, it was very clear that it was a scream of pain.

Compulsively, he moves back over to the dragon, kneeling down near his head. He reaches out and puts his hands on his skin. The wrist tattoo is now very visible on his skin, even if he's not thinking about it. ]

Shh...easy now.

[He'll start singing quietly, and yet again, the glowing begins and wounds start to mend. At the very least, it'll take an edge off the pain. ]

[He keeps the singing up for awhile, trying his best to heal as much as he can. This spell really wasn't made for something dragon sized, but it doesn't seem to stop him.

Finally when he's done, when he can't keep the spell going anymore, he'll stop the singing and lower his hands away, back in his lap.

He's quiet for a pause, and the silence hangs heavy between them. Was he going to explain why he did that? No...probably not. Instead, he'll try to respond to what the dragon said before.]

...Even if that was what I wanted, I can't be like you. Humans can't do most of the things dragons can do. We're much more...fragile.

[To put it lightly. Dragons were much more powerful than a human could ever hope to be. That's why human villages were so quick to bow to their will, most humans had no chance facing off against one.

And that offer...was that a real offer? He pauses, and admits feebly]

I'm...not sure where I'd go. I've never been outside this region.

[He didn't know the rest of the world. There was no one waiting for him anywhere]

[ hi fantasy operator yeah i’d like to ask what the fuck is happening, there is a smol bean healing me.

the dragon does as any beast in pain does. when the boy approaches, he lifts his lip, narrows his eyes and growls. he’s hurt and it’s instinct— don’t do anything to me. fear, can you believe that? even if he’d never admit it. when he becomes so bold as to touch him, it escalates into a sharp snarl, maintains the growl, but— he doesn’t move, he simply thinks it’s enough to get him to back off. until the boy sings.

when he sings, and his wing feels warm, the pain seeming to slip off his scales like water. it’s still there, but . . . why he was no longer so hurt when he woke up makes sense now. and he doesn’t know how to feel about that.

the dragon only remains there, wide eyed and just as confused as he’ll ever be. green-blue eyes go to the boy, observes him, then to their surroundings (it’s best to never let your guard down), then back to the boy. he sees the mark, uncertain of what it means— and when it’s all over, he doesn’t know where to begin, lifting his head to check the damaged wing. it’s not fit for flying, and it most definitely will need to be saved if they walk, but. it hurts far less.

how does he. what does he say now. ]

None of you would’ve survived if you were so fragile. [ even though he thought, well, they were plenty squishy, too much for his taste. alas, there’s a reason why they still managed to stick around. ]

What’d you do that for?

[The growling doesn't do much to deter him. It's not different from the animals he's had to treat back in the village. And honestly after he's seen this guy destroy a village and cause an avalanche? This seems...quaint.]

You were in pain.

[That's it, that's his answer. He wasn't so cold he'd leave something to suffer, even if the temptation was there.]

[ what is this sorcery

the dragon . . . doesn’t say anything. he feels like a better answer to hear would be. mm.

something selfish. it’s easier to react, that way, but right now he’s just sort of. stuck. in a limbo where he doesn’t, and can’t, find it in him to say “thank you” or something more human.

because it doesn’t come naturally, not even in thoughts, but he does have a feeling that something’s missing. why the silence?

(it’s called being awkward but w/e) ]

Aren’t you?

[ why didn’t he just. you know. heal himself. ]

[that sure is an awkward silence. The dragon even looks like the trig lady meme, if the boy knew what a meme was. Still, he catches how perplexed this creature looks.

Yeah, he supposes thinking of others would confuse him]

A little, but you're in worst state than me.

[ ...

While it had been tempting to keep it from him, if this guy was serious about helping him somewhere]

You should know, I think a bonding mark formed on us while you were passed out. Ever heard of those? Yours is on your tongue.

[ bonding marks.

spongegar emote ]

. . . A what? [ not that he doesn’t know . . . exactly what it was, but you never know it actually is a mark until the other half bears the same. the dragon can’t see a single thing on his when he twists and turns his neck to all angles. his tongue flicks out, but he can’t see it, and irritably shakes his head.

the story hops from dragon to dragon like sieges and conquerors, even if he’s lived most of his life alone.

it was as much of a fable as the existence of dwarverns. dragons that never grow, and are given fake dragon names: wyverns. ]

Those don’t exist. You’ve been branded, that’s all.

[ by some. slave master.

that’s right. ]

[THIS DRAGON....as he watches this guy and he can't help but act a little miffed at his response. ]

I have not and they do exist! I saw it appear on my wrist!

[Huff! He stands up, conjuring a spell that makes a magic mirror appear. It points so that if the dragon opens his mouth, it should be able to see its tongue.]

See?

[ you’re not. giving him option and this even leaves him equally miffed, but— the dragon pulls his neck up to get a look at the boy’s wrist, huffs through his nostrils, then lets his narrowed eyes wander to the mirror and back.

he’s stubborn, to be proven wrong, and the small claws of his good wing scrape against earth and stone. honestly, he is a big, brash brat with too much to learn and not so much patience to learn it.

he gives in after moment to sneer, glancing at the details in his reflection. he hasn’t seen himself much, only for water and he doesn’t stop nearly as much as a mammal for that. he’s. growing into a fine dragon, looks like.

but, fine!! his tongue. spreading his jaws— it doesn’t take long for them to snap right again, with the dragon’s hiss between his teeth. he doesn’t know what to say at first, and opens up one more time . . .

what does this even mean, that— ]

I don’t belong to anyone. [ he refuses to believe that’s it. his heart pounds in his head enough that he can feel the pulse in his horns, eyes growing distant and shaking his head. ] I’m no one’s—

[ he hisses out a laugh, but. it’s one of disbelief. his lips don’t curl in the slightest. ]

You’re human.

[Yeah well you didn't really give him a choice in whether to kill all of those villagers so you know, it's pretty fair you don't get a choice in the mirror.

Other than amazement of how long he resist looking in a mirror, and watching the dragon almost seem huffy over the aspect of doing so-- his reaction doesn't really surprise him. Yeah, who wouldn't be stunned at a twist like this. He sure was]

Yeah, I know.

I have no idea how this happened to us. I always thought it was some romantic thing, so it makes even less sense.

But I do know, that if these are real bond marks, then if one of us dies? The other will lose the body part the mark is on. Which means for you... [Well, you'd lose your tongue. Kinda sucks doesn't it]

[ it’s almost laughable for a dragon to even think about anything romantic with this. human. slave. bird. whatever! but the sound the dragon makes seems repulsed. ]

How do you know these are real?

[ he’s so brash at asking that it almost sounds like he’s demanding a coherent answer from him, but with a irritable hiss that sounds more like an ahhhh as he whips his head back and forth. guh. guh!!!!! ]

[Well luckily he doesn't take offense at him sounding repulse because uh yeah, he's not romantically interested in a dragon either]

I don't! I just know they look like bond marks I've seen before.

[ they gotta watch beauty and the beast.

the dragon sits back, in silence for a lengthy stretch and— gets up again. he’s not going to get anything done just laying here, his limb doesn’t hurt as much, so walking around with his weight thrown to his good wing shouldn’t be a problem.

it isn’t one, for a beast. It’s hard to see discomfort on him even when there’s a small limp to his bat-like walk. the dragon’s tail whips to help keep his balance, and with a grumble: ]

Let’s just find you another village.

[ he has. quite a bit to think about. ]

[He moves back as the dragon gets up. Even if the dragon is small for his kind, he's still big by human standards. It's pretty impressive how well he's able to get up considering how injured he was. ]

Er-

[Another village? Well, that seemed as good an idea as any for the boy. So he gives a little nod]

Okay...

[Giving once last look, he spots something lying in the space that the dragon had been sitting: his mother's staff, still in good condition thanks to protection magic. ]

Oh! There it is! [He runs over and picks up the staff, inspecting it to make sure it's okay. The relief is very visible on his face. Not only was his only weapon, but it had sentimental value to him] You must've been sitting on it...thank the gods it's still in one piece.

You and your mother’s stick can find a place together.

[ the dragon mumbles, and that’s all he does for a fairly long while as he wobbles about and heads to— he doesn’t know where he’s heading. he just wants to move, put this little bugger in a place he actually belongs before he could do the same and skidoo.

. . . he’s constantly looking over his shoulder to see the boy a couple times over and still wonders why he saved him, ponders whether it was the bond’s doing or his own sense of justice trying to give back.

the only answer he has is I’ll leave him there, then I’ll be free. that’s the end of that.

until it grows dark, and he grows hungry. the sound of a dragon’s stomach growling sounds like a storm coming. ]

Staff.

[He corrects him, but he'll follow along. He does his best to try to keep up, though it's very apparent that he keeps trailing behind. His legs were on the smaller side for human standards, so he was tiny compared to the dragon- making it so he has to move at a quick pace just to keep up.

Sometimes when the dragon looks back, the boy will look pretty winded. While he had to walk a lot in his village, he really wasn't used to this kind of travel.

As it gets darker, he only starts to trail behind even more. He's tired and a human's night vision is terrible without any light sources. He is close enough to catch the sound of that stomach, even if he isn't sure what it is]

- What was that?

[He's looking around, trying to see if it was some beast in the forest - even if it was too dark for his eyes to possibly spot anything used to night hunting.]

—Nothing.

[ it isn’t as if the dragon can get too fast, especially once the spell that removed his pain wears off. it wears off and it wears off good, to the point that the dragon can no longer keep the shuddering to maintain weight on his wings at bay. eventually, he drops, and reluctantly, he vocally objects, curling his tail around him and folding his wings to his sides.

luckily, there’s water nearby, and he drags himself at least enough to extend his neck to the edge, back purposely facing the boy.

he’s trying to maintain as much distance as possible, but there’s something that pokes at his chest when he does. he doesn’t like it. ]

Just— Go find some tree to sleep in.

[ his voice sounds strained and tired more than anything. with an addition to hunger . . . his stomach gurgles again, and to mask the sound— he hacks up a cough to clear his throat. he’s searching for some fish, but, with brutal honestly: he actually sucks at hunting. ]

[The boy doesn't comply. Not after witnessing a sight like that, with the dragon collapsing and dragging himself to the water. It's a little hard to watch, seeing a creature that's definitely suffering. Sure, it's not a creature the boy particularly likes, but...

Well, he's always been softhearted.

So instead he walks up alongside the dragon, until he's next to the stream. He kneels down and cups his hands to get his own drink of water. Then he watches the dragon, it doesn't seem like he's drinking, but rather....]

Are you trying to fish?

[ his belly has become a vicious snarling beast on its own. he tries to sort of— scoot himself away when the boy comes, and before he could answer . . .

he bolts his face into the water, snapping his jaws, once, twice. his snout only comes up drenched.

the fish are gone. ]

I’m fishing.

[ pointedly not mention that he’s trying because attempts are weak! ]

[He watches that attempt happen and "Trying" is definitely the word for it. Surprisingly, the boy knew something of fishing. He wasn't the best fisherman in the village, but his father had taught him things. Things he had used to feed himself, as demi-humans like himself were often left to fend for themselves.

The dragon's attempts? Make it pretty clear why the dragons in the village stories preferred livestock and other bigger animals. Those jaws weren't agile or quick enough to pluck out a fish.]

Pretty sure that won't work...you're making too much commotion.

[He tries to think of what to do instead. He didn't have any nets or traps on him, his favorite way to fish. It'd take too long to construct a make-shift one too. Nor did he have a fishing rod or fishing spear on him...]

Hmmm ... if only I had something like a knife, I could probably make a spear and get fish that way. [He glances over at the dragon.] any ideas?

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