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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1081246
This is a story to be included in a manual of beasts in a world I created.
The Dragon of the Srou-Mo River
Recorded 589

The inhabitants of a small, unheard-of village near the Srou-Mo River called upon me to investigate the disappearance of several of their neighbors – which, incidentally turned out to be half to population. I knew that I was honor bound to be of some assistance to the people, so I made my way to the river.
I bothered not with communicating with the people, as it would only delay me. When at the winding, blue snake, I found there to be a smell of seaweed in the air – the scent of a Wave dragon. Immediately, I began to prepare around me shields of my most powerful kind. I was, however, not able to do this before the dragon, apparently aware of my intentions, or just seeing me as more food, came crashing down on top of me.
It knocked me breathless and into the waters. The water rushed into my lungs the instant I hit the surface. There, I began a fight for my life. I was pushed to the bottom of the lake by the force of the dragon’s blow. I hit the bottom and then used my legs to propel myself upward and into fresh air.
The first breath was spent refilling my lungs with air, the second for casting a harsh spell. I began to rise out of the water, dripping mud off my brown robes. I could not use lightning against the beast, its greatest elemental weakness, as I was soaked to the bone.
Instead, I tried to summon the forces of Elysium to my side. Brining a Seraph into the battle was a mistake. Though it may have had magical abilities beyond that of many mortals, it blocked my line of casting, thus preventing me from taking any actions against the dragon.
Now, on any other occasion, a Wave dragon would have succumbed to a Seraph’s powers, but this one did not. It was different somehow, unique in an unforeseen way. It used its abnormal powers to crush the angelic being under its claws, sending it back to the plane from whence it came.
Then I knew that I would have to be cautious around this one. It was clearly beyond the power of a normal dragon. I created a double of myself, using it as a distraction while I sneaked around the back of the dragon to send a knife of ice up through its stomach.
Summoning up the weapon, I moved into position under the beast. I reared back the ice knife and then with an upward motion, sent it into the dragon’s tail. It had moved to attack my copy, something I hadn’t foreseen, causing me to make only a superficial wound in the dragon’s flesh.
Noticing a twinge of pain from its underside, it looked under itself to find the true me. It knew I was the real one and shattered the shell I had created with its tail when it turned around to face me fully. I looked down its reptilian countenance, ready to accept whatever fate the gods had in store for me.
Yet I wasn’t going to go out of this world without a fight. I summoned up my most deadly spell, one of such power that few mages had a chance to master it. It was Death’s Kiss. No being had ever survived the spell, always being lured into the deceptive beauty of Death.
The power welled up inside of me as I cast the spell. I quickly went through all the motions of the cantrip, and within a few seconds, the spirit Death was standing before me in the form a female Wave dragon.
Allured by its beauty, the male Wave dragon, became weak at the knees. His breathing became heavier as the dragon approached nearer. Finally, they were so close that their breaths mingled within the air, creating a mini rain shower. Then, before he could do anything, the female planted a kiss upon the male’s snout, killing him instantly.
Death vanished, happy to have procured another soul for Dosium, god of death, returned to the Etherean plane. The dragon’s carcass fell to the ground with a thud. It was when it had fallen, that the stones around a cave entrance rolled away.
Intrigued, I entered to find three Wave dragon hatchlings, which snapped at me with their fresh-out-of-the-egg fangs. I backed off, not wanting to have to hurt the little ones. I noticed in there that there were human bones and homely clothes lying about the place.
That was the reason the dragon had stolen away the villagers. He had to feed his children with something, since his mate had obviously died, and with her, the only natural source of food for the young dragons. The next best food item had been humans, which also explained why he had been such a challenge. He had drawn upon his parental instincts to protect his kids, something that had cost him his life. It was a bittersweet story, saving the lives of more humans, yet perhaps taking the lives of three baby dragons. Such was life.
Surprisingly enough, when I returned to the village to tell the people what had happened, they weren’t as upset about the death of their neighbors as I had imagined they would be. It was, without a doubt, the mentioning of the dragon babies that assuaged some of their anger. The thing that shocked me the most, however, was when the remaining villagers returned to the dragons to try and care for them by providing animal meat for them.
I never heard anything from them again, though I have heard of three very plump Wave dragons living in that area.
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