Shinning Sun

         The light shone down through the narrow chimney to the face of the child, still sleeping from his tiring journey to life, his soft peach skin and black hair set him apart from both his parents; one and elven sorceress and the other looking like a man of great nobility. The elf smiled back to her husband, clutching the child to her bare breast as she lay in the large royal bed, her husband, human by all eyes, dressed in a fine suit of black and a green elven cloak. He brushed his hand across his son’s head and smiled back to his wife.
         “A name my dear?” He dared ask, he knew she was one of temper, and should she be tired he feared a pain would come to him soon, but none did.
         “Lancaster,” She replied, not lifting her eyes from the baby, cradling him easily as she relaxed from the pains of child birth.
         “Lancaster… I like it,” Replied the man, he moved away and out of the room, calling as he left, “He deserves this!”
         As he reentered he carried a magnificent garment of Cobalt blue, it seemed to shimmer upon first glance but otherwise looked as a normal noble’s outfit.
         “He is too young,” She began to protest, but she held back her words as he approached, biting back a comment as his hand went up to silence her.
         “Though you are a protective and powerful sorceress, indeed you do not understand the powers of dragonmagic,” He began, easing the look of anger from his wife’s face, “Crafted of the finest dragon’s scales, enchanted by a draconic cleric of the old ways, and made to change to any appearance of the wearer. It will resize itself to fit anyone. I think it suites our son perfectly.”
         With a nod the elf lifted her son to the man and smiled as he carefully put the garment on the babe. Just then the child awoke and looked with beautiful sapphire eyes at his father, his hand moving out and hitting his cheek then rubbing it as he explored the first sight he had ever seen.
         “I think we should let your mother rest,” Replied the man, his voice going suddenly deeper, harsher, more raspy, as he looked to the now sleeping mother, “Come my son, I will let you know a little secret.”
         The two past through the magnificent structure, the stone walls a mastery, the skylights allowing the moon to light the halls without need for torches. The warmth of summer betraying the altitude of the structure, and soon the two were walking through what seemed to be an attached cavern. Down farther a balcony opened to the west, the sun was rising but only a sliver of it could be seen, and the man set his child in a cradle that would hold him fast, then the man back up and undressed.
         “Here my son, is what you are made of,” He said, his voice no longer raspy or harsh, but a deep bass that brought an unknowing smile to the child’s face.
         There were many cracks in the next seconds as the man distorted, his head elongating into a snout and reptilian eyes, his ears sinking into his body, his arms grew bigger and his legs reversed to the likeness of a horse, great scaled wings erupted from his back just as the sun shot up from the line ray to the tip of the sun, silhouetting his body against the brightening morning. A great silver dragon, perhaps eight to ten times the size of his human form, stood before the child now, a toothy grin, perhaps because dragons had no lips, spread to his face as he lifted the child in one hand closer to his face. There was no sign of fear, or surprise, but a smile like that of when he had spoken in a deep voice to his son appeared. The babe reached forward and touched the dragon’s nostril, bringing a light hearted chuckle from him, and then reaching up for the great silver horn that stood prominent above the others. Only then in those few moments of silence did the dragon know fir sure it was his own blood that flowed in the boy, for in the boys eyes he saw the blue of his own, the patterns of scales running up the back of the child’s arms and legs, and the deeper than normal cry as the boy grew scared at a passing bird of prey.
         With pride the dragon held his son close as he faced the rising sun, his heart filled with hope and knowledge of the future before him, “My lord…” he said to the morning sky, oranges and yellows turning to blue higher up, “Orion the silver… meet my son, Lancaster Frostpeak!”