Lord Raziere
2011-03-22, 11:49 PM
A Dragon’s Arena
Hi, my name is Zarakkan. I’m a five thousand year old dragon, very magically and physically powerful, I’m also sort of a magitech inventor, I like to make a bunch of stuff powered by magic you see and-oh.
Oh what? You...want to know what is happening? Oh right. Sorry, I tend to ramble.
Well right now I’m sort of captured and in the holding cells of some coliseum on some plane of a barbaric town. You know, the usual “we capture you as slaves, you fight one another, we make big mullah off bets see? Now get in there before we poke you with metal sticks.” Type of deal. How did I end up here, with me being so powerful and all that? Well let me just say this mate: NEVER trust any tavern wench who claims to have escaped from the coliseum while she is wearing a dog collar, which is all I’m saying of it.
Anyways, here I am, dragon in coliseum, they obviously want me to stand in as some sort of reenactment dragon of some Hero Vanquishing The Vile Beast. I know, makes it sick to your stomach, am I right?
Which reminds me, dragonslayers. Hate ‘em, for obvious reasons. Though some do more than just go around killing my kind- some of them harvest the dragons claws and scales to make armor out of them that provides with immunity to our breath attacks, and weapons sharp and strong enough to pierce our scaly hide. How barbaric and insulting, I mean I’m a member of a race that used to dominate across the entire friggin’ multiverse, and now said race is being reduced down to big monster fodder for “heroes”. Eventually? We will be reduced down to friggin pets one day, just you watch, one day, some idiot dragon is going to let a friggin’ ELF or worse a HUMAN ride on their backs and being their mount! Oh wait its already happening! It is not enough for them small fries to kill my kind for weapons and armor, they have to turn every single member they don’t kill into pets and mounts as well! Yea you can tell I’m a bit bitter.
Well this dragon is living mate. You can take your little dragonslayer hero and shove it. I didn’t escape myself from the cave dragon stereotype for nothin’. I have traveled across the multiverse, seen and experienced too much of life to let go of it- cause I want more y’know? To you five thousand years sounds pretty long and sanity-shattering, to us higher beings with our brains being born that way, its sounds just right. So yeah, I’mma gunna get outta here, bring on your sword and shield guy, I’m ready to roast him.
So yea, I’m dragged in these chains through the coliseum until I walk out into the shining light of battle floor, my red eyes taking everything in and my blue scales sparkling like the ocean friggin’ blue. Yea those scales are from me mother, like them? The red eyes, fire breath and cheerful personality are from my father, he was a jerk. I ran away from him when I was like, fifty which is the draconic equivalent of a teenager disowning his family. Me mother, She’s dead. Enough about that, the crowds in the stands were booing and jeering at me, the chained scale beast (who is pretty intelligent and has invented robots) who kidnaps young beautiful women (I only did this once, and she asked me to, long story ok? Just trust me on this.) thus luring the knight to its cave of endless gold (I prefer libraries of endless books) so that the dragon can toast said knight alive (guilty as charged; I don’t like knights.) then go pillage the town in flame to gather more gold and feast upon the innocent villagers. (My palate is more refined than eating human, I prefer finer things like steak, chicken, elf, bananas and apples.)
I mean really, do these people really believe all the old myths? Granted there is some truth to it, because as far as I can tell the dragons obviously didn’t like it when the small fry peoples started to rise up against them in ancient times, thus making the dragons torch things left and right. Really though, by now most of the dragons just seem to be cave-dwelling hermits sitting on piles of gold they never use, why do people keep bothering us for no reason? Same thing with orcs and goblins, as far I can tell they don’t really seem to have any reason to be barbaric monsters, or threats other than that the humans say so. In fact, in my research there are many worlds where orcs and goblin turned to barbarism precisely because humans dwarves and elves pushed them out of more verdant lands and into harsh environments where they toughened up then decided to seek revenge on those races because of it.
Anyways my opponent surprised me: it was, of all things a wizard. Normal knight, sword and shield guy? Roast him any day of the week. Wizards are trickier, cause y’know…magic, kind of obvious; you know what I’m talking about. The fact that I’m facing a wizard tells me that either: A) The hero this guy is reenacting was actually intelligent or B) This guy isn’t reenacting any dragonslayer guy at all and actually knows the best possible way to take down a dragon. It doesn’t matter which; the reenactment would probably be the best possible way anyways. My opinion on wizards themselves is that they don’t really make sense to me; if they put their brains together they could start an industrial revolution in a month, tops. Instead they go around seeking out power for themselves from ancient artifacts and other things that wiped out the civilizations before them. It is ironic in that if they really did work together, they could achieve the power they are looking for but, whatever. The less egomaniacs with the power to warp reality running around the better.
The wizard started to speak.
“Dragon! I have brought you here for my revenge!-“
“Revenge? Oh hey, that’s new- well not really- but usually from you dragonslaying types I hear “You shall be vanquished, vile beast of flame!” or “Thou art about to meet thy doom, great wyrm! For am Insert Name Here!”
I could tell he was frustrated from his slanted eyebrows and fiery eyes, I love ticking people off.
“-As I was saying…I have brought you here for my revenge. My name is Creg Mcdalson.”
“Ok, why do you seek revenge, Creg?”
“…You mean you don’t remember?” the wizard known as Creg blinked blankly.
“Nope, not one bit.”
You see, dragons have far better memories than all you guys. We have to, otherwise I’d would’ve already forgotten my name and where I come from and pretty much everything else about me. This doesn’t mean our memory is perfect however- we are prone to missing details from time to time like everyone else, especially when they are particularly forgettable, and of course when said memories are of what happened thousands of years ago. The end result being of course that I have no clue what this guy was talking about.
“…Liar! You know what happened!” Creg pointed and shouted at me.
“What? Who did I kill? Your father?”
He fired a lightning bolt at me that I quickly dodged. General cheekiness was probably not the way to keep him calm, but I was more concentrating upon beating this guy and getting out of here. A frustrated foe is easily beaten.
“I guess that is no, your mother then?”
Another lightning bolt, I was getting on his nerves.
“Hmm….I’m guessing a grandparent then?”
This time he fired a jet of water at me, this time I scurried out the way like no tomorrow-
I breathe fire, if water enters my body I can become sick for weeks or even die. Sure there wasn’t big chance of that right now but you can never be too careful.
“Oh, son and/or daughter! Understandable.”
This elicited a particularly violent reaction; he fired both lightning and a jet of water at me, plus irrationally aimed a fireball even it though it would have no effect even if it hit me.
“Hm...seems a little far to go for an aunt or uncle…”
With this a drake was summoned. The dumb animal flew at me, trying to rake me with its claws and bite me. I set it on fire with my breath then slammed it to the ground; drakes are only shallow reflections of the real thing: me.
“Ok, a friend of yours? Best friend? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
Creg gritted his teeth as he growled out.
“You were very close with that last one, dragon.”
“Girlfriend? I killed your- no, did I kill your wife? Aw man…”
Creg was now levitating into the air, his eyes ablaze.
“No, you didn’t kill anyone. In fact I hate you for giving life.”
“Wait, what are you- oh. That explains it. I slept with your wife. Too bad eh?”
Creg clenched his hands into fists and yelled.
“Too bad! Too bad!? Is that all you have to say for yourself? My wife cheats on me for you, and that’s all you have to say!?”
“Hey Creg, I’m a dragon. A five thousand year old dragon. A life that long can get lonely mate, and wives aren’t bearable for more than a hundred years, know what I’m saying? I’ve slept with literally hundreds of women across thousands of years, slowly building up my family of Descendants. One beautiful woman I’ve slept with doesn’t really look different than the other after a while to be honest, which is kind of depressing.”
Yea, yea say what you will about that draconic promiscuity stereotype- there is a lot of truth behind it. I mean when you’re an immortal shapeshifting hyper-intelligent flying lizard whose species isn’t exactly the most common in the multiverse, you bet as said member of said species that you going to make said species a little more common. Worse, we are so rare that we are beginning to become desperate and start settling for passing on our genes to half-dragons, which just shows how much we want the dragons to be remembered- even if it is as “that race that contributed to half of the half-dragons genes.” I know, in our own way dragons are pathetic despite all our might.
Still, you know why my kind is so rare? Cause all your “heroes” and “dragon slayers”- you keep sending them out to kill us. That is right, because your friggin’ adventurers, my kind has become super-promiscuous as an adaptive trait to be being so few in number.
Before all you elves and humans and all that (except the dwarves, they never did nothing but mine away through their mountains, I’m ok with them.) came along and started killing us because we looked ugly to your standards, things were just fine dang it!
Whatever, lets get back on topic shall we?
“So really? Me sleeping with your wife? Nothing special, at least not to me, heck with my shape-shifting powers I’ve slept with husbands but that’s something different.”
You humans and your silly gender distinctions, I care not for such trivial things.
“Point is, what makes you so special other than the fact you were angry and powerful enough to track me all the way down just to give me a piece of your mind eh?”
Creg’s head lowered.
“…I didn’t just come just because you slept with my wife. No that I could handle.
What I could not handle was that you left a half-dragon son with me, abandoned him! I stood by though, I used illusions to make him seem like everyone else. I convinced and told him lies to make him stop his questions upon everything and himself. Me and my wife raised the son you ran away from, we were at least responsible!
Then one day the illusion failed, the townspeople chased me, your son and my wife out of town for lying to them all and daring to raise a half-dragon child in their midst. I never saw him again.”
His voice heightened and became angry again.
“All because you needed somebody to sleep with because you felt that you were a lonely immortal. My entire life ruined because of you!”
He started to charge up a spell, I quickly flew forward and slammed him against the wall, pinning him to it.
“What would you have me do? I’ve got hundreds of children that I’ve abandoned and left to fend for themselves. It breeds independence, self-reliance, self responsibility. They cannot grow up to be strong with my guidance; if I stayed I just would have been a bad father to them. It is better that they don’t know me at all.”
“That is garbage and you know it!” Creg shouted back.
Deep down inside I do know it. I just don’t have the strength to admit it.
“Anyways.” I continued “You know the coliseum rules: I earn my freedom when I kill you since it is a revenge match. I could just crush you right now and I’d legally be outta here.”
I instead dropped him.
“However I’m not really good with following the rules anyways. Hasta la vista, I’m finding my own way out.”
With that I used my draconic super-strength to rip off my chains and cuffs then I flew straight upwards, dispelling the arcane containment field at the top and flying free like a bird into the sky.
I needed to take care of something important, to find someone to specific. I accessed my magic again and started to scry.
Scrying feels weird to me, almost as if your taking your eyeballs and stretching them to infinite lengths while bending and twisting them around corners and through tunnels, Or maybe its more like I’m ripping my sight out of myself and hurling it across the multiverse like a boomerang with rockets attached to it. Yea scrying is strange like that, and one of my colleagues in magical research told me that it has mind-warping effects upon diviners who used such magic frequently because the mind isn’t built to perceive things from so far across time and space. I’m working on making some scrying artificial intelligences that could do it instead, but those will take another few hundred years to invent. Integrating magic and technology is sometimes harder than you think.
Anyways my perception zoomed across the multiverse, going past the millions of planes dwelling in its all encompassing expanse. I’ve probably only been to one out of those millions my sight passed and even then I might or might not remember which one. I’ve seen many planes, but I probably won’t ever see them all, even with my immortality.
My scrying sight began to zoom in and slow down as if I’m slowly fall downwards. The scrying sight pierced the planes outer shell, showing me the entire plane- blue oceans, continents with a bunch of mountains, forests, deserts and yadda yadda yadda. Give me a good ol’ grey cityscape of flying cars, robots and digital screens over all that nature stuff.
My sight finally zoomed down to the person I was looking for. For a second I saw him, and then the perception snapped back to me. Once again flying in the air, I readied the spell and in a flash of light I teleported.
Let me tell you about teleporting: I love it. It makes you feel all weightless and free while giving you focus. You also feel like you are nowhere, but everywhere at the same time. It is almost as if when you teleport you are one with the multiverse itself, I feel tranquil and at peace when I teleport. It is just that great moment of being bound not any dimension, of being anywhere I want to be while the temporal magi-spatial winds of energy blow by my face and the feeling of utter peace flows through my being as I know that nothing, no law or rule applies to me, that for a moment I am the most free I can ever be.
It is because of that feeling why I’ve raised my hobby of teleporting to an art form. I am one of the best darn teleporters in the multiverse and proud of it. One day I’ll make a device that will allow everyone to teleport, then silly things like cars and planes won’t be needed anymore- though of course I shouldn’t overdo it, people still need to walk, don’t want them becoming lazy. Remind me to implement teleportation in moderation, will you?
In another flash of light I appeared at my destination. I wasn’t my exact destination- even with my mastery; teleportation isn’t an exact form of magic. I fly for a few minutes over the jungle, passing by plants that I know a few of my friends would be interested in, but didn’t catch my eye. I saw the person I came to find and landed right in front of him.
I had landed right in front of my son, the half-dragon Creg Mcdalson told me about.
“Hello. I…apologize for abandoning you. I am your real father, what is your name?”
To be honest, it felt weird to be asking my own son what his name was.
“Hmph. Twenty-five years you abandoned me and now you come back? Why should I even reply?”
“I didn’t even know you existed until a few minutes ago, when the wizard came to me looking for revenge. Now will you please tell me your name, son?”
He sighed. “My name is Virnash, Father.”
That “Father” stung me like a bee, but I ignored it.
Virnash the half dragon seemed to be a warrior- he wore torn pants, no shirt but big black jacket and had a warhammer slung to his back. He had the blue scales of his grandmother and the green eyes of his mother.
“So what, you gonna take me with you or something? Little late for that.”
“Heh. That was never my intention, boy.”
I teleported a bag of gold and a talisman into my hands and gave them to him.
“Here, use this gold to get armor, or a better hammer or whatever I don’t care. The talisman is so that you can disguise yourself as a human so that-“
I was cut off by Virnash throwing the talisman into the bushes in disgust
“I don’t need your stinking talisman, I’m proud of what I am thank you, even if I’m not proud of you.”
At this I burst into laughter, bewildering Virnash into confusion.
“What’s so funny?”
“Heh…that talisman was a dud, you’ve already learned to accept what you are…good. Good. I am sorry that I can’t really do anything more for you- or your siblings. I truly am, but…I promise I’ll make it up to you…all of you.”
Then I flew up into the sky and teleported away, leaving Virnash with a confused look and sack of gold.
If you listened closely, you could hear my heart shattering into a million pieces.
hope y'all tell me what you think of it.
Hi, my name is Zarakkan. I’m a five thousand year old dragon, very magically and physically powerful, I’m also sort of a magitech inventor, I like to make a bunch of stuff powered by magic you see and-oh.
Oh what? You...want to know what is happening? Oh right. Sorry, I tend to ramble.
Well right now I’m sort of captured and in the holding cells of some coliseum on some plane of a barbaric town. You know, the usual “we capture you as slaves, you fight one another, we make big mullah off bets see? Now get in there before we poke you with metal sticks.” Type of deal. How did I end up here, with me being so powerful and all that? Well let me just say this mate: NEVER trust any tavern wench who claims to have escaped from the coliseum while she is wearing a dog collar, which is all I’m saying of it.
Anyways, here I am, dragon in coliseum, they obviously want me to stand in as some sort of reenactment dragon of some Hero Vanquishing The Vile Beast. I know, makes it sick to your stomach, am I right?
Which reminds me, dragonslayers. Hate ‘em, for obvious reasons. Though some do more than just go around killing my kind- some of them harvest the dragons claws and scales to make armor out of them that provides with immunity to our breath attacks, and weapons sharp and strong enough to pierce our scaly hide. How barbaric and insulting, I mean I’m a member of a race that used to dominate across the entire friggin’ multiverse, and now said race is being reduced down to big monster fodder for “heroes”. Eventually? We will be reduced down to friggin pets one day, just you watch, one day, some idiot dragon is going to let a friggin’ ELF or worse a HUMAN ride on their backs and being their mount! Oh wait its already happening! It is not enough for them small fries to kill my kind for weapons and armor, they have to turn every single member they don’t kill into pets and mounts as well! Yea you can tell I’m a bit bitter.
Well this dragon is living mate. You can take your little dragonslayer hero and shove it. I didn’t escape myself from the cave dragon stereotype for nothin’. I have traveled across the multiverse, seen and experienced too much of life to let go of it- cause I want more y’know? To you five thousand years sounds pretty long and sanity-shattering, to us higher beings with our brains being born that way, its sounds just right. So yeah, I’mma gunna get outta here, bring on your sword and shield guy, I’m ready to roast him.
So yea, I’m dragged in these chains through the coliseum until I walk out into the shining light of battle floor, my red eyes taking everything in and my blue scales sparkling like the ocean friggin’ blue. Yea those scales are from me mother, like them? The red eyes, fire breath and cheerful personality are from my father, he was a jerk. I ran away from him when I was like, fifty which is the draconic equivalent of a teenager disowning his family. Me mother, She’s dead. Enough about that, the crowds in the stands were booing and jeering at me, the chained scale beast (who is pretty intelligent and has invented robots) who kidnaps young beautiful women (I only did this once, and she asked me to, long story ok? Just trust me on this.) thus luring the knight to its cave of endless gold (I prefer libraries of endless books) so that the dragon can toast said knight alive (guilty as charged; I don’t like knights.) then go pillage the town in flame to gather more gold and feast upon the innocent villagers. (My palate is more refined than eating human, I prefer finer things like steak, chicken, elf, bananas and apples.)
I mean really, do these people really believe all the old myths? Granted there is some truth to it, because as far as I can tell the dragons obviously didn’t like it when the small fry peoples started to rise up against them in ancient times, thus making the dragons torch things left and right. Really though, by now most of the dragons just seem to be cave-dwelling hermits sitting on piles of gold they never use, why do people keep bothering us for no reason? Same thing with orcs and goblins, as far I can tell they don’t really seem to have any reason to be barbaric monsters, or threats other than that the humans say so. In fact, in my research there are many worlds where orcs and goblin turned to barbarism precisely because humans dwarves and elves pushed them out of more verdant lands and into harsh environments where they toughened up then decided to seek revenge on those races because of it.
Anyways my opponent surprised me: it was, of all things a wizard. Normal knight, sword and shield guy? Roast him any day of the week. Wizards are trickier, cause y’know…magic, kind of obvious; you know what I’m talking about. The fact that I’m facing a wizard tells me that either: A) The hero this guy is reenacting was actually intelligent or B) This guy isn’t reenacting any dragonslayer guy at all and actually knows the best possible way to take down a dragon. It doesn’t matter which; the reenactment would probably be the best possible way anyways. My opinion on wizards themselves is that they don’t really make sense to me; if they put their brains together they could start an industrial revolution in a month, tops. Instead they go around seeking out power for themselves from ancient artifacts and other things that wiped out the civilizations before them. It is ironic in that if they really did work together, they could achieve the power they are looking for but, whatever. The less egomaniacs with the power to warp reality running around the better.
The wizard started to speak.
“Dragon! I have brought you here for my revenge!-“
“Revenge? Oh hey, that’s new- well not really- but usually from you dragonslaying types I hear “You shall be vanquished, vile beast of flame!” or “Thou art about to meet thy doom, great wyrm! For am Insert Name Here!”
I could tell he was frustrated from his slanted eyebrows and fiery eyes, I love ticking people off.
“-As I was saying…I have brought you here for my revenge. My name is Creg Mcdalson.”
“Ok, why do you seek revenge, Creg?”
“…You mean you don’t remember?” the wizard known as Creg blinked blankly.
“Nope, not one bit.”
You see, dragons have far better memories than all you guys. We have to, otherwise I’d would’ve already forgotten my name and where I come from and pretty much everything else about me. This doesn’t mean our memory is perfect however- we are prone to missing details from time to time like everyone else, especially when they are particularly forgettable, and of course when said memories are of what happened thousands of years ago. The end result being of course that I have no clue what this guy was talking about.
“…Liar! You know what happened!” Creg pointed and shouted at me.
“What? Who did I kill? Your father?”
He fired a lightning bolt at me that I quickly dodged. General cheekiness was probably not the way to keep him calm, but I was more concentrating upon beating this guy and getting out of here. A frustrated foe is easily beaten.
“I guess that is no, your mother then?”
Another lightning bolt, I was getting on his nerves.
“Hmm….I’m guessing a grandparent then?”
This time he fired a jet of water at me, this time I scurried out the way like no tomorrow-
I breathe fire, if water enters my body I can become sick for weeks or even die. Sure there wasn’t big chance of that right now but you can never be too careful.
“Oh, son and/or daughter! Understandable.”
This elicited a particularly violent reaction; he fired both lightning and a jet of water at me, plus irrationally aimed a fireball even it though it would have no effect even if it hit me.
“Hm...seems a little far to go for an aunt or uncle…”
With this a drake was summoned. The dumb animal flew at me, trying to rake me with its claws and bite me. I set it on fire with my breath then slammed it to the ground; drakes are only shallow reflections of the real thing: me.
“Ok, a friend of yours? Best friend? Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
Creg gritted his teeth as he growled out.
“You were very close with that last one, dragon.”
“Girlfriend? I killed your- no, did I kill your wife? Aw man…”
Creg was now levitating into the air, his eyes ablaze.
“No, you didn’t kill anyone. In fact I hate you for giving life.”
“Wait, what are you- oh. That explains it. I slept with your wife. Too bad eh?”
Creg clenched his hands into fists and yelled.
“Too bad! Too bad!? Is that all you have to say for yourself? My wife cheats on me for you, and that’s all you have to say!?”
“Hey Creg, I’m a dragon. A five thousand year old dragon. A life that long can get lonely mate, and wives aren’t bearable for more than a hundred years, know what I’m saying? I’ve slept with literally hundreds of women across thousands of years, slowly building up my family of Descendants. One beautiful woman I’ve slept with doesn’t really look different than the other after a while to be honest, which is kind of depressing.”
Yea, yea say what you will about that draconic promiscuity stereotype- there is a lot of truth behind it. I mean when you’re an immortal shapeshifting hyper-intelligent flying lizard whose species isn’t exactly the most common in the multiverse, you bet as said member of said species that you going to make said species a little more common. Worse, we are so rare that we are beginning to become desperate and start settling for passing on our genes to half-dragons, which just shows how much we want the dragons to be remembered- even if it is as “that race that contributed to half of the half-dragons genes.” I know, in our own way dragons are pathetic despite all our might.
Still, you know why my kind is so rare? Cause all your “heroes” and “dragon slayers”- you keep sending them out to kill us. That is right, because your friggin’ adventurers, my kind has become super-promiscuous as an adaptive trait to be being so few in number.
Before all you elves and humans and all that (except the dwarves, they never did nothing but mine away through their mountains, I’m ok with them.) came along and started killing us because we looked ugly to your standards, things were just fine dang it!
Whatever, lets get back on topic shall we?
“So really? Me sleeping with your wife? Nothing special, at least not to me, heck with my shape-shifting powers I’ve slept with husbands but that’s something different.”
You humans and your silly gender distinctions, I care not for such trivial things.
“Point is, what makes you so special other than the fact you were angry and powerful enough to track me all the way down just to give me a piece of your mind eh?”
Creg’s head lowered.
“…I didn’t just come just because you slept with my wife. No that I could handle.
What I could not handle was that you left a half-dragon son with me, abandoned him! I stood by though, I used illusions to make him seem like everyone else. I convinced and told him lies to make him stop his questions upon everything and himself. Me and my wife raised the son you ran away from, we were at least responsible!
Then one day the illusion failed, the townspeople chased me, your son and my wife out of town for lying to them all and daring to raise a half-dragon child in their midst. I never saw him again.”
His voice heightened and became angry again.
“All because you needed somebody to sleep with because you felt that you were a lonely immortal. My entire life ruined because of you!”
He started to charge up a spell, I quickly flew forward and slammed him against the wall, pinning him to it.
“What would you have me do? I’ve got hundreds of children that I’ve abandoned and left to fend for themselves. It breeds independence, self-reliance, self responsibility. They cannot grow up to be strong with my guidance; if I stayed I just would have been a bad father to them. It is better that they don’t know me at all.”
“That is garbage and you know it!” Creg shouted back.
Deep down inside I do know it. I just don’t have the strength to admit it.
“Anyways.” I continued “You know the coliseum rules: I earn my freedom when I kill you since it is a revenge match. I could just crush you right now and I’d legally be outta here.”
I instead dropped him.
“However I’m not really good with following the rules anyways. Hasta la vista, I’m finding my own way out.”
With that I used my draconic super-strength to rip off my chains and cuffs then I flew straight upwards, dispelling the arcane containment field at the top and flying free like a bird into the sky.
I needed to take care of something important, to find someone to specific. I accessed my magic again and started to scry.
Scrying feels weird to me, almost as if your taking your eyeballs and stretching them to infinite lengths while bending and twisting them around corners and through tunnels, Or maybe its more like I’m ripping my sight out of myself and hurling it across the multiverse like a boomerang with rockets attached to it. Yea scrying is strange like that, and one of my colleagues in magical research told me that it has mind-warping effects upon diviners who used such magic frequently because the mind isn’t built to perceive things from so far across time and space. I’m working on making some scrying artificial intelligences that could do it instead, but those will take another few hundred years to invent. Integrating magic and technology is sometimes harder than you think.
Anyways my perception zoomed across the multiverse, going past the millions of planes dwelling in its all encompassing expanse. I’ve probably only been to one out of those millions my sight passed and even then I might or might not remember which one. I’ve seen many planes, but I probably won’t ever see them all, even with my immortality.
My scrying sight began to zoom in and slow down as if I’m slowly fall downwards. The scrying sight pierced the planes outer shell, showing me the entire plane- blue oceans, continents with a bunch of mountains, forests, deserts and yadda yadda yadda. Give me a good ol’ grey cityscape of flying cars, robots and digital screens over all that nature stuff.
My sight finally zoomed down to the person I was looking for. For a second I saw him, and then the perception snapped back to me. Once again flying in the air, I readied the spell and in a flash of light I teleported.
Let me tell you about teleporting: I love it. It makes you feel all weightless and free while giving you focus. You also feel like you are nowhere, but everywhere at the same time. It is almost as if when you teleport you are one with the multiverse itself, I feel tranquil and at peace when I teleport. It is just that great moment of being bound not any dimension, of being anywhere I want to be while the temporal magi-spatial winds of energy blow by my face and the feeling of utter peace flows through my being as I know that nothing, no law or rule applies to me, that for a moment I am the most free I can ever be.
It is because of that feeling why I’ve raised my hobby of teleporting to an art form. I am one of the best darn teleporters in the multiverse and proud of it. One day I’ll make a device that will allow everyone to teleport, then silly things like cars and planes won’t be needed anymore- though of course I shouldn’t overdo it, people still need to walk, don’t want them becoming lazy. Remind me to implement teleportation in moderation, will you?
In another flash of light I appeared at my destination. I wasn’t my exact destination- even with my mastery; teleportation isn’t an exact form of magic. I fly for a few minutes over the jungle, passing by plants that I know a few of my friends would be interested in, but didn’t catch my eye. I saw the person I came to find and landed right in front of him.
I had landed right in front of my son, the half-dragon Creg Mcdalson told me about.
“Hello. I…apologize for abandoning you. I am your real father, what is your name?”
To be honest, it felt weird to be asking my own son what his name was.
“Hmph. Twenty-five years you abandoned me and now you come back? Why should I even reply?”
“I didn’t even know you existed until a few minutes ago, when the wizard came to me looking for revenge. Now will you please tell me your name, son?”
He sighed. “My name is Virnash, Father.”
That “Father” stung me like a bee, but I ignored it.
Virnash the half dragon seemed to be a warrior- he wore torn pants, no shirt but big black jacket and had a warhammer slung to his back. He had the blue scales of his grandmother and the green eyes of his mother.
“So what, you gonna take me with you or something? Little late for that.”
“Heh. That was never my intention, boy.”
I teleported a bag of gold and a talisman into my hands and gave them to him.
“Here, use this gold to get armor, or a better hammer or whatever I don’t care. The talisman is so that you can disguise yourself as a human so that-“
I was cut off by Virnash throwing the talisman into the bushes in disgust
“I don’t need your stinking talisman, I’m proud of what I am thank you, even if I’m not proud of you.”
At this I burst into laughter, bewildering Virnash into confusion.
“What’s so funny?”
“Heh…that talisman was a dud, you’ve already learned to accept what you are…good. Good. I am sorry that I can’t really do anything more for you- or your siblings. I truly am, but…I promise I’ll make it up to you…all of you.”
Then I flew up into the sky and teleported away, leaving Virnash with a confused look and sack of gold.
If you listened closely, you could hear my heart shattering into a million pieces.
hope y'all tell me what you think of it.