You become the king of Heaven

It was some time ago that the hero and I came to terms. And they were to be in perpetuity. He could summon me at any time, however many times he had to. Just as long as he burned ancient tomes for me, so that they would end up in my domain, my library. I knew he was quite the capable warrior. He had only summoned me twice in the 13 years we've had our contract. The first was a few months his time afterwards. He and his party needed knowledge on an ancient spell that would disable the defenses of a necromancer's tomb. The second, was to save them from a group of dragons. This time was different. In the times prior to entering the portal, I could feel the lifelines of his friends, this time was only him. As the swirling of the portal came to an end, I saw a grand throne room, made of grey stone and decorated with blood red tapestries and a long, red carpet leading from the throne to the doors. The hero had a sword to his throat. He was badly beaten, one eye was swollen shut, black and bruised. Reaching out with my ancient magic, I knew that he'd lose it without my healing powers. His lip was cut, likely from being struck recently. And I could sense that he had numerous broken bones. He was shackled, hand and foot. I looked around to see frightend people and dutiful knights and soldiers, awaiting the order of the one sitting on the throne. I turned to face them, and could see the familial resemblance between the King and the hero. "Who are you, how dare you interrupt this trial?!" The King shouted. "What I am is a far better question, isn't it, my dear hero?" I responded, addressing my question to the man bound and beaten. With a flick of my hand, the knight holding the steel to his throat was turned into a dove, armor and all. As the other men advanced, a wave of my other hand held them in place. I touched my hero's face, healing his eye and all his other injuries with it. His shackles followed. He stood, rubbing his still sore wrists. "Thank you, my friend." "This I assume is the uncle you told me about oh so long ago?" "It is." "Ah, perfect." I walked up to the terror stricken king as cowered against his throne. "I will enjoy tortuing you for eternity." He screamed as the dark, shadowy tentacles burst from my body, wrapping around him as they pulled him into my domain. His crown delicately clinked on the floor, rolling to the feet of my hero. I burped once the former king stopped struggling and turned to my friend. "Thank you," he said after picking up the crown. "Of course." I smiled. "Don't be a stranger my dear, abd send me a few more books if possible, I've read my entire collection a countless times over."

This is really interesting, not what I was expecting

[removed]

"Welcome" a warm deep voice tells you, "you can open your eyes you know." You do, the voice belongs to tall man with black curly hair who smiles kindly at you. You're laying on soft grass and the sunlight is filtered through leaves of the trees around you, laughter and music fight for your attention from beyond your field of vision. "Am I?" "Dead, yes I'm sorry, welcome to the Asphodel meadows, i hope you will like it." "I, thanks." You say as the man helps you stand. You're in an Orchard and as far as your eyes can reach you see verdent trees and fields. "Technically you fought a bitter fight and died gloriously so if you want you do also have the right to go to Elysium, but most people seem to want to be here in the end, less rowdy. There are lakes further away and you don't have to work. If you have any hobbys your want to indulge in we can always accomodate them, but all in all, this is the land of peace, East what you will, rest where you will. You are safe here."

The "of course" is an interjection modifying the first clause of the sentence. I can put it more or less wherever I want. The base sentence is "This is ridiculous, hence why it's funny", with "of course" being inserted as flavour - "Of course, this is ridiculous" and "This is ridiculous, of course" are equally valid.

Anyone who tells you that there is exactly one correct right way to write English is a filthy liar and not to be trusted. English exists to play with.

As I lay in my dirt hovel, drinking from a clay cup of my own making, I look at the disciples who had gathered in my little corner of the desert to learn from me. They are both young specimens, yet almost unrecognizable from the first of their kind, with sharp minds, bronze tools and bright futures. Despite this they braved the desert to disturb me, chasing ancient rumors. After I spent the first century of my life forming this world, all life in it, and the very air they breathe, I thought these creatures would be eager to be rid of my influence. They came up with their own Gods and spirits, their own origins, their own worlds to forget about me, yet here they are. 2 of them. I had nothing to offer them, the powers that I have wielded can not be used by them and I own little more than what's necessary to meet my needs in this harsh environment.

​

As I silently look into the eyes of my students, the tall, bald one speaks up again. "Did you hear me? I said why? Why hide away from the world. You built an oasis for yourself out here, but the world needs you. There is war brewing in the-" "SILENCE! You insignificant beetle, do you think I care the slightest who kills who beyond my oasis? I gave you the world, if you plan to kill each other over who gets what its not my problem." my words hang in the air like mist, the tallest one opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

The short one will take a moment, before shouting back at me "Our gods are all willing to help us. The god of war even blessed our last battle ritual. All of the gods are on our side, but you sit here in this hideous form still licking your wounds from when you were kicked from Heaven. You are path-" I do not let her finish speaking before I rise to my full height on my front tendrils, acid dripping from my mouth "LET ME MAKE ONE THING CLEAR." the startled scholars realize a line has been crossed, and the tall one tries to step away from his friend. "I am the only god left on this planet! There used to be trillions of us, every star in the sky belonged to us!" the short scholar is dragged to the ground, acid burning the ground by her feet as it pools "I didn't come to your planet to protect it just so beings like you could try and rub our failure in. I most certainly didn't come this far into the desert to help you fight any wars" the tall scholar slips past my anthropoid form to flee into the burning desert, but I remain focused on the insolent ape beneath me. "And I didn't crash land here during the star purge by accident. Now..." I bring my mandibles close to her face, acid barely missing her. "Should you ever force me to become involved in your petty disputes, it will not end how you want it to."

I take a step back, and allow her to stand back up. "Now run along, there are more important things in the universe than your petty kingdoms for me to care about."

[removed]

[removed]

We'd set out on our journey with modest hopes. Make some deliveries, do a bit of trading, maybe explore some under-examined parts of The Void. This mission wasn't meant to be a grand, ambitious quest, it was a glorified road trip with some side hustles along the way... But apparently, that was still a bit too close to the sun for the IVC Icarus, because we were caught up in a Void storm and were left adrift.

I didn't even know if the rest of the crew was still alive. We'd been stuck in separate chambers when the hull was breached, and the life support rune matrix had given out two hours ago. However, just as the air was starting to get thin in the room I'd been stuck in, a knocking came at the door.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" a voice called out.

"What? Who's out there? The ship's life support is down!" I said.

"Oi, look alive gents, we've got a live one in here!" the voice said, clearly directing their words to someone else. Then they shouted back at me. "Do you have a breathing apparatus in there?"

"I used most of my mana reserves trying to save the ship, I couldn't power one even if I had it," I said.

"Boys, fetch an emergency apparatus from the stockpile!" the voice said. A minute or two passed before they pounded on the door again and said. "Hold your breath, buddy, we're cracking in."

I drew a breath quickly, and braced myself as they rammed their way through the door, allowing the air to escape despite the runes that had been keeping it contained. On the other side stood a woman in outdated imperial garb, flanked by several men wearing an assemblage of clothing from random places, in various states of repair.

"Knock knock," she said, tossing an amulet to me. I caught the piece of metal, and immediately felt a pocket of air form over my body, protecting me from the cold caress of the Void.

"Thank the gods you arrived when you did..." I said. "So who are you?"

"Ship crackers, junk filchers, scrap collectors, whatever you want to call it," the woman said. "We saw this derelict vessel floating about, and figured we might be able to get a good haul from it. Turns out it's fresh enough to have warm bodies in it, who knew?"

"So, not an imperial rescue team. I suppose that was too much to hope for," I said. "Have you found anyone else?"

"A few frozen corpses, and one comatose kid, but there are a few rooms we haven't searched yet. Come on, let's get you somewhere that has... You know, air," she said. She turned toward the man wearing a plaid vest and tricorn hat. "Bertie, check the next one while I escort our new guest..."

"Right away, Ma'am," the man said, walking over to a janitor's closet. If there was any more than a single servant in there, they were unlikely to have survived.

The posh woman led me through to a large fissure in the ship, with a door pressed against it into a different vessel. She the way into the halls of a somewhat past-its-prime ship full of random bits of treasure and memorabilia.

"What the hell is all this?" I asked.

"Loot, plunder, treasure... What's it look like?" she asked, continuing down the hall.

"Loot? Plunder? What sort of operation is this?" I asked.

"What do you mean what kind of- Oh, wait, you haven't pieced it together yet, have you?" she asked. "The name's Alexandria Torrentia Polypheus Renholt III, better known as Queen Tor-Pol."

"Queen T- Oh... Shit, this is a pirate vessel isn't it?" I asked.

"The best pirate vessel, thank you very much. You're aboard the Intrepid Valor," Tor-Pol said.

"Right... So what happens next?" I asked.

"Well, once we've found all your ship's personnel, living and otherwise, we'll remove any equipment and magical devices still in working order. Once those are out, we'll strip any valuable scrap from the ship, such as the rune conduits and burnt out rune matrices, then figure out whether it's worth dragging the remaining hulk in to be refitted or dismantled for parts, or if we should just leave it to fill some of the Void's endless hunger," Queen Tor-Pol said.

"I was actually more curious what would happen to me and my crewmates," I said.

"Ah, I see. Well, that depends on who you are..." the Queen said, pausing for a moment. "...That's, uh, that's your cue to tell me who you are..."

"Oh, sure. I am Velsor Tinnarus, Operations Magi of the Imperial Void Crawler Icarus. No, I did not get a vote on the name of our vessel, nor is the irony lost on me," I said.

"Ooh, Magi, eh?" Tor-Pol said. "Those are some valuable skills. Probably worth a pretty penny to ransom back to the Empire, or you could stick around and help out our little operation. Plenty of coin to be had, and we typically don't have imperial enforcers kicking in our door."

"Pretty piss poor at their jobs then," I said.

"Aye, more invested in crushing their own people than the actual outlaws, they are, but that's none of my business," Tor-Pol said with a shrug as she stepped into what appeared to be some sort of mess hall. She turned toward a young man wearing a striped shirt and a neckerchief. "Chauncy! Fetch our guest some bread and wine! And don't let him out of your sight, I've got to go oversee the rest of the search!"

"O-okay, Ma'am!" the young man said, stumbling over a chair as he tried to walk toward the barkeeper without turning his head away from me.

"You can relax, Chauncy! There's nowhere for me to flee to anyway!" I called after him.

"Right-o. Well, if all goes well more of your crew might be alive, but if I were you I'd start figuring out whether you want to join us or not. In any case, I'm off," Tor-Pol said, heading for the door.

I sat down at a table and waited for Chauncy to bring the food he'd been told to provide. The wine was foggy, probably a cheap Merlot from the look of it, and the only serving receptacle he brought was a shallow trencher and a cup, both made of wood. The "bread" was a ship's biscuit, as hard as a rock and about half as palatable, so I poured a bit of the wine onto the dish and let it soak into the bread.

"So, uh, how did you get stranded?" Chauncy asked.

"Ah yes, the one subject I was itching most to discuss at this exact moment," I said, narrowing my eyes at the young man. He shrunk back under my gaze, and I relented. "But I suppose it's worth at least venting a bit..."

I told the young man my take on events. How the Captain decided to chart a course directly through a boulder ring instead of going around as I had advised, acquiescing to the helmsman's insistence that "he could get us through" and that "it would be faster". By the time we'd gotten through, our defense system had burned through a quarter of our mana preventing the drifting stones from ripping us asunder. "No problem", they had said, "there's a rest stop in the next realm", but the station we reached had recently fought off a Void Dragon, so they didn't have enough mana in reserve to sell us any. Such was an ever-present risk in the Void, and the reason I didn't want to spend our energy unnecessarily.

We had trekked on, and found another crew in need of help. However, the captain didn't deign to wake me up, so I slept through the entire operation and we missed the chance to siphon their mana cores before leaving. By the time we docked next, we were at half of our max capacity, and said dock didn't have a mana station. We set out on the excruciating next leg of the journey, and ended up stuck in a time anomaly for a week, by the end of which we were so low on energy that we had to choose between keeping the lights on or keeping life support running...

"So what did you do?" Chauncy asked.

I stared blankly at him for a moment before saying, "Believe it or not, we elected to continue breathing and burned candles for light instead. Suffice to say, by the time the Voidlings showed up and breached our hull, the situation was basically doomed already. I swear, if there's any justice in this world the captain had better be among the bodies..."

As if on cue, a voice called out from the entryway into the mess hall. It said, "Velsor! Thank goodness you made it!"

"God dammit..." I said. I turned toward the boisterous man in his Imperial Naval Officer's uniform and said. "Hello, Captain."

[removed]

[removed]

This is amazingly wholesome, and I love the puzzle aspect of it ^^ very well done ^^

Babe wake up, new knifes out plot just dropped.

My first prompt response, hope it's alright! I just wrote stream-of-consciousness as it came to me, so sorry if it's a bit disjointed.

The sylph’s golden goblet clattered several feet to the council room floor, spilling its glowing amber contents. He surged to his feet, grand monarch’s wings fluttering madly. “This is preposterous. We’ve never encountered this before. You’re lying.”

The salamander shrugged, huffing out a cloud of black smoke. “Much as I dislike agreeing with a sylph, Lord Parthis has a point. No fey has encountered this in our many, many years. How would they only now develop iron in their blood?”

“I never thought I would agree with Sindrus,” the naiad laughed, swirling the bubbling beverage she held in an extravagant champagne flute.

Tallian ran a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. Of course the council wouldn’t listen to a simple elf. Emperor Sindrus glared down, his eyes alone nearly lighting Tallian’s tunic on fire, while Lord Parthis looked anywhere but into the center of the hostile council. Queen Ylia only had eyes for her bubbly, seemingly disinterested. Tallian then turned to the silent monolith that was the feared, famed Tyrant Gorr.

“Have you an opinion as well, Tyrant? Any other doubts to throw my way?” Tallian asked, unable to keep the bite out of his words.

The rock troll grumbled and stretched out his long, stony limbs. Then, at length, said, “No.”

Sindrus blinked slowly. “What do you mean, ‘no?’”

“I believe him.”

Tallian couldn’t hold back his sputter of surprise. Of all people, Gorr believed him?

“Then you’ve lost your mind as well,” Parthis scoffed, crossing his arms. His gilded silver plate armor reflected the cascading sunlight the poured in through the center skylight, at least fifty feet above.

“Go on, Gorr. Explain your thinking.” Ylia gestured with her glass, then took a long sip. She was dressed in blue, green and white silks and platinum jewelry over her deep cerulean skin. “This should be good.”

Gorr rumbled out a sigh. He wasn’t one for speech- it was rumored that it genuinely pained him, due to some injury from the Planar Wars. He was the oldest of the council, a patron of the Unseelie Court alongside Ylia. When he did speak, it shook the room, like the movements of tectonic plates.

“It has been eons since any of us has stepped foot into the mortal world. When was the last time any of you fought a human?”

There was silence.

“My point exactly,” Gorr nodded, settling back into his great granite throne with the grinding of stone on stone. His vibrant bloodstone eyes finally opened, casting a glance around at his other councilmembers. “With rising tensions at the planar gates, Tallian has firsthand experience.”

Finally, every pair of eyes landed on Tallian. He gulped and nodded. “Pure cold iron it is not, but the blood of humans burns us. We cannot withstand it for long. If it remains on the skin for more than some short minutes, it can deal lasting damage, even burn through flesh.”

“Do you come with proof?” Parthis asked, slowly settling back into his marble seat.

“I don’t bear the injuries myself, but many compatriots of mine have the scars. A good friend of mine, a dryad by the name of Crimsa, is in intensive care.”

At that, Parthis’s eyes bulged. “One of mine?!”

“Yes, sir.” Ah, so now he cared. Parthis was a relatively young sylph, heavily protective of those in his rings of the Seelie Court.

“How did this occur?” Sindrus interrupted before Parthis could start an uproar.

“Some human mages have developed magic to harness their blood into projectiles. Along with developing more cold iron weaponry,” Tallian paused to breathe deep and wipe a bead of sweat from his brow, “I believe they are preparing to mount an assault on the planar gate and invade Faerie.”

Every councilmember except Gorr exploded into noise and movement. Parthis was up and marching for the door, while Sindrus perched on his basalt throne, his long tail coiling around the stone arm. Ylia was standing on the arm of her coral lounging chair, sending off small messengers of water that flitted off through windows.

Tallian wrung his hands as his leadership descended into chaos, until his gaze met Gorr’s scarlet eyes. Despite the din of three shouting fey, Tallian could hear the old troll’s words as clear as day.

“To whom’s court do you belong?” Gorr rumbled, leaning forward and supporting his weight with his great stone knuckles.

“I belong to the Autumn ring of the Unseelie Court, Tyrant,” Tallian replied.

Gorr nodded slowly, then stood. The grinding of his joints and the loud grunt he released as he rose to his full height silenced the clamor of the room.

“What is it, Gorr?” Parthis asked, one hand on the doorframe and one foot in the portal.

“This one is one of mine. Thus, I have vested interest As do we all when it comes to war in Faerie.” Gorr walked toward Parthis on his hulking fists like a massive stone gorilla, each step shaking the very ground Tallian stood upon. “I would like to request that we meet with our armies and form a coalition between the courts. At least, until we dispel the humans at our gate.”Gorr descended into earthshaking coughs, one fist pressed to his chest.

When the Tyrant’s breathing steadied, Sindrus spoke up. “Gorr speaks the truth. We should prepare for war.”

Ylia nodded, a trail of water dancing between her fingers, and looked to Parthis. The sylph looked repulsed.

“Allying with the Unseelie? Never.” Parthis shook his head fervently.

Gorr sighed and took one long stride closer, looming over Parthis. “The last time the Seelie and Unseelie allied was the Planar War. We only survived because of a united strike between Summer and Autumn. You, young pup, were not around to see it, but if you bothered to read up on strategy, instead of playing sycophant with your brothers, you would learn something.” The rock troll turned to Sindrus. “What say you, old friend?”

The salamander nodded and opened his glowing maw to speak, but was cut off as a forest troll bounded into the room.

“We’re under attack,” the troll said between gasps, “and humans have passed through the Planar Gate.”

Nice!

Magic doesn't exist. There's no such thing as summoning portals, elves, pixies, or supernatural contracts.

At least, that's what the doctors told me. They chalked it up to a dream, or some sort of subconscious hallucination when I hit my head. But then, they also told me that I was extremely lucky, and that people don't survive car accidents like that one. I didn't bother asking them to explain the small pouch full of gold coins in my pocket, the one that I was given in exchange for my help on the adventurer's quest, the coins with the seal of the Kingdom of Arsenjia.

No car crash or head trauma could explain that. It did offset my lost wages from my time in the hospital, and helped pay for my new car, though. The old one was a molten pile of scrap metal, and that was before the jaws of life cut me out of it. None of it added up. Well, the gold added up quite nicely, so I couldn't really complain. So what if the wizard in my dream said that accepting the gold meant that the little adventurer guy could summon me back to this world any time that he needed my assistance -- it was a fun dream, anyway. Sure sounded better than nightmares about the crash and my near-death experience. Big stupid trolls have nothing on an 18-wheeler losing control and sliding toward you on an icy highway, anyway.

Time passed, as it does. Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months, then years. I graduated from college, and got a job, and thoughts of that awful day and that very odd dream became fewer and farther between. A 9-to-5 tends to take up a lot of your time and thoughts. Staying ahead of rent and utility bills does, too. But that's not to say that I didn't have a little bit of time for hobbies, here and there.

I had gotten into target shooting last year. I got some odd looks from some of my coworkers when I talked about it, but it wasn't a big deal. I had grown up in a small town, where everybody had a few guns, and the first day of deer season was practically a holiday. I wasn't ever really that interested, but a rash of violent crime in my neighborhood in the city had me thinking about it, and when a neighbor invited me to the shooting range to give it a try, I was hooked. I got a license, a pistol, and even a rifle that politicians liked to argue about.

In fact, I was at an outdoor range, getting ready to "punch holes in some paper," as the neighbor jokingly called it, when it happened again.

The "dream." But it was different, somehow.

I wasn't in the sleepy medieval-looking farming village full of friendly little cat-people. This time, I was in what looked like a palace. Polished stone floors, marble columns, elaborate candelabras, the works. The only thing that was familiar was the little adventurer. But this was wrong. He was surrounded by several...I'm not sure what you'd call them, goblins, maybe? One of them had a short sword up to the adventurer's neck.

"Danshi, what is going on here?"

He looked up at me, and I could see he was most definitely not having a good time. The swollen black eye and fat lip were pretty universally understandable. Still, he smiled, just a little, when he looked up and saw me. "John, I wasn't sure if you could still hear me, after all this time. I'm sorry if this is a bad time..."

This...didn't feel like a dream. Neither did the flood of memories that came rushing back to me. Stumbling through the dark, musty dungeon of Sovmal, the frigid mountain pass in Dorheim, hundreds of mosquito bites in the swamps of Gar'glan... No, this is real.

The goblin-like creatures noticed that their captive had a guest appear about this time. Whatever magic let me understand Danshi and his people didn't seem to work as well for these other creatures, unless they normally sounded like they talked with a mouth full of mud. For all I knew, maybe they did. I got the impression that one of them asked Danshi if he knew who I was, and the one with the fancier armor asked me what I wanted here. Or what was haunted beer? Probably the former.

I realized that somehow the summoning portal had brought my rifle and range bag through with me, so I shouldered my rifle, aimed at the ugly one with his sword at Danshi's throat, and said "I want you to release my friend. Now, or you die." It didn't sound very hero-like, but I was still coming to terms with this whole thing being apparently real, and fancy speeches hadn't crossed my mind.

Several of the other goblin creatures drew their swords, and I realized that if I didn't want my friend to die, and if I didn't want to get stabbed by an angry bunch of ugly goblin-looking things, talking wasn't going to solve this. So I did what made sense with the tools at hand. I lined up my sights on the first goblin's head, squeezed my trigger...

...and promptly realized why you wear hearing protection at the shooting range. Of course, the goblin on the receiving end would have learned why you don't want to stand down-range when somebody is shooting, if he hadn't been the target. His comrades were stunned, both due to the horrifically loud report of the rifle, and due to the fact that their friend became terminally open-minded.

For a brief moment, there was no hostility, no "my side" or "their side." We all just stood there, ears ringing, dumbstruck at the bloody stump that was the goblin's neck. Eventually, it was Danshi that spoke.

"Now, if you will allow us to leave, nobody else needs to be hurt. If you try to stop us, my wizard friend here," he gestured at me, "will have to do that again. And none of us want that, right?"

The goblins looked around at each other, then at us, and nodded. "Yes. Please leave." I think one of them wet himself. I know I felt like I might, but that probably wouldn't help our situation."

Several awkward moments later, Danshi and I were outside of the goblins' castle, walking along a well-worn dirt path toward the nearby hills. Wincing and rubbing his right ear, Danshi asked me "what in the seven hells was that?!"

I stopped. "Wow, uh, so this is going to take a lot of explanation. And I have a million questions of my own for you, but first," I said, scooping the little cat-man-warrior-thing up into a big hug, "it's so good to see you, buddy! Do you have any idea how much I missed you?"

No matter what this was, no matter what happened next, this was real enough for me, and I never wanted to leave again.

[removed]

“So what happened here?” The detective asked with a frown on his face, eyes scanning the room of people standing awkwardly around the bloody remains sprawled upon the once pristine couch.

“Uhhh, absolutely nothing, officer.” A portly man assured.

“Yes, quite a dull day.” A finely dressed lady affirmed.

“Kind of a weird question, man.” A scruffy looking fellow in an ill-fitting jacket added.

“Why are you even here?” A young woman questioned him.

“There has been a murder ma’am, and I am here to solve it.”

“Oh, there’s been no such thing.” A man in a wheelchair rolled forward, pulling a sheet from behind the couch and over it with the aid of the scruffy fellow at the couches far end. The sheet settled over the corpse, immediately staining various morbid shades of color.

“Preposterous statement, sir.” The well dressed woman scoffed.

The detective rolled his eyes and brought his radio up, “send the wagon.”

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If I close my eyes and really concentrate how it feels to be a dragon and take a flight, I can almost feel the wind under my wings. But like every dragon, I am forced by a magical seal on my chest to the form of a human until I take a test that proves I am capable of handling the true form of a dragon. Dont get my wrong, there is nothing wrong being a human, the other dragons that already broke the seal stay in human form most of the time. But since I my best friend took me on my first flight, I want to experience flying myself, with my own wings, not just on the back of my friend.

I managed to pass every other test and exam without problems and with flying colors, but when I say the words that are supposed to break the seal, nothing happens. It is only one year until graduation, and I am the only one among my friends who still needs to unlock the dragon form. By now, it feels almost as if my wings are cramped under my skin, as is my tail is just waiting to poke out, my hands feel like claws and when I breathe out I almost expect to spew fire. Maybe it is my inner dragon waiting to finally be free, or it is just my imagination. Usually, even before a dragons magic is strong enough to break the seal, it shows cracks and rust, and dragons show each other how weak their seal already is, waiting in anticipation for the glorious day they can break it. But my seal still looks brand new, and not for lack of trying. Day after day, I say the spell should free my dragon form, whisper it, shout it, scream it, but every time, except some small sparks, nothing happens.

One day, I have a different idea. Instead of concentration on my seal, I directly concentrate on my dragon form. What should be impossible worked! For a brief moment, one of my hands became a dragon claw. The news spread fast, nobody should be able to transform with the seal intact, not even partially for a few seconds.

I am glad that at least I will be able to attend the graduation ceremony in 3 month on the top of mount thunder. I wont be able to fly there myself because I can only get one small wing at a time, and only for a few minutes, the seal, still new and shiny, prevented more. But one of my friends could surely give me a ride, and we tried already that I am able to breathe the thin air at these heights.

After the graduation ceremony, I am approached by a member of the great dragon council:

"Unlike the normal seals that are meant to be broken by novice magic, your seal is created by ancient dragon magic and can only be broken by one. The dragon council does not use this kind of magic until absolutely necessary. We are very sorry that we denied you your dragon form for so long, and still have to continue to do so. But your dragon form is far to powerful to be unlocked all at once. It would consume you, preventing you from ever using your human form. In fact, we voted if we should even allow you to use your dragon form at all, or if we should have locked it away forever, raising you as a human child, never telling you that you are a dragon. 7 members of the council voted to keep you human and never let you know about your heritage, 8 voted for the seal you carry now, one of them is talking to you right now. "

We continued talking for a long time, and now I know that some day, I will be able to become a full dragon. Every day I train, every day I try to glide down the stairs, and on some days, I even manage to land without falling flat on my face. I can now spew fire, at least a little flame to light a candle. I can have my scales for hours, my tail for half an hour and my wings for a few minutes, but they are still too small and weak to fly. I patiently wait for the day I can become a complete dragon, but until then, I enjoy my time as a human.

Alright I started one, but I have to go to dinner, and I don't want the thread to die before I finish it because at this point it doesn't feel like it is going to come to a conclusion in short order (kinda hard to conclude a premise when all the protagonists are trying to stop it concluding)

Here's a START to such a story

Auric stared down at the body at his feet, doing his best to look surprised and horrified. Already his plan was falling apart. When he heard the scream and came running, he thought that Blanche had found a spider or something. Mr. Sable, wasn’t meant to be found dead until morning.

Blanche was back in the dining hall being comforted by the other girls, Rudy and Dr. Concord came and joined Auric in the adjoining breakfast nook where Sable lay bleeding. “Oh No!” Rudy exclaimed “There’s so much blood!”

“Not as much as you might expect” interrupted Dr. Concord, kneeling down to check the corpse’s pulse. “Upon initial investigation it seems to me that much of this bleeding may have occurred post-mortem” There was a pause, Concord motioned to rudy to help him turn the body, and the two men did so, at which point the Doctor began ripping open his shirt and feeling his chest.

“What are you doing?” Auric said, more out of genuine confusion than anything “And what do you mean post mortem” Dr. Concord was more than happy to reply “Post Mortem means after death. It seems to me that our illustrious host was killed, and that sometime thereafter his body fell here by the bay windows, breaking his skull and opening his skid. The incline here then provided all the motivation necessary for blood to flow downhill into the poor you see.”

“As to what I am doing” he continued “It’s purpose is twofold. I need a good sense of his temperature to determine time of death. And I now know it was recent. And I am looking for a bullet hole. Which, yes, here I’ve found one”

Meanwhile in the other room Blanche was almost ready to speak. Kelly continued to fan her while Sapphire, who had gotten her a glass of water that still stood untouched, looked on without amusement.

“I” she panted “I’ve never seen something so horrible in all my life. Poor poor Mr. Sable. He was such a nice young man, who could have done such a thing? Who would have done such a thing?”

“Done what thing?” Sapphire interjected. “Maybe he had a heart attack. What makes you so sure this was murder?”

The line was well delivered, even though when Saphire had first practiced it, someone had actually said the cue word “murder” instead of “such a thing” and to her dismay this was immediately jumped upon

“Murrrrda???” Blanch said with an even more exaggerated drawl than she usually presented “Why surely I never done said something like that!” Kelly piled on “She’s right. Nobody said ‘murder’ but you, it could’ve been an accident, or maybe he fell, we don’t know anything yet”

Rudy burst into the room. “No, It was murder alright” he paused for gasps that never actually came, as Auric and Dr Concord followed him into the dining room “And someone here did it! Nobody leaves this room until we figure out who it was. Doc found a bullet hole in Mr. Sable’s stomach. Someone shot him, and they will surely be looking to hide their guilt along with the murder weapon. But it’s not gonna happen. Not as long as we all stay here. If anyone leaves, we’ll know that they are going to hide the gun, because they are the killer”

“Well now that is preposterous!” Blanche shouted, forgetting her panic attack “He was wounded in the head, I saw it”

“Apparently that was Post Malone” Auric said “Post-mortem” corrected Concord.

“What the hell does he know?” Said Sapphire, eagerly joining Blanche’s side “Aren’t you like a Doctor of Philosophy of some shit?”

“I’m a Doctor of Kinesiology ma’am, and I’ll be the first to tell you that my preliminary investigation is anything but conclusive. But it is the best we have to work with in these circumstances. I cannot be sure when the contusions to the deceased’s head occurred, nor the precise time of death. Although common sense accords with my assessment that it seems to have happened recently, as we all saw Mr Sable alive at dinner this evening. And while I am certainly no mortician, I can tell you with some confidence that I know a bullet hole when I see one”

“Why didn’t we hear a shot then?” Kelly asked inquisitively

“I’m sure I don’t know the answer to that” replied the Doctor

“I do” said Auric after a beat. “I’ve done my fair share of hunting out in the bush, and more than a little target shooting too, and I can tell you that gunshots don’t sound nothing like gunshots. Especially not in enclosed places like this. No. The movies make it sound like they are bombs or fireworks or something. Real life guns are loud, but it’s more of a snapping sound, like a branch cracking. Most of you could have heard a shot from a room or two over and thought nothing of it.”

Rudy was the first to jump on this “It sure sounds like you know a lot about guns.”

“Yeah, I just said that” replied Auric” But if you are trying to intimate that I killed Sable, you’ll be disappointed to learn that I haven’t touched a gun for a week or so. You all know I came here from Australia, and they don’t take kindly to you bringing guns on the airplane”

“That’s not exactly true” Kelly snapped “I’ve seen people buy little safes to bring guns on airplanes. They have to get locked, and then you can unlock them again when you land”

“Well, I dunno what to tell ya. I don’t have one of those, they’re a pain in the ass, search my room if you want to”

"The first thing you'll notice is the sound." She said. "There will be none. Or rather, you'll think there's nothing. But that's only because you're still on this side of the world." She looked up at the white tile ceiling, gaining composure as she continued. "The closer you get to the other side, the clearer you will hear it. It won't get any louder, you'll just be able to make it out better as you move."

His blue eyes shined brighter than they ever had when he wasn't sick. He was staring up at her as she spoke, "What will I hear?" He asked.

"Everything." She responded. "Life is too big, too complicated for us to see how it works, but we can hear it. When the time is right." She gripped his hand even harder. "You'll hear about everything you've done in ways you've never thought of. All of the good you've accomplished, all of the lives you've affected, all of the changes you've contributed to the world."

He laughed, "Because that list is huge for somebody like me." He looked down at himself. She turned and shot him a deep gaze, not of anger or frustration, but one that a teacher might give their promising pupil.

"But it is." She said, "Every person you've ever given directions to on the street. Every bug you stepped around instead of on. Every hurting soul that you took the time to say 'hi' to in public, whether you knew they were hurting or not." He turned and returned her gaze, thinking about what she said.

She continued on, "The moments you took to play into a children's game, all of the customers you sold to, every person you played alongside in online games for no more than a few minutes, every question you asked in class that others were too afraid to." She could see his eyes as he thought about the words that left her mouth.

"Life isn't about the hit novel you succeeded or failed to publish, or the Supreme Court case you did or didn't argue. It's doesn't matter if you were a president or a famous director or a global philanthropist." Tears began to form in her eyes, "None of that is what matters in the end."

He began to tear up alongside her as she continued, "It's about the sweet 70-year old Grandmother looking after her grandchild who remembers the kind young man who assisted her with navigating a confusing website. It's about the old man who never forgot the adult stranger that played along with his medieval speaking game when he was just a toddler, a moment he thinks about when he plays with his own children. It's about the barista who you told had nice hair, which was the first compliment that had received in a long time, a moment that became a bright spot in their life they turned around."

"And you'll hear all of it, all at once." She spoke as her voice began to break, "It may seem like a lot, but it won't feel like it, not when it's happening." She gripped his hand even tighter as his own grip loosened, "In what feels like moments, you'll feel your mind expand as the universe thanks you for what you've done, for the moments and happiness you've created. It thanks you by showing you what you've done." She spoke through a tight throat and a stuffing nose, "It'll sound like a song as you pass along, the most beautiful song ever composed. A song that helps you find peace."

Tears were streaming down her face now as the time between beeps grew longer. Suddenly, he gripped her hand tightly. She looked up and met his gaze. Nothing else mattered but his eyes, his bright blue eyes that seemed to shine despite the lack of natural light. She could see nothing except the appreciation and thoughtfulness that sat just behind his gaze.

In that moment, nothing else mattered as he held her hand tight.

Then he spoke,

"I can hear it."

_____________________________________________________________

Author's note: I can't believe you've done this, u/katkaneki . I don't know what's happening or where you are, but I'm thinking about you. Because of you, I've written something that I am proud of and I feel grateful for. I really hope, if this isn't just a prompt, that you find what you're looking for, whatever that is. But I also hope you understand that my life is this much better because you took the time to post the prompt. I would not have written this or felt this way unless you had taken the time to post this. Thank you.

It was on Holy Saturday when my Grandmother Maite had been, what I would call anyway, cranky and out of sorts even for her. For some reason, she was not happy with the number of crows she was seeing in the neighborhood, not that I had seen any. She also said things like the spirits are angry, or the Named are hidden. Crazy stuff to me. On top of that she said she felt in her bones that something was going to happen...something bad.

It became the running theme when anyone talked to her.

I hated it when she talks like that, that amorphous 'something bad' is going to happen. I love my Abuela but she is very old school, a mix of Catholic religion and Native Chilean mysticism, and that always make me roll my eyes when she hits me with those things.

I haven't been to church in years and I have never lived in Ancud, the city our Family is from, let alone even been to Chile. I know that we come from there, as well as many of the families around us, but it never really had been something that I had strong ties to beyond knowing it was our background and that we still observe some of those traditions.

Don't get me wrong, I love some of them traditions...like the one where we throw our shoes out to see what the year will bring. Or like these big dinners., always so much good food to eat...but that is about it for me.

It really had went south when, right before the Big Meal, the last of the guests had arrived. Specifically, me and Chloé.

This big dinner had been planned for weeks. Neighbors and family had all been invited to spend the day together, help ("If you want to", my Mom always says) fix a big dinner, and celebrate the end of the Holy Week. You could come and go all day as you wanted but dinner was a 'must' for everyone involved. Mom had just said, "Be there!" to me as I had left to go pick up Chloé.

Late was also not OK!

My girlfriend, Chloé was invited because I had been dating her for a while now and the rest of the Family wanted to met her. With the exception for my sisters, none of the Family had met her even though I had been dating her for more that six months. She lived in San Fernando and I spent most of my free time over there rather than make her come over here.

Invited is really the wrong word. My Mom told me to make sure Chloé came with me; no ifs, ands, or buts this time. She was important to me and so she was to the Family as well. This is a big deal, this dinner for the Family, an important gathering and not to be missed by anyone who is truly part of the Family, she had said.

Not a big surprise to me. She always treated ever girl I dated as "The One I Am Going To Marry".

e are celebrating Holy Saturday, nd we are honouring the traditions of community with our neighbors, Mom was not going to let it go how big a deal this meal was.

My mother and father were having the dinner at our house, as they had for years, and had invited all the Family to come if they could. Many of the neighbors had also been invited and were already there as dinner approached. Some were still going in and out of our house, shuttling food from their houses to Mom and Dad's as I walked up with Chloé.

I had parked two blocks away...parking sucks in this neighborhood generally and the party was making it just that much worst.

Chloé and I were holding hands chatting about the different neighbors that were going to be there. Well, about the neighbors that were not going to be there more specifically. It was fun for me to share stories about the neighbors we don't like or things they do that are just silly or stupid.

Like the time the Álvarez's had had the police show up because Mr. Álvarez's girlfriend had shown up at the house...that had been a fight to watch.

<chuckle> Well, maybe only for me. Chloé has become a bit quieter as we approached the house. Nerves, I guess.

The front room, which is the biggest room in the house, had been converted to a dinning room for today's meal. In the window I see the tables and chairs with my Family and friends still putting out dishes of food and setting up glasses and plates. The big screen TV is showing pictures of the Vatican and statues of the Saints in an endless montage setup for the holiday.

We walked through the open door and I let everyone know we are there.

"Hey, everyone! I would like you to meet Chloé...Chloé, my Family..."

And Grandmother started screaming, "¡Kalku! ¡Kalku! ¡Oh! ¡Dios mio es el Malvado! ¡Una Kalku!" and waving her hands in warding signs at Chloé.

Suddenly people were looking around trying to figure out what is happening: at me, at Chiloé, and Grandma. Some were even looking out the window for the crows that had suddenly become very noisy for some reason. The crows outside could be heard cawing like they were on the house or just outside the door...I had not even seen them as we came up to the house. Their caws seemed very loud to me and we were inside.

But I looked over at Chloé as she is squeezes my hand painfully hard.

Are her eyes black?

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Kalku: A Chiloe and Mapuche mythological sorcerer who controls crows and contains dark magic and negative powers.

Nice one! Wholesome and a good read