• Published 30th Oct 2019
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A Deer Named John - Teapot Tales - Tael_Spinner

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MA1-C2: Master of the House


My wings held firm, there was little need to maintain my altitude with excess flapping. Why wouldn't I be good at this? I am a dragon. In any case, I would need that energy soon enough. Dragon I may be, I am still young and on the short side. A relative new flyer compared to so many others. My size and the curved backward sweep of my horns following the sides and top of my skull but never touching it brought a problem. My helmet didn't quite fit, at least not so snuggly as the others.

I peered down at the bulk of our troops. Those on the ground marched as one; yaks, minotaurs, unicorns and earth-ponies. Our King moved among them. The black roiling cloud which brushed each and every one of them. It was his right. We were his soldiers. We would lay down our lives for him.

We approached the village as blasts of magic shot into the air around us. Unicorns in golden armour stood en masse at the edge of the village, their horns aglow as they aimed at our King’s forces in the sky. We dodged their attacks, weaving this way and that. Unfortunately, my movements brought me far too close to the wing of the scarred-yellow dragon. I beat my wings to shoot away but something struck my head, hard!

My helmet jolted to the side and my head reeled from the blow. I shook my head gently as my senses slowly returned. I blinked owlishly then squinted at what I saw ahead of me. Sky? Where did it come from? Where was the cage? The dark unicorn, he…

An image of John and the others flashed into my head. Us gathered at the convention. Then another, of John alone, on a stone floor weeping. I frowned. Where were the others? My head felt so hazy. I raised a hand to press against my head to somehow physically steady my thoughts. I stopped when I saw my hand. I quickly raised the other and stared at them in a mix of amazement and horror.

Claws? Scales? These can’t be my hands!

I whipped my head from side to side, catching glimpses of so many different monsters. And below me—

My eyes bulged. There was nothing but ground as far as the eye could see. I was in the air? How was I in the air?

My helmet shifted whenever I turned my head, trying to understand everything I was seeing. What was going on?

I heard a deep growl beside me. When I looked to see what it was, my pupils shrank and my heart nearly stopped with fear. Was that a humanoid red dragon?!

It swung effortlessly in beside me. It was far bigger than me, judging from the sizes of our clawed, scaly hands. I frowned with a thought, but instantly snapped back to the world around me. The dragon was reaching for me!

I flailed, trying anything to push myself away from the scaly beast. Nothing worked. It simply reached out and snatched hold of my helmet. Its hand was so huge, I could see the tips of its fingers and the full length of its vicious claws beneath the front of the off-kilter helmet while the palm of its hand cupped the back of my helmet. With a hard shove, the beast slammed the helmet back around, catching on something on the sides of my head.

Another jolt and the world slipped away. The whispers returned. It was the voice of our King, driving us forward, keeping those on the ground in step. Those with wings held formation in the skies and I flew with them. Pegasus. Griffon. Bat pony. And I, one of only three dragons, the smallest of the lot. My size didn’t matter, nor did the races of the winged ones. What mattered were the tasks we performed for our King.

From above we watched, a sea of eyes staring down on the land. Searching, ever searching for our King’s desire. The whispers told us what he needed and we watched for our targets, ever vigilant.

We did not hesitate. We would never hesitate.

We were dragons!

It was with great pride when our trio was called upon by our nearly formless master. To break from the group and dive headlong at a target, the wind buffeting our wings and helmets, our stomachs filling with the roaring heat we would unleash upon our King’s foes.

As we dived toward the village, we spread apart for the widest strike in a single pass. It was what our King needed. It was our duty to see it through, for our King. The wind whipped at our bodies as we shot through the sky, tucking our wings, we drew back our heads to unleash our flames­—

The wind caught my helmet and my head snapped back. My body spun under then over again and again, using my head as a pivot.

I—I couldn’t see! I was falling and I was blind! Why was I falling? Where was I? Why hadn’t I hit the ground yet? The wind ripped at my body. Those strange things I felt on my back earlier, slapped at me and the air as if with a mind of their own.

Struggling against the wind, I tried to reach up and push the blockage away. It was just so hard. I was getting so dizzy the more and more I spun. My stomach swirled with me and whatever was stuck just above my rear end was acting like a dead weight, as if it was somehow trying to counteract my tumbling.

My sense of smell was so strong now, I could smell smoke. There was so much smoke, yet breathing it in didn’t cause me to cough. It was so richly scented. I tried to bring my focus back to the problem I had. I was still falling!

Whatever these things I had stuck to my body were, they were surprisingly helpful in slowing me down. The drag of the wind was just enough for me to reach up, grab hold of what felt like a helmet and pull it down. I was falling, maybe this helmet would—

“Return to your wing.” The whispers roared in my head, my helmet back in place. I looked about, seeking the other two dragons. Beneath me, half the village was ablaze, the pony inhabitants ran from the flames. And yet, my mouth remained oddly cold. Above… There they were.

I flapped my wings harder, forcing myself higher and higher. Why was I no longer at their wing? My King needed me at their wing! I brought myself into formation with the other dragons; the muscular red and the yellow with scars. He had seen hard battle for our King before I had been accepted. I would be honoured to bear such scars for our King.

The other winged ones shot past as we turned at the command of the whispers. I watched as they chased other winged ponies, two of which were quickly brought to ground. The smoky presence of our King soon engulfed them. I lost sight of them as the three of us came to settle at the edge of the burning village, down on one knee and hand to show our respect the moment our King approached.

We were to watch and wait. The forces of ground and magic rushed in to round up the fleeing. The other winged ones kept eye from above, swooping down when ordered, but we stood fast. Our King needed our fire for the next target. The village would continue to burn. Our ground and winged forces would grow as our King brought the captives to join our ranks; the enemy soldiers he placed helmets on were the most prized.

So much more strength for our King to direct.

Once all had regrouped, his cloud-like form moved amongst the ranks again, whispering to us, giving our next orders. There was no rest for our King and there would be none for his army either.

We began to move again. At his word, we would fly again. At his command we would sear land and building alike with our flaming breath. We were his dragons. We were loyal and we were ready to take to the skies once more.

My tail lashed behind me and I spread my wings as I crouched. Kicking off from the ground, leaving nothing but dust in my wake, I took to the skies with the other two dragons. Ready to serve our King again. I could never betray my King. He whispered to me. He gave me purpose. He gave me my name.

I am Cremator, the emerald dragon. All glory to my lord, the mighty King Sombra!

Author's Note:

Finally getting these organised into a group of chapters.

This wasn't an easy one to write in first person perspective with the switching between the mind controlled Cremator and William having no idea what is happening, let alone what she has become.

Simply hope that it has worked.