Roktos stood, looking up at the dragon staring him down, and whimpered. Were all dragons invincible to fire?! The black and orange scales on this dragon made it seem so. So, Roktos stood there, regretting trying to burn the dragon, shaking.
"You little punk! You think I'm gonna let you try and show me up?!" Methusela swiped up the little fire demon in his paw, the flames not doing anything to him. He was annoyed that some hell-spawn creature like this would dare try and burn him. He was insulted.
"Please don't hurt me... I didn't mean it! I-I-I..." Roktos desperately tried to worm free of the huge reptile, worried about losing his less than invulnerable head to the creature's stomach. More importantly, he was worried someone would come looking for him.
Oh gods help me, please! I beg of you! I'm sorry for my sins! I never meant to! Please! He was too terrified to shout that out loud, scared the dragon would kill him.
Earlier that day, Lucian was working at the forge under Rorik's supervision. As he worked the metal with a hammer in his talons, he noticed his friend, the fire demon Roktos, leave for the mountains. As he was tempering the limbs of his metal bow, a long running project of his, his master, Rorik, came up to him.
"You may want to go after him, Lucian. There are a few dragons in that valley, and they might not take so kindly to him. Don't worry about your bow. I'll finish tempering that limb." He said, his tone sounds less than pleased. Lucian nodded, and set the bow aside. I sure hope he's not in over his head...
Sure enough, the gryphon apprentice found his friend, cornered by a dragon. He sighed, as he was used to this. Roktos always seemed to find some way to screw up, but, so did Lucian. Many times, he'd be engraving something on a blade, or simply hammering metal, and, one slip later, he'd either have a really interesting brand on his talons, or he'd be wearing what Rorik called "The Branch".
"Roktos, what did you do this time?" He said, walking, or rather, flying over to the pair. He was getting tired of this shit. One day, it was all going to pay, he supposed...
"Gryphon. Be thankful I didn't mistake you for someone else." Methusela's voice was vicious and cold, as if they should serve him. He deserved to rule. He deserved to be a king. He deserved power over something for once.
And this demon was just the start.
"I was having a chat with our mutual friend. Give me a reason I shouldn't kill him. Make it fast. Clock's ticking." Methusela's orange eyes locked onto the gryphon, staring him down.
In his paw, Roktos remained silent, terrified of what would happen. What if the reason he gave wasn't good enough. Roktos sent a pleading look to Lucian, scared.
Who was this dragon to order him around? He certainly didn't look that old, probably only about a few months, if he was right.
"Simple. He helps around the forge my master works. While he may not seem like much of threat, the blacksmith, Rorik, was a great dragon slayer in his prime. He can still kill if need be." He said, the words rolling out of his beak like notes in a song. While the part about being a professional dragon slayer was bullshit, Rorik did know several ways to end a dragon. feeling he made his point, the teenage gryphon perched on a nearby rock, and looked further across the valley.
"Oh, and I suppose that big, angry dragon would be your friend that's flying over here?" Lucian remarked, commenting on how there was another black dragon flying down from a tall peak, with a very scolding face, it seemed. Not that he could tell whether a dragon was pissed or not...
"Veraxitoc? He may have qualms about me hurting you gryphon, but this demon is below him, he won't care." Methusela turned up and sent a roar to Veraxitoc and flapped his wings indicatively. That meant demon. That meant Veraxitoc wouldn't bat an eye at this kill.
With Veraxitoc turning away from the scene and abandoning it, Methusela returned his attention to the demon.
"Give me a reason why I should care. Why your master should care about some demon? Veraxitoc will defend my judgement to kill this wretched unholy waste of flesh. And if your master comes knocking trying to kill me, he will deal with my mother. And that is not a pretty sight..." If Methusela knew Loreiaka was his mother, he would have a worse threat, but he didn't, so his threat of an angry Seh'lvah would be enough.
Lucian sighed. This was going to drag on forever.
"My master cares about him. Is there any other reason needed? Roktos is powerless, and couldn't hurt a fly if he wanted to." He said, ruffling his feathers. He felt for some reason that he was going to need a much better explanation, but, before he could even form the word sin his head, another dragon approached, this time, though, he didn't listen to Methusela's signal.
"Methusela, why do you have this demon pinned to the ground? Was he doing anything wrong, or anything that justifies such rash behavior." It was Azuma. The ancient dragon wrapped himself around the peak of the mountain they were on, and finally noticed Lucian sitting on a rock, who simply nodded towards the trapped fire demon as his reason for being there.
"He tried to set me on fire. How's that for behaviour warranting this?" Methusela had lost all respect for Azuma, mostly because anyone related via blood to Shamgar was not his friend anymore. So he wouldn't listen to this old git anymore.
"You've not given me any good reason not to kill him gryphon, so I think the verdict is final..." Methusela pinned the demon to the ground, and raised a paw to kill his prey.
Roktos was begging for his life out loud.
"Please don't hurt me, please! I don't want to die! Oh gods please no!"
Azuma quickly caught the young dragon's claws, and in an instant, was coiled around the misbehaving youth, squeezing tightly.
"You think just because he tried to set you on fire, you can just kill him? I don't care if you love him or not, your father would have tried his hardest to prevent this! You should hold respect for all life, regardless if it be in the form of a demon, angel or gryphon!" The elder roared. He continued to squeeze, but not enough to suffocate the boy. He just wanted to teach him a lesson. Turning to the aspiring blacksmith, he started asking questions.
"Young man, why is it that you care so much for this demon?"
"Simple. He's my friend. He may be an idiot," Lucian began, glaring at Roktos, "and he might be a demon, but he's also my friend. If he's in trouble, I'll go down with him just to pull back him out."
Lucian then just hopped up from his perch, and flew over to his friend, who was utterly terrified at this point.
Methusela finally got angry, and lashed out at the old dragon, sinking his teeth in, and clawing.
"I don't have to listen to you! You are a weak old fool! My father isn't Shamgar! My father may as well be Veraxitoc! And I am sick of taking orders from you!" Methusela threw himself free of Azuma through brute strength born of anger, and flew off, seething with rage.
"Thank you... Thank you so much, I-I didn't want to die... I didn't mean to try an burn him, it just happens sometimes when I touch things, they start burning! I wasn't trying to hurt him, I was just curious as to what dragon scale felt like."
"Thank you, wise one. If I may ask, what was he on about? I thought dragons respected they're elders?" Lucian queried, with a courteous bow, spreading his wings. It was a gesture of gratitude, one which was pretty universal.
"He's a young upstart, that's all. He doesn't know his place yet. As for that last part," Azuma sighed. With Shamgar's sudden departure several weeks earlier, he hadn't been quite as cheerful, even declining a game of chess with Ajax, "Shamgar was Methusela's adoptive father. He and Seh'lvah, his former partner, got in an argument after she mistook a lost little gryphon kit for him. Later that evening, he just left without even saying goodbye to anyone."
Lucian simply nodded, and turned to his friend.
"So, you done trying to feel dragon scales, goofball?" He laughed. Goofball was one of the more playful terms he used when Roktos got in trouble of some variety. It was meant in good humor, he soon felt bad for using it, especially after what had just happened.
"Never again. I'm done, haha! But that Shamgar guy sounds like a right dick. You don't just leave a kid. No matter how upset or bad an argument is. And that guy mentioned a Veraxi-" Roktos was cut of from speaking by an even bigger dragon than the last one.
"Who mentioned me?" Veraxitoc appeared rather quietly and suddenly for a dragon of his size. It was almost as if magic had occurred.
"Ah, hello..." Lucian said, slightly awed by how quietly the dragon had appeared. He wasn't afraid, at least, not that anyone could see. The young blacksmith's apprentice then again perched on his rock while the older, wiser dragon relayed what had just happened.
"And, Veraxitoc, Im concerned. He is showing signs of some inner lust for power. Im not suggesting we confront him directly about it, but I do think we should observe him. I don't want the colony to be torn apart as quickly as it was formed." That ended Azuma's explanation. He looked over to the fire demon, as if looking for any injuries, but saw none. While he didn't necessarily like demons, he did respect them if only for the fact that they were living beings, and this have a right to share this world.
"I will keep an eye on him. He doesn't know how to handle the issue he is going through, so I will try not to be too blunt. He is volatile right now. If only we could find him one of his actual parents. That and Seh'lvah would do. It may not be a father, but he has that love again. Or feels like he does." Veraxitoc sighed.
"I apologise on behalf of my kind for what happened. It should not have happened, and I will talk with him later." Veraxitoc nodded to Roktos, who had perked up quickly.
"It's, uh, quite and experience. I'll be fine now. Just a bit burnt out."
"It's fine, sir." Lucian said, hopping off his perch and bowing. He then walked over to Roktos, and motioned for him to follow.
"It's getting late, Roktos, and I promised Rorik I'd have your ass home by sun down!" He added, laughing as he started flying down the path in his usual manner. He was a bit sad that he couldn't stick around and converse more, but he had to get back to Rorik, or else he'd be stuck scrubbing the anvil spotless for the next month!
Roktos shifted a bit, and simply began to run to catch up, being able to run pretty fast as he weighed next to nothing.
"I owe you both a great debt of gratitude, and I hope that you can help him! Maybe I will see you all again!" Then he began the long run back to Rorik's forge.
"I hope we can as well..." Veraxitoc sighed. He cared deeply for Methusela, but he was not prepared to let him turn into a tyrant.
Rorik was waiting for the two of them from his porch. He is face and neck were covered in soot from a hard day of work, but he still had the gentle smile on his face he always had.
"Well, you two look hungry. Roktos, help yourself to some of the coals from the forge. As for you, Lucian, Sigrid said she had a surprise. First, though, you may want to get washed up. You smell like something the cat dragged in!" He said with a hearty laugh as the two stepped on to the porch. Although Lucan was hungry, and slightly curious as to why there was some sort of surprise, he did as he was told, and went around to the well to wash up.
Roktos realised how hungry he actually was, and he walked straight over to the forge, and age the coals, the crunching of breaking charcoal and coal rather satisfying to him. After he felt half full, he picked up his special Daemonite plate, and put about 8 or nine coals on the plate, and went indoors to the table.
"What's the surprise Sigrid?"
Sigrid merely smiled, and walked over to the fire. Grabbing some cloths, she pulled out a large pot, not quite the size of a kettle, but it was certainly bigger than an average bowl. Right as she set it down on the table, the door opened, and in came a now washed Lucian, followed by Rorik.
"Ah, the food just came out of the fire! Sit down before it gets cold" she said, playfully hurrying them to their seats. Slowly, but surely, Sigrid lifted the lid, and revealed the contents of the container.
"You- you're joking, right?!" Lucian gasped. With a hearty laugh, Rorik patted his astonished apprentice on the back.
"No, we're not. You're a fine student, Lucian, and and even better blacksmith. Happy birthday!" He said. Lucian merely gaped at the pot. In it was a meat pie. Lamb, onions, carrots; all coated in a thick gravy and topped with a layer of mashed potatoes. It was making him drool!
Roktos was just glad he had sorted his friend out a present last night, as he had completely forgotten about his friend's birthday.
"Happy birthday Lucian! As soon as dinner is over, I will go and get you the present I made you..." Roktos smiled at his friend, and waited for him to start eating so he could eat his coals.
The coals were so appetising, he was hungry again.
Lucian was just astonished. He had completely forgot that it was his birthday!
Sigrid carefully served a hefty portion to the birthday boy, who was still in awe that they went through the trouble to do this for him. After everyone was served, minus Roktos due to him having something already, the idle chitchat began, with topics varying from Lucian's first time at the forge, to plans for the future. It was a nice dinner, to say the least. Lucian certainly felt like he belonged, even though he had been there for a few years now.
"Thank you! Thank you! I just don't know what else to say!" He said, after having his fill of meat pie. He started to think of other things, but was distracted when Roktos got up and went off somewhere. He did say he had made something....
Roktos went off to his small stone cave outside the house, where he couldn't cause fires, and fetched the item, which Rorik had helped him make in secret, and picked it up using the fireproofed gloves, taking it back inside.
Everything Roktos owned was fireproofed. It was necessary, considering he was made of fire and molten rock.
He presented the wrapped gift to Lucian.
"Happy birthday buddy."
Lucian had just finished telling a hilarious joke about a demon when Roktos had come in. He noticed his friend, and was somewhat glad he hadn't been present. Still, he looked down at the wrapped item, and, upon taking gingerly in his talons, had a puzzled look on his face. The way Roktos had wrapped it, he couldn't really tell what it was. His face pretty much said What is it?
Wrapped in the brown thin paper wrapping was a beautifully crafted set of chain armour, painstakingly forged by Roktos in his spare time, the metal moulding under the heated hands of the fire demon. It would accompany the present that Rorik had prepared for him. A full set of jet laced armour, to be worn over the daemonite chain mail.
Lucian smiled as he unwrapped his gift. Underneath the brown paper was a beautiful set of chain mail. He looked at Rpktos, then at the armor, then back to Roktos.
"Did you make this?" He asked, utterly in awe at the craftsmanship. Picking it up in his talons, he heard Rorik encouraging him to try it on, but, before he did, he felt a very painful, almost burning sensation in his hands, there was even a little bit of smoke coming off of his hands!
The chain mail dropped to the floor like a rock as the young gryphon clutched his talons, letting out a screech so loud it could be heard from across town! He had touched Daemonite before, but only when it was impure, trapped within the rock. As he gripped his hands, which only seemed to make the pain worse, Rorik opened the door, partly to let the young gryphon outside to the well, the other reason being to air out the smell of burnt feathers and flesh.
"It's not your fault, Roktos." He said, reassuringly. Looking out the window, the master blacksmith saw his wife trying to ease the pain his apprentice felt. What caused this?
Roktos put his gloves on and picked up the chain mail, before touching it against his skin.
"It's completely cold..." Roktos wondered if the gryphon was part angel.
The pain had started to subside. The water from the well he,led a great deal with that, but so did Sigrid's words. She had a way of easing his pain. As Lucian hovered by the well, he looked at his hands; burned and mangled from handling the Daemonite chain mail. He landed just for a little bit, but, as his hands touched the ground, he quickly got back in the air. They still stung, but at least he could still use them.
"Lucian, come inside. Water may well ease the pain, but burns still need proper care" It was Rorik. The master blacksmith waited at the door for his student to come in. The young gryphon complied, and, once inside the house, his master came out of the basement with some gauze.
"I just hope I can still work..." Lucian muttered. He loved working the metal, feeling the heat of the forge. But, if he had bandages on his talons, how was he supposed to work?
Roktos had zoned out and was probing the metal intensely, trying to find any impurities. It wasn't like the metal wasn't to be handled by normal beings. It was compounded by iron and steel. Why had it burned his friend?
Roktos slowly walked out of the room, angry that he couldn't figure out why this stuff burned Lucian.
When he got to his fire proof room, he just went crazy, his anger melting his gloves, and the small amount of rock on his body melting with it, turning white under the heat.
The demon only wished his emotional range would allow him to cry. Instead, where people were sad, he went into a frustrated breakdown, and started cooling down, freezing into rock, until he cheered up again.
But he wasn't sad. He as angry. The daemonite chain mail melted in his hands. He threw a punch at the wall, which hurt his hand nastily, and left a scorch mark on the wall.