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Hephaestus. Mightiest of the dragons. Conqueror of the Court of Color and the Menagerie of Metals. He alone stood atop the realm as the ultimate ruler after defeating all who would challenge him. His days were now spent laying in the realm's greatest court and accepting tribute from the frail races to avoid his wrath. How had he managed to gain control of the kingdoms of men and monster? Age.

Age is a source of power to dragons. As dragons grow older, their wells of magic grow deeper. Consuming gold, magical items, and humanoids made this process go faster, but Hephaestus was unlike other dragons in that he was patient.

As soon as he garnered enough power to take humanoid form after his hundredth year of life, he took the form of a humble dragonborn blacksmith. For thousands of years in the age of man, he accumulated wealth and power by steady toil. As a result, none knew of his true evil draconic nature. He watched over the millennia as those who'd been born before him and since fell to the blades of revenge and greed.

And so more than a decade ago, after the death of the last ancient dragon known to the world, he made his move. With the kingdom in shambles from their taxing fight with the evil Menagerie of Metallics, he revived their armies with his presence and set them to war once more. With man now fighting an exhausted war, he struck swiftly and decisively. The Court of Color were his targets and one by one, he devoured the power of the good-aligned dragons, taking their loyal kobold armies under his command. For no kobold could resist the order of a dragon in their presence.

With a full army of loyal soldiers, he subdued the kingdom of men, taking their unconditional surrender to use them to mine his gold, make his magical items, and provide his sacrifices. He'd toiled for thousands of years in service of man as a blacksmith and it was his time to reap his rewards.

Today was a day like any other. The humongous ruby dragon laid atop his pile of gold in his feral form, taking the occasional bite to satiate his appetite. But he wanted something more. Lately, the magical weapons and artifacts offered by the court magicians had begun to taste the same. The gold was as unfulfilling as bread. The sacrifices didn't even struggle and accepted their fate. It just wasn't enough.

"Master! Master!" cried one of the kobolds in the draconic tongue as they always did when they were in his presence. The pitiful thing carried a flask in his hands and nearly broke it as he threw himself over onto his knees in fealty.

Through his magical vision, Hephaestus could see that there was magic in play in the vial. It was a relatively weak magic, however. If it were poison, it wouldn't even give him a stomachache. But the magic was transmutational in nature, which set off alarms in his mind.

The dragon huffed, his breath alone nearly causing the kobold to skid back on the floor. He normally wouldn't even bother responding to his kobolds. But he was bored and curious. "What have you there, underling?"

The kobold's face exploded in joy as he hissed, "an alchemist from the town has heard about your pla...pla...palate not being satisfied." The kobold beamed as he managed to get the complicated word to escape his maw as the alchemist had told him. "He offered me this potion as a gift for you!"

Hephaestus eyed the vial with suspicion. It had been some years since the last assassination attempt. He thought back to that lovely time and how he'd managed to burn down an entire quarter of the city as vengeance. It wouldn't be so bad if he got to do that again. "Drink some of it," he commanded.

The kobold did not even hesitate. They never could. Sitting on his knees, he uncorked the potion and took a swig by pouring it down into his mouth, not daring to allow his maw to touch the vial that his master might.

The ruby dragon shifted from his pile and transformed into his dragonborn form, walking up to the kobold so that he could better inspect him. Unlike in his days as a servant of man, he wore no clothes in this form, knowing that while he appeared humanoid, his defenses and strength remained intact. His arcane vision focused intently on the kobold, monitoring him for any changes.

The kobold returned to his prone position, not daring to look upon the humanoid form of his master.

"And? How do you feel?" Hephaestus said, raising the kobold's head up to regard him. His eyes had witnessed no change in the kobold whatsoever. If there were any magic at play here, it was so weak that its effect was not physically noticeable. Strange for a transmutation spell, but not unheard of.

The kobold then spouted a line about being magnificent for having the privilege of looking upon the splendor of the dragon, but Hephaestus disregarded it, getting the gist that the kobold was unaffected.

"Begone," he ordered, causing the kobold to flee the room as urgently as he could, wearing a beaming grin the whole way. "Hmm," he postulated, holding the potion up to the light and shrugging his shoulders, "worth a shot."

Upon gulping down the entire contents of the potion, he felt refreshed. It wasn't unlike a normal healing potion in consistency, but the taste was much more palatable. The alchemist hadn't lied that it would satisfy his tastes. But it hadn't alleviated his boredom. It wasn't a sensational taste like that of an ancient artifact or the body of a king. It was simply unique.

Sighing, he walked back to his pile of gold, intending to revert to his dragon form. Instead, as he got on all fours, he slipped on the first step, gold coins clattering to the ground as he slid onto the stone floor.

"What the?" he remarked, noticing that the gold pile suddenly looked much larger than it had before he'd intended on transforming back.

"Turn to face me," a voice said from behind him.

Normally, the dragon would not heed orders out of principle. He was quite stubborn. However, if this turned out to be an assassination attempt indeed, they'd somehow already made a fool of him once. He wouldn't be made a fool of again. He turned to face the intruder - a large specimen of a purple dragonborn. "Here to kill me, are you?" Hephaestus asked, his voice more hoarse and higher than he'd remembered.

"Not at all," the dragonborn stated, stalking closer until he was directly standing next to the ruby dragon's humanoid form.

As he approached, the dragonborn appeared more and more large. Until Hephaestus caught himself sliding back. Was this fear? He reached forth his paw to send out a devastating ray of disintegration, but he saw instead shocked him into the reality of the situation. His paw was not the bulky and muscled one of his dragonborn form but rather a skinny and seemingly weak kobold's paw. The red dragon looked upon his form, laid back on the pile of gold coins and found that he'd completely been transformed into a kobold. "What sorcery-"

"Grovel," the unknown assailant commanded.

And to his surprise, Hephaestus, lord of dragons and the most powerful entity in the world fell to his knees and began licking the dragonborn's feet, unable to stop himself from accepting the command.

"Good slave," the dragonborn said, taking his free boot and offering it to the kobold's maw so that he lapped at it next.

To his surprise, Hephaestus felt his newly reduced malehood rise from his cloaca as his precum coated the ground. He knew that this was a common reaction that kobolds had to servicing him, but he'd never expected it from himself. In the innermost depths of his mind, he was enraged, yet his conscious mind could not stop feeling the euphoria of servicing his new master.

"Enough! Behold the true form of your new master, Hermes" the man cried, stepping back from the now groveling and prostrated kobold. The purple dragonborn's form shifted as his size increased. A juvenile garnet dragon.

"A juvenile!" Hephaestus raged inwardly. "This whelp is barely old enough to transform and he seeks to control me - Hephaestus, lord of ALL dragons!?"

The purple dragon placed his paw before the kobold and without fail, Hephaestus began to scrub at the worn talons with his own, acting as a groomer for the dragon as his voice boomed out. "As you might expect, I am not powerful enough to command this kingdom as I am. Even if I defeat you, they will simply replace me. And that potion will wear off before the hour is done."

Hephaestus knew this to be true. The purple dragon might be able to consume his hoard here and his new kobold form, but he'd only gain maybe gain a thousand years or so. Not enough to challenge the races of man, certainly. Nothing beat the strength that dragons simply got from aging.

"So, my slave, I'll just be taking that strength from you," Hermes continued, revealing an orb around his throat.

"No!" Hephaestus cried inwardly, not having the power of arcane sight yet still recognizing the object. It was something he thought he'd destroyed when he breathed ancient dragonfire on the fallen Menagerie of Metallics. It was the amulet of dragonsouls, capable of transferring power from one dragon to another. The Menagerie of Metallics had used it to farm their children for power, never allowing the hatchlings to grow while exponentially increasing their power. But for dragons like himself who'd reached the upper limit of the power they'd ever receive, it was a dangerous artifact that couldn't continue existing.

Unable to break free from the inherent servitude that all kobolds had for dragons, he continued grooming his master as that amulet glowed with life. He roared and struggled in his subconscious, trying to resist the effects of it, but he was effectively a kobold and they had no natural resistances to magic, let alone against their masters.

After about a minute of this draining, he still didn't feel any weaker, but he internally felt some of his resistance draining. The wisdom and intelligence locked in his subconscious that enabled the use of powerful magics sapped away. Meanwhile, Hermes began to grow bigger, his talons threatening to crush him if he didn't adjust his positioning to groom the continually growing limbs.

Hephaestus felt himself growing smaller. Even his kobold form was being affected by this age drain now. But what didn't change was subservience. Even now as a kobold infant, he licked at the dragon's paws with his tongue.

"Hmmm. This shall do," Hermes said, his voice booming out deeply as he allowed the amulet to fall to the ground. Swiftly, he smashed it, and Hephaestus watched in dread as a cloud of arcane magic rushed out of it, defeating any chances he had of ever getting back his age.

"Now, what to do with you," the ancient purple dragon declared, picking up the infant kobold with his paws, opening his jaws wide in consideration. "Hmmm...no."

Magic surged through the garnet dragon's talon and Hephaestus felt himself take upon the form of a dragon once more. Only this time, he was as small as a hatchling and as capable.

Hephaestus roared out in a tiny squeak, flailing his paws at Hermes in anger and repressed fury from being degraded to such a degree. He tried spitting fire, a puff of black smoke barely leaving his tongue. The hatchling coughed, growling in unintelligible baby draconic speech.

"Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to have such a cute thing around. You never know when I might need a flying errand boy," Hermes said, channeling the words for a spell that Hephaestus recognized from experience. Permanent polymorph.

Shifting once more into a kobold. Sapped of even his draconic will, the kobold Hephaestus hung in the air, his life in the hands of his master, his mind forcing upon him the impression that even to be touched by his master was an honor.

Hermes roared out in a draconic command known to kobolds, causing half a dozen of them to enter the room. They didn't seem to care about the change of masters, and if they'd even registered it, they hadn't said anything. "Take this babe and put him in something appropriate for his age. Be sure to keep him safe, but teach him the way of servitude."

The kobolds spread out in a circle, catching the dropped Hephaestus and carried him with care away. Their eyes were those of admiration. For in the draconic tongue, when Hermes had said servitude, it had implied that this babe would one day become his concubine.