FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

[center][b]Wishes

Chapter One

By: VeronicaFoxx

For: Revakulgr[/b][/center]

Being a dragon was generally considered to be a pretty nice thing. There were quite a lot of worse things to be, after all. Dragons were powerful, magical apex predators, wondrous and terrible to behold, scourge of nations and bane of races, coveted and feared, loved and loathed, worshiped and reviled. At least in most worlds. Being a dragon in a realm that had nothing but other dragons around as far as sentient races were concerned was a bit... less nice, especially when you were a comparatively young, single female dragon who was considered only middlingly competent in most magical forms, lacked pedigree enough to be considered of high status, and had little prowess at combat. She was considered rather good at transmogrification and adequate at scrying, but she otherwise neither showed enough promise to be worth further training to hone her abilities nor was of breeding worth claiming for prestige nor was of enough combative ability to earn herself a place via conquest and forced submission. Being a young, rather magically inept, dragon where age and arcane power meant prestige and respect really... was rather not nice. She very much wished for some way to make more of herself, but that was unlikely to happen for at least a few millennia and highly unlikely to occur without an absolutely excessive amount of study and practice. It was said that the biggest problem with the current generation was their lack of ethic considering hard work, but when none of that vaunted hard work would show any benefit for thousands of years yet, there was rather little motivation.

There were whispers amongst her peers of dragons who had found the way to other planes of existence and other worlds within their own, places where they could be considered powerful and magnificent and awesome, but those were mere rumor and hearsay so far as Revakulgr was concerned. She could find nothing in any available archive to indicate that such a thing had ever occurred, and the spells to perform such a feat were well above any but the most adept of the elders to enact. None of [i]them[/i] had ever traveled to another realm, or they would have been bragging about it for the rest of eternity to anyone who would listen and most who would have preferred not to. If it were even possible, it most certainly wasn't something that was going to happen to anyone young enough to find it beneficial. It was an impractical, whimsical daydream, though one that she found herself frequently indulging in. Her life as a kobold farmer was deadly dull, and it was far more entertaining to let herself sink into fantasy than to read, practice spellcraft, or perform extra chores. Of course, she also ended up having to do extra chores rather frequently due to her inattention when doing them the first time around, but it was so [i]boring[/i]! Her small charges were very lucky that they were so adorably cute, or she might have been resentful of them, but their love and affection were worth providing their care and feeding. She'd even been allowed to keep one as a special pet after much begging, ostensibly to help teach her more responsibility but mostly just to shut her up about it.

"Do you think I'm ever going to get away from here, Moxty?" she inquired of the small creature as it squirmed and wiggled beneath the petting of her foreclaws. The kobold immediately hopped up to hug her snout and chirp out a declaration of adoration in answer, which was what the little darling always did, but it was still a comfort. "I love you, too, Moxthurirl, but that's not the answer I was looking for."

She giggled at the ticklish licks the tiny male gave to her nose, then swiftly peeled Moxty off of her muzzle when she heard her mother roar out her name. The dragoness hastened to answer, trotting quickly through the caves of their lair to reach the main cavern. The matriarch stood on the ledge outside, and Revakulgr slowed to a talk, her ears and wings tucked tightly with head and tail held low, anticipatory dread filling her as she prepared for yet another lecture.

"Revaaaa-" her mother began to call once more, before noticing the dragoness approaching. The matriarch's eyes narrowed, and she assumed a more dignified tone. "Revakulgr. How [i]good[/i] of you to be so prompt, for once. Now, let's see if your [i]memory[/i] has improved at all. Do you recall your list of chores for the day?"

The young dragoness flinched, wracking her brains to recall if she had forgotten anything. "Refill the feed bins, put the males from pens one through three out for exercise, check the females from pens seven through nine and separate out those who are in season, check the breeding pens and return the males who are done to their pens."

"And after you put the males out for exercise?"

The dragoness hesitated, lost, then answered. "Check the females for season?"

The matriarch's teeth came together a scale's breadth from her nose. "Put the males back in their pens when they're done exercising!"

"Oh, right... I'm sorry, mother. I'll go gather them in..."

"Don't bother. Your brother has already done so. Why can't you be more like Vrasthinarg? [i]He[/i] doesn't half complete his chores. [i]He[/i] doesn't forget to study and practice his magic. [i]He[/i] doesn't waste his time in daydreaming. [i]He[/i] might actually [i]make[/i] something of himself if he continues to be diligent and industrious. Even Sathistra is more reliable than [i]you[/i], Revakulgr. Don't you care that you'll one day need to take care of yourself, that you'll have your own kobolds to care for and your own hatchlings to raise? If I thought that it would do anything to settle you, I'd have your sire breed you, but I'm certain that your clutch would end up starving to death while you wandered about in a wistful daze!"

The dragoness stamped a foot against the rock, snarling at the matriarch. "I would [i]not[/i] neglect my hatchlings! And I'd do a better job at raising them than [i]you[/i] have!"

Her mother clamped a foreclaw around her neck and forced her head against the ledge, fangs bared in a fierce growl. "Sethistra may have had four clutches in as many decades and with as many males, but she has at least been responsible enough to bear the burden of them. Vrasthinarg may not be a paragon of intellect, but at least he is studious. You, insolent whelp, are barely worth the time and resources it took to raise, feed, and house you. If I could stand the loss of what little labor that you [i]do[/i] provide, I would force you out to tend to yourself as best you can, which would be [i]poorly[/i]. It would also taint our line if it were known that I had allowed one of my children to die from her own neglect."

Revakulgr was released and rubbed at her throat, casting her matriarch a look that mingled anger and deep hurt. "I'm sorry, mother... I'll try to do better. I just want... I want so much [i]more[/i] than this..."

The aged dragoness heaved a heavy sigh, shaking her head. "I know, Reva, but you can't keep letting yourself drift away with impossible dreams. You need to focus on what is here and now, or you will never find the way to achieve [i]any[/i] dream. If you would at least practice the forms, you could be a poet or bard and make a name for yourself with the fictions that fill your mind, but you... Child, you need to find something to which you can dedicate yourself and actually [i]stick[/i] with it. The only thing that I've [i]ever[/i] seen you show more than a momentary and passing interest in is Moxthurirl, and it's not as if [i]he[/i] were worth much of anything. If he were a pedigree or at least well trained, you could either stud him out or take him to competition, but you never bothered to [i]train[/i] him to do anything other than toddle around after you. If I didn't know that it would hurt you more than anything else I might do, I'd sell him off with the rest of the foodstock. [i]Then[/i] we could get you a kobold that was actually worthwhile for a pet, and perhaps you could make something of that, hm?"

Revakulgr carefully lowered her haunches and curled her tail against her flank, trying to hide the little male where he stood peeking from behind the shelter of her hind limb. "I would rather we [i]not[/i] do that, mother. You know that I love my Moxty. But... if you were to... if you wanted to get him a mate, a female with a good pedigree, then... I could train [i]that[/i] one, and... Well... I guess any clutch would still be considered substandard with him as the sire..."

"Why don't you go work on your scrying, child? Weren't you having more success with those forecasting spells? If you can get those to work reliably, we may be able to get you an apprenticeship with the guild of Weather and Agriculture, which would [i]at least[/i] get you out of the nest for a while. I think it would do us both good, if that were the case. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they say, and we wouldn't be clashing horns all the time. It's something to think about, yes?"

"Yes, mother... I'll go practice..."

Moxthurirl clung to her hock and scrambled up to hide beneath her wing as she turned and padded away with her tail dragging against the stone. Magic practice was so [i]boring[/i], not to mention that scrying failures resulted in increasingly severe headaches. She'd far rather practice her transmogrification, but there wasn't a large call for that kind of magic these days. During her grandsire's time it had been all the rage, and he'd taught her as much as he could before he'd passed, much good that it did her. Having peacock plumes and rainbow scales was considered rather gaudy nowadays, though she might have made it amongst the crafting professionals if she had any interest in doing so. The death of her grandsire had soured her on the topic of furthering that particular discipline, though, as he had been the only one who ever gave her encouragement or seemed to believe that she was worth a damn. Being a weather teller wouldn't be... terrible, and it [i]would[/i] get her away from her family for a time. Forecasting was one of the few actually reliable types of magic from the foretelling school of scrying. The future was not, after all, immutable, but weather patterns were far less likely to change on the whim of one individual's choices than most other events. She didn't do nearly as poorly at it as most other types of magic, either. She could... well, she could see a very long, very dull life of telling people about the weather every single day for the rest of her existence. She'd be an absolute [i]star[/i] at social gatherings, the [i]life[/i] of the party...

She reached her sleeping chamber and flopped into her nest, grumpily kicking at the pillows that lined it until she had them arranged comfortably, letting her stomach rest against the cool stone with her rear and chest propped on the soft cushions, then opened the chest that contained her magical instruments. She actually [i]had[/i] improved with her scrying in the last decade, and her mother had been proud enough of that to procure a silver-backed looking glass for her to use instead of the metal water bowl that she'd used previously. She really shouldn't be so hard on her mother... Vethizrak [i]did[/i] care for her and wanted a good future for her, but the prospects were so very dim and the road to reach them so very long and arduous that it was difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Moxty dropped to the floor beside her and wedged himself between her forelimbs to sit with his foreclaws against the scrollwork rim of the mirror, eager to see what she would espy with her scrying. Magic of all kinds fascinated the little creature, and he was always thrilled with anything she did for him, no matter it was simply turning a twig into a flower. At least [i]someone[/i] appreciated her talents...

With a long-suffering sigh, Revakulgr began breathing exercises to bully her mind into the requisite clarity needed for scrying. That was, of course, part of the problem she had with the discipline; her mind was a very active one, always popping up new ideas, new wants and whimsies, new dreams to chase and watch die. Gritting her teeth, the dragoness shook her head firmly to put aside such thoughts and focused on the beats of her heart, the swell and collapse of her lungs, focusing her energies on a point just behind the center of her forehead, the "third eye" that allowed scrying to occur. Not all dragons were able to access the mystical mental portal that allowed it, and many of those who could preferred not to develop it past the basics required to control it rather than having it activate at random. Anyone who did serious study of the magic would inevitably attempt to scry the future, and delving too deeply into such things could and very often did lead to madness. The weather tellers were one of the few scriers who had no fear of insanity from the constant use of their future sight, and they [i]were[/i] valued members of society, if not exactly prestigious. It would be [i]something[/i] to do with her life, if nothing else.

To warm up, the dragoness first scried out her matriarch. Vethizrak was preparing dinner. She was in the food preparation chamber, chopping roots and vegetables into a large cauldron for stew. Several skinned kobold carcasses lay on the chopping board Ugh. Kobold stew. [i]Again.[/i] Well, it was better than meatloaf, at least... Next she moved her vision to her brother, and saw that Vrasthinarg was busily burying himself beneath the tail of one of the drakes again. The mindless, wingless dragonoids were used to pull and haul, beasts of burden, akin to true dragons in the same manner as kobolds, though large enough to be useful as more than food. If she were honest with herself, the dumb creature was probably the perfect mate for her dullard brother. Studious and industrious he might be, but he lacked any glimmer of imagination or curiosity. That he was able to control magical energies enough to cast a spell at all was a wonder. And he very well [i]knew[/i] that he wasn't supposed to be fucking the drakes. Their parents very much disapproved, fearing the stigma of hybrid offspring. With a mischievous grin, the dragoness reached her power through the looking glass to caress her brother's genitalia, putting a stopper between his testicles and shaft, and causing his knot to swell and lock him with the beast. He began rutting even harder, thinking that his orgasm was nearing, but Revakulgr knew that it would never come so long as her spell held. He'd spend hours locked to the drake and trying to spill his seed. She hoped that their matriarch or sire would find him like that. She hoped that she was present for his scolding and punishment, as well.

Next she moved onto a further target. Sathistra had moved into her own cavern further down the mountain range after her second clutch was born, most to appease their matriarch. Vrasthinarg was rather unfond of hatchlings that weren't her own, so the dragoness had moved out to escape the elder female's endless complaining. Unsurprisingly, Sathistra was also engaged in sexual activities, with her mate of the moment plowing her vent with wild abandon. From the look of things, it wasn't their first rutting either. Tightening the focus of the spell, Revakulgr zoomed in on the place where their bodies met and was rather impressed with the size and heft that the male sported. He had Sathistra spread so widely that the dragoness's flesh was visibly straining to contain him, and his testicles were quite heavy with still-unspent seed. Revakulgr decided to play another prank, though this one would be a bit more consequential. She reached through the mirror with her magic once more, this time sinking it into her sister's midsection. It was a misapplication of a transmogrification. Unlike what she'd done to her brother, which was causing a physical change as transmogrification was intended to do, this touched upon fertility magics. Transmogrification [i]could[/i] also be used to cause aging, or reverse the process, and focusing it onto a small area allowed for... unique possibilities. Such as causing her sister's ovaries to begin dropping eggs like it was the height of her breeding season and restoring the male's virile seed to full capacity as if he'd just begun to rut her.

A fifth clutch should show their matriarch that the wanton harlot wasn't better than Revakulgr. Sathistra had been forced to abandon a promising apprenticeship as a fire dancer due to the growth of her first clutch. Of course, that had also been Revakulgr's fault, experimenting with the spell on her most despised sibling. Before her fall from grace, Sathistra had been the golden child, vaunted as everything that Revakulgr could be if she would just [i]apply[/i] herself. It made the dragoness growl and grind her teeth. Moxthurirl glanced up at her with a commiserating chirp, and she decided that just [i]one[/i] more clutch wasn't nearly punishment enough. She twisted the spell, tying it to her sister's life force so that it would continually feed from the dragonness's very essence, constantly renewing itself. It made the alteration essentially permanently, putting her sibling into a constant and endless breeding cycle, her ovaries endlessly rejuvenated by the spell. Dropping a load of eggs every time she let a male beneath her tail should do the job, if it didn't kill her. She'd fucked her way into the apprenticeship to begin with. Revakulgr had simply ensured that she fucked herself over in the process, and every time thereafter that the dragoness became particularly irked. It was a relatively petty revenge, but Revakulgr was unable to act openly without incurring severe penalties and punishments for herself. It was enough to tie her siblings up in their own troubles, though, which would distract their mother from further berating Revakulgr, which was the point.

Relaxed by the torments she had heaped upon her siblings, the dragoness cast her mind towards the far ends of the world, letting her vision roam as it would, more testing her reach than anything. Scrying worked best with people and places that one was familiar with, but the greatest of seers could discern things all the way on the other side of the world, and some could even peer into other realms entirely. Now [i]that[/i] was something worth working towards. Even if she couldn't visit them, being able to see them, to know that other things existed in other realities, would at least assuage the ache in her heart for something different. The problem was that the magical veil that separated their realm from others was quite thick and nearly impossible to pierce. It took an excess of power just to pull anything physical into their realm or send anything from theirs to another. Though scrying through the veil was easier by far, it was still quite a difficult achievement. It was the only reason that they knew other realms existed and that dragons could be found in some of them, which she suspected had spawned those rumors that her peers spread and clung to. She thought that-

Her eyes flew wide as something entirely unexpected crossed her vision. It was all a blur without her guidance directing it, but she had seen... [i]something[/i] that didn't belong. It was not the hazy green and brown and gold of forests and mountains and fields, nor the color of any scales she knew. She pulled her will together and concentrated, attempting to track back her own spell trail, which was a difficult feat of scrying in and of itself. The difficulty was greatly diminished since she'd both cast the spell and was currently maintaining it. Attempting to trace the spell of another caster to its source was something that only the great investigators were capable of. As the scene displayed in the mirror shifted, she brought it to a halt at the sight of something that stood out clearly within the hazy image. It was like lightning, forked and twisted and jagged, but inverted somehow. She brought the vision closer to it, never having heard of such a thing as this before, neither in tales nor in tomes nor in histories. It pulsed with power, power that she could [i]feel[/i] even through the scrying spell, and a low, droning hum filled her ears. She was fascinated, pushing the far sight closer and closer to the... rupture, was the best thing she could think to call it. It was as if someone had taken a cleaver to the weft and weave of reality, rending a tear that peered into the abyss between realms, and she felt a compulsion to peer through it. Closer, closer, closer...

A wave of cold heat washed over her, and she heard Moxty let out a distressed trill. He gripped at her forelimb tightly as she fell, the universe tilting at an oblique angle, falling through the looking glass, falling through the rent in existence, falling... falling... but no longer falling. She was flying. Or swimming. Or being pulled. She wasn't certain. There was a definite sensation of movement, of momentum, of a great rushing forward towards whatever unknown lay on the other side of the schism. She saw a point of light, a bare pinprick that swiftly began to expand, a star, a snowflake, a shattered pane of obsidian through which the sun shown. She was going to hit it! Whatever it was, it did [i]not[/i] seem conducive to good health and continued life to strike it, and she attempted to backwing against the pull or flow or pressure, but to no avail. It continued to grow. Fast, faster than she could fly even in a stoop from the heights, she saw it rushing towards her, and she cringed as it drew near, anticipating the worst. The force of impact was worse than when she'd broken her wing while trying to learn to fly, a crushing blow that left her breathless, stunned, and bruised clear through to her spine. She had only barely enough sense left in her to tuck her wings tightly against her sides and cup her forelimbs against her keel to protect Moxthurirl, then she hit hard ground, rolling only for a split second before fetching up against a wall of some kind.

Her head spun, her eyes refusing to focus. She [i]ached[/i] from nose to tail tip, feeling as if muscle and organ and bone had been ground up and liquified before being poured back into her. Each and every individual [i]scale[/i] ached. She could see dim light filtering between cracks. There was the creak of metal, a scuff of something against the ground. Breathing, heavy, something alive. She tried to roll herself onto her feet, and flopped back to her side with a groan. There was no way that she could do anything in this kind of state. She focused, shutting out everything, forcing the pain away, pulling her thoughts into the center of her mind where there still remained the clarity, if just barely, to draw upon her power. She formed the correct components within her imagination and held them cemented, pushing her magic through the form to release its energy across her body. She felt the soothing warmth seep through her, a minor healing spell, but the best that she could manage, enough to seal a cut and restore some lost blood, but she needed far more than that. She pushed her power through the form again, then again, and again once more. With each application, she felt a little better, the deep-seated hurt beginning pulling outwards towards the surface until it was no worse than a hard cuff from her sire, though it still spread across the entirety of her body. Still, she needed to reserve some of her magic for defense in case whatever creature she found herself with was hostile.

She opened her eyes, blinking as her sight cleared and crisped, focusing on the source of the breathing. It appeared to be a biped of some kind, about twice the height of her Moxthurirl if it were standing, with pale, moist skin and silvery-white fur atop its head. It wore clothing, from what she could see, some kind of cloth over its body and leather covering its feet. It slumped on its knees with an air of exhaustion, staring at her. Moxty stood just past the end of her nose in a defensive posture, his teeth curled back from his fangs and his foreclaws raised, but he wasn't being actively hostile, so the creature must not have made any move towards her. She curled her own lips and wrinkled her nose as scent began to filter in, a musky odor, unpleasant, a mammal smell. Feh. Mammals, she should have known from its appearance. The place also smelled of dust and dirt, residual oil, with small animal scents mingled, a redolence of disuse. With the pain having been brought to manageable levels, she pulled her limbs beneath her and stood. She was shaky, but standing, and the creature was still staring at her with its mouth open as it continued to pant heavily. She could sense an energy about it, magical power, but weak, far too weak to have created whatever had pulled her here. She formed the spell for true seeing, and her vision clarified, brightened, showing the jagged lines of the shatter-shape that she had crashed into crackling in the air in front of the being, its power pulsing bright and strong, enough to hide the creature behind its force.

She released the spell and craned her head to peer at the small mammalian thing as it gaped, then reared back when it spoke at her. "Dragon... you... you're a dragon. It sent... it sent me a [i]dragon[/i]! I've... I've never summoned... something like you before..."

They were words, yes, but in a language she had no knowledge of, yet the understanding came clearly. She quirked her head in curiosity, intrigued, then blinked as what it had said sank in. "Summoned? You have the ability to summon beings from other realms? How? The veil is too strong for that, far too strong for someone of your ability. You've barely a spark about you!"

The creature smiled, a wide grin spreading across its flat face, and it gestured to the floor before it. A large circle had been painted, surrounded by runes that she did not recognize, with various items placed atop each of the runes. A ritual? It seemed likely. Such things were time consuming and costly of energy, but they [i]could[/i] allow a caster to perform spells that required more power than their natural ability provided. They were an archaic form, rarely practiced by her kind, and heavily frowned upon. If one were not able to cast a spell without assistance or props, then one did not deserve to cast the spell, or so was their thinking. It was something that she had considered, but the shame of discovery would have been too much for even she to bear, and she would have been barred from [i]any[/i] profession that required magic even if her power were not stripped from her for the affront.

"I've summoned demons, elementals, an angel once, and a few different kinds of creatures, but never a [i]dragon[/i] before," the being continued. "I guess I wasn't specific enough, but I guess you'll do for what I want. I can sense the magic in you. It's... enormous!"

"What [i]do[/i] you want with me, small mammal?"

"Just one thing. A wish. I asked for something that could grant my wish, my greatest desire. That's all you have to do for me, and I'll send you back where you came from."

"No!" she protested, stamping her forepaw against the ground in sudden desperation, but the creature twisted a hand through the air, and she found herself writhing in sudden agony. "Stop! Please! Stop!"

The pain faded, and the being's expression had hardened. "You [i]have[/i] to do what I want. You don't have a choice."

She gave herself true seeing once more and traced a golden line from her throat to its clenched fist, a... leash of some kind, connecting them, and this summoner held control. "I... I can't just... [i]grant[/i] wishes! I'm not a deity or even a very strong mage! I... I'll do what I can, but I'm... I'm barely even an adult!"

"But... but the spell [i]never[/i] fails... It's worked every other time, at least. I told it to bring me someone who could grant my wish, and it sent me you, so... You must be able to do it."

"What is this wish, then, creature? What is it you desire so badly as to pull me through the nothingness between realms?"

"I'm a human, by the way. My name's Axel. And what I want is... I want a... mate, I guess you'd call it. I want the [i]perfect[/i] mate. I'm immortal, or as close to it as a human can be. I've been alive for over a hundred years thanks to my magic, even if I am a bit of a one trick pony. I've sown my wild oats, and I'm ready to settle down. I want someone that I can share my life with, someone to love and to love me. I'm tired of being alone. I want someone young and fertile, so we can have children. I want to pass on what I know to someone, so that if maybe I'm not quite as immortal as I think, then at least what I've learned won't be lost. There isn't a lot of magic in this world, so it would be good to have someone to share that with."

Revakulgr blinked, considering the... human's request. A mate. A [i]perfect[/i] mate. Well, that was a [b]big[/b] wish, assuredly. Perfection was attainable only at great expense, no matter what it was demanded from. But... Hm. She must do as the human asked, but it had not been extremely specific aside from the request for a perfect mate. She need not summon or create one, both of which were beyond her power, but... Yes, yes, that would work. She could do that. It would fulfill the first requirement nicely, for perfection could be easily held within the eye of the beholder. Young and fertile, yes, certainly, and offspring would be a certainty. The last requirement, someone to pass on its knowledge to, yes, that was also very easily done, simplicity itself with how weak in the power the creature was.

"I can do as you ask... but I will need a bit of your essence. Blood will suffice. And I would make a request in return before I fulfill yours. An exchange. Is that not fair?"

The human considered her for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, what do you want?"

"I want to remain here. Do not return me to my realm. I want to know and explore this new world. If there is little magic in this realm, then would it not be of benefit to have one such as myself to provide more of the power?"

"Hmmmm... Yeah. Okay, I think I can live with that. Alright. I'll keep you around, for now at least, but you'd better behave. Remember that you have to listen to me and do what I tell you. If you do anything I don't like, I throw you right back where you came from."

She nodded her agreement, and the human held out its free hand towards her. A quick prick of a claw drew the requisite blood, and she formed the components of her intended spells within her mind. It was a calculated risk but necessary. The human had not wished specifically for a mate of its own kind, and it had made no specifications about altering [i]it[/i] to be the perfect mate for something else, either. A transmogrification to change its shape, a spell of desire to ensure the mate she offered was considered perfect enough to qualify, a slight fertility spell to get those children begun, and memory theft to pass on the knowledge it possessed, though not to its future offspring. No, the dragoness would be taking that for herself.

"You will need to release your hold on me, at least temporarily," she lied. "It is restraining my power with your will tethering me so tightly. I cannot cast the appropriate spells."

It narrowed its eyes at her, rubbing at its chin, then slowly bent down to put the end of the glowing, golden leash on the floor. As soon as it released its hold, she struck. She struck at the creature's mind first, sucking out all thoughts save animal instinct, the basest needs and desires that allowed it to operate and survive, stealing away everything that... [i]he[/i] was and had been, leaving only an empty shell. Interesting. The human had been male, though that was no obstacle. Next came the transmogrification, warping the flesh, changing him, shrinking him, skin becoming scale as his... hair fell to the ground, shrinking and shrivelling within clothing that swiftly became far too large. The newly wrought kobold thrashed and clawed her way free, panting with fear, though when her eyes fastened upon the dragoness and nostrils flared to pull in her scent, the kobold began to calm. Moxthurirl dropped to all fours and scurried forward to sniff eagerly at the female, his chubby tail wagging furiously as he examined his new friend. The love spell struck as Axel looked down at her pet, and she immediately dropped down to sniff and nuzzle at him, licking his cheek affectionately. Lastly, Revakulgr forced her power into the transformed female, forcing the breeding cycle to start. Moxty immediately caught the scent and swiftly rammed his nose beneath Axel's tail. The female was not at all opposed to his advances, and hiked her hind quarters for his inspection. It was only a moment more before he had mounted her and was seeking to sow the first generation of their offspring.

The dragoness grinned at her own cleverness, pulling from the human's memories to find the proper forms and components, shattering the control spell that had leashed her. She was... free. She was free and she was somewhere new, somewhere with little magic, somewhere that [i]she[/i] was [i]powerful[/i]. As the kobolds bred, she settled herself down to review the newly acquired knowledge that filled her mind, filtering the memories into those that were useful and those that were not. It was a strange world. With little magic, or at least few who could wield it, they had been forced to develop technology, machines, to simplify and increase the quality of their lives. Humans were the dominant species on this world, though only by dint of intelligence. There were animals far stronger and more agile than they, but they had mostly tamed the planet to their will, much as her own kind had done. There were many things that they were still unable to do, even with the advancements that had come in ever more rapid succession, but they greatly since the time of the human's birth. Food was plentiful, at least in the place she now existed, and there was much to be gained through cleverness and exploitation. Riches existed for the taking for those who could offer service or product that others would desire, and she had much to offer that could not be gained via other means in this realm.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Axel," she told the female kobold, who perked up her ears at the sound of her name, chirping happily. "I think I shall quite enjoy this realm. Humans are small, frail things, and with so little magical power in the world, I can quite easily become supreme, should I so desire. First, though, I think I shall need to develop a... power base? Yes. I shall need to become a... heh, a supervillain? What an odd combination of thoughts. Your memories are quite helpful. I will use them well. Your knowledge shall not be wasted, and I can see now the use of rituals. I can understand why they were banned by my people. It allows for those like yourself, like I was in my realm, to access far more power than should be possible and perform feats well beyond their ken, though I suspect it was couched in terms of safety when it was implemented. Hm. I shall need... minions, yes. Servants. And... hm... [i]that's[/i] an interesting spell. I think I can use that. Yes, it will require some alteration, but I believe it can be modified to suit my desires. Yes. I think this is going to be quite a wonderful adventure, Axel."

The female chirped again then let out a soft moan as Moxthurirl's hips drove against her harder. Revakulgr grinned when he let out a victorious trill, resting for a moment before turning to twine his tail with his new mate's. Yes, this was going to be quite a wonderful adventure, exploring and subjugating this new world, growing herself an empire. This was the "something more" that she had been dreaming of for so long.

[center][b]The End[/b][/center]