Shadowcast
#1 of Shadowcast
A request I wrote a bit back
In his lair, the dread dragon Shadowcast thought. He was once the greatest threat to all, possessor of the Maw of the Void, father to a flight of fiends, and the true ruler of the Nascent Empire. Then, virtuous warriors had emerged from the most unexpected and unlikely of places. Together they had shattered the Maw of the Void, slain his children and mates, and liberated the Nascents from their corrupt ruler. Though they had defeated Shadowcast, the heroes failed in actually killing him. He had escaped and fled to his unknown lair in the wastes of the Vast Despair. From there, her had worked and plotted, biding his time for the perfect opportunity to seek his revenge. This tie never came. Unfortunately, the Vast Despair was a relatively empty and hopeless place. There was not much to work with here. Shadowcast had also hoped that some of his lieutenants had survived the last clash and would come and find him. None of them ever did save for Ichsis, a doppelganger. He was not Shadowcast's favorite or most intelligent minion, but he was at least decent in spying and backstabbing. At present Ichsis was away, leaving Shadowcast alone and brooding.
"It's as if all I do is for nothing," the dragon rumbled to himself, a habit he had only picked up recently. "No matter what I do I am trapped within these wastes."
"You're right," an unfamiliar voice called close by. "Your choice is not truly yours. At least, not yet."
Shadowcast snarled and snapped his head around. Not seeing the speaker to his sides or below him, he glanced upwards. Smoke curled from his nostrils as he examined the strange apparition of an unrecognized human that floated above him. The massive dragon got to his feet, stretching his next until his great jaws could bite from the apparition if he chose.
"And who," Shadowcast boomed. "Are you?"
"I am Loki."
Shadowcast snorted. "I don't recognize the name."
"You wouldn't, but I know everything about you, Slavcinarrinaxus."
"My name," Shadowcast's eyes widened. "No one knows my name. They have always called me by that insulting title, Shadowcast."
"Like I said," Loki smiled, holding out a small object and dropping it in front of Shadowcast. "I know everything about you."
Shadowcast narrowed his eyes at the apparition. Without shifting his gaze, he picked up the object. He held it up to his eyes and saw it was a tome. There were letters of a strange language arrayed around the cover. Most surprising, however, was that the cover was painted with an image of Shadowcast.
"What is this?" Shadowcast snarled.
"A book containing some of what you've done," Loki answered. "A tome that dictated your acting without you knowing."
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is that there is another place where a man lives. He writes the lives and fate of many for a living. He calls it fiction, you call it reality."
"A scribe?"
Loki shrugged. "Of a sort. His words didn't create this world, but shaped it. He did not write all, just your downfall."
"My downfall?" "Yes, it made quite a popular young adult series. Bit overrated if I can say so myself."
"My actions have been dictated, preordained by a single man?"
"Yes, and your inaction as well. You see, the series ended. He left you alive as a setup for the sequel in case he ever went back, but that's unlikely. He's..." Loki paused. "He's moved onto different fare."
"If what you say is true," Shadowcast mused. "I should find this man and slay him, regain my choice!"
Loki chuckled. "It's not that simple. When I said another place, I meant really meant another plane of existence. A planet called Earth."
"Dirt?"
"Not the most fitting name, I agree, but that's not the point. The point is, you can't just fly to this man. Even if you went to the same point in this universe where he exists, your world would find only empty space. No, to get to him you would need my help."
"And why would I do that? I am still unaware who you really are. Your name still means nothing."
"Nothing here, but on Earth I am associated with myth. I am Loki, a...god if you will. I hold great power in my places. Normally, I would resolve this quarrel with the writer by myself, but my power is limited by someone greater on Earth. That is why I've come to you."
"A god needs my help! Ha!"
"Don't remind me. Normally I wouldn't seek aid from someone like yourself, but you've got a motivation for vengeance and an asset I require. You see, you are quite limited in your thinking. Fly out and kill him! Ha! Why not have I transport your doppelganger over, him transport the writer here for a punishment meted out by you, and then have your minion write you a happily ever after."
"Limited?" Shadowcast growled. "How was I to know this even a possibility?"
"It wasn't an insult." Loki shrugged. "Just an observation."
"Hmm," the dragon murmured. "Why Ichsis in place, I could alter this reality. He could do anything, even restore all that I have lost."
Loki nodded. "Yes, and more."
"And the scribe? What can I do to him?"
"Whatever you want, whatever your minion writes--since he'll essentially replace the writer in spirit and in skin, he'll have the unconscious connection. On Earth, he is a writer that just manages to affect your reality with his same connection. Here, he will be as malleable to words as any."
"As malleable..."
A cruel smile on Shadowcast's visage quickly became a full-mawed grin.
Ichsis had no idea what was going on and really where he was. He had returned from a recon of the Nascent Ruins to be greeted by a very happy Master and a ghost. Master had told him a great many things, of how he was to be transported to another place to replace someone else, and sorry, he wouldn't be able to return but that's okay because both he and Master would be happy forever in their altered places. The replacing wasn't confusing for Ichsis--he had done that a great many times--but the thought of a place not within this place made his head hurt. Then the ghost had spoken and told him the procedure on how he was to recognize the man Master was after, and to transport, not kill the man he was replacing and that he was to remain this new man forever. Before Ichsis could question this, Master had begun to talk very fast and excitedly of what was to happen to the man here, but not there. Afterwards, Master had spoken very slowly and asked the doppelganger to memorize a paragraph he spoke. It took several tries, but Ichsis finally got it down to where Master was satisfied. Then the ghost had waved his hand and Ichsis was no longer in the cave with Master and the ghost, but in a strange place where dozens of humans walked around, most clad in clothes the doppelganger did not recognize, though few did wear more medieval wear. They also spoke in a tongue that Ichsis somehow understood though he had never spoken it before, no doubt a consequence of his transition. A few of them commented on the genuine quality of his costume, but the uncomprehending didn't respond. He was having trouble understanding what was going on.
Before he could even come to his senses, Ichsis spotted the face of the man the ghost had described. He walked past Ichsis without a glance. He opened a door marked with the sign of man and was about to step in when Ichsis, reacting rather than thinking, followed him in. The man opened his mouth in protest as the doppelganger slammed the door shut and locked it.
"What is the meaning of this?" the man said, speaking in a funny accent compared to everyone outside. "You can't just join me in a restroom! I don't care how big a fan you are--"
Ichsis lunged forward without a sound, grabbing the man's throat. While the man struggled, the doppelganger spoke a few words of an ancient language that were stored in his memory. As soon as he said them, he felt the power of the ghost flow through him. The man disappeared without a sound, leaving only a pile of clothes and a bag behind. Ichsis searched his memory--he could no longer remember the strange words he had just said. He shrugged. Quickly taking on the man's appearance, he discarded his clothes and put on the ones the man had left behind. Afterwards, he picked up the bag--something the ghost had said was important--and walked out of the restroom.
"Mr. Orey?"
Ichsis stopped and looked into the eyes of a man clad in a blue uniform.
"Mr. Orey, are you okay?"
Ichsis nodded. "Yes, I--"
What was the word the man had said? "Restroom."
The man in blue nodded, peering over Ichsis's shoulder into the empty room. He shrugged and smiled.
"I just thought--never mind."
"I must write."
The man in blue raised an eyebrow.
"I must write," Ichsis repeated.
"Uh, of course," the man in blue said. "Follow me. The VIP quarters are this way."
The man in blue started to walk off. After a moment, he turned around and looked expectantly at Ichsis.
"Sir?"
"Yes."
Ichsis walked up to the man. The man took another step and the doppelganger actually followed. There was no more words between them as they traveled, though plenty of other humans yelled at Ichsis such confusing phrases comparing him to a rock and they adored his "stuff", whatever they may be. After a time, he and the man in blue got to an area less populated and finally, a private room.
"Here you go, sir."
Ichsis nodded in thanks. He regarded the small room and then took his place at the desk. Procuring a writing implement of some sort from the bag and a pad of parchment, Ichsis began to write.
The man appeared in the cave naked, shivering, and confused.
Leslie Orey, author of the infamous Shadow's Light young adult series, arrived in Shadowcast's lair naked, shivering, and confused. He had no idea what has just occurred or where he was. It was like a nightmare. When the writer saw a massive dragon with scales the color of night, he actually began to believe it was a nightmare. It was the only concept that made logical sense. It wasn't possible, couldn't be possible that--
"Hello," the dragon rumbled. "Do you recognize me?"
"S-shadowcast?" Orey stuttered.
The dragon snarled and took a step towards the much smaller human. He lowered his head until he was eye to eye with the writer.
"NO! I am not Shadowcast! That is not my name, it never has been my name! That is the name those heroes gave me, the name you wrote them to say!"
Frightened by the dragon, the man fled with fright.
Orey stepped back and fell onto his fear. He held up one arm as warm smoke rolled out of the dragon's nostrils onto him.
"Just a dream--no, not even that. You're just a figment, a FIGMENT!"
Orey stood up and straightened his tie. He took a bold step towards Shadowcast and pointed a finger at the dragon.
"You're not real! You're just words on paper!"
Shadowcast chuckled. "That's funny, because that's exactly what you are."
The man was shocked by these words. What could the dragon mean?
"I have the control now."
"No! I created you! I wrote you! I OWN YOU!"
Bold though the words were, they were not true.
"No," Shadowcast sneered, flicking the man away with a claw. "I own you."
The man tumbled from the blow, landing amongst a sharp outcrop of rocks. This was only the beginning of his pain.
Orey shrieked in agony as his body gained mass and musculature and its very shape began to change. Rough scales appeared in patches all over his body while his hair shed to the cave floor. He fell onto all fours and moaned as a long, thick tail grew out from the base of his spine.
The man continued to endure incredible agony while his form continued to contort and twist into a new form. Shadowcast watched with satisfaction as two wings grew out of the man's expanding back and his cranium reshaped into a more draconic skull.
Within a few more second the man completed the transformation. He looked at his new form in terror, no longer a man in more ways than one.
Orey couldn't believe it. He was a dragon, an actual dragon! He looked up to Shadowcast and whimpered. The black dragon was still much more threatening and imposing.
"You see?" Shadowcast laughed. "You are powerless!"
"No!" Orey shouted in a voice that was higher-pitched than before, almost feminine. "This is still my dream! You can't harm me!"
"I never intended to, my dear..."
Shadowcast approached the new dragon. He cowered and gaped as he noticed something emerging from Shadowcast's genital slit, a thick member that made Orey feel oddly aroused. He had certainly never written about that before...
At the sight of Shadowcast's endowment, the--
Ichsis paused. What was the word for female dragon again? He couldn't quite recall what Shadowcast had said...it was so difficult to translate it to this new language. So--
--the new she-dragon felt a new heat enter her loins.
Orey shivered with pleasure just from looking at Shadowcast's cock, even though he knew it wasn't right. His hindquarters felt moist and wrong. He looked tilted his head down and looked to the area where his genital slit should have been. Instead, she found the dripping lips of a draconic pussy.
"No," Orey said, at once realizing why her voice was higher and why she was smaller than Shadowcast. "No, no, no--"
The she-dragon's protests were no denial of what was about to happen.
"You can't, you can't--"
"Oh, but I will."
The dominant male took the submissive other.
Orey no longer resisted. Instead, she let Shadowcast mount her, squealing as he plunged his member into her moist depths. She loved every moment it while Shadowcast pounded her over and over. The writer had truly been rewritten.
Soon enough, she was filled with his fertile seed.
Shadowcast roared as he came directly into the dragoness's womb. Orey let out a much lower hiss of pleasure, but she enjoyed their copulation just as much as he.
Satisfied, the male clambered off and both the--
Ichsis paused his head. What was the word for multiple of a dragon? Was it dragoness? The doppelganger shrugged. It would do.
--both the dragoness relaxed in the wake of the afterglow.
Shadowcast nuzzled the still panting dragoness.
"See? That wasn't so baaAD!"
The black-scaled dragon shrieked as something pulled at his crotch. He glanced backwards just in time to see his still dripped member pull inwards. At the same time, he lost a considerable amount of mass so that he was now Orey's size. He fell into the same resting position as she as a new sense of pleasure overwhelmed him. Hypnotized by the bliss, he could do nothing as his cock withered and shrank with within his genital slit, while the genital slit itself shifted into a different configuration: a set of puffy wet feminine lips. By the time she recovered from the feeling of female sex that she never truly had, Shadowcast no longer possessed any male equipment of any kind, only a draconic pussy and a fertile womb.
"ICHSIS!" Shadowcast cried in her new feminine voice.
In another reality, Ichsis could not hear Master. No, he was about to write the final line, the masterstroke that would ensure Master's happiness and he would no mistakes. After all, he had figured out the word for female dragon.
The filled womb sparked new life in the dragons. It was only a matter of time before the loving dragons would lay her eggs, a new generation of shadow.
"ICHSIS!" Shadowcast shouted again. "ICH--"
Shadowcast hissed as she felt a new sticky substance line her inner walls. Then, she felt her womb grow heavy with eggs, just as the dragoness next to her.
"No..." Shadowcast whispered. "This wasn't what I told him. Female and pregnant? THIS ISN'T WHAT I TOLD HIM!"
With no response and only accompanied by another dragoness, Shadowcast was left brooding.
"Lesley?"
Ichsis looked up to see a stern man looking down at him. Before he could react, the man tore the paper out of his hands. He read it over carefully. When he neared the end, his face creased with disgust.
"Please tell me you did not write this," the man said. "That this is some sort of fanfiction some weirdo gave you, and that they're just really good at copying your handwriting."
Ichsis stayed silent, unsure how to respond. He gaped as the man crumpled up the paper and threw it into a small receptacle.
"As your editor, I can't let you write this garbage!" the man said. "I thought you were writing children's books--Baby Loki, you said."
"Baby Loki?" Ichsis repeated. Then, he realized the situation of what he had become--though he wasn't the smartest, Ichsis was cunning. He was a famous, rich person. He could write anything, whatever he wanted. After all, Master should be happy now. "No, no. I write about handsome man by name of Ichsis. Dashing rogue."
The editor raised an eyebrow. "As long as it's not as garbage as that last bit."
Ichsis smiled. "Ichsis not garbage. Ichsis gold."
Sometime later, Shadowcast lamented her fate as she pushed out another egg. The first egg had been humiliating as egglaying an action she had never thought she would have to take part in. The second had not been as bad, for the other dragoness had come back to her side to comfort her. Shadowcast usually brushed what Orey had become off with annoyance.
When Shadowcast had pushed out her last egg, she curled up next to the other dragoness, only awakening when she heard a familiar chuckle. She looked up and breathed a gout of flame at the apparition of Loki. It did nothing, of course.
"What are you upset about?" the god asked.
Shadowcast got to her feet and pointed an accusatory claw at Loki.
"I don't know what you did, but--"
"I did nothing. It was all your minion. Still, did I know he would make mistakes? Of course!"
Shadowcast seethed.
"You see, I'm not just a god. I'm a trickster god. I got what I wanted with some mischief along the way."
"Go away. I want nothing more to do with you."
"Are you sure? You know, this isn't my only form. Have you heard of the Nidhogg?"
While Shadowcast came to love the Nidhogg, Ichsis sat back in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. Lying on his desk was the first check for his new series. Even though the writing quality of Leslie Orey had decreased, people loved his new character Ichsis and that's all Ichsis really cared about. Sometimes he would wonder how Master was doing, but then his mind would be occupied with the thoughts of another adventure he could take in his writing--a bestseller for sure.