>Day six of your expedition on the Eastern Fringe of the Gryphon Lands
>Reports from the locals had indicated anomalous quakes happening in the area, accompanied by strange wailing
>They had put it down to the spirits of their dead mourning some great calamity to come, but pah!
>You were a pony, and a scientist at that!
>These backwards tribesmen probably still thought the sun and moon moved of their own accord, based on some everlasting hunt, like a dog chasing its tail
>In their defence, they'd never been to a Summer Sun Celebration to see the princess raise the sun, but still
>But you had been, and you knew far better than to crumble to superstition at the slightest sign of strange circumstances
>So here you were, with a team of ponies, trying to locate where these tremors and noises were coming from
>The gryphon leaders had requested the aid of Princess Celestia, knowing of the superiority of Equestrian technology no doubt, and she had sent in your team
>So here you were, in the backwater of the Gryphon Lands, looking for  the perfectly natural cause of whatever was screeching and shaking the ground
>Of course, sometimes what you were looking for came and found you
>Like in this case
>A hydra, truly a magnificent specimen, easily twenty meters tall, was staring you down like a purple unicorn reading a book
>Kind of a weird metaphor, but if you knew this pony...
>It screeches in a terrible wail, eerily similar to what you'd imagine Tartarus sounds like, and slowly stalks up on you, tongues flicking from its mouths
>And then the rumbling starts
-
>You are Anonymous
>Man, your parents had been either real jerks or else your dad had wanted you to get beaten up a ton in school to "build character"
>Seriously, your birth certificate actually had you named "Anonymous Incognito Yngir"
>Well one out of three wasn't so bad, even if that one was Finnish
>But forsaking the conundrum of the terrible parentage of your childhood, there was a more pressing matter at hand
>Something was screeching in a tone that would usually make your ears bleed, but seemed dulled for whatever reason
>Not to mention the constant, dull thumping on your side
>Maybe there was a particularly bad car accident outside, and your cat was hungry
>Well you can settle at least one of those things
>You rise out of bed, the covers feeling bizarrely heavy on your body
>The warm sun hits your body and you let out a yawn, stretching up your arms to work out any kinks
>Twisting your neck sideways and popping the cartilage and finally open your eyes
>The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the grass is green...
>The grass? You lived inside, not in the park like a dirty hobo
>You look down, and the sight overloads your brain till all that's left is a shrieking beast
-
>You are Tremble, an Equestrian seismologist on an expedition to the Gryphon Lands
>And you were stilled in fear and awe of the sight before you
>Behind that hydra that was about to devour you, a large hill began to move
>Grass, dirt, rocks, and large trees fell away from what lay beneath the mound
>A head with heavy brows of bone and scale topped with a majestic crown of horns
>The neck and body followed the beast, scales shimmering dully, like a burnished shield
>Down the monsters neck ran a series of fan-like spines, serrated and wicked looking
>Its forelegs stretched out to the heavens, its wings following suit and painting a shadow across the valley
>Its eyes opened, gleaming sapphires amid a bronze ocean, blazing with intelligence and will
>The behemoth yawned, its maw gaping and showing a fearsome mouth filled with sapling sized teeth
>It looked down, seeming to regard itself for a moment, as though taking in its own majesty
>Then that fearsome jaw opened once more and loosed a roar that turned your bones to gelatin and forced you to the ground from sheer force
>Your last vision is of the hydra turning towards this new challenger and shrieking in defiance, before all fades away
-
->You are Anonymous, and you are, beyond the shadow of a doubt, dreaming
>After all, you don't have scales or claws
>You don't stand a hundred meters tall, or have a roar somewhere between Godzilla and Satan
>Yes, a dream is the only logical explanation
>A pinch on your scaly leg only results in a shooting sensation of pain and the feeling of torn flesh
>Another bellow, this one of surprised injury
>Dammit, just what in the hells was all this anyway?
>But as you try and think of what exactly could possibly have brought you here, a ball of flame explodes against your face, or snout now
>You feel a warming sensation, and the reek of soot in your nose, but are otherwise unharmed as you seek for what did that
>Your new eyes fall upon a seemingly miniscule, multi headed creature, the source of the shrieking you had heard earlier, if its current noise was any indication
>As you stare at it, something awakens inside your mind
>This insignificant cretin barely able to conjure fire dared to waken and then attack you?
>A smouldering flicker of annoyance fans itself into a flame of anger and you take a swipe at the minute beast with a gigantic claw
>The hydra hops nimbly aside, or perhaps you were just too slow
>Either way, the tongue of flame in your heart blazes into a white-hot inferno of rage
>A raging blast of noise echoes from your maw at your opponent as your other claw, balled into a fist comes down on top of it
>You barely feel the impact, but there's little doubt that the hydra does
>The fist, smaller than the hydra but driven with considerable weight behind it, does the job and crushes two of its three head beneath its might
>The heavily wounded, draconic creature screeches in pain from its undamaged mouth and flees as fast as it stumpy legs can carry it
>The fire in your heart burns brighter and you release a resounding bellow of domination and victory that shakes the very walls of the valley you have been brought to
>As the adrenaline dies though, the fear and uncertainty comes creeping back in
>You peruse your surroundings once more, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of this new land
>Your gaze travels downwards and...oh shit
>You lean in and take a closer look at the pastel speck on the ground bellow and, yep that's a pony
>Well, the where has been answered already
>You're in fucking Equestria
-
>Your gentler nature takes over as you stare longer at the yellow mare lain in the dirt
>Maybe she needs help, and there's a good chance she may be hurt
>With as much gentleness as you can muster, given your unfamiliarity with this new body, you pluck the pony from the peat and cup her in the palm of your bus sized hand
>Your eyes search the area and, after a moment, you spot what you sought
>A trail of smoke rises into the air, perhaps a kilometer or less away from where you now stand
>One of your wings, involuntarily twitching forward and smacking your head, or more accurately something protruding from it
>Best not to use those, no idea how well you'd fair on your first flight, especially carrying precious cargo
>So instead you stand as comfortably upright as you can, still hunched forward because of the wings and how it all is balancing on two legs, and take of at a rather brisk pace
>You cover the distance in little over three minutes
>Of course, once you arrive to the source, a small village of perhaps twenty buildings, there's not a soul in sight
>Obviously they had been frightened by the massive quaking your tread had no doubt caused, nevermind the terrifying noise you had produced
>But this was no time for fear, there was a possibly injured pony in need of aid!
>You choose the most obvious public building you can see, a stark white, two level structure with strange runes on it and a winged heart
>Heart means good right? Of course it does, it's a world filled with pastel ponies!
>Using your unoccupied claw, you punch a hole in the upper level of the structure, revealing...
>Some gryphons?
>Huh, so you weren't in Equestria proper, or if you were then catbirds had taken up residence in it
>One of the group is a clearly older bird, draped in all manner of coloured fabrics
>Probably some kind of elder, she'd know what to do for sure
>Making a slow blink at the group, trying to show you weren't about to eat them or steal their maidens and gold, you bring the claw holding the pony against the building, opened so they can take her
>A pair of younger gryphons scamper over your scaly digits and pick up the prone pony and rush her inside to the building
>You take a look back inside to ensure they weren't about to eat her or anything, after all half-hawk half-lions had to be predatory, right?
>The dressed up elder falls onto her face, prostrating before you with her claws splayed out to her sides
>Slowly, but surely, the rest of her number follow suit, even the youths that had grabbed the pony deposit her on a nearby bed and join in
>As weirded out as you are by the display, it makes you feel...good
>As though something in your chest has had a small weight taken off it
>With another slow blink, you pull away from the building and carefully stomp your way out of the hamlet
>You fall onto all fours as soon as you pass the outskirts, it's much easier to balance like this
>With a great deal of concentration, you fold your wings to your sides and walk back to where you had awoken
>The precise spot you'd stood up in was a crater, a brown blot in the otherwise pristine clearing
>Turning back, you see both trails of destruction you'd left in your wake
>The first, because you'd been dragging your tail to keep you from falling backwards, was a skid mark that left broken trees and overturned dirt in the wake
>The second was much less obvious, but many trees no longer possessed tips
>A heaviness falls over your mind
>The actions, few as they had been, certainly had drained your energy for the time being
>Most likely was that, given your current size, your body burned off calories faster than a sprinter in a leather gimp suit
>With the pleasant thought of a black clad Usain Bolt streaking through your mind, you lay down in the crater your awakening had created
>At least the churned earth was fairly comfy, and it was still warm enough to not bother you
>With the promise to your brain that you'll figure everything out tomorrow, your eyelids fall shut, only to open once more when your dreams end
-
>An eager, constant hum pulls you out of your fitful slumber
>Your eyes open to take in a stark white stucco ceiling above you
>Well that's certainly strange, the last thing you remember...
>That monster, looming so high above the trees, the one that seemed to tear itself from the very soil of the land
>That horrifying bellow that had flattened you and made you fai-- knocked you out
>You blink your eyes a few times, clearing away the feeling of sleep, and look around for the source of the noise
>Surrounding your bed is a group of gryphons, or a flock, a nest? You weren't a faunologist
>But an elder in bright robes is clearly in control of the mostly younger group of them
>As soon as she sees you blink away the cobwebs in your head, she speaks up in a raspy, yet firm, voice
>And of course, you don't understand a word she says
>Fortunately, one of the younger gryphons begins translating immediately for you
>"She asks how your sleep was, vorð."
>You sit yourself up, slowly, and rest against the wall behind your bed
>No backboard, and the stark white of the walls, plain sheets
>You must have been in a hospital, evidently still in the gryphon lan--
"Wait, what did you call me?"
>The young gryphon lowers his head to you
>"Vorð, ma'am."
>You shake your head, eliciting a twinge of pain from the base of your neck
"No, I mean I know what you called me. But I'm not your wife, what are you talking about?"
>He frowns and speaks in his native tongue, which you mostly understood though they spoke too rapidly for your pained mind to keep up, to the elder
>She responds in a slightly more impatient tone than before, and the young one lowers his head further
>"Please excuse me, I was contracting the word. Elder Yngvir did not know your name, and so called you 'drekivorð'."
>Another spike of pain in your head, and you bolt upright
"Dragon wife? Just what in Tartarus are you saying?"
>The young gryphon opens his beak to speak again, but the elder puts a talon on his shoulder and silences him, before speaking in a heavily accented Equestrian
>"The Great Dragon brought you to this place. He carried you with a gentleness unknown of dragons to us. That means you hold a place in his heart."
>With her last words she prods your chest with a talon
>Your hoof touches where she had poked you, and her words sink in
>That monster that had knocked you out with just its roar...saved you?
>It's both strangely heartwarming, and equally terrifying
>And yet, the curious filly in you raved ever louder
>You needed to go back and see it
"Where did this "great dragon" go?"
>The old gryphon smiles and places her claw on the young translators shoulder
>"My second-son, Svardr, will help you trail him."
>He turns to the elder and begins bickering with her, apparently not happy being tasked with escorting the outsider
>It gives you some time to think though
>What did it mean that a monster like a dragon not only didn't kill you, but brought you to a hospital?
>The weight was sinking in, giving you a sense of dreadful excitement
>As soon as you got out of this bed, you were going dragon hunting
-
>Your vision is watery, it's hard to breathe
>A burst of bubbles floats in front of your face, and you notice a spiderweb of cracks in front of you
>A tightness about your chest eases as you feel a strap dig into your palms, painfully
>Your sight shifts to the right and you can barely make out a blurry, limp figure beside you
>Another burst of bubbles and a muffled noise of pain
>Slowly, the sight darkens and eventually disappears altogether
>You smell smoke and feel a small amount of heat near your face
>Or snout, you suppose
>You open your eyes and are greeted by the blazing, midday sun and the sight of a pony and gryphon sitting by a fire
>The pony, apparently having been subtly watching you, gasps and backpedals rapidly
>The catbird, probably barely just hatched if his size was anything to go by, immediately prostrated himself
>Slowly, you lift your head and move it forward towards the gryphon
>You honestly try your best to speak, to say anything
>But the only thing that escapes your maw is a low, tortured moan
>The pony approaches you, quite timidly, or maybe assuming you spook easily
>"Excuse me, ehm, dragon. I just wanted to thank you for saving me from that hydra. I'd have been dead if it weren't for you."
>You arch your neck towards her and do a slow blink to acknowledge that you understand
>She slows her speech considerably, perhaps trying to word it in such a way that doesn't sound like she's dissapointed
>"So...why didn't you eat me?"
>You recoil at her suggestion, a hiss emenating from your open mouth
>Eating a sentient creature, what kind of monster did they take you for?
>Well, a dragon for one
>And while you certainly had no objections to eating meat, the idea of chowing down on a speaking, thinking creature was abhorrent
>The pony jumps backwards and squeaks, covering her head with her hooves
>You move your snout towards her slowly and nudge her as gently as possible
>She seems to get your message and stands back up, staring into your eyes, her knees shaking
>You lower the tip of your snout towards her
>Her trembling hoof reaches out towards you
>You gently push your muzzle against her outstretched limb and do your best approximate noise of acceptance
>Visions of a young man fishing from the moon whiz through your head as you pull back and snort gently
>You look over at the gryphon, who's jaw is agape at the oddity of the scene
>The pony takes a step back and stares up at you, seemingly regaining her courage
>"My name is Tremble, and I guess you're my friend."
-
>The walk back to town seems to take forever
>At least to you, it could have something to do with the fact that the two creatures you were travelling with took about thirty steps to one of yours
>But you didn't mind, it gave you a chance to think
>You were astonished by the fact that the pony you'd save, Tremble wasn't it, had come back
>Not only that but she wanted to befriend you?
>Jeez, maybe this place was a bit too cavity-inducing sweet after all
>But what exactly were you supposed to do with a body like this?
>You couldn't talk, as far as you knew, you hadn't eaten yet and only the gods knew how much you'd need
>It was a frightening situation, to put it mildy
>"The village is just ahead!"
>Tremor's excited shouts rouse you from your dreary train of thought
>You see that you are indeed just outside the village, and what's more, there's a reception waiting for you
>As the pair below you emerge from the foliage, shouting excitedly in a language you don't understand, you stand high above the treetops, gazing down in a way you hope comes off as regal
>You see a number of the group fall to their knees and...are they crying?
>A part of you feels legitimately bad and, before you can stop yourself, you've leaned your head down and brushed your snout over the individuals foreheads
>The murmuring of the crowd immediately ceases as you withdraw, keeping your head nearer to the ground
>A hatchling, barely tall enough to reach your chin, reached up a claw and placed it on your scaley jaw
>You make a low rumble in your throat, almost like a cats purr
>The wonder and amazement coming from the child is damn near palpable, and excitement quickly spreads through the crowd
>They approach in a gaggle, some timidly reaching, others eagerly laying hands on you, all babbling in a tongue you can't understand
>But basking in the adoration and worship of so many certainly makes you feel good
>Hell, better than good, you feel incredible, almost as though you deserve every bit they're giving
>And why don't you? You're a motherfucking dragon!
>You sigh contentedly, happy to enjoy the reverence until everyone gets over the novelty
>Then the sun is darkened by a bat-winged shadow overhead
-
>Your neck snaps skyward before you even think, reacting on ingrained instinct
>Not yours, but instinct to be sure
>You can't believe what you're looking at, magical talking horsie land or no, this was insane
>A massive, chiroptera-like creature whips overhead, chittering and snarling as it lays eyes on you
>It performs and impossible looking turn, then lands in the forest just outside the village
>The hideous creature, nearly as large as you, roars out a challenge, bombarding you with some kind of weaponized sound
>You cringe away from the noise before trumpeting out your own, challenging bellow
>Some hind part of your brain yells at you to get out of the town so you don't crush anyone underfoot, but your blood is up
>On all fours you stalk forward, lips curled back and teeth on display, a constant growl echoing from your throat
>The batwinged behemoth hisses at you and bares its own, massive fangs, daring you to come near
>You finally realize you're not fully in control of what you're doing, almost like you're in a command seat on a ship, just ordering it what to do and seeing it happen
>It's kind of neat, though mostly terrifying because if you weren't in control...
>What was?
-
>No time for that now, the chiropteran beast started charging at you
>A strange gait, likely coming from its body not being naturally quadrupedal
>Though given its mass, the charge didn't need to be a fast one to carry crushing force
>You lower your head and rear back, of your forelegs slightly, before pushing yourself down and butting the hideous monsters skull
>While you can certainly feel the impact, and no little amount of pain, the effect on the creature is nothing short of devastating
>You can hear the skull crunch from the impact, and its screech of pain nearly deafens you
>But it's down, and dying
>But not dead, not yet
>You lean in, maw agape, and close in on the chiroptera's neck
>It squeals, each time beginning anew in a high pitch until it goes beyond your range of noise
>Then your jaws snap shut, crushing and tearing its neck, and the monster goes silent
>You bellow out another roar of triumph, snout crimson with the gore of your victory
>If you could chuckle, you would, that think would never have given Godzilla a run for his money
>Heck, you doubt it could have come close to even Mothra, given that you killed it without knowing how to even use your wings
>You snarl one more time at the gigantic corpse before turning your back and going towards the village
>You never hear the second creature until it impacts your ribs and sends you sprawling into the dirt and trees
>You begin to rise when its claws sink into your back and its teeth into your shoulder
>The cry of pain you unleash shakes the skies and you bolt up, whirling about and trying to catch this newcomer in your mighty jaws
>It pushes off you and flaps up into the air, landing a few meters from you
>You turn, slowed by the immense pain that radiates from the gashes, and being more cautious
>This one was larger than the other, almost equal in size to you
>The jaw was stronger, more pronounced, and its teeth more serrated like a steak knife than smooth
>It stands over the corpse of its fellow, bellowing in anger
>Perhaps they were mates? How would that bedroom romp go?
>Shuddering internally at the thought, and externally at a pulse of pain, you push the strange idea from your mind
>The beast pounces again, grabbing the horns about your head with stubby claws and scratching at your eyes with its hind talons
>It doesn't have the power to penetrate your scaly hide, but it's certainly distracting
>You snap at its legs, but it pulls away and pushes off, once again landing across the small, monster-made clearing
>A pressure begins building in your throat and your chest begins to burn, you need to kill this thing fast
>With a roar you spring forward, expecting to flatten the monster and crush its skull between your teeth
>Incredibly, the chiroptera avoids the pounce, immediately going back onto the offensive and tearing gashes along your flank
>One of its wings batters your head and knocks you to the ground
>Its fangs sink into your hind leg, eliciting another roar of anguish
>Your vision starts fading, the fatigue and pain taking its toll
>But that pressure in your throat and heat in your chest won't let you go down so easily
>You raise you head and look back at the creature, seeing your tail rise into the air as well
>But your spines aren't burnished bronze, they're crackling with azure energy
>The heat keeps building and pushing the pressure in your throat upwards
>A low buzzing noise fills the air, and the breeze crackles with energy
>The beast, backs of, chittering in fear and confusion
>You rise back onto all fours and face your adversary, panting with fatigue
>It feels like you're about to vomit, and you can't hold whatever was pressing in your throat back any longer
>Your jaws flare open, facing the monstrous bat, and unleash a hellstorm of lightning straight into its head
>The stream of pure energy cooks the air around it, generating a terrifying cacophony of crashes and booms
>Finally, you close your jaws and cease the storm, gazing at your fallen foe
>Its head is gone, it simply doesn't exist anymore
>The body is charred beyond recognition, and the grass around where it was standing had burned
>Your gaze travels back to where the village still stood, unharmed though perhaps their hearts were racing now
>But they all lived, and that was what mattered
>You roar in triumph with the last energy you can muster before rolling over onto your unmarred side, panting with exhaustion
>As you lay your head down, unable to muster the energy to hold it up any longer, your vision begins fading
>Before your eyes fully close, you see tiny silhouettes running towards you
>Your last thought is the hope that Tremor doesn't take this too hard
>Then you're gone
-
>You're sitting in a field, staring at the open, blue sky untainted by clouds or even birds
>A soft spring wind blows through the air, ruffling your mane and teasing your coat
>It's been a couple weeks since a joint force of Royal Equestrian Guards and Gryphon Varangers arrived
>You'd sent a report to Princess Celestia of course, she had sanctioned the mission and prepared everything diplomatically
>You hadn't expected this kind of response though, and truth be told the locals weren't taking kindly to it
>The mixed troop had immediately done their best to fence in the sleeping behemoth of a dragon, the one that'd fallen only a hundred meters from the village
>The villagers had tried to destroy the fence on many occasions, even succeeding in burning down a large part of it, before it was put under constant guard
>They had set up a small camp just across the clearing from the soldiers, and could often be heard incanting in some strange tongue that you weren't familiar with
>It was a bizarre scene to be sure, and you weren't certain of why you hadn't been recalled yet
>The mission was over, the source of the earthquakes and groundcracking shrieks had been found and...dealt with
>Why were you still here? You were just a scientist after all, no one important
>You feel a tap on your withers and turn to see a young gryphon standing there
>Oh it's the elder's, or matriarch of this clan you supposed, grandson, the one who'd seen you to the dragon
>He shuffles his feet around in the grass of the meadow
>"Ms. Tremor, we are celebrating tonight. I humbly request that you join us for this."
>That clipped accent sounded so odd, but perhaps it was just because he was making sure nothing was pronounced poorly
>Of course, it still sounded a bit funny
"Why? What's so special about tonight?"
>It sounded rude, but you just kind of blurted it out how you thought it
>Not much of a barrier between your brain and your mouth
>But Svardr either didn't notice the tone or, maybe more likely given your apparent status, was pointedly ignoring it
>"It's Ormrsdagr, today we make an offering to appease the great beast that sleeps by our village. He saved all of us, and we must honour the wounds he took in doing so."
>It sounded ridiculous, absolutely mad to pay homage to a creature that could have so easily annihilated their homes, had it not been distracted by beasts as horrifying as itself
>It was insanity, plain and simple
>But there was still a niggling doubt inside your mind, the monster had spared you after all
>Not only had it spared you once, but it had actively protected both you and the village
>Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't such a terrible force
"Alright, I'll go. When do the ceremonies or whatever start?"
>The young gryphon looks up at the sun, now just above the distant hills
>"Very soon, perhaps one half of an hour? Come, we must go now if we're to make it."
>You mutter under your breath, but rise and follow him as he walks back towards the village
>The chanting increases in volume, the closer you two get to the encampment
>Your hackles have been up the entire time, every nerve set on edge by the ambience of the noise and the runes carved into every tree nearby
>You weren't a superstitious pony, but damn if this wasn't bringing up thoughts of some cult bringing you to feed to a dead god or something
>The stiffness of Svardr's gait only sets your mind fluttering further onto ridiculous ideas about what might happen
>Before long, you arrive at the edge of the camp and begin making your way through the close quarters set by the abundance of tents
>There were strange knots in the trees that each tent sat at the foot of
>Twisted images of what appeared to be gigantic serpents and behemothic mastodons fighting
>The knots seemed to shimmer and dance in the firelight of the clearing, almost looking to move and fight in time with the rhythm of voices
>You shake your head, finally noticing that you've stopped outside the largest tent in the camp
>It was adorned with all sorts of trinkets, carved runestones, masks
>And of course, was the source of the loudest chanting in the area
>You duck under the flap and enter, your escort following close on your tail
>A group of gryphons stood in concentric circles around a fire, their heads bowed and tails twitching in time with their incantations
>One at the center, it was the matriarch herself, looks up as you enter and raises and claw to the congregation
>The noise immediately drops, not completely stopping but becoming more of a loud whisper than a cacophony
>The old gryphoness makes her way through the crowd, weaving lithely through the crush of bodies without touching a single one
>She bows low when she reaches you, catching your eyes with the decoration upon her
>Her feathers and fur were painted with a deep red substance, patterned in whorls and waves, runes and rushings all across her body
>It was tribal paint done to such a degree as to be dizzying
>She raises her head once again and places a claw on your brow, making you flinch from the contact
>"I am glad to see you here, drekivorð. This ceremony would have been such a miserly affair with your presence."
>You nod at her words and thank her quietly
>She gestures to the flap behind you, and you both walk out together, passing by Svardr who goes in to join the rest of the flock
>The moment that the tent flap shuts, the noise of the chanting increases again
>But the matriarch leads you away from the tent, to the border of the small bivouac, within sight of the soldiers fortifications and the sleeping mass of the dragon
>"Ms. Tremor, if it's acceptable to call you such, have you heard about how the gryphons first came to revere the dragons?"
>Of course you had! You'd done loads of cultural studies to prepare yourself for this trip this deep into their home
>Gods, mythos, creation of the world, even the differences based on the region that you'd be visiting
>Though...a refresher never hurt
"Heh, I'm actually a little foggy on that one."
>The matriarch, you'd never actually caught her name, looks up at the sky before beginning her tale
>"In ages past, our tribes had been reduced to so few, by disease, famine, and predations from creatures, such as hydras and windigos. But from one of the tribes, a great leader was born. Jurl Fafnir, of the Northern Wastes went and conquered the other tribes, bringing gryphons of every flock together as one, and we prospered. We had thought the North too sparse to populate, but he showed us hidden places to find food and rest, even new nesting grounds secreted away in the crags of the great mountains. And in the caves, we found the first dragons."
>She knelt down and began scratching pictograms into the dirt with her claws
>"These were not the same dragons you have in Equestria today, Ms. Tremor. They are like the one that has protected our village for eons, the one that those soldiers now surround out of fear. The great serpents in the North tolerated our presence, for our entire people ate less in a season than they did in a day, and because of our respect for their territory. But the peace was shattered one day when a fledgling stole an egg from one of the nests. By the time that they found the culprit, the son of the great leader, the boy had already devoured it."
>She stares across the way at the soldiers standing by the sleeping serpent, her eyes oddly distant
>"They say that the nest of the chieftain in the North still burn with the fury unleashed by the dragons on it. The very peak itself became molten and flowed like a red river, covering the entire nesting in ashes, and turning it into the Wastes we know today. That is when we left, for the dragons had shown us that they had the power that even gods would balk at using. Occasionally, from then on, there would be small raids by the dragons on some villages, often the ones of foolhardy hatchlings gone to the North to prove their worth. We erected shrines to them, that they might not turn their baleful breath upon us as well."
>She looks up at you and smiles, that oddly flexible beak turning up at the corners
>"And our worship has borne fruit, as you can see. For dragons find worship as endearing as many others do. It is simply natural for such monstrosity to warrant it. And that is the tale of why we worship these great firebringers, and I understand you may call such things foolhardy, but you have seen for yourself, they are not simple beasts like a chicken, or a cow. They are wiser than you, or even I, could ever hope to be."
>You both look at the distant peaks, beginning to glow red from a new day dawning
>Had it been so long already? All the excitement must have gone to your head, that or you really were that far north
>You watch the sun rise alongside the old gryphoness, content to warm yourself in the waxing rays of light
>But movement catches your sight in the corner of your vision
>A gilded chariot flits through the air, seeming to be beelining towards the dragon, and flanked by a number of pegasi in glistening armour
>Wait, didn't Princess Celestia use a chariot just like that one? Why in Tartarus would she be visiting here?
>But the train of thoughts is interupted by the sudden rumbling of the earth
>You lower your head as the matriarch starts chanting, probably in prayer
>In a second, you quickly join her, and the rumbling becomes worse
-
>The smell of strange blood fills your nostrils and twists your slumbering visions
>Horrific cries fill your ears, screams of wounded children and dying mothers
>Fire and smoke fill your gaze, obscuring the torment making the noise
>Alien thoughts scrape painfully along your consciousness, beating back the more rational part left behind
>'Three-and-forty eggs crushed, nests burned, brothers cut, Surtr's Perch blazing with eldritch hexes'
>A spike of cold pain lances through your chest and, finally the sensations cease
>Your eyes snap open once again, revealing a clutch of gold-clad guards sparkling in the dawning sun
>They shouted as soon as you opened your eyes, leveling their pikes square at your face
>Something about one of their wives or something named Celeste...
>The fog dispels from your mind and it finally dawns on you what they're talking about
>These are Celestia's troops, and they were yelling for her, and that meant
>Before your addled mind can catch up, the princess of the sun herself was standing before you in all her radiance
>Were it not for this body, you'd have stood high with arms outstretched to the heavens
>But you content yourself with raising your head off the ground, it takes enough energy just to do that
>Unfortunately, a yawn forces its way out of your throat, escaping into the morning air and polluting the stillness with a noisome bellow from deep within your chest
>The guards step back, cowed by the quite accidental display, but a group of similarly kitted, but clearly more specialized, troops take their place
>Their helmets cover their faces, masked with the visage of a snarling lion, and a tall, red plume rises from the top of their helmets
>The lances levelled at you now have a strange corkscrew patterning on the steel, and the heads are half as long as the hafts themselves
>But stepping in front of them, and wearing a gaze that's far more befitting of a warlord than a goddess, stands Princess Celestia
>But something about her is...off
>You couldn't put your finger, claw, talon whatever, on it but she was entirely offputting
>You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself from the threat of weapons levelled at you and an angry princess who could likely call down the power of the sun itself on you when it hits you
>She reeks
>It's no ordinary stench, the foul smell pouring off her seems to almost be emanating from her very soul, for how deep it is
>But below the rational human mind of yours, the instincts of a dragon lurched into sudden panic and writhing hatred
>'Murder, egg-killer, nest burner, matron of Tartarus, scale-cracker'
>But underneath it all was a rhythmic chant that continuously grew until it was all but deafening
>'Liar, liar, liar liar liar liarliarliarliarLIARLIARLIAR'
>You lips curled back and you felt a burning deep in your gullet, and your spines and crown of horns began crackling with a familiar energy
>You swiftly shut your eyes, forcefully close your mouth, and begin taking deep, meditative breaths
>You'd done enough fighting and, as anthemic as Celestia was to you, you needed to find out how to become not a dragon anymore
>No, you needed to find out how to become a human again
>Yes, human, that's what you were underneath all these scales, teeth, and spines
>Then it occurs to you, you have no clue how you were supposed to communicate like this
>Opening your eyes once more, you see Celestia's horn glowing as though charging up some kind of spell, probably to use on you
>You put and open hand in front of her, trying to show that you don't mean any harm, but one of those special guards stabs it with his lance
>The tip cuts clean through your scales and stabs deep into the palm, causing you to flinch away from it
>Your blood spatters the ground, steaming, sizzling, and for all the world looking like a pony
>That was it!
>With your opposite hand, you coat the tip of one of your claws in the blood and, with what little fine motor control you have, begin to draw in the dirt
>For what it's worth, Celestia and her guards restrain themselves while you do your best, tongue stuck out the side of your mouth with effort
>There, finished!
>It's passable as a dragon and a pony, in this case Celestia, touching claw and hoof together
>You ensure to point at the cartoonish looking smiles on each of their faces, done so she can figure out that you're friendly
>Her gaze has changed from one of divine wrath to that of a certain purple unicorn when something doesn't make sense
>But shouting draws your attention away from the regal ruler and towards a small, blond dot growing rapidly
>Wait, you know that dot, and the accompanying panicked shouting
>That was Tremor!
>She'd been kind enough to you, even if she did talk a bit much about her job when you walked with her back to the village
>You easily step over Celestia and her elites and lean your head down to meet Tremor half way, crooning in a happy tone
>She grabs onto your muzzle and starts nuzzling it
>You don't understand exactly why she was, but then you were a human in a world populated by talking ponies, and were trapped in the body of a gigantic dragon
>Looking past your snout, you see some old gryphon all painted up and looking really cool, except that she was bowing to you like a Muslim to Mecca
>Your chest expands slightly, such a magnificent creature like yourself deserves that kind of admiration after all, but for the most part you simply don't care all that much
>A pony was cuddling you, or your face, and that was contentment in a can, body, fursuit, whatever
>But from behind you, or beside you but behind your head, you hear someone clearing their throat
>You turn your head slightly and rotate your eye to see Princess Celestia standing and tapping her hoof impatiently
>Tremor, finally noticing her ruler standing there, rushes over and bows deeply before the princess
>"P-princess Celestia, I'm sorry. I didn't notice you there. I-I'm Tremor, the lead scientist of the team that you'd sent to find the source of the issues plaguing the Karstair tribe. It turned out to be a hydra, but easily three times larger than the ones we have in Equestria. But luckily this big guy was around to stop him!"
>The princess' gaze turns on you and you slowly blink, trying your damnedest to convey agreement, but gods only knew if you were pulling it off
>The princess turned her eyes back on the scientist still bowing at her feet
>"And does this creature have a name?"
>Creature? Ouch, that kinda hurt somewhere in your pride
>Tremor looks nervously between you and Celestia
>"Uh, he's called...Shiin, yeah. He actually woke up when the hydra was about to eat me, then kicked its butt! And kinda tore up the forest a bit, but still he saved me and that's got to count for something, r-right?"
>The sun goddess' gaze travels back to you and you simply stare back at her, nothing disturbing your stillness but your slow, sure breathing
>Finally, Celestia sighs and bows her head
>"Very well. Shiin, if that's indeed your name, please follow me. I have a great deal of questions to ask of you."
>You lower your head to show that you're willing to go along with her, but Tremor takes it for an invitation for her to jump on
>And indeed, that's what she does, like a little mountain goat she begin clambering up your head, carefully making her way past your bony crown
>Celestia stare pointedly at Tremor's rear, clearly trying to convey a message, maybe telepathically or something
>Could unicorns do that even?
>If they could, Tremor wasn't getting it at all, or maybe it was impossible
>Either way, you stare straight back at Celestia, daring her to object, until she finally sighs and turns around, taking flight and heading straight North
>You decide to walk instead, no need to try out flying when you've got precious cargo on your back
>And still, you can keep easy pace with Equestria's ruler, being careful to not trample too many woodland creatures underfoot
>The slight pressure on one of your spinal spikes lets you know that Tremor is safely aboard and nestled somewhere she won't fall off
>You begin wondering what compelled her to run to you like that after all, you were a dragon and she a pony, that's a predator-prey kinda thing, right?
>Of course, this had been your dream when you'd lived another life, having a warm pony cuddle up to you
>But not like this
>Not anything like this
-
>Celestia walks along, further away from the village, heading towards a mountain range in the distance
>Surely she wasn't going to walk all the way to the peaks, but she marched doggedly on without speaking
>The wide trail through the forest left by your enormous steps and swinging tail was followed by dozens of gryphons
>All of them were painted in dizzying arrays of runes and designs, many sang as they walked along with you
>The guards-
>'Dragonslayers' a whisper tickled through your mind
>The Dragonslayers kept the avian people back a fair distance from you but seemed more concerned for the safety of their princess, always leaving a half dozen guards around her person
>You did your best to pointedly ignore them, instead absorbing yourself with reflection
>After finding that you hadn't been dreaming on the first day, one thought had been slowly consuming you
>How?
>How did you come to be in Equestria? How were you inhabiting the body of a dragon?
>How were you going to get back home?
>Perhaps Celestia had some or all of the answers, perhaps she had none
>But first you needed to find the answer to a more pressing question
>How were you going to communicate with her?
>Well you are a magical, mythical beast, and even if you're incapable of speaking you must be able to 'talk' in some way
>Another word rumbles through your consciousness and a force presses down on your head
>'Mind'
>As quickly as it comes, the feeling is gone but the word itself lingers
>You recall your earlier thought as Celestia had glared at Tremble
>Yes, perhaps that would be the way, you are a being of magic as well now
>You focus on trying to push your mind “outwards” from your head
>Or more specifically, above it to the little weight nestled among your crown of horns
>You feel the little pony on your head shifting around
>You try and sharpen your mind towards that sensation, and you hear a little gasp
>Finally, you're rewarded with a glimpse inside her mind
>It's a busy place, and right now full of fear and...pain?
>Startled by the sudden realization, you think less of a sharp focus and more of a gentle embrace
>Her pain lessens a great deal, and she stops shifting, but you hear her panting as though exhausted by the experience
>Suddenly it dawns on you
>How do you plan to talk like this?
>With all the thoughts that are racing through both yours and her mind, any words would likely be jumbled
>But you can use feelings perhaps, or visions?
>With nothing to lose, you try and impress an image of you shaking her hoof
>A great deal of confusion emanates from her mind, and you realize you'd given her an image of the human you shaking her hoof
>You try again, this time with a vision of a smaller version of the dragon you are performing the same action
>She speaks aloud from the top of your head, seeming quite distant to you
>”A-are you trying to communicate with me?”
>Over your new mental connection, you make the projection of yourself nod
>”Uh, well, I'm Tremble. I'm a seismologist and avithropologist. I'm the uh, the pony you saved from that hydra.”
>You snort out loud, you knew all this already, you weren't some old man dammit!
>Tremble lets out a little 'eep' as the wave of annoyance goes over the telepathic connection
>Is that how it works?
>You suppose it makes sense that it would send feelings as well, got to be more careful about that
>Now you send a calm feeling, and in return you feel a sense of relaxation
>A yell comes from below you and you notice one of the Dragonslayers blocking your path
>You were so distracted that now your foot is hanging just above him, but now stopped
>Celestia's voice echoes up from the woods below you, sounding far louder than any normal yelling could even be
>”We're here, creature. Let my subject down.”
>While it irks you on some strange level to follow the orders of a pony, you lower your head under the trees and rest it next to the princess
>Her personal guards have their lances leveled at your face, you notice
>As if you even wanted to attack her
>That rank stench hasn't disappeared from her though, it sits heavy in your nostrils
>You feel a pressure deep within rumbling, well under your conscious mind, but it begins to concern you
>But time enough for mysteries later, and you put the thoughts out of your mind
>Tremble clambers down your craggy face and bows before her princess, though Celestia just glares up at you
>”So, beast, do you know where we are?”
>You look around the little clearing you've found yourself in
>There are several rows of what look like long, overgrown trenches plowed across it
>Much of the greenery is short grasses and wildflowers, unlike many of the clearings you had passed though
>In fact, it reminded you a bit of the space you had awoken in
>But still, you slowly shake your head
>You didn't want to attempt to communicate to what may as well be a god with your mind quite yet
>The princess scoffs and makes a sweeping gesture with her hoof
>”Fifty years ago, this was an outpost of the Equestrian Expeditionary Force. They were guarding a group of scientists who were bound for the Wastes to the North of here.”
>She turns towards the dark line of mountains in the distance and her eyes narrow
>”Shortly after making camp here, all of them vanished. When an investigation team finally came, all that they found was a burned out crater. They asked the villagers, who all claimed ignorance of anything happening. But one of my cartographers noted a large elevation nearby that had not appeared on any maps before.”
>She twists back to face you, her brow creased with lines of anger
>”So monster, why did you feel it necessary to kill my ponies?”
>You squint your eyes at her, confused at the accusation
>You'd never harmed a pony, and you certainly hadn't done it fifty years ago
>Tremble stop kowtowing before Celestia and moves herself into the princess' sightline
>Her voice quivers as she speaks up
>”Y-your majesty, please pardon me but, I don't think this is the dragon that destroyed the expedition.”
>Celestia's glare turns from you onto Tremble, who makes like her namesake and begins shaking
>”And how, my little pony, would you know such a thing?”
>Tremble raises a shaking hoof to her forehead
>”W-well, I can...feel it in here. I d-don't know how, but I know he doesn't know what you're talking about.”
>Oh right, the mental link
>You look at Tremble's back and do your best to exude a calming warmth
>It's not easy, the subconscious rumble keeps growing the longer Celestia stares
>But the seismologist's shaking lessens and she stands up straighter
>Celestia's voice turns from angry to sounding abhorred
>”You mean you let this creature inside your mind?”
>Tremble shakes her head and scratches at the earth
>”No, he just started...communicating with me. While we were walking out here, I had this image of him in my mind. But I knew it wasn't from inside, somehow. And at first it was him, but wasn't you know, him? It's all...”
>She sits on the ground, rubbing her temples, and Celestia lays a hand on her withers, speaking in a  voice holding a note of interest
>”So you can speak with him?”
>Tremble nods her head, slowly
>Celestia's face softens as a smile grows on her face
>”Well my little pony, and dragon, let us have a proper conversation.”
-
>Celestia stared coldly at you, and in turn you held her gaze
>It was significantly easier for you now that the gryphons had caught up with your party
>They had made camp near your tail and groups of them were near constantly worshiping your very presence
>The worship seemed to make you stronger, you were far less tired than you had been when you'd first stopped
>That brought up the question of feeding
>Did you even need to anymore?
>As long as you had the gyphons around, or any kind of worshiper, you'd get powered up it seemed
>That could certainly be interesting, but what if you didn't have any around?
>Well it was all something to figure out later
>The noise of someone clearing their throat snaps you out of your reverie
>”I'm waiting for an explanation, dragon.”
>An explanation for what?
>Had she asked a question while you were lost in your thoughts?
>Did she expect you to read her mind?
>A timid voice speaks up from beside your face, just out of your sight
>”He's confused about what he's supposed to explain, princess.”
>And rightly so!
>You let out an indignant puff of smoke, ignoring the guards with their lances leveled at you
>Celestia rolls her eyes and speaks in an exasperated tone
>”I want you to explain that, if it was not you who destroyed the expedition, then who or what did?”
>Well, you suppose that question at least makes sense
>Not that it means you know the answer at all
>You focus on Tremor, and trying to give her the feeling of not knowing what the answer is
>”Princess, he doesn't know what killed them.”
>Maybe you're actually getting better at this
>Celestia slams a hoof down on the grassy pasture
>”That isn't good enough, by Tartarus!”
>Tremble's sudden burst of fear feeds back through your mental link, setting your nerves on edge
>You immediately set about trying to calm yourself, but in your distraction something...else washes in
>A powerful, thundering voice echoes through your head, and judging by the reactions of the ponies, theirs as well
>'IT WAS NOT I THAT SHED THEIR BLOOD BUT GLAD WOULD I HAVE BEEN TO BREAK THE NECKS OF THOSE WHO DARE HUNT DRAGONS'
>For a long moment, everything in the clearing is silent
>The wind itself seems to have stopped rustling the grass, cowed by the enormity of the telepathic bellow
>From the corner of your eye, you see Tremble backing towards Princess Celestia
>And slowly, as the guards regain themselves, they level their lances at your face
>Celestia opens her mouth to shout, but you don't hear her words
>A wind rushes over your face, drowning out all sound
>You squint your eyes into it, and when the wind winds down, you find yourself surrounded by a burning hellscape
>Looking around, you see that you're at the base of a burning volcano
>A massive, shadowy thing blasts through the plume of ash and rushes overhead, scattering cinders in its wake
>You raise your hand over your face as it passes to protect it
>Wait, your hand?
>You look down and realize that you're back to being the way you were born
>Happy as you are to be back in your body, the location tempers your ecstasy
>A crash echoes behind you and a cloud of soot rushes past you
>You turn around to find out what had crashed, and see the trunk of a massive tree
>A scaly, clawed tree
>Your gaze travels upwards and stops at the massive head of a dragon, so large it blocks out the fiery sky
>The head pushes through the thin curtain of ash and cinder, looming ever closer to your face
>A massive crown of horns sitting atop the head crackle with bright streaks of lightning
>And then, in a monstrous voice, it speaks to you
>”So, you are the soul-traveller that inhabits my body.”
>The enormity of the dragon leaves you speechless
>You may have been in that body for the past few...days? Weeks?
>Just how long had it been anyway?
>The gargantuan claw in front of you slams into the ground again
>”ANSWER.”
>You open your mouth and speak up in a stuttering voice
“I-I'm Anonymous.”
>The dragon snarls at you, lowering its immense head and taking you in with a piercing, cobalt eye
>”Do not trifle with a dragon, nothing remains unknown to me for so long!”
>You stand speechless for a moment that drags out into eternity
>Then the dragon blinks, quite suddenly
>”Oh.”
>There is another moment of silence
>Then you just have to open your stupid mouth
“Uh, not to waste your time, but where are we?”
>The dragon stares at you silent
>Then from its throat pours a grating, monstrous sound
>To call it laughter would diminish it, but you suppose it's the closest such a being could come
>The halting roar rises for a long moment before petering out
>Then sounding quite mirthful, the dragon speaks again
>”Why, dear invader, we are home!”
>You blink, startled, and look around
“But...this isn't home.”
>The dragon's thoughts lose their jubilant tone
>”Perhaps it once was not, but you have taken my body from me. This is now your home, just as much as mine.”
>The reality of that simple statement hits home, and overwhelms you
>You sit heavily in the dust of the eruption, the volcano rumbling quietly behind you
>The dragon lays its monolithic head beside you
>”What brought you to take my body?”
>You stare into its eye, incredulous at the question
“I didn't 'take' anything. I just woke up one day and 'poof' I was a dragon.”
>The beast squints the eye facing you
>”Is that so? Where are you from, creature? I have not seen your like before.”
>You stare up at the embers floating across the smoky sky
“Earth, a little planet in who knows where now. I'm a human, there's seven billion more like me back home.”
>The dragon shuffles, seeming to want a better look at you
>”Really now, seven billion? And other...humans, they look like you?”
>You shrug your shoulders, feeling emptier as you talk more about home
“More or less. Some are taller, or shorter. Fatter or skinnier. White, red, black, all manner of colours.”
>You trail off again, eyes locked on the sky
>A throaty rumble from the dragon breaks the silence
>”Human, I think you and I can strike an accord.”
>You barely lift your head off the ground, weighed down by thoughts of home
“What kind of...'accord' are you talking about?”
>You turn your head to look at the dragon, and see him staring at the quaking volcano
>”I want you to help me restore my home, human. I no longer can control my body, not with you in it. So you must do as I say.”
>You push yourself off the ground and stand next to his head, hands on your hips
“And what do I get out of this?”
>The dragon's head turns back to you
>”In return, when my home has been returned to how it was, I will gift you with all my knowledge of this world and its magic. As well, I will assist you in scouring this place for any way to return you home.”
>You think for a long few moments
>This could be it, your only chance to get back to reality
>Well your reality at least
>And besides, it's not like you have anything left to lose
>You feel a flicker of heat in your chest, a swell of energy that pushes aside the hopelessness that had been festering
>You look the dragon in its glassy eye, and see a small glimmer, a fire of determination, reflected from your own
“I'm in.”
>The dragon's laugh booms out across the smoldering hellscape once more, and a hot wind rushes over you again, obscuring the world with ash and ember
-
>The clanking of metal objects and baleful moan of horns brings you back to reality
>When you open your eyes your gaze is assaulted with all manner of coloured banners whipping in the wind
>Focusing in, you see they're attached to poles coming from the top of large tents that have been set up across the immediate area
>All manner of gryphons surround you as well
>Some are bowing down in a semi-circle around you, and there are others coughing or in bandages laying against your body
>A heavily decorated gryphon at the edge of the praying group looks up from his strange, fiddle like instrument and gasps
>He begins babbling excitedly in a language you don't understand before running off towards the largest of the tents
>The worshipers chanting increases in volume and velocity, and some of the injured or sick at your feet utter quiet prayers of their own
>Despite the proximity of the ill gryphons, you feel remarkably at ease
>In fact, for the first time since awakening here, you feel well rested
>The soreness that had been slowly taking over your body had seemingly disappeared
>Your injuries from the first large fight had finally stopped their constant throb and ache
>You open your maw and let out a massive yawn, frightening some of the gryphons around your muzzle away
>More gryphons join the growing crowd of worshipers as you shift slight, adding to the cacophony of sound
>You ply your eyes around the crowd, spotting the old gryphon from the village among them
>Troublesomely, you don't spot Tremble among all the gryphons
>As you strain your eyes to look beyond the congregation, you still fail you see her, though the mass continues to grow outwards exponentially
>With your perusal, you notice a parting in the throng that moves steadily towards you
>As it draws nearer, you feel your anticipation building
>They may worship you, but whoever this was commanded their obedience
>When the opening is a few rows of gryphons away, you raise your head fully, trying to portray yourself as regal as possible
>Your pride begins quieting the nervousness inside, you were a dragon dammit and you were going to act like it!
>Finally, the source of the disturbance arrives in front of you
>A small group of gryphons stand before you, many of them wearing ornately decorated furs and assorted regalia
>At the head of the flock is a being you can only describe as 'kingly'
>He towers a full head above anyone else in the entourage, wearing a gargantuan bear pelt stitched with gold threading
>The top half of the jaw sits atop his head, its gilded teeth surrounding his face like an upturned crown
>His eyes, though shaded, glint with an intelligent gleam that his massive figure would belie
>At his right hand is his absolute opposite, a wizened and hunched figure clinging to a staff decorated with dull yellowed bones
>The shriveled gryphon is, himself, heavily decorated, but with dark red glyphs painted over his ancient form
>But he carries himself with a force that his scrawny body seems to hide
>And then, from behind a squad of hulking guard gryphons, a comparatively tiny pony steps out and into your view
>You rumble happily and move your muzzle past the two high ranking gryphons towards Tremble
>She runs up and grabs the tip of your nose, beaming happily
>You hear someone clearing their throat on your right and look over to see a young looking gryphon decorated like a herald
>He opens a scroll in his hands and begins to speak in only mildly accented English
>”Presenting his most high majesty of the Great Rookery, slayer of the Ancient Svarbjern, conqueror of the Green Heath, he who has touched the sun, the Grand King Gunnar Arnesen!”
>Your gaze floats over to the announced king, who looks chafed after the end of the spiel
>In a surprisingly soft voice, though one that doesn't lack command, he speaks to his subordinate
>”That will be all, Harald.”
>The herald, Harald, backs away bowing towards you and the king
>The king then turns to you and the pony still nuzzling your snout
>”Great dragon, as you heard I am King Gunnar, ruler over all gryphons. I beg your pardon for not making my pilgrimage to your presence earlier. Word has only recently reached my ears.”
>He bows low before continuing to speak
>”We have expelled the princess and her savage guards from these lands. They will not be allowed to threaten your glory any further.”
>You blink slowly, not entirely understanding
>The king takes it as a good signal and continues his speech
>”And as you can see, we have spread word of your awakening far and wide. Thousands have come to pay homage to you, and many more build shrines in their villages. And word still continues to spread. Soon all shall know of the glory of your reawakening.”
>At this, many of the worshipers cheer raucously
>The king straightens himself, a small grin tugging at the edges of his beak
>Clearly he is please with himself for his words, no doubt thinking them expertly chosen to appease your ego
>And if you were a real dragon, or had any idea what was going on, they probably would have
>The king fidgets in the uncomfortable silence before breaking it himself
>”So, great dragon, it is with the utmost humility that I implore you, command us. What is it that we lowly folk might do to appease your cosmic might?”
>A rumbling stirs deep within, and you find yourself reflecting on your dream
>A dream of dragons, of burning hills, and restoration
>You concentrate your will on the king, surrounding the comparatively small flicker of his own mind with the incessant furnace of your own
>And with that done, you impress upon him one singular word, taking all your focus to ensure nothing else is said
“North...”
-
>The kings eyes grow wide, and he turns to the crowd, his body visibly shaking from the mental force he'd found himself in contact with
>After a moment to compose himself, he manages to speak in a loud voice that somehow lacks the grandeur it had before
>”The great dragon, guardian of our people, wishes to go to the North! Let us all, each and every one, give him everything he needs to reach his goal!”
>He repeats the command in the gryphon language as well
>The gryphons cheer and many disperse, running to and fro to tents, spreading the command through the camp
>In the commotion, Tremble climbs atop your head and nestles among your horns
>You focus your thoughts up and on her, you need an update on what happened
>After all, none of this could have sprung up in the ten minutes you'd spent inside your own head
>You hear her speak from atop your head
>”Uh, Mr. Dragon, you've been asleep for a week now.”
>That statement stuns you
>How could it have possibly been an entire week?
>The last thing you remember was Celestia confronting you about something
>And then that horrible roar and you were...
>”It's okay, the gryphons will protect you. King Gunnar brought a thousand soldiers and more are coming from other large cities. Nothing to be afraid of.”
>You feel as though she's treating you like a scared animal
>Your thoughts turn back to wonder what had made Celestia leave in the first place
>”There was an...incident.”
>Oh this wasn't going to be good
>”After that psychic shout that came from you, Celestia and her guards wanted to get all the gryphons out of there so they could cordon you off and deny all access.”
>You feel Tremble's melancholy and hear her voice begin to crack
>”Svardr he...he confronted Celestia, put a claw on her to stop her. One of the guards overreacted and he...”
>She trails off, but you can figure out what happened
>You doubt Celestia had wanted to actually hurt you, or hurt that gryphon, but the matter was that it had happened
>You can't help but admire the restraint that the king had shown in simply expelling Celestia instead of calling for blood
>Tremble composes herself and continues, as you rise from your place in the camp and walk as softly as you can out to the forest
>”The elder, Yngi, has been calling for Celestia's blood though. She pleaded with the king, and when he refused she started praying to you for vengeance.”
>Your unease flows over the mental link, reciprocated by Tremble
>It was a good thing you were getting away from the camp, you certainly needed the moment alone
>Well, mostly alone
>”Mr. Dragon, what's in the North that you need to go to?”
>Hmm, shit
>What exactly was up there that the dragon wanted?
>He said something about restoration sure, but restoration of what?
>Maybe it was some kind of monument or sacred site that you could somehow fix
>All that you could feel is that it was of such importance that fixing it was a matter of life and death
>You transmit the certainty of the importance of the journey, but refrain from letting her feel the confusion of exactly what the journey was for
>You feel her contentment at your thought, and she settles down on the top of your head
>Cutting off the mental link, you stare off into the distance, glaring at the peaks of mountains that seemed worlds away
>North said the dragon
>That was all, just go North and fix something
>Then you could go home
>Tremble stirs a bit on top of your head, grabbing hold of one of the large spikes that crowned you
>Home
>A distant but pleasant thought
>You turn back to the camp and see many of the tents have been taken down and more are in various states of disassemble
>Well, you should go back anyway, the adoring public needed you
>Gently as you can, you trudge back to the encampment
>Upon returning you lay down at the edge, gently rocking your head to wake the pony who'd made herself so comfortable on your crown
>You feel her stir and she gently climbs down the craggy ramp of your nose and onto the trodden earth
>She rubs her eyes sleepily and turns, then gives you an endearing smile
>Oh god, how were you suppose to respond to that?
>Before you can stop yourself, the instinct of smiling back has already worked its magic over your snout
>Your upper, more elastic, mouth covers draw back and upwards at the corners of your mouth
>But the front of your snout is bony plate, and is unflexing even as it is pulled back to expose your gargantuan, glistening maw of teeth
>There's no way this looks anything but hideous or terrifying
>But still, Tremble chuckles at your attempt and turns back to the busy camp
>Then you see a sizable number of gryphons going straight towards the pair of you
>And traveling at their head is the king himself
>Tremble kneels as he arrives in front of you, but he waves the gesture away
>Then he turns his attention back to you
>”Oh great dragon, we have spread word among our humble flock of your journey North. There are many here who will now return to their nestings and tell tales of this, but there are many more who will follow you and give aid as you roam.”
>A great cheer rises from the host behind him, many clanging objects together and making as much noise as they could
>The praise swells in your heart, and the promise of company does sound good at least
>As the swell dies down, the king speaks once more
>”Great dragon, protector of our people for generations, we would but humbly ask one thing of you before we take this perilous road in your footsteps.”
>Well that sounds easy enough, just one thing right?
>You nod your head towards him, to indicate your acceptance
>”So that the bards may compose songs, banners be made for you, and stories be written, all glorifying you above lesser creatures; please mighty one, grant us the privilege of your name!”
>Another cheer, somehow drowning out the previous one rises from the crowd
>Your name?
>Anonymous is the first thing that comes to your mind
>But just as quickly as it comes, it slips away into nothing
>You weren't Anonymous anymore, you were a dragon dammit!
>But it couldn't just be any name either, it had to be the right name
>So what could it be?
>You think of the names of all the dragons you'd ever read about from old stories
>There was Fafnir, a guy who got turned into a dragon because he was a greedy dickhole
>But that wouldn't fit with you, even if it seemed to match the gryphon naming conventions
>Jormungandr would fit within that convention as well, even if he wasn't technically a dragon
>Leviathan would certainly be appropriate for your size, but still
>None of these names felt right
>But then you feel that almost familiar brushing against the bottom of your mind
>Now though, it doesn't merely stop at a brush, but drags at you, embracing your mind entirely
>And in that rush, a name is branded in your mind
>No, not a name, the Name,
>Your Name
>You hear the booming laughter of an ancient mind and feel yourself caught in its excitement
>And with a roar that shakes the earth and teeth turned to a sky glowing red, you shout your name into the thoughts of every being as far as the mountains themselves
I AM AGON, THE STAR EATER
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