Short Story 1: Dragonrealm

Let's face it, the long installment thing wasn't really working. It was a good exercise, but I have a better idea. Short stories! Let's begin.

Dragonrealm

'The scales of a young dragon are said to have the brightest of scales; each shimmering in the sunlight with an indescribable depth. Their brilliance sends a thousand shards of light back through the cool, clear air, where they fall gently wherever they please. It is a sight few behold, because these same scales are often owned the fiercest of beasts.'

'That's what we'll become?' asked Smarga curiously. He flapped his relatively tiny golden wings, and looked expectantly at his mother. She gazed at him fiercely as she always did, her own silver scales glinting slightly. They were unusual scales in that she could use them to almost look like a metal sculpture.

'No, my love, not if I can help it.' In years to come, Smarga would come to be amused at the difference between his mother's words and her aura.

'Why? Aren't I a fearsome dragon?' He attempted a roar, but it ended in a slight cough, and his breath hadn't even been warm. He shook his head slightly.

'You will be, but we want to live in peace,' said his mother, and he gazed at her in admiration. She was so strong and beautiful. 'If we can avoid fighting those little short-legs, then we might live a long while.'

Still, Smarga didn't understand. 'But why? We're dragons,' he said, as if that was all that mattered.

His mother sighed and told him that one day he'd understand.

From that day forward, Smarga's mother attempted to teach him all she knew, with occasional input from his father. The goal was to make the adolescent strong enough to survive, with a sharp mind to boot. Thus Smarga grew into an immense dragon with scales of pure gold.

Then one day, someone was reckless, and all of a sudden the order was shattered.

It was perhaps to the detriment of all that Smarga was away hunting for the week, so when the first short-legs came for revenge, he was unable to help. The fall of dragonrealm was swift amd steady without the strongest there. 

And then the loneliness closed in. In an instant, Smarga was a lomely orphan who had to care for himself. 

Loneliness. The power of that was unprecedented. In destroying a family, it seemed that the short-legs had created their own vengeful dragon.

It was the beginning of the end. All over the land, a new name was know. Smaug. Smaug the terrible.