museboxofmuses | DRAGON AU

DRAGON AU

Prometheus hibernated a lot.

There wasn't much else to do, as a hermit-dragon. He couldn't venture out into the world in case some intrepid 'adventurer' wanted to slay him for bragging rights or his hide, he couldn't mingle with other dragons because he was one of Nidhogg's brood (a fact which was why he couldn't socialise with any Ishgardians because spears inevitably got involved in those conversations, he knew, he still had the scar on his hindquarters from his last naive attempt), and he knew absolutely no one else, knew nothing about the world or its new continents or civilisations, so hibernating it was.

But even then, sleeping got dull.

Prometheus sighed deeply, drawing his wings tighter about himself. Perhaps it was because he spent so much time sleeping, but his draconic body evolved to have furred wings - which was nice, it was very warm, even if they did shed some strange, fluffy black motes from time to time (he soon learned that these motes were highly toxic to mortals, probably from his subconscious desire to be left alone slipping into this body's maturing evolution). The downy undercoat of his wings was shed often and thickly enough that he even had a little nest, in a cave warmed by geothermic means, in the high mountains of Coethas. It was cosy, safe, and isolated.

It was also boring and devoid of anything. Prometheus came here... fuck, centuries? Or millennia? He couldn't remember. A long while, just after the war between Ishgard and the dragons kicked off in earnest. He flew here as a dragonnet, and slept and slept and slept, with miserable waking moments in between where he went to stretch his wings, eat a bear or something, and crawled back in his warm, soft cave to sleep some more.

He was avoiding reality, he knew. He didn't understand why he woke up in the form of a dragon - an alien species, not native to their star, how the hell did the reincarnation cycle mess up that badly!? - what happened to Amaurot, why the geography was completely different and... where Hades and Hythlodaeus were. He remembered, in the early days of his life, he would cry out through the Lifestream to hear nothing back, and was slowly accepting that, maybe, it was just him. Alone.

No Hades. No Hythlodaeus. Just him and his cave.

He exhaled heavily, flexing his claws as his body sluggishly roused from its latest bout of hibernation. His stomach was an empty pit of starvation, so he had to eat something calorie dense before dozing back off again. The only thing was, it took ages for his body to fully 'wake up'. Spending centuries practically in a coma made his limbs lock up, and it took a while for the aether flowing through his body to regain strength and feeling in them again. Not that he was in any rush...

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Prometheus stirred, mumbling drowsily as he lifted his head. It took him a moment to remember where he was, his feelers flicking upright to sharpen his sight. Below them, the choppy ocean with tiny islands had turned into wide, grassy plains, tall mountain ranges reaching up in the distance.

"Oh," Prometheus sat up, his soul brightening with joy and awe, "It goes on forever! It's like a sea of grass!"

“Welcome to the steppe,” Hades said, grinning internally— since he couldn’t really in his current shape. He glided down into the mountains to change shape. He assumed his usual form and began to finger comb his hair. “The locals... look something like this-“

And with a snap of his fingers, he affixed a glamour to himself: black horns, tail, and scales adorned him. His features shifted ever so slightly to fit in with more of the norm.

“And for clothes... I should be careful to not broadcast something untrue...” he placed his hands on his hips for a moment, snapped his fingers, and ended up in that very revealing little wrestling outfit dyed black.

“I could glamour you into a horse, but I don’t think anyone will be too bothered by you here.”

Prometheus landed heavily when Hades shifted to a human form, stretching his stocky legs out to get the blood flowing again. He was feeling peckish now, and he sniffed the air as Hades played around with his glamour into... a dragon-hyur hybrid?

"Eh? Eh? There are people who look like this?" he asked excitedly, pushing his snout close to Hades to get a better look. Scaled hide - but with human skin? A tail, horns - oh, instead of ears! Interesting! Rare to see that trait in bipedal creatures. Huh, he wondered, if they had such lizard traits, did they have two dicks?

Hmmm.

"Hrmph, I'm not being a horse," Aza grumbled, lifting his nose up with a snort, "That'd mean I wouldn't be allowed to talk when we meet some locals. Unless talking horses are a thing around here..."

“Yes. They’re called the Au Ra. On the steppe they’re the Xaela. Too bad they dwindle their own numbers in ceaseless combat.”

A talking horse... would be a really funny thing to spring on the natives. They’d probably try to buy him. That’s a trick he would save for later, with Prometheus’ consent. “Not normally, no...” Hades said, crossing his arms. “It shouldn’t hurt anything just to use a glamour...”

It wasn’t creation magic, and it wasn’t truly augmenting anything... Just a trick of the light, really. He snapped his fingers again, gently squishing that dragon form into the body of an Auri man.

Prometheus made a startled noise when he felt the glamour settle - it felt odd, because it was conforming his body to a form without actually taking that form. It made his scales itch oddly, and he made a face, giving himself a bit of a wriggle.

"Mmnnnngh this feels weird," he muttered, "I feel like I'm wearing a latex bodysuit."

“That is essentially it,” Hades said, pressing his hands on Prometheus’ shoulders.

“How’s it feel?” Hades was close like this, nearly nose to nose. “Speaking of horses, do you know how to ride?”

Before Prometheus could even answer, he Created them a single horse, huge and powerful looking. It would be surprising if others didn’t attempt to buy it everywhere they went.

Prometheus almost went cross-eyed when Hades leaned in so close, and he leant back with an amused giggle.

"Oh, wow," he said, eyeing up the horse. Was it weird that his first thought was how tasty it looked? "I think I do? I mean, I did some riding when I was a lot younger but, I think I've probably forgotten most of it."

Hades gave him a peck on the lips, letting his hands slide down to his waist. “Let’s go on an adventure, then,” Hades said with a smile. He felt himself blush a little. It had been so long since he’d had Prometheus and so few days he had with him so far. It almost felt like dating. It wasn’t quite like picking up where they’d left off for several reasons... but for for, this was enough.

Hades mounted with practiced ease and held a hand out to help Prometheus mount the horse.

“Just hold onto me and you’ll be fine,” he said. “Let’s see if we can reach a tribe by nightfall.” Hades had some cursory understanding of the Auri way of life, but he hadn’t spent a real chunk of time in this area in a few hundred years.

Prometheus's mounting was a little less graceful than Hades's, but he managed to sit in the saddle behind his partner well enough. He scooted close, ignoring the bump of Hades's... tail (heh) pressing against his hip bone as he wrapped his arms around his waist.

"So, these people are still in the nomadic stage of their society development?" Prometheus asked curiously when the horse began a very gentle, careful trot, "That's interesting..."

“It’s more of a choice than a stage, for them. They have a battle every year to see who will live in the single permanent domicile,” Hades said as they trotted down the mountain path. “Ah look, there it is,” he said as the rock wall cleared on one side, gesturing to the enormous structure.

“Though thousands of years ago... this was a much different place,” oh the things they did as allagans... what a time. “But that is everywhere here, really.”

The sun cast down through the misty haze of the day. It was warm with a gentle breeze rolling through the grass. Though this was a place he’d been before, it felt different with Prometheus at his back, holding him. His heart skipped a beat as if he were newly in love.

Prometheus made a soft noise of awe when the Dawn Throne came into view, a massive structure looming in the faint haze of late morning. The Azim Steppe truly was beautiful, Prometheus thought, giving Hades's waist a small squeeze. He had hoped for days like this, back in Amaurot, where he could drag Hades out on his adventures and explore the world with him... but, of course, Emet-Selch had been busy managing his office, and hadn't been interested in such things...

But it was different now, by horrible, permanent circumstances. Prometheus pushed the gloomy thought aside - enough of that! He was here to enjoy his time with Hades!

"They fight over that every year? But... a year's barely any time to make yourself at home!" Prometheus said, his sense of time skewed by his own longevity. A year was hardly any time at all! "They're always in such a rush, these humans..."

“They are,” Hades said. “But the point is only to throw up their little tents to rest. Their days are consumed by hunting, training, and herding. They make crafts with what little time leftover. Some do even less; there’s a tribe here that sleeps in their saddles,” Hades showed himself to be quite the adept rider, even if he was riding a horse he materialized.

“This is the perfect place to hunt. The animals are mostly untouched, and they are powerful and ferocious. Only the strong can survive here, but often they do not. If you speak to them about their customs, they reveal only pride.”

He pressed the horse into quicker pace, the inhabitants of the grasslands coming into view.

“So really, I have no idea who we might run into, but they may try to kill us.”

"... that's nice," Prometheus sighed, "You take me to a place where the locals will want to kill us. You always had weird tastes, Hades..."

But it did paint a rather intriguing picture, these Steppe inhabitants. If this was back in Amaurot times, Prometheus might've observed them over several generations out of sheer interest alone, maybe write up one of his papers about them... but of course, he couldn't do that now.

They eventually came across a small encampment, too small to be a tribe settlement. A hunting party, maybe? There were two horsemen with spears who trotted out to greet them, their clothes patterned with bright golden colours, and their mouths covered by cloth. While wary, they didn't seem hostile in the slightest, and they did not speak, instead doing pointed movements with their hands.

"Oh, sign language!" Prometheus crooned, "That's neat. Hello! Uh, hm, let's see... I know Xeroran sign language, I wonder if it'll translate properly..."

Hades placed a quick hand over Prometheus’. “It will not. Please don’t tell the natives that we’ll tongue their balls for supper.”

Hades watched the hand movements. They hadn’t changed much since he’d been here last, but he owed that to the absolute crawl their technology and culture made. Hades dropped his soul walls to Prometheus, entangling them quickly so he could understand what would happen next.

Instead, Hades launched into rapid Xaelan explaining that they were lost and without weapons, but they could pay their way with coin or goods. Hades had cleverly put saddle bags on the horse, though empty, allowing him to covertly create anything he wanted.

Edited 2019-12-01 20:48 (UTC)

Prometheus 'aw'd quietly at not being able to be useful, and sat back and listened to Hades talk. Thanks to their souls entangling, he understood what was going on, gently prised the language from Hades to copy into his own knowledge, and watched as the two Xaelas seemed to consider Hades's story.

After some silent conversation between them done entirely by their eyes and movements of their brows, they turned back and nodded, and their spears were hitched back onto their saddles. It seemed they were welcome.

"Oh, your sweet talking worked!" Prometheus said in Amaurotine. He was acting like a tourist in a petting zoo, cooing over every interaction his partner had with the penned animals, "I wonder what their hosting customs are like...?"

“The Qestir are particularly peaceful...for a warring tribe. We will find out together, I’m sure,”Hades did like the praise given to him, though. Hades dismounted, leading the horse to tie it up with the others.

The hunter signed that there was a dangerous pack of beasts moving through the area and that they would need to wait for them to pass before heading back. In the meantime, they had enough food to share.

“Hmm... Prometheus, check them over for injuries, see if there’s anything they might need. I could chase away the pack, but that might be a little over the top. I can use a simple piece of wood as a staff if they want me to have a prop.”

He asked if they would sleep there, and they guessed that it would be likely.

Prometheus perked up and eagerly went to make himself useful. After some stilted Xaelan (just because he copied the knowledge didn't mean it had properly sunk in) the Qestir consented to him looking over some of their wounded. There were only a few, shallow wounds that were already tended to, except one had clearly a broken arm. Judging by their glum demeanor, they didn't have healers strong enough to mend broken bones within minutes. When they returned to the main encampment, they could only hasten the healing by a week at most.

So fragile, always in a rush, yet so slow in other things, Prometheus mused. If he was still an Amaurotine, he could've healed that with barely a thought. Now... well, dragons weren't very well versed in healing magic.

"One person with a broken arm, Hades," Prometheus reported, clearly in high spirits. He was thoroughly enjoying their little adventure, "You can heal that easily, right?"

“Hm? Sure, easy,” he said, looking up from where he was pretending to sort through his bags. He walked over towards the injured man, picking up someone’s walking staff on the way causing some alarm. It didn’t last long as he stopped short before the injured and cast a potent little healing spell.

The alarm faded quickly into quiet elation. Hades set the walking stick aside and placed his hands on the man’s arm, gently turning it over to test it, he also didn’t heal often, but he could stick things back together for sure. The man sat up, grasping his hands. He had never seen such healing magic before clearly.

“Have you been sent by Azim, mysterious travelers?” He asked, and Hades had to bite his lip. Now that was an idea.

He gave Prom an “I’ll do the talking,” sort of look.

“Not merely sent. We travel incognito for now, however.” It helped that Hades spoke like he was from their great-grandparents generation despite looking as young as he did.

Edited 2019-12-01 21:54 (UTC)

Prometheus smiled at the interaction, tho he was mildly puzzled by the content. Who was Azim? Oh, was the steppe named after a deity of sorts? Oh, hm, that's interesting. Then the religion must predate them settling here? Unless the steppe was renamed after aggressive religious conversion...

He mulled over this, as Hades did the sweet talking, utterly unaware of the direction Hades was taking it.

The others looked shocked, but were leery of those who spoke aloud. Lies, they could tell, and lies they often did.

“Prove it,” one of the men signed.

“Hmm,” Hades tapped his jaw before stepping back a bit. He began to morph into a dragon, though this one was a clever golden color adorned with locally styled jewelry, fur, and fine cloth.

The man who questioned him dropped his weapon, then dropped to his knees.

Prometheus tuned back in when Hades transformed into a dragon, and looked about wildly wondering what he had missed. No weapons being waved about so this wasn't for intimidation...

Well... if Hades transformed into a dragon, then Prometheus can too, right? Right! Of course! So, after making sure he wouldn't accidentally squash anyone with a stray limb, he shook off Hades's glamour and transformed too. In stark contrast to Hades's golden scales, his black scales, shimmering with a purplish pink sheen, stood out.

"Hades," Prometheus said in Amaurotine, as the gathered Xaela gasped anew. One looked like they were going to have a heart attack, which worried him, "Uh, what're we doing?"

“We’re their gods now,” Hades said, conjuring flower vestments for Prometheus. Hades flexed and fluttered his enormous wings as the gathered tried to just believe their eyes.

“Azim, of the sun. And Nhaama, of the moon. That’s you,” he said back in Amaurotine, fixing Prometheus’ flower crown with a wing claw. “Anyway, you shouldn’t need to stay cooped up in a Xaela form too many more times.”

“Our Gods, what can we do, how may we please you?” one asked.

Hades looked to Prometheus. “Well?”

"Uh, oh, stars, you've put me on the spot now," Prometheus flustered, unsure on what to do with all this focused attention. There was some fear there, the fear of someone more powerful than you existing in your midst, but there was also excitement and awe and fascination. These tiny little humans, Xaela, whoever... they reminded Prometheus of little children, gasping in delight at simple Creation magic...

"Well... I'm kinda hungry..." he muttered under his breath, then told Hades in Amaurotine, since he seemed to be their spokesperson, "I want, like, a food offering, a big one. The size of a cow at least. I'm starving."

“Bring us a dzo for my Nhaama, and I will clear away the pack so that you can return home safely.”

The hunting party was reinvigorated by this, including the one how had broken his arm was up and ready. They signed fervently that it would be done, and they would not be kept waiting. They then added that Prometheus was beautiful, and they were graced to do this for her. They rushed off towards the herd of dzo in the distance.

“Don’t way too much too fast again,” he warned. “So...Shall we?” Hades asked, tilting his head in the direction of the vicious beasts.

"Sure!" Prometheus chirped, spreading his wings out wide. He took flight, his powerful wings launching him up. Luckily, this pack wasn't far, so it only took a few wing beats before he paused to hover over them, eyeing the large cat-like creatures roaming the ground.

"They look like sabre-toothed tigers," he mused, "Well, easy pickings, I suppose. Let's go, Hades!"

With that, Prometheus tucked his wings in close and dived. He crashed into the midst of the pack with enough force it kicked up dirt, grass, and one unfortunate sabre-toothed tiger. Prometheus's happy roar of delight swiftly followed.

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