RD-03 

 

Chapter 5:  Humanity 

The Occultists, borne on an Aerialist created gusts of wind that sped up their travel, arrived at a scene of titanic carnage.  Hundreds of pieces of humans lay scattered about.  Sean, The Great White Earth Dragon of Lust, had collapsed over the breach in the walls of the House of The Young, his final act of the battle, sealing it closed with his body.  In his right hand, he maintained a death grip on Death, who was now quite dead.  At Warla the Warlord's direction, the army swarmed over Sean, packing his wounds with the soft earth used to blockade and make a wall of the House of the Young.  Other parts of the army hacked Death to pieces to make absolutely sure it was dead.  The remainder treated the wounded and brought supplies.  

Twilight had to be coaxed and pried away from Sean; she wanted to help but was eventually convinced to rest.  After all, while they only had one Dragon, it was also true that they only had one Dragon-Rider; she couldn't be risked.  Warla and her lieutenants were alerted by the arrival of Gerard, the Occultist Battlemaster, Jafaar, Arch-Terramancer, and Radiant, Deputy-Arch-Aerialist.   

The first thing Warla said, "I've had the Dragon's wounds treated like a human's, by packing them with soft dirt.  It seems to be working.  However, there is a wound on the Dragon's left leg that is too deep for this first aid method, and too large for us to provide enough pressure to staunch the flow of blood.  Do you have Occultists that can assist with this wound?"  Gerard blinked with surprise.  Radiant and Jafaar were too winded from using transportation magic to yet participate in this conversation.  

Gerard asked, "Where is Warlord Julius?"  Warla answered impatiently, "Slain and consumed by the Titan Death," she pointed at Death's corpse. "I am Warla, the new Warlord.  Do you have Occultists that can assist with our Dragon's wound?"  Gerard blinked again and processed the situation.  He glanced at Warla's two lieutenants, Biggs and Wedge, who subtly nodded in Warla's direction, confirming that yes, this unranked, unhelmeted young woman was now in charge.   

Gerard's posture became more respectful and he replied, "Understood.  Radiant, tell the Arch-Druid Mosser to heal the wounds of the dragon and to spare no expense."   

"Understood, sir," the newly promoted Radiant ran off, eager to prove himself and make his deputy position permanent.  Gerard indicated Jafaar, who had his hands on his knees and was still catching his breath.   

"As you probably already know, Warla the Warlord, I'm Gerard the Occultist Battlemaster.  This is Jafaar, the Arch-Terramancer and," he glanced at Jafaar for confirmation, "Bare-Earth Terramancy specialist."  Jafaar nodded in confirmation.  Gerard's eyes opened wide as he radiated awe, only just now realizing the weight of his next words, "Prince Edward, Occultist Prime, is dead.  Jafaar summoned the Dragon.  He is now Occultist Prime.  Humanity now follows the Path of the Earth."   

Gerard's awe spread to Warla.  The army's Warlord and the Occultist's Battlemaster were roughly the same rank.  But the Occultist Prime was more of a religious leader and led the direction of Humanity's culture and progress, placing him on the level of the Royalty, or some would say, above.   

Warla quickly genuflected, "I apologize, Occultist Prime.  I am not educated in the values of the Earth and don't even know how to address you."   

Jafaar waved it off, still catching his breath, "Equality...and Mercy...just call me Jafaar...by the Dragon, girl...tell us what happened already...and how we can help."   

Warla had spoken to those who had eyes on the situation from the start and survived and was able to recount the entire story.  No one knows how or why the titans discovered the secret location of the House of the Young, but it happened.  The former Warlord decided to try to save the young, even though the Occultists were away and thus there was little chance of success.  At first, it was just Anthrax and War digging out the House, and the army thought it could press in with numbers and surround the tree with a ring of pikes.  But it was a trap; Death, Pestilence, and Famine flanked the army which was soon slaughtered and routed.  The survivors retreated into tree hollows and fortified, the titans soon lost interest and went back to digging into the House of the Young.  The remainder of the army could only watch as the Titans made progress demolishing the dirt blockade.  Then, without sound or warning, Twilight and her Dragon swooped out of the sky at a speed too fast to follow, dealing a mighty blow to Anthrax, the Destroyer, one that sent him into the sky, then sent him running.  

"Anthrax the Destroyer defeated in one blow..." Gerard repeated in awe.   

"Sean, the Great White Earth Dragon of Lust is as wise as it is powerful," Jafaar explained, "it knew which Titan was the biggest threat and used its most devastating attack on it at once."  The others nodded in awe; if the Occultist Prime declared it so, then must be true.   

"So, Sean is the name of our Dragon..." Warla said, and they all turned to look and confirm that it was still breathing.  As they watched, soldiers pulled all the dirt out of the leg wound at once. Before it could gush too much blood, the Arch-Druid Mosser disrobed, revealing the luminescent antibiotic moss that covered its skin.  It backed into the wound, casting a great spell, then all of its skin detached and came off at once, filling in the wound and replacing the missing flesh with faintly luminescent blue-green moss.  

"It looks like it worked..." Gerard stated, sighing in relief.  Two Druid Mossers pulled chunks of moss from their skin to try and save the skinless, unconscious Arch-Mosser, muttering lesser versions of the same spell.  The rest of the Mossers poured over the Dragon with the help of soldiers identifying and treating the wounds in order of severity.   

"Well, that was impressive," commented Jafaar, who had finally caught his breath. "I hope Sam survives to watch the Druid Mossers climb in popularity and demand after this."   

"If the Dragon survives," Gerard added, grimly.   

"The Dragon is so large and struggled so fiercely, that the Titans could only deal superficial damage. If it were a human with similar battlefield injuries," Warla thought for a second. "If it survives today's blood loss, it'll recover with food and rest in a month or so."   

Gerard looked to Jafaar, who shrugged and said, "I trust the Warlord's judgment. It is a Human Dragon. But it needs food and water like anyone else, in order to survive and recover."   

Warla immediately sent for fresh food and water for the Dragon, then continued recounting the day's events.  Warla reported that the alien-looking Dragon didn't appear to have natural weapons such as fangs or claws, and no one reported seeing it breathe fire or shoot lightning.  Not that it needed any of those gimmicks; its raw strength was immeasurable. When Famine bit Princess Dawn's leg, the Dragon saved her by ripping apart Famine's jaw, causing her to flee.  Those that witnessed this reported that the wound appeared grievous, even for a highly durable Titan.  With this, the element of surprise was lost, and the remaining three Titans attacked together.  Princess Twilight and her Dragon put up a fierce struggle, but they were too outnumbered and the Dragon took many wounds.   

"At this point, the army charged the Titan War in order to assist the Dragon."   

"Warlord Warla charged War and the army followed," Lieutenant Biggs corrected.  

"Which is why she is now Warlord," Lieutenant Wedge agreed.   

"I can't think of a more noble ascension to Warlord in history," Gerard agreed. "Warlord Warla has my full support.  Please continue."   

Warla, chest and fur puffed a bit more in pride, went on to explain how she led the army to make a barrier of fur and steel between War and her sisters, to try to relieve the pressure on the Dragon so it could take the offensive.  It worked.   

"By the time War broke through our lines, taking many wounds to the legs in the process, the Dragon had defeated both Pestilence and Death simultaneously.  There are reports that the Dragon witnessed Death kill a whelp during the struggle, went into a rage, and took flight, bringing both Titans into the sky.  Then..." Warla pointed to twin blood spots on the tree of the House of the Young, one much larger than the other.  In a quieter, awed voice Warla continued, "I lack the words to describe how magnificent and terrifying our Dragon was as it roared and crushed Death and Pestilence against the tree with blows mighty enough to shake the Earth and knock soldiers from their feet.  The Dragon struck the attacking Titan, War, with the body of Pestilence, who took her wounded sister and fled to safety.  We cannot confirm Pestilence is dead...but it seemed it.  I doubt she will be a threat ever again, even if she survives.  The Dragon then...executed Death, before plugging the breach in the House of the Young with his body." Warla paused, thinking of what next to say, "Princess Dawn is injured but is thought to be likely to survive.  Princess Twilight is merely exhausted and resting. I prioritized treating the wounds of the Dragon, then making sure Death was dead, and then treating our wounded."  As she spoke, the soldiers finished the macabre task of removing Death's head from her body, which collapsed gracelessly to the forest floor.   

"Death is dead," Jaafar confirmed, "Butcher it and feed it to the Dragon, along with all of our dead. Anything the Dragon doesn't consume immediately should be dried and preserved.  Their whiskers can receive a burial, but the rest must be used as food. Good work." 

"...Seriously?" Warla asked, shocked.   

"Seriously," Jafaar confirmed, and Gerard nodded grimly in agreement. "Now that we have a Dragon, Humanity's top priority is feeding that Dragon.  Be grateful that our dragon is a Dragon of Lust and not Gluttony, Blood, or Suffering. We were very lucky." 

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As Sean's eyes cracked open, he heard, "My Dragon!  You live!" then he felt soft paws and fur as Princess Twilight leaped to his shoulder and gave his face a hug, wrapping her tail around his face. It felt nice, and he appreciated the distraction from the taste of watery gruel in his mouth and the sting of many healing wounds.  He moved to scratch an itch, but to his alarm, found he couldn't move his hands.  His eyes flashed open and he saw some sort of wooden structure in front of his face, and two smaller ones holding his hands pinned to the Earth.   

"Be calm, my Dragon, be calm,"  Twilight said in a reassuring voice, fluffy blue tail slowly stroking his face.  He had to admit that her actions were, in fact, quite calming.  She continued, speaking gently, "We didn't want you turning over in your sleep and killing somebody or re-opening your wounds, so we tied your arms and legs in place.  I'll have the engineers release you immediately."  She waved to squirrels he couldn't see and he immediately felt the grip on his hands loosen.  "We did not know if you would awaken in three days, three months, or not at all, so we built a fortified city around you as fast as we could.  We wanted to protect you until you recovered, or make a monument here if you did not.  We also needed to defend the House of the Young now that the location has been discovered.  Ummm...can you understand me?"  Sean nodded.  "Whoa, whoa!  Please be careful Great Dragon!  The smallest movements of yours could crush one of us mere humans.  If I were to fall from your shoulder right now, I may die."  Sean held perfectly still and devoted a part of his brain to being aware of Princess Twilight's location at all times.  "You moved...are you trying to communicate?"   

"Yes?" Sean answered, and she cringed.   

Twilight cowered, "Please forgive me great Dragon!  I think you are speaking to me but I only hear a mighty wordless roar!"  It didn't make Sean happy to scare her like this and now he was scared of her falling.  With his newly freed hands, he ever so slowly and carefully cupped his hands around Twilight and lifted her to the safety of the hair on top of his head.   

"Whoa!  Whoa!  Oh, I'm back on top!  You accept me as your rider!  Woooo Hooo!!"  Princess Twilight cheered.  Sean smiled at her childlike joy.  He gave her a moment to secure herself with her black Dragon-Rider armor, then experimented with a slow nod.  She didn't seem to get it.  

"So you can hear me, even though you have no Whiskers?  But you can't talk? Is that it?"  Sean said "yes" as quietly as he could.  "I'm sorry, Sean.  I only hear a soft hissing roar."  Sean tried thinking at her telepathically, but nothing happened.  He pointed to his head with a finger.  "You?  Your head?"  Twilight guessed.  That's good, Sean thought. Countless things could now be communicated because pointing was understood. He nodded his head but got no reaction.  He moved his finger up and down and then nodded his head, and the clever young princess seemed to figure it out.   

"Your finger, up and down.  Your head moves up and down.  Does that mean something?"  He nodded. "Does up and down mean yes?"  she asked, getting excited.  He nodded. "Then what is no?"  He shook his finger side to side, then followed the motion with his head.  "Is up and down yes, and side to side no?"  He nodded.   

"OK let's test this...Is the sky blue?"  Sean had no idea. He held his head still. "No answer? Maybe you're a very literal and serious Dragon that won't answer because he cannot currently see the sky."  Sean thought about nodding to this but chose not to. This was frustrating. "Let's try something else. Am I blue?"  Sean nodded. She was a few colors and blue was one of them.  

"Oops, I'm several colors.  Bad choice.  Let's see...I'm not yellow.  Am I yellow?"  He shook his head no.  "Am I also purple?"  He nodded yes.  "Am I also green?"  (No.)  "Magenta, on my feet?"  (Yes.)  "Uh...grey.  Am I grey?" (No.)  "Is my name Twilight?"  (Yes.)  "Is your name Sean?" (Yes.)  As far as he could tell.  "Is my name Sean?"  He wasn't sure if she had more names, but went ahead and decided to say no.  "Is your name Twilight?" (No.)  "OK, OK, that's enough.  Great progress.  Can you understand every last thing I'm saying?"  (Yes).  "Wonderful!  Umm... are you hungry or thirsty?"  (Yes.) "I'll fix that then!  Hmm. If I unhook real quick, would you put me on the ground, please, then wait here?" (Yes.)  

Sean did just that.  She ran off on two legs to do something and he examined his surroundings.  A miniature fortified town had popped into existence in a semi-circle around him and the tree.  A field of wooden and metal spikes, facing in every direction, ringed the perimeter of the town.  Soldiers could easily move between the barriers, but he guessed that a Titan that tried to walk on or make a swipe in that field would hurt itself.  There was a wide-open path out of the town directly in front of him clear of buildings or fortifications, and beyond that what appeared to be a multilayered, spikey gate being constructed on the perimeter.  He supposed that this was meant to be his own entrance and exit since he could easily step over it.  Throughout the town were foot-long spikes facing straight into the air, obviously meant to impale a Titan that dared hop over the outer defenses.  He would have to be careful not to step on them himself.   

The defenses already seemed complete, while the construction of many other buildings and things were still mostly piles of materials.  He had a decent semi-circle of open space around himself, large enough to sleep in if he curled up a bit, and certainly large enough to stretch his legs while sitting. He carefully pushed the wheeled structure that had been used as a staircase and pulley system to feed him while unconscious, waited for all the squirrels left in his circle to scurry away, then stretched out his legs.  He noticed that the scabs on his legs and arms were glowing a soft, luminescent blue-green.   

The entire population of the town, perhaps a thousand squirrels working on construction and protecting the perimeter, also noticed his movement, freezing and becoming silent in anticipation.  A royal procession veered into the main lane and turned in his direction.  A wooden and metal chariot, upon which were fancy, ornamental designs in gold, carried several well-dressed squirrels.  White albino rats dressed in clean white linen clothes were harnessed into the chariot and pulled it while on all fours.  An honor guard of large, halberd-bearing soldiers in full plate armor jogged along beside.  Soldiers from the perimeter moved in towards the center, urging every member of the town in front of them.  Soon, a thousand metallic blue squirrels prostrated themselves in a semi-circle around Sean.   

He pulled himself off of the soft dirt he rested against and stood at his full height, stretching. Then he sat cross-legged in the middle.  The squirrels from the chariot stood up and addressed him.  He could almost understand it.  He laid on his stomach, supporting his head on his left hand, in a posture he would come to think of as "Royal Receiving".  His face was now close enough to hear the squirrels talk, but his approach seemed to terrify all but Jafar and Twilight.  Twilight's colors were distinctive, and now she wore a white dress that wrapped around her tail with white lace making her particularly recognizable.  He recognized Jafaar's crimson red robe and grey muzzle; he was the squirrel leading things when Sean was summoned.  Three more squirrels disembarked from the chariot; one in fancy silver and gold ornamental armor that matched the designs on the chariot, one in a rich purple robe with a staff of office, and one in regular plate armor, but with various decorative ribbons tied to its tail.   

"He's just coming closer so he can hear us, I think," Twilight commented.  Sean nodded.  "That means yes!"  Twilight declared proudly.  He shook his head, nodded a finger, and shook a finger, deciding to establish those finger movements as well so he wouldn't have to get dizzy nodding and shaking all day.  As a reward for explaining everything correctly, he reached down and gently stroked Princess Twilight with one finger, head to tail, similar to how he had seen others comfort the terrified runner when he had been summoned.   

Twilight beamed and declared, "I think he likes me!"  He nodded yes with a finger.   

"The bond between Dragon and Dragon-Rider.  Or is it Dragon and Bride?"  Jafaar said, waggling his whiskers suggestively.   

"Uncle!" Twilight whiskered embarrassment.  Sean smiled. More like the bond between man and cute, fluffy squirrel, he thought. And comrade, he corrected himself, remembering they had fought side by side.   

"It is so terribly fearsome with its size and battle wounds, yet it also seems intelligent and kind," remarked the squirrel in silver and gold armor, "Truly, it is one of the Dragons of legend in the flesh.  I cannot imagine a Dragon to look like anything else, in my mind."  Sean chuckled at this, causing the squirrels to flinch at his roar.   

Twilight, still happily being pet by Sean's finger, said, "Brother, it's a "he" not an "it".  He also understands everything you're saying, so ..." Sean stopped petting Twilight and signaled a (Yes) with his finger.   

The squirrel in ornamental armor tried to play it off, "Ahem.  Great Dragon Sean, I am Rafael, sec-...first prince of the Southern Kingdom of Humanity.  You know Jafaar and Twilight, I believe.  This is Weems, First Advisor to the king," he gestured to the squirrel in a purple robe with a staff of office, who gave an awkward, terrified bow, "and this is Gaston, Warden and Captain of the Guard of this city, which we have taken the liberty to name "Sean's Respite." Gaston had collected himself and now gave off an air of unshakeable faith, similar to Jafaar.  He bowed.   

Rafael continued, "We did not know that you would rise again today, or else the king himself would be here to greet you. However, First Advisor Weems and I, First Prince Rafael, are authorized to offer you, The Great White Earth Dragon of Lust Sean, the undying loyalty of Humanity."  It seemed a bit too formal for a finger wag, so Sean gave it a deep nod and said, "Alright."   

What followed was a tedious conversation in which there were many (Yes)'s and (No)'s.  Sean wished he had a better way to communicate but couldn't think of a better way to do it on the spot.  He figured he could try to develop more sign language with Twilight later.  The conversation established that Twilight's royal duties were suspended so that she could become his personal attendant and be ready to communicate his will or ride him into battle if necessary.  Gaston was his contact in regards to the defense and design of "his" city and would defer to Sean's wisdom and preferences on the matter.  Gaston promised that the city would expand and give Sean room to fully stretch and lay down, just as soon as the resources were available. Sean only then realized that if not for this mutually beneficial arrangement, he would have to sleep on the forest floor, vulnerable to having his throat bit out by a Titan/cabbit.  Weems was introduced as his "liaison to the Royals," whatever that meant.  Rafael promised a regular tribute of rare fruits and metals, and the idea of sleeping on a pile of treasure made Sean feel like a Dragon, indeed.   

An ancient ornate wooden bowl was brought in, along with a stone pedestal upon which it was mounted.  Rafael declared it the solemn duty of Humankind to always keep this bowl of food full and promised that in time, they would learn and adapt to the Dragon's tastes. Sean gave the fresh, steaming broth a try.  It was full of mushrooms, onion, and a sort of bean paste that tasted like miso; delicious.  The meat was gamey but tender, and it could use a bit more salt, but if this was "the first try" then things were looking up for Sean's mealtimes.  The only issue was that the bowl was tiny, fitting in one hand and making up only one big mouthful.  Sean thought about being grateful and not complaining but realized that if he didn't eat more (a lot more) then he wouldn't have the strength to defend himself and the squirrel people.  

Charades seemed to work pretty well, and he indicated that he wanted a much bigger bowl.  A visibly nervous Rafael agreed to this demand immediately and sent soldiers running to notify the engineers and craftsman. Weems explained that the defense budget would be cut and redirected to the Dragon's food budget, in the hopes that Sean would, if it was ok with his Majesty the Great Dragon, take up duties of national defense and protect the Kingdoms of Humanity.  Sean briefly considered the alternative of sleeping alone in the dark forest, eating bugs, frogs, and spiders, versus defending the soft, fluffy, and likable squirrels in exchange for infinite miso soup, and decided to accept the deal that was being, ever so politely, offered.  

To sweeten the deal, it was mentioned that Sean's soon-to-be-growing harem of pleasure whelps was waiting on standby to attend to his needs.  Sean rolled his eyes at that part, but still accepted the deal happily.  All thousand squirrels seemed relieved that this deal had been struck; national defense had been the heart of the matter, after all, it seems.  As a thousand squirrels went back to work on "Sean's" city, he was told that he could continue to recline on the soft dirt piled up at the base of The House of the Young; it had been fortified from within to act as a sort of throne.  This worked for Sean; that dirt was cool and comfortable.   

And so, Sean himself became enshrined in the city of "Sean's Respite".  Twilight waited on him most of the day, and her adorable, limping sister, Dawn, took her place while Twilight rested. Dawn might have been his single most devoted follower, having been personally saved from the jaws of a Titan by the Dragon himself.  She offered to be Cut and become his personal pleasure-whelp, but he assured her that it wasn't necessary.  He had more than he needed already.  

As soon as he returned to his soft earth throne, a cage with four, familiar, fluffy young squirrels was wheeled in. They looked depressed to Sean, putting their heads together in the middle of the cage like sleeping bunnies.  But when the cage door opened and a squirrel in black leather began to beat a drum with the handle of a mean-looking whip, the four fluffy blue squirrels came to life and began dancing.  Sean expressed concern over the missing whelp (there had been 5 the first time he had met them) and she was immediately found and retrieved (to the dismay of a certain Path of Occultists.)   

Sean was reluctant at first, but Twilight convinced him that he needed to allow the pleasure whelps to Fluff him to completion, as "sanctifying the earth with his seed" was, in fact, the final step in the summoning ritual.  Not wanting to suddenly start shrinking or growing again, he closed his eyes, leaned back, and let it happen; it did, in fact, feel wonderful.  But that pleasure was tainted by the sight of the pleasure whelps being marched back to their cage and taken away.  He did not understand what was really happening, but he did not like it one bit.  He decided that, if he could, he would do something about it.  If the God-Dragon-Emperor-whatever couldn't do something, no one could.  He also tried not to think about what the squirrels were going to do with "his seed" when they cleaned it up and took it away.   

The first time he left to use the bathroom was an ordeal.  He did not want to poop in front of one thousand squirrels, and he couldn't easily communicate his needs, so he just got up and went for a walk in the woods. It broke his heart a little bit when Princess Twilight, dressed in her riding gear and with tears in her eyes, waited for him at the entrance of the town, along with many nervous squirrels. He decided not to engage them about it because he wanted him going to the bathroom to be no big deal.  No dice.  An expedition of squirrels, to his great embarrassment, had gone out and discovered the meaning behind his trip into the woods.  After arguing with Twilight about it for a while, she went and got Jafaar for backup.   

Jafaar did some research and found a little-known passage in the Tomes of the Earth about negotiating exactly this with a Dragon. He came with Twilight and a gift of gold and gems, explaining how the largest known Pride of Titans was seven strong, and wouldn't it be inconvenient if he were attacked alone, away from help, during his most vulnerable moments, simply because he was trying to do the right thing and protect his people from his toxic waste?  What if he ran and got lost in the woods with no one to guide him?  In the end, Sean agreed to go a short distance behind the visual cover of the great tree that was his throne and contained the young he protected.  He took Princess Twilight along as well; her magic might be all the distraction he needed to escape from an ambush.  To her credit, she was quiet and respectful during the ordeal.    

Sean felt like he had an insight into the purpose of a Dragon's hoard; it gave him shiny things to look at while he was stuck, sitting in one spot, all day long for days. He was just meant to sit and guard over a growing population of squirrels, and he got the impression that after they got used to him, they found his gaze reassuring. He could almost feel the expanding city breathe a sigh of relief when he got back from one of his bathroom break "patrols" as if fearing a pride of Titans would attack in the brief time that their god-guardian was absent.  

He enjoyed watching the city take shape, greatly impressed at how industrious and technologically advanced the squirrel's civilization was. They had forges, tanneries, butchers, farmers, alchemists, hunters, cloth makers, and crafty engineers utilizing simple machinery that provided leverage and power for construction. Sean judged them more advanced than human medieval society and was impressed at the practical decisions that were made, such as hoarding iron but throwing away useless, shiny metals (such as gold) into his hoard. They created a much more modern bowl for him, held in a metal and wood frame on wheels. There were slow-burning fires underneath to keep his meat and vegetable soup warm. He was also given strips of salty jerky which went excellently with the soup.  

He only wished for bread or rice to help quell his never-ending hunger, but grains were nowhere to be found in squirrel society. Instead, there was only meat and vegetables. The forest provided; full-time professional hunters seemed able to hunt anything and everything around, while farmers harvested vegetables grown within the city limits. The vegetables were large compared to the bodies of the squirrels, as Sean would expect, but smaller than he would expect compared to his own body as if he were somewhat oversized. 

 

 

RD-04 

 

When he had first asked for a bigger bowl, Prince Rafael had whispered to Jafaar, "Wasn't the old bowl big enough for Dragons of old?"  

Jafar answered with, "The Dragons of old weren't quite this...huge. Keep in mind that a smaller Dragon could not have defeated five Titans." There were no further complaints.  

Jafaar seemed to be elevated further in status every day; as the summoner of the Dragon that protected Humanity and the foremost scholar on this Dragon and its needs, Jafaar was given quite a retinue of guards and assistants. There were suddenly many crimson-robed Terramancers around (as well as green-robed Druidic Mossers, wanting nothing more than the privilege of healing the Dragon's wounds). Jafaar could be pompous and long-winded, but he spoke more frankly to Sean than the others and didn't seem afraid of Sean at all, fully trusting in his Dragon's benevolence.  

Sean decided that Jafaar was his second favorite squirrel, after the loyal, cheerful Princess Twilight. She always hooted like a loon when she got to go for a ride, even though it was just to the bathroom. She watched what the pleasure-whelps did with their fluffy tails with an embarrassing level of curiosity, and kept dropping hints that she would be willing to do the same as his bride. He ignored this to the best of his ability. The little limpy blue fluffball that was Dawn was far less subtle; he had to rescue his junk from her affections on multiple occasions. He did this by picking her up in one hand and petting her with the other until she fell into a blissful sleep, safe in the arms of her loving god.  

During the weeks he spent resting and healing, he spent lots and lots of time with Princess Twilight. They developed a form of sign language that became more complex every day. Princess Twilight was girly and cute, with a bit of a tomboy streak. Sean enjoyed listening to her talk about the things she enjoyed. She seemed youthfully naive, believing everything the elders ever told her without question. She also seemed to rely exclusively on whiskered emotion to understand those around her. Those two facts created a disturbing mentality towards those that Sean thought of as "the slaves".  

The white albino rats, called "Neanderthals", were thought of as unintelligent animals, not on the same level of sentience as "humans" (squirrels). This was because they could express emotion but not speak, despite having whiskers. Sean could only barely feel Whiskered emotion, and only from Twilight when she was directly on top of his head. But he was quickly able to read squirrel emotion from body language; the way the whiskers and tail moved, especially, but also eyes, head, posture, everything else. It wasn't difficult. To his eyes, the albino white rats were very intelligent looking, especially the first one he saw that had pled for him to spare it with its eyes, before being disemboweled to feed the summoning ritual.  

They lived stark lives as physical laborers, but weren't abused, since the abuser would be forced to feel unpleasant negative emotions radiated from the upset Neanderthal. Sean didn't like to watch the white rats in bondage, working the fields, but he had to admit that they were treated far better than any slaves from his world. He thus decided, along with the fact that he couldn't begin to understand the complications of a real inter-species interaction, that the Neanderthals were a lower priority social-ill, and may not even be a problem at all. After all, they worked for a living and in exchange received food, water, shelter, and the company of their own. He even saw some of their Masters being outright kind and affectionate with them, as one would to a favored beast of burden like a horse.  

The social ill that concerned Sean more were the "clipped" ones. No one was cruel enough to clip the whiskers of a Neanderthal, so why were they willing to cut and disfigure their own? The criminals he could understand. He was surprised that crimes such as murder, rape, and assault could exist among a species with forced empathy for one another. But for whatever reason, it did. There was only one punishment in squirrel land; the cutting of whiskers. The more serious the crime, the more whiskers that were cut, creating a publicly viewable brand of shame and a sort of limit to the number of crimes you could commit.  

Once your last whisker was cut, you lost your membership in society and were seen as a dumb animal, beneath even the Neanderthals. Cut off from being able to hear and feel emotions of others, as well as talk and send their own, both for the first time in their lives, the condemned languished in the streets, no longer a threat to anyone. Former friends and family had no problem shooing them along or even killing them if they were a nuisance. Again, he could understand this. It was a harsh medieval world, and thus justice was harsh. He didn't even think it was that harsh. Sure, it was as horribly cruel an execution as possible to lose all your whiskers, but it took a lot to get there. Something small like stealing or brawling was punished by the loss of only a single whisker. Even murderers got a second chance if they had never done wrong before, as the punishment for murder was the removal of all whiskers but one. It was the squirrel version of "an eye for an eye" and if it worked, it worked.  

It was the pleasure-whelps that greatly disturbed Sean. What could those children have done to deserve losing all their whiskers and gaining a life of slavery and abuse? Maybe they cannibalized other children in the House of the Young, beneath his throne? At first there were only his 5 in town, but as Nobles and Royals began to move into his city, he soon saw more. They were made to dance, to do other, humiliating things, raped, and tortured, in full sight of everyone, and receiving nothing worse in reaction than bored curiosity. The only people showing them kindness were the Neanderthals, of all things. He hated having to see this in his city and every time he did, it fed into a growing, draconic rage. He didn't know what happened to "pleasure-adults" but he sure didn't see any, and his guesses only fed his rage further.  

The last straw came when he was enjoying the attentions of his own pleasure-whelps. He tried to pet one, but as always, it would just pet him back. So, he trapped it between his hands and held it there until it finally stopped trying to pleasure him and calmed down. Then he petted it, as gently and kindly as possible, in the strokes from head to tail that seemed to calm all squirrels. As he did it again tried to fight back and pet him in return. He thought of the pleasure-whelps he had seen on the estates of the rich, "petting" their masters with their fluffy tails for hours until they passed out from exhaustion, sometimes pissing themselves in the process. He kept cupping the squirrel until it stopped trying to pet him as it finally got the message. As he petted it, it began to shudder and then cry.  

"Uh-oh, I think that one's malfunctional," Twilight commented from where she was resting in his hair, "I'm sure we can replace it right away for you." Sean didn't think so. He kept petting the whelp, trying to express love and good will through his body language since he had no whiskers with which to express it directly. It continued to cry and rubbed its face on his hand affectionately. "Weird," was all Twilight had to say about this.  

One of the other pleasure-whelps, currently dancing, noticed this exchange and paused to watch. The leather-clad Keeper of the Whelps, stopped banging his drum and barked a command, causing all the whelps, including the one in Sean's hand, to take a position bent over, head on the ground, tail on head, sensitive parts beneath the tail held up and exposed to the air. The keeper used his whip and mercilessly struck the whelp who had paused mid-dance right beneath the tail, causing it to scream, cry, writhe in agony, but always reset to the submissive position afterwards.  

"Don't worry," Twilight said, watching him watch the scene, "it has no whiskers so it has no mind, no soul. It can't feel anything, like an animal. It's just reacting on instinct." There was so much wrong with that statement that Sean didn't know where to begin. He was mad enough to breathe fire. He had to remind himself that Princess Twilight was not the problem here, that she wasn't wearing her riding armor, and that he should always stay calm and move slowly around the tiny, fragile squirrels. He carefully put down the whelp he was holding, which rolled over on its side like a broken toy. Then he caught the whip and took it from the Keeper, stinging his finger in the process. He decided he had no right to complain, as the whelp in front of him had it worse, literally bleeding from the butt and genitals. The Keeper looked startled, confused, and terrified, which was the only thing that saved it from being grabbed by Sean next. It had no idea what it had even done wrong.  

(No more pleasure-whelps, today. No more punish pleasure-whelps.) Sean communicated this to Twilight, who translated his sign language and relayed the message to the Keeper. Beating the drum with his hand, the Keeper quickly gathered the whelps and had the cage taken away. Twilight could tell Sean was angry, perhaps from how red or hot his face was, or the violent way he made hand signs. Sean refused to talk about it and instead sent her off to retrieve Jafaar at once.  

Jafaar seemed to understand that something was up. Instead of waiting at the "Royal Receiving Area" for Sean to stretch out to greet him, he instead left his retinue there and came directly to Sean, unbidden. "I live only to serve you, Great One," Jafaar said, going full squirrel bow, head and tail flat on the ground. This calmed Sean a little bit. He liked Jafaar and Jafaar's perfect composure around himself. When Jafaar stood back up, he began to sign.  

Now, Jafaar was as sharp as squirrels get, obviously a relative of the equally sharp Princess Twilight. But he also had an intellect honed by a lifetime of reading, researching, teaching, writing. He picked up the sign language that Sean and Twilight developed just as fast as they created it and Twilight could teach him.  

(Pleasure whelps, why? Pleasure whelps sad. Pleasure whelps pain. Pleasure whelps no life. Why? Why?) As was necessary, since the signing was still limited but Sean's own ability to listen and understand was near perfect, Jafaar would now repeat back what he thought Sean had said and get a confirmation.  

"Why are innocent whelps mutilated and condemned to a bleak, short life of suffering? Is that what you're asking, Sean?" Princess Twilight's eyes went wide and she started to say something. Both Jafaar, now radiating some (refreshing) rage himself, and Sean, shushed her at the same time. To Twilight's shock, Sean agreed to all of it with a simple (Yes).  

"Because it is a tradition of the Path of the Air, which has guided humanity into a hierarchal society for hundreds of years," Jafaar answered. "However, now that your Greatness and myself have risen to influence, I will be able to guide us towards the Path of the Earth, a simple, non-hierarchal society that focuses on equality, mercy, and worshipping our Dragon. No whiskers will ever be cut again, for any reason. Unfortunately, these changes will come far too late for many pleasure-whelps and many others yet to become pleasure-whelps. If you don't like it..." Jafaar paused meaningfully, looking Sean straight in the eye, "Then I suggest you do something about it." A heavy pause. 

He softened a bit after this. "Humanity benefits from both your power and your wisdom, after all. If you're curious to learn all there is to know about pleasure-whelps, you need only follow the covered wagon that drives around to the back of the House of the Young once a week." With that, Jafaar turned and left, before being dismissed.  

"Great Dragon Sean, please forgive my uncle for acting this way. He is a great man but has unusual beliefs..." He hushed her and dismissed her for the day. He knew that covered wagon. He spent all his time watching his city and knew a great deal about it. It would come by tomorrow. Until then, he ate extravagantly, counted his treasure, and brooded. 

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Princess Twilight was glad that Sean seemed to be in a better mood, today. The day before she was worried that he would burn her uncle Jafaar to a crisp. But today, he seemed back to normal. He even cuddled and petted her, which was rare. Twilight was always jealous when Dawn bragged about how much Sean played with her soft, downy whelp's fur and snuggled her next to his face. Was Twilight not pretty enough for Sean? Did he prefer Dawn's pale blue to her own magenta to purple gradient? Was Twilight just too old? She was in that awkward stage where she already had her sleek, metallic adult's fur, but wasn't yet ready to bear young. Perhaps Sean was just waiting for her to mature in order for her to become his bride and do things the right way. If she thought about it like that, it seemed romantic and made her less anxious about the fact that he had not yet asked her to pleasure him, as she had seen him enjoy with the pleasure-whelps and as Dawn had bragged he had done with her.  

This reminded her of yesterday... He seemed unhappy with the pleasure-whelps, somehow, and surely that couldn't be an acceptable thing for a Dragon of Lust. She was determined to do her very best to give her Dragon what he needed, and thus do her part to serve Humanity. When Sean leaned back against the soft earth at the base of the great tree and took his afternoon nap, she snuck out of his hair and down to the mound of soft earth. She had been practicing climbing with her special retractable claws and could now climb up and down the dirt mound easily. Twilight tip toed between Sean's legs.  

She found her goal, and did her best to imitate the pleasure-whelps, stroking it with her somewhat-less-fluffy tail. Success! Sean's member grew, aroused. Unfortunately, it extended right over and on top of her, trapping her against the ground. Sean awoke and made a type of roar that Twilight had come to recognize over the last month as a laugh.  

(Nice try) he told her, before freeing her. She felt her cheeks hot with embarrassment as she puffed them out in a pout. She felt somewhat mollified when Sean called her cute and gave her extra gentle pets.  

"You've never let me practice!" she complained.  

(You don't have to do it) he assured her.  

"But I want to!" she announced, Whiskering frustration. Sean thought about it and shrugged. It was a gesture she was familiar with. Communicating with Dragons, she had learned, required paying close attention and learning to read the language of their body. Sean did not have whiskers, but was actually full of thought and emotion.  

(OK) he decided. (But later) he said, suddenly fixing his eyes off to the distance to his left. (Want to go for a ride?) he asked.  

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she screamed, embarrassment at sexual failures forgotten. Her riding armor was stored right nearby with Sean's growing pile of treasure, ready in case they had to ride into battle together. She ran over to it, then casting a quick glance around herself to make sure no one was watching (and to make sure Sean WAS) she stripped off her dress and changed into her riding armor. At first she was self-conscious about how revealing the armor was and how much fur it showed off, but then she decided that she was a bold and beautiful warrior princess and didn't have to care.  

Sean also seemed to get better at reading his partner, and at just that moment snapped his fingers to get her attention then signed, (You look beautiful in your armor.)  

He smiled at her as she screamed, "Ahhh! You tease!!" then climbed up the side of the mound and mounted him without looking him in the face. She loved when he teased her, even if she pretended that she didn't. In fact, she was starting to love him, in more than a "awe and worship the god-dragon way". If only he would return her feelings...  

*Whoosh!* The Dragon took flight and Twilight's heart soared along with it. She couldn't help but laugh like a loon every single time. The sky was free, it was powerful, it was where she truly belonged. Nothing in the world came close to the experience of taking to the skies with her Dragon, watching the people of the city become tiny below. She loved the sky and she loved Sean for giving it to her. She wasn't entirely sure, but she suspected the experience was actually sexually arousing to her. She was stuck between hoping Sean didn't notice and hoping he did.  

They took the normal path out of the city, straight ahead, around to the left to go behind the tree for a draconic potty break. Twilight didn't think there was any shame to it, even if it was stinky sometimes. In fact, it was deadly serious. She turned around and faced the rear while Sean did his business, both giving him privacy and guarding his back against Titan attack. But today's trip was different. Sean followed a covered carriage to the back of the tree. He squatted down right next to it. The inhabitants in the driving cab froze in fear. Sean made the hand sign that meant (continue) or (carry on).  

"Just pretend like we're not here!!" Twilight called downward. The squirrels nodded and attempted to go about their business as if there wasn't a god-sized dragon breathing down their necks. Five fluffy little whelps, younger even than Twilight's sister Dawn, came out of the House of the Young and stood in a chatty, giggly line. They were in awe of the Dragon but did their best to pretend he wasn't there as they were told. They were super excited, as for all they knew, they were being selected for something special. They stood up as straight as possible in line and tried to look cute.  

A noble, recognizable by his fancy clothes, walked back and forth in front of the whelps, running his hands through their fur and over their bodies. They giggled at these invasive touches, thinking it was some kind of game. They were then instructed to turn around and bend over, the same position the pleasure-whelps had taken to be punished, under-tails exposed. They struggled to keep balance, as if the position were unfamiliar. A few large, armored squirrels helped them out by holding them steady with their hands. They giggled more nervously as the noble explored what was between their legs with his hands and face. He finally selected two, and the other three said goodbye to the winners and returned home, disappointed. The winners were ecstatic, even as their whiskers were being tied close together, in two bundles, one on each side of their face. The noble backed away and comforted the anxious Neanderthalls that pulled the carriage.  

A large guard held each whelp in place as another approached with what looked like garden shears, and without ceremony, clipped the whiskers off the side of one Whelp's face. Twilight, even all the way on top of the crouching Sean's head, felt an unreal wave of horror, revulsion, and nausea. The whelp didn't have time to react before the guard clipped the other side and the wave of negative emotions disappeared. Princess Twilight sagged in relief.  

"Wow," she exclaimed. "That was worse than they told us in school. At least it was brief." Sean snapped for attention. She felt his scalp heat up underneath her feet. He raised his hands in front of his head and signed in reverse.  

(Hush. If talk, ride over. Watch.)  

She was startled, suddenly worried she did something wrong to upset her friend and battle partner. She quieted and watched, following directions. The guard that held the dismembered whelp let her go, and she fell to the ground, screaming and thrashing and vomiting. Twilight found the sight somewhat disturbing. That whelp was a person just a couple of seconds ago, and now it really did look like the whelp was suffering horribly. But that didn't make sense; if it were suffering, she would feel it. Unless... She couldn't? Didn't Sean have emotions she couldn't feel? But no... The implications were too horrible to consider. What she could feel and hear then was the second whelp suddenly crying and begging for mercy, and the guard's sadistic glee as he went to snip her next...  

The Dragon roared. 

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"That's enough!" Sean yelled, slamming his hand down next to the nightmarish scene. The squirrels were all knocked off their feet. He picked up the whisker shears and flicked them into the forest. He helped the intact whelp to its feet with a finger, then urged it toward the passage into the House of the Young and safety. It ran off, screaming pitifully for help. The squirrels looked panicked and made to chase after the whelp. He put a hand down flat to impede their progress and indicate that a chase was not allowed.  

Twilight helpfully yelled, "The Great Earth Dragon has bestowed upon that whelp the Mercy of the Earth! Let her be!" Sean indicated (carry on). "Continue your business!" The squirrels, unable to prevent the disaster of the whelp fleeing to speak of what it saw, wisely decided to hurry up and leave. He regretted not acting faster and saving the first whelp, but he knew that he had to see this entire process from start to finish, once. The guards threw the suffering whelp into the back of the covered wagon and took off. 

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Princess Twilight was numb and confused. She felt like she was on the verge of understanding something dark and meaningful. She stayed quiet and followed the wise Dragon's lead. 

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The driver of the carriage did his best to ignore the gigamongus Dragon stalking them and scowling. He was all too eager to switch out for his turn in the covered part of the carriage.  

What was going on in the carriage? Sean wanted to know. He pinched the frame with one hand and ripped the cover off with the other. It was worse than he had imagined. In the bed of the carriage, the noble and two guards raped the whelp in a puddle of her own vomit, blood and piss. They stopped under his glare.  

This was the last day that anyone would hurt one of his Fluffies, Sean decided. 

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Princess Twilight had nothing to say as Sean loomed over the city that trained and produced pleasure-whelps. She had seen pleasure-whelps tormented before, even tormented them herself as a bored little whelp on a visit to her Father's Palace, but never on this scale and never with the sneaking suspicion that maybe, just maybe, the whelp was actually suffering and she just couldn't feel it with her whiskers. What if what she felt broadcasted in the seconds after the first half of the pleasure-whelp-trainee's whiskers were clipped continued to exist constantly in that Whelp's personal experience? Twilight couldn't imagine it, but trying to made her want to die. 

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Sean got the basic idea and layout of the pleasure-whelp-training town at a glance. A third of the area was devoted to torturing and raping the whelps until they were dead inside and completely stopped reacting. The next third was building them back up again, turning them into unthinking zombies of pleasure that moved to the beat of a drum. The final third was merely storage. They sat in their depressing face to face sleeping bunny circles, only moving to eat and defecate. He realized that no, today wouldn't be the last day that someone would hurt his Fluffies. This mess was too big and complicated to be cleaned up in one day. But he would start the process.  

"Pleasure-whelps bad? No? Making pleasure-whelps is bad? As in, no one should ever make a pleasure-whelp ever again? OK. I understand. I will make sure your wisdom is spread and acknowledged... Thank you."  

At least Twilight was on board, now. He was tempted to smash the city, giving the whelps the freedom of death. But he would wait. Without shoes, he would just hurt his feet. He would seek help. But he was still pissed and needed an outlet. His throat felt dry and very hot for some reason. He had walked ahead of the now uncovered caravan when he saw the town. It arrived and unloaded.  

When the noble stepped out, Sean pushed him to the earth, slowly crushing him with the palm of his hand. He enjoyed feeling the offending squirrel break apart. These little beings truly were fragile. The guards from the caravan and town were stunned by the Whiskered suffering of the noble that they had just experienced. So was Twilight, but she didn't say anything. He ripped the top part of the frame from the carriage and took the sick and abused whelp gently in his hands, then returned home. 

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That same day, an unlucky pleasure-whelp Keeper made the mistake of again disciplining one of Sean's pleasure-whelps. The whelps were thrown off their game by witnessing the whelp Sean had rescued and was now cleaning, feeding, comforting, and in general nursing back to health. Didn't he JUST tell this guy not to hurt or punish HIS Fluffies? He picked the keeper up and roared in its face. Words were no longer needed, and besides, no one could understand them. He was just, so, MAD.  

When his draconic rage was spent, he was surprised to see that all that was left of the Keeper was a melted, burning corpse. He chunked it at a tree and enjoyed watching it fall to burning bits. The cage was next. 

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When Jafaar got back from the capital, he was in time to watch Gaston lead a dozen pleasure-whelps into Sean's circle to the beat of a drum. When the drum stopped, Gaston smashed it in order to get the Whelp's attention, then indicated that the whelps should join those already playing with Sean.  

Sean reclined with just his head up against the soft earth, glad he had the room to stretch out now. Former pleasure-whelps climbed over his legs and played with his wiggling toes. The rest ate and drank from his bowl, played in his treasure pile, or slept in a cuddle puddle on his stomach. Those that hadn't yet made it very far down the path of recovery hid in his armpit, and he ever so gently stroked them with his other hand.  

Gaston genuflected and said, "This is every pleasure-whelp in your city, O Great One. Any new ones brought in will be confiscated and added to your harem."  

(Thank you. I rely on you.) Sean said, and Twilight translated. In slow, languid movements, he reached over to his treasure pile (he had to move slowly at all times so he didn't hurt the fluffy children) and took a chain he had made by simply heating and mashing together gold and rubies. He tested it; seemed fairly stable. He draped it over Gaston's shoulders. Hmm, perhaps too big for a necklace. Oh well, he might just make another one later.  

"My lord! I... this is more than I deserve! I am content just with your gratitude! Please let me know how I can serve you further and deserve your praise and gifts!" Gaston was the happiest little squirrel in armor Sean had ever seen.  

(Food and cleaning for whelps. Give whelps a bowl. Expand my circle. Expand my city. More treasure. If I can help city, tell me.) Twilight translated.  

"At once, my lord!" Gaston cried, loyally. My lord? Was he a king now, too? "If you are healed and well-rested, my lord, we could use your help to protect a great caravan of supplies that would allow us to fulfill your request of expanding the city!" Sean gently flexed his injured calf.  

(Ready). 

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