RD-09

 

Chapter 10: On Hands and Knees 

Sean found Twilight's body past the first tuft of tall, flaming tan grass. It was unmoving and her tail was smoking. He gently patted out the smoke on her tail then picked her up with his good arm as carefully as he could, also digging up the dirt underneath her in the process. He held her up to his chest and walked on his knees away from the flames, coughing. He could breathe fire and some sort of white smoke, but the black smoke of the burning grass still choked him.  

He looked up and saw that the 300 strong honor guard of the defeated Dragon was nearly upon him, wielding their two-handed swords in both hands above their heads and burbling furiously. They were determined to make this battle a tie, and Sean figured they were about to do it. He no weapons left; his right arm was wrecked, his left arm held Twilight, and he couldn't stop coughing long enough to try and pull in the lungful of air he needed to breath fire; not that he was angry, anymore, just tired, in pain, and resigned to his fate. 

He tried to stand up, stumbled, and fell back on his rear, coughing. At least he succeeded in his mission and would now get to die alongside his little furry lover. 

--- 

"The enemy Dragon has fallen. Our Dragon is wounded, alive, but in danger." King Rafael announced, tense. The massed armies of Humanity watched the colossal brawl from the tree line, breathlessly. They Whiskered dread as they watched the smaller, more agile Dragon dominate their own Dragon with speed and the power of the great demonic blade, Excalibur. They screamed in exstatic joy and hope when Humanity's Dragon suddenly turned the fight around with a dodge, a swipe, and a tackle that was faster than they could fully see. There was a brief struggle on the ground and The Great Blue Dragon seemed to take hits, but the watching Humans had faith that the fight was over and won; nothing, even another dragonic god, could beat Humanity's Dragon in its specialty; a grapple. The enemy Dragon seemed to realize this too, surrendering. Anyone watching had to admit that the Cromag's Dragon had fought magnificently, with unparalleled speed, agility, and legendary weaponry. But the facts were that Humanity's Dragon was the biggest, strongest, and most brutal; it only took a single mistake to give him the upper-hand and victory.  

The enemy Dragon's final act was to latch onto the larger Dragon with its legs and bite his face; of course, this could only end with their own Dragon breathing fire into its face, ending the fight. Humanity cheered, but became tense when their Dragon crawled off on one arm and two legs, dragging one arm limply behind him. It crawled over flames, attempted to take flight, and faltered. At this point everyone looked to Gerard and Warla, leaders of Humanity's forces, in anticipation.  

Warla mumbled, "It's just like the first time, " then reached out her right arm from her stylish, signature black cloak, drawing the longsword at her hip and thrusting it into the air dramatically, taking the equivalent of a huge Whiskered breath. Knowing what was coming, Gerard had just enough time to shout to the gathered occultists, "Transportation Magic, Front lines!" before Warla, Whiskering unshakeable courage, thundered out once more, "ASSIST THE DRAGON!" 

--- 

When Sean felt the gentle breeze behind him, re realized that the squirrel army was rushing to his aid; he wished they wouldn't. They weren't supposed to, especially since there was no chance they would reach him before the guinea pigs. But he had forgotten about his own honor guard; at the last moment, 300 flaming squirrels in heavy armor, wielding oversized great shields and pikes, burst through the burning grass without hesitation. 

Squeaking in both fury and pain, they made a line of steel around Sean even as they burned to death. The honor guard of the slain Dragon crashed into the wall of shields a moment later, but couldn't get past. The guinea pigs were bigger and stronger as a rule; but these were just 300 Cromag warriors selected at random, against the 300 biggest, strongest, most dedicated warriors of Squirrel-manity. The cromags were stopped by both the steel and fire; it wasn't a strategy that could work forever, but for a precious few moments the burning squirrels held back the enemy with fanatic determination and the very heat from their own burning bodies. Whenever one fell, finally falling to burns or smoke or the greatsword of a barbarian cromag, another took their place. 

Two squirrels seemed to come to an agreement; they stripped off their armor, set their tails on fire from the burning corpse of a fallen friend, then pushed past the defensive line and into the Cromag warriors. Unarmored, they were hacked to bits in moments. But they achieved their goal, setting a spreading fire to the guinea pigs and causing them to retreat.  

Sean wept electric tears for the self-sacrifice of the noble little warriors. He wept for the loss of his love, Twilight, for the death of the young woman who had just died horrible by his hands, and even for the loss of his own beautiful scales. 

He laid Twilight on his lap then spat into his hand, trying to make a fireball to throw into the enemy lines. But he was sorrowful, not rageful, so all he got was a wad of regular spit. Then his tears dripped into his hand and something entirely new happened; they ignited the spit in his hand into a loudly crackling pool of writhing, yellow tendrils of electrical energy. He wasn't entirely immune to this weapon, and his one good arm lit up in pain from electrocution.  

From his sitting position, he flung the ball of crackling electricity at the center of the mass of Cromags; it exploded when it hit the ground, blasting guinea pigs into tiny pieces, then causing chains of electric energy to snake out in every direction, jumping from Cromag greatsword to Cromag greatsword, slaying dozens more. He had a new weapon, now if only he could breathe...He was forced to close his eyes, bend over, and cough, while trying to shield Twilight's body with his own. He looked back up and saw the entire Cromag horde closing in. This is it, he realized, still unable to breathe.  

Just then there was a great sizzling sound as thousands of squirrels put out the flames in the grasses with their river-soaked bodies and swarmed to the rescue all around him. They dove valiantly onto the flaming Phalanx, using the water trapped in their fur to save all they could.  

"Lay down so we can treat you!" Warla, looking every bit the dark, sexy squirrel warrior in black cape and silver armor, yelled up at him. 

"Help her!" He yelled, lifting Twilight. Warla, of course, couldn't understand that roar, but seemed to understand and pointed to Jafaar waiting with two Druidic Mossers. 

"Hurry! We can't treat the wounded until we treat you!" Warla urged. 

He laid Twilight gently on the ground next to Jafaar, and tried to ignore the brutal, gory sight of the squirrel and guinea pig forces crashing into eachother. He obeyed and lay down. Three Druidic Mossers, including the Arch-Mosser Frodo, drew a circle in the dirt and completed a quick ritual spell, after which they dove on Sean's arm. Their skin and the moss attached shed off all at once and covered his destroyed arm.  

"Turn over to your left!" Warla yelled, after briefly examining his cheek and deciding it was fine enough for now, just missing scales. Sean flinched when he felt a squirrel sword cut a line open over his wounded shoulder blade, then the creepy feeling of luminescent antibiotic moss crawling inside his wound to support the broken bone.  

"That's everything vital," a Mosser told Warla, who yelled up to Sean. 

"Your right arm is fragile and will be for a long time. We cannot win this fight today without your help. Please! Take flight and assist Humanity!" 

The smoke had disappeared and he could breathe. He pushed himself up with his arm; his right arm was whole and functioned, minus the scales and claws. He took one look at the noble and courageous Warlord Warla, black cape fluttering in the wind, one look at the Druidic Mossers who were cutting Twilight's still form open with knives, then rose to his feet. There were thousands of squirrels, but the guinea pigs were endless. No matter; he was back on his feet and now everyone would know a Dragon's Rage and Sorrow. 

"That's ENOUGH!!"  

He gave a titanic roar, causing the entire battlefield to stop and look. Then he began his unstoppable March of Death. With one step, he was over his line of defenders and crushing the cromags under his mud-protected feet. He kept stomping, and not a single enemy managed to land a blow on him. In seconds, he had created a gap where the nearby Cromags were fleeing from him and running into those still charging. 

He wiped the tears from his face, spit into his hand, then flung the ball of lightning where enemy lines were thickest to his left; an explosion, crawling, slaying lightning, and then the enemy forces on the left were crumbling and losing formation. He coughed several times into his hand next until he had a huge pile of radiant magma. He flung this into the thickest part of the enemy ranks to his right; it rained down in a line, making an impassible barrier of heat, melting any Cromags it landed on, and reating flames that the rest were desperate to put out. 

The squirrel forces on the right were able to crush their enemies against the heat of the napalm behind them. The 100 remaining members of his personal guard still on their feet pushed their way forward and took their rightful place guarding his flanks. He felt something bump his left foot; the combat engineers working with the Occultists had rigged Excalibur with rope and pushed it along to his feet with magic and manpower. He picked the formidable club up; a little short for his arm-length, but he would never doubt the power of the strangely named weapon.  

Stomping and smashing, Sean roared and led the squirrel army into the Cromag horde and victory, routing the enemy forces with the terror of prodigious size, fire, and lightning. 

--- 

Sean sat on a hill overlooking the Cromag capital, shoving his face full of various colored grapes while a Druid took its time patching up his feet. The muddy shoes had lasted a while, but not forever, and there had been much stomping to do. When the Druidic Mosser finished, Sean lay down so it could treat his cheek and lip. Jafaar and three other Occultists got to work recreating his hardened mud shoes.  

(What now? Keep watching?) Sean asked with his hands, without opening his eyes or sitting up. 

"I'm...I'm sorry, Great One. I cannot understand any New Draconic. Let me send for Occultist Prime Jafaar," Warla the Warlord admitted, sounding ashamed. She ran down to Sean's feet and helped another soldier support Jafaar's weight as he dragged himself to Sean's head, exhausted both from using his magic in the war and from quickly reapplying Sean's shoes. 

"Forgive me, Occultist Prime, I should have studied the divine language." Warla said, bowing.  

Jafaar waved her off, "Nonsense. You had other responsibilities as Warlord. It's my fault for not thinking to bring civilian translators. We didn't consider the possibility of losing Princess Twilight." 

Sean sat up at this and asked, (Losing? Has Twilight died?) 

"Forgive my wording, Great Dragon. She was seriously injured and being carried to safety. We won't know her fate until we return home," Jafaar corrected. "Your deep love for the First Princess is well known by all, Might One. Rest assured that no expense will be spared to save her life and make her whole. She will have the highest priority bed in the moss caverns under the Capital, ahead of any other wounded soldier." 

Warla accidentally slipped and let out just a little bit of Whiskered jealousy at this. Jafaar diplomatically ignored it and continued, "Please allow me to translate for the Warlord while we have the chance, O Unstoppable God of War."  

(New names?) Sean asked, amused. 

"You can expect a lot of new names after defeating the Cromag's Dragon and their army in one day. You've ruined your reputation as a gentle, loving Dragon of Mercy, all at once." 

Less embarrassing then being known as a Dragon of Lust, Sean figured. (What are we doing now?) Sean asked, and Jafaar translated.  

Warla answered, "Twisting the blade to make a small wound a fatal one. The Cromags await us in their stronghold, afraid of stepping out and becoming a target for your lightning and fire...Do you still have no more lightning and fire, Great One?" Warla whiskered the last part quietly.  

Sean tested; he gave a small cough and felt his lungs clean and empty. He was too exhausted to get angry again. He had rehydrated a bit from grapes and thought he could get sad and cry a little if he needed to. 

(Ambrosia helped. Maybe a little lightning, now. Sorry I don't have more. Need food and rest,) Sean reported. 

"I think defeating one Dragon and one army is all we can ask for in one day, Great One." Jafaar reassured him.  

"I don't know, Occultist Prime. Do you think you could send him back and we could get a bigger one, next time?" Sean chuckled/roared at Warla's joke. 

<"Nicely done, Warlord"> Jafaar said in a whisper as Sean laughed, <"If Twilight perishes, you may need to take her place as the Dragon's favorite companion."> 

<"It would be my honor,"> Warla whispered back, carefully hiding her emotional response this time. She continued talking to Sean, "Best save your last lightning to discourage pursuit when we retreat. The Cromags do not know that our army isn't over this hill, preparing for a siege. They do not realize our army is picking clean every last resource on this side of the Cromag's Kingdom and breaking what we cannot take, while their actually still massively superior army fortifies and hides in the capital. By this time next year, the Cromags may very well have cannibalized themselves and lost a great number of their population, at which time WE will be the ones to exact tribute from THEM." 

(Why not just burn down the grassland?) Sean asked.  

Warla and Jafaar shared a brief, disturbed look. With an odd bit of formality, Warla gave him a bow and avoided eye contact. "We wish to survive in this world, not destroy it, O Wise Dragon of Mercy," she answered cryptically. She continued, "If we can sit here and look menacing for another couple of hours, we'll finish retrieving the wounded, slain, and spoils of war."  

(What about the tribute whelps?) Sean asked. 

Warla grimaced and answered, "Most will not...survive by Spring, according to our Cromag prisoners. There may be some somewhere in the capital, but we don't know where."  

Sean looked out at the great Cromag Capital beneath him. It was at least as big as the Squirrel Capital, probably bigger. The buildings were made of grass and earth instead of wood and leaves, and it was filled to the brim with a teeming mass of guinea pigs, containing the routed army and refugees from the lands Humanity now occupied. There was nothing he could do now but lob missiles and that wouldn't rescue anyone. 

Just then something strange and inexplicable began to happen in the sky beyond the Cromag capital.  

Being taller than anyone else, Sean saw it first and began to moan in horror. Having never heard this particular sound from their Dragon overlord before, Warla and Jafaar glanced around quickly, trying to understand what it meant.  

Someone cried out, "The Cromag Shamans have summoned "The Mother!"  

Sean was transfixed, feeling as if he were both having an unreal nightmare and in the full adrenaline rush of terrified awakeness. Rising steadily over the horizon beyond the Cromag city was a great red moon, as wide across the horizon as the grand capital city itself. It looked both familiar and unfamiliar, and appeared to be covered with many great, white, artificial structures. The worst part was that it wasn't tidally locked; it was visibly rotating, from top to bottom, giving the impression that it was rolling toward the viewer, constantly increasing in size and getting closer. 

Seans's eyes became moons themselves as he started, mouth open, at the impossible sight, somehow already pressed with his back and head to the ground, crushed by the mere presence of "The Mother".  

"Close your eyes! She can't hurt you unless you look at her, Great One!" Jafaar yelled. 

"Too late!" Warla bellowed, then in her commanding voice once more demanded, "PROTECT THE DRAGON!!" She leapt up to Sean's face and raised her black clock with both hands, protecting Sean's eyes. 

Thousands of seedpods, each affixed with a sharp point stabbing towards the ground, began to land silently on and around Sean. Several got caught in Warla's cape, stabbing through a couple centimeters. She grunted in pain and went to her knees as some stabbed into her tail and legs, but she kept the cape over Sean's eyes. Sean felt tiny, almost painless pricks all over for an instant, and then his remaining phalanx bodyguard leapt upon him, shielding his whole body with their greatshields.  

"Hang in there Great Dragon, it'll pass!" Jafaar said, rushing under the cover of the greatshields along with Warla, a seed impaled straight through his grey muzzle that he didn't seem to notice. 

"Hold still, Prime!" Warla demanded, pulling the seed out, then removing those going through Jafaar's tail.  

"Ow! The Mother, OW, fluff it!" Jafaar tried to talk as Warla removed the seeds from his body, "The Mother will need to reload soon and then we need to, OW, retreat to our forest. The shaman's magic is too strong when the Mother is present."  

"As soon as the seed rain stops, grab Jafaar and run for the forest, my Dragon!" Warla commanded. Sean obeyed, but grabbed them both. As he ran, he dodged fleeing squirrels, most of which ran with their tail flipped up over their head to protect themselves from the shower of bizarre missiles. 

--- 

Chapter 11: Rest 

Sean spent the rest of the Spring resting at Sean's Respite, healing his injuries and flinching every time the sky darkened, wondering if it were just a cloud passing by unseen above the thick canopy above, or if in fact the huge, spooky moon was passing by overhead.  

He marveled at the antibiotic moss's ability to heal everything, given enough time. Squirrel medics had made sure his bones were in the right place and healing properly, using the other side of his body for comparison. He was pretty sure his right shoulder blade felt bigger than his left, but he was told that was normal and he would get used to it.  

Sure enough, in a couple months, he did. His right arm worked great and only ached a bit in the rare rains of Spring. As he watched the squirrels build passageways to channel the rain that gathered in streams and dripped from specific spots in the canopy above (gathering their year's supply of water) he worried about Twilight. He was told that she missed him too, but needed to spend a long time in the medical moss caverns that had been built into the old wood mine under the capital. Her body had been crushed by the open-handed slap of the enemy Dragon, but she would survive and become whole, eventually. It seems that wounded individuals generally died in the first day of being wounded, or else they could be saved and restored nearly to full health by skilled moss surgeons almost every time.  

This was one of the reasons why they had insisted they merely occupy Cromag territory, Sean realized; it gave them time to evacuate and save their wounded, of which there had been many. The blows of the squirrels and guinea pigs were on a completely different level than those of the Titans and Dragons, and often survivable. Even many of the Phalanx that had their fur burned entirely off had been somehow savable. They were greatly honored for their role in saving the Dragon at the expense of their bodies, and those that had their whiskers burned off but survived were given a comfortable retirement alongside the ex-pleasure whelps in Sean's Respite. 

Sean got the impression that the greatest death tolls of the battle were the wounded cromags that did not receive the same support from their allies and were finished off by the squirrel forces. His cooks were only too proud to present his soup, absolutely filled with fresh, delicious pork. Sean watched farms come into existence some distance from his city, giving it plenty of space yet to grow.  

Some of the more intelligent Cromags had the foresight to defect and surrender willingly to squirrel-manity, and were now working on farms just past the river and squirrel territory. In exchange for the open-sun produce they farmed (often using the little seed spears that came in attached to Sean's backside, actually) they were given protection and the opportunity to avoid the catastrophic cannabilism that would take place over the next year now that the squirrels had wrecked so much Cromag food production infrastructure. 

Sean was relieved to find out that his scales grew back, although they were paler and thinner. He supposed it was the equivalent of a scar. He might be more vulnerable to injury there, but at least they supported his regrowing claws again. His right arm was now Draconic up to the shoulder, joining the scales on his upper back. His left claw had finished, growing scales up to his elbow; enough to support that hand's claws. He was able to use the claws of one hand to file down the claws of the other, keeping them all a reasonable length. 

His legs were scaled up to his knees and just beyond, and he had toenail claws now for whatever reason. He supposed that the next time he kicked a cabbit in the balls, it would be a fatal wound. It also gave him an alternative to stomping if he thought doing so would hurt his feet. Half his face and even the top of his head were scaley, although his hair still poked out between his scales. He was told that one of his eyes was shaped like a Titan's, a vertical slit pupil. He woke up one morning suddenly able to see better in the dark with it. He supposed that "Earth Dragons" were in fact "Forest Dragons" and meant to stay in the darker shade of the trees.  

All of his skin had turned blue-black ahead of receiving scales, and he was annoyed to learn that some called him "The Black Dragon of Death", although perhaps the name was deserved. No longer shedding pale skin, his darker skin simply grew slits that scales came out of. Near the start of summer, he would be given a scare when all of his scales fell off for a week, but it turned out he was merely molting and growing in a set of paler, thinner, cooler, summer scales, ones that matched those had had thought of as "scars". His scales recovered from battle and molting were used to make a superior, light-weight armor that allowed his bodyguard Phalanx unit to actually retain some mobility. They lived in a symbolic perimeter around the center of Sean's personal circle and protected him while he slept. It put him at ease while he grew new scales; these guys were a head taller and much bigger than normal squirrels and he suspected they could buy him time against attack, even from a Titan. 

He was self-conscious about how hard and metallic his scales were at first, but his fluffy harem didn't seem to mind in the slightest; they liked reclining against his cool scales on warm days. Sean enjoyed reclining himself on his new pillow made from cromag skin and stuffed with the fur of both species. He wasn't in the mood for the train of infinite fluffing he had enjoyed before, too busy healing. He spent his snuggle time mostly with Dawn and Hope (Dawn2's real name, as identified by a classmate that wandered by out of the House of the Young).  Dawn was cute and smug ("Told you that you wouldn't die, Draggy~") and Hope was cute and precious, kissing his eyelids when he went to sleep. 

The sign language classes continued, and Sean had to be consulted for new words all the time as the communicating needs of the Cut became more complex. Dawn and a dozen of the brightest Cut whelps continued to learn English using chalk and the glass Sean had created, when Sean was in the mood to teach. Now that they had a vocabulary of sign language, they were able to pick up English words that meant the same thing fairly quickly.  

Sean rested and played with his Fluffies, only really interested in chatting with his favorite visitors – Gaston, Jafaar, and Warla (Dawn and Hope were less visitors and more part of the naked fluffy ocean Sean swam in every day). Count Gaston was a happy old soldier, visiting often to update Sean on the status of his growing city and present to him interesting decisions about it when possible. The city inevitably extended behind the great tree that was Sean's throne and the things he didn't like looking at (such as the Neanderthal servant species) were moved back there and out of sight. He wondered if the Cromags would now eventually end up the same way, as beasts of burden.  

Jafaar spent most of his time in the Capital, effecting social change, but he visited once a week to discuss Twilight's progress, the changes at the capital, and attempt to translate ancient texts. The translation was slow-going and frustrating, because Jafaar had to write each word large enough for Sean to read, most words didn't have a sign language equivalent yet, and a lot of it was merely dry data, recordings of days, seasons, lunar cycles, weather, descriptions of native flora and fauna; a foreigner trying to understand the world around them and taking extensive notes. It was not the ancient wisdom Jafaar had hoped for, but as it was but a tiny selection of many, many such works, Jafaar still had high hopes. 

Sean and Jafaar agreed that the only logical choice was to focus on teaching "Old Draconic" to Humanity, so that the workload of translating could be given to many dedicated scholars at once. Jafaar mentioned a "Dragon Cave" that had messages written of a proper size for Sean to read easily, and was certain it contained the most important of wisdom. Sean agreed to travel there with Jafaar once he was both fully healed and transformed. No point in taking a risk traveling deep in the forest before he was at full power. Jafaar agreed.  

Jafaar also brought up a social matter for the Dragon of Mercy and Equality to share its wisdom on. Apparently, some male squirrels liked other male squirrels and some female squirrels liked other female squirrels. This was illegal, seen as unnatural and wrong, and transgressions were punished by the cutting of Whiskers like anything else. Before Jafaar could explain further, white smoke came out of Sean's nostrils as he angrily denounced these laws, calling them cruel and pointless.  He demanded they be removed immediately and such squirrels treated equally as everyone else. Perhaps if there were a population shortage issue, and the survival of Humanity depended on it, the female squirrels should be encouraged to bear offspring. But that should be a process with dignity and respect, and they should be allowed to live as they like with their desired partners and not have to interact with the sire of their children unless they chose to. 

Jafaar waited patiently for the Dragon to finish making its demands, assured him it would be done as he desired, then went and hugged Sean's foot without explanation, silently weeping in gratitude. Sean pet him gently until he had collected himself then left to spread the Dragon's wisdom. Apparently this issue was important to Jafaar and he had waited a long time for the right moment to bring it up, also bringing certain hopes and expectations for how the Dragon he had summoned would respond. Sean as glad he had fulfilled these expectations and made his friend happy. This issue seemed more important to Jafaar than even translating the ancient texts, and Jafaar made no other requests of Sean for a long time, visiting only to spend time with his friend, the Dragon, and make sure Sean had everything he desired. 

Sean's main desire was to eat and grow strong, finishing his transformation so he didn't feel lopsided and uneven. He wanted Twilight to get better, but there was no rushing that. He could only think to ask for shoes, shorts, and a larger pile of gold and treasure to spend his time playing with and staring at. Jafaar promised they would make those things a priority. A short while later, King Rafael came to visit, paying his respects to the Great Dragon, expressing his regrets that he lived in a different city in the palace (Sean jokingly offered to pick up the palace and carry it to Sean's Respite, and the royalty panicked and assured him it wouldn't be necessary, seeming to be afraid that the massive Dragon actually could and would do it.) 

Humanity was well aware that Sean could fly really fast in a straight line (Sean's fastest time dashing to the capital was right at 15 minutes) so the "Dragon's Road" that started at his throne at the House of the Young was being extended all the way to the capital, and Humanity as building up a population along that road and thus a quick jog was all it took to deliver Sean's protection.  

King Rafael delivered gifts, including the furry pillow Sean would come to love and a sort of short skirt of Cromag skin tied to his waist. It had been died black to better match his skin and scales and he appreciated being allowed a modicum of modesty. It made him feel more like a human. He carefully ripped it along the sides so it would be looser and more comfortable, as well as allow him to cover himself while he sat cross-legged. Shoes were more complicated, and he was told it would probably be a while before they figured it out...they had to scrap their initial designs when Sean started growing toe claws. They were now trying to make Cromag leather sandals, but any straps they designed would be cut by the scales on his legs while he walked. They continued to experiment with the alloying of metals to find something that might work. 

After buttering Sean up with gifts, King Rafael asked to confirm what Jafaar had reported as Sean's words concerning the equality of gay squirrels. It seemed that his demands had been echoed back to him almost exactly the same, so he confirmed it. 

(Is there a problem with that?) Sean asked. 

King Rafael shrugged, replying, "Not really. Could be worse. At least you're not a Dragon fo Suffering and Blood." 

And that was that. Next up were the promises Sean made to Dawn and Warla. There was the issue that Sean had already declared that Stunting was not allowed; Jafaar overlooked a Druidic Mosser that performed the operation, in the dead of night, near the Draconic Toilet. Sean gently, but firmly held Dawn in place while the Mosser prepared the hook that would rip out her ovaries.  

"Last chance. Are you absolutely sure, Dawn?" Jafaar asked. 

"Yes, Uncle! Just do it already!" Sean nodded to confirm that he too was ready and allowed it.  

*RIP* One ovary out.  

"Ahhhh! Wait, wait, I change my mind! It hurts too much!"  

*RIP* 

"Nooo aaaaah! Boohoohoooo..." 

The Mosser shoved in the antibiotic moss that would stop the bleeding (but not regrow missing orgasm) and said a jarringly cheerful "All done!" 

(I'm glad we stopped this horrible practice,) Sean signed, then gently picked Dawn up and held her to his chest. She curled into a ball and chewed on her tail as she wept and sobbed in agony. Sean gave her the soft underside of one of his fingers to chew instead, happy to share even a little bit of her pain. He rocked her to sleep and held her all night. In the morning he brought her back, and held her close, feeding and cleaning her, for the week it took her to heal. 

"Did I do the right thing? Did I make you happy, Draggy?" Shew would ask while curled up in his arms. He assured her that hers was his favorite fluffy whelp's fur in all the land, and always would be. He grew closer to Dawn after this, eventually promising to take her as his bride after Twilight. Dawn recovered and continued to teach classes in New Draconic, and as well as be the best student in Old Draconic AKA English. As much as he wanted to, Jafaar couldn't quite wrap his head around the language. Few could. It seemed only the young and the Cut stood a chance at learning the alien language of English.  

One of the few notable exceptions was Radiant, the arrogant, peasant-born Arch-Aerialist. For whatever reason, the young man was a natural born linguist. He at first disparaged the practice, considering it pointless and beneath him. He represented the conservative minority that resisted the changes away from the Path of the Air to the Path of the Earth. Sean didn't mind; he understood that Jafaar was basically squirrel Pope nowadays and that complaining was all Radiant could do as long as Sean was around, verifying Jafaar's moral authority. Not to mention the small army of Terramancers that now followed him.  

Sean actually found Radiant's rebelliousness refreshing. He might be the only squirrel that ever asked Sean "Why?" which led to enjoyable debates. Both Sean and Jafaar insisted Radiant stick with the language, and against his will, Radiant eventually became intellectually stimulated and got into it. To Dawn's great dismay, he became the first squirrel to understand some of Sean's "roars", and actually follow along with careful, slowly whispered words. This was exhilarating for both squirrel and Dragon, and Radiant was persuaded to become "Arch-Bishop of the Divine Languages", a title Sean made up to make him feel special so he would willingly cooperate on further study. Radiant was now the second squirrel to receive a title directly from Humanity's Dragon (after Count Gaston) and the first to receive one the Dragon himself invented. It raised Radiant's popularity and prestige tremendously (He was also still the Arch-Aerialist) as well as improved his attitude a good deal. He still complained and arrogantly demanded explanations, but could no longer afford to oppose the Dragon, the Path of the Earth, or his language lessons. Not if he wanted to keep his newfound prestige and popularity. 

Jafaar visited just to freak out and tell Sean how wise he was for solving the rift in Squirrel belief systems so eloquently and completely. When Dawn whined about Radiant getting a title and not her (she was, in fact, still his better in most aspects of the language) Sean made her "Principal of Draconic School" so Radiant couldn't boss her around. And thus the two were peers, and their educational competition continued. Radiant was in charge of the Draconic language's place in Human Society, making sure the rising Occultists studied New Draconic, that a search for the rare few who could learn and possibly hear Old Draconic was conducted, and started the machinery that would eventually create an order of librarians that translated the Old Draconic texts. 

Dawn was in charge of the schooling that took place in the Dragon's circle (which was fine by her). She was already the housewife that kept the rescuees in order and provided for and acted as the Dragon's head of household in the requesting and scheduling of receiving audiences and gifts, among various other things. "Fluffmaster" was the title he gave Dawn in his mind. 

Warla was more shy about asking Sean to keep his end of her promise. After his initial recovery, they resumed their weekly meetings outside the capital. Warla was greatly relieved when she finally got the nerve to ask if Sean remembered his promise to her and he said, of course, and that he meant to honor it. She was frustrated when she heard him say that he was going to wait until after Princess Twilight recovered out of respect for his "First Bride", but she tried to hide it. Besides, the anticipation was pleasurable and she was fairly certain the Dragon enjoyed teasing her and driving her nuts. He would, with her permission, gently pet her for a while after their meetings. This would lead to furious self-fluffing sessions for Warla before bed. She was going crazy out of lust for the Dragon and loving it. Sean found this all very amusing and considered Warla one of his best friends in this world.  

He was visited by the king one more time near the end of Spring. An infestation of giant spiders was discovered along the new "Dragon's Road" right where a new town was planned to be created, in order to house those that came from Humanity's far borders to be closer to the Holy Dragon. It was explained that the army could easily, safely dispose of one spider at a time (Sean had seen them do it and was impressed at their trained coordination). But when attacking such a horde of spiders, fatalities were guaranteed if the spiders all attacked at once. Even worse, their eggs were too high up on the trees to reach, and when the spiderlings hatched near the end of Spring, all of Humanity would have to hide for a week in the safety of their towns while the thousands of little critters dispersed.  

"Perhaps the Dragon wouldn't mind using his height, his might, and his magnificent fiery breath to clear away the threat?" King Rafael suggested humbly. 

"Are they venomous?" Sean asked. 

"Yes, but there was no chance they could bite through your scaled feet and lower legs." 

"Could they jump?"  

"Oh my, no, that would be terrifying." 

"Well then have the Terramancers give me my mud shoes and I will take care of it today," Sean agreed. 

He liked this king; young, but humble, and somehow still made time to learn the basic hand signs. A random comment about this to the gossipy Dawn would increase the King's popularity, as well as ensure he spent more time studying New Draconic. After all, what good was a King who ruled on the Divine Authority of the Dragon God that couldn't even understand the orders and wisdom of the Dragon, himself? 

Sean as able to take care of the great spider threat in a speedy two hours, including a lunch break halfway through, mostly to wet his fire-dry throat. His Phalanx stood in formation, ready to give him a place to retreat should he be overwhelmed. They would make a square and he would just reach over their lines and squash spiders with Excalibur. There didn't end up being a need. The spiders were as large as his head with their legs splayed out, but were dumb and slow. He had all the time he needed to work up a rage and summon fire breath (Stupid gross spiders eating my fluffies!). Then he just torched and stepped on them one by one. The fire would clear away the webs instantly, dumping a shocked and burned spider on the ground. Squish. He used Excalibur to knock down those he couldn't reach, that seemed to be feeding on flying insects that flew above instead of creatures crawling on the forest floor.  

The last 20 or so spiders crawled down and charged him all at once, the exact scenario that made fighting them dangerous for the squirrels. But he simply stood his ground and smooshed them rapidly with the head of Excalibur. It was fun. He spent the last hour finding the spider egg clusters hanging on the smooth bark of the trees and carefully torching them. 

(Let me know if I missed any,) he told Warla and the rest of the awestruck observers, before marching back home with the now scale-and-steel-armored Phalanx marching double time to keep up. And thus, Sean paid his rent. 

Near the middle of summer, it was reported that a new Titan pride had moved in to claim the territory that Anthrax and his pride no longer claimed, but they were only attacking the farthest fringes of human settlements, near the Cave of the Dragons that Jafaar had spoken of. Sean said he would take care of it when his scales finished growing in (about 80% completed, now) and he had his Rider once more; in the meantime, those endangered folk were free to flee to the protection of "Sean's Respite".  

Noone argued with this prudent proposal. The Dragon was, after all, the sole wielder of Humanity's "Big Guns" and the undisputed arbiter of their application. Shortly after this Twilight finished healing and Dragon and Rider were finally reunited. 

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