Reignac

Art by RomanElke

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‘Magic. It’s a peculiar art lost to the days of old and forgotten by human tongue, but to dragons… it’s practiced daily. Poised and sharpened to the ultimate form, where it is treasured beyond all else. There is nothing more powerful than a mouth knowing the language of Dragon. Absolutely nothing. And if you asked otherwise, well, any knowledgable bloke would tell you that MAGIC was the way to go in these darkening times.
Warriors, Scholars- PAH! The pen was JUST AS USELESS as the sword dangling at your belt. All useless when there is energy in the very air to make battle with!

With the magic, there were mages. Lone dragons who walk the road of a student. They were creatures of unpredictable ways, and were not to be trifled with. Because there is little to deter a mage from his path...And Reignac knows this. He knows it well. Because he studied the arts, breathed its secrets and committed them to heart. A perfect pupil waiting to be shaped. Determined and poised, he walked with the Gods of Old to learn their ways. He did all this, and more… but NOW was the time to put this knowledge into practice.

Why now, of all times? Well, it was to impress the young She-dragon sitting in front of him. Cute little thing, with the cotton-candy coloring and the pastel blue wings. Wide eyes drinking in the possibility of his performance… and oh, how he loved to perform.

No, no, NO! This was not a simple performance! This was pure KNOWLEDGE he was speaking with! KNOWLEDGE, I tell all of you! Perfectly crafted, sung from the heart it was… GAH!

In any case, he was ready.

With a flap of the wings, Reignac was in the air, above the bemused audience. As one of the ANCIENTS, reigning down from the heavens with the light to his back and shadows bowing to his feet. Dancing flames burned everything in his path, out of his sight and out of control. Their mocking gazes turned to absolute terror- proof that his little show was working, it was PROOF that he was meant to be feared.
He inhaled deeply, let out a cackling sort of laugh.
This was it, THIS was what it meant to feel alive…. This was what it meant to be a mage! His final act, a mighty roar and the bellows of fire from his lungs, wind in his scales whipping into a devastating tornado-

...And it ended in the utter destruction of his lair.

Poor thing, really.


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