Beetlespoon

Beetlespoon
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Despite the excitement he'd felt the night before, when Suna's newly hired tactician had offered to show him the secret behind her summons, now he felt only regret. When his retainer had roused him out of bed in the early, early morning, told him to dress warm, and promptly disappeared into his lamp of a head, there had been an inkling of doubt deep in his soul whether he might have made a mistake.

Now that he was outside, trotting over the cold, hard ground, he couldn't help but bemoan his feelings.
"It's a little early," Giske muttered. No, that was not true. That was, in fact, an understatement. It was way early! So early the ground was still covered in a thick layer of frost!

He wrapped his woolen cloak tighter around himself and shuddered at the freezing cold. Dragonhome's badlands tended to be unbearable at this time of the day - especially during winter. Even with the sun slowly lightening up the sky, he could hardly see twenty meters in front of him.

That reminded him, where was the tactician anyway? He'd been told she'd meet him by the southern-most guard tower. At this time of the year, the tower was unmanned and its nightly beacon was long dead. Still, he had been able to see its contours against the glowing horizon.

As an extra precaution, he'd brought Lampoil with him. The lamp was grasped tightly in his clawed fist, lighting the way. With Lampoil's help, he'd found his way to the guard tower safe and sound. Yet, no tactician to see. When his grip tighened in a feeble attempt to retain some feeling in his hands, three pairs of eyes blinked at him from inside the lamp.

"Are you well, Your Highness? I do so hope you're not cold. Did you put on those woolen spats I had prepared for you?"

"Wha--? Yes, I am. Both well and cold, yes. Yes, I did. Did you see where the Tactician went?" he asked. A moment later he cursed himself for the stupid question.

"...I don't know, Your Highness. I was, regretfully, in your sleeve the entire time. I don't know where she is." There is a hint of embarrassement in Lampoil's voice, like he knew of Giske's realization, but felt obligated to answer him regardless.

Giske peered out into the darkness. No sign of her. Where did she go...?

"Tactician?" he called, tentatively. Nothing. One more, this time louder. "Tactican Beetlespoon, I can't see you! Are you there?!" For a moment, he feared he might have lost her. He took a deep breath, prepared to scream his lungs out.

Then, a blue light in the distance. Then two, five, twenty little pinpoints of bright light shining through the dark. They created the vague outline of a dragon, one that promptly hurried towards him. Arm shaking with cold, he raised the lamp high in the air, Lampoil's glow beckoning the tactician.

She appeared with a flourish. "Look at this, little Prince." One clawed hand grasped around its ribcage, she hoisted a wild dog high in the air. "Isn't he beautiful!" she said, excited.

"Ah..." He honestly didn't know what to say. The mutt was a mangy and half-starved beast; one that was constantly snarling and growling at its captor, attempting to twist its entire spine around so it could sink its teeth into Beetlespoon's arm. He tried one more time. "He looks... angry?"

"Exactly." She preened at the half-hearted compliment. "There's a strong will in this boy; that's the most important thing I want in a summon." She thumped her chest, where several pendants encrusted with cyan gemstones were hanging. They shone brightly, a feast for the eyes that Giske was sure he'd appreciate a lot more if he wasn't frozen half to death. In fact, at the moment, he could hardly even recall the child-like wonder he'd once felt when he first laid eyes upon Tactician Beetlespoon's gem-borne summons.

"Your Highness," she interrupted his thoughts. "Know that when I'm finished with this beast, he'll be a truly wondrous creature. He'll be more, much more, than what you see before you." She gazed upon him almost fondly. "I can see that you're cold. Don't worry, I shan't tarry. Look closely, little Prince." Four of her gems shone brighter for a moment, and then they're there. Two ghostly snakes, two shimmering manticores; all four of them worked diligently upon Beetlespoon's silent command to constrain the snarling wild dog.

Once both her hands were free, she promptly digged through her bag and procured an elegant mask of bone, painted to share the likeness of a dog, with a tiny orange gem set in its forehead. With a bow, she offered it to him. "Please wear it, Your Highness. I want to make sure it fits you properly. If it does, and you like it, this dog will be yours to command."

"...What?" Oh no, he spoke aloud. He took the mask and put it on, and peered through the eye holes at the skydancer. It fit perfectly. He tried again. "Tactician, this is a truly... humbling gift, but one I don't think I should accept. It's beautiful, but it's the creature within that matters. Would I even be able to activate it? Would there even be a point to me having something like this?"

"No, you are correct. You wouldn't. But it wouldn't be pointless. He will be your watch dog. In the beginning, he'll answer only to my command. However, with some fine-tuning, he'll be able to react and activate in response to dangers in your presence." With a low laugh, she took off her own bone mask, exposing the scarred face that had worried him so when they first met. She gave a deep bow. "This gift is yours to do with as you wish, but I would like for you to accept it." Her sharp gaze flickered down to Lampoil, and was it only his imagination or did the look in her eyes turn disdainful for a moment? "Lampoil is a devoted servant, I shan't deny, but his combat abilities leave a lot to be desired." She peered deeply into Giske's eyes, every trace of cheer gone from her face. "You need a proper bodyguard, little Prince, and preferably more than one. This is but a simple start. Now, shall we begin?"

"Without waiting for an answer, she knelt next to the mutt. "Place you hand on his shoulder while I draw his soul out of his body, so that he'll know you even in death. Remember to keep the mask on."

With some trepidation, he did just that. Brushing his clawed fingers through the beast's fur, he took great care in ensuring he did not nick its skin. The dog's quick heartbeat and its wild, wide eyes showed its terror.

Beast of the Wilds, I call to thee.
Five years you have wandered the Wastes
Five times five you will wander by his side
Give your soul to me, which I shall awaken.
Live for him. Answer to me.
AWAKEN!

With the last command, the dog's body went limp. The frenzied beat of its heart stilled beneath his hand. The bone mask grew suddenly warm, the gem in the center of its foreheard glowing bright like dawn sky. With a cry, he prepared to throw the thing off, fearing its burn. Only Beetlespoon's angry bark of a shout stopped him. Then, the apperance of the dog's spirit wiped any fears from his mind.

There was an orange, shimmering snout peeking out from between the beast's sharp teeth. The rest of the muzzle followed, one that opened with a snarl, exposing chalk white teeth. With a snarl, the ethereal shape clawed its way out from between the jaws of its mortal form, and threw itself into the air above. Once free, its anger immediately subsided and its long, ratty tail started wagging up a storm. With a happy yap, it started dancing around, nipping gently at his heels when he jumped back in fright.

Well, that certainly was a dog.
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Other dragons appearing in this lore piece:

Giske

Lampoil

Adoptable by @Renepolumorfous!

Adoptable by @Drytil!

Gem by @shroudrat!

Adoptable by @Vendrus!