Mully

The Imperial was found buried in the snow...

Heavily Shade-Touched, emaciated and shuddering, it cried and whimpered and clawed. The poor soul was already lost. It'd babbled incoherently, crying for parents who were likely long gone.... It was surprising, even to the beast who'd found it, that the pup had even survived the night. Each time it dared close its eyes was a scare, for its breathing slowed and quieted, and its heartbeat seemed to still, as if dipping into a failed hibernation. The poor beast would soon freeze solid, stiffened and chilled by the domain's magic until it was nothing more than a statue, a sculpture of lively, mortal despair.

Few took pity on it, sought to heal, or at least comfort it.

Wrapped, no, bundled, in the few blankets that could be found in the Fortress of Ends (for it was a prison, not a hospital), the hatchling was kept as warm as possible, if only to prolong its dwindling life.

It wasn't expected to survive long; its breed was meant for sunny cliffs and high altitudes, not the frigid domain of ancient beasts. Frost had formed on its small antlers, icicles hanging down its face from the tears that dripped from its eyes. And so, in an act of rare mercy, the Icewarden descended.

Taking the form of one of his own Gaolers, he approached the shivering soul. "Child," he rumbled. "I must inform you... you are dying."

His eyes glowed a piercing blue, his words curt and deliberate. Even in a lower form, he exuded power, which made the young dragon cower and weep.

The Imperial curled up, crying for his mother, for a family that would never find him. The Icewarden watched, its gaze cold and unfeeling. He felt, not pity for the creature, but disgust. It sniveled and wept, tarnishing the perfection of his land with its weakness. He supposed he should at least spare it a slow painful death, choosing to end its pathetic life in an instant.

He raised a claw to freeze it where it stood... until the Imperial said something... strange.

"Can you build... a snow dragon with me..?" it muttered. It was likely delirious, frozen to the core and mumbling nonsense. It repeated itself, looking up at the Icewarden. "P-please... just one last time... it was Mother's favorite thing to do when it snowed..."

The creature's bright eyes flashed a familiar, cool blue shade, and the great deity paused, contemplative. This being was a member of his flight, after all. Its eyes were just a shade too dark, though when it really felt pain, the true power showed through. He grinned slightly, an idea coming to mind.

He knelt beside the Imperial, lightly stroking its head. "A snow dragon, you say?" He smiled, his voice taking on a warmer tone. "What kind do you want, my child?"

The Imperial's eyes flickered in joy, and it gave a jovial squeak. It began to draw in the snow. "I... I want a.. I want a big, fluffy one! L-like the nice dragons who saved me..." It smiled and said, "And... with spots and runes... and patterns like Mother!"

It scribbled a crude, childish drawing of a Gaoler in the snow. The beast had large, elegant antlers like an Imperial, but the powerful, bulky physique of that of the Icewarden's creations. Its eyes trailed a glow like strobe lights, the strange, glowing apparatuses that the Icewarden had glimpsed while visiting the Lightning domain during their festival.

When it finished, the child squeaked, "I w-want a snow dragon... just like that one!"

The Icewarden smiled almost warmly, before he chuckled, "Of course. Just close your eyes, child... I'll create the perfect snow dragon..." He placed a paw on the Imperial's shoulder, and it squeaked, looking up at him with starry eyes.

"Just wait a moment," he assured. The Imp's eyes squeezed shut, and it covered its eyes with its little paws, chirping. The Icewarden hummed, "Just... a moment..."

The Imperial felt nothing, the icy magic striking its soul. What would have been a tingling, if not painful sensation was numbed by the cold, its form becoming engulfed in wintry energy.

With a flash and the crackling of magic, the breed-altering magic surged through the hatchling, and it fell, its once sinewy body now bulky and strong, its once silky mane now engulfing its body. Its once thin, curly antlers were now suited for battle instead of decoration, and its long, almost canine muzzle had shortened, yet strengthened.

The Icewarden smiled, admiring his work. Almost no traces of the youth's Imperial nature remained; its shudders ceased, its fur protecting it from the cold. Its form looked nearly identical to the so-called snow dragon, a twisted version of a child's fantasy.

"I have saved your life," the icy deity rumbled. He raised a paw, his Gaoler persona seeming to melt away as he rose to his full form and height. "Now you shall repay me, slowly and continuously..." The magic sparked once more, binding the poor hatchling's soul to the Icewarden's power. "In exchange for this gift, you shall serve as my new mortal vessel. Whenever I wish to interact with and glimpse into the mortal realm, you will comply, allowing me to take control."

The newly changed dragon seized up in its sleep, shaking and whimpering.

The Icewarden hissed, "Should you defy me... I'll take your form and power completely. You will die, and you will turn back into a weak Imperial, rising as a mindless Emperor moments later. Is that understood?"

The child could not answer, for it was unconscious. Nonetheless, its little soul beat with frosty magic, frozen to the core. The Icewarden looked upon it, proud of his work. A being directly descended from the flesh and blood of the Lightweaver, twisted into his own image. Another pawn in the game of dominance.

Mully's fate was sealed.
By PrinceBirb08