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Quintillion here is the other half of your order. i hope you liked it! i really enjoyed the story and the opportunity for symbolism that it provided. i chose to write about their first meeting. thank you so much for your orders and i'd love to write about your dragons again sometime :D first is the story, below is the code (there are many italics).
Mythal & Dreena
My feet cradle the ground, the warmth of the sun emanating from the dirt. The breeze is soft and sweet; it carries with it the tones of wildflowers and a distant river. It is a beautiful day, but something seems slightly off. As I walk out of the inn, something calls me to the orchard.
Trees stretch tall and wide, leaves above causing ripples in the sunlit path. The branches are bountiful, sweet clusters of fruit dangling from their limbs like a dare. Reaching up to snatch a few fruits, the tree drops a few into my palm. I clutch them carefully, stopping for a moment as the unsettling feeling grows to its peak. I peer around myself, slowly turning around in a circle. The chirping and buzzing of cicadas seem far too loud, swelling with the chirping of midday birds.
All of a sudden, a fruit falls and hits me square on the head. “Ow.” I rub my head absentmindedly, even though it didn’t really hurt that bad. Force of habit. Glancing up, I hear a small noise. Is that… laughter? No… It can’t be.
Squinting, I can just make out the ghostly gold outline of what looks to be a spirit. “Hey!” I shout, waving my hand (and the fruits in them) up at her. “What are you doing up there? Did you just drop this on me?”
She sniggers. “I can’t help but toss them around, they’re so juicy and sweet. Wouldn’t you like to have one right about now? It’s a rather hot day… I’m sure you’re absolutely parched…”
I’m blinking up at her, and then glance back down at my palm, where several bright yellow fruits rest, waiting. My tastebuds are throbbing, tongue dry.
Why not? I pop one into my mouth.
Stars burst inside of my maw, saliva flooding in at record rates. It feels like there’s an insect holding onto my tongue, piercing right through its tender flesh. I spit out the fruit, and it bounces weakly on the ground, innocent. I curse. “What did you do?”
My snarl amuses her. Her cackling erupts from above, and then beside me. “Not much. I just let the world feel what’s inside of me, that’s all.”
“And why do you find that necessary? Couldn’t you have just gotten it out in some other way?”
She raises an eyebrow, lounging etherically on the dirt before me. “No. I liked it when your tongue tasted the sourness. It’s as close as I can get.” Flowing silks that were worn by her old self flutter valiantly, though the breeze has stopped. She licks her lips.
I take a deep breath. “Let me guess. This isn’t the first time that you’ve done something like this.”
“Hmmm… Nope!” She grins sarcastically, sharp fangs spreading across her face.
“I doubt you feel any remorse, either.”
“Of course not. What do I have to feel remorse for?” A darker look comes over her eyes. “
They should feel remorse. They should feel remorse for what they did to
me.”
I take a seat on the ground in front of her. “You must think yourself very special. Pretty unique to be a spirit who causes trouble for the living due to the grief they’ve had in their past.”
Her face contorts, eyes narrowing. “What are you trying to say?”
The calmness of the day around me is deceiving. The sky is bright. A leaf falls quickly from a tree above, hitting the earth softly. Each second I breathe, I treasure it. Oxygen enters my lungs, and I hold it there briefly, before letting it go.
Standing up to an angry spirit is not a smart thing to do.
“You aren’t any different from the others. You leave the same impact on this world as the impact that was left on you. You might enjoy seeing a dragon’s face twist due to sourness, but you don’t stick around long enough to see the aftermath.” I gesture far behind me, where the inn’s mouth meets the orchard’s road. “I run an inn. You cursed the fruit of my orchard. Would it bring you such great joy to see me lose my business? To lose my home?”
The spirit before me shrinks. I grow in size. “Do you think it’s funny? Does it
amuse you? Is my pain as significant as yours, or are we mortals merely a toy to you? All you are doing is continuing the cycle of immorality. There is a difference between a playful spirit and a spiteful one, and you are the latter.”
Her silence is gentle in the face of my words. “So… What do I do?” She seems… willing.
I’m quiet. “Well… There isn’t much
to do.” The cicadas fade into the background. I sit. The world is large. I’m smaller than I can imagine. I breathe. “I’m going to go back into my inn. I’m going to learn how to make lemon tarts. And I’m going to go to sleep.”
The spirit trembles. I can feel something cracking deep within her.
Lemon tarts. I stand, and turn away from her. I walk down the road.
I can feel her moving behind me.
“What are you doing?”
“Coming with you.”
“And why’s that?”
She’s quiet for a moment.
“I want to make lemon tarts."
Code:
My feet cradle the ground, the warmth of the sun emanating from the dirt. The breeze is soft and sweet; it carries with it the tones of wildflowers and a distant river. It is a beautiful day, but something seems slightly off. As I walk out of the inn, something calls me to the orchard.
Trees stretch tall and wide, leaves above causing ripples in the sunlit path. The branches are bountiful, sweet clusters of fruit dangling from their limbs like a dare. Reaching up to snatch a few fruits, the tree drops a few into my palm. I clutch them carefully, stopping for a moment as the unsettling feeling grows to its peak. I peer around myself, slowly turning around in a circle. The chirping and buzzing of cicadas seem far too loud, swelling with the chirping of midday birds.
All of a sudden, a fruit falls and hits me square on the head. “Ow.” I rub my head absentmindedly, even though it didn’t really hurt that bad. Force of habit. Glancing up, I hear a small noise. Is that… laughter? No… It can’t be.
Squinting, I can just make out the ghostly gold outline of what looks to be a spirit. “Hey!” I shout, waving my hand (and the fruits in them) up at her. “What are you doing up there? Did you just drop this on me?”
She sniggers. “I can’t help but toss them around, they’re so juicy and sweet. Wouldn’t you like to have one right about now? It’s a rather hot day… I’m sure you’re absolutely parched…”
I’m blinking up at her, and then glance back down at my palm, where several bright yellow fruits rest, waiting. My tastebuds are throbbing, tongue dry. [i]Why not?[/i] I pop one into my mouth.
Stars burst inside of my maw, saliva flooding in at record rates. It feels like there’s an insect holding onto my tongue, piercing right through its tender flesh. I spit out the fruit, and it bounces weakly on the ground, innocent. I curse. “What did you do?”
My snarl amuses her. Her cackling erupts from above, and then beside me. “Not much. I just let the world feel what’s inside of me, that’s all.”
“And why do you find that necessary? Couldn’t you have just gotten it out in some other way?”
She raises an eyebrow, lounging etherically on the dirt before me. “No. I liked it when your tongue tasted the sourness. It’s as close as I can get.” Flowing silks that were worn by her old self flutter valiantly, though the breeze has stopped. She licks her lips.
I take a deep breath. “Let me guess. This isn’t the first time that you’ve done something like this.”
“Hmmm… Nope!” She grins sarcastically, sharp fangs spreading across her face.
“I doubt you feel any remorse, either.”
“Of course not. What do I have to feel remorse for?” A darker look comes over her eyes. “[i]They[/i] should feel remorse. They should feel remorse for what they did to [i]me.[/i]”
I take a seat on the ground in front of her. “You must think yourself very special. Pretty unique to be a spirit who causes trouble for the living due to the grief they’ve had in their past.”
Her face contorts, eyes narrowing. “What are you trying to say?”
The calmness of the day around me is deceiving. The sky is bright. A leaf falls quickly from a tree above, hitting the earth softly. Each second I breathe, I treasure it. Oxygen enters my lungs, and I hold it there briefly, before letting it go.
Standing up to an angry spirit is not a smart thing to do.
“You aren’t any different from the others. You leave the same impact on this world as the impact that was left on you. You might enjoy seeing a dragon’s face twist due to sourness, but you don’t stick around long enough to see the aftermath.” I gesture far behind me, where the inn’s mouth meets the orchard’s road. “I run an inn. You cursed the fruit of my orchard. Would it bring you such great joy to see me lose my business? To lose my home?”
The spirit before me shrinks. I grow in size. “Do you think it’s funny? Does it [i]amuse[/i] you? Is my pain as significant as yours, or are we mortals merely a toy to you? All you are doing is continuing the cycle of immorality. There is a difference between a playful spirit and a spiteful one, and you are the latter.”
Her silence is gentle in the face of my words. “So… What do I do?” She seems… willing.
I’m quiet. “Well… There isn’t much [i]to[/i] do.” The cicadas fade into the background. I sit. The world is large. I’m smaller than I can imagine. I breathe. “I’m going to go back into my inn. I’m going to learn how to make lemon tarts. And I’m going to go to sleep.”
The spirit trembles. I can feel something cracking deep within her. [i]Lemon tarts.[/i] I stand, and turn away from her. I walk down the road.
I can feel her moving behind me.
“What are you doing?”
“Coming with you.”
“And why’s that?”
She’s quiet for a moment.
“I want to make lemon tarts.”
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you can feel free to ask me to write more!! at certain times the delay might be longer because next week is finals week for me and i'm going to be studying soon. i'm absolutely thrilled to hear that you liked everything so much!! it makes me very happy to hear that you enjoy my pieces!! 
