On a mediocre peak amongst the Evelard mountain range, a small cave, strewn in icicles and glittering frosty gems, saw the arrival of a new owner without much warning. The previous inhabitant lay bleeding, its body already torn to shreds as two gigantic beings blocked the entrance to peer within the homely environment. Their words cloaked those who heard them with an ancient wisdom, and understanding such a language is something many strived for but fell short of in one way or another.
Two adult dragons, beings larger than might and near impossible to kill. But the opposite is true at birth. They are weak and fragile, not to mention highly desirable. Days before birth, every dragon egg is left in a suitable environment in hopes it may grow strong and beat its wings to join its brethren.
It’s nothing like a mere tradition, but a critical matter of ensuring their kind remains in their position of dominance. To breed the aspect of dragons for generations to come.
After a few moments, their figures shifted slightly and allowed a large egg to float into the icy cave, taking residence next to the horribly strewn corpse. Within the egg, a faint heartbeat cried out, a clear desire to live against the odds. But still, it was too young, from within, it barely made out the words of its parents. Throughout the vague journey, it was both frightened and unwilling to accept that the words in its recently seen memories proved true.
One voice, a far gentler and kinder one said, “Leaving it here is still so cruel, surely there are safer places?” He liked this voice far more, it often nestled up to him and provided words of kindness. While he did not understand why the soft spoken voice did this, he understood that something was wrong.
Not in general… but with him specifically.
“If the mishap cannot even survive here… perhaps it would be better to remove its misery,” came the answer - the harsher and colder voice always frightened him. It was rarely kind, and any occasion where it was felt forced, like the parent never once cared. As neither of the two spoke for a few moments, the harsher voice retook the stage, “You are unwilling as well then? As long as it exhibits the behaviour of a dragon it stands a chance, so let us bless the child and leave. His survival will be due to strength or the dragon god’s will.”
Both dragons stopped speaking for a few moments, but began after a few moments of wayward thoughts. However, they changed to a language he hadn't heard before It gave him a mysterious sense of hope, a sense of direction in this black world of his tiny egg. Be a true dragon the harsh voice had said… was a mishap like him even capable of being a true dragon?
As their strange language grew heavier and heavier on his ears, a sudden sleepiness took over him. The chill of the cave could not have been comfier, and in a silent drift he entered a dream.
* * *
In this unreal imagination, he finally broke out of the shell which shackled him for months and saw the two dragons for the first time. One looked down on him with cold eyes, the other’s felt welcoming and warm though, without hesitation he crawled toward the latter.
But just as its tiny, four-legged body was about to touch the face of his caring parent… a barrier blocked his way.
Pushing, clawing, biting, and slamming his tiny frame against it… Nothing worked. It felt unbreakable and unmoving, like he would never be able to spend time with them.
And as he looked back up at them, the soothing words of the kinder one resonated within his ears, but were quickly drowned out by the utter contempt from the other. Those spiteful words which looked down on him.
“A weakling who cannot even survive, that is his existence.” Words he had heard more than once in the months prior.
And the hatchling could not think that far ahead, its lacking emotions replying with anger towards the uncaring beast that was supposed to protect him! He growled and attacked the barrier, using every muscle, every bone, every ounce of will.
If one were not enough, then he could do so ten times! If not ten then a hundred!
But in this seemingly endless pit of emotions and willpower, the little dragon never stopped to think. He completely forgot the strange words sending him to sleep, and he just wished to be in his parent’s hold once more. To prove he could be a proper dragon and have that mean voice apologise.
In the strange dream he never saw his own body, but it did not matter. He clearly felt it, every single action and movement. That was enough to continue striking the barrier.
And after what may have just been a few hours, or even a few days, a flake of the barrier disappeared. His head could barely slide through it!
He was so close, and all he needed was a few more till he could finally be re-united…
In the real world, a large egg shook slightly, rhythmically impacted from within over and over for days without rest. With every strike, the egg did not rock or shake, but instead rippled. Its surface vibrated, quickly dispersing the force trying to break it. But finally, just like in the world of his dream, a small flake broke away, landing on the icy cave floor nearby.
The desperate clawing and movement enlarged the hole, making it wider and wider until something finally pushed through it. Escaping the dreadful cage since birth, still in his dreamy state.
“Mama! Papa!” In a tongue he understood but barely spoke, the hatchling screamed out. “Mama? Papa?” Repeating the two words. Just hoping for a response… any response really.
“Ma…ma? Pa…” The little thing finally awoke and realised just where he was, and after seeing his strange egg felt like crying. But as he rotated his head to look at himself, seeing its small, gooey self no bigger than an overgrown lizard.
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His body was white and sweetly scented, claws appearing weak and flimsy. When he saw the egg and his own body, he already knew. “I’m a mistake,” the child could not sugarcoat the truth he heard tens of times by now.
How could something like him, body softer than flesh, possibly hope to survive in the wild. As he felt the first rush of cold air against his body, the pleasing temperature stunted his emotions for the smallest bit. Not enough to think clearly, but enough to stop him doing anything drastic.
Stepping towards the opening of the ice cave, the gusts of wind grew stronger and stronger. An almost continuous stream of snow crashed down layering on the already thick blanket outside with no end in sight. How could anything possibly survive up here with this sort of weather?
He found it unreasonable… and yet possibly his only chance at survival. He needed food, something his weak and barely solid-looking body could consume. The blood from that creature might have helped, but it froze into a solid sheet of ice ages ago, and that only left one thing.
Dragons are made to eat their eggs after birth, his memories simply told him to do it without questioning. And as everything else in his memories came after the line about eating the egg…
He slowly crawled on again, every limb unbearably slowly as the mushy substance that formed his body somehow bent like real muscle. He felt that he had no right to stand right here, to be called a dragon but be so unbearably weak.
Once at the egg, its small, smooth head extended out and bit into the shell, feeling it split apart into a thin shell and two layers of thick… sweet… delicious… He instantly realised the amazing taste of his own shell and began to dig into it. Tearing off the strangely smooth layers and crunching the shell in his mouth.
How did something so delicious exist? He wanted to eat it all day for the rest of his life, not that he had high hopes for living long anyway.
But only quarter-way through eating the egg, a strange feeling overcame the hatchling. His body felt heavy and close to exploding. Almost immediately, he spat out the shell in his mouth in fear the next piece killed him.
Skimming through the vague memories in his mind, one of the lines talked of overeating. That while food was required for survival, too much of a good thing did exist. Dragons avoided doing so lest something snuck up on them in this state. More than that, another wave of sleepiness hit him again. And without any other possibility, he chose to give in for the night.
In those peaceful hours as a frightful snowstorm continued beyond his cave, the young dragon had his first nightmare.
At first, it could not have been more pleasant - a dream of having an infinite supply of those sumptuous and sweet eggs for him to eat forever! He felt no tiredness or bloat, just getting to have more and more… But then he ran out!
He was upset at first, finding out his food source ran out but soon realised a scary fact.
His squishy body smelt the same as the eggs… And- And it was just one lick!
But then he found it too good to pass up, by the time he realised what happened a portion of his leg had vanished. It only got worse, as he unknowingly ate away more of his own body in faint lapses of consciousness. First his front legs, then somehow his back legs, and as the lapses passed he felt his body growing shorter and shorter and…
The young dragon woke up in fear, bawling in a tightly wound ball at the fear and horror of it all. Getting a noseful of his body and recoiling almost immediately.
He did not know what to do… and it struck him soon after. He had to check. Just one lick. To prove to himself it was just a nightmare and would never come to fruition. With nothing more than a flash of that soft tongue, he felt it scrape off some of the soft substance forming his leg… tasting that delectable substance again.
And just as much as he wanted to cry out or spit it out, he felt unable to. All the fear in him vanished for even more curiosity and wonder, doing his best to carefully read every line in his memories to see just what this was.
But what is the breadth of a dragon’s inherited memories? A small book? A large one?
Of course not, it is best said that every dragon is born with a library of knowledge within them. Some information is simply given up front so the baby survives their first week. And this hatchling, even if a mistake, contained no less knowledge. It eventually found something talking about what it saw, and finally knew how to respond to the box hanging in mid-air.
[Self-Inflicted Damage: <1%]
In the draconic tongue he tried his best to say, “Close.” The words were somewhat wrong, but the box understood his meaning and simply vanished into thin air. Reading his memories some more, the information following gave him some other commands.
The box’s words had not gone unheard, and now he was completely sure of nothing ever being allowed to lick him. Absolutely never!
“View Nexus?” Questioning if what the book claimed was true, he just said the words to the best of his capabilities. And just as it said… a new box appeared,
Name
Title
Species
Dragon
Bloodline
Vanilla Ice-cream
HP
100%
MP
100%
Level
0
EXP
50%
Strength
0
Luck
0
Agility
0
Growth
0
Magic
0
Mutation Rate
0
Was that a zero in… every regard? Impossible! Even as a mistake of a dragon he should not be this weak! “Why are they all zero?” He absolutely had to ask, because if a dragon was this weak he stood no chance.
The Nexus replied instantly,
[The Nexus provides boosts to various attributes, right now you are level 0 and thus have no points in any of the boostable fields]
Instant relief passed through the little dragon, realising his mistake and looking through the memories a bit more carefully this time. Indeed, just a few lines from where he left off it mentioned that fact anyway. The book also defined the first five of those fields, only Mutation Rate left him confused. However, it claimed that the Nexus is obligated to answer questions about itself and he wanted to try it out, “Nexus, what does mutation rate mean?”
[Mutation Rate: Due to unstable bloodline, you may boost the instability to acquire stranger bloodline paths at every evolution. Each point represents a 10% boost]
Perhaps he really did have a chance if he held the will of a true dragon.