Deathjaw beat his powerful wings and launched himself into the sky, the euphoric feeling of freedom that flight brought flooding through his veins. His palace shrank below rapidly and the lovely face of his human wife became a speck in a larger painting. He made his way for the clouds. Even though he was just visiting his farms on the other side of his dragon estate, he could never be too careful. He carried precious cargo in his talons. His daughter, White Fire, clutched fiercely to his claws. Deathjaw himself handled her carefully. She was much too precious to lose.
As a purely white dragon, Deathjaw blended perfectly into the sky and he hopped from cloud to cloud as he made his way to the eastern farms. He was strong and proud enough to normally make this journey in the open, but with White Fire coming along, he did want to tempt a duel between himself and any younger dragon looking to claim its own state by taking his. White Fire was still too young to get involved in such matters. Though she was dragonborn, half human and half dragon, it was still a few years before she would be tall enough and strong enough to stand up to other dragons. Not for the first time he contemplated hiring a dragonist to help protect his daughter. There was Owen... But no, he had had enough of their kind while serving in Darknight’s court. It would be years before his daughter mixed with that ragtag group of scholars and warriors, if he had his way.
“Father, the clouds are so wet and cold!” White Fire’s strong voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “How long will it take to get to the farms,” she complained.
Deathjaw craned his neck and eyed his daughter. She had the same piercing blue eyes as he did with a mane of hair as brilliantly white as his scales. Otherwise, she was her the image of her mother, if only smaller. Her face was at the moment pouty and he could not help but smile at her.
“It will not take long. Just a few more clouds and we will be there,” he rumbled.
“But your estate is much larger than that,” White Fire exclaimed. “I’ve seen your maps!”
Deathjaw chuckled. “I am a large and powerful dragon, little flame. It doesn’t take me long to get anywhere I need to go.”
His daughter plopped herself down in his palm and crossed her arms. “Why don’t dragonborn also get wings like their dragon parents? Then I could really fly with you,” she added excitedly.
“You know very well that not all dragon have wings,” Deathjaw said, shaking his head. “And I wish I had an answer for you. The Dragon God knows you above all dragonborn deserves her own wings, but in his infinite wisdom he did not make it so.”
“I wish I could talk to him,” White Fire said grumpily. “I’d convince him that we dragonborn deserve to fly just like real dragons. And that he should give all dragons wings! Flying is the best thing ever!”
Deathjaw laughed again at the simple thinking of a child, but she was right. Flying was amazing. It also amused him that she, a tiny girl, would even want to talk with the Dragon God. Even most dragons balked at the idea of meeting their god. Possibly because most of them did not worship him as they should.
“I think I will someday. I’ll meet the Dragon God face to face. The first dragonborn in seven thousand years to do so!”
White Fire had a strong sense of imagination and adventure, but one day she would learn the harsher truths about this world. Deathjaw, however, had much more immediate lessons to teach her. She was traveling with him today to a learn a few of them. She was going to learn what it was like to be a worker in the fields. She would know the smell of dirt, sweat, and manure and come to love them for what they brought. She would learn to sympathize with the dragons and humans who worked the farms. Knowing her people and having empathy for them was a critical step in becoming a wise and benevolent ruler.
Just as he had promised White Fire, Deathjaw soon descended from the puffy and cold clouds to the sprawling farmlands down below. Racker was easily visible, the giant blue drake leading the human farmers in plowing the fields. They had on Deathjaw’s orders left a particularly rocky and difficult lot for White Fire to work on. She was going to learn the hard way about a farmer’s rough life. Though he could not see him yet, Deathjaw also knew that Gamomime was down there, helping to oversee the work.
The white dragon landed gently on a grassy hill next to the dusty plow fields. He opened his claws and let White Fire jump down and roll on the soft grass. A small, black anthropomorphic dragon came streaking out of a barn on the other side of the fields, beating his wings frantically. Gamomime looked to be in his usual state of excitement.
“Oh my! Lord Deathjaw, I didn’t expect you to show up so soon,” the small dragon rambled as soon as he was in earshot of the two. “Of course I didn’t miss that you were coming today! I’d be a terrible steward if that were the case, which obviously I’m not, and so obviously that disaster has been averted. Bt let me just say-”
“Please, Gamomime,” Deathjaw said, raising up a claw to forestall the other dragon’s ditherings. “There’s no need to get all flustered about my arrival. And because you are such a good steward, I know that everything was made ready for my visit a month before I even mentioned that White Fire and myself would be coming.”
His daughter gave a small laugh. She always told him in private that she thought Gamomime would fit in better as a member of the home staff, and probably as a jester. With all of the pouches hanging from the vest he wore and funny, jerky way he had of moving, Deathjaw personally agreed that the smaller dragon more than looked the part. But out in the country was where Gamomime’s heart resided. A small group of human rushed across the freshly plowed fields, hollering at the steward.
“It seems as though you left the elders and accountants rather quickly,” Deathjaw observed. “What’s the matter, that they are chasing you so doggedly?”
‘What! What? Oh, that, hm. Yes, they are complaining that we should think about trading with other dragonlords, or maybe even a free city. Absolute rubbish of course, but from what they say Stormeye is offering farmers and dragon lords in the area very, very good prices on their grain, and especially their vegetables. A few dragonlords have already taken up the offers,” Gamomime fretted.
“White Fire, perk up and pay attention. This is important. You can always roll around on the grass when we get back home,” the white dragon chided his daughter. “Hm, it appears as though that snake, Stormeye, thinks he can encroach on Darknight’s territory through economics. Very shrewd of him. But all the more cowardly.”
Deathjaw had a few choice words he would have loved to have said about the other dragon, but his daughter was present. He had already made her wash her mouth out with soap when he heard her call one of the guards an “egg-breaker.” Though he knew he couldn’t prove such an accusation yet, Deathjaw was convinced that Stormeye’s generous offers were nothing more than an attempt to buy out his own people. Stormeye wanted to dethrone Darknight as badly as ay dragon desired treasure to sleep on, and he especially wanted Deathjaw out of the way. There was very bad blood between them. Mostly on the account that he had killed a number of Stormeye’s best warriors, and the Dragon King was secretly scared to death of one day facing Deathjaw in battle.
“In any case, you are wise to dissuade them in this, Gamomime. I am very pleased with your work. Now, I suggest you bring the elders under control while I introduce White Fire to Racker. Afterwards, I’ll speak with them personally and see if we cannot put an end to any future notions of dealing with Stormeye.” He then addressed his daughter, “Come little flame, it’s time that we got to work.”
White Fire happily jogged alongside him as he made his way to the field. He walked slowly enough for her to keep pace with him. Up ahead was a great, blue drake, who easily stood above the fruits trees around the fields. Racker was about his work, a giant smile slashing across his craggy face, pulling multiple plows behind him as teams of oxen led by humans flanked him. The beasts of burden did not spook when Deathjaw approached; they were very used to dragons, being around Racker all day. The giant blue dragon gave his lord a massive grin and small bow before calling the teams to halt. He unlatched his plows and gingerly stepped through the rows to the duo.
“Deathjaw, it is great to see you again old friend. And polish my scales! If this isn’t little White Fire! You’ve grown, what, a foot since I last saw you?” His deep voice was pleasant and soothing.
“Hey! Don’t treat me as if I’m that little! I’m not,” White Fire huffed. “And one day I’ll stand over seven feet tall! Just you wait!”
Racker threw his head back and laughed. “You should have named her Spit Fire! That might be more appropriate with her temperament.”
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“Her temperament is just fine,” Deathjaw replied, nudging his daughter with a talon and knocking her down. “She just needs to control it and her tongue a bit better. Some good, back breaking work always help with that I’ve found.”
“That it does,” Racker agreed.
“Wait a moment, I thought we were doing lessons today,” White Fire said, suddenly realizing that there would be real work involved on this adventure.
“Hands-on exercises are always the ones we remember the best,” her father told her gently but firmly. “Racker here will get you situated and help you with using a plow.” He gestured to one of the devices hitched behind the oxen. “I need to sort out the whole trading problem with the elders and accountants, and then I’ll be right there to help you with your lesson. I promise.”
White Fire at first looked glum, but her expression brightened. If her father said that he was going to be there, she could count on it. Deathjaw prided himself on being a dragon of his word. He would never break a promise, even a simple one to his daughter about working with her in the dusty fields. Especially one to his daughter!
Racker beckoned White Fire to him and a group of farmers walked over to help her become familiar with the horses and the feel of the plow. Deathjaw smiled at her and then readied himself mentally to meet with the elders in the barn. Of course they would listen to him when he told them to do something, but the prospect of more money was always appealing. His humans especially loved to have extra cash on hand when he invited the carnivals into his estate at the end of the harvest season. Sure enough, that was one of their main concerns as he tried to assure them that selling to Stormeye was not their best option. He might provide them with more money, but his coin would put a noose around their necks as assuredly as a Demon Dragon hoarded human souls.
There was suddenly a shift in the pressure of Deathjaw’s ears. He could feel the beating of powerful wings. A sense of impending danger washed over him and his parental instincts went into high gear. He tore from the barn and ran for the field where he knew White Fire should be. The sweaty but happy face of his daughter turned to him as a purple and gold dragon fell out of the air. Racker let loose a cry and covered White Fire. He received a scoring of claws along his back for protecting her. Deathjaw let loose his own vicious roar and charged, driving the assailant back.
The purple and gold dragon fluttered back and landed on the far side of the stony field. He crushed a pair of humans under his claws who had been too slow in getting away. Deathjaw ached for the loss of human life that had just happened before him. He would end this confrontation quickly.
“What do you want here,” he snarled. “These are my farms, my people, my estate! Get out of here and never return!”
The other dragon laughed and blew purple flames into the air. “You really have gotten soft, old worm! I can see it in your eyes! You’re sad that two vermine just got popped under my claws. Bah! To think that a warrior such as yourself is rolling around with humans in their filth. You disgust me, Lack-Jaw!”
This newcomer sounded very young, and he was obviously contemptuous of Deathjaw and his lifestyle. Deathjaw was still furious, but he spoke more calmly this time. “Are you simply here to insult me? Or are you here to try and take my estate? Or were you sent here? Answer me quickly, hatchling.”
“My name is Royalwings,” the younger dragon sniffed. “No, I was not sent here, though there is a wonderfully high bounty on your head. No, I came here to prove that you have fallen and in the process take your lands and your woman! I hear she is very beautiful. I would have thought at first that she is here, but the girl I see can only be your brat.”
“Racker, please take my daughter back and guard her,” Deathjaw instructed to the drake. “But make sure that she can see this duel. She must see it.”
“Yes Deathjaw,” Racker said, and he scooped White Fire into his claws and moved behind his dragon lord.
Deathjaw strode forward, his eyes turning red. Royalwings shuffled a bit, but fell into a battle stance. It was hard to not feel nervous when facing a Fire Dragon who was going berserk. Most Fire Dragons required bloodshed or getting hurt to turn their eyes red and go berserk. Deathjaw could go berserk at will. The danger was now if Royal Wings was going to attack with magic first or with his special weapon. Each dragon had at least one trick up his or hers scales. Deathjaw’s was one of the most feared in the entire world. At least Royalwings was not flying away screaming for mercy, but he would pay for coming here.
Deathjaw cast a spell of warding around himself and the onlookers. Royalwings emitted deep violet flames from his scales and charged Deathjaw. As the flames hit the warding spell they were turned back. But the spell did not stop physical things from coming through. The two dragons clashed. Royalwings was faster, but Deathjaw was precise. His scales deflected the slashes from the younger dragon and he landed savage blows at the joints of both his opponent’s wings. He would have a very hard time flying now. Another blow went across Royalwings’ muzzle and sent him crashing into the ground.
There was an opening to finish the fight, but Deathjaw did not take it. He had to punish this hatchling first and prove that it was futile to fight him. The younger dragon leaped his feet and tried to climb on top of Deathjaw. Deathjaw roared and dug his talons into the underbelly of his enemy. Royalwings cried out in pain. Deathjaw reared onto his hind legs and lifted the other dragon over his head, before swinging him down hard into the ground. The sound was deafening, but he knew that bones were cracking underneath his claws. Deathjaw then threw Royalwings to the side. Once outside of his wards, the younger dragon’s flames sprang back to life.
“You’ve got this father! Kill him for what he’s done,” White Fire called out to him.
Royalwings got up shakily and winced with pain. He cast a healing spell on himself and probed Deathjaw’s wards with a spike of energy. Deathjaw could feel his spell tremble, but it held. He grabbed up some dirt in his claw and blew it at the younger dragon while using his magic. Royalwings’ flames were trapped in a magical case of clay that formed all along his body when the dust hit him. He was also paralyzed and blinded. Deathjaw quietly situated himself behind his enemy.
The young dragon finally muscled his way through the clay trap and broke free. Deathjaw then grabbed him from behind and bit down on Royalwings’ neck. He pumped heat through his teeth into the scales and flesh of the other dragon. This was his special weapon, the ability to incinerate anything he clamped his jaws on. It was his name’s sake. Royalwings gasped with pain.
“Please! Please don’t! I’ll do anyth-”
Deathjaw shut the dragon’s maw shut with a powerful claw. He then turned up the heat. His daughter cheered him on, calling for her father to kill the intruder. Deathjaw held the younger dragon for a moment. The moment between life and death.
He then let Royalwings go.
“Leave my state at once, and never return,” Deathjaw snarled. “And know this, I have shown you mercy this day! Mercy is what has saved you. May it grace your life from this time henceforth. But if you ever come against me or mine ever again, you will have forfeit that mercy, and you will die.”
Royalwings whimpered. He then turned and took off, frantically trying to heal his wings and put as much distance between himself and Deathjaw as possible. Deathjaw snorted at the young dragon’s retreating back. He then turned to Racker.
“Let me heal that wound, old fiend,” he said as he waved a claw over the gashes. They quickly sealed up.
“Thank you,” Racker breathed.
People were emerging from their hiding places and cheered their dragonlord. He had surely saved them from a young tyrant. White Fire, however, fixed her dad with a curious expression.
“Father, why didn’t you kill that Royal Pain? Ypou ould have gorged hs flank first! And then you could have set him on fire! But you didn’t. He came here to kill you and attack mom! He deserves to die!”
Deathjaw stroked his daughter’s cheek lightly with a claw and gave her a sad smile.
“Little flame, this was a lesson I hoped you wouldn’t have to learn so soon, but it can’t be helped.” She continued to give him a confused look. “This world of ours is big, dangerous, and often unforgiving. Most dragons believe that if they can get away with something, then it is right. As a result, most humans believe the same way. But this is wrong. There is goodness in restraint, and mercy will ultimately have a greater effect than completely vanquishing your enemies. That is why I have these farms, why I run my estate the way I do. I want to show dragons, dragonborn, and humans everywhere that there is a better way to live.”
“But Father, he was going to kill you! He didn’t care about mercy!” White Fire put her fists onto her hips.
“Not before, but he does now. He will forever know that I could have killed him, but I spared him. And that might do him some good. But I hope even more that it will do you some good,” he explained kindly. His heart was still racing, though; his precious daughter had been closer to violence today than he wanted for years yet to come.
White Fire was mulling over his words. Finally she said, “I’ll try to understand, Father.”
“You will one day,” Deathjaw smiled down at her.
“Father… Is this why you have your title?”
“Yes,” he rumbled. “This is why.”
He watched the horizon, where Royalwings was finally disappearing, having regained the ability to fly. Deathjaw the Merciful rumbled in contentment and then nudged his daughter affectionately with his snout.
“Come little flame, let’s you, I, and everyone get some refreshment and take a breather. We’ll bury the dead and tomorrow pick up again with your lesson.”
“What,” White Fire exclaimed. “After all of that? And plowing this field? Father, there’s stones every inch! I hate farming!”
“Trust me little one, you will come to love a day of honest, brutal labor. It will be one of the most relaxing things you can do, and wonderfully productive and rewarding.”
“I highly doubt that,” White Fire grumbled.
Deathjaw prodded her along. He silently hoped that word of this did not get back to his wife before he had a chance to explain things to her in person.