I crawl out of my den for the morning hunt. Before taking flight, I glance at one of my wings
They resemble a cross between bat and pterosaur wings. Three separate digits with claws and two digits covered by a leathery membrane. There's also a sixth structure that looks like a finger, but I'm sure it's not. This structure is also covered by the membrane of my wing, providing additional support.
I take flight. The feeling is incredible.
I see some creatures fleeing when they spot me. It has been years since I was reincarnated as a wyvern. To be honest, I'm not sure if I'm a wyvern or a true dragon. I've seen other creatures like me, but I've never encountered a classic dragon. You know, the ones with six limbs. Four legs and a pair of wings…
Actually, I've never seen any creature whose anatomy was very different from that of my original world.
For instance, there's this bird-like creature with claws on its wings. It walks on all fours when it’s on the ground.
At first, I thought it might be some kind of wyvern since I've seen some of my kind with feathers. But this type of creature had a beak. It's the closest thing to a griffon I've seen around here.
Perhaps there are no creatures with six limbs, like griffons, pegasi, centaurs, or classic dragons. Only the versions with four limbs. Maybe I am a true dragon and not a wyvern.
I’ve seen a few dragon-like creatures during this lifetime. But I have only spoken to one of them so far, and it wasn't exactly a conversation...
Korath is a white-feathered wyvern that lives in the snow-covered mountains to the west. She is three times larger than me. Definitely an adult wyvern. And yet, I ended up fighting her during one of my rampages.
This was two years ago, right after I started having dreams about my past life. I had just woken up from a kind of hibernation and found out that the goblin minions I had captured were gone.
I was hungry, cold and irritable as I tried to cross the mountain range. When I saw that white wyvern, I thought she breathed ice, and for some reason, I engaged in a battle with her.
I remember shouting some stupid remark like "Stop making it snow, ice eater!" But to my surprise, she breathed a lightning in my face. I didn't stand a chance.
Korath spared my life only with that warning shot. She took pity on me for being a stray wyrmling shouting nonsense in Goblinoid. Well, Goblinoid is the only language I know how to speak. And the goblins I had captured were stupid. Very stupid.
And now I'm flying towards another creature that resembles a dragon. This beast is enormous. Very, very large.
That is not a wyvern, but rather a type of drake, I suppose. It doesn't have wings, but instead four legs. Its body is nearly ten times larger than mine and covered in brown scales that resemble rocks.
I first saw it years ago, but I never had the courage to approach it. But now I need answers. The giant beast must be very ancient and surely holds some of the answers I seek.
As I land near it, the titan seems to ignore me. It is lying in its usual spot, a field of rocks and wild herbs. His brown scales are often covered in moss during this time of year.
I approach slowly and see one of its eyes open. The beast speaks something in a language I don't know. I remember it's the same language Korath spoke until she realized I didn't understand her.
"I don't understand." I speak in Goblinoid.
The beast looks at me seriously as its eyes glow blue.
"You have grown, wyrmling. It's a pity you do not speak our language." His words catch me by surprise. He was now speaking English. And inside my head!
"Do you know me?" I ask, concerned.
"You used to fly over me, watching. At that time, you were just a hatchling. But look at you now... In a few decades, you shall be a full-grown dragon."
"You call me a dragon, but am I not a wyvern?" I inquire.
"Wyverns, drakes, amphitheres, loongs... we are all dragons." The beast speaks with its mental voice, deep and ancient. "From the smallest of dragonettes to the largest of leviathans."
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"And what about dragons that resemble drakes but have wings on their backs?"
"Those are mythological creatures. They exist only in the Astral plane, just like angels, demons and fae." He responds with a grin.
So I truly am a dragon. And it seems that dragons with six limbs don't exist. At least not in the physical plane.
"What is your name, ancient one?" I ask, now with more confidence.
"I am called Ralkor, the Marching Mountain." He answers.
Well, I understood the part about him being a mountain, but I've never seen him walk, let alone march... I am 3m (10’) tall, and my wingspan measures 9m (30’). Ralkor, lying down, is 6m (20’) tall. When standing, he must reach twice that height. And his length... It must be around 40m (130’) or more from head to tail…
"And what is your name?" The titan asks.
"Vareg…"
"A goblinoid name..." He says with a tone of sorrow. "How old are you, child?"
"I have been alive for eight springs, at least..."
"That is unlikely. You are not counting the time you spent hibernating to grow from a hatchling to a wyrmling. You must be at least 30 years old."
What? I slept for over two decades. Now I understand why my goblin minions escaped. Well, technically they were hostages...
"You could confirm your age in your life scroll, but I suppose you do not know how to use it."
"Life scroll?" I ask as the beast lets out a sigh.
"What negligent parents you have.” He says as I grind my teeth. I never met my dragon parents. At least they didn't force me into therapy.
"For your luck, I can teach you how to use it. First of all, you need to learn how to read..."
"I know how to read." I interrupt Ralkor's explanation, and he looks at me intrigued.
"How curious... But that will save time. And time is something I do not currently possess. Now come closer..."
I approach the elder and he points one of his claws towards my forehead. It glows blue, but I don't feel any hostility. Quickly, I close my eyes and feel a surge of energy entering my mind. When I open them again, I see an ethereal scroll floating in front of me with writings in English.
§ § § § § §
Name: Vareg | Race: Copper Wyvern | Class: Barbarian 2 Fighter 1
Title: None | Background: Savage | Age: 37 y.o (wyrmling)
Size: Large | Speed: 9m (30’), Flight 18m (60’)
HP: 74 | MP: 12 | Defense: 18
Attributes: Strength 4 | Dexterity 2 | Vigor 3 | Intellect 0 | Senses 0 | Charisma 0
Skills: Athletics, Fortitude, Initiative, Intimidation, Fighting, Survival, Will
Features: Unarmed Attack, Dragon Breath (Fire), Draconic Scales (Fire), Monster Vitality, Darkvision, Rage, Dragon Flight
§ § § § § §
"Oh… I see."
"Good!" Ralkor smiles at me. I must be looking like an idiot as I read my stats.
"I'm 37 years old."
"Such a young wyrmling. You will reach adulthood around 100 years old. And you will become an elder like me when you approach a thousand years."
"Will I be as big as you?"
"I'm afraid not. Your kind doesn't grow as large as mine. However, you will still be huge." He says as I look at him with a disappointed and annoyed look.
"But perhaps you will grow just as much as I do. It will depend on your magical power." Ralkor grins at me.
"What do you mean?"
"The larger the Wyvern, the more magical power it needs to take flight. Those who grow larger than they should end up grounded. And a Wyvern that cannot fly is certainly dead." He explains.
Magical power must be related to mana. My MP is much smaller than my HP. This is a problem.
"Could you teach me how to improve my flying ability?"
"I'm afraid not. I am an earth dragon, as you can see. Something of my size flying would be quite a sight." Ralkor laughs as he imagines the havoc he would wreak if he could fly.
"The largest flying dragons are the loongs. They fly solely through magic, as they do not possess wings. However, they are not capable of flying long distances like your kind.
"And where can I find a loong dragon?"
"Most of them live on a distant continent. But lucky for you, a wandering loong came to me a few years ago. He settled to the west, near the coast."
West... I'll need to go through the Korath’s Mountains to get there... Or go around.
"His name is Renxing and he should not be much older than you… If you find him, you can grow strong together, as companions or rivals."
"I will go to him before the end of this season."
"But first, you must learn the language of our kin, because the other dragons might not be as understanding and patient as me or Korath. There is an orc shaman in the southern steppes. He is blind, with milky eyes. This shaman knows our language and can teach you."
"But why can't you teach me?"
"Because the time has come..."
"What time?"
"It is time for me to sleep once again. But before that, I must give you a name. A dragon name." He points one of his claws towards me.
"From now on, you shall be Akalani, the Red Sky. Your fire shall light the darkest nigths, full of terrors, or scorch the whole land. Now, fly, little wyrmling, and return here when you are a true dragon." Ralkor speaks as his eyes slowly close.
And once again, the Marching Mountain enters its deep slumber.