‘I’m a little scared.’ Ezekiel thought, watching his new parents. After eating, they were properly fueled to go into ‘crazy parent mode’. Having discovered their son’s amazingness, they started to establish a plan of attack. Namely picking him up, spinning around, and squealing loudly.

Or at least Deitrick did. Isolde sniffled in the background, wiping profound tears from her eye. “My baby!” and “My little Ezekiel!” were thrown about chaotically (both the words, and the person).

Ezekiel squirmed in his father's arms. “Too… much… love!” he gasped out, struggling to breathe. Deitrick disappointedly placed Ezekiel back onto the ground. “Ahem.” He cleared his throat, attempting to gather his remaining dignity. He had never been one for flashy actions or people, usually remaining calm and collected. The current situation was a bit outside his comfort zone.

Isolde pursed her lips, and asked the question they were all thinking. “Sooo… What do we do now?”

Deitrick answered soothingly, “We’ll figure something out. Nothing is too much for me!” He then spoke to Ezekiel, in a confidential tone, “You are my heir, so something special is to be expected of you.”

Isolde shook her head. “Perhaps not this much, but you're right. My Ezekiel should be treated properly. We should call in all the best teachers. He needs a well rounded academic education, someone who can help him learn to use the fire element, someone to teach him to fight.” She paused, her eyes glowing. “I can teach the water element myself. You know I'm good enough!” Isolde grinned, excited at the chance to get close to her son.

“Yes, honey. Of course I would have no one but you school him in the art of water channeling. There are few teachers more qualified in the whole world. However, I disagree with the rest of your plan,” Deitrick rebutted. “Perhaps something so showy isn't the best. When the elders were here, we decided to cover up Ezekiel's skills. No one else knows he is even here. Even the palace staff still believe he is a normal baby sleeping in the nursery.”

“I suppose he would be safer like that, but what about the teachers?”

“Think of it like this: He is less than a year old. Normal dragons don't even start their education until they are about 10. For the time being, we can keep it simple. He can learn from you, and from books. We could probably call in one teacher to help with general learning, but no one else.

“It would be hard to explain one person learning from two teachers with different elemental affinities. Even if they didn't know he was our son, that would still make Ezekiel a target for enemies of our state.” Deitrick finished.

Isolde’s brows crinkled. “What you say does make sense. Even if he doesn't start formal education for a while, he will still have a huge head start. He can probably practice his fire magic by himself, since many of the principals I will be teaching him apply to the other elements.

“Now for the next question: how do we explain it all? Ezekiel is clearly going to stay in the palace, but how do we draw suspicion away from him and explain his presence?” Isolde’s question made Deitrick frown.

“He is far too young to be practicing channeling. There is no way anyone would believe a one-year-old would be able to use the elements. Even if he does look slightly older than he is, he still looks at most five years old [as a human baby he looks about 2 years old--this is how a 5 year old dragon would look if they could human form].”

He stopped, looking at his marvelous son, wishing Ezekiel would have another surprise. Hopefully a more convenient one this time. But the child was in his own world, staring off into the distance.

Ezekiel wasn't paying much attention to his parents. The magnitude of his present situation was finally hitting him. ‘This is insane. Absolutely insane. More insane than when I thought I was in a coma for several months. I'm actually in a different world. I live in a different world.’

A tumultuous mix of emotions flooded him. Regret at having died in his previous life, relief at having escaped it, fear of the dangers this world poses, and, most of all, an increasing sense of euphoria. There was, quite literally, a world of endless possibilities for him to explore.

From the draconic memories inside him, he had gained a rudimentary understanding of the world. And what he learned captivated him. He would be able to visit elf- and dwarf-like peoples, listen to talking trees, learn magic (magic!), meet kings and queens, and do so many unbelievably awesome things.

Perhaps best of all was his own species. He almost swooned. ‘A dragon. I'm a dragon. I'm a dragon prince. This is way cooler than any story, ever...’ The cruel voice of reason suddenly hit. ‘As long as they have proper toilets.’ Ezekiel could barely believe himself for thinking that. He sighed. ‘I knew my personality wouldn’t let me be happy without examining all the facts first. So much for that.’

He blinked once and shook off the stupor he had fallen into, starting to actively examine himself. He had gotten a good look at his soul the previous night when trying out channeling, but he hadn't gotten much farther than that.

He could tell his body was naturally much stronger than it had been as a human. It practically pulsed with power. The down side, because of course there was one, was its age. ‘I can't do anything with the body of a two-year-old. I wish I was a bit older.’

Something deep in his consciousness twinged, giving him a strange feeling. ‘Could it be possible…?’ He focused his energy again, savoring the now-familiar feeling of power. He willed his body to grow. A small strand of greenish-gold light swirled into being, twisting about his feet. It curled gracefully around his legs, winding up his torso.

Deitrick gaped, slack-jawed, at the incredible fulfillment of his offhanded wish. A string of light was twining itself around Ezekiel, growing like a vine from beneath his feet to the top of his head. The stranger phenomenon was what happened after the green light obscured Ezekiel. Deitrick stared intently into the shimmery mass, and as his child came back into view, an involuntary gasp escaped him and Isolde.

“Is that you, Ezekiel?” Deitrick asked, growing numb to the strange occurrences.

“Hmmm.” Ezekiel looked up and noticed his father. “Yeah.” His gaze drifted downwards again. “Pretty useful, eh?” Deitrick could only nod, dumbfounded.

All three people in the room examined Ezekiel. His baby-like physique was gone, replaced by the body of a young child. Now standing about four feet tall, with long golden hair and lean limbs, Ezekiel had been changed completely. His face had thinned considerably, retaining its childish tenderness, but losing the chunky baby fat. His looks were now those of a five- or six-year-old human child.

With his parents still recovering from the shock, Ezekiel took the initiative. “This seems to be the limit for this skill. I can only change my age five or so years, as a human ages. Of course, it’s possible I could do more, but I would have to constantly expend energy to keep that body functioning. This is the maximum change that requires no more than the initial energy,” Ezekiel said out loud, as much for his benefit as for his parents’.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“So you're saying you could stay like this. Without any side-effects.” Isolde adjusted quickly, giving Deitrick a meaningful look. “Now we have the perfect cover for you.” She quickly explained the reasons for keeping his identity a secret, finishing with her plan for doing so.

“We’ll tell everyone you are a child prodigy from the northern province, whose magic was forcibly awakened. You came from a family with enough status to permit you to come here, to the palace, to study under me. This explains almost everything. When the time comes we can pretend that we sent off our son Ezekiel to study elsewhere, in safety. This would be easily believed, because of what happened to the previous king.” Isolde clapped her hands, and Deitrick just looked relived.

“I do have to add one provision, for your safety, Ezekiel. You will not be allowed to leave the palace grounds until you can protect yourself. Even if no one knows your true identity, you are still dazzling enough to prove a threat to our enemies. It's best not to make an easy target of yourself.”

Ezekiel thought about protesting, but the logic of the argument was just too strong. He didn't want to play with his life. A few years wouldn't mean much.

Thinking for a moment, Ezekiel muttered to himself. “If they are really that concerned about my safety, aren't they forgetting something? I'm still too recognizable, right? Only royalty has golden hair and eyes. Even if I wasn't known as a prince, I would still be in danger.”

He stroked his chin, an old habit from his previous world. Hoping to find an solution, he examined the power he had just utilized. He smiled at his luck, for one was readily apparent. Focusing his remaining magical energy, and another green strand of light wrapped around his head.

When it faded away, in its place were two hazel eyes, brownish hair, and a light smattering of freckles. A look completely different from before. The Basic shape of his face stayed relatively the same, but he looked a bit more mischievous and less imposing now.

Deitrick rubbed his eyes and sighed. “I'm not surprised anymore. I guess I should just expect miracles around you.” He muttered under his breath, “But I'm not sure what this means for the future…” He shuddered, suddenly having a bad premonition.

Isold was overjoyed at the extra layer of protection Ezekiel's disguise would afford him. She cautiously asked, “This won't drain your energy to maintain, right? And it isn't permanent?” Ezekiel nodded.

Deitrick seemed to suddenly realize something. “Listen, Ezekiel. In order to not shatter this illusion you mustn't dragon form. As you know, the color of royalty is gold, and not just in human form. In dragon form we are golden as well. Usually a dragon’s coloring corresponds to their elemental affinity, but we are naturally metallic.

“Once we have enough control, it’s possible to chance our scales the the color of our element, but this usually happens sometime between the ages of 50 to 100. For now, it is best not to risk it, and for you to just stay in your human form. It wouldn't be possible for you to fly, anyways, until you are about 10, so bear with it for now.” Deitrick gently told Ezekiel.

‘Ugh!’ thought Ezekiel, ‘This is getting more and more grim. I had better get to the level where I am able to protect myself soon, because this really sucks.’

*          *          *

In the mornings Ezekiel learned from his mother about channeling the element of water. After lunch, Isolde would help Deitrick with affairs of state, and Ezekiel would be left to his own devices.

Of course, instead of playing around, Ezekiel would train more. Most afternoons he would go deep into the forest and secretly practice the other elements. Although he had no direct instruction, the same principles that Isolde taught him about using the water element applied to using the other elements.

Several times, he tried to use the dragon memories to help him train, but what Isolde had said was true; the basics were the same across the board. He estimated that in another year or two he would be able to start a more advanced regime, when utilizing them would be helpful.

One thing he found worrying was that many of the memories had faded. It was like certain key parts were beyond reach. While it was a concern, Ezekiel was able to postpone his fear until he learned more about the cause.

Because of his hard work and talent, he progressed very quickly. Much more quickly than even he had expected. Although he had no one with whom to compare his power, he could tell it was incredibly abnormal. He had decided to tone his power down when in front of others because he had learned that being too outstanding was a cry for misfortune. Along with this, the other aspects of his disguise held up nicely.

After changing his appearance, he was under no danger from enemies of the throne. Although they were few, since the dragon empire was unified, several assassins (usually from other races) had been sent over the years. The reason for everyone's worry was the still-fresh memory of the previous king’s assassination half a century earlier.

But, thankfully, no one could even start to suspect Ezekiel. It was common sense that a dragon’s human appearance is set, the only change coming from limited aging. And they only age until they look twenty (at the age of fifty).

All dragons above fifty look like a twenty year-old humans (when in human form, that is). This has caused them numerous problems when traveling in human kingdoms; they are easily discovered by their appearance and power. Since the same was true of the Dryads, anyone who looked twenty years of age, especially if they were abnormal, would fall under suspicion in most of the human kingdoms.

But Ezekiel was different. He could change his apparent age up to five years and alter his appearance. He was perfectly safe to train and live in peace.

*         *          *

Ahem. This is your narrator speaking. I decided to be lazy rescue you. There was going to be looong time skip here. But that would mean a lot of work for me. I would be the one having to explain everything that happened. And let's face it, I just don't have the time (no way am I giving up my afternoon naps). *cough cough* I mean, I kindly saved you from a merciless time skip. Leave it at that. Really. Just leave it.

Moving on now. I did say I rescued you from a time jump, but really I prevented you from enduring an entire one. I still have to fast forward a little, otherwise we'd all be bored. Especially since nothing really important happened. Nothing. It was terribly dull.

I mean, I already mentioned no one but Ezekiel’s parents knows who he actually is (everyone else thinks he’s a comparatively normal child named Zeke– not very creative, I know, but I didn't pick it!). That's pretty much the biggest piece of news. All the kid does is study and train, every single day. He hasn't even left the palace grounds; makes for a tedious story.

Speaking of which, his training has progressed pretty well, with few serious incidents. He is now at the level of a typical 40-45 year old dragon, but has little real fighting experience to back up his raw power.

And that's that. You're all caught up. Up to what, you ask. Well, I did say there would be a small time skip, right? It is now three years in the future. Or would it be we were three years in the past? Agghh, I don't know. Three years–important bit.

Bye-bye for now (it's time for that much-needed nap). I'll *yawn* talk to you next chapter...