When I looked up from my status, I found something else staring at me from above. A man, towering over a vast mountain taller than entire worlds, garbed in a strange misty cloak and star-lit metal. Its head was that of a goat, but its antlers speared into the clouds like swords. And when I looked upon its strange all-seeing gaze, I thought someone must have plucked the stars from the skies to use as a pair of eyes.

It did not look pleased with the sight of me. At all. 

"Oh, fuck me," I whispered, horrified, as my mind stopped completely. 

Then, it lifted its enormously clawed, gauntleted hand and waved. 

I grunted in surprise when I felt invisible hands yank me. The ground shook and the air ignited in the sudden flash of light. The ground swallowed me up. 

"No, no! Not again!"

As I fell, tumbling head over heels, and through the fractals of space and helixes, I felt a sense of vertigo and weightlessness. And when I gained control of my fall, below me was a world that seemingly stretched from one end of the universe to another. A world frothing with white oceans and lightning storms the size of continents raged across its surface. Nothing was left untouched, as the world was consumed in its fire and fury. 

And next to this beautiful, gorgeous planet, an angel reached out for the world with her lovely outstretched arms. A heavenly being with a million silver wings, and a million arms. Her iridescent dress made from nebulas and dying stars, and hair spun from the darkest edges of the cosmic sufferance; her skin was of twilight and eyes of dusk. 

She was timeless, endless. To touch upon her presence is to witness the birth of creation. Perhaps I understood, as I witnessed the fathomlessness of the angel's artistry and beauty. Yet, to understand her was to lose oneself from reality and truth. It was madness. 

Someone was moaning. He could hear their laughter, the weeping. They were very loud, screechingly loud. My ears hurt, but then I realized those voices belonged to me. 

I was noticed, as her eyes seared into my own. 

Before I could comprehend my sanity, of my mind, of anything, I was flung away. No sound escaped my screams across the vast, endless space.

When I woke up, I was falling through the clouds. This time, I really did hear my own screams. But, only for a moment. The air pressure whipped at my face like razor blades, and the lack of oxygen in my lungs escaped me. I was suffocating, and fast. I couldn't scream even if I wanted to, and only my desperation kept me from losing whatever breath I still had left.

I was falling fast, but I wasn't blind to the beauty of the world below me. Especially with the morning sun. The soft curvature of this world was barely discernable above the clouded covers, but it was there, even despite my eyes being a blurry mess of delirium. Less than forty thousand feet, maybe more, if that was how far I was up. The fact that I haven't still died yet of hypothermia, or the lack of air, was astonishing. 

When I exited the cloud covers, I was astonished. The lands stretched as far as the eye could be seen, with rolling green hills and endless acres of forests. And there below me, by the rocky jungles was a verdant ocean that would have put most tropical nations to shame. The world seemed untouched by modern technology, and while it was true that such sights can be seen in proper places when skydiving, the closest adventure I've ever been on was living vicariously through videos online.

Yet, it dawned on me so suddenly, and so daunting, that I was going to die. And the thought of dying, even as far from the ground as I was, had my heart beating like a gong in an echo chamber. I didn't want to die, and if I could prevent my own demise, I would have taken it. There was nothing I could do to survive a fall from this height.

Twenty thousand feet. 

I didn't think I was going to die alone, and so far away. How naive I was. 

Ten thousand feet. 

I thought about my other form, and what the dragon would do. I didn't think I could even transform, now that I was human. It didn't come to me as intuitively as my powers did when I was a dragon.  I could try to transform into a dragon, but my wings were a pair of stubby little things barely worth mentioning. Not to mention the impossibility of flying with such great mass... and such little wings... heh, if only I was bigger. If only I was better, stronger, more evolved.

Evolved. 

I quickly brought up my status screen. 

>  Congratulations!

> You have reached your evolutionary tree! Your true journey begins now. 

 A moment of agonizing seconds, before a second popup appeared. 

> Please Choose Your Evolutionary Draconic Race!

>

> Dragon of Flames and Smoke

> Dragon of Winters and Frost

> Dragon of Earth and Wood

> Dragon of Storms and Skies

> Dragon of Darkness and Shadows

Seven thousand feet. 

So many options, and so little explanations. But, I already knew exactly what I wanted. Considering my circumstances, it was obvious which option I was going to go with. I willed my mind, forcing it upon myself with all my might and strength. This might end up saving my life, or it had handed me a fool's hope. I just hoped I was doing the right thing. 

Five thousand feet. 

>  Congratulations!

The lands stretched as far as the eye could see, with the seas to the north and mountains to the south. Great dark forests covered the lands farther south, shrouded in mystery and forestry. 

Three thousand feet. 

> You have chosen the Dragon of Storms and Skies. Physically prodigious for their gargantuan size, their noble bearing befell the lands in their great shadow and overwhelimg power. The skies are their domain, and storms their dwelling. 

>

>

> Warning: To choose this race, your ability to use the skill Fire Breath shall be displaced with the ability of Lightning Breath skill. Your skill level shall be retained. Your Fire Breath skill shall be lost permenantly. 

One thousand feet.

I concentrated as much as possible, as I tried to will and shape my body to my other form. For a second, I was stunned. My inability to shift left me disorientated, helpless. Still, there was a reason why I could still choose a racial ability, even now. It wasn't as if I lost everything. It was there, I just had to... reach it. 

Five hundred feet below me, the woods of pine looked like sharpened spear points.    

The ground was getting closer, and desperation moved through me. I closed my eyes and screamed. I didn't want to die. I couldn't die, not like this. Never like this. 

> Congratulations!

> You have been gifted with the skill Metamorphoses! 

> Due to your ties with your mortal soul, you have learned a new ability to shift to dragon and human form. The ease with which to utilize your skill, depends upon your ease of practice. 

The warmth and comfort flowed through me like magma, coursing through the veins like an unstoppable tied. It hurt. I burnt and smelt like lightning and ozone. It was agony personified, as azure blue glow thrummed underneath my darkest scales. The color overwhelmed my vision, for just a moment. 

I felt my body change, lengthened, as my skin and bones were literally ripped apart and re-shaped. The booming of my roar disrupted the idyllic, almost peaceful scenery of the lands. The birds flapped to the skies in the hundreds, and the woodland creatures launched themselves across the lands with fear.

My back spread open like a stuck pig, and a pair of wings flapped but once. My barely half-transformed state was only enough to keep me afloat for a few seconds to delay my descent before gravity and momentum pulled me under. 

It was too late, by then. 

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I angled myself enough to minimize the damage to myself as much as I could, as pine trees toppled underneath my weight. I went through a dozen trees before I finally come to a rest in the middle of a small clearing, groaning in pain. 

> Invulnerability lvl. 5 Acquired!

I must have unconsciously shifted back to my human form, bleeding and bruised. Sleep came and went, and I was barely conscious of where I was. 

A woman. I kept seeing her in my dreams. She with her thick green hair, braided in leather thongs and sharp ivory fangs dangled from her hair like chimes. Her soft hands covered in bands and beaded cords of bracelets. She wore furred coats of brown and white.   

What interested me the most was of her footlong knife-like pair of ears. It defined her sharp, beautiful features. I liked it. 

Sometimes, when I opened my eyes from dreaming, I would find a bearded man in similar clothing. His hair was coarse red, thick and braided. And his cheeks were painted in tribal markings. His ears were just as long, perhaps longer. 

When I woke up, I knew I was safe for the time being. I was kept warm in furred blankets inside a tent, also covered in furs. The fire was kept merrily going in the middle of the tent. What surprised me was how primitive everything was. The few weapons here were made of stone, like the hand-ax and the spear. The spear was only a shaft of wood, tipped with flint or bone. The same for the bundles of arrows nestled by the bow. 

There were a few fishing seine nets to be found, made from spruce root fibers or wild grass. Or both. And on the other side of the tent, bowls of clay pots filled with nuts, berries, seeds, and other plant foodstuffs, separated in each bowl. They weren't cataloged, unfortunately. No form of writing that I could see. 

The tent flapped open, and the girl came inside with a wooden bowl of fish. She stopped in her tracks, her silver eyes gazed upon mine like a trapped deer. A gasp escaped her throat, and she barely held on to her bowl, before she escaped the tent.

My eyes widened. It was the girl in his dreams! 

A man came inside, with lines of red ochre painted by his cheeks and chin. It was that same man, with thick braided hair to match his tribal markings. There was a fierceness to his eyes, as he looked upon his guest. Still, there was cautiousness and wariness to him, as well. 

A moment later, I was surprised when the man placed a bowl of roasted cut fish and berries on the floor in front of me. At first, I was confused why he didn't hand it to me, but it was obvious he was afraid. Of what? Stupid question. They must have seen me transform. 

I nodded, and got to my feet. Thankfully, they must have clothed me while I slept. Though, how long ago that was, no clue. What concerned me was the primitive state of these people. They were still using stones for equipment. That was... bad. I think this was the bloody stone age. 

"Thank you," I said, as I gathered the bowl to my lap. The man seemed surprised, but it was obvious he had no idea what I said. But my tone and the context was enough to convey enough meaning. The man nodded back with a small smile of his own, and left the tent. 

The food was gone in an instant. I scarfed it down with the pleasure of a starved man. It wasn't enough, but I missed anything that was roasted meat and fruits. Heck, I normally hated fish. But in this instance, I savored it like a fine meal in a five-star restaurant. 

I was left alone, and with nothing to do, I decided to see just what kind of place these people lived in. If wheels hadn't even been invented... well, that was another big problem. Did they even use horses? The first few people I met that didn't want to kill me, and I can't even speak their language. And their greatest technological innovation was a fishing net. 

If I was going to spend some of my time with these... supposed elves, I might as well do something to improve their lifestyle. Though, I doubt I could do much. I was just a kid way in over my head, and I doubted they would listen to a strange man-thing half their size. They were all so bloody tall! The girl was easily six foot, and the man easily had two feet on her.

When I exited the tent, I was greeted with a small settlement. It was a small sea of tents, covered in thick fur, wood, and plants. Their dwellings were small, barely big enough to house a small family. Fire pits were going strong, to keep the chill from the last remnants of winter. 

What interested me were the people. They were all tall, beautiful and graceful. There were hundreds of them, most of them as pale as golden ivory. Some stopped to gawk at me, whether at my brown skin or the color of my violet eyes. Or my short stature, but I tend to not dwell on such shortcomings... I just had to go there, didn't I?   

Someone tugged at my coat, and I turned around. It was the girl, as beautiful as ever. She didn't look demure, rather she seemed intimidated by my presence. 

She spoke, something slow and guttural, but soft and shy. I didn't understand, and perhaps she might have understood my confusion. The girl kept gesturing somewhere, so I followed. There wasn't any other choice, and it wasn't as if I was going to stay here, lost like a little lamb. There were answers that I needed, and even if I had to learn the language, then so be it.

The girl took me to the largest tent in the corner of the camp, toward a cliff face. The site overlooked the ocean, and I could see dark thunderstorms miles away. It wasn't long before the clouds came this way. 

The tent itself was made from bones and fur, supported by wood to serve as the skeleton. It was dome-shaped, like all the rest. And it was beautiful, in a primitive way. Bone wind chimes dangled against the wind, and the smell of woodsmoke reached my nose. 

Two people were waiting for me by the entrance. It was that same man, this time covered in bone necklaces and even thicker markings painted in red and black. The other way a woman, smaller, but with similar facial features as the girl next to me. They must be related if they shared the same eyes and hair. Her family, then?

We talked, in front of a small fire and a bowl of fruits and nuts and cooked flesh. As much as our limited communication allowed us, I thought something was given. They knew I was not like them, and their daughter must have seen the beast I must have been before I turned back to human. What was my intention? What could they provide to help me along?

They were afraid of me, that much was obvious, but they were too afraid to turn me away. The fact that they hadn't killed me outright when they found me, must mean something. Maybe their gods would be displeased, or they thought I was a spirit. 

I told them I was a wanderer of sorts, someone who had no home or place to stay. I offered them my services as a hunter and gatherer. The woman lacked the fear her husband cast, but there was a fearlessness in her eyes that her daughter must have inherited. They conversed, politely, under their breaths. Their gruff language and facial expressions conveyed more than I could fathom. 

--

It was the turn of the first season, the beginning of a new summer, when I became a part of the Cry of The Black Wolf tribe. It didn't take long when I invented the fucking wheel. 

"What are you doing, Valerian?" 

Their language was difficult to learn. Perhaps it might have been the increased intelligence, or just the desperation of a lonely man, but I had gotten the hang of it better than I thought I would have. It also helped that I had already begun teaching basic arithmetic to these people. A difficult prospect, with my limited communication skills. Still, it helped.

A few had taken to numbers like fish to a water, but more than most thought it a waste of time. It wasn't as if such concepts could keep their bellies full. But such things will grow in time, as with every new generation. Which, admittedly, was a problem. These people have long lives. Ridiculously long. 

"Just thinking, Arawen," I said, and manhandled the little cub in my lap. It was a wolf cub, to be precise. It was a tiny thing, with snow-white fur and beautiful grey eyes. The little guy licked my fingers, before playfully biting it. Benny was already teething, constantly biting everything it could reach. The wolf would grow up to be something fierce. I knew this because the wolves in this day and age could grow up to be the size of horses. "Just... thinking is all,"

"Out here?" Arawen tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. She was still basically a pre-teen at her age. And I would die off long before any kind of maturity occurs. She was just a child. The depressing part was, she was only less than two hundred years old. "Has your mind finally gone to commune with the spirits?"

She was joking, of course. At least, I thought she was. Sometimes I couldn't really tell, with her ironic smile and twinkly eyes. "I should only hope so. I might have to sacrifice away your fishes to the spirits for some good fortune!" 

A gasp, followed by a fist to my shoulder. I dramatically feigned hurt, and we laughed.

We spoke of a lot of things as the sun dipped below the horizon. The dark waters of the sea were cast in an orange glow, as the hunters gathered back to the village. The fires will grow strong this night, to keep warm and turn away the predators. Less of that, now that they walled in their camp with proper palisades. After all, there were far more dangers than a pack of wolves. 

"Where are you from?" She suddenly asked, her voice seething with curiosity. They didn't ask, of course. The Cry of The Black Wolf was too content with my teachings than to antagonize my privacy. And, also, they were too afraid should I ever turn on them. They had seen me shift only once, to turn away a fairly large predator. When I turned around, their eyes spoke only of reverence and terror, and they bowed before me like I was some great spirit, as if I were some Beast God. "Will you tell me of your spirit home?" 

Heh, Arawen was never shy as people were led to believe. There was bravery in her heart of gold. I hesitated, then, gave ground. "Four hundred of your people live in this camp, yes?"

Arawen hesitantly nodded, as she ran over the numbers in her head. "You lie. We number in four hundred and ten!" 

I smirked, then wrote down the number of my nation on the ground. "My people live in a beautiful land with long winters. We don't worry about hunger or thirst. We are content, but never happy. We always seek the skies," 

She eyed the ground, eyes wide with disbelief. Still, there was her quiet, contemplative mind at work. "How?"

"Do you remember the clans we sometimes trade with?" She nodded. "My people are from all over the lands, brought together with a newer sense of purpose and direction. There were dark times, divided into hatred or anger. Ultimately, as children are born and replaced the old, we became a unified people, guided by laws and camaraderie." 

"Can we not do the same, Wise Valerian?" Ah, his nickname. Though, it was better than being called Little Valerian. That soured quickly when one of the fools thought he was easy prey. "We have been raising our first cattle as you've taught us! And the wheel and the cart was a wonderful boon to our people!" 

I grinned. "If I manage to convince the rest of the elders, we might see something like that in the future." 

"Sometimes I wonder if you fill my head with dreams," She said, almost sadly. "But, I wish to realize your dreams one day. I think we will be a stronger people for it."

All I could do was smile. I've read enough history books that wars were inevitable. Whether this would break her people, is a chance I was willing to take. "I hope I'll be there to see it," I lied. I would be lucky to reach my eightieth.

"You will," Arawen replied firmly. "I found you, alone and injured. It was the will of the spirits that brought you to me. To us. You shall stay with us till the stones turn to dust, and the earth withers under winter come eternity."

I inwardly shivered, but smiled gratefully. "I would never have it any other way."  

The reminder that they weren't human hit me hard. They were a people with few possessions, but the ones they had, they guarded jealously and with the fires of zealotry. The Araialien elves of the Cry of the Black Wolf were a force to be reckoned with against all those that dared to attack them. The Midnight Bear tribe learned that the hard way, when their corpses were used as fertilizers for their newly constructed farms.

I spent the rest of my night telling stories to children by the fire. The men and women free from chores joined in to listen, their eyes wide with fascination and wonder.