Chapter 5: RD-06

RD-06 

Chapter 7: Revolution 

"Your face, my Dragon. Your face." He had forgotten about the wound to his face. He sat down on the leafy floor of the forest to wait for the healers to catch up.  

(I did not kill the Titan whelps.) It wasn't a question.  

"Yes... You did, love. You killed them. Just not with your hands. But it's OK. You chose us over the Titans, didn't you? Can't have both."  

(I guess you're right.)  

"Why didn't you use your fire breath, love?" Princess Twilight asked gently.  

(Not sure. Not angry enough. Anthrax very fast and strong.)  

"He was, wasn't he? But you slew him! I admit I was worried for a second. Almost used my magic on Anthrax instead of War. But you broke his teeth and put your fist down his throat! The Titans were scary, but Dragons are much scarier." That made Sean grin.  

(I am messy but I want to kiss you.)  

"I don't mind!" Twilight answered quickly. He felt her unhook from his hair. He dropped Anthrax the Destroyer and sat on the corpse. He carefully picked up Twilight so he wouldn't stab his hands on her armor too badly. She closed her eyes and whiskered happiness as he kissed her furry face and tail. They were resting forehead to forehead when the little army caught up. He put her in his hair and turned around.  

Jafaar led in by yelling, "We spared one Titan whelp in the name of the Dragon of Mercy." For whatever reason, this actually did make Sean feel a lot better. Or maybe it was the squirrel kisses?  

(A significant offering of mercy. A sacrifice. I am pleased.)  

"I'm glad that our offering pleases you. It is difficult to find an opportunity to make an offering of mercy, compared to say... Blood or suffering. You look very impressive sitting atop Humanity's greatest foe with those dramatic wounds on your face, Great One. Did you want some moss, or were you hoping to impress my niece with some fetching scars?"  

Sean chuckled, then lay on his stomach to be treated. The battle force seemed disbelieving of what a casual relationship Jafaar had with their Dragon overlord. The Mossers had treated the squirrel wounded, but saved enough Moss to treat further injuries Sean might have taken. Sean felt the moss merge with his cheek, making it whole again, although he knew that now his face would start glowing.  

(How do I look?) He asked Twilight.  

"Fearsome!" She answered immediately. Sean offered to carry two of the most critically wounded squirrels back to town; for once, no one thought they might be attacked en route. There was no sign of Famine on the way home. 

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In the early afternoon of the next day, The Great White Dragon finished his jog to the capital, Anthrax the Destroyer's stiffened corpse slung over one shoulder, Princess Twilight riding in his hair, and Jafaar held against his chest in the hand that wasn't holding Anthrax's feet. Sean wasn't jogging too quickly; he didn't want to trip on something he couldn't see on the forest floor, hidden under the ever-present carpet of blue and green leaves. Twilight was thrilled at the speed, making noises of pleasure that were nearly orgasmic, while Jafaar clutched fiercely to Sean's hand and endured the ride in silence.  

"We're almost there. Let's stop and rest," Jafaar said, gritting his teeth (Not that he used his teeth to talk, of course.) Sean put Jafaar on the ground.  

Before he could help Twilight down, she begged, breathless, "My Dragon, my Dragon! Wait! Show me how fast you can gooooo!"  

(Sure, I'll go back a little.) The early morning exercise felt great after 2 months of sedentary life, although it made his wounded face and arm sting. Couldn't be helped; the plan was to reach the capital today and spring the news of Anthrax's death before it spread by gossip.  

"Uncle! Watch me, watch me!" Jafaar waved an arm at Twilight weakly in acknowledgement. Sean glanced back to make sure none of the terrified and awed squirrels he had passed on the way were nearby, asked Twilight to hold on (ouch, hair pull), and sprinted as fast as he could for a few seconds. He bent, touched the ground, then turned around and sprinted back. He stopped several feet from Jafaar, but it was such an overwhelming sight to see a titanic Dragon charging that Jafaar still fell from his feet. He sat on Anthrax's corpse (made a decent seat) and caught his breath. He was out of shape.  

"It was so fast; I couldn't even breathe!" Twilight said, also panting.  

"Faster than a Titan for sure," Jafaar confirmed, dusting himself off, "Let's walk to the capital instead of flying. If the guard sees that..."  

(Too aggressive) Sean agreed. Sean helped Jafaar by dusting off the back of his robe with a finger, then let him climb back on his hand. Sean wished he could talk, but most of the complicated hand-signs required both hands. He thought about how fast the language had developed and mused on how easy it was to develop a language when one person could already understand the other perfectly. He need only get Twilight to communicate the thing or concept he wanted, identify it, then create a sign.  

"Alright, my Dragon," Twilight said when the Capital came into sight in the distance, defensive spikes made entirely of metal, surrounding a city with a perimeter so wide that it disappeared into the forest out of sight. Mounted every so often along a cemented wall of dark bricks as tall as Sean's knees were miniature crossbows (squirrel sized ballistae) of metal-tipped wooden bolts. An army of two thousand squirrels stood in and in front of the spikey defensive field. Sean thought that this might be overkill, even against a pride of Titans, but couldn't help but notice that something had demolished one portion of the wall and the city beyond and it was still in the middle of repair.  

"Alright, my love," Twilight continued, "I'm going to start saying things to make you angry like you wanted. Sorry for being mean!" Sean signaled to (Continue) then got ready for his performance. 

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A runner had arrived extremely early in the morning, announcing the first official visit of the Dragon that day. There wasn't enough time to prepare anything more complicated than merely mobilizing the army and placing it in the way. Warla the Warlord guessed that that was probably the point. The King feared an invasion, and every conscriptable Human was waiting behind the wall in defensive positions, their numbers several times larger than the professional army. And thus, most of the capital was witness to this "Official Visit."  

A breathless scout reached Warla and reported, "The Dragon is already here!"  

"Why was there no warning?" Warla demanded.  

"The Dragon flew much, much faster than our scouts could follow, and has only now slowed down to approach the Capital."  

"Ah, very well. But how could his forces keep up?"  

"The Dragon seems to have come alone, or with a few companions that rode along. It's... It's huge!!" The scout had a panicky, manic look to his whiskers. Warla didn't want the insanity and terror he was Whiskering to spread to her army, so she sent him on a roundabout course into the city.  

Not that it made a difference; when the Dragon came into view from the forest, the terror and awe were universal. It strode forward in slow, long, intimidating strides, carrying a dead Titan slung over one shoulder and a Human that looked laughably small on a hand held to its chest. White smoke trailed in thick columns from its nostrils, obscuring Princess Twilight who was certainly riding above. As it got closer, the temperature of the air rose, exerting an invisible pressure on Warla and the rest of the army. It felt like she was before a god, and its very presence was pushing her down to kneel before it. Warla was familiar with the awe, but not the heat and not the terror.  

Lines of blue/green radiance radiated from the Dragon's limbs towards its heart. They obscured old scars that Warla herself helped treat, but not more recent wounds. The arm that held the dead Titan was still gory, and there were dramatic claw marks across one side of the Dragon's face; no doubt the last works of the dead Titan the Dragon now bore. Why the terror? The Dragon's wounds, smoke, heat and luminescence certainly made it more fearsome. But the real source of the terror was the fact that Warla, herself, stood against it. Echoing her thoughts were whispers from the army behind her, "What are we doing?" "It's the Dragon!" "We should throw down our weapons and bow!" "We should swear our allegiance!"  

Warla radiated confidence and dignity, attempting to control the situation, "We are here to greet the Dragon in the manner that our King has decreed! We are showing it our strength: stay firm!"  

Warla's words helped a little, but she knew it wasn't enough. She signaled the Occultists to go ahead and start boosting morale with miracles. Gerard, the Occultist Battlemaster, was experienced enough to know how fragile morale was already due to the heat and pressure the Dragon was asserting. He ordered the Light Bringers not to hold back; every soldier's weapon began glowing with light. It filled the soldier's whiskers with awe, reducing their terror and allowing them to grasp on to the emotions Warla was trying to spread. The Dragon slow-walked up to the army, laid the corpse of Anthrax the Destroyer at its feet...and sat on it. It looked less intimidating, suddenly, now that it had the posture of a neighbor coming to chat. It placed Jafaar on the ground, who immediately ran forward and shouted.  

"Behold Sean, The Great Earth Dragon of Lust! He comes to seek audience with the King!"  

I guess this is a shouting conversation, Warla thought. She stepped forward in front of the army fearlessly and replied, "King Noon is busy with matters of the state and has sent me out to meet with the Dragon."   

"So has the King empowered you to have an audience with the Dragon in his place?" Jafaar asked, always making sure the conversation was heard by all. Warla turned and looked around. There were no high-ranking Royals present. The King and the other leaders of state were cowering in bunkers under the Palace. She and Gerard, the Occultist Battlemaster, were the highest-ranking people present, not counting Princess Twilight and Jafaar. She made eye contact with Gerard, who shrugged and made a gesture with his tail meaning "Be my guest".  

"Well..." Warla replied, "The King sent me to meet the Dragon. I am the highest-ranking person present. I think that is a fair assumption." She glanced at her seconds in command and they nodded at her encouragingly. An "audience" sounded great. No one was about to speak up and mention that they were there to try and prevent the reportedly fire-breathing Dragon from destroying the capital.  

"Excellent! Step forward and let the audience begin!" Jafaar smiled triumphantly; things were going according to plan. But someone didn't like this plan. Or perhaps someone just got nervous and slipped. A ballista shot twanged, and a bolt went straight for Sean's eye. He only had time to block with a forearm, reflexively. There was a metallic crash and a shower of sparks as the ballista bolt's metal tip collided with and deflected off one of the new scales peeking out from the gory wounds of Sean's arm. The bolt landed in front of the army, sticking up in the ground, luckily hitting no one. Thousands of squirrels held their breath to see how Sean would react. The temperature around the city increased, but the Dragon only made some sort of signs with his hands.  

"Sean asks if you would please point those things elsewhere before someone loses an eye," Twilight called from atop the Dragon.  

"What?" Warla asked, tense, hand on sword.  

"Princess Twilight will be translating for your audience with the Dragon," Jafaar explained. Warla was dumbfounded. This wasn't Jafaar using the Dragon to seize power like the King predicted. The Dragon itself wanted to talk to her.  

Lieutenant Wedge ran up to report, "Warlord Warla, that wasn't us. Those manning that ballista have been slain by human weapons." To the side, Gerard was approaching, desperately trying to get her attention. 

But it wasn't necessary. Warla had guessed exactly what was going on. The Dragon came in peace, to talk. It sat down, patient, vulnerable, on top of the most impressive gift ever offered to Humanity. The Dragon was just trying to do its job, share its power and wisdom with the people that worshipped it. But those in charge didn't want to do the right thing and accept the rightful changes that their Dragon would bring. They wanted to use the Dragon to slay the Titans, then slay the Dragon so they wouldn't have to endure a change that would reduce their wealth or power. What about the lives of the army that would be lost for no reason? What about the greater threat of the Cromags and their own Dragon? What about the whelps being enslaved in the capital...  

"Assume a criminal element has committed murder and is attempting to wound our Dragon," Warla instructed Wedge. Although, it certainly didn't appear that the Dragon was in any real danger from the puny weapons of Humanity. "Take the 4th and 8th brigades and have them take possession of and dismantle the ballistae on the southern wall."  

"Dismantle? What if the Titans attack?" Wedge asked nervously. Warla pointed at the dead body of Anthrax the Destroyer, the mightiest Titan Humanity had ever faced, and gave Wedge a look as if she were looking at an idiot. "Oh. Right. I'm sure the Dragon can handle it." Wedge said lamely then ran off to follow orders.  

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Warla took off her helmet, strode forward to the Dragon, and prostrated herself. She thought she understood what the game was about, now, and was ready to play along. She was loyal to the King and the Dragon, but if she had to pick between the leadership that was cutting the whiskers of the daughters of her friends, or the one slaying Titans, the choice was clear.  

"Great Dragon!" She cried, loudly enough that all would hear, "Please forgive your clumsy people! We are pointing the ballistae away from everyone's eyes immediately!" The Dragon made a coughing roar that Jafaar assured her was laughter (regardless of the smoke that was billowing from its mouth). It made some hand signs.  

"In his great Wisdom and Mercy, the Dragon forgives you!" Twilight reported. "And... The Dragon says he likes you! And... The Dragon has a request!"  

"What does my Dragon require?" Warla asked, transitioning to a kneeling salute with her sword impaled on the ground.  

"Your Dragon says he would like to offer you a trade; the body of Anthrax the Destroyer in exchange for a Dragon-sized glass of water. The Dragon is thirsty!" 

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30 barrels of water later, Warla suggested they switch to tea. Sean and Warla sat cross-legged in front of each other, "having an audience". At the moment, this meant chatting about tea while Warla kept the army busy with various tasks to prevent another incident as well as fulfill the requests of the Dragon. She was currently listening to a report from Lieutenant Biggs, who was sweating nervously from being so close to the Dragon.  

"We immediately forced the door of every Noble and otherwise uncooperative residence," Biggs reported. "It's unlikely that anyone had warning enough to hide their pleasure-whelps. But we are afraid to force the Royal Bunker.. We might not even be able to."  

"Do we know every entrance to the bunker?" Warla asked.  

"Yes, Warlord. We were already guarding them."  

"Don't stop guarding them until the King leaves and we can make sure it's emptied out. Snatch any pleasure-whelps that emerge, on the authority of Warla the Warlord."  

Biggs looked nervous, "Is that going to be... Ok?" He asked, worried about the popular Warlord hero.  

She shrugged and said, "The Dragon ordered me to do it. Everyone heard the Dragon order me to do it. How do you like that tea, Great One?" The Dragon was taking his time, trying to actually appreciate the differences of the 9 different teas that had been mixed in barrels and heated up to the proper temperature.  

"The Dragon says that it is his favorite one so far," Twilight translated. "Ah, expensive tastes. Do me a favor and try the Honeyflower again right afterwards. Very similar and only a tenth the price. The taste isn't as sweet and overpowering as the more expensive Honeyfruit. The first cup of Honeyfruit might be more enjoyable, but the subtleness of Honeyflower means that I could drink... Barrels of it." Sean chuckled/roared, his angry smoke long since gone out. When he daintily held the barrel of tea between two fingers and sipped it, Warla thought he looked far less frightening and ferocious.  

(You're right) Sean answered, and Twilight translated. (But I may never get enough to have more than a single Dragon-sized cup).  

Twilight added, in her own words, "I'm sure we can get you a whole lot if you want, Sean."  

"Absolutely," Warla agreed, "I feel like we got the better of the deal in trading 30 barrels of water for the corpse of Anthrax. I would feel better if you let us give you a few wagons of tea as well. Which flavor would you like, Great One?"  

(Honeyflower) he answered, (I do not wish to be wasteful.)  

"Your wisdom is appreciated, my Dragon. Perhaps the trade of tea to Sean's Respite can offset some of the losses from the end of the pleasure-whelp industry?" Warla added cheekily.  

(Perhaps) Sean agreed smiling, (I'll ask the rescued whelps what flavors they like). Warla sipped her tea and tried to puzzle that one out. The pleasure-whelps couldn't talk; they had no whiskers. Then again, neither did The Great Dragon, but here she was chatting and drinking tea with it.  

"Jafaar and Twilight, are you thirsty? Have some tea too-oh, thank you Sean! What a considerate Dragon," Twilight said, realizing belatedly that his message was directed at her. Warla had to agree. He did seem like a nice Dragon. The army had finished combing the city for each and every last pleasure whelp, and was preparing supplies for the day's long journey that it would take to escort them all to Sean's Respite. The injured ones that couldn't walk were being loaded up on wagons. It wouldn't be a comfortable trip, but the destination would make up for it.  

"If I may ask, Great One, what about the families that might want to take care of their own cut and stunted daughters?" Warla asked.  

(They can visit whenever they like,) Sean answered. (When the rescued whelps have finished learning New Draconic and translators have been found to reside in each city, they will be free to leave Sean's Respite and live where they please. They are also welcome to stay.)  

"Wait, what?" Twilight added after translating that. Jafaar's eye went wide as he grasped the meaning of the wise Dragon's words and he looked at his hands. "I asked Dawn to teach them. Wait, why Dawn and not me??" Princess Twilight translated and then asked back in distress. She looked at her hands and said, "Oh," realizing the truth; her unique claws couldn't make the signs. She would need the fingers, knuckles, and opposable thumbs that everyone else had in order to do it. Sean snapped to get her attention then said something that both made her cry happy tears and made Jafaar look away, awkward. Sean gave her gentle pets, avoiding her pokey armor.  

"Are Princess Twilight and the Dragon..." Warla asked, whispering to Jafaar.  

"That's the plan," he whispered back, "Don't want him getting bored of us and going over to the Cromags." Warla paled at the thought.  

"What else can we do to prevent that?" she asked. "Why, give him all the pleasure-whelps in the kingdom, of course. He is, after all, a Dragon of Lust."  

"Works for me," agreed Warla. "I know the Dragon only said that those who cut, stunt, or otherwise abuse whelps shall be punished by being fed to the Dragon. But it might be a good idea to replace the punishment for all serious crimes to just that," Jafaar suggested.  

"Has it already come to that?" Warla asked.  

"Not yet, but winter is coming and the Tomes of the Earth say nothing about how a Dragon will react to an all-vegetable diet."  

"I see..." Warla answered, thoughtfully.  

"I estimate that we have until the Cromags come for tribute in the spring, then we have to go full swords-to-plowshares and farm outside of the protection of cities. If all those who would become soldiers and pleasure-whelps become farmers and hunters instead..."  

"Perhaps we'll buy enough time to convert our society to food production," Warla finished, "But what about the other Titans? How can we farm outside of cities?"  

"There aren't any other Titans," Jafaar explained, "War and Pestilence were slain in the same battle as Anthrax. Famine fled, but is so wounded and weak that a human army could slay her. If another Pride of Titans come, we slay them. That's WHY we're feeding the Dragon. Wouldn't you rather live in a society that produces food instead of swords?"  

"Of course!" Warla agreed, "But don't we need to support the Dragon?"  

"Not forever," Jafaar disagreed. "It's getting stronger. We defeated four Titans with only 200 soldiers and 50 Occultists. The only thing that foot soldiers need to do from now on is be a screen for the Occultists and the Dragon and try not to die."  

"300 heavily armored pikemen with great shields..." Warla said, thinking about it.  

"Exactly," Jafaar agreed, "Full defense. Just protect the Dragon and nothing else. Let it do the killing. It has more offensive power than the entirety of Humanity put together."  

"That's why we feed it..." Warla said, nodding. "Less human lives lost for a victory. It's worth it, as long as we CAN pay the price. Why don't we just feed it the Cromags?"  

"That's one solution," Jafaar agreed, nodding, "In the meantime, do you think you could make the capital start working full speed towards food production?"  

"I'm not King," disagreed Warla.  

"The Tome of the Earth speaks of Equality and a population that votes on important decisions like this. Perhaps you and I could set that up before the Royals even leave their bunker?" Jafaar said, Whiskering an evil grin. They shook tails on it. 

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"Waaaaa! Weeeee! Faster, Faster! Woooooo-haha ha slower! Faster! Slower! Faster! Whoa! Wow! Mmmmmmmmm!! Oh! That felt so good, what was that?! Oh, I love you, Sean!" 

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After Sean ran back to his city ahead of the pleasure-whelp-refugee-caravan, Gaston and Frodo reported that Famine had been located nearby. Certain that he could take one wounded Titan by himself (Well, with his Rider, Twilight) he took off in the woods to try to catch and finish her off. Sean found her... But she was already dead.  

"Maybe we should bring her back home, she's still fresh," Twilight suggested.  

(Do we have a problem with food supply?) Sean asked.  

"Well, I mean, winter is coming, you know? Maybe the new rescuees could use the fresh meat."  

(Great idea. Such a smart princess. Give me that tail so I can kiss it.)

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