Dragon Father!
Lucia felt a creeping sense of dread that tonight, nightmares would invade her sleep.
"The evil dragon is so heartless that he would use Marly as a mere decoy, and care little even for the safety of her, a fake baby dragon."
The thought of using her faux baby dragon as bait gnawed at her. What if it were to be devoured by some monstrous creature from the deep? Legends spoke of colossal sea beasts, some towering even larger than the mightiest of dragons. Among these leviathans were those equipped with sprawling tentacles capable of hunting and consuming giant dragons.
There were also serpentine monsters in the legends, vast enough to coil around and crush entire islands with their formidable strength.
The deep sea harbored myriad bizarre and fearsome creatures. If the sinister evil dragon Lance were to encounter such a monstrous sea beast, even his formidable powers might falter against its might. For humans, the deep sea remained a forbidden realm.
Ships of men skirted near the shallows but dared not venture into the abyss, for the deep sea teemed with such terrors. Where, then, did the evil dragon make his lair? Was it perched on some cliff by the sea or hidden in the depths among the behemoths?
If near the shore, perhaps the dragon's strength would suffice to fend off the marine predators of the shallows. But if his island lay deeper, where the sea grew dark and wild, then surely, it might fall under siege by these gargantuan creatures at any moment.
"Should I inquire further?" Lucia pondered, though quickly dismissed the thought. "How would a young dragon grasp the nuances of offshore and deep seas?"
These terms were human constructs, divisions laid down to map the uncharted vastness of the sea, marking the extent of human exploration and courage.
Lucia settled into her sleeping position, awaiting the dragon's summons to their lesson.
In his study, the evil dragon was absorbed in perfecting his paintings. Marly, turtle, and young dragon were all immortalized in the artwork he crafted at dusk.
Despite her fear of the dark energy swirling within the dragon's artwork, Lucia couldn't deny the mesmerizing beauty and artistry of his creations. They held a charm that tugged at her heart, and she secretly wished to take one with her when the time came to leave.
When she ascends to the throne as empress, the worth of the painting titled "Evil Dragon" will undoubtedly soar. As she envisions her own peaceful demise in the distant future, she imagines this painting evolving into one of the esteemed "Masterpieces" of the Faroran Empire.
"If indeed this painting accompanies me back to the empire," she muses, "it shall find its final resting place alongside me in my tomb."
"Okay."
"Ah? Okay? What's okay?"
As she lounged among the soft flora, Lucia sprang up instinctively, her nervous chatter a reflex born of excitement.
"It's finished."
The evil dragon set down his pen, a tool surprisingly delicate for his massive claws, and turned to position the newly polished painting at the pinnacle of the study. This piece, a "Family Portrait," was destined to be his legacy to the young dragon, hence it warranted the most prominent display.
"Would you care to come over and see?"
"Yes, absolutely."
Approaching the study, Lucia observed the enhancements the evil dragon had wrought on the painting. The figures of the young dragon, the turtle, and Marly were infused with new life, vibrantly depicted against the realistic glow of a fading sunset.
Standing before the masterpiece, she felt as if she could step right into the scene.
Such artistic prowess! Lucia pondered how different the tales of dragons might have been if all were as gifted as Lance. Surely, any princess ensnared by such a dragon would find their company far less daunting.
"It has a dreamlike quality, doesn't it?"
"Do you like it?"
"I do. Very much so."
"That's wonderful to hear."
The young dragon's heart fluttered with hope. From the dragon's tone, it seemed he might intend the painting as a gift for her. Silently, she prayed he would bestow it upon her soon.
However, the reality that the evil dragon had hung the painting in his study suggested that he wasn't ready to part with it just yet.
"Can you recall the dragon essay I taught you this morning?"
"Yes, I've got it."
With only a handful of basic dragon essays under her belt, Lucia felt reasonably prepared to attempt writing them several times over. Her previous studies of the writings of dwarves, elves, and beastmen had laid a solid foundation, which now made the intricacies of dragon script seem somewhat less daunting.
"Try composing a short piece in dragon script," the evil dragon suggested. "Title it: 'My Evil Dragon Father.'"
"???"
My evil dragon father?
Lucia blinked in confusion, certain there had been a slip of the tongue. Surely, the intended title was meant to be 'My Dragon Husband?'
"Lance, did you perhaps misstate the essay's title?"
"No. Oh, I did add an extra word. It should be 'My Dragon Father.' Use the twenty-odd dragon essays you've mastered to write this. If the idea of a dragon father that resonate with you, feel free to adapt it to 'My Dragon Mother.'"
His tone hinted at an underlying eagerness, a desire not to rush her into endearing him with the title of 'father.' Relationships, he knew, had to evolve naturally, without overt intentions, or they risked being rejected, especially by a young dragon still finding her place in the world.
"Given time," he mused, "and as trust and dependency deepen, she might come to call me 'Dad.'"
"I don't have a dragon dad," Lucia replied, a mix of amusement and resolve in her voice. "But I understand. I'll do my best to craft it. And please, no scolding if it doesn't meet your expectations."
In truth, she was not a real baby dragon; she had neither a dragon father nor a dragon mother.
When tasked to write about a 'Dragon Father' or 'Dragon Mother,' she could easily pen thousands of words using the human language she was accustomed to. But dragon script, with its limited vocabulary that she had barely begun to learn, proved a challenge. With just over twenty characters at her disposal, composing even a brief essay of under a hundred words was an exercise in creative simplicity.
If the topic were "My Emperor Father," Lucia mused, her prose would likely dazzle even the stoic evil dragon with its eloquence.
"I won't punish you. This is merely a small exercise to gauge your proficiency in constructing sentences using dragon script," the dragon assured her.
"Oh."
With a newfound resolve, Lucia retrieved the dragon script workbook from its hiding place within her lucky gold coin and made her way to the desk to draft her composition.
Lance, aware of the weight his presence could impose, chose not to hover. Allowing her the space to articulate her thoughts freely seemed more conducive to genuine expression.
Meanwhile, he had other matters to attend to. The bounty mission commissioned by Solomon, the God of Death, was yet unresolved. At this moment, human bounty hunters were likely exchanging tales and toasts within their guild halls, perusing potential missions worth undertaking.
As Lucia watched, the dragon's formidable form diminished, his scales giving way to long gray hair and a beard that framed his now-human visage.
How had he managed such a transformation?
Her curiosity piqued as a weathered bronze token emerged from amidst his horns, floating before them and emitting a radiant light.
It was a projection device.
The evil dragon was preparing to project himself into the human realm, to connect with the bounty guild and delegate Solomon's dire tasks to capable humans or hunters.
Images flickered to life on the luminous display, and soon, a cheerful voice greeted them, "Hello, this is Meredith, the receptionist at Rabbit Race No. 345 of the Bronze Bounty Guild. A hearty salute to the venerable Grandpa Lance! Long time no see!"
"Grandpa, it's been ages! I'd like to sing a song for you. What do you say? My singing's improved quite a bit since we last met. Would you care to listen?"
"Grandpa, please lend me your ears."
She began with a light, playful tune, "The little white rabbit, so pure and light, sports two pointy ears. It nibbles on radishes and greens with delight. Oh, how endearing it appears!"
Lucia, caught between concentration on her assignment and amusement at the scene unfolding, couldn't help but stick out her tongue in a mix of concentration and mirth.