Emperor of the Dragon Clan!
There are talks about gullible evil dragons, but make no mistake, Lance, the notorious dragon, defies such notions.
"If Lance were truly gullible, then the mighty Bruder Donahue, that grizzled old warlord, would have long since tamed him and claimed the title of Dragon Knight, perhaps even siring a brood of dragonspawn," mused an elderly storyteller by the fire.
Lance's reputation for cunning was legendary. He was said to outwit even the God of Death, lurking in the shadows of the underworld. Yet, ironically, he claimed simplicity and a fear of deceit, particularly by the human princess, to safeguard his own interests.
"A gullible dragon wouldn't have the foresight to construct his own lair, much less design a garden with swings, plant ancient trees, or cultivate a peach grove," the storyteller continued, his voice rising with each detail.
"These, the grove, the swings, the ancient trees, and the vast pool atop the mountain, were all crafted with one purpose: to enchant the princess," he concluded with a knowing nod.
Meanwhile, in Lance's lair, the air was thick with tension.
"Hey, little dragon, mind your gaze," Lance grumbled, catching the princess's look of utter disdain. "Your glaring contempt is making me decidedly uncomfortable."
"Oh? You noticed that?" the princess replied, feigning innocence, her eyes wide.
Lance, momentarily taken aback, simply shook his massive head. "Did you finish that essay? Let me see it."
"I haven't started yet," she confessed, her voice a mix of defiance and mischief.
"There's a price for procrastination," Lance warned her, tapping her head gently yet firmly with his claw in a mock scolding.
Back in the human realm, such an act to a princess would lead to severe consequences, imprisonment, or worse, the gallows. But here, in the domain of the evil dragon, who would dare challenge Lance to such an extent? Certainly not her, the powerless princess.
"If one day I surpass this dragon in strength," she mused with a sly grin, "I'll repay him in kind with my own own dragon fists."
For now, she dismissed such fantasies and resigned herself to her immediate task, writing her essay in the draconic script.
The essay read: "My dragon father reigns supreme among dragons. He never raises his voice nor hand against me. He loves me dearly, often slipping me coins on the sly, away from my mother's watchful eyes. My father assures me that one day, I too will ascend to greatness, wise and just like him."
Struggling with the complexities of draconic script, Lucia cleverly substituted the dragon terms she couldn't master with human language. Once satisfied, she presented her carefully crafted essay to the evil dragon, Lance.
"I've written it," she declared, her voice tinged with a mixture of pride and nervous anticipation.
Lance took the parchment, his eyes scanning the delicate human script infused with attempts at dragon language. "Ah, young one, your composition is quite remarkable," he began, his voice a rumble of thoughtful approval. "You've captured the essence and woven in your aspirations splendidly. However, your understanding of our hierarchies needs refinement."
He pointed to a specific line. "For instance, where you write, 'My dragon father is the emperor of the dragons,' it would be more accurate to say, 'My dragon father is the king of the amethyst dragon clan.' In our lore, the term emperor doesn't apply; we speak only of Dragon Kings. And beyond that, there are the Holy Dragons and the Supreme Dragon God, who is on par with the God of Light."
Lance paused, ensuring she absorbed the distinction. "Do not underestimate the station of the Supreme Dragon God. Although the power might differ, the godhead of our Supreme Dragon God is equal to that of the God King of Light."
His expression turned serious. "It's crucial, especially in the human world, not to think of the Dragon God as lesser than the King of Light. Such an assumption is a blasphemy to our kind."
Lance sighed, a sound like distant thunder. "Many in the human world, and indeed among our own, might unwittingly diminish the Dragon God's stature in comparison to the King of Light. It's a misconception I cannot allow you to carry."
His gaze drifted toward the window, looking out at the twilight skies. "Despite our power, there isn't a single temple dedicated to the Dragon God in the human lands, unlike the numerous shrines that dot their landscapes. The pure-blood dragons of Dragon Island, lethargic as they are, fail to promote our deity's veneration. It's a lamentable oversight, one that, were I not bound by my nature as a black dragon, I would rectify by establishing a grand temple."
Lance handed back the essay, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Revise this with the corrections, and remember, every word you write casts the shadow of our legacy. Let's ensure it's a shadow that looms large and accurate."
Lance, the formidable evil dragon, harbored a mix of disappointment and contemplation as he looked out over the horizon toward Dragon Island. "The Dragon God and those on the island have not met the mark," he muttered under his breath. "And the dragons there, while strong, lack vision."
He turned his thoughts to the young dragon he had taken under his wing, Lucia, whose spirited heart burned with the grand ambition of ruling, not just surviving. "Perhaps the restoration of our clan's glory might well rest on this youngling I've chosen to raise."
Lucia, full of dreams and daring, yearned to carve her own realm of influence, even to the point of declaring herself emperor of Long Island, a notion unheard of before, yet intriguingly possible.
"Young dragon, what is your dream?" Lance asked one evening, his voice echoing through the cavernous lair.
"Becoming a fearsome evil dragon, like you. Is that too far-fetched?" Lucia responded, her eyes gleaming with a mix of defiance and admiration.
Lance's gaze intensified, causing an unsettling chill to run through her. "No, no, that dream is within your reach," he reassured her quickly, then probed further, "But isn't there another aspiration you harbor? What is that dream?"
"To become the emperor of the human world," Lucia confessed, her voice faltering slightly under his penetrating stare.
Lance's tone softened, almost too gently. "Being an emperor entails a relentless tide of governance, with scarcely a moment for rest. Doesn't that intimidate you?"
Lucia squared her shoulders, her resolve firming. "No, you're the one who's afraid," she retorted, a flicker of boldness in her voice. "I'm not scared at all!"
Lance raised an eyebrow. "Truly not?"
"Absolutely not!" Lucia affirmed but said to herself. "I was born into the line of succession for the Roland Empire. Being an emperor is simply fulfilling my destiny. What should I fear?"
Originally, Lucia's path to the throne as the primary heir seemed clear until her older sister, destined to be the first heir, experienced a mystic awakening at six and was whisked away by a temple. With her sister gone, the mantle should have been passed to Lucia, but instead, it fell to her other sister, Athena, creating a rift and a new challenge in her path.
Lance listened, his thoughts as deep and layered as the caverns around them. "Then it seems your journey not only involves ascending as an emperor among humans but also restoring the dignity of our kind, both tasks formidable yet worthy of your mettle."
Lucia, who had ascended to second in line for the throne due to unexpected family twists, listened intently as Lance broached a daring idea.
"Perhaps we should amend your aspirations slightly," Lance mused, his voice echoing in the vast chamber.
"Change them to what?" Lucia asked, a trace of suspicion in her tone.
"Imagine becoming not just the emperor of the human world, but the emperor of all giant dragons across the globe. Wouldn't that be a far grander pursuit?" Lance's eyes twinkled with a mix of challenge and mischief.
Lucia rolled her eyes so hard she staggered, a wave of disbelief washing over her. "You must be jesting! Command all dragons? That's a death wish masked as ambition!"
The weight of his words had stunned her. Was she, Lucia, truly meant to reign over all dragons? It seemed Lance harbored delusions of grandeur on her behalf. "You want me dead, don't you?" she accused, thinking. "If I can't even best Athena, how am I to command the allegiance of the fiercest beings in the world? Would I not simply be 'The defeated Royal Sister,' outshone by Athena's irritatingly perfect 'Royal Sister' persona?"
Her mind raced with the ridiculousness of it all. "Had I known you saw such potential in me, I might have preferred the quiet, overshadowed life!" she thought bitterly. In her mind, becoming the emperor of all dragons seemed an impossible feat, one even more daunting than any human crown.
"Why are you still lying there? Just the thought of it makes you faint? You're not that fragile," Lance chided, his voice filled with amusement yet laced with sincerity.
"It seems the title of emperor of the dragon clan might be a bit too much," he continued, watching her reaction closely. "Is the idea so frightening that you'd pretend to faint?"
"I'm not pretending! Swear you won't force me into becoming the dragon emperor, and maybe I'll consider opening my eyes," Lucia retorted, her tone a blend of exasperation and playfulness.
"Really?" Lance raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her bargaining.
With a reluctant smile, Lucia opened her eyes and slowly got to her feet, only to plop back down, struck by another thought. "And you have to promise not to use me as bait!"
Lance let out a deep, rumbling laugh, appreciating her cunning. "A promise, then. No emperorships or bait. Just the pursuit of what lies within your brave heart."