Tales

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The explosion launches the tiny flakes into the air, but instead of tumbling to the ground, they halt, levitating as if every single one of them is held up by invisible strings.
A small gasp escapes your lips.
The flakes tremble, then they rush towards the ceiling in one giant wave and with a loud whoosh, breaking against the rough edges of the black stone above and spilling over on the sides, but they don't fall to the ground. They patter against the walls and the clinking when they do tells you that the flakes are not flakes anymore, they're tiny metallic plates.

You step forward carefully, glancing up at the ceiling where the plates scurry around, the cloud seemingly growing. At first, you think the movement is random, but then a pattern starts to form.
Daimon lets go of your arm and takes a step forward, his figure melts to the ground and into black pelt and when the step is done, what meets the ground is not a foot but a paw.
By the time he shoves himself in front of you and forces you back, you've already realized the plates are starting to form the shape of a worm at the ceiling.

Clinking and rustling, they put themselves together, fitting neatly next to each other. The whole process takes no more than half a minute. When they're done and the last plates have found their place, the worm starts to move. A head appears, crowned by long spikes that guard his neck and fine golden marks along the edges of what you now realize are scales. Golden eyes open among the pitch black and then a pointy tail forms, crested with what looks like long, dark golden fur on the top and bottom, merging into a belly of the same color on the underside. The same fur sits in the snake's neck up until where its shoulders would be if it had legs, and with a quiet metallic clinking, the being's appearance is completed by small, golden spikes breaking through the skin along its spine one after one.

The being shakes its heavy head, accompanied by the dry rustle of its scales as the shake runs down its entire long body. It's so large it barely fits into the hall, which is why its body is curled up into a beautiful ribbon pattern that seems to be constantly moving even though the being hangs in the air motionlessly. It makes it impossible to follow the whole length of its body even with demon eyes.
Golden eyes land on your figure and finally, the snake decides to move.
It curves its head down towards you, body following along, and you can hear the quiet screeching when the golden spikes on its back scratch over the ceiling of the hall. They leave behind tiny marks of gold dust.

The snake curls into itself as it moves down just enough for you to see its head. Its eyes are liquid gold, the same gold you saw in Heishe's eyes, and you suck in a harsh breath. Daimon ducks, eyes narrowing, showing his fangs in a warning snarl.

"I must apologize", the being finally speaks up, its jaws opening the slightest bit to let out its voice, showing its impressive teeth and a long, pointy tongue. Yet the voice doesn't sound like an ordinary, physical voice; it's so overarching and intense that it engulfs your whole body and makes it vibrate. You're not sure if you're hearing it in your head or with your ears.
"I thought I had more time", the being continues.

"Heishe?", you whisper, still in disbelief, and the head indicates a motion that could be understood as a slight nod. The voice continues, accompanied by the constant rustle of scale rubbing on scale.
"Most impressive", he says. His voice doesn't sound the same as before – it may still be pleasant, almost gentle, but it's deeper and rougher and contains the wisdom of a thousand years.
"What are you?", you continue, unable to say anything else.

The snake's body shuffles forward as he curves his head towards you a bit more. Golden eyes are staring into yours intently, but he doesn't respond.
"A dragon", Daimon finally growls when Heishe refuses to gives you an answer, his eyes fixated on the being as if he's sure it'll rush forward and eat you any minute.
"He's a dragon."

While his reply is somewhat unsurprising, your head still struggles to wrap itself around the fact that dragons, the ones you've heard from in stories and tales, actually exist, and that there's one right in front of you.
Heishe's mouth opens a bit wider, exposing even more sharp teeth. He's unable to move his lips to form a smile, but his eyes seem to be sparkling with amusement and interest.
"Certainly", he says.
"What do you want from us?", Daimon takes the lead when he notices that you're too dumbfounded to speak. "Why reveal yourself?"

The dragon's heavy head sways in Daimon's direction to look at him now. "Should you not be able to answer this question yourself, youngling?", he patiently asks. "You have been taught about our kind, no?"
Even as a panther, Daimon's face seems to harden into a petrified mask. "How would you know", he growls quietly. His claws scratch over the cobblestone as he attempts to dig them into the ground, and you can see the muscles flexing under his fur as if he's about to lunge at the being.
Heishe's eyes narrow, but not out of anger or aggression. Rather, he seems curious, as if he's trying to solve a puzzle.
"I've heard of you", he says after a brief pause. His head curves lower until his snout hangs right in front of Daimon. The dragon's head is easily three to four times as big as Daimon's entire body. "I've heard of the outcast of the family Araxus. Should you not be that individual?"

Daimon's growl grows until it echoes from the cultrate walls of the hall. The dragon's body shifts in excitement, the curls of his long body starting to move much like a snake would, only that his body is so long and large that it's impossible to follow the movement or determine where it comes from and where it goes next. Heishe's eyes are glowing.
"So I am right", he notes with evident satisfaction.

Daimon ducks. You can feel his rage boil through your body, like a never-ending geyser of anger.
"Not one word more", the panther next to you rumbles, barely containing the uproar within himself.
Heishe hangs in the air lifelessly while he thinks the familiar's words over, deciding whether he should let his questions be or not. His body keeps curling and uncurling behind him, but apart from that, you wouldn't know that he's alive.
After a long pause, he finally averts his glance. "Very well", he says. "While I don't understand your anger, young one, we shall have this conversation another day." He shifts forward, now his snout almost touches the bars of the cell you're in. His golden eyes pierce right through you.

"Now, I said I would get you out of here, and that is still what I want to do. But I have a condition, Y/N, that you must agree to. I can only do this under one condition." The dragon blinks slowly. "And I say can, not want. This condition isn't a passing whim of mine."
You nod, even though his words confuse you, while you stare into his huge eye. "Sure", you say. "What is it you want?"

A rustle runs along the body of his dragon as he slightly shakes his scales. The golden color in his eyes intensifies. "It's simple", he says. Daimon sits up, but his head is still lowered and his teeth bared. The distrust he holds for the being flows through you, almost more intense than the rage he felt before.

"I can only help you if you make me your familiar, Y/N." 

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