As Man and Burn navigated the byrinthihs of the Great Forest, it felt less like an adventure and more like a family outing with Isaiah the dragon, who was currently sp his impressive humanoid form.
He was attractive, just a cut above the elves. Isaiah had an imposing figure at a striking seveall, an ensemble that could only be described as “vaguely menag.”
His long bck hair cascaded to the floor like ahusiastic curtain, ready to steal the spotlight at any moment. It was as if every inch of him was deg, “Behold, I am both majestid terrifying!”
His pair of horns sat atop his head like ill-fitting party hats—one broken, as if he had lost a duel with an angry tree, a storylihat would no doubt grow more dramatic with each retelling. Ahem, shout out to the world tree—
Those amber reptile eyes, however, were the pièce de résistahey radiated an aloofhat suggested he was far too worldly for the mundane s of mere mortals.
Man often suspected they held all the warmth of a winter solstice, and the flippant nonce that apanied his gaze could turn any serious moment into an actal edy.
Indeed, Isaiah resembled a dragon who had just raided the human fashion outlet but had decided sophistication was overrated. The very air around him seemed to sigh, “Here es Isaiah, our resident brooding giant.”
The trees loomed overhead, their branches entwining like old friends gossiping about the test forest sdal.
“Holy, just like old times,” Man muttered, “who knew searg for a space big enough for the world’s stro dragon to transform would be this plicated? At this rate, we might actally stumble into Inkia’s border patrol.”
Burn snorted, “Maybe they would wele the distra.”
Isaiah shuffled along, his solid frame somehow imposing even in human form. “I would have the world tree not chastise me again for injuring his younglings,” he insisted. “I have outgrow time thou beheld me.”
“A sprawling field, perhaps?” Man suggested. “Or maybe one of those dramatic cliffs where you pose majestically? Just be sure not to knoything over, oh mighty one.”
The woods seemed to sigh quietly, rustling with the wind, as if they too wondered about the true spectacle that awaited.
Little did they know, Isaiah would soon transform into a colossal creature, eclipsing the sun with scales that shimmered like a hundred gemstones—if only he could find a spot that didn’t spell disaster for the nearby trees.
“Pray, ing Merlin, dear Miss Momo, let us uhis matter anon,” Isaiah said. “With Master Vd as well.”
Man smiled softly, which didn’t escape Burn’s eyes, and said, “I would like that, but time is short.”
Isaiah sighed. “Thou art still as headstrong as in mine own boyhood.”
Burn turo Isaiah with raised eyebrows and widened eyes. “Man is older than you?”
“The sole souls older than fair Miss Momo shall be Merlin and Master Vd,” Isaiah answered calmly. “I am but six hundred years ihis is mine prime.”
‘Only’…
“The evidence lieth in the fact that mine on tongue remaih still somewhat reizable and prehensible to mortals today, in parison to the tongues of elder dragons,” Isaiah added.
“No, your on is almost inprehensible,” Burn shot back.
Isaiah frowned. “I really ought to master those mind-reading spells.”
Man chuckled, “Yeah, but even with those, you still have to learn the nguage in your head. It’s not just copy-paste and poof—you’re magically fluent.”
Burn turan, shaking his head in disbelief. “Seriously, how do you get to be such a nguage whiz? You pick up new sng faster than a kid grabs dy at a store. It’s borderline scary.”
He paused, thinking, “Sure, you still had the basics of the nguages you reacquaint yourself with, but somehow, you mao make it look effortless.”
Man shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just always been good with memory.”
“It ’t be just memory. You absorb and ie information like no one I’ve ever known. Not even me,” Burn said. “You predicted Yvain’s rampage only by reading my mind. And other small, seemingly muhings you noticed just from being with me.”
“It’s just memory,” Man insisted, “and a bunch of experience.”
Burn smiled faintly. “Fine.”
“You should tell that to yourself, anyway,” Man said. “You chose what to ge and what to keep to manipute the butterfly effect to your own advantage.”
“I’m just taking the fastest and easiest route. What’s impressive about that?” Burn groaned.
“I prehend it not, yet I safely presume that thou art engaging in flirtation before mine eyes, art thou not?” Isaiah asked. And after a lengthy silence, he inquired once more, “Honeymoon phase, perce?”
“Shut up, Isaiah. He’s cool,” Man sharply said, almost yelled.
“The phase doth not seem to clude anon,” sighed the dragon.
Soon, they found a forest clearing vast enough for Isaiah to transform.
Burn watched as Isaiah prepared for his grand transformation in the clearing that, frankly, could have used a little less stylistic choid a bit more shade.
But then again, this was Isaiah, the Dragon of the East. He deserved this kind on transformatio. As he began to transform, the ground quaked underfoot. Isaiah’s body started to expand like a particurly ambitious balloon at a kids' party.
First, his limbs elongated with an anatomical movement that was surprisingly graceful for something so unwieldy. Isaiah’s scales erupted—bd gold sparkling like crystals and jewelry under fluorest lights.
Finally, with a final twist, Isaiah stood t at a glorious one hundred feet, wings spread wider than his ow. One of his horns still y broken, while the intae reached an impressive 30 feet tall.
“Oh, yeah, look at you,” Man muttered. “So, what did you feast upon up there on the moon, Isaiah? Moon rocks and stardust?”
“Rabbits,” the dragon replied, his voice eg in their ears thanks to his magisuring their eardrums remained intao need for his real dragon vocal cords to ruin the moment.
He lowered his massive head, and the impact upon the grou shockwaves through the earth.
“e hither, asd and grasp my horns with grip most firm. Perce jure thee some seatbelts for thy safety, and a means to hold ohou be tossed asunder in the skies.”
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We all need an Isaiah in our lifes.
