Gather weary travelers, for I have a tale to tell.

Its my own sad little story I suppose, and in all honesty its almost too out there to be believable, even for me. I lived it, and I can scarcely believe it. Then again, I suppose that when one dies and awakens not in the afterlife, but within the long dead corpse of a dragon noble... Well things take a step into the far left field. You know, out past "Weird" and into the territory of "Holy fuck, this is some legendary weirdness!" You know, the “Hey… My cat just sprouted wings out his ass and flew backwards while whistling God Save the Queen.” sort of epic-weird.

My story begins as some things are want to do, at the ending of a final chapter and the closing of a book.

Imagine for me if you can the scene I now set. The press of people, hundreds, packing into a long metal tube that is hurtling at high speed through narrow tunnels. The people aboard are, as I said, numerous and packed in tightly to each section. In one corner, amid this sea of living beings, one poor woman comes to know the shame of having her body used for the pleasure of many. Others look on in mixed fear and revulsion as she is forced to endure the attentions of her tormentors, unwilling or unable to help. Imagine for me her quiet whimpers of fear as the knife is held to her throat and rough hands paw at her body, tugging clothing and groping flesh. Suddenly someone takes offence to this sight and forces his way over.

The attention of these animalistic men is drawn by the shouts of annoyance that ring out as this would be hero elbows his way through the crowds. With a nod from their leader one of them breaks away and the rest continue to enjoy their prey. Grumbling, the one sent to deal with the "hero" steps aside, waiting patiently with cold hard steel in his grip. As that man, who only wanted to stop what was an outrage, passes that bit of metal flashes brightly... And is soon stained scarlet. No one helps as that would be hero falls, clutching his torn throat and bleeding slowly to death. His last sight is those grinning animals as they torment that woman, wiping his blood off on her cheek and laughing at her tears.

This is how I died. On a subway, surrounded by people. For attempting to help another, one who I didn't even know, I was killed in much the same manner one slaughtered a pig in the days before "humane" practices. A long ragged gash across the throat to allow the animal to bleed to death. And bleed out I did... I'd like to think that the cowards who could watch a man die and a woman be raped right in public like that will never be able to escape the stain of what they allowed to happen.

Death for me, however, was not meant to be the end.

My memory fades here, becoming a confused jumble of things only half experienced. The only thing I can equate it to is stumbling about, barely awake. Think back to those nights when you come awake at night only just enough to know you're thirsty. Almost unbidden you get to your feet and stumble your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. On the way there you stub your toe, but the pain is far distant, only a ghost of what it will be in the morning. The sights have a dream-like, ethereal quality to them, and in the morning you might only remember a single detail... Like your cat crouched over a mouse it caught or something similar. Whatever you might hear is only background noise to you in that state. In one ear, out the other, with only a little filmy residue to mark its passing. You can't even remember if the water you drank was cold.

That is what I experienced... But it also isn't. I cannot even begin to describe how confusing, and how peaceful, the world beyond the veil of death was. I can however tell you that when my eyes opened again I knew I wasn't where I had been, or a hospital, or even in my own grave... Though that last one is not exactly true.

My eyes opened to the sight of a grinning skull right before me. It was a massive thing to say the least. I swear upon my honor that it was fully the size of a small house, and was in fact home to a family of rats the size of dogs. Such a sight should have filled me with fear, sent me scrambling away from that horrific thing and into a fetal position off in a corner as I shook like a leaf.

It did not.

Such a sight should have repulsed me, after all... It was a skull currently housing a group of the largest and ugliest rodents I'd ever seen.

It did not.

All I felt as I looked upon this skull was a sort of... affection. Some quiet little iota of an emotion. Without much thought I sidled closer to it and let forth a soft sigh of contentment. A sigh that sent an icy mist rolling forth and those rats scurrying off with cries of fear. I thought nothing of it at the time, far too focused instead on that skull and the contentment being close to it brought.

I lay there, curled next to it for a long while, simply existing and letting my mind drift hither, thither, and yon. I couldn’t even begin to tell you how long, to be honest, I just drifted about there. It was one of the most peaceful things I’ve ever experienced. Believe me this, dying in pain as you bleed to death, then finding that nothing hurt and in fact all was calm and quiet can really put a damper on excess thought beyond “...This is nice…” And indeed it was. Haven’t felt that sort of quiet peace since.

...So, I do hope you understand, that when a thought struck me like a bolt from on high my immediate reaction was to leap up and stagger away, more than a bit freaked out. The thought? Oh… Simple. “So nice here next to mother…” Now, that might not sound too off the wall but... First off, my mother has never nor will ever have a head that large. Secondly I highly doubt that I’d ever curl up and cuddle with my mother’s skull. What do you take me for? An ancient Greek with mommy issues?

In any case, that little thought snapped me out of whatever you want to call my stupor with an almost violent flash of sudden common sense. One does not simply cuddle with a cranium… At least not someone who’s got a lick of sanity in their heads… There are times I have to wonder if I qualify for that particular definition.

I took the time to get a good look at my surroundings. To begin with there was that skull. Long, and almost crocodilian in appearance, it was, again, fully the size of a small house. Its long… Snout? Maw? ...Whatever you’d call the bit that would have been its mouth… Was filled with teeth the size of swords, each one curved slightly and a little serrated along the back edge. Those were definitely NOT meant for eating your leafy vegetables. At the top of the skull there was a HUGE set of horns. The long graceful type that swept back for a ways then came up to sharp looking (if large) points. There was something, and even discounting that thought of mine, that just screamed that this skull had once belonged to something female. The slender jaw line, the overall shape… Only a pair of horns and no crest atop the skull plate. I honestly hadn’t a clue why that should matter.

The skull aside for now, the rest of this place was just filled with massive bones. Two distinct skeletons to be exact… One of them missing the skull. Other than that it was actually a fairly beautiful place. Dark stone carved by what must have been claw, smoothed by flame and years of traffic. Columns rose along either side of the long and mostly empty room. Long however, does not cover it. I’d estimate it at about three hundred yards in length and about another two hundred in width. The high ceiling stood so far above my head it was lost to darkness. Far too far outside of the sphere of light that seemed centered around me.

Now, I believe it should be obvious at this point… I had snuggled with a dragon’s skull… And called it mother. With a little shudder I looked down at myself.

A long neck, vertebra devoid of flesh, lead down to a massive breast bone and rib cage. A torc made of equal parts silver and gold lay heavy against my bones. I also couldn’t help but notice the bony snout that happened to be right where the lower half of my face should have been. I lifted a hand, turning my attention to that just to keep from focusing on the obvious… It didn’t help in the least.

A perfect anatomical model for the hands… Feet… Claws… Things of whatever it is I was now greeted me there. Four digits, counting what looked almost like a thumb, capped off in black claws that, despite being attached to bare bones, looked deadly enough for me to want to avoid giving anyone a firm handshake… Let alone a proctology exam. Seriously the sickle shaped things looked almost like pieces of obsidian razors, and something told me that they’d rend flesh as easily as a hot knife goes through butter.

Despite this I slowly lifted that talon to my face and felt about. ...I can’t really explain how it is I could feel anything, but I could. Much like the skull of mother my own was decidedly crocodilian. There were a few large differences however. My snout was a more blunt, my teeth more prominent. Along my jawline there was a secondary set of horns, curling along and providing what I would have to guess was a bit of a natural face guard. Atop my head was the other set, about medium length and curling back over my neck slightly before they took a sudden reverse into sharp points. Protection and a weapon all in one. Both of these seemed to be anchored in this thick plate of bone atop my skull… A… A crest? That seemed to fit. I was male after all, why would I not have one? In any case I slowly turned to take a look at the rest of me.

Dreading what I’d find over my shoulders I steeled myself and looked. What I found was a skeleton similar to those near me, right down to the wing bones. The only differences of course would be that I wasn’t in pieces or missing my head and the gold and silver plating of what must have once been some kind of ceremonial armor along my spine.. I probably would have snapped at this point and gone off the deep end completely had it not been for another one of those sudden thoughts.

“...I have a tail… AND WINGS!”

And indeed I did. At the base of my spine was a lengthy tail, curled slightly in a position that suggested it had been wrapped around my sleeping form. You know, same way a cat’s tail does when they sleep. A sufficient distraction to derail any descent into madness. At least, I think so anyways. Kinda hard to focus on anything but the sudden realization that sitting down without care would probably result in a sore as hell ass end adornment.

I mentioned a sphere of light around me, and well… Between the armored plates and my ribs cage I could see the source now. Where I’d imagine my heart should have been… Had once been… Was a pulsating orb of icy blue power. Mist roll off of it in a slow sheet that ran throughout and surrounded my bones. It held them in place, allowed me to move, and something told me it was me in a sense that even these bones could never claim.

All in all… Well, any fantasy nut could tell you what I was. Myself included. Dungeons and Dragons finally availed me! One word and it wasn’t one I thought I’d ever attach to myself beyond a pen and paper game with the word “Slayer” directly after. Dracolich. I was a dracolich… The kicker however was I had no clue HOW! Such things didn’t exist now did they?

I used to think that too…

My mind more than a bit exhausted by what it had been forced to deal with, I curled myself up away from the other bones. Once again I slipped away, drifting on the tides of my thoughts as they took me where they would… My dreams were… confusing to say the very least.

I saw a great kingdom of dragons, dragons who seemed to be carved from ice and snow, so icy white were their scales. The ruled a land as wintery as they were, but they did not do so through terror and tyranny, no. For all their wintery fierceness there was a certain warmth to them. Some inner glow that shown through each and every one of them. That isn’t to say that they were not indeed fierce.

I watched through the haze of my dreams as these dragons lived their lives. A pair of males butted heads, literally, as their claws clashed against each other scales. They’d tear at one another until one could continue no longer… And then the victor would help his fallen foe to his paws with a smile and kind words of praise, thanking them for being such a worthy foe. They seemed the best of friends, even though they’d only a moment ago attempted to batter one another into the earth.

I watched as the females went about their own activities. A small group of them sat in a circle, speaking softly to one another in a tongue that was almost musical in quality. Then as one they each lifted their heads and voices, the true music flowing forth and filling the area with a song of cold, haunting beauty.

I watched as, high above this all, three dragons sat. Unlike the others, each one was adorned with some bit or bauble. The male, easily large enough to be a little mountain all his own, wore an elaborate set of bands around his horns. Each one carved heavily with runes. Around his neck set a torc, much like my own, of solid gold. A single gem that looked for all the world like a dragon’s eye at its center. His name came to me unbidden. Ignis. He was fire.

The female was a thing of beauty and grace. Her every breath seemed to exude poise and regal bearing. Like her mate, for they could be nothing but, she was graced with little adornments of fine make, but not so gaudy as her husband’s. Silver was the color of her torc and horn rings, each holding a seeming delicacy that I knew was only an illusion. Those bits of metal were as strong as her scales. Her name was Freya. She was the shield maiden.

Between the two however… Between the two was a void, a dragon shaped hole in my dream. One that wore the same tac I did, but there was no true detail to him. I could not even begin to tell you what color his scales were, nor even his name. Only a single word. Maeror. Sorrow. Again and again and again it rang through my head.

With a start I awoke, my vision flickering into focus just in time to note a curious sight. Before me, its face twisted into an expression of open wonder and curiosity, was a little purple horned horse. Its mane was coated in little bits of rock dust, despite the pith helmet it wore. I watched it spread a pair of wings I’d not noticed before and gently flap them, scattering dust about.

I couldn’t resist… I sneezed… Then all hell broke loose with a cry of “OH SWEET CELESTIA!”

Author's Note

And here we go again... Good lords above and below someone save my sanity.