Fire Can't Help But Burn

Golgalax despised humanity. He saw them for what they truly were: the embodiment of evil—the very hand of death. They had slaughtered his father and murdered his mother; they massacred Dragonkind.

Now, Golgalax would have his revenge.

He tucked his wings flat against his hide and dove from the cloud cover, plummeting toward the stone fortress below.

His talons collided with the side of the tallest tower, his body weight nearly toppling the structure altogether. Stretching his neck, Golgalax aligned his snout with the upper window. He took a deep breath and opened his jaws.

FRRRRRRRGRGRGR!

Flames engulfed the bedchambers and spilt out the windows on the opposite side. Immediately, the tower contents were set ablaze, including the king and several of his servants.

Golgalax kicked off the tower exterior, propelling himself backwards and collapsing the wall beneath his feet. As he fell, he extended one wing to right himself, then soared over the castle wall, dousing the parapet in flesh-melting flames.

Some of the archers lobbed arrows at him, but they deflected harmlessly off his scaly hide. The rest ran for their lives, only to be inundated in a wave of Dragonfire.

Next, Golgalax targeted the ballista. It was a massive crossbow anchored into the castle wall, capable of launching bolts the size of tree trunks. When properly manned, it was one of the few things capable of killing a dragon.

Fortunately for Golgalax, this one wasn’t properly manned. Two men were attempting to do a six man job, completely failing to load the massive iron bolt. In a single wave of Dragonfire, Golgalax incinerated the men and permenantly warped the iron ballista.

DING! DING! DING!

An alarm bell rang out from the far end of the keep. Golgalax beat his wings to gain altitude, then descended on the bell tower. On first pass, he covered the stone in Dragonfire. On second pass, he kicked with his hind legs, tipping the tower onto the stables below. Horses whinnied as they were crushed by a cascade of stones.

Golgalax circled the castle once more, watching the humans pour from the keep like ants from an anthill. It wasn’t just soldiers, but women and children too. Amid the horde, one woman fell, nearly getting trampled as she clutched a crying bundle of cloth to her chest.

Golgalax watched for a moment before taking a deep breath. He wouldn’t feel remorse as they burned. They were vermin after all—vermin carrying a deadly plague.

FRRRRRRRGRRRGRRRGRRR!

The bodies incinerated almost instantly, dropping to the floor and crumbling into ashes… all but one body, that is.

As the flames dissipated, a lone figure stood in the plaza. He wore a long, hooded cloak that sparkled like a thousand jewels.

Dragonhide!

Dragonhide was a sorcerer's unique form of armor. The cloak was sewn from dragon scales, creating a biological chain mail that was immune to magic—even Dragonfire.

Golgalax panted as he studied the cloak. The scales glistened a brilliant, sapphire blue, just like his mother once had.

Rage filled Golgalax, clouding his judgment. He roared again, a torrent of sweltering flames erupting from his throat. At the last second, the sorcerer tucked his head and disappeared beneath the flames.

FRRRRRGRRRGRRRGRRR!

The fire hissed against the plaza, swirling and churning around the sorcerer. Still, Golgalax didn’t relent. He roared until his lungs were empty and he was forced to take a breath.

The sorcerer stood as the flames receded. All around him, the stone floor was molten-orange, causing the air to quiver as it gave off heat. Yet the stone beneath the sorcerer’s cloak was still cool to the touch, as was his flesh.

In a panic, the sorcerer raised his hand, shouting a brief spell.

“Fulgara Voco!”

A brilliant beam of lightning arced through the air. It struck Golgalax in the chest, crackling harmlessly across his scales and branching into a nearby cloud.

The sound of thunder echoed over the city as Golgalax descended on the sorcerer. Backpedaling across the molten stone, the sorcerer began to chant a defensive spell.

“Defendat vis vo—”

Golgalax swooped, grabbing the sorcerer with his hind legs. The man screamed as ten-inch talons sunk deep into his chest. Finally, pulling his legs apart, Golgalax ripped the sorcerer in two, depositing him on a nearby rooftop.

Golgalax burned the church next, then the market. He didn’t chase as the people fled. He didn’t need to kill them all. He would burn the fields and let starvation do the rest.

Shling!

A ballista bolt whipped past Golgalax, perforating the bottom edge of his right wing.

Golgalax screeched, searching for his attacker. He found the man on the castle wall, standing beside the iron ballista. The once-warped frame was now miraculously repaired.

“Sorcery!” Golgalax hissed.

Sure enough, the man wore a robe of obsidian dragon scales. He chanted a spell, levitating an iron bolt twice his size. Once loaded, a new spell added tension to the ballista. A third spell bewitched the bolt, blessing it to find its mark.

Twang!

The bolt launched at Golgalax, nothing more than a blur. The dragon furled one wing, veering to the left, but it was too late.

Shling!

The bolt struck at the junction of his right wing, nearly taking it off completely.

Golgalax plummeted to the earth, struggling for a moment to regain control of the injured appendage. He could extend the wing to glide, but gaining altitude would be nearly impossible. Once he landed, he would be trapped.

With one last roar, Golgalax abandoned his revenge. He glided as far as physically possible, riding an airstream to the East. Finally, after several grueling hours, he collapsed on the forest floor a short distance from a farmhouse. He wrapped his tail around himself and lay facing the direction of the homestead, not that he was worried. Farmers were many things, but they weren’t Dragonslayers.

With a belly full of humans, Golgalax began his slumber. Next thing he knew, the sound of footsteps tugged at his conciousness.

Golgalax opened his eyes to the sight of a child standing mere inches from his nose. The boy was minuscule, wearing nothing but a cloth diaper and holding a half-eaten biscuit in his hand.

The toddler smiled, pointing at the Dragon’s long tail. “Snake.”

“How dare you!” Golgalax grumbled, raising his head. “Do you have a death wish, child?”

The toddler’s eyes widened, and he took several steps back, wobbling like a drunkard. Then, the child smiled again. “Snake!”

Golgalax sat up, wincing as he repositioned his wing. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t burn you alive.”

The toddler frowned, fixating on the bloody wound. “Owie,” the toddler announced. He wobbled closer, almost touching the wound as he pointed. “Owie!”

“Yes, from your people. Your people did this, do you understand? You bloodthirsty, power hungry, genocidal humans.”

Confused, the toddler looked down at the biscuit in his hand. After some thought, the boy extended his hand. “Bite?”

“What?” Golgalax grumbled. “You think some deplorable piece of dough will placate my wrath?”

“Bite?” The toddler repeated, holding the half-eaten biscuit before the dragon’s massive jaws.

“I don’t want your food, incompetent child. I want your people to suffer. Do you even know the atrocities that your species has committed? Do you have any inkling of the monstrosity that is your birthright?”

The toddler frowned, squatting slightly before plopping down onto his bum. He said nothing, watching the dragon with inquisitive eyes, mesmerized by the gleam of the scales.

“Before I kill you, you should know what you are,” Golgalax decided. “You may be innocent now, but you’ll grow up to be a killer, nothing more.” Golgalax sighed. “I’m two thousand and one years old. I remember the Old Era, before your kind arrived on this continent. It was beautiful then. The very Earth was alive. The forest was full of pixies and nymphs. Elves lived among the trees. Mermaids filled the shorelines and centaurs ruled the plains. Life was diverse… equal. No single species was superior. Then, the humans arrived.”

Golgalax growls, blowing hot air in the child’s face. “You didn’t have magic, but you found other ways to thrive. You decimated the forest, making room for your cities. But it wasn’t enough to live, you wanted power. You saw our magic, and you envied it. You discovered that if you consume a dragon’s heart, you retain some of our magic. Thus, sorcery was born.” Golgalax looked down at the toddler. “Oh, what am I even saying? It wasn’t you who did this; it was your ancestors.”

The toddler was back on his feet now, waddling toward Golgalax. He put his hand on the Dragon’s nose, rubbing it back and force across the scales. “Soft,” the boy smiled.

“You mean smooth,” Golgalax corrected. “‘Soft' refers to an object's compressibility. My hide is not soft, nor are my scales.”

The toddler leaned his head on the dragon’s snout, letting his own eyes droop shut. “Soft...Good snake.”

“Quiet, cretin.” Golgalax gave the boy a gentle shove with his snout, knocking the child onto his bum once more. “Do you not comprehend? I am not your friend! Humans killed my parents, feasting on their hearts, turning their skin into armor. Then, harnessing our power, they annihilated all magical life. Fairies, Phoenix, unicorn, all sacrificed for the sake of ‘security.’ That’s why I must kill you. So long as you live, this world will die.”

The toddler tilted his head to one side. “Die?”

“I’m sorry, little one.” Golgalax opened his jaws, summoning the Dragonfire. Flames filled his throat, illuminating the dark woods.

“Dammit!”

Golgalax swallowed the flames. He wanted to kill the child, he truly did, but he lacked the strength. This tiny child wished him no harm, nor did it view him as an enemy. Perhaps it would be a monster one day, but not yet. Not today.

“Fine. Go, human! Be gone with you! Go back to whatever hellhole you spawned from.”

The toddler simply stood there, frowning.

“What, are you lost? Go! GOOO!” Golgalax roared.

Still, the child didn’t budge. He held out his hand, offering his half-eaten biscuit once more. “Bite?”

“Fine. If it will get you to leave.” Golgalax lowered his head and opened his jaws.

Taking a timid step forward, the toddler hesitated before tossing the biscuit into the back of the dragon’s throat.

Golgalax swallowed, then shivered. Something didn’t feel right. Almost immediately, his muscles began to spasm, contorting his limbs into permanent flexion. Next came the pain, like a wave of ice water racing through his veins, paralyzing him completely.

“What is this?” Golgalax growled through a rigid jaw.

The toddler stood tall, his movements suddenly more fluid… sophisticated even. Then, his head began to swell, expanding like a balloon. The bones in his hands bulged against the skin, threatening to rupture at any moment. Dozens of teeth burst through the child’s gum line, and a short beard oozed from his face.

In a matter of seconds, the mindless toddler transformed into a grown man… or rather, a grown sorcerer. The man adjusted the loincloth—his only apparel—before addressing the dragon.

“I was right!” the sorcerer uttered in disbelief. “Magic can’t penetrate scales, but that doesn’t make you immune on the inside. Amazing. All it took was one bewitched biscuit.”

Golgalax grimaced as the magic seeped into his bloodstream like a neurotoxic poison. His guts twisted, and his heart began to race. A newfound pressure began to grow behind his eyes, threatening to split his skull in two.

“Go on then!” Golgalax grunted. “Finish me off. Must you make me suffer a slow death?”

The sorcerer hesitated. He didn’t seem very excited for having outsmarted a dragon.

“Is it true?” the sorcerer asked.

“Is what true?” Golgalax choked.

“Did humans kill the fae? And the centaurs? I—” The sorcerer bit his tongue. “I was told that dragon’s burned the Great Plains, killing the centaur. They burned the Endless Forest. I was taught they incinerated everything. They said that Dragonmagic is destructive magic. I mean... it makes sense, doesn't it? Fire can't help but burn."

Golgalax coughs. “Every man is the hero of their own story, even if it means making the story fiction. I’d expect nothing less from a conqueror.”

“But... if you're right... how do I stop it?” the sorcerer asked, his voice laced with panic. “How do I change our course? Humans aren’t killers. Or at least, we didn’t mean to be. We can fix this. Please, how do we fix this?”

Golgalax slumped to the ground, no longer strong enough to lift his chin. “You can’t,” Golgalax mumbled. “Ruin is in your nature. Look at me, for example. I spared you, and you murdered me. So long as you live, the Earth is doomed.”

“I didn’t know… we can change! You have to believe me!”

The edges of Golgalax’s vision slowly grew dark. “It’s okay. You didn't choose this path... I see that now. No more than a viper chooses to be venomous. You cannot alter your nature, no matter how hard you try." His eyes slowly closed, and he spoke his final words.

"Fire can’t help but burn.”