Hidden far from the world of draconic order is the village of Xanan. It is a place that has lived in prosperity for at least a generation, thanks to the sacrifice made by its leader of his only child. Despite the lineage breaking, the people of the village and their closest neighbors enjoy the prosperity of bountiful harvests and plentiful population growth, to the point where they have spread all around the mountain that peaks above their home, creating a ring around it.
It is a peaceful, if uneventful, existence, and one that the people would not give up for anything.
So, when teh mountain rumbles with a strange and unpredicted anger, many stopped their daily lives to watch with fear and trembling as a massive shadow descended from it, spreading across teh entire town to eclipse the life-giving warmth of the sun for only a minute, but it is a minute that changes their lives forever.
“The spirits of the mountain must demand more from us,” says the current leader. He turns to his only child, his son, Kiernan, and with a heavy burden on his heart, sends the boy, no man, for he is now 18, up the mountain.
Kiernan climbs the steep and trecherous path, eventually making his way to the summit with the backpack laden wiht offerings. He makes it to the altar stone and dumps his contents out before it, only to pause and frantically search through the stones and debris.
“Tricked you up here, didn’t they?” comes the playful voice from behind him.
Kiernan spins around. The young man’s eyes widen as he sees the cloaked figure sitting on the cold rock. Where her skin shows is scaley, and in her hands she holds an egg, placed upon her lap. When she looks up, her dragon’s snout becomes visible, and through it she shows her bright blue eyes. “My name is Tirna. Do you know of me?”
Kiernan shakes his head.
“So, the people have already forgotten me? Has it really been that long?”
“Who are you… I mean, what are you? The spirit.”
“I’m a spirit, but not the one the altar is for.”
“Oh, I see…” he says. “I didn’t mean to bring nothing. I was told this had food in it, our prosperity given to the goddess who lives here.”
She stands, her cloak falling aside, revealing her curvy and bountiful form and bright green scales. “Oh, but you have given out of your prosperity.” She says this, walking up to him, one hand caressing her egg, the other pressing against his chest. “For the men of your village weren’t nearly as robust the last time I was there.
“I… is that so?” he gasps, gulping.
“Oh yes. You’re a strong lad, aren’t you?” she leans in, sniffing. “And you’re 18?”
“I started the trek on the morning of my birthday,” he admits.
“So, you are a virgin?”
He puffs out his chest. “Of course I am. What a silly question.”
“Do you still want to be, now that the taboo of Aoc is no longer a curse upon your head?”
He blinks. “I, uh, don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to,” she says, stroking over his shirt. “All you need to know is that you’ve brought the sacrifice, and I’m ready to receive it,” she punctuates this with a primordial growl and a licking of her snout.
“Oh? Ohh!”
“Yes.”
She grips his shirt, pulling it up over his head. The young man complies, showing off the muscles he obtained with the mix of a healthy diet and the strenuous exercise of a farmer. She pushes him down against the stone slab, knocking the pebbles and rocks aside as she climbs atop him, always holding her egg close. She leans in over him, her breasts dangling above his face. “You’ve been staring at this, young man,” she growls. “Go ahead and take of them what you will.”
He grabs at those wonderous breasts, bringing them together and wrapping his lips around them, groaning as he suckles upon them, her milk springing free.
Beyond the veil, in the realm of the goddess, Xasandra coos gently, sitting back and petting the head of another one of her pets. “And so, the circle of life continues.”
She shudders, her breath becoming visible. “Even here in my realm?” She says, swirling around.
Behind her, an icy simulacrum of a majestic dragon appears before her, its crystalline eyes weeping as it melts in the warmth of her domain.
“You’re treading on dangerous ground, Xasandra,” the icy voice beckons to her. “You are really going to give the lesser races magic?”
“I didn’t see you trying to stop me,” she purrs, standing up and tapping her chin. “Oh, that’s right, you can’t! Because I’m a goddess, and you’re just a mortal yourself. How does it feel, Trey, being a so-called lesser race to someone as mighty as myself?”
He growls, stepping back from her. “You betray dragonkind, and for what?”
“For something greater than dragonkind, for an immortality beyond that you could conceive of—the immortality of ideas of bloodlines. Deep down, we are all the same things, bit by bit. What comes together makes us different, and that difference is merely superficial.”
“Not when you are made of something, not of this world. You gave up your body, your people, and your world. Your seed and your may still exist in the prime material, but you cannot. One day, Xasandra, you and the other gods will fall. It is only a matter of time.
“Yes, but what I plant shall grow into something wonderful.”