The following commentary was submitted to The Fourth Crown by first-year student Nathaniel “Brokuzhizan’s Fist of Fire” Swenson, a hopeful Scandinavian Studies Major and co-founder of the college’s Fantasy Literature League.
“COME CRACK OF DUSK TONIGHT shall I find myself completely titillated by the sight of a Rhodesian Reaper’s crimson scales. I eagerly await, almost feel the unearthly hearth of his warm-blooded, reptilian heart beating within my own chest. The tension between my own human-loins and the immense passion of the intersection of his indomitable hindquarters renders me frothing.”
Long have I awaited tonight’s Dragon Show. T’was the sole reason I ventured as student to this college- I was told I would be accepted for who I was no matter what, and that the college regularly celebrates identity through events like the Dragon Show.
“As the last of the dying rays of sunlight escape below yonder horizon, the world will feel the tremble as the towering Vermilion Thornax rises her scaly head and emits a sulfur-filled fireball that ignites my inner passion.”
I am perplexed as to what form this most noble showcasing will assume. Shall it be a contemporary festival that favors the holistic past of each dragon, celebrating their accomplishments as fire brethren in the cold world of men? Perhaps. Will it expose itself to be a festival of the past, centered on the sheer abilities of the dragons alone? How, pray HOW, can this celebration of the Life of Fire and Fire of Life bow low enough to the undeniable sanctity of our Scaled Superiors? I can scarcely wait to find out.
“Our eyes interlock. I can read his elder soul through the deep violent puddles of red that mark his gaze. His hatred is clear, aye. Yet, a subtle aura of respect radiates from blood eyes and muscled snout. In this moment we are one. Two beings forged in the fires of our shared stares. We begin to move together through the dungeon, casting demons aside like the waves of Aanathor. This is our moment. The scribes will surely remember it as such.”
While my own energy for the event cannot be rivaled, I am slightly dissatisfied with my peers’ reaction to this most glorious celebration of flesh and spirit. There is some fanfare surrounding this event, but the locals are referring to it through shorthand as the “drag show”. This is in blatant defiance of the very core of Dragon Ethics and impedes on the sanctity of their honored, ancient name.
“Upon his mount my strength comes to me. We burst from the lair. His muscles ripple under my saddle, each burst of flame warming my inner thighs like a lover’s breath. We soar to new heights, casting down forces of the Unholy. Thy kingdom shrinks as we elevate to glory. We are alone. The world is dark and warm.”
Regardless of the commoners’ slang, I will not be disheartened. This is a celebration of identity and spirit. No brash comments or improper nomenclature can take from me what is inherently mine. My dignity. My soul. My love.
“An arrow floats through the dark warmth. His breath falters and his wings fail to keep haste. Our dance falls of beat. We decline, losing elevation at increasing speeds. The kingdom emerges from the darkness, anew. He calls for air and he screams for flight. Tis no answer I can give. Powerless we fall, ripped from the heavens at the height of our journey. His head turns our gaze meets for one last time. The connection is present, yet not of the previous quality. It is soft. It is tender. It is forfeit. We yield to each other, and we yield to death.”
Hope to see you all there!
હું દુઃખ અંડરટેકર અને પ્રેમ એસ્કેલેટર છું. વલણવાળું અશકત ખેડૂતો ની નબળાઇ જડમૂળથી જ્યારે હું તેમના ખ્યાતિ ના માતા ડ્રેગન ઓફ આંચળ અને પીણા એટી વખોડવું થઈ શકે છે.
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