FA+
Shop
868 submissions
Summer, Twentieth Year of the Xin Zhuo Emperor
A familiar scent suddenly interrupted her thoughts. Morha wheeled around to see a figure furtively darting among the shadows.
“I know you’re there. Show yourself!” The mušḫuššu roared, gathering up a large current.
Silence followed, but she could clearly smell the fear. It obviously centered around the darkened ruins of a covered walkway hidden behind a row of stele. With a sigh, Morha balled up a charge and sent it hurtling over the corridor, whereupon it exploded in a massive, luminous shower of electrical sparks. With a yelp, the figure leaped out into sight and fell to the ground.
Lord Buzhong, the Minister of Ceremonies, looked much worse for wear since when the mušḫuššu last saw him. The formerly clueless, overweight, impeccably dressed and ornately adorned noble now looked battered, nervous, thinner, and hungdog, wearing clothing that was uncharacteristically dirty and torn.
Trembling, Lord Buzhong slowly got back to his feet and raised his sword at the dragon. “Stay back, Zihuan! I’ll hurt you if I must!”
Morha snorted, then with the hairs rising upon her back casually swiped at the Minister of Ceremonies. Electricity arced from her claws and jumped through the jian in the human’s hands, delivering a violent shock. With a cry Lord Buzhong dropped his weapon and fell back on his butt. The purple dragon immediately loomed over him.
“Pathetic.” She snorted.
As the mušḫuššu stepped towards her former master the human desperately tried to back up on his hands and feet, crawling rearwards like a crab.
“Please! Spare me!” He cried desperately, “I'll give you anything you want! Just let me go!”
“What you will give me?” Morha snarled. “I wanted my freedom, and despite your efforts I took it. I seek nothing but vengeance.”
“Please, no-”
The mušḫuššu's claws dug into the earth as she stormed towards her prey, her teeth shining in the moonlight, her hairs stuck up from the ionized charge she was collecting.
“You enslaved me, kept me as a pet for the Emperor, and punished me when I tried to escape.” The dragon growled ominously.
Lord Buzhong grasped his hands together. “Mercy, Morha.” He squeaked.
The mušḫuššu stopped. A kaleidoscope of emotions raced through her head: fear, anger, hatred and desperation.
Like that foggy evening at Xifu when Morha faced down her friend trying to kill her.
“Please, Qing! You’re better than this! Fight it! You’re not an automaton! You’re not a beast! You can make a choice!”
Duty, compassion, limits, balance.
Forgiveness.
Dammit.
The mušḫuššu's anger abruptly broke, like a storm cloud that had released all of its rain. For an awkward minute, the two figures stood still, watching each other.
Then Morha calmed down and sighed before gathering herself together.
“Yet you did feed and shelter me and kept me alive. I cannot complain about that.” The purple dragon announced flatly. “I guess you could have been much worse. Therefore, I will spare you. Leave this place, and never come back.”
Lord Buzhong did not utter a single word in response. No cry, no expression of relief, no signs of gratitude, the minister simply dropped his jian, turned around, and fled back into the shadows, quickly leaving Morha alone again.
The purple dragon sighed again, more to herself than anything.
Folks were complicated.
Goldfinger - Forgiveness
From
TheDinosaurMann!
A familiar scent suddenly interrupted her thoughts. Morha wheeled around to see a figure furtively darting among the shadows.
“I know you’re there. Show yourself!” The mušḫuššu roared, gathering up a large current.
Silence followed, but she could clearly smell the fear. It obviously centered around the darkened ruins of a covered walkway hidden behind a row of stele. With a sigh, Morha balled up a charge and sent it hurtling over the corridor, whereupon it exploded in a massive, luminous shower of electrical sparks. With a yelp, the figure leaped out into sight and fell to the ground.
Lord Buzhong, the Minister of Ceremonies, looked much worse for wear since when the mušḫuššu last saw him. The formerly clueless, overweight, impeccably dressed and ornately adorned noble now looked battered, nervous, thinner, and hungdog, wearing clothing that was uncharacteristically dirty and torn.
Trembling, Lord Buzhong slowly got back to his feet and raised his sword at the dragon. “Stay back, Zihuan! I’ll hurt you if I must!”
Morha snorted, then with the hairs rising upon her back casually swiped at the Minister of Ceremonies. Electricity arced from her claws and jumped through the jian in the human’s hands, delivering a violent shock. With a cry Lord Buzhong dropped his weapon and fell back on his butt. The purple dragon immediately loomed over him.
“Pathetic.” She snorted.
As the mušḫuššu stepped towards her former master the human desperately tried to back up on his hands and feet, crawling rearwards like a crab.
“Please! Spare me!” He cried desperately, “I'll give you anything you want! Just let me go!”
“What you will give me?” Morha snarled. “I wanted my freedom, and despite your efforts I took it. I seek nothing but vengeance.”
“Please, no-”
The mušḫuššu's claws dug into the earth as she stormed towards her prey, her teeth shining in the moonlight, her hairs stuck up from the ionized charge she was collecting.
“You enslaved me, kept me as a pet for the Emperor, and punished me when I tried to escape.” The dragon growled ominously.
Lord Buzhong grasped his hands together. “Mercy, Morha.” He squeaked.
The mušḫuššu stopped. A kaleidoscope of emotions raced through her head: fear, anger, hatred and desperation.
Like that foggy evening at Xifu when Morha faced down her friend trying to kill her.
“Please, Qing! You’re better than this! Fight it! You’re not an automaton! You’re not a beast! You can make a choice!”
Duty, compassion, limits, balance.
Forgiveness.
Dammit.
The mušḫuššu's anger abruptly broke, like a storm cloud that had released all of its rain. For an awkward minute, the two figures stood still, watching each other.
Then Morha calmed down and sighed before gathering herself together.
“Yet you did feed and shelter me and kept me alive. I cannot complain about that.” The purple dragon announced flatly. “I guess you could have been much worse. Therefore, I will spare you. Leave this place, and never come back.”
Lord Buzhong did not utter a single word in response. No cry, no expression of relief, no signs of gratitude, the minister simply dropped his jian, turned around, and fled back into the shadows, quickly leaving Morha alone again.
The purple dragon sighed again, more to herself than anything.
Folks were complicated.
Goldfinger - Forgiveness
From
TheDinosaurMann!
Category Artwork (Digital) / Portraits
Species Dragon (Other)
Size 2000 x 2500px
File Size 2.42 MB
Comments