𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐑, dreamnoblade oneshots

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | end in fire

end in fire
- i see fire, ed sheeran

500 words !

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RUMOR says dragons live in the far north, beyond the archipelago. Most people hesitate to believe them; encounters with dragons seldom end well. Some kingdoms even dare to make a sport out of hunting the beasts.

Those kingdoms fell in the dead of night, torn asunder by flame. Dream's kingdom was among them.

He doesn't miss it, not particularly. No one of importance to him lived there. The nobility got cocky, and they paid the price. It's as simple as that.

Dream believes in the rumors, and he believes in dragons and their power. They're one of the few remaining creatures who can perform magic. That's what brings him here, having spent days crossing the world by boat and by horse.

His friend is ill. The dragons, he prays, can fix him.

It's not as though they're guaranteed to. Dragons are intelligent, but they're not human. They don't feel kinship; they have no obligation to help.

Humans never have either, to be fair. Dream learned that—that's why he's turned to the dragons.

And finally, after days of searching, he's found it: a cave. The gaping cavern looms before him, definitely big enough for several dragons. This is the first one he's found after nearly three days scouring the mountainside.

Dream tugs on his horse's reins, ignoring its signs of anxiety. This has to be the right place.

He leans over the cliff and calls out, "Hello?"

For a moment, there's no response—then a strong gale blasts out of the cave. Dream staggers back into Spirit, grabbing for balance.

Wing beats fill the air, and his eyes widen. Large claws, several times larger than Dream, grasp the edge of the cavern.

"Holy shit," he mutters as the dragon pulls itself up.

The beast looms, and it's clear that this isn't home to a colony of dragons—it's home to one, and it's fucking massive. Dream remembers this one: its polished white scales stained with blood, lightning shattering from its mouth, spiked tail destroying dozens of buildings with a single lash.

This is the dragon that destroyed his kingdom all those years ago.

Dream does not hate it. He doesn't have the time to, anyway.

He kneels as best as he can, keeping Spirit still as the horse trembles. "Please, great dragon," he murmurs, "save my friend. I'll do anything in return."

"Do not promise that," it returns.

"I have nothing else to offer."

"Does he mean so much to you?"

Dream tilts his head to look at Sapnap out of the corner of his eye. His best friend, one of the few survivors from the kingdom, lies slumped on Spirit's back. His face is deathly pale, and his breaths are shallow.

"Yes," Dream whispers. "He means everything to me."

The dragon mutters something that sounds oddly like "simp," but that doesn't make any sense. "Fine," it says. "There's something I want from your human lands."

"Name it. I'll bring it to you."

The dragon grins. "A potato."

"I beg your pardon?"