the-garden-of-night

[the-garden-of-night]

I lowered my head to garner a better look at the child. Even up close, he was still a frail little boy, no larger than one of my talons. He was shaking violently, and a little bit of snot was dribbling from his nose. The child was clealy on the verge of panic, and yet he still head his wooden sword aloft in defiance, his face contorted out of fear and anger. "Oh dear child, why do you seek death?" I asked, huffing a cloud of smoke over him. I tried to keep my tone gentle, yet he still startled as I spoke, almost jumping out of his skin in terror. Evidently word of dragon's intelligence had not reached this corner of the world yet.

"You ate our sheep!" The boy cried. "The whole village needed them!" His words were shrill, almost a scream. Ah. It was a fair enough point. I had taken a few sheep from a field nearby. I tried to avoid human settlements, but I had been particularly lazy that day, and they were just so close to home... But there was something else to it. "From what I remember, your herd far outnumbered what I took. You would hardly notice the difference without them. Why are you really here, boy?"

"You'll take more and more! You need to be killed!" Oh the foolishness of youth. This was not worth the wakeup. "Alright. You have my solemn oath that I shall not approach your village and it's people again without good reason, nor shall I kill, steal or eat your livestock. I think that sums up the matter. You may go now, before I change my mind." With that, I returned to my nesting spot at the back of the cave and closed my eyes, eager to return to sleep.

Several minutes had passed, and I could still hear the quiet shuffle of his feet against the stone floor. The child was drifting from insignificance to minor annoyance, and I am not above eating children that thoroughly piss me off. "Why are you still here, child?" I said. A spark of flame erupted from my nostrils, illuminating his terrified face.

"I can't leave..." He muttered. "I have to kill you, or they won't let me leave." He lowered his face, the stick at his side forgotten. A sick sense of revulsion filled me, and I felt the anger churning inside me. "What is your name, boy?" "Morgan, sir." "And who sent you here Morgan?" His expression became a little embarassed, and he shuffled his feet as he talked, head down. "Just some older boys. They'll beat me up if I leave this cave." "Does this happen often?" I asked. He nodded slowly, head still down.

It would take a thousand humans to match the strength and violence of a dragon, and yet I had found myself surprised at the depravity and bloodlust they could hold. Whether it was a king enslaving his people, or a couple of boys bullying a child, it was all madness. The contempt of which they held life was astonishing. I couldn't solve every issue, but perhaps this one could have a happier ending. "Are they waiting outside?" I asked, gentler this time. I wouldn't let him see the anger welling up inside me. He was scared enough. "Yeah, just past the mouth of the cave." He said, pointing to the entrance.

Calmly, quietly, I padded around the corner, and - ah, yes, there they were. They were hidden behind a rock, the top of their heads poking out so they could watch the bloodbath. There were two of them, only slightly older than Morgan, but big enough to hurt him badly. When they spotted me approaching, they ducked out of sight, but not quick enough. I lunged forward, and arching my spine, I let out an enormous roar. My voice echoed off the trembling cave walls. Outside, birds scattered, trees shook, the whole ground reverberated under my might. All of my rage was let out in a single instant for the whole world to hear. The two boys screamed in sheer terror, hands clutched over their ears. In an instant, they were sprinting for the forest, desperate to get away. Satisfied, I turned back inside.

Morgan stood, still as a stone as I approached. He had once again found his sword, and held it tightly in his hand. "Did you kill them?" He asked. His voice trembled as he spoke, as if he wouldn't like the answer. "No, but I don't think they'll be troubling anyone anytime soon." Still, it wouldn't be long before they'd be up to the same tricks. Humans never learned. his would need a permanent end.

I moved towards my hoard of wealth, behind a fake wall of stone I had conjured. Shattering the illusion, an enourmous pile of gold, trinkets, jewellery and weapons appeared. It had taken centuries of effort to aquire it all, and I loathed to part with any of it... but one piece given could have a more profound effect when used in the correct hands.

I deftly took a runestone from the top of the pile, moving aside priceless artifacts and weapons to reach it. The rune blazed golden, impossibly bright. Leaning down once more, I stretched out the paw with the runestone on it to Morgan. "Take the runestone, and place your sword on my paw." He obediently followed my instructions, placing the sharpened piece of wood down. It was a roughly hewn thing, the barest idea of what a weapon should look like. Perhaps his father had made it for him, or he had taken the time to cut it himself. It didn't matter. "Place the runestone on the blade." While dragons didn't have magic the same way humans did, this spell easily transferrable, thanks to the runestone holding it in place. All it took was a gentle nudge and a few words of power for the golden runes to start glowing brighter and brighter. With a flash, it dissapeared.

The wooden sword on my paw was no longer a measly thing. It still held the same simple design of it's original craftsmanship, it was now smoother, refined. A small wooden hilt had been added, and there was now a sheen to it. The golden runes were now etched along the face of the blade, muted, but still glowing with power.

"That particular runestone was a spell that allows the user to create great weapons from anything. They're incredibly difficult to make, and I took this one from a great spellcaster some centuries back. In the wrong hands, you could level a continent, but I saw no use in that, so I kept it." Morgan looked on in wonder. I figured it unlikely he would have seen magic before.

"From what I've seen of humans, most of your war and violence stems from petty sources - greed, revenge, pride. But amongst the conflict, there were moments of greatness. Sacrifices to save the lives of people they had never met, generosity for survivors, expecting nothing in return. People standing up for what they believe in, even in the face of enourmous adversaries." I sighed, and moved my paw towards him. "With this blade, you'll be strong enough to hold your own against those boys. One day, you could use it to change the world. The choice is yours. As the sword got closer to Morgan, the runes glowed a little brighter. "Take the sword, Morgan. It's yours now, to use as you see fit." He wordlessly took the sword, and looked up in astonishment at me.

"Why are you giving me this?" He asked. "Sometimes you have to stand up and fight for yourself, even if the outcome is violence." I responded. "Now you have a weapon to hold your own, it's up to you how use it." "Thank you, great one!" Morgan yelled. "Now go, and know that no matter what path you choose, you'll always have my gift by your side." He let out a shaky bow, and slowly walked towards the entrance of the cave.

I could imagine all the thoughts going through his head, the dreams of being a great hero, or a noble knight. Honestly, it wouldn't matter. Hopefully, he'd be smart enough to not let it get stolen. It would be more than annoying having a crazy powerful blade let loose into the countryside. Content with the outcome of the afternoon, I settled back into my nest.

"Dragon, I've come to slay you!" Confused, you look at the unarmored child pointing a wooden sword at you.

[the-garden-of-night]

cw eldritch cat/ lots of eyes/blood (?

sorry for the long post btw

I added this one just because lol

I really thought i could finish these in 2 week when i barely have free time lmao

spanish ver. of the last drawing and references⬇⬇⬇

references ⬇⬇⬇

[the-garden-of-night]

[the-garden-of-night]

SOME GROUPS ALREADY DONE !!!

[the-garden-of-night]

This is it. I have achieved peak annoyance. I will never feel the same level of satisfaction as waking up my sister in a t rex costume

[the-garden-of-night]

do you ever just feel the urge to create? The absolute desire to make something, with your hands or with your words, to create worlds and make stories come to life?

the absolute yearning hunger to fill your life with words of your own creation, and to let others in to experience it all? The need to make others feel the same way about your stories as you do? To inflict emotion upon them, to make them sit and think and process your creations?

But when you begin to fill the desire, the words escape your grasp? No matter how long you plan, daydream, plot, you cannot make yourself sit and find the way through? your mind riots against your will, and you find yourself split in two with the desire to create but the lethargy to stop?

Do you lay prone, watching helplessly as your dreams and ambitions slip away, unable to make yourself move and continue creating? do you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper below the surface, knowing how agonizingly easy it should be to get up and keep going? Do you know how it feels to be inadequate to fulfill your desires?

cause that's how it feels to chew 5gum-

[the-garden-of-night]

Person A: Man, how do you stay so upbeat all the time? Person B: I call it "Violent Optimism!" Person A: Excuse me? Person B: When I'm upset, I reach deep into myself and find a place of calm and happiness.

Person B: And if someone else is upsetting me, I reach deep into them and keep shaking until they're not upsetting me anymore!