Igneel's Stories

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Here's a little place to keep all of Igneel's stories for my tryout form.
Below is an archive to help me keep track of everything, have fun browsing~

Archive
Renaissance Mythos
Communication
Life
First Love
Grandfather Clock

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Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…

There once was a dragon by the name of Igneel, who wasn't quite a dragon at all- in fact he was a Plumerian who the villagers had dubbed a dragon. But I'm getting a bit ahead of myself- the village doesn't come until later on in the story, after all. Igneel lived up in a small cliffside cave at the time, taking up a temporary residence as his last home had met a rather unfortunate fate- being immortal he couldn't stay in one place forever, so his home had to change periodically. In his new residence, Igneel had a fine view over a small village. It was around the Renaissance time period- where creativity and intellect was beginning to blossom, one of Igneel's favorite time periods for those exact reasons. However like all villages, this village had it's rumors and myths as well. One of which, pertained to our character in question- Igneel.

Igneel had been outside his cave stretching and generally lounging about when a small party of knights had come along. There were only three of them, for if there had been two it'd simply be a pair- and the knights had seen Igneel and been particularly shocked- they recoiled, holding their swords outstretched in their clunky metal armor.

"Halt, Dragon!" The first knight bellowed from inside his gloriously decorated suit that sparkled magnificently in the sun, it's large plumage blooming overhead in a lovely arrangement. "You're not to come even one step closer to our village!"

Igneel, the now proclaimed 'dragon', took only one step closer to the knight. "Oh really?" He sneered, his lips curled in a cocky smirk. "Then make me!" The dragon puffed a small flame, demonstrating his power- however the knight didn't stand against him- in fact the first knight ran home and abandoned his quest out of fear.

"H-halt, Dragon!" The second knight croaked from inside his shaking armor, it too was gorgeous and well carved- intricate swirls decorating it's smaller frame. "Y-you're not going to come one s-step closer to our v-village!"

Igneel surveyed the second knight's tension, knowing he hadn't the gaul to stand against the dragon's wrath. So Igneel tauntingly took one step closer, his lips curling in another smile- but before he could even utter a word the clattering heap of armor known as the second knight had already abandoned his quest as well and fled.

There was only one knight left, and his suit of armor was the least flashy of the group- it's plumage wasn't as large and it's carvings not nearly as ornate- it was a simple, true suit of armor, one befitting a knight of his stature and not a decorative knight like the others with no real bravery.

"Halt, Dragon!" The third knight spoke, loud and clear through his modest helmet, his poise clear and bold. "I won't let you take even one more step towards my village!"

Igneel had already looked this knight up and down, and as he had the knights prior he stepped just one step closer with a grin on his face. "Is that so?" Spoke the dragon, "If that's the case, then make me!"

But this knight was not like the others- and he lashed with his sword at the beast. Igneel retreated into the recesses of his cave- and the knight was only a foot behind. Inside the cave it was pitch black- and the knight couldn't see his sword ahead of him. He stumbled a moment, taking a second to regain his composure and allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness engulfing him.

"Come out, coward!" Barked the knight- and as he did, a flame lit in the darkness of the cave. The flame quickly spread from one plume into a ring surrounding the knight, and sitting on the cave floor where he stood there was a pile of fine, round, golden coins. "What is the meaning of this?" The knight asked, beholding the dragon sitting before him- the pair surrounded by the sudden blinding light and the mass of small, reflective coins.

"You were brave enough to follow me into my cave and stand up for what you believed to be true." Igneel responded, his voice calm and melodic. "Even if it isn't my belief- I admire your determination. You are a true knight." Igneel stood from his seated position, spreading one wing to gesture to the treasure. "Take as much as you can carry and tell them that you have defeated me."

"But they won't believe me." Said the knight frankly. "I am, after all, the poorest and weakest of the knights." The knight looked downward at his scuffed metal boots and imagined the prior knights fine, ornate ones with a sigh.

"It is not for your wealth or your strength that I have chosen you instead of the others." Igneel bellowed, his voice clear and strong. "I have chosen you for your honor. If they will not believe you, then here- take one of my scales." And thus Igneel removed a small orange scale from his belly and handed it to the knight.

"How do I thank you?" The knight looked to the scaled beast, holding the fiery scale in one hand and a bag of the dragon's bounty in the other. Upon looking at it, the scale reflected the glory of a burning flame. "You've been far too kind to me, after all."

"There's no need." Igneel said frankly, returning to his seat. "I've no need for appraisal- just knowing you're happy with your reward is more than enough."

"Assuredly," the knight spoke again, "There must be something I can do to repay your kindness."

"Well I suppose there is one way…" Igneel started, a small grin forming on his face.

And thus spread the rumor of the Dragon of Flame that dwelled in the cliffside cave- with riches so endless a man couldn't even fathom it's sheer mass. A large, mighty beast with scales that reflected the beast's mighty and inextinguishable flame. A dragon so mighty that even the wealthiest and strongest of knights couldn't hope to best him.

No, only the truly brave and selfless knights could enter his den- and when they did, they would fight him valiantly in battle. And upon their victory- the dragon would reward them for their act and their triumph.

And his name was…

…Igneel, the Dragon of Flame.

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Back in times long since passed, creatures of the earth didn't yet exist- nor did they speak the English language, of course. Sometimes human beings make the mistake that all languages of the beast are translatable into English- however they are dead wrong. Igneel could speak from experience on that particular matter. For the longest time he'd been living with the dinosaurs, mammoths, animals and watching life evolve until finally man was brought upon the Earth.

The first time Igneel encountered a human being who spoke English was in North America during the colonial days. Great Britain was settling in the Americans- and Igneel just so happened to be foraging for food at the same time as the colonists set out to find their own meal.

"What do we do sir?" Said one colonist to another.

"I don't know!" The other responded harshly, "How do you expect me to know!"

Igneel was watching them from the bushes as they bickered back and forth over food and rations- studying this language from afar. It seemed so grossly complicated in comparison to the language of the animals or the reptiles or the birds. He spied on these colonists for some time before eventually they caught him.

"Sir!" A colonist cried, "We caught some sort of beast!"

"A beast you say?" Said the colonist in charge, and when he went to investigate- he did in fact find a beast. Igneel, at the time, had very little knowledge of English- and as such to the colonists he may as well have been just any other wild animal in the woods.

They eventually, after much bickering, decided to let Igneel go- and as a first impression of the English language Igneel already had a distinct hatred for it's nonsensical words and the judgmental people that spoke it. He learned later that not all people were so harsh and crude, and that more likely than not the colonists had been acting on fear of him- and fear for themselves. He doesn't hold a grudge about this, in fact he later got to know the colonists- once he figured out how to speak effective English mind you.

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Before the written language of man, Igneel sat in his cave, pacing. His thoughts had always been in a series of small pictures that he saw as letters- they simply formed that way for him. He decided one day, that perhaps these characters of text would be better written out as a language.

When Igneel was creating his language he dipped his tail in a pool of ink and drug it across the cave walls and floor to create the text characters, to give them life. Thus he determined the C shaped marking on his tail tip and his cheeks would be the word for 'life'. From that character, an entire language was formed. More akin to Japanese or Chinese, with multiple characters- though Igneel's characters varied and there was a significant distinction for each and every word. Even the color of some characters varied, and occasionally they began to look more like pictures or markings than words or letters.

As far as how he spoke this language- well that was quite simple. He spoke this language in many different languages.

How is that possible, you may ask? Well Igneel's thoughts are instantaneously in this base language he created for himself- he simply converted it into many different languages over and over and over again.

Later on when he encountered man and his many different languages, he reflected upon his own and only then realized it was odd that his characters had no spoken form or true way of formally speaking it- though since he'd yet to invent one in thousands of years, he decided that the odd thing about his language would be it's lack of a spoken form- the markings on his body meaning 'life' were the only true reminders of this language in his more recent years- as he'd grown slightly akin to speaking in the english language which plumerians could understand.

He hadn't told anyone else about this language of his- but it's characters in immaculate sentences, paragraphs, stories- they're written down in his books and on his cave walls, strewn about in an orderly yet random fashion. He writes all his books in this foreign language- so only he can read them. Though he does print documents in English and various other languages so others may understand and appreciate his literary work as well.

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