Belshazzar

Story:

We've all heard the saying "play with fire and you'll get hurt," but what of lightning? It stings twice as hard with all the vigor and fury of the sky itself. One man learned this the hard way. An alchemist, just fresh into adulthood, thought himself smarter than his peers at the Academy of Alchemia. He'd glimpsed a creature flitting through the clouds on stormy nights spent studying. It seemed to be a Dragonkin who had befriended the powers of lightning. 

Feeling envious towards a new star student who'd stolen the teacher's attention, he hatched a plan - to beckon this Dragon from the sky and capture it, offering its freedom in exchange for the mastery of electricity. Surely with power over one of the elements, new opportunities would present themselves to the alchemist. Doors to undiscovered territory would blow open wide. He would change the foundation of the world. 

Preparations seemed endless. Weeks passed. A year. Eventually, however, the alchemist had successfully created a half-formed Dragonkin whelpling. Even attempting the creation of life meant breaking all the academy's rules, not to mention the unspoken rules of many. It was not strong enough to live, being only a false image of life. All it could manage was pained cries for help from its phantom mother. That is all he needed. Bait. 

Placing it centered in an alchemists circle during the next stormy night, the alchemist laid in wait. The poor infant's cries barely cut through the thunder and rain, but in a break of silence, it reached up high. Pleading for someone to come save it. And there it was. A bolt clad in black oil and crackling lightning cast down onto the ground like the spear of God, leaving black smoke in its wake. Out of this smoke stepped a man. Beautiful, sharp features and an ethereal stare that passed through the alchemist like bad news through the heart. He immediately understood this would not go as planned. The alchemist's circle had failed. It was meant to cast a cage over the Dragonkin but was now no more than smudges on the ground.

 And it was too late to turn back.

 As the lightning-clad Dragonkin carefully scooped up the bundle, he said nothing, and the alchemist took his opportunity to creep out of the shadows while nervously rubbing over his wrists. "Great Dragon." He began. The formalities improvised through anxiety. "I've noticed your mastery of lightning, and I admire you so. I study alchemy, you see, at the Academia behind me. I'm sure someone as powerful as you are aware that alchemy requires some contact with the elements." His lips pursed. "If you would share with me the language of lightning, may be that the creation of life will become a complete art, that we can avoid making such half-creatures in the future." 

Rain continued to pour down. The Dragon said nothing. Using flattery to win his favor would not work; an age-old practice and insult to injury. Dragons were far beyond their days of spouting riddles and lapping up compliments while growing fat in their caves. But the Dragonkin's face remained unchanged, focused on the whelpling who had ceased to breathe. "You wished to cage me." His voice eventually came. It was like a low murmur, steady and deep from the chest, forbidden to human ears. The hair on the alchemist's arms bristled. "You wished to cage me and keep me hostage for my powers. To bottle me as one of your alchemist's potions. Is this not true?" When there was no answer his eyes slid to the human. The contact enough to shoot ice up anyone's spine.

 Lips stuttering, the man answered; "Y-yes. That is true. But you must understand I was afraid. You powers are beyond human comprehensio-" "Cease your useless flattery." Silence in an instance. Both of them, silenced as the wrappings around the infant were pulled over its face to let it rest. The Dragon continued. "What you have done today is beyond forgiveness. I have kept an eye on the Academy for a long time, offered it protection from those of my kind who were skeptical towards humans' use of the elements. But I see, now, that they were right. You and yours deserve no mercy." The words were lifeless as they ripped the alchemist to thin threads of fear. Knees buckling, his lips formed apology upon apology, only some of them voiced. His fingers digging into the dirt and grass, he groveled, pleaded. But the Dragon remained unchanged and staring down at him from above as a marble statue. 

He spoke his final words; "Tonight the skies will raze your academy to the ground. All shall die but you. Live and tell the tale of how nature responds when you rip life from its hands to mold as you wish." A glimpse of facial expression, then. Sadness laced with disappointment pulling down at the corners of the Dragon's eyes. Was this what he had been protecting all along? His voice, a whisper. "Foolish humans." 

This was hundreds of years ago. Alchemy, which was already a debated topic, has since become a forbidden art. And those who oppose it as well as practice it will look back in history on this event - among others - as proof of man's hubris. Do not tamper with the creation of life. Not only that - do not tamper with a Dragon's trust for man. A Dragonkin's trust is not so easily won. To break one's heart is to risk your life. 

EXTRA: 

- an older dragonkin! maybe not physically, but in years lived.
-has a soft spot for outcasts and those without a home - doesn't use many facial expressions, but doesn't realize it himself
- actually knows a bit of alchemy from days when he got along with the humans at the academy but dislikes using it
- his hair puffs when feeling strong emotions
- leader of an older clan/flock of dragonkin. in modern days they don't all live together, but he is still recognized as the leader
- constantly fighting with his soft spot for humans
- has a hard time with more energetic personalities but secretly enjoys their company (in doses)