11 Dragon's Howl!

Facing the boundless sea, where spring warmed the air and flowers blossomed in profusion, she followed the path of the formidable dragon Lance to master the arts of healthy living.

As the sun ascended, casting its golden light across the horizon, she paced the soft sands, mimicking the yoga posture of Lance, the evil dragon, as she practiced the ancient techniques of health preservation.

Lance had taught her that the regimen consisted of eight precise posture, each to be performed between five and nine times, never less, never more. The precision was vital.

She found herself baffled by the complexity of the exercises, too intimidated to voice her questions, so she learned in silence. Her attempts were clumsy at first, but whenever she faltered, Lance's guiding claw was there to correct her form.

"It will take three to five months of diligent practice before you begin to notice a transformation within yourself," Lance had explained.

"Three to five months?" The duration seemed like an eternity on Black Dragon Island, and she secretly vowed to escape at the first chance. The thought of a perpetual life here, under the shadow of Lance, was too much to bear.

She spent nearly an hour mastering the eight yoga stances.

Lance reassured her "Perfection in these stances is not expected immediately. Even if your form is not yet flawless, consistent practice will lead to natural refinement. Remember, to align your spirit with nature."

She struggled with the concept—'spirit aligning with nature'? It was alien to her, as her background was steeped in spells and sorcery, not the philosophical depths of ancient health practices.

Nevertheless, she conceded to practicing. If Lance's techniques were truly as strong as he claimed, capable of warding off all ailments, then she would share this knowledge with her family back in the Faloran Empire, her father, mother, and Eva. Her haughty sister Athena might even earn this secret, should she renounce her claim to the throne.

And what of Lance, her draconic mentor? His kindness had not gone unnoticed. "When I ascend to the throne, I shall make Lance a prince," she mused, planning to construct a splendid palace as his residence.

Their futures seemed intertwined with promise.

"Lucia, demonstrate your abilities," Lance's voice brought her back to the present.

"Huh?" Lucia blinked, her mind snapping back from visions of empires and palaces.

"Abilities?"

"Yes, your capabilities as a young dragon. For instance, can you fly?"

"I, I, I can fly," she stammered, slightly embarrassed.

"..."

Flying was the most rudimentary skill for a dragon. Not flying would be tantamount to not being a dragon at all.

"Flying is but the bare minimum, Lucia. Now, show me something more, your attack capabilities, like the dragon's roar or the breath of fire. Show me your true power."

Lance harbored some doubts about the prowess of the amethyst young dragon he had rescued. Despite her formidable appearance, the little dragon had faced an encirclement by griffin knights just the day before and hadn't so much as breathed a fiery threat in their direction.

"Dragon roar? Can you manage that?" Lance queried, his tone tinged with skepticism.

Raising her head proudly, Lucia felt confident about this. "I can certainly roar."

"Then demonstrate. Roar towards the sea, and let's hear the strength of your dragon voice."

With a nod, Lucia inhaled deeply, her chest swelling with the forthcoming effort. Turning to face the vast ocean, she unleashed a roar with all her might. The sound that erupted was not the fearsome bellow of a dragon but a plaintive, "Ouch!!!"

The expression on Lance's face shifted into one of bafflement.

"An ouch? Really, Lucia?" Lance's voice was incredulous. "Dragons roar with power, tigers with ferocity, lions with majesty, and wolves... they howl. But this, this was a more of a cat's growl, not a dragon's roar. No wonder those griffin knights weren't the least bit intimidated by you."

Lucia, however, felt differently about her effort. "How was that? Quite formidable, wasn't it?" she asked, mistaking her loud, shrill shout for the majestic roar of a dragon king.

"Your volume was impressive, yes, but it lacked any real sense of dread or power," Lance replied, unimpressed.

Disheartened by the feedback but not defeated, Lucia prepared for her next demonstration. "What about dragon's breath? That should have some effect, right?"

Lance, curious and slightly apprehensive, nodded. "Let's see it then. Show me your dragon's breath."

Facing the sea once more, Lucia pondered the mechanics of this mythical exhalation. She imagined it as akin to a human spitting, surely that would suffice?

Taking another deep breath, she gathered her focus, and under Lance's watchful eye, she opened her mouth wide and expelled a forceful "Hetui—"

From her lips flew not flames nor frost, but a mere spray of saliva, shimmering briefly in the sunlight before disappearing into the sea breeze.

Lance stared, momentarily speechless, as he processed the underwhelming display.

Just as a droplet of saliva was poised to escape the lips of the baby dragon, Lucia, and merge with the ocean below, a sprightly sea fish leapt with remarkable timing. It caught the falling saliva mid-air and disappeared back into the depths with a splash.

"Ugh, what a repulsive creature," Lucia muttered in distaste.

Scarcely had she voiced her displeasure when the same fish breached the surface once more. It fixed her with an almost judgmental gaze, then shockingly, it expelled a mouthful of saliva right back at her.

"It's mocking me, it's actually mocking me!" Lucia exclaimed, her voice thick with indignation. The realization struck her hard; it wasn't just her imagination, the fish really was sneering at her, and twice at that!

"Oh, the nerve! What have I done to earn your scorn, fish? As a princess, I hold no contempt for you, mere ocean dweller. Dare you disdain me? Just wait, I might just dive in, catch you, roast you, and feast upon you!"

The young dragon Lucia fumed, utterly vexed. She speculated bitterly about the cause of the fish's disdain, perhaps it was because she wasn't a true dragon.

Her saliva lacked the mystical energies capable of granting marine life evolutionary leaps, a legend well-known in mythical circles, where it was said that the saliva of a genuine dragon could catalyze such transformations.

"That contemptible fish must be craving the potent drool of the vile dragon, Lance," Lucia concluded with a sneer.

"Where's the mighty dragon's breath?" taunted Lance, amused by the whole spectacle.

"That was merely my spit," Lucia replied sullenly.

"???"

"Don't jest with me."

"No jest, Lance. My fiercest dragon's breath is, in fact, my spit."

"???"

Lance furrowed his brow, puzzled. "Spit...is dragon's breath? Have all her formidable foes been vanquished by such means?"

Improbable as it seemed, it sparked fury in Lance. Clenching his claws into a fist, he delivered a swift thump to Lucia's head.

"Ouch—oh, it hurts, it really hurts!"

Lucia yelped, cradling her throbbing head and pacing in circles.

Thus, she was chastisedn by another dragon no less.

Dragons, indeed, are creatures of violence.

The pain was so intense, tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.

"Are you positive you weren't jesting?"

"No jesting here; I truly was breathing out dragon's breath earnestly just then," Lucia insisted, a pained grin crossing her face, teetering on the brink of tears. The curse oftransformation laid upon her by Evawas proving dreadfully unreliable; ifonly she could harness even the mostbasic dragon abilities.

Dragon Breath, the most rudimentary skill of the Dragon Clan, was something even a fledgling could execute with a mere exhale of purple flames.

Lucia, however, could only muster a feeble line of violet fire in her confrontation with the formidable dark dragon. If such a display didn't invite defeat, what would?

To the dark dragon's eyes, she likely appeared as one of those unfortunate, congenitally challenged younglings whose growth had been severely stunted.

"How have you managed to survive this long?" he asked, his tone dripping with incredulity.

"Eating voles," she replied with a defiant tilt of her head.

Indeed, she, now a supposedly disabled young dragon, had to thrived on such meager sustenance. Was there a problem with that? Apparently not.

Lance observed Lucia for a moment, his gaze lingering on her striking purple-gold eyes. He harbored a suspicion: perhaps Lucia was a hatchling born with a physical anomaly, a condition that might have led her parents to abandon her.

This was merely speculation on his part, and too delicate a matter to voice outright.

"You've reached this age without once properly using your Dragon Breath?" he probed further.

"Yes," she responded simply, a hint of resignation in her voice.

She resolved then to seek help from Perfect, the next time she encountered Eva, to cast the transformation spell she so desperately needed.

"Understood," Lance finally said, his expression softening. He no longer seemed antagonistic, but there was a peculiar look in his eye, perhaps he did see her as a defective dragon after all.

"From today, you'll drink the tonic I've prepared," he instructed, as if introducing a new decree.

"What? Why?" Lucia balked at the suggestion, confusion written across her features.

"It's a tonic designed to balance your constitution. It's harmless, rest assured."

But inwardly, Lucia protested. She wasn't ill; she didn't need any medicine.

She questioned aloud, tentatively, "Is it necessary for me to take it?"

"It is to aid your health, with no adverse effects. Trust me," he reassured her, though she remained skeptical at heart.