Enter: the Knight

The man was in the Hall. He stood on the dais and looked out upon all the gathered. There were Races and Kindes and Thinges. He paid them no heed, he had eyes for one Creature, one alone: the Dragon. Now, the Dragon had a secret which no one knew, not a one except for one wee creature called Maxwell. The DarkElves did not know it, the Centaurs did not know it, the Vampires did not know it, the man did not know it. If they had known it, well, things would probably be much different within the Dragon's Demesyne.

The man looked upon the scaled magnificence of the Serpent, the Wyrm, the Dragon, the one called Master. He had already given himself to this venture, this life-turning path. He heard the call to grandeur which the she-elf had spoken while he was in the infirmary, he had heard it, pondered it, accepted it, embraced it. That embrace had led him to this place, this time, this Reason.

The man lay himself down into the mold. It was cool to the touch, made of silver it was also smooth. He had been told what to expect and he expected no treachery, if the Dragon had wanted him dead he could have done it at any time just as he had with that maiden with the broken teeth. The servants covered the man with a silk cloth and then placed a cover over his entire form. From the crowd it appeared that the man was now in a coffin of silver, the lid being shut they waited with anticipation.

Another servant came carrying a great bucket. The servant was an ogre, a blacksmith by training. He began pouring a liquid into a spigot that extended from a hole on the top of the now-sealed mold. The liquid flashed and glowed reflecting the firelight of a hundred torches. When the ogre finished with the bucket he returned to its source: a kiln with melted gold! The creature scooped another bucket-full of the precious metal and poured more into the mold, more into the same cavity which was shared by the man! Again and again and again until a whisper from the Dragon was spoken as a word from an aged satyr: "Enough!"

Time passed. The crowd waited.

At the appropriate hour the lid of the mold was lifted. The crowd held its collective breath. The man within rose. He was a man no longer; he was a shining knight! His whole body was covered in gold, not a pore of flesh could be seen neither by the daywalkers nor the nightflyers. The knight was a perfect blend of bone and metal. The knight was perfect... as was the Dragon's desire.

Fred was no more. What lived now was a servant of the Dragon.

1. The Dragon smiled, his great white teeth showing like those of a shark - and all the while he thought of his secret and how one day it would not matter one tiny bit...

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