Well, I did say I'd get back on the bandwagon with fanfiction. I figured I'd give something to the more obscure fandoms that don't get a lot of attention.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Rage.


First Impressions:

The first sensation he registered was heat. That, and the fact that he was upside down. His feet were bound to the moving-hanging-machine that the orcs used to process the dragons. But there would be a surprise for them today. As he snapped out of the trance he had gone into, Cael's body began to glow with the Zeenium infused with his very being. The Orc manning the machine caught sight of the fact that the would-be victim was not as helpless as he would like. With a gout of fire, Cael incinerated the hated creature where he stood, wriggling his way out of the bonds that attached him to the machine over the pit. Once the chains had been broken, the freed dragon dropped into the fiery pit, using his wings to escape his fate.

That had certainly not been the last of his troubles. After getting out of the processing-fire-pit place, it had been one long trip though ranks and ranks of orcs all out for his blood. Not to mention the little voice that had been talking in his ear the whole time had somehow managed to get herself captured. After incinerating the entirety of the orcs that were trying to take her away, it seemed as though there was a lull in the amount of excitement.

Welcome, but it did make him a little antsy.

His eyes travelled over the charred, smoking skeletons of the orcs, and he couldn't help the small pulse of satisfaction at the sight.

Slaves to you? Unlikely.

But the others that hadn't been so lucky…

His thoughts were interrupted by the small flicker of light buzzing around his head. The chattering reminded him of some of the orc 'masters' he had been forced to kowtow to. Pushing past it [especially when it tried to fly up into his face], he went down past some of the skeletons before the words actually caught up with him.

"This is hopeless, you're just too big."

And you're far too small. He had meant to say, but when the little-light-being noticed that he had turned in her direction, she had immediately started talking again.

"You did hear me!"

Yes, so can the rest of the world.

"Listen, you're on a mission, correct, to free the dragon race, right? And it's a noble cause to be sure." As she was talking, she took a seat right on his nose, something Cael did not like in any way, shape, or form. Jerking his head, and knocking off the offending sprite in the process, Cael continued to listen to her chatter.

"Wait, wait, I'll get to the point! I am on a mission as well, to free the sprites that are enslaved, like dragons! I'm leading the cause."

Her? The person he had just had to save from imprisonment herself, a leader? Cael flicked her forward from her hold on one of his horns. The fact that she had gone flying forward with barely an iota of his full force cemented the assumption he had made; she was not suited for fighting, much less the leadership like the one he had taken upon himself.

Once she had righted herself in the air, she turned, a huffy look on her face.

"Okay, I didn't want to say it, but, I gave you the Zeenium. Without me, you'd be dead. So there!"

That was something Cael did not expect. Though he had initially considered her weak and worthless, it turned out that he owed her quite a bit. Funny how things worked.

"This war, this dragon war, it's about all of us. We just need a leader. We need, you."

A leader? Him? Lead what exactly? No other dragons were free, or had the considerable power that he had acquired.

…At least, not yet.

The decision was made, and Cael nodded his consent. Immediately, there was a change in the sprite's demeanor.

"Okay! Now we're talking! Let's hurry, there's little time." And with that, she took off into the air, stopping once she realized he wasn't right behind her. "Well don't just stand there, let's move it!"

Are you sure you're the leader?

Punctuating on his thought, the dragon took off into the air, sending the poor sprite swirling in the backlash.


There you go. R&R, please.