Sitting on the bed in the room that he had woken up in, Atlas wore the same expression he had gone to sleep with last night. Shock. Yeah, you might think that getting a good night's rest, sleeping on everything that had happened and been discussed, and waking up refreshed would help him digest it all.
Nope. He was still just as shocked now as when he had gone to sleep. He honestly couldn't tell which part was the most shocking.
Was it the magic? He hadn't even considered the possibility until he personally witnessed Celeste levitating a wooden tray full of food over to him yesterday.
Or maybe it was his physical appearance. It did, in part, explain their willingness to take him in.
The mirror that they had mounted in the bathroom showed him a reflection very different than what he was expecting. When he first wandered past it, for a moment, his brain decided to trick him into thinking another Draconian was staring at him through an incredibly inappropriately placed window in the bathroom. If only that had been true. Nope, it was definitely him in that mirror. A powerful, well-toned physique, sharp, handsome features, dragon-like eyes, and strategically placed scales.
Yeah, he wasn't even human anymore! How does a person die, only to turn into a Dragon person instead of a... Corpse? Spirit? Whatever! Not a draconian!
Well, he'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't happy with at least some of what he saw. Especially... Ahem. He definitely did not check himself out in the mirror while doing various poses.
His shock could also be attributed to the fact that despite having the body of a Greek God who loved dragons just a little too much, he was considered a child.
As it turns out, Draconians reach the age of physical maturity at around the same rate as humans do, but they don't reach the age of mental and emotional maturity until much later. Since they have such long lifespans, usually in the order of millennia and sometimes even reaching agelessness if they grow powerful enough, their mental faculties take significantly longer to fully develop.
In other words, the Draconians who took him in, Drova and Celeste, rightly view him as a child. Not figuratively, like parents who just couldn't let go of their children. No, an actual, literal child.
And guess what a homeless, parentless child who didn't want to get discovered would do if found? Firmly attest to his own maturity and status as a fully grown adult.
Can you guess what the actual adult does when they hear this?
"Of course you are, honey. You're such a big boy! And you must have gone through a lot taking care of yourself for so long."
They humor the child to placate them while guiding them so that the actual adult can ensure the child doesn't do any of the stupid crap that children are known for doing...
So, to recap: Magic is real, he's a Draconian that could very well have been chiseled out of marble and given life by the God of Handsome Male Sculptures, and a child by the sensibilities of the Draconians; which, oh so conveniently, have the innate ability to tell the near-exact age of a fellow draconian by their 'aura', whatever the hell that means.
Oh, and the humdinger of the entire situation? If they don't claim him as their child and agree to become his guardians, he'll be taken away to some sort of child labor division of the local government to 'learn a skilled trade so that he can become a contributing member of society upon reaching the age of majority for his species'.
He's being adopted... "Why does life hate me?"
---------------------------------------
The trip to the city wasn't long, but Atlas wouldn't exactly call it short either. Thankfully, his Draconian body seemed nearly immune to the two-hour walk. On the contrary, he was practically buzzing with energy to the point that it was actually annoying him. He felt like he could run a marathon, but also like running off would only serve to further 'prove' how much of a child he was.
So, instead, he just decided to complain inside of his own head while keeping pace with Drova and Celeste.
The city itself was more impressive than he would have expected it to be, considering what little he had seen thus far. It was surrounded by a white, nearly thirty-foot-tall stone and mortar wall that was about eighteen feet thick at the base and seemed to slope inward towards its centerline at a roughly fifteen-degree angle. The wall was capped by a wooden barrier along the outer edge, with what looked to be guards patrolling the perimeter of the city from the top of the wall.
The guards paid them no more than a passing glance and a polite nod towards Drova, probably more concerned about threats than just random people traveling in and out of the city.
The inside of the city contained mostly wooden buildings, though they appeared surprisingly well-maintained and very well-crafted. They did all share extremely similar design queues, though. Something that he did not find surprising.
The buildings that were made of what appeared to be concrete of some sort were noticeably more lavish or had signs hung over their door depicting various services by way of simple imagery.
What did strike him as odd was a distinct lack of writing, pretty much everywhere. No written signs, no written labels, notices, or anything else that included the written word. How weird.
Despite his burning curiosity at this oddity, he did manage to keep it to himself. Not to mention, he also wasn't exactly thrilled about where they were going.
From what Celeste had told him, for them to register themselves as his guardian, they had to go to the local governance office, inform the clerk of their intent to become his guardians and fill out some documentation proving their ability to financially care for him.
After that, he would be required to submit himself to a magical assessment that would determine if his parents were still alive, and if so, if they existed within this city. If they did not, or were not alive, he would proceed to the next step.
That was the part that he had the most mixed feelings about. It was another magical assessment, but this time it was used to determine his current abilities and his maximum potential in the future. They would record this information, and as long as he possessed no restricted or completely illegal abilities, he would then be released into their custody after they paid a small fee for the filing of the documents and the assessments.
One part of him was excited to see what abilities he might possess. The other part of him was terrified to see what abilities he might possess. What if he had no abilities and was deemed to be an invalid? What if he had some ability that the local authorities had deemed to be illegal? Would they imprison him? Kill him?
On the other hand, what if he had some amazing ability? Maybe he could be a spellcaster of extraordinary power! Yeah, alright. That wasn't realistic. Besides, he didn't even know magic existed two days ago. Like he'd even be able to use it. It would probably require decades of study just to understand the foundational stuff about it.
Mercifully, the paperwork portion of his adoption was surprisingly quick and easy.
"Alright, son." The elf clerk spoke to Atlas. "Just place your hand on this orb and I'll check to see if your parents are around." He said in a professional, if bored, tone.
Looking at it, it was a roughly fist-sized orb of what appeared to be transparent glass, or maybe some sort of incredibly clear crystal. Floating in the center of the orb was what looked like some sort of runic script faintly pulsing in a soft, white light.
Reaching out with both curiosity and skepticism, he watched as the pulsing white script in the center of it began to glow more brightly at his touch. After a moment, the glow dimmed.
"... Is that it?" Atlas asked after a moment of silence. Looking at the clerk when he didn't respond, he realized that the clerk seemed to be focusing on something.
"No living relatives." The clerk finally said, after another several long moments. "Now, if you'll wait here, I'll retrieve the Scroll of Revealing." After which, he promptly turned around and walked off into a back room.
Atlas felt Celeste gently place a supportive hand on his shoulder, seemingly trying to reassure him that everything would be fine. The act caused Atlas to look at her with a bit of confusion until he realized that the clerk had stated that he had no living relatives.
'She must think that I'm sad about my family being dead. Not really sure how to explain that I don't actually have any family in this world without sounding like a delusional child...' He felt exhausted just thinking about a conversation like that.
It didn't take long for the clerk to return, this time with a large, parchment scroll in hand. Along the exposed edge of the scroll, intricate runic script covered every square inch of the scroll. Unlike the orb, though, none of it was glowing.
"Now, If you place your hand on this scroll, I'll activate the assessment of your abilities so you can go home with your new family." He said in the exact same, bored and professional tone he'd been using the entire time.
Atlas, at this point, hesitated, his hand floating a few inches from the parchment. He definitely wanted to know what he was capable of, but he was also a bit worried about what might happen if the results turned out to be something restricted, or illegal. He'd been in this world for less than forty-eight hours and wasn't too keen on spending it in some medieval prison cell or worse, dying again.
"Go on, Atlas. It's alright. Nothing bad will happen to you. Nobody is born with any illegal abilities and the chances of you having a restricted ability are so close to zero that it isn't even a concern." Celeste said softly to him, Drova providing a reassuring nod of agreement.
It was also true. Illegal abilities were never granted to someone by birth. They were always something that was gained through training in a field of magic that was deemed illegal. Death Magic that could kill with a simple touch, Necromancy that focused on undead viral diseases that could eradicate entire populations, and Discordant Dimensional Magic that could tear holes in the dimensional boundaries. They were all things that had to be studied and learned.
Taking in a deep breath, Atlas placed a hesitant hand on the scroll. Unlike last time, where nothing appeared to happen, the scroll lit up bright red before a blue magical line began writing words and numbers in the air before them.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
-General Information
Name: Atlas Corluth
Race: Draconian
|_Racial Composition: Human, Primordial Dragon
Age: 20 Years (Adolescent)
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 221 lbs.
-Attributes
Mana: -/-/-
Power: 92/100/-
Dexterity: 71/100/-
Fortitude: 93/100/-
Intellect: 21/100/-
Spirit: 100/100/-
Magic: 100/100/-
-Skills
Martial Arts: 20
Mana Manipulation: 3
Parallel Thought Processing: 10
Mental Resilience: 96
-Abilities
Primordial Draconic Sorcery
Primordial Dragon Transformation (Locked)
Simultaneous Casting (Locked)
Summon Combat Familiar 1 (Upgradeable)
-Traits
Primordial Draconian Physiology
Draconic Aura, Primordial (Locked)
Empathetic Link
Mana Dynamo
-Titles
Chosen Bondmate of the Primordial Dragon (Hidden, Viewable By Self Only)
Hidden Title Holder (Cannot Be Hidden)
First of the Primordial Draconians
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Atlas, Celeste, Drova, and the Clerk all stood there in silence as they read the magical text floating in the air before them. It wasn't until the sound of a quill hitting the floor echoed softly in the building that Atlas looked up from the text before him, noticing the slack-jawed, wide-eyed, and utterly shocked faces of everyone else around him that he realized that something was amiss.
"Well... Fuck me."