Dragons are creatures of supreme arrogance.
Most will only deign to mate among their own kind. To them, even angels and demons are considered nothing more than chaff, unworthy of even a cursory glance. It is a rarity for a dragon to take a partner of a different race, with the exception of those derided Metallic Dragons, who show an unusual friendliness toward humans. A rare few even choose human mates, leaving behind legacies such as the Dragonblood Warriors and Mages among human ranks. Of course, even when a Metallic Dragon selects a human companion, they would not settle for an ordinary one; the human must be a genius of formidable potential.
The continents teem with beings whose veins pulse with draconic blood – land drakes, wyverns, flying drakes, and other dragonkin, which are actually either thralls transformed by dragon lineage or creatures evolved after dwelling in the domains of true dragons, taking in draconic essence. They are also known as draco-beasts, the primary force spreading the dragon lineage. Otherwise, should the might of dragons ever surge unbridled, not even gods could stand against them—not to mention mortals.
Armed with memories from a previous life, Caesar found within himself a tolerance for humanity. Beings in humanoid form might also prove... acceptable. Humans, after all, are a potent race, known to rise to legendary status in other planes by their early twenties – an advantage not mirrored in other species.
Glancing at the grievously injured Aurora Hawk, Caesar felt no particular concern. Though magical creatures lack the robust constitution of dragons, their recovery is notably swifter than that of typical beasts. A mere fortnight should suffice for recuperation. Lifting the hawk with talons as strong as steel, he ascended on powerful wings to the outskirts of his domain for the bird's convalescence.
After about a week, the Aurora Hawk had largely recovered, ready to submit to the draconic rite of Bloodline Transformation. This ritual would not only imbue it with greater strength but also ensure its unwavering loyalty. Caesar expended a significant portion of his own potent blood to initiate the transformation.
Bathed in his sanguine gift, the once-proud hawk grew docile and succumbed to slumber. "A dragon-lineage Aurora Hawk..." Caesar murmured with a deep chuckle, content in having acquired a formidable thrall.
The anticipation Caesar held for the hawk was sizeable; after all, the spell of transmogrification, though merely an enchantment from the Western Arcana, was chronicled within his draconic heritage. As adolescence approached, a dragon's magical faculties neared maturity, and such spells were as instinctual as marrow-born knowledge – effortlessly wielded. Yet, most malefic wyrms rarely transformed into humans, comfortable and secure only within their scaled forms.
He alighted upon a peak within the Inferno Peaks. His mighty wings unfurling in full majesty, Caesar surveyed the territory now his own – the erstwhile dominion of the hawk – teeming with beasts and magical creatures.
Top-tier bloodlines excepted, in the wilderness, strength was often equated with size for both magical creatures and common beasts.
Feasting heartily, Caesar then dominated a clan of fire lizards. Though diminutive compared with the leader he had once felled, these creatures bore a resemblance to the dreaded terrasaurs, radiating heat from every scale. In the savage wilds, they were among the fiercest of predators.
Now the Red Dragon, having entered his adolescence, radiated an aura of dominance to which the natural inhabitants of his realm could not help but surrender.
Next were the Jackalmen. The sight of Caesar was enough to incite an immediate oath of fealty, a desire to serve under the crimson wings of nobility. To follow a dragon – a pinnacle of strength and nobility – is a dream coveted by countless races. To the Jackalmen, such fealty was the greatest of honors.
While the strength of these creatures seemed trifling to Caesar, their intelligence granted them worth, allowing him to delegate the management of his territory.
A mere score of fire lizards and over fifty Jackalmen in total – the count did not exceed one hundred. Pondering his scant retinue, Caesar shook his head. He recalled a time when a female dragon had boasted legions in the thousands, their presence a testament to draconic rulership and splendor.
Thoughts of power stirred in his heart with increased fervor. To ascend in strength was his sole aim, and he knew precisely what was required.
To sire. To sire fervently and without restraint.
Yet, he could not achieve such an endeavor alone. For the act of siring necessitated a pairing.
Yet, the Aurora Hawk was beyond consideration for now. Though nearing full transformation to a dragon-lineage thrall, mastery over the spells of transmogrification would take weeks to perfect.
"Perhaps I should raid the human kingdoms for comeliness," mused Caesar. A dragon's custom, indeed: as a Red Dragon, the mightiest of forces was his to command. Devoid of subterfuge or deceit, he need only seize with indomitable power, crushing any who dared resist.
However, for an adolescent such as himself, the idea was fraught with peril. Human realms were teeming with mid-tier sorcerers who could pose significant trouble, for they wielded diverse schools of combat, each with a cunning mind.
At fifty years, passing into young adulthood, he would pose a menace the human kingdoms dare not provoke. A young adult Red Dragon is formidable, its might on par with adult dragons of less dominant breeds. Rarely would they incense him, for their high-level casters – scarce yet powerful, rivaling grown dragons in strength – were not so ubiquitous that they could afford defiance.
Dragons are revered for their innate power as much as feared for their vindictive natures. Should one fail to kill a dragon, it would only grow stronger, and a high-level caster, though mighty, is not eternal. In time, the dragon would bare its fangs.
Once, a female Red Dragon, who exacted tribute from human nations, faced no opposition save for the diplomatic intervention of a Silver Dragon, summoned to mediate the conflict.
It was then that Cyrion, chieftain of the Jackalmen, approached with respectful obeisance, proclaiming, "Mighty Caesar, may your luminance shine across the continent, for your grandeur is the chorus of the heavens and the earth..."
The words pleased Caesar, whose mind was preoccupied with progenitive schemes, prompting him to command, "Speak your purpose."
"Your faithful servant, Cyrion, heeds your bidding," came the reverent reply, with the fervor of a true believer.
After a thoughtful pause, the chieftain cautiously intoned, "Some of our kin have spotted humans."
Humans? Caesar's interest was piqued.
"Where?" he demanded.
"After considering the matter," Cyrion replied, "they are to the south, about a dozen leagues from your domain, within sighting distance of those who seek our tribe."
With such information, the seed of a plan began to take root in Caesar's mind, for a dragon's will is not easily swayed and opportunity, once presented, is seldom overlooked.