The challenge still stands: what fantasy creature do you want to see in the next Weekend Disaster Post?
And now a letter!
My dear Smok,
It has come to my attention that I have been freed from the icy wasteland that is the tundra of Frizid. I may also have permanently paralyzed Semithino while I was at it. First of all, let me clarify: Semithino deserved every ounce of the gigantic beating I gave him, and I will under no circumstances apologize for the deed. Unless he dies, of course. But I highly doubt that. Hurdek the Physician is taking care of him even now, and my relative shall soon recover from his injuries.
Now, I shall take up my narrative where I left off in my last letter, which, I trust, has reached you by now. As Xelle and I sat in the snowdrifts, keeping each other company in the last hours of my waning life, it came to my attention that the hail was beginning to fall much harder than usual, pounding at the overturned sled we were sheltering beneath. Xelle had gone to sleep; drakes’ immunity to cold is quite enviable, because I really wished I could fall asleep, but every time I tried, my jittering body convulsed so hard that it seemed I would split in two.
To pass the awful, horrible time, I plunged my claws into the snow and created the best snow-dragon representation of Sanitath the Immense that has ever been created. It was a true masterpiece, I tell you, but I did not know or care. Mine eyes were turned heavenward as I pounded the snow into shape, and had I been in possession of an army, I would have used it to devastating purpose of glory. This was my confidence, my peace, my semi-divine resignation to my fate. To put it in simpler terms, I felt deep, and extremely awesome, a lonely warrior wilting in the wilderness. I knew I suffered a righteous tribulation, a noble death awaited me, and as the darkness began to close in around me, swallowing up my numb frail body, I saw the dark dragon of the afterlife, descending through the whiteness of the terrible blizzard...
It was Semithino, heading down through the white elements in a battle against the winds and the sleet and the hail, plummeting on a crash-course trajectory, on a collision course with the sled.
I shriekificated in terror, I admitificate, as his draconian body crashificated into the snowbank, ploughificating through the drifts and buryificating me in a landslidification of freezificating sky-sugar-powder.
I shot up out of the snow and gasped for breath. Semithino! He was panting on the surface of the snowdrift, and clutched in his claw was his elemental pearl! I snatched it out of his grasp and with a great force of will diverted the deadly storm away from us. For the first time in hundreds of years, the sun shone through the clouds of Frizid’s sky, beaming radiance and warmth down upon my body. Success! And the making of history! I’m pretty sure, Smok, that was the first time a Western dragon had ever used an elemental pearl successfully. Ah, the powers of desperification! Jellifications!
Xelle splutterificated and climbed out of a deep trough of snow. The pink drake looked very irritatificated with Semithino’s crash landing. I, on the other hand, was more gently inclined. He had strugglificated through the whirlificating blizzard to bring me the instrument of my salvatification! The instrument of my salvatification, which I promptly returned. They say there is no honor among Westerners. I agree with that, but they never say there is no honor among Scaligars.
Semithino thankificated me and promptly explainificated how he had incapacitatificated the drakes. Then, as he explainificated his use of the elemental pearl as a homificating beacon to directificate the storm towards me and showificate him the way, I roarificated in rage! He had made the storm even stronger and driven the winds against me! I proceeded to whackificate him with several crowbards crowbars, beatificating him half to death before Xelle shoutificated at me to stopificate.
I dropped the weapons. Semithino groaned and rolled over, muttering, “You’re welcome.” I felt so bad that I overturned the sled, loaded his limp form onto it, and manually pulled it all the way to Xezophalioroxikertus’s university campus. I left him in the care of Natar the Frostbitten, Xelle, and Cousin X, and then left. I had unfinished business to settle with my wayward drake butler.
I took back Semithino’s pearl, using it as I flew to keep the storm away from me, and flew to the nearest drake cabbie pitstop. There, I found Xunt, slumped over the edge of the bar, with several triple chocolate cupcakes and three mugs of pale ale stuffed in his traitorous maw.
I will not record what happened next to Xunt, as it involved the use of thirty-six hot pokers, a giant plank of wood, and several gallons of napalm. Needless to say, I have transferred Xunt to work as a cashier at Drakemart (a two-year contract; I get half the profit of whatever he sells) and have contracted Xelle to be my new maid (a one-month trial contract, to be renewed if I like her work). And just for spite, I’m paying her double what I paid Xunt. I suspect they will have a falling-out soon.
-Your serpentine uncle,
P.S. I hear that Trubodox has taken up mentoring with you once again. Expect my next letter to have several helpful tips on how to continue your draconian lifestyle in comfort, contentment, and bliss. It will also contain some updates on how Xelle is adjusting to her new job.
Give us your predictions on what will happen with Xelle as Scaligar's new housekeeper in the comments below!