Travel complications

A brilliant blue sky stretched endlessly above him, an expansive canvas of cerulean that enveloped the world in serene tranquility.

The sun cast its warm, golden rays over the land, gently kissing the earth below, creating a vibrant tapestry of colors that danced with life.
A soft breeze rustled through the lush grass, each blade swaying gently as if in greeting, while the intoxicating scents of blooming wildflowers filled the air.

Violets, daisies, and honeysuckle blending in a fragrant symphony that stirred memories of simpler times.
In the distance, the soft murmur of a stream wound through the landscape, its gentle gurgling harmonizing with the whispers of the wind and creating a soothing melody that embraced the tranquil atmosphere.

Above, a small flock of birds glided gracefully in a V-formation, their joyful calls echoing faintly against the backdrop of stillness.
Wispy clouds floated lazily across the sky, casting fleeting shadows that played like children on the vibrant ground, momentarily dimming the brightness as they drifted by.
This tranquil tableau was the first sight that greeted Draco as he opened his eyes to the world anew, a scene that felt achingly familiar yet impossibly dreamlike.

No longer a disembodied soul drifting aimlessly through an endless void, he had been reborn.

Reborn not merely as a powerful entity, but as a dragon—a creature of myth and majesty, in a world that had once only been a figment of his imagination.
He lay in a field awash with colors more vivid than he had ever known, the vibrant green grass a stark contrast against the backdrop of the azure sky.
The sensation of the ground beneath him was astonishing, each blade tickling his skin and reminding him of the tactile joys he had once taken for granted.

Draco took a deep breath, savoring the cool, late summer air that filled his lungs, crisp and invigorating.
The warmth of the sun enveloped him like a tender embrace, a sensation he had longed for and almost forgotten during his time in the void.

A contented smile crept across his face, and he mused,
"It seems the reincarnation process went smoothly. I feared Ariel's intervention might have dire consequences, but perhaps my worries were unfounded."

Yet, even as he basked in this newfound existence, a nagging thought crept into his mind, pulling at his brow. He frowned slightly. "Why does everything feel so… normal? Just like it did on Earth?"

He had expected to awaken in a dragon's lair, surrounded by treasures and ancient artifacts, not in a serene meadow beneath a familiar sky.
Memories of his human life flashed before his eyes.
Those memories, once comforting, now felt like chains binding him to a life he had hoped to escape.

Moreover, he felt strikingly human. He had been reborn as a dragon, a being of immense power and primal instincts.
Why, then, did the grass beneath him feel so soft and welcoming, the air around him so achingly familiar, even the faint, rhythmic pounding of his heart?

"Shouldn’t I be bigger? Shouldn’t I feel my wings? And what is this headache?" Questions swirled in his mind, each more pressing than the last.
"Why am I seing teh Sky,when i shoudl be in some Duegnon.

The unease quickly escalated into a tide of panic as he scrambled to his feet, his heart racing.
He looked down, expecting to see powerful, scaled legs capable of tearing through armies, but what he saw instead made his heart stop.

Two human legs.

His gaze traveled upwards in horror, disbelief etching itself across his features.

Instead of the massive, muscular torso of a dragon, covered in scales impenetrable to any weapon,
he saw a hairless human chest—smooth, ****, and utterly alien to his expectations.

Panic surged within him as he looked at his arms—human arms, with no claws, no talons capable of shredding through steel.
They were limbs devoid of the majesty he had envisioned.

"I should be a dragon, not a human!" Draco's voice cracked with disbelief, raw emotion spilling over as he spoke.
His heart pounded furiously in his chest, each beat a reminder of the reality he had feared.

Desperately wanting to see his reflection, he scanned the surroundings and spotted a glimmering lake nearby.
Without hesitation, he sprinted toward it, propelled by a frantic urgency that surged through him.

"This can’t be real," he muttered as he ran, a mix of dread and hope surging through him. "This is some kind of fluke."

With a final burst of speed, he dove toward the lake's edge, breathless and terrified, desperation clawing at his throat.
The moment he reached the water's edge, he knelt, the coolness of the lake lapping at his hands.

“Why?” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle ripple of the water, the soft lapping sound mirroring the confusion swirling within him.
So many questions flooded his mind, each one more bewildering than the last, crashing against the shores of his thoughts like waves against a rocky cliff.
He tried to think rationally, to piece together the fragments of his shattered expectations, but clarity felt just out of reach.

“Ariel couldn’t be the cause. She was too weak for that,” he muttered, though doubt lingered at the edges of his thoughts, whispering uncertainties that gnawed at his confidence.
“Maybe the other light gods that Melanoche mentioned? But they shouldn’t know about me. And if they did, I’d already be dead.”

His heart raced as he considered the implications.
The only beings aware of his creation were the Sisters and Ariel.
Given Ariel’s decision to isolate herself, she probably hadn’t confided in anyone else.

None of these theories felt right, and each hypothesis had glaring logical flaws, leaving him with an unsettling sense of helplessness.
A sinking feeling settled in his gut; without communication with the Sisters, he had no way of confirming any of his suspicions.
He was truly alone in this vast, unfamiliar world, cut off from the only beings who might have answers to the existential puzzle of his rebirth.

Then, a memory surfaced—fragmented but unmistakable. He recalled the solemn words spoken by one of the goddesses before his reincarnation, echoing in the recesses of his mind:
“This is the first time reincarnating a light soul as a monster. We’re not sure what will happen.”

“That’s right,” Draco thought, his eyes widening with sudden realization, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place with jarring clarity.
“I’m the first with these conditions. My light soul, originally meant for a human body, was **** into a dark, draconic vessel.”
The contrast, the imbalance, the dichotomy of his existence—this must have caused this unexpected form, this peculiar fusion of human and dragon.

He touched his forehead, feeling the horns that protruded there, their presence both foreign and strangely comforting.
Running his tongue over his elongated canines, he marveled at the sensations, each one a reminder of his altered identity and the latent power coursing through him.

The shock that had consumed him began to give way to something else—curiosity.
His fingers tingled with the first stirrings of excitement, awakening a spark within him that he hadn’t anticipated.

“If this is what happened, then it means there’s potential here. Potential for growth, for transformation.”
The realization ignited a fire in his belly, filling him with a newfound determination.
He clenched his hand into a fist, feeling the unique energy thrumming just beneath his skin—not yet that of a dragon, but something unique, something new and uncharted.

“Either way,” he thought, his eyes narrowing with determination, the horizon before him stretching out like an uncharted territory waiting to be explored,
“the only path for me is to get stronger.”
He lifted his gaze to the sky, the vast blue expanse now filled with possibilities that seemed to beckon him closer, promising adventures yet to come.
“Maybe then, I’ll become a true dragon.”