The Dragoness

Prologue: A Vessel of the Goddess

A long time ago in a faraway kingdom there lived a small tribe of elves. The race of man was quickly swallowing up the elven woodlands, capturing, killing or enslaving all of the elven peoples they came into contact with. Man still attacked the fair folk with a faith and zealotry neither race were old enough to even recall the driving force behind, and so this tribe was one of the last, near to the Elven Capital where the King and his last son lived, pushed back to the center of the wood with their last remaining colonies too near for comfort.

It was in this neighboring Village there lived a young maiden named Anara. Anara was as gentle a soul as any there had ever been in the elven territories. Raised like many of the working woman as a gatherer, Anara was the least likely of elves that any might expect capable of great deeds either heroic or terrible, but this young woman was different from the others in ways they did not know.

As a young girl Anara had gone much deeper into the woods than any gatherer before her, and there, hidden deep in the forgotten dark Anara found an ancient temple. They were more ruins than temple and though the trees that surrounded that place were dark and foreboding Anara was an innocent and courageous soul, she passed through a slim canyon into a bright lit paradise. Here there were the ruins of an old work. The temple itself had no roof any longer, pieces of marble littered the old structure but for a solid and perfect statue that gleamed still as though untouched.

Anara was still a young creature at the time and she was awed by the figure depicted. The white stone was that of an elven woman with glorious long hair that was interrupted at the crown of her head by two long horns that turned back behind her. She had large powerful wings that were not feathered but segmented like the Dragons of myth, wreathed in a magnificent but simple gown that draped down and covered her feet. She was beautiful to look upon and Anara realized she was looking not at a woman, but of a lost Goddess from the forgotten times… the times of magic, before the world had grown dark and mundane.

Anara hurried home to tell her tribe of her discovery, but there she was laughed at by the men of the tribe who told her that she’d fallen asleep and dreamt the whole thing! ‘Magic no longer existed’ they would say and they assured her there was nowhere in the woods she could have gone that the brave and courageous (and very very male) hunters had not dared to brave!

So Anara had gone again to her temple in the woods, determined to know that she had not imagined that beautiful place but with an awareness that it was odd nobody had ever found it before her. She was therefore both pleased and uncertain to discover her temple had not vanished, it was unchanged as though no one had ever been there, even her footprints were gone from before. Anara closed her eyes, kneeling before the statue, and spoke.

“Dear lady, the men of the tribe do not believe me that this place exists… and I do not feel like sharing it with them any longer for they ridiculed me as though I were a foolish girl… but now I know this place exists I would know… is there magic here or am I truly a fool?”

Anara opened her eyes and saw before her a sign of true magic. Her bushel was in front of her, filled to the brim with berries and vegetation from the wood. The magic of the temple had filled it all for her. She smiled wide and bowed to the statue pledging herself to the old Goddess and as she did so she felt a great peace within her and knew she had chosen wisely.

Anara returned to the tribe and spoke nothing of her discovery, for she did not want to be laughed at again and she felt in her heart that the temple was not theirs, nor was never meant for them. Years passed, and Anara stopped gathering, every day she went to her temple and every day her bushel was filled by the magic of the place. She spent her days instead in worship to the nameless Goddess.

Her routine went unbidden until a scheduled visit came by the elven lord Prince Vythan who was seeking a wife to be his queen at the expected passing of his father. The females were walked out and lined up before the prince rather than allowed to do their duties and though Anara’s thoughts were only of her desire to return to the temple, Vythan’s eyes fell upon her and he was instantly smitten. Anara was the most beautiful elven maiden he had ever set eyes upon, with bright golden brown eye, long reddish brown hair full lips and a slim agile body, but it was her keen eyed gaze that did not cow like the other women that took him and he demanded that she be made his queen.

Anara was to be taken to the Capitol the following evening and given a solitary day to say her goodbyes. Her father and friends were delighted for her, they spoke of how fortunate she was, but Anara alone among them was distraught, for how could she leave her home and, more importantly, how could she leave the temple of her Goddess? She did not want to be Vythan’s king! She wanted to be Anara, she wanted to be devoted to her beautiful winged goddess!

That night, after all her goodbyes were said, Anara ran to her temple and fell before the stone praying, “My Goddess! They mean to take me away from here, from you! I do not want to go! I do not want to be this man’s wife! I do not care if he is to be King one day! I am like cattle passed along by my father in exchange for wealth and stature!” She collapsed before the statute then and wept…

“Do not weep my girl,” whispered a silk smooth voice out to her, and to Anara’s great astonishment the statue glowed bright white with light… and then stepped down off the pedestal to kneel down before her, the great wings of the Goddess tucking themselves up against her back, “You are stronger than this and will not be cowed. Rise.”

Anara’s eyes were wide with amazement, astonished to the point of stillness, she rose only as the glowing figure took her shoulders and stood her up, “Goddess…” she whispered, “My Goddess? You… you are here?”

The animated stone wasted no time, it took Anara’s hands and lead her from the pillar where it once stood, “I am Mythala,” the Goddess spoke, “Purest Goddess of Light and Flame, aspect of might and valor, icon of feminine power and virtue, matriarch of truth.” Anara’s lips were parted in open wonder, her stillness was broken only when the statue’s fingers rose to rest upon her cheek, “I have heard your pleas, my most loyal servant.”

“M-Mythala?” Anara’s lips quivered, her heart racing in her chest. The appearance of her Goddess having driven her to something between terror and true joy, “I-I do not mean to bother you with my mortal concerns…”

“Hush,” the Goddess smiled and her marble thumb stroked Anara’s cheek, “You have asked of me only after years of selfless worship, and I shall answer. You would not be wed to this man you do not love, and I shall not let it be that my champion be parted from me.”

“Your champion my Godde…MMPH!” Anara’s question was cut short as the stone depiction of Mythala wrapped its arms around her and pulled her close, locking lips with the elven maiden. Expecting it to be cold, Anara was surprised to find the embrace surprisingly warm, inviting, and the soft lips of her Goddess were like smooth butter she swiftly melted into. Anara’s eyes fluttered and then closed, she surrendered to the bliss, her Goddess was taking her, choosing her…

You shall be my champion Anara, the Goddess’s words slipped into her mind as they made out in the temple courtyard, Go forth and make your destiny in my name. Spread my message, show might and valor in your dealings, speak only the truth, become master of light and flame, embrace yourself as a woman, strong and virtuous. Let no man or woman choose your destiny. Do these things and you shall never be bound by another’s will.

I will, Anara swore, I shall be wed only to you my Patron Mythala… On her declaration Anara felt herself slowly risen into the air, her eyes were closed or she might have seen the brilliant light that engulfed her. It filled the temple clearing illuminating the night for miles before it faded.

Once the light was gone, Anara felt her feet touch the earth on strange footwear that were not her usual sandals but she was more concerned to find her Goddess vanished, even the statue was gone, “Mythala!?” She cried.

I am here my Champion, she heard the voice within her, All of my power is now yours to command. Come forth to the pond and witness your splendor. Anara did not understand until she walked to the nearby fish pond and looked down into her reflection in the moonlight with a gasp.

Anara was gone! Through new golden eyes she saw a woman with a strong toned muscular structure accentuated with wide hips and breasts more comparable to the Human mortals than those of the slim elvan. Her elven ears now poked through the sides of a shimmering waist length mane of white hair, two long dark horns just as those of Mythala’s statue had grown out the back of her skull. She wore no gown like her goddess but a form fitting black and white body armor that shone as brightly as her hair from breast to the tip of her long heeled boots. There were gleaming silver scaled armor rising from the front of her boots and along her forearms ending in a pair of clawed weapons that fitted snugly over the fingers of arm length black gloves. She was… magnificent. In her surprise and excitement she did not realize that the bodysuit was left open from crotch to ass, only a scaled armored covering over her virgin sex that was connected to her abdomen by a circular clasp with the emblem of a dragon upon it, her round ass was left completely exposed.

“I… I am beautiful?” She murmured.

You have always been, her Goddess told her, now you are Magnificent.

Now go forth… Dragoness!

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