Unexpected Developments by Oridian

Unexpected Developments

Story by Oridian on SoFurryOctober 2019~79 min read

Oridian, Action, Adult, Adventure, Aroused, Bareback, Breeding, Character Development, City, College, Cowgirl, Creampie, Cum, Cumming, Cumshot, Dragon, Dragoness, Drake, Ejaculation, Erection, Fantasy, Female, Feral, Flight, Groping, Heat, Heterosexual, Human, Impregnation, Interspecies, Kissing, Library, M/F, Magic, Male, Male/Female, Mating, Non-Anthro, Office, Orgasm, Plot Development, Pregnancy, Pregnant, Quadruped, Relationships, School, Sex, Shapeshifting, Straight, Teasing, Transformation, University, Vaginal, Wings, Winter

Mason the sorcerer gets an unexpected guest and a new adventure begins, one which will test his skills like nothing else before.

This story is a semi-sequel to The Best-laid Plans of Dragons and Men, which was the first story I ever uploaded. You don't need to have read that story to understand this one, although you might as well read that first because it's a good story.

(15,632 words)

Mason Tolovius, master magician, lowered his notebook and looked over each of the three senior apprentices seated at the circular table in front of him. Each of the three had a different reaction—Alex looked away as if trying to avoid attention, while Samuel and Jane met his gaze with more confidence. Yet the willingness to make eye contact said nothing about how competent a learner really was, and the only way to know that was by debate, discussion, and assessment.

“I've read your thesis drafts. All good starts, but more work is needed. As you all should be aware if you've done your preparation for today, your theses are all on closely related topics, which is why we are having this group discussion." Mason pointed towards one of the apprentices. “Samuel! In your thesis, you proposed that elementalization is an inherent property of magic itself, not a limitation in a magician's abilities?"

The apprentice in question nodded. “Yes, sir! My thesis presents an elementalization framework based on the studies done by Lord Hammerton involving his experimentation with demonic summoning, as first inspired by older writings by Jularis the Magnificent."

“Very good. Just as you wrote in the summary." Mason gestured to another apprentice. “Jane, provide a possible counterargument."

Jane hurriedly flipped through her own notes. “I… It's… Certain experiments following up from the Hammerton Trials have called his results into question. My thesis follows the work of Kimor Azaris in proposing potential explanations involving biological limitations of magicians."

Samuel responded quickly. “Kimor Azaris? Those experiments do show a strong inherent limitation in a magician's versatility, but that doesn't necessarily address the root idea about elementalism. Fundamentally, the concept could be interpreted…"

As the students started to discuss their theses, Mason played his part as teacher. He started bouncing their ideas around, making them alternate between questioning each other's proposals and defending their own against criticism. However once the students had gotten their debate properly started, they kept going without Mason needing to prompt them much.

Mason smiled faintly to himself. This particular topic was easily one of the most abstract and difficult amongst all the various thesis topics which senior apprentices were allowed to select from, yet these three had chosen to challenge themselves. Magic was rare enough amongst the general population that anyone who showed talent would be trained, yet those who truly aimed for mastery would find the process competitive and trying. Many years back, Mason himself had been a senior apprentice just like these three seated at the table in front of him. And now he was back at the Royal Academy of Magic, not as a student but as a master magician and mentor. A teaching role had never appealed to him while he was younger, but now it felt like something he exceled at.

Finally there was one particular idea which made Mason cut into the apprentices' discussion. “Hold on a moment. What was that you said?"

Jane paused, unsure if it was good or bad that one of her comments had attracted Mason's scrutiny. “Professor? I was just saying that the older writings by Jularis the Magnificent might not be considered reliable. The author isn't exactly accredited with the guild, is she?"

“The Magician's Guild does not officially recognize the achievements of a vast pool of learned minds, purely because they are dwarfs, elves, mer, centaurian, or indeed, anything other than human. And yet we find reference to the advancements of the other sapient species in so much of what we must study." Mason kept his face neutral as he spoke. Officially he was only supposed to be teaching the guild's beliefs, but here his personal ideals threatened to intrude. “Jularis the Magnificent was a brilliant thinker, and her being a dragon should not distract us from considering her ideas purely on their own merit."

Samuel nodded happily. “Thank you, professor! I was just thinking exactly that as I was writing my thesis."

“But don't give too much credit to her writings as inspiration for your thesis. The Board of Arcane Academics will like your work much more if you only mention Lord Hammerton," Mason added. Though his face remained calm, inwardly he felt a tinge of frustration at the general state of the world.

It was the most basic of concepts—people liked to visualize the world as being divided into groups, and they much preferred people who they saw as belonging to the same group as themselves. It wasn't even a purely human weakness. Mason had visited dwarfs in their desert fortresses, centaurs in their jungle cities, and dragons in their mountainous eyries, and always this same belief prevailed—that one's own species was fundamentally superior to all others—which made cooperation and communal advancement that much slower for all.

As the students continued their lively debate, there was suddenly a knock on the room door. Mason and the three senior apprentices were currently in a discussion room in the Royal Academy's library, and the walls were enchanted to prevent sound from escaping. Mason raised an eyebrow as another professor peeked in through the window which opened to the corridor. “Let me see what he wants. You three carry on."

Mason stood up from the table, allowing the students to keep discussing their ideas. He left the discussion room and stepped out into the corridor. “Mason! So sorry to interrupt. I see you were helping some apprentices with their theses," said the other professor, looking apologetic.

Mason smiled warmly. “Timothy, always a pleasure to speak with you. What do you need? Do you have some more demonic contracts for me to vet?"

“Yes please, if you're not too busy. Just some routine contracts, and sorcery is your specialty." Timothy smiled widely and held up a sheaf of papers. “I already owe you a favour, so we might as well make it double. The day you ever decide that you need me to make a golem for you, you'll get the best golem this academy has ever seen."

Mason chuckled and took the offered paperwork. “I'd be glad to help you. Making golems is such tough physical work, whereas checking demonic contracts is just reading. I do enjoy the work."

“To each their own. My expertise is in building, not reading," Timothy noted. “How's your wife, by the way? I didn't see either of you the other day, when all the teaching staff went out for dinner together."

Mason made a non-committal shrug of his shoulders. He strolled over to the other side of the corridor, where large glass windows let him look out over the academy's training field. There wasn't much to see outside, as it was past sundown and snowing heavily. “Oh, Izagor left the capital last week. She's off visiting relatives and won't be back for a few weeks."

“I see. Somewhere nearby?" Timothy asked.

“No, not so close. In the…" Mason paused as he thought about how to explain it. “Her family lives in the distant reaches. I doubt you'll have heard of the name of the place. It's very far south-east, quite remote, and outside of the empire, actually. I suppose it's fairly obvious based on her complexion and mannerisms that Izagor wasn't born a Marlander citizen like us."

Timothy frowned slightly. “Is it safe for her to be travelling alone? I know the train lines are usually well protected, but recently there's been all this news about bandits or those… those Akostan rebel groups causing unrest."

Mason knew that he should have kept a straight face, but couldn't help but chuckle. “Hah. I would pity any bandits who tried to rob my wife."

“Ah, yes. She's a magician too, of course."

“Indeed. Izagor isn't technically guild-accredited as a mage, but she's certainly competent in her own way. I did offer to go with her to visit her family, but my students need my help too, and Izagor was certain of her ability to take care of herself," Mason said.

Timothy nodded understandingly. “There's always a balance to be made. Work is important, but so are friends and family." He clapped Mason's shoulder in a friendly manner. At just past three decades of age, Mason was one of the younger professors at the Royal Academy of Magic, whereas Timothy was much older and almost double his age, but the two had quickly become good friends. “Well, here's hoping she has an uneventful journey! When she gets back, you two really must come over for dinner. Perhaps mid-next week?"

“I'd be glad to accept your hospitality."

“Fantastic. Now one last thing—I saw your recommendations for journeyman postings, but I've heard from the arch wizard that guild quotas are being changed…"

As the conversation moved on to another topic, Mason's mind still lingered on thoughts of his wife. She had only been gone for a few days, yet already he missed talking and spending time with her. Throughout any normal day at the academy, Mason would have been subconsciously gathering a list of interesting topics or new developments to tell Izagor when he got home and saw her again, just as she would be eager to tell him about what had happened with her day. Now she was gone, and loneliness felt worse than even in the times years ago before they'd met. This wasn't something Mason had been worried about when they'd been discussing Izagor's plans to visit her relatives, but now he was coming to really feel her absence. Izagor's presence had completed him in a way which he hadn't fully comprehended.

Suddenly a loud, repeated ringing of a bell snapped Mason's attention back to the present. “Bong, bong, bong!" At first Mason thought it was just the academy's bell tower sounding off another hour passed, but then multiple bells started to sound in unison, forming an overlapping cacophony. “Bong! Ding! Cling! Dong-ding!"

The bells were designed to be heard throughout the academy, and they were clearly audible despite the bell tower being above an entirely different building. Even the heavy snowfall did not supress that loud sound, nor did the quieting enchantments in the library's walls.

Mason's fellow professor, Timothy, paused mid-sentence. “What? That's the general alarm! Don't tell me some student let a demon out of a summoning circle again," he muttered.

“I've reviewed the demonic contracts for all authorized research projects—there shouldn't be any active summoning right now, unless someone's been doing unauthorized work behind my back. Could the alarm be for a fire? I heard that Professor Daltez was testing a new batch of alchemical agents today, preparing for the upcoming term," Mason suggested.

“No, no. I spoke to Daltez's assistant just after lunch, and she said that their experiments were finished in the morning. Even if they had other tests, I don't think they would continue working up till now. It's well past sundown already," Timothy replied.

The Royal Academy of Magic was a place of great power where magicians of all levels of experience came to study and research, and that came with the opportunity for many things to go wrong. Over the past year Mason had heard the general alarm sounded for a variety of reasons including miscast fireballs setting the training field on fire, broken summoning circles with rogue demons (thrice, in separate events), and even a very agitated sphinx getting loose from its cage in the zoology department.

However, the timing of the alarm was unusual. Normally any sort of incident would occur during the daylight hours, when the academy was bustling with activity. Instead, it was now past sundown and most classes and research work ought to have stopped. Students and staff alike would mostly have returned to their accommodation, be that in the academy's hostel or residences in the nearby city.

The three senior apprentices stepped out of the discussion room, their debate now ended by the alarm. “Sir? What's going on?" asked Alex.

Mason glanced over the apprentices—they were all merely a decade younger than him and barely past the threshold for adulthood, yet now they looked to him as if he had all the answers. “I don't know. Some sort of incident, I imagine."

“Don't you worry. Probably just a false alarm," Timothy said. Turning around sharply, he briskly walked down the corridor. “Come, Mason! To the operations room. You three apprentices, make yourselves scarce."

“We'll have to continue our discussion on your theses some other day." Mason hurriedly re-entered the discussion room and swept all his notes into his satchel bag, which he grabbed along with his winter coat. Just before following after Timothy, he also paused to address the apprentices. “Pack up your notes quickly and head back to the hostel. If you see anything that looks like a fire, an escaped monster, or an open portal to the otherworldly plane, then stay well away and alert a staff member!"

This had a mixed response—Alex and Jane nodded, but Samuel was holding his staff and had an excited glint in his eyes. “But sir, what if you need our help? If there's a demon loose, we could help you fight it!"

“Absolutely not. Get back to the hostel and don't go looking for trouble." Mason ran hurriedly after Timothy, catching up to his fellow master magician after a brief sprint.

“You shouldn't have mentioned demons or monsters to the students. That just makes them want to get involved in the excitement—typical adolescent heroics," Timothy told him as they continued walking. “But it is probably a false alarm. Nothing for us or them to get all excited about."

“Let's hope so," Mason agreed. He started pulling on his coat as they walked. Coats, cloaks, and the more classic robes were the standard attire of most magicians, usually emblazoned with the symbol of the Magician's guild on the shoulder, chest, or back. But at this time of year, anyone, magician or not, would be wearing a coat if they planned to go outside in the cold.

The library was mostly deserted as they moved through the building. Beyond it just being past sundown, it was the middle of winter and between term sessions. Most of the young apprentices weren't even in the academy at the moment, except for the senior apprentices working on their final projects and theses.

When Mason and Timothy exited the library's front doors, they were greeted by the sight of a stream of bright magic shooting up from the academy's bell tower. Like a continual lightning bolt which rose from the ground, the magic climbed upwards and then spread out in all directions, smearing into a shimmering, translucent dome which encompassed the dozen buildings making up the Royal Academy of Magic.

“They've raised the shields!" Mason noted. He could see his own breath clouding as he exhaled in the winter air, and he pulled his coat tighter around himself. A heavy layer of snow covered everything nearby, dampening all sound except for that cacophonous ring of the alarm bells. Finally the alarm bells finally fell silent, leaving behind a deafening silence.

“I think this is just the standard procedure now, to raise the shields whenever the alarms sound. We had some policy changes ever since that sphinx broke out and went to terrorize the city. The local governor was quite upset." Timothy's voice was controlled, though he no longer looked as calm. The older professor had his hand in the pocket of his coat, holding onto his wand even if he hadn't drawn it out yet. “It could still be a false alarm," he added.

“Could be," Mason agreed.

Stepping down the library's front stairs, the ground was covered with a thick layer of snow turning everything white, but the heavy snowfall had been abruptly halted. The academy's shields were a simple but effective security measure—once the spells had been triggered they would prevent anything except light from passing in or out, thus containing any monster, demonic entity, or other possible threat from escaping out of the academy and into the wild, or worse, towards the nearby city.

But in isolating the academy, the shields had also blocked off the weather, cutting off the wind and leaving the chilly night air feeling totally still. The Royal Academy of Magic was eerily quiet as the two professors walked from building to building, crossing the short distance to the bell tower. Mason could hear the snow crunching beneath their boots as they walked down the road.

Located near the centre of the Royal Academy of Magic, the bell tower rose up from a large rectangular building—the administrative hall. Just like all the other buildings making up the academy, enchanted lanterns were used to illuminate both the inside and outside of the building. If not for these lanterns, it would have been difficult to see anything at all, for there was no starlight or moonlight tonight. Mason could see snow building up outside, forming layers against the magical shields which would occasionally slide off but would never pass through.

Climbing down a flight of stairs to the administrative hall's basement, they reached the academy's operations room. The room was busy but not packed, and Mason saw about a dozen other staff members. Most of them were cleaners or technicians, and the few who appeared to be actual magicians looked mostly to be just research assistants who had been monitoring overnight projects.

Marking the centre of the operations room was an immense bipyramidal crystal about twice as tall as a person. This glowing, cyan-coloured crystal floated in the air, suspended by metal chains which shined brightly even in the indoor lighting. Crystals like this were located in every academy building, serving as anchor points for the tracking spells which monitored magic throughout the campus.

Standing by the side of this crystal was a golem. Tall, blocky, and made entirely of whitish stone, the golem was covered in glowing etched lines which might have looked like aesthetic decoration to an uneducated observer, but which any magician could instantly tell were magical runes. The power trapped in these runes was what kept the golem animated, and the extreme complexity in the runes was what imbued this golem with the moderate level of intelligence needed to work in the operations room.

As head of the academy's Department of Animated Construction, Timothy was the master magician who had built many similar golems which roamed the academy as security or brute force labour. He immediately began addressing the golem. “Golem, what's going on? Report."

The golem had no mouth, but it spoke with a voice that was almost identical to its creator. At other times Mason would find it amusing that it sounded like Timothy was talking to himself, but the situation now was more serious. “General alarm. Security incident detected. Shield protocol enacted."

“Well I can see that! Golem, elaborate on the root cause of this security incident," Timothy continued.

The golem replied in its flat, impassive voice. “Sensor array reading out of bounds. Unidentified magical source—"

“Golem, shut up," snapped a thin woman walking over from the other side of the ops room. She was wearing a magician's coat just like Mason and Timothy, and she gestured to the two professors. “Fess up! Is one of you two responsible for this?"

Mason bowed his head politely. “Arch Wizard Lanus, good evening. What exactly is going on? We were just in the library with some apprentices when the alarm bells went off."

Arch Wizard Lanus was the head of the whole academy, and her competence with magic was only rivalled by her competence with management. Sometimes Mason wondered if Lanus' frizzled hair was the result of her work with lightning magic, or if she just liked it that way. Her current expression was stonier than the golem's. “Viga lamntrin," muttered the arch wizard. With the wave of her hand, a miniature illusionary version of the whole academy appeared out of tiny air, fitting neatly on her palm.

“Germina lox academy." In a smooth motion, Lanus drew her wand from her coat and tossed it towards the centre of the room. The wand shot towards the tracking crystal with unnatural speed, weaving between furniture and staff members. It abruptly stopped just before it would have contacted the massive gemstone's facets, and a burst of magic leapt from the crystal and into the length of enchanted wood. The wand then shot away again, returning towards Lanus' outstretched hand.

With an impatient gesture, the arch wizard combined the two spells together, adding a series of diagrams over the miniature model of the academy. “Just a few minutes ago, one of the building sensor crystals detected some sort of magical presence in an out-of-bounds area. On the rooftop of that building here."

Mason looked closer at the miniature. “That's… the Department of Sorcery building."

“Indeed! Mason, that's your home department. Please tell me you people haven't let a demon loose again." Lanus passed the miniature model of the academy to Mason, tossing the magical construct like a ball.

Whereas many magicians liked to use wands or staffs, Mason was a purist who used only his hands to direct his power. He clenched and unclenched his fists to shake off the winter cold, then he spun the miniature model around to examine it closely. “We shouldn't have any active projects running overnight. Hmm. Yes, it looks like there was a magical presence detected on the roof, but none of the summoning circles inside the building seem to have been breached."

“Is it possible for a demon to have broken out of a summoning circle in such a way that the alarm enchantments aren't set off? Aren't our defences supposed to be better than that?" Lanus asked.

“It's possible, yes, but very unusual. Our summoning circles are top-of-the-line. No, this isn't really what we'd expect to see if a demon escaped, especially a powerful one." Mason rotated the model and modified the spell so that only the one building was present. “Do we have any other abnormalities detected after the first one?"

“No. I've been bouncing searching spells of the shields, but there's no sign of anything out of the ordinary. The sensors on all the other buildings also report nothing. If there's a demon or monster that got loose from inside the sorcery department, it must have come to the roof, then fled back inside after tripping the spells."

Mason was quiet for a moment as he pondered the possibilities. “Looking at the data we have, I'd say the most likely explanation is a false alarm. Maybe snow buildup from the blizzard is messing up one of the boundary sensors."

“Are you sure? And what if reality doesn't follow the 'most likely explanation'? What if there really is a powerful demon roaming around inside the Department of Sorcery?" Lanus countered.

Mason closed his fist, dispelling the magical model of the academy. “Then we go in and search the place. I'm a sorcerer, and this is sorcery. If a demon has really broken out, it's my job to handle the banishment."

Lanus clapped her hands, applauding in the especially encouraging way she usually reserved for young magicians first learning to use their power. “Splendid suggestion! I was about to order you two to do exactly that, but it's much better when you volunteer."

“Wait, me too? I'm not a sorcerer. Neither demon summoning nor banishing is my field," Timothy said, sounding reluctant.

“You're still a master magician. You can handle it." Moving to the side of the room, Lanus picked up a short sword out of a collection of weapons laid out on a table. “Do you both have telanium-silver on you?" She unsheathed the sword to check its blade, then attached it to her belt.

Mason nodded. As any magician knew, telanium-silver was a special alloy with a variety of uses related to magic—most notably, contact with the metal would instantly banish demonic entities, sending them back to the otherworld plane from which they originated from. And as one of the academy's master sorcerers, Mason had many a dramatic experience with junior sorcerers not quite making their summoning circles up to specification. Reaching into his satchel bag, Mason drew out a telescopic baton made from telanium-silver and flicked it open.

Timothy took out his own wand, which was a different design from Lanus' and was made of telanium-silver alloy instead of enchanted wood. “Is that… Is this dangerous? This is just a false alarm, right? There isn't really a powerful demon in there, right?"

Mason made a few waves with his baton, getting used to the solid weight of the weapon. “Don't worry. It's probably nothing to worry about, and there's probably nothing unusual there at all," he said, and he even believed it himself.

The Department of Sorcery had stone golems surrounding every entrance, barricading the building with their blocky bodies. Besides the academy's security force, Mason also found the three students he'd been having a discussion with earlier. “I told you three to return to the hostel!"

“Yes sir, but you also told us to report if we found anything abnormal, and all the security golems are clustering here!" replied Samuel, gesturing to the building with his staff.

“Students of yours?" Lanus asked.

“Senior apprentices who were working on their theses," Mason explained.

“I see. You three wait outside while we search the building." Lanus said to the students. She then turned to speak with one of the other staff members who had followed them over. “If we're not back out here in half an hour, contact the Magician's Guild and have them dispatch a response team."

Lanus strode forward into the Department of Sorcery, and golems, staff, and students alike stepped aside to let the arch wizard pass. Mason followed after her, along with a rather more hesitant Timothy, whose gaze lingered on the golems as if wishing that his creations could accompany them in. “Why don't we just send in the golems instead of risking our own skins?" he suggested.

“Because golems can be commandeered. If there is an escaped demon, we are not running the chance that it can acquire a few golem minions," Arch Wizard Lanus replied.

“What? No… Golems are hard to reprogram, even for master magicians and especially for some demon! They have lots of security layers written into their runes," Timothy said, but he didn't press the matter further.

Mason tried to reassure his colleague. “It's probably a false alarm. There's probably nothing at all here."

“I will believe that when we've finished searching this building. Let's check the summoning circles first," Lanus ordered.

The Department of Sorcery building was one of the oldest buildings in the Royal Academy of Magic, and it's architecture lacked some of the flair which came with more modern designs—tall, pointy wizard's towers were in fashion, but this building was just a large, pragmatic, two-storied brick cuboid covered in white and black paint tones.

Entering the building, Mason turned aside and spun a series of wall mounted knobs which would control the internal lighting. Small enclosed oil lamps hung from the ceiling, all fuelled by a central pipeline. By turning the knobs, Mason increased the flow of oil until the lamps were casting a steady illumination to light up the corridors. He kicked some snow off his boots, though he kept his winter coat on. This lighting system could also provide heat, but the air was still very chilly because unlike the library and the bell tower, this building hadn't been occupied so late at night.

The corridors were easily familiar to him. Mason was one of the few master sorcerers working in the academy, and this was the Department of Sorcery after all. During term time, he would spend many hours every day teaching and training students in these very classrooms. Leading the way forwards, he began the search.

Opening the first classroom, Mason looked around and raised his hand. Tendrils of magical power flowed down his arm and into his palm as he murmured a spell. “Germina lox!" Light flashed from his hand, along with an invisible pulse of magic. The searching spell bounced around the walls of the darkened classroom, but there was nothing to be found. “Nothing here."

As they moved through the first level, each of the three master magicians would cast a searching spell to check every room they passed by. One by one they checked all the classrooms, but each held nothing but chairs, tables, document cabinets, and other uninteresting furniture.

It was a different matter when they reached the summoning circle rooms. There were twelve separate rooms containing plenty of open space, and right in the middle of each room was a large summoning circle for magicians to use for sorcery.

Each summoning circle resembled a series of concentric rings on the ground, with each ring containing dozens of intricate runes to store and focus magical energy. These were the cornerstones of sorcery, through which demons could be summoned—be that by students summoning basic entities to learn the craft, or by more experienced sorcerers working on projects which required more powerful demons bound with contracts.

A searching spell would be pointless because of how much magical power was already contained in the summoning circles. Out of the twelve summoning circles, nine were inactive and dark, whereas the remaining three were powered up and had defensive enchantments active.

Mason grabbed a clipboard which hung from the wall and flipped through the documentation for the summoning circles. Then he began meticulously inspecting each individual circle, looking for any damage or defect in the circular, runic enchantments. First he inspected the inactive circles, but they were cold and quiet as expected. If something had escaped from the otherworldly plane, it would have been through the active circles instead.

Each of the active circles was protected by an opaque dome of magic rising up from the runes on the ground, resembling swirling dark clouds of smoke which formed a flat barrier. These were a clear indication of the security enchantments which prevented anything unwanted from escaping the otherworldly plane—they were rather similar to those shielding enchantments which had now put the whole academy on lockdown, albeit at a different scale entirely.

Mason placed his hand on the dome of the first active circle and murmured a spell to turn the dome clear, but this merely revealed that the summoning circle was empty. “Venatare. No, it's empty."

The second active circle was also empty when he checked it. However, Mason felt a distinct tingle when he touched the last circle—there was something inside, even if he couldn't yet see into the summoning circle—and that made him hesitate.

Timothy was right behind him, holding onto his wand with a tight grip. “What's wrong? Is… is something wrong?" asked the older professor.

Mason shrugged casually. “There's something in here. Venatare!"

The black swirling smoke which represented the summoning circle's security enchantments faded away and the circle instantly lost its opacity, revealing a small, twisted creature inside.

“Ahh!" Timothy exclaimed, jumping backwards in surprise.

Unlike his colleague, Mason was undisturbed. He peered closer at the circle, looking in at the demonic entity—it resembled a ball of wriggling tentacles which squirmed and trembled unnaturally, moving quickly around the inner limits of the summoning circle. “It's just an imp. Harmless."

“I know, I know. I was just startled. This whole situation is giving me the creeps," Timothy replied.

Mason stared at the imp, knowing that the summoning circle's security enchantments were still effective even if they'd gone invisible. Imps were the most common sort of demonic entity, and they were harmless except in extreme numbers. They could be considered the rats of the otherworld plane, and were generally used either as practice summoning by junior apprentices, or as a minor source of demonic magic for experiments. Whichever the case had been, there was nothing unusual about finding an imp in a summoning circle.

Crouching down, Mason placed his palm on the edge of the summoning circle. “Exaliant mosi nox," he murmured, and the circle's runes all glowed as he charged it with a small burst of magical power. The imp vanished in a flash of light, banished from the summoning circle at Mason's command. The circle went dark again as Mason stood up. “No. Nothing here. All summoning circles are intact and undamaged."

Lanus was one step behind him, double-checking every circle with her own magic. She swung the short sword she was holding, and the blade was forcefully repelled by the summoning circle's boundary spells. “So no escaped demons then," concluded the arch wizard.

Timothy visibly relaxed on hearing this statement. “Oh, marvellous! Marvellous. What a relief. There's nothing to be worried about, then. It was just a false alarm." He broke into a relieved smile, but the other two master magicians remained more stoic.

“Not until we've checked the whole building," Lanus said.

“Let's check the upper level then," Mason said. He led them towards the stairwell, though he increasingly suspected that it was definitely a false alarm after all.

Whereas the first level had held classrooms and summoning circles, the second level of the building was filled by more classrooms as well as staff offices. There was a large open area filled by cubicle desks, with individual private offices running down the sides.

“Germina lox." Raising his hand, Mason threw a searching spell across all the cubicles. Echoes of magical power bounced back to him from numerous things—spell tomes, minor enchanted objects, even the miniscule tinge of living energy from a potted plant, but there was nothing more than that. Certainly not the much larger trace of magic associated with a demon or another magician. “Nothing," he declared.

“Spread out. Check all the offices. Open the locks if you have to," Lanus ordered.

Mason went to the far end of the open area, taking the offices on the opposing side while his two fellow master magicians worked on the closer offices. In succession, Mason opened each office door and used a searching spell on each room. When he came across a door which was locked, it took him about half a minute of using a breaching spell to pick the lock. The locks were simple mechanical devices easily bypassed by magic, but many also had security enchantments which would detect his forced entry and send an alert to the academy's operations room. But the staff there would know that they were checking the building already, of course, and know not to be concerned.

Already Mason knew what he would find—nothing. Summoning circles were how sorcerers interacted with the otherworldly plane, and the department's summoning circles being undamaged meant that there was no escaped demon. Even if somehow a demonic entity or some monstrous beast had genuinely been detected by that alert earlier, it wouldn't have picked a lock to hide itself in an office. Demons were otherworldly creatures—if they escaped, they would not steal or hide away, but go on deadly, destructive rampages. Nevertheless it paid to be sure, so he continued checking, as did the other two magicians.

Halfway through checking the offices, there came a door which was a bit more rigorously locked than the others. Instead of using that same lock-picking spell as before, Mason switched his baton from one hand to the other, and then he reached into his coat and took out a key. This wasn't just any office, this was his office.

On opening the door, Mason was greeted by a familiar sight. Inside this darkened room, the furniture, the plaques on the walls, even the stacks of paperwork covering his desk—all of it was familiar. When not teaching classes or tutoring students, Mason spent much of his work time in this office, reviewing demonic contracts created by students or other sorcerers.

Tendrils of wispy, glowing power surrounded his arm as Mason prepared to use his searching spell once again. “Germina lox." Even as he spoke the words, Mason immediately visualized exactly what he would sense. There would be minor echoes of power from all the various magical objects he kept here—including the bookshelf filled with spell tomes, a small amulet in his drawer, and the half dozen enchanted crystals he kept in a safe under his desk.

Instead his searching spell gave a very different response. His office was faintly lit only by light from the corridor, but somewhere in that darkness was a clear source of active magic which reflected back his spell. As echoes continued bouncing back, Mason deduced the location of this magic to be something approximately human-sized, hiding behind his paperwork-covered desk.

Mason remained motionless for a few seconds as he pondered this unexpected development. Then he used his foot to push the office door shut, making sure he was quiet enough that he wouldn't alert the two other master magicians searching outside. With his baton held ready and magic still wreathing his fingers, Mason reached over to the room's light controls and spun the knob mounted in the wall. Initially the ceiling lights had been incredibly dim, with tiny pilot flames barely visible inside the oil lamps, but they flared to life as Mason spun the control knob and increased the oil flow.

This new illumination revealed an odd sight. Sitting behind Mason's desk was a dragon, with scales of reddish-brown similar in colour to the oak which made up the desk. The dragon had been resting her head on the table, though she jerked upright and squinted as the lights brightened.

Dragon and sorcerer stared at each other, and for a movement neither spoke. The dragon was the one who finally broke the silence. “Hi. So… I've got some explaining to do."

Mason let the magic dissipate from his hand, then he collapsed his baton and slipped it back into his satchel bag. “Mm. I suppose you do," he said to Izagor, his wife.

Izagor shivered slightly as she stood up on all fours. Though she could breathe fire, that had been no help against the winter blizzard she'd just flown through.

But when Mason had come through the door, dressed in the elegant coat of a magician and with magical power at his very fingertips, that sight of him had warmed her soul and her body in a way which nothing else had over the past week or so. Her crest fin perked up, and she shuddered in a way which had nothing to do with the cold.

“What are you doing back here? Shouldn't you be halfway across the empire by now?" Mason asked.

Before Mason could say anything else, Izagor bounded over the desk and charged him. A dragon was proportioned very differently than a human—quadrupedal not bipedal, longer yet skinnier too, with wings and tail and more—but overall not too different in size. Izagor pressed her head against Mason's chest, delighting in his very presence. She'd missed his voice, his calm words, his intelligence, the touch of his hands, and just everything about him.

“Mason… mmrrr…" A deep, rumbling sound of pleasure found its way out of her chest, sounding rather like a deeper version of a cat's purr. Sweeping a wing open, Izagor tried to hug Mason. Though she sat back on her haunches, this was still a bit of an awkward motion, but she hardly cared.

Izagor could feel Mason's hands against her scales as he returned her hug. He made a confused, slightly amused noise. “Hah. Ok! Yes, Izzy, I missed you too. But could you please explain what you're doing in my office? What happened to visiting your family?" Mason pulled away slightly, and he gestured over her body. “And why are you like that?"

Shuffling her wings on her back, Izagor grinned. She straightened her forelegs and curled her neck into an elegant S. “Oh, you don't like me when I look like this?"

“You know I do, but that isn't the concern here." Mason walked over and pulled his satchel bag off his shoulder, dropping it into his office chair. “I've told you before—you have to enter the academy on foot, and as a human. We have sensors, and you set off the magical detectors on the roof by flying here! The arch wizard thought there was an escaped demon or something when the alarms went off."

Izagor nodded her head, and her crest fin drooped apologetically. “Sorry. I wouldn't have flown in if I had a choice, but… there's a problem."

“What? Did you run out of transformation crystals?" Mason bent down behind his desk. With quick, well-practiced movements he spun the tumbler of the safe until the door swung open. Then from within the safe he took out a large white crystal about the size of his palm, wrapped in a layer of cloth. “Here."

“No!" Izagor recoiled slightly as Mason extended the crystal to her. “I can't. Or I shouldn't."

“Why not?" Mason asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“It's… complicated. Very complicated." The small white crystal felt like it was drawing in Izagor's gaze, but she kept her eyes locked on Mason. That crystal was a special artefact created by a demon under one of Mason's sorcery contracts, and it was capable of performing a truly remarkable feat. Contained within that gemstone's facets was a huge dose of magical power, constrained into an impossibly complex spell which could transform a person's very form—from dragon to human, or human to dragon.

For so many years the two of them had been together—journeying through the human realms, or exploring the world by wing—getting to know each other as friends, lovers, and more. Though it had been unusual at first, Izagor now felt like she knew her human form just as well as she knew her natural form. But now she was scared to do that transformation she had done so many times before. “We… we really need to talk. There's a problem."

Mason nodded, accepting this without question. “How urgent is this? Lanus and Timothy are searching the other offices and I need to lead them away. I'm not sure how they'll react if they discover you're actually a dragon. It probably won't end well."

“The problem isn't urgent. Actually it is urgent, but not that urgent. Sorry for causing trouble with the alarm," Izagor replied.

“Ok, don't worry. Stay here and keep quiet. I'll be back after I've persuaded them that it was just a false alarm." Mason held Izagor's chin with his hand, and she tilted her head to lean into his touch. She knew how Mason thought—his mind worked in a logical, goal orientated manner, and he always seemed able to come up with a plan for any problem or situation.

With one final glance at her, Mason turned to leave. Without a further word he shut off the lights, unlocked the door, and then he left—going to navigate the infinitely complex world of human interaction and society. What a wonderful world it was, but neither dragon clans nor human societies trusted each other, and so their races almost always stayed apart.

Izagor padded quietly over to the door and pressed her ear against the wood to listen. Outside, she could hear Mason speaking with his colleagues.

Given Mason's job as a master sorcery and teacher, he and Izagor lived in an apartment over in the academy's hostel which was slightly larger than the rooms used by apprentices. Through the course of living here over the past few years, Izagor had even gotten to meet a few of Mason's students or fellow master magicians. Of course, these people didn't know she was a dragon. They just knew her as Mason's socially inept wife—a personality trait which they would unfailingly attribute to her being a foreigner (because her features were just ever so slightly different from theirs). Izagor never ceased to find it amusing how humans never suspected she was actually a dragon, no matter how many social gaffes she made. Even master magicians never seemed to consider the limits of magical power, and how it could literally transform someone.

“Ah, there you are!" came a woman's voice, which Izagor guessed belonged to the arch wizard. Izagor had previously met Arch Wizard Lanus, and she rather liked the woman. Despite being human, Mason's boss exhibited an immense level of competence, along with an arrogant, total self-confidence which Izagor more commonly associated with elder dragons (and certain cats). “Did you find something in there?"

“No. This is my office and I just got a bit side-tracked. Did you two find anything?" Mason said, his voice sounding muffled through the door.

“Nothing. Though we still have a few more offices to search."

“Very well. I'll check the roof too, but it does look like a false alarm."

Izagor felt her crest fin perking up in amusement. It had taken her so long to begin to understand the countless subtleties of human communication, and even after a decade spent frolicking through the human realms, she was always learning new nuances about etiquette or behaviour. But Mason was the one human she could really understand, and she could hear the slight discomfort in his vocal tone—it was subtle, but Izagor could tell that Mason was worried about her presence here. He didn't understand why she had cancelled her trip south to visit her family, and he didn't understand why she had come back to the academy in her natural form instead of transforming to human. But he waited patiently and without demand, knowing that she would explain when the time came.

Moving away from the door, Izagor trotted over to go sit behind Mason's desk again. She sniffed longingly at his satchel, catching that faint scent of her lover, and then settled down to wait for his return.

“Bong!" Around a quarter of an hour later, a single chime emanated from the academy's bell tower. Pushing herself upright, Izagor turned to stare out the window. Mason's office window was facing the centre of the Royal Academy of Magic, so the bell tower was just in view. As Izagor watched, those arcing bolts of magic which had been shooting from the top of the bell tower dissipated into darkness, as the academy's defensive shields shut down.

A thick flurry of snow abruptly dropped from where the shields had been holding it up in a layer, blanketing down all across the academy grounds. The window shuddered from the gust of wind created by this sudden motion, and Izagor leaned her head away from the glass. When she looked again, the blizzard had resumed and innumerable snowflakes were spiralling down from the sky above.

Right about at that moment, the office door clicked unlocked and Mason entered. “Everything is settled," he announced, after closing the door behind him. “We finished up our search of the building and found nothing, so the arch wizard agreed that it was just a false alarm. By the way, you left footprints (pawprints?) on the roof where you landed. I had to sweep those away before Timothy or Lanus noticed."

Izagor nodded her head slowly. “So they don't suspect that I'm here?"

“I don't think so." Mason pulled off his heavy winter coat and hung it on a hook behind the closed office door. “Brr, it's cold." He spun up the knob controlling the ceiling oil lamps, filling the room with more light and heat. Mason walked over to the window and drew the curtains, then he sat down in his office chair and stared at Izagor. “So… explain? Why are you back here, why are you not visiting your family, and why can't you change to human form?"

“Eehhh…" Izagor made a long, uncertain noise, and she shifted her weight between her paws. She had been anticipating this moment through the past few days as she'd been flying back, yet that did nothing to abate her nervousness. “Do you remember last week, the last thing we did together before I flew off?"

Mason nodded. “We had a nice breakfast together, then said goodbye. You flew off to go visit your family and I stayed here to keep teaching."

“No, no, I mean before that—in the morning after waking up?" Izagor said. “Because…um… Remember how I was in heat for the week before that, but then I said that my heat was over, so it was okay if we had a bit of fun together before I left? Eh… apparently I don't know my body as well as I thought I did."

It took a few seconds for Mason to process this information. When he did, his eyes went wide. “You mean that…? You and I, we… we actually…?"

Izagor's tail tip flicked from side to side. “Possibly? Not that I've ever had the experience of being gravid before, but… I think I might be gravid."

“Are you sure?" Mason asked.

“I think so. Every year my heat cycle follows a regular pattern where it gets more intense over the week before fading back to normal, but this time it was different. I thought my heat had ended that morning before I flew off—the day that we mated—but then the next day I was getting all flushed and bothered again." Izagor flapped her wings, moving the air around her. Even though the oil lamps weren't turned to their highest setting, it increasingly felt like the room was too warm as a result of her heightened body temperature. “So we might have an egg or two on the way."

Leaning back in his chair, Mason ran his fingers through his hair. A series of emotions swept across his face—surprise, joy, curiosity, anxiousness, and more. “Wow. Wow! I didn't think that was possible. I thought that since you're a dragon and I'm a human, this sort of thing shouldn't be possible."

“Why not? The transformation spell is real. You changed into a dragon and gave me a good hard pounding that day," Izagor replied, grinning slyly.

“It's more complex than that." Mason snatched up the transformation crystal from the table and gestured with it excitedly. “These crystals transform us, but they only affect the body. They can make a physical change, but there's an inner component to a person—the magic, the spirit, the soul, whatever you want to call it. I was born a human, so a part of me remains human even if I take a draconic body. The same is true with you, even when you change into a woman."

“And yet we always knew that something like this might happen, which is why we took precautions whenever I was in heat, or whenever we were both humans," Izagor countered.

“That's true. Clearly it must be possible if it's happened." Mason's voice trailed off, and he carefully put the crystal back down on the table. He slumped back into his chair again. “What are we going to do?" he asked hesitantly.

“I'd hoped you would have a plan and would tell me," Izagor replied. “But I've been thinking about this and I see several options."

“I'm listening," Mason said.

“Option one is we just go back to the way things were. There are certain herbs which supress heat and would stop an egg from developing. The academy's botany department here would probably have them, and that would mean I wouldn't need to lay an egg." Izagor couldn't meet Mason's gaze as she said this. Jumping to her feet, she began pacing around his office.

“Option two is similar. No need for any herbs or medicine, we just smash the egg after I lay it. Back when I was growing up among my clan, that sort of thing did happen, usually because females got careless while in heat. So we could just smash our egg on a rock and throw it away. We wouldn't need to build a nest and keep it warm, or eventually watch the egg hatch. And we… we wouldn't need to raise a little hatchling—a tiny version of us, flapping his wings or chasing her own tail. Scampering about and… and waking us up in the middle of the night, crying loudly for food and love… None of that."

Crossing his arms, Mason leaned back in his chair. “Is that what you want?" he asked quietly.

Izagor was also quiet for a long moment, then she finally stopped pacing and met Mason's gaze. “No. I don't want to smash the egg. Option three is we keep the egg (or eggs), and we keep all the responsibilities that come with it. I don't know if I'm ready for those responsibilities, but I can definitely tell you I don't think I could bring myself to smash an egg—our own egg."

Mason nodded, his face completely serious. “Ok, I agree with that. So we're going to be parents then." He said it in such a calm, obvious manner that contrasted sharply with the panicked emotions Izagor was feeling.

Izagor drew a sharp breath, and she bounced up and down on her forepaws nervously. “Ohh! It's so serious when you say it like that! Am we ready for all that adulthood? What if we mess something up? What if something goes wrong when I lay the egg? What if it ends up having a cracked shell, or the hatchling has a defect when it hatches and it dies? Will it even be a hatchling? That's why I'm worried about transforming! What happens if I transform to a human now? Will I still be gravid? Humans don't lay eggs, do they? I remember we visited that hospital once and there were babies, but no eggs. Uggh, that's so weeeird!"

Mason chuckled, and Izagor found herself laughing along. “Haha, relax. No, humans don't lay eggs. I'm not exactly sure what the transformation spell would do to you, but we don't need to find out. Honestly, I'm not too worried about the biology. The transformation spell works physically, which means that our child should just be a normal dragon since we were both dragons during the conception. Hybridization isn't a thing…probably?"

Izagor began pacing again. “I don't know! I know how dragons reproduce, but you aren't a dragon, yet you changed yourself into a dragon enough that it works too? I love you, but I don't know what to do…" Pausing mid-stride, Izagor turned to face Mason. “You're going to have to mount me again, by the way, if we're keeping this egg."

Mason raised an eyebrow, a uniquely human gesture that Izagor had never managed to pull off properly. “What?"

“Sex. You need to sex me. A drake's seed helps a dragoness to form the yolk and shell of their egg." Izagor used the tip of her tail to point towards the whitish transformation crystal sitting on Mason's desk, then she turned around and raised her rump towards him. “Transform and let's get to it."

“Is that actually a thing, or are you just making that up because you're feeling horny?" Mason replied.

“Hmmmr… I'm not joking. That's what my clan elders told me back when they explained to me how things worked. Mates have to mate if they want eggs." Izagor trotted over to Mason and put a paw on his crotch possessively. “By the sky spirits, I've missed you…"

Still sitting his chair, Mason chuckled and casually began undoing the buttons of his shirt. “I've missed you too. My life is so lonely without you here, even when I'm surrounded by my colleagues and students." Leaning over, he gently kissed Izagor on her snout, and the dragoness' crest fin perked all the way up.

“Ohhhhh, yes," Izagor hummed. She returned the gesture by licking Mason's face. Kissing was a much easier practice when they were both human or both dragon, because otherwise someone's tongue would be much longer than the other's, yet at this point neither of them really cared.

Even after this short, week-and-a-half long period of not seeing each other, Izagor felt like she was desperate for intimacy. Her heat was making it worse—as her body ran through the process of making an egg, her natural instincts told her to seek out her mate and partner. And yet knowing why she had such instincts did nothing to dampen her emotions. Izagor climbed over Mason even as he was sitting in his chair, and she pressed herself against his still-clothed body. “I want you—"

Suddenly there was a sharp knock on the office door, and both sorcerer and dragon froze up. “Damn it. Who's that now?" Mason muttered quietly. He hurriedly leapt to his feet and buttoned his shirt up again. “Hide, hide."

Izagor looked from side to side, wondering what to do. She could have jumped out the window, but there was a blizzard going on and she wasn't that committed to keeping her secret. Instead she settled for hurriedly scrambling under Mason's desk and out of sight from the doorway. She had to tuck in her wings tight and coil her tail around her paws to fit, but she made it.

From her place under the desk, Izagor heard Mason stand up to go unlock the door. “Oh, Arch Wizard Lanus! Hello. What are you doing here?" he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. It's the off-term season and you're still doing work in your office? It's night already. Get some rest," came the reply.

“I was just… just catching up on paperwork," Mason replied, and Izagor could imagine how awkward her mate looked at this moment. Mason had a tendency towards being a workaholic, something which she had learned even in the first few days they'd met, all those years ago. “Since I came over here to check out that false alarm, I decided to just do some work while I'm here. My office is quite comfortable."

“Hmm," Lanus said. Izagor heard footsteps, then the faint sound of the arch wizard sitting down in the chair opposite Mason's desk. “This whole false alarm mess is unfortunate. I've ordered the operations team to stand down the alert system, and maintenance will check out the sensors first thing tomorrow."

Still squeezed under the desk, Izagor watched quietly as Mason came around and sat back down in his own chair. His face gave away nothing, with not even a stray glance down at her to reveal there was a dragon hiding so close. “It seems we have a false alarm every month."

“Better for us to have false alarms than having an escaped demon or a rogue basilisk break out and go terrorize the city. I remember the days before we had sensor or shields—the academy was rather infamous back in those old days. It was great for recruiting excitable young magicians, but not for getting funding from the mayor." A short pause, then, “But as for the Department of Sorcery, I don't like that you keep summoning circles active overnight without anyone monitoring them."

“It's standard practice and as per guild recommendations. Only low-level entities are allowed, with the enchantments checked every day. And even if we wanted monitoring at all times, we don't have that many technicians at the moment."

“Standard guild practice, you say?"

“Yes. Modern summoning circles are inherently failsafe. Even when broken, their enchantments are designed to discharge their energy in a way which will banish most entities safely in a controlled…"

Even as Mason continued to converse with his boss, Izagor gently snaked her tail over towards Mason and curled her tail tip around his ankle. This was probably a bad idea, but it also provided a source of amusement for her.

“Well, I defer to your expertise in this field. You've been a master sorcerer for at least a decade, even before you joined the academy?" Lanus asked.

“That is correct," Mason replied.

“Have you heard that Vic is planning to retire soon? The Department of Sorcery will need a new head, and you're first in line for that job. Did you know that? You're one of our best sorcerers. It's hard to find magicians who are highly competent in their craft, yet also talented at teaching it to apprentices, and also good enough with people to manage a department."

Mason hesitated before replying, possibly because he was surprised by this praise, but possibly also because Izagor had pulled up one of his pant legs and started to gently gnaw on his leg as he sat behind his desk. “I have heard that rumour. It would be an honour to have such responsibility, but I do think there other sorcerers in this department who easily exceed my skills."

“How humble of you. But if I and the other senior academy leaders decided that you were the best fit to take charge of this department, would you accept?"

“Well, I must say there are… other considerations. I would have to think about it. Much as I enjoy sorcery and using magic in general, I have priorities in my life beyond just that." Right as Mason was saying this, Izagor was sliding her tail up so the appendage lightly brushed against Mason's crotch. His foot gently moved and stepped down on her tail, pushing it away before this motion could continue.

“Hmm. Nothing is decided yet. If it does turn out to be you who is chosen as head of sorcery, we will speak again in due course and you can make your decision then. There are still quite a few weeks before the next term begins… A few weeks before the apprentices return to their studies. Think about it and consider your options." There was the sound of the chair sliding back against the carpeted floor. "That's all then. Good night, Mason."

“Yes, of course. Good night, arch wizard." Mason got to his feet and went to see Lanus out of his office. A few seconds later, Izagor heard the door swing shut, followed by the click of the lock. “Ok, she's gone now. Tonight really has been full of surprises," Mason said.

Izagor slid herself out from under the desk and hopped onto Mason's now vacant office chair. She plopped herself down and had to sit sideways because of her tail, but she still grinned at Mason, her crest fin perking up. “Look at you! Your boss just all but confirmed that you're getting a promotion, and you're going to become a father! That's so adult. Do you feel old yet?"

“Older than I used to be, certainly." Mason walked over and leaned against his desk, half-standing and half-sitting. “But you're older than me, so if I feel old you should too," he added, using a single finger to tap Izagor on her nose.

Izagor playfully snapped at his finger. “You're right! Where did the days of our youth go? Remember that trip we took to the Julbanus Federation, flying all across the country to visit all the interesting places? Where we just went wherever and did whatever we wanted?"

“Mm. I also recall you getting tired out by headwinds after the first couple of days, and so we stopped flying and transformed into human to take a train instead," Mason replied. “Now life is bit more…mundane. No more adventuring all across the world, just a steady job and responsibilities."

“Funny you should mention mundane. After I've laid our egg, and when our child finally hatches, I think our life will be quite the adventure once again." Izagor unfurled her wings from her back, but she nervously wrapped them around herself like a blanket. “We…can't raise a hatchling here, can we? Not that I have anything against human society in general, but there would be quite a few questions to answer if we suddenly had to explain why we're raising a dragon hatchling. Assuming it's a hatchling. It should be a hatchling."

Mason shrugged. “We'll figure it out together. We always do. Just take things one step at a time."

“Good idea! What were we doing before your boss so rudely interrupted us with her giving you a promotion?" Izagor used her tail to push against the floor, making the office chair she was sitting on spin around and around. When it finally came to a stop, she was facing away from Mason. Izagor swished her tail from side to side, then she swung it up and held it out of the way, giving Mason a good (and hopefully seductive) look at her underbelly. “So, do you see anything you like—aahh!"

Izagor's shift in posture had altered her balance, and she let out a panicked squeak as the chair started to topple over. She hurriedly threw her wings open and flapped them sharply to try and stabilize herself; at the same time, she stretched her tail out and coiled its tip around the closest thing she could grab, which turned out to be Mason's waist.

Regardless of her efforts, Izagor and the chair toppled to the ground, and she pulled Mason down along with her. They ended up in a tangled heap, lying against the carpet. Izagor was quiet for a moment, then she burst out into giggles. “Heheheh…"

“I sure hope Arch Wizard Lanus has left the building, else she would wonder what I'm doing up here locked in my office, knocking over my chair and talking to myself," Mason said, though Izagor could see he was smiling.

Reaching out her paw, Izagor played with Mason's hair, patting him on the head even as they both remained lying down on the carpet. “Why do you always call her Arch Wizard Lanus? It's such a formal way to talk, always calling people by their title."

“I'm a very stiff, formal sort of person, as you well know," Mason replied. He rolled over and sat up, only for Izagor to leap over and pounce on him. She pushed Mason down and sat over his body, snuggling against him and wrapping her tail around his leg.

“Hnnng… I'd like a stiff part of you right now…" Izagor muttered. She nosed at Mason's neck, and used one of her forepaws to gently tug at his shirt buttons. “Why are you still wearing your clothes?"

Mason chuckled. “Because we're in my office? Do you really want to do this in my office, the same place where I tutor my students and where I grade test papers?"

“Why not? It just you, me, and no one else. Remove your clothing or have it removed!" Izagor declared, patting Mason's chest.

With deliberate, teasing slowness, Mason unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time. Almost universally, the best moments of his life had been spent with Izagor, and who was he to deny his wife what she wanted? Certainly it would have been a lie to say that he wasn't just as attracted to her in return.

With his shirt fully unbuttoned, Mason shrugged out of his shirt and left it lying open on the ground behind him. With an equally casual motion he wriggled out of his pants, pushing them down to his knees. Unfortunately he was still wearing his boots, which made fully removing his pants a bit of a challenge. “Move. Let me take off my boots." He pushed at Izagor, trying to get her to lift her weight off him, but she didn't budge.

“Nah. I've flew for days for this! I braved a blizzard to be with you…" Izagor curled her tail forward and slipped the tip into Mason's underwear, yanking it down with a quick motion that led to the sound of ripping fabric. With his boots still on, his pants just ended up scrunched around his calves, yet somehow this made him feel even more naked then if he'd been wearing nothing at all. With the majority of his body now exposed, Mason could intimately feel the texture of Izagor's scales pressing against his skin—like smooth, flat, rigid plates that felt warm to the touch. And there was one spot in particular which felt all the more warm, pressed up against his crotch. “It's so annoying to be in heat," Izagor muttered. “And it's far, far worse when I'm alone."

Izagor started to move, half-hugging and half humping against him. Mason was already partially erect, and this motion quickly had him fully ready. The carpet felt scratchy against his back, but Mason easily ignored the surroundings. Slowly he slid his hands down, tracing the outline of Izagor's slender, aerodynamic body and feeling the smooth, warm texture of her scales.

There was something deeply intimate about feeling Izagor pressed up against him, pinning him down with her weight. She wasn't crushing him. Dragons were fairly similar in size to humans, and they were all hollow bones and thin, air-catching wing membranes. Mason let his hands wander—one hand moved downwards towards Izagor's underbelly, sliding towards that soft point right between her hindlegs where the lines of her scales met in a neat cleft. Izagor's genital slit felt warm and slightly wet as he gently slid his fingers across it—inhuman, but so familiar to him.

Mason moved his other hand behind Izagor's neck, and he started casually playing with her crest fin. That delicate structure was made from the same sort of membranes which made up her wings, and it was highly sensitive even to slight disturbances in airflow. Physically touching it made a shudder run down Izagor's back, and she inhaled sharply. Her crest perked up in response, as if it was eager to be touched even more. From his own experiences with transforming himself into a dragon, Mason knew just how good it felt for a dragon to have their crest played with—gently, of course, and at the appropriate moment by the right person, yet it was undoubtedly an erogenous zone.

“Hmggrrngghh…" Izagor made an incoherent pleased sound, and she opened her jaws to playfully nibble on Mason's shoulder. Her whole body felt warm and tingly and happy, with lustful desire clouding all her thoughts. She could have drawn this experience out. She could have asked Mason to keep using his fingers to play with her, or asked him to use his mouth, or asked him to do whatever she wanted because he would have listened. But she had been waiting for days, and she wasn't going to wait another second.

Izagor moved her hindlegs so she was crouching properly over Mason. She snaked her tail forward and coiled its tip around the base of Mason's manhood, dextrously gripping him by his reproductive organ. Then she shifted her hips to line her body up with his, and without any further ado she lowered herself down and let him spear up into her. Soft yet hard, delightfully warm and filling—Izagor took her time savouring that very first penetrative stroke. Holding the one she loved close, coupling together in this basal manner. There was no possible greater intimacy.

No more talking, no more thinking, just feeling and living in the moment. For all the many times they'd done this before, making love felt all the more intimate and sensual as they were so well acquainted with each other's bodies and what got both of them off. Izagor fanned out her wings and mantled them around Mason's body as she clutched him close and thrust against his supine form. She could feel lust burning through her body. Part of it was from her heat, but a good portion of her current arousal was just from being pent up and deprived of sexual release over the past few days. Oh, how she had missed this.

It didn't take her more than a few brief minutes to hit her first climax. Tension built up inside her as each stroke grew more pleasurable than the last, until finally Izagor could take it no more. “Ah…" Gasping softly, she slammed her hips down and hugged Mason as close as she possibly could. Blissful, overwhelming pleasure blew every coherent thought out of her head, and her muscles trembled and clenched involuntarily.

Mason stroked her neck and her crest fin, and he leaned in to kiss the side of her snout. For a few seconds Izagor rode those wonderful sensations that echoed through her body, then the pleasure faded to a more manageable level, still leaving her heavily aroused and ready for more.

And she got more. Izagor kept moving, humping her body against Mason's and panting softly as she continued coupling with her mate. No more than a minute after Izagor had reached her first climax, Mason tensed up and Izagor heard his breath catch. “Izzy, slow down or else…" he warned her.

Izagor gently nipped on Mason's shoulder. “No."

“If you don't, I'm going to—"

“Damn right you are," Izagor hissed, and she kept going.

Mason's hips bucked upwards, thrusting deeper into her, and he shuddered as pleasure fired through his body, forcing him to spend his seed into her. A human's semen had no effect whatsoever in a dragon, yet Izagor found herself deeply aroused by that knowledge that her mate was releasing his essence inside her. It was hard to describe exactly what she felt in that moment—lust and love, fuelled by their shared sense of understanding, of trust, and of intimacy.

Mason raised a hand to wipe some sweat from his brow. Despite it being the middle of winter, Izagor's body felt warm as she pressed against him. Yet though her scales felt warm to the touch, that hardly compared to the intense, slippery wet heat of her insides as she clutched him in the most intimate manner possible.

Holding onto Izagor's forelegs, Mason gently rolled them both over so they were lying side by side. Again he could feel the carpet scratching at his naked skin, but that didn't really matter. As a younger man in the times before he'd met Izagor, Mason had been more easily embarrassed and more awkward in general, but she'd changed him. Not a literal change, for the transformation crystals had been one of Mason's own side projects, but Izagor's carefree personality had seared away some of his nervousness and his self-consciousness.

Mason spent another satisfied moment beside Izagor, clutching her close as they both lay on the floor. Kicking off his boots, he finally removed his pants entirely, then his socks too. And then he was fully naked.

Izagor made a soft, growling, happy noise. “Hggrrrr… Ready for round two?" she asked.

“I think that we deserve a round two, yes, after all our days apart." Despite the fact he'd just spent himself, Mason was certainly eager to do it again. He remained almost fully erect still, but instead he got to his feet and strolled over to his desk. “Not like this, though."

Izagor also rolled to her feet, though she turned away so that her rear was facing Mason. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure his gaze was still locked on her, she crouched down on her forelegs and stood tall on her hindlegs, raising her tail out of the way in a pose which was unquestionably inviting. “I'm ready for you."

Mason snatched up the transformation crystal from his desk and held it firmly with one hand. “Morphus," he murmured, and powerful magical energies burst from the crystal, jolting up his arm to spread across his body. Though this process was well familiar to them both, it still felt intensely shocking for Mason as he started to change.

With each step he took towards Izagor, his body grew less human. His proportions shifted as bones and muscles altered themselves. His hair dropped from his head before vanishing into nothing, and Mason could feel scales erupting over his skin, covering his body with smooth flat plates which were still surprisingly sensitive to the touch of air. With one step he was walking on two legs, then in another he was walking on four. In the next step he had two broad wings pushing out of his shoulder blades, creating a gust of wind that sent paperwork flying as Mason flapped his wings once before furling them onto his back.

His hearing grew slightly muted, yet the sensitivity of his scales let him feel the air all around him. His vision enhanced and everything seemed to snap more sharply into focus as his eyes were altered. The next time Mason blinked, he felt the subtle, hardly noticeable delay that came from blinking with a double layered eyelid.

The senses of dragons weren't quite the same as humans—Mason could feel a curious sensation of directionality as his draconic form had an internal compass, something which humans lacked. Smell was one thing that should have stayed the same, but Mason's nostrils flared as his new body picked up a delightful scent in the air which made his head spin. It was the scent of fertility, of arousal, of a female dragoness in heat who needed him to satisfy her. That scent was made all the more enticing by a familiar, unique component that he could recognize in a heartbeat—this wasn't any mere woman, any mere dragoness—this was Izagor, and he loved her.

Even as the transformation was still finishing up, and while his tail was still growing out to full length, Mason climbed atop Izagor, letting his chest rest against her back. He paused for a moment, taking in the feel of his body. Everything about his body was changed, yet nothing had really changed at all—he was going to mate with his wife just as he had before. His phallus brushed against her underbelly, leaving a trail of wetness on her scales before he finally managed to get things lined up.

“Mmmrr. Nice." Izagor curled her head back, and she licked at Mason's snout affectionately. “Now breed me."

“I will." Mason took another deep breath, enjoying the delightfully arousing scent that clung to Izagor. His tip met her genital slit, then ever so gently he pushed forward, spearing into her with his reproductive organ. It was so wonderfully, absolutely pleasurable than Mason was surprised he didn't climax right there and then. “I'll breed you. I'll fill you up, and we'll make an egg together."

Slowly he began to rock back and forth, savouring the sensation as he held Izagor close and mated with her. Izagor moved her hips too, shifting her body against his to enhance every stroke.

The raw physical sensuality was intoxicating, but that wasn't really what got Mason so aroused. Deep down, Izagor made him feel safe, made him feel understood, and made him feel loved, and those emotions then spilled over into sexual desire. The mutual bond they shared was what truly linked them, and that was why Mason had long ago lost any sense of unease over the truth of his wife's species.

Powered by these transformation crystals, Izagor could (and often would) change her own form to that of a human, but Mason's affection was entirely independent of how his wife looked at the moment. Dragon or human, she acted the same way regardless.

Did it matter if her current draconic form had no hair, no breasts, and walked on four legs? Mason's conventional ideas about beauty had long ago been loosened. Izagor's body felt sleekly curved as he held onto her, lean but powerful muscles tensing just under her scales as she braced herself against his repeated thrusts. He couldn't resist her. He didn't want to.

Mason could feel Izagor shuddering, her body going tense and rigid as she swept past another orgasmic peak. Her quiet moans was undeniably exciting, making his own lust quickly climb towards a climax. Mason contemplated slowing down and trying to resist his own arousal. But neither of them really wanted to slow down.

There soon came a specific instant where Mason felt his arousal hit a tipping point—the pleasure coursing through his body threatened to become overwhelming, and Mason knew that he had to stop or he would inevitably release. He didn't stop.

With clear, deliberant intent, Mason continued to rock his hips and thrust his length into Izagor's depths. This wasn't some unexpected climax that took him by surprise, nor was this a case where the pleasure running through his body overrode his better judgement—this was an active choice to keep going and embrace every bit of responsibility that would eventually result.

“Izzy…" Mason clutched Izagor close and he gently nibbled on her crest fin—an affectionate gesture that was so familiar that he just did it without even thinking. He flapped his wings down, wrapping them around Izagor's body to get as much physical contact as possible even while his thrusts grew deep and urgent. The engorged, sensitive flesh of his reproductive organ stiffened even further and held that way for a slow, wonderful moment, then it throbbed hard.

Pleasure exploded through Mason's body, concentrated right in his underbelly but blasting out to his extremities and lighting up every nerve in his system. Mason jerked repeatedly, his eyes tightly shut and his snout scrawled up as bliss ran through him with such intensity that it was impossible to contain. His mind was completely overridden, temporarily sent spinning in circles as automatic reflexes seized control. His tail twitched to a rhythmic beat, flagging up and down as muscles further up in his underbelly also contracted and relaxed, squeezing internal glands and vesicles to pump out all his seed. Each twitch of his phallus sent a fresh spurt of semen deep into Izagor, deep into her fertile depths were it would take hold.

Perhaps it was an effect of Izagor's smell and those sex pheromones which were clouding Mason's mind, or perhaps it was simply the knowledge that he was fulfilling a fundamental biological goal, but he could hardly believe just how good it felt. Mason couldn't think, but it felt so wonderfully right to be hold Izagor close, emptying himself into her and fulfilling the most primal of desires.

Finally, after an eternity which had just been a brief fraction of a minute, that pleasurable high slowly faded away and left behind a blanketing sensation of satisfaction and affection. Mason panted softly as he gradually recovered.

Izagor was making a pleased rumbling noise from her chest. “Hmmmrrrr… That was good," she said.

“So good. So very good." Mason spent another few seconds atop his mate, then he slowly shifted his weight off her and fully onto his own hindlegs. His phallus slid out of her slit, and a strand of bodily fluid briefly connected their reproductive organs. Slowly his mind was reengaging, his intellect spinning back into action to figure out what needed to happen next. “So we're going to be parents then… Lots of preparations to be made."

“Mm hmm." Izagor casually stretched herself, and Mason heard several pops as she twisted her back from side to side. She spun herself around in a circle, then lay down on her side and patted the area right behind her. Mason got the hint, and he walked over and lay down right next to her.

Snuggling back against him, Izagor nodded happily and entwined their tails together. “I feel fatter already, almost as if the egg (or eggs) have already begun growing inside me. Ooh, that's going to be so weird having to lay. Scary."

Even as he gently spooned against his mate, Mason was already starting to make plans. “Let's assume that our child is just going to be a normal dragon hatchling, because we were both in dragon form when conception occurred. So it doesn't really make sense for us to stay here anymore, does it?"

“Hmm. I suppose we could both go live with my clanmates down in the southeast? Some of them have been nagging at me for years to stop roaming about and settle down," Izagor replied.

“If it was just you and me, I would be entirely alright with us roaming and exploring the world all away from society, but I don't think that's a good way to raise a child. Both dragons and humans are social species, after all. It takes a community," Mason said. He rolled to his feet and went back over to his table. He stared at the transformation crystal there, which could return him to his normal form with just a touch.

Still sprawled out on the floor, Izagor turned her head to keep looking at Mason. “Alright, so we could raise our offspring amongst my clan's home territory? It's a nice big mountain range—lots of open space, fresh air, plenty of other dragons of all ages. I'm alright with this, but that would mean you would have to live there properly, Mason. You wouldn't be just visiting for a few days, but fully committing to living amongst my clan as a dragon."

“I could do it! You're living as a human right now, so surely I could learn to live as a dragon amongst your people," Mason countered. He snatched up the transformation crystal from the table, and once again magical power began to alter his form. Inversely to what had happened just a while before, his body started to lose draconic traits in favour of human ones.

Izagor watched her mate change. “Haha, this is going to be such an adventure!" She grinned at him, remembering the one time he had visited her clan before. “To be honest with you, love… I think some of my clanmates thought you were so very weird last time you visited. And that's without them even having the faintest idea that you're a human. We can't tell them, of course."

As his transformation wound down, Mason stood fully upright and went over to pull on his clothes again. “Even if we don't tell them about me actually being a human, would they… accept us?" he asked. “If we go to your clan's territory, and just… show up out of nowhere with you all gravid, would they accept us and help us?"

Izagor nodded. “Definitely! Dragons change clans all the time, and joining a clan because you're taking a mate is an entirely normal thing to do. We'll need to come up with some exciting history for you—maybe you're from some mysterious, far-off clan, but by my great wiles and my mastery of seduction, I have enticed you to join our clan!" The dragoness rolled onto her back and giggled, kicking her legs up into the air. “Heheh! This is going to be great. I hope. Hopefully we don't mess this up. I hope we're good parents."

“Eh. What's the worst that can happen?" Mason laced up his boots, then he walked over to the door and snatched up his coat, which completed the process of donning his clothing. “Shall we head back to the academy hostel? I'll cast an illusion spell over you so that you'll be hard to see through the snowfall unless someone else gets close. The arch wizard said that the alarms will be stood down, so for tonight at least there won't be a concern about your presence being detected."

Izagor got to her feet and trotted over towards Mason. “Let's go home." She gently nuzzled his side with her snout, then she dropped to her belly. “Climb onto my back and cast your illusion spell over us both. I'll fly us over to the hostel."

Mason looked out the closed window—the snowstorm was coming down heavily, and visibility was very low. “Are you sure you want to fly in this weather?"

“It'll be faster than walking. We'll be less cold this way."

“Alright." Mason shut off his office's lights and grabbed his satchel, then he carefully swung his leg up to mount Izagor's back, riding right between her shoulder blades with his legs going just in front of her wings. “I suppose this sort of thing will become impossible for you once you're pregnant, because of the egg weighing you down."

“I didn't even think about that, but you're right! I've heard from my older clanmates that carrying an egg inside you is very inconvenient. Makes flying pretty much impossible, supposedly." Izagor pushed herself upright. She took a moment to get used to Mason's weight, then she curled her tail around and tried to unlock the window's latch. “Good thing I'll only have to worry about that for a week or two. Grah… Can you help me get that latch?"

“Sure. I'll conceal us too. Viga!" Mason muttered, using a simple illusion spell to shroud them both and make them partially invisible from a distance. Such spellwork would hardly stand up to any close scrutiny, but at night in a snowstorm, it was unlikely they would come across anyone else wandering around the academy grounds. Mason reached over to unlock the window latch, but then something Izagor had said stuck in his mind. “Uh, what do you mean by a week or two?" he asked.

“Just, you know—being gravid. I'm glad I won't have to carry our egg inside me for too long, and I can lay it out next week or so," Izagor replied casually.

“Wait, what?" Mason had been pushing open the window, letting in a cold gust of snowy wind, but he stopped and hurriedly pulled the window shut again. Clearly there were some information here which had not been adequately communicated. “Hold on now, hold on. A week? Seriously?"

Izagor slowly nodded. “Yes? Why do you sound so surprised?"

“Because… humans have to pregnant for nine months, but you're saying that you… you're going to lay an egg next week?" Mason asked.

“Nine months? That seems like an awfully long time to have something growing inside you." Izagor lazily patted a paw against her underbelly. “Female dragons can produce their eggs one week after being bred. Which is hardly surprising because being in heat is my body already doing a lot of the hard work in preparation for making an egg, and the one week afterwards is just when the proper process starts after conception. Once the egg is laid, it'll take anywhere from three-quarters to five quarters of a year for the hatchling to develop, depending on how big the egg is."

“Still, one week is really fast!"

“Chickens can lay eggs in a day. Not that I'm comparing myself to a chicken, but the point stands," Izagor replied.

Still sitting atop the dragoness, Mason ran his hand through his hair. He had been mentally coming up with a list of things that would need to be done, but this sudden revelation changed the time frame. “Ok, I don't question biology, but we don't have anything prepared yet! In one week's time we'll need to be ready to handle an egg?"

“We'll have to prepare a nice little nest for the egg. Nothing fancy, just someplace to keep it safe and warm. Taking care of an egg isn't that hard," Izagor replied. “I hope," she added after a moment.

Mason was torn between an excited grin and a nervous frown. “Ok, right. No problem. We've always figured things out in the end, so this time won't be any different." He unlatched the window and pushed it partially ajar.

Izagor used her snout to push the window the rest of the way open, and then she carefully hopped through and onto the thin ledge just outside. A freezing wind blew all around them, and snowflakes spun down from the sky in spiralling patterns. Carefully she used her tail to push the window shut again, then she leaned back and prepared to spring from the ledge. “I'll fly us back to the hostel real fast! Ready?"

Mason clutched onto her back, his hands going around her neck. “I'm holding on. Take us home."

Izagor took a deep breath of the winter air, then she leapt into the air.

EPILOGUE

After about half a minute of repeated knocking, a librarian came to open the locked front doors. “Professor? You're very early. The library normally doesn't open for another hour."

Mason glanced around—admittedly it was rather early in the morning, with the sun barely even risen. “Ah, yes. Hello. Sorry to bother you, but I'm in a bit of a rush. I just need to borrow some books. It's urgent."

“Um… Normally we're strict on opening times, but you are a professor, and if it's urgent I guess I could make an exception." The librarian stepped back and let Mason into the library. “We're still sweeping the floors and getting the archive in order, but you can go ahead and borrow your books if you want."

“Fantastic! Fantastic. Thank you!" Mason hurried into the library, then he paused and turned back to the librarian. “Sorry to bother you again, but where is the archive for the Department of Zoology?"

“Zoology is in this wing, right over that side there." The librarian pointed to the far side of the library's large open space, filled with innumerable bookshelves. “Anything topic in particular?"

“Dragons. I need books on dragons, especially on their society and biology," Mason said. “Just for a little research project," he added after a few seconds.

“Of course. Dragons would be shelves 36 and 37, I believe," said the librarian. “Just come find me a gain once you have the books you want. Good luck with your project, professor."

Mason smiled and nodded at the librarian. “Thank you. This project will be… quite something different from usual."

END

Back to search