Draconis Genesis: The Dawn of Magic

Drakaryn reclined on the ledge outside his den, his glowing eyes half-closed as his mind worked through the concepts swirling within him. The years of accumulation, study, and experimentation had given him ample vitality to sustain himself for years, freeing him from the tedious cycle of hunting and digestion. Not to mention his raid on Tazerith's domain. His focus had shifted entirely to his comprehension of the Dragontongue and the possibilities it offered. The pocket dimensions he had created were no longer just storage solutions—they had become a canvas for his growing mastery.

The first experiments were simple. Fixing pocket dimensions to objects had yielded fascinating results. Rough stones served as durable anchors, but their connection to the space felt… jagged, as if the raw texture interfered with the stability. In contrast, a polished river rock provided a smoother, more harmonious bond. As he studied the river stone, its jewel-like surface reflecting the sunlight, he wondered if the refinement of the material contributed to the dimension's stability.

Living objects, however, posed challenges. Trees and herbs resisted the space attribute, their vitality seeming to reject the energy. Time, he noticed, behaved similarly—just as elusive as space and equally unwilling to settle within living anchors. Yet, elements like fire, water, earth, and air bonded readily to plants, each transforming the host into something extraordinary.

Drakaryn's experiments with the elements quickly became more complex. By focusing on the Dragontongue and his deepening understanding of the elements, he began shaping plants imbued with their attributes.

Fire grasses sprouted from the earth, their blades glowing with an inner heat that shimmered like embers. Trees twisted with air affinity grew light and wispy, their leaves shimmering as if caught in a perpetual breeze. Vines imbued with water draped gracefully, their surfaces slick with dew that dripped endlessly into pools below and fat fruit plump with delicacies. The possibilities seemed endless, each success pushing his curiosity further.

One day, while testing the stability of a pocket dimension anchored to a stone, an idea struck him. What if one pocket dimension could contain another? The thought seemed absurd at first, but the Dragontongue whispered its approval. Drakaryn focused, speaking the layered words with precision. The first pocket dimension stabilized within a smooth river stone. Then, with another utterance of the Dragontongue, he placed the river stone into a second pocket dimension anchored to a rougher rock.

The experiment worked.

He repeated the process, layering dimension upon dimension, each nested within the last. By the time he realized how far he had gone, he had created hundreds of thousands of pocket spaces, each tethered delicately to the next. The weight of his creation was vast, yet it felt light in his grasp, the Dragontongue ensuring that every layer held steady. The possibilities were overwhelming, yet Drakaryn's mind raced ahead. He saw no end to the configurations he could create.

One afternoon, Drakaryn decided to take his experiments further. He focused on creating a pocket dimension shaped by his understanding of water. The Dragontongue flowed effortlessly from his throat, the words weaving together like streams converging into a river. The dimension began to take form, its landscape mirroring his comprehension of water's essence—fluid, adaptive, and nourishing. Streams crisscrossed rolling hills, waterfalls cascaded from jagged cliffs, and lakes sparkled under an imagined sun.

Satisfied with the dimension, Drakaryn anchored it to a scale on his forearm, his connection to the space solid and unwavering. But an idea tugged at him—a way to test whether the dimension could evolve beyond his understanding. He removed the scale and carried it back to the secluded waterfall where his first comprehension of water affinity had blossomed.

Placing the scale carefully in the pool below the falls, he stepped back and watched. The area shifted almost imperceptibly. The mist grew thicker, the water sparkled more brightly, and the mana in the air seemed to hum with new vitality. To Drakaryn's surprise, his own comprehension of water began to grow as well. The connection between the dimension and the physical location seemed to transcend proximity, tethered only by the scale he had left behind.

The realization struck him like a thunderclap: "Every part of a dragon is a precious treasure…"

The elders' warning before their exile echoed in his mind. Dragons were not just beings of strength—they were vessels of power, their bodies capable of shaping and holding the world itself. His scale had become a bridge, not just between the dimension and the waterfall, but between his understanding and the natural world.

Drakaryn's curiosity flared anew. If he could do this with water, what of the other elements? Could he create similar spaces for fire, earth, or air? And what of more complex combinations—desert landscapes that embodied both earth and air, or volcanic worlds where fire and earth converged?

The possibilities overwhelmed him. He envisioned placing a fire-dimension scale within a volcano, allowing the heat and molten stone to shape his comprehension of both fire and earth. A desert might refine earth and wind together, teaching him the ways of shifting sands and relentless gusts. Every corner of the Valtheris Expanse seemed ripe for experimentation, each location offering a unique opportunity to deepen his mastery.

Yet, with each idea, a new question arose: How far could he push this? How many dimensions could he create, how many landscapes could he shape before the Dragontongue demanded more than he could give?

For now, Drakaryn set those questions aside. The horizon stretched endlessly before him, and the world teemed with opportunities for growth. He had glimpsed the edges of something vast and unknowable, and he was determined to dive deeper, no matter the cost.