Normal: a one-shot written as a prize for Draco Lucius (after whom the character of this fic is named) for correctly answering my trivia question at the end of the second chapter of my other fic, Conception. Go check out Draco Lucuis's work- very nice writing with very interesting OC's.

Throughout the ages, great dragons have lived, fought and died, having their names and stories live on in legend and myth. They have conquered great foes and have given humans, elves, and other dragons great gifts of wisdom, all. It has been these dragons to whom the world is indebted.

Draco is not one of these dragons. He has never fought a monster, nor has he reversed a natural disaster, nor has he taught great lessons in philosophy. Draco is simply normal.

Not that normal has ever been a bad thing. No, never. But normal wasn't legendary. And therein lies the problem.

Draco would pass from this world knowing that his name and legacy would be forgotten. Once his flesh had decayed and his bones had turned to dust and his scales had become the jewels of this earth, there would be not a trace of him left. The great scops*would not sing of him as they did the great dragons and their riders.

Perhaps it was destined to be this way from the beginning. As an egg, Draco was not chosen to be bound to a rider. So, as most free dragons, Draco was hatched to two proud dragon parents.

He spent the first ten years of his life with his small clan, as nearly all free dragons do. It was with this clan that he learned everything he needed to know.

He learned how to fly under the careful instruction of his mother. He learned how to hunt under the diligent teachings of his father. He learned how to fight by the games he and his cousins and siblings would play, He learned how to live under the guidance of the heard he called family.

Eventually he left, as all males do, to find a suitable mate. A strong, handsome dragon as him had little trouble finding a female to lay his eggs. And so, the life cycle continued, with three new members of the draconian race. As his father before him, and his father before him, and his father before him, and all his other ancestors, he raised his young well, and saw them fly off to begin their own stories.

Perhaps his life was not heroic or worthy of a lengthy epic, but it was a good life. Draco did not veer from the path of living a moral life, as bound dragons were wont to do. He was a good dragon, and had lived his life justly

This thought was the last thought he had as he lay dying on the soft green grass by the small clear brook. It comforted him as his old body gave into the sickness, and he departed from this world.

*Scops: Anglo-Saxon bards. Often warriors as well as story tellers.

I would like to take this time to ask my readers about a forum I'm thinking about starting. It would be like a writer's improvement club and I would post articles and websites for authors and we would have tips and challenges and writing exercises. Does that sound like something that you would participate in? Pm me or leave a review if you would like me to start this :)

And also review! Tell me what you liked AND what you hated (I prefer critical review to positive ones!)