Dragon of the Darkmoon

“May I pose thee a question, my knight? This tower, this prison, stands tall and solitary, the contraption bridging its lower reaches long unmoving. So… by what path didst thou here ascend? Art thou a creature of the air, or other winged thing?”
	For a moment only silence passes between you. Though you’ve long since come to terms with the almost childlike naivete of your captain, it seems as though she’s still capable of catching you off guard. The answer most immediate is no, but another idea quickly presents itself and you hold back the less interesting of the two.
“Yes, I can fly.”
 Yorshka clasps her hands together in delight and her face lights up with a look of wonder. “Oh, my! I imagined it might be so. Then thou’rt a dragon, or perhaps a crow? Whatever thou beest, thou’rt wondrous strange, yet strangely familiar.”
A melodious laugh like the chiming of bells punctuates her words and fills you with a small warmth as you relish in the opportunity to make your captain’s day a little brighter.
Soon another thought occurs as ideas connect and a small smile pulls at your lips.
“It is as you say, my captain. I am a dragon. And I shall reveal my true form to you if it should please you.”
“A dragon who walks as a knight? Thou’rt most wondrous strange indeed, my Blade of the Darkmoon. If thy true form thou wouldst reveal to me, I shalt gratefully accept. Long have I dreamt of gazing upon a noble dragon with mine own eyes.”
“Then it shall be so.”
Taking a few steps backwards so that your back is nearly touching the railing encircling the tower, you begin to draw upon the power of your dragon stones and almost immediately the effects take hold. An explosion shatters the calm of the prison tower as the power of dragons erupts from within you.
Frightened by the sudden commotion Yorshka throws up her hands to shield her eyes from the blinding glare, but when at last she dares to look the sight that greets her steals her breath. Withered and faded though you may be, a far cry from the power dragons once held claim to, your new form is still one that commands a certain nobility.
As Yorshka stares transfixed you slowly raise your emaciated arms to the sky. Then from thin air appear a monstrous pair of ghostly dragon claws which mimic your actions. Swiping downwards in accord with your movements, the disembodied claws crash against the side of the tower and clutch to the railing behind you.
Soon after an equally massive dragon head materializes in the air behind you. Raising your head to the sky, you bellow a faltering roar to the darkmoon. The ethereal dragon head mimics your movements and belches a torrent of flame high into the air. It’s own cry easily drowns out your own, the faded echo of the dragons’ majesty still far outshining your mimicry.
Eyes twinkling with reflected dragonfire, Yorshka gazes on at the display with undisguised awe until the archdragon mirage finally dissipates.
The draconic illusion fades and you stand alone, a pale imitation of a majesty you could never approach. But even so Yorshka remains transfixed by you, gazing on as though she beheld one of the everlasting dragons returned. Her look of childlike wonder is enough to make your heart flutter by its innocence and you can't help but wish to continue pleasing her.
Catching a glimpse of the bonfire you'd lit to link you to the tower another idea forms. Unable to form proper speech with your new form you simply hold up a claw to still your captain before she can say a word and bid her to wait.
Hands folded across her lap she watches on curiously as you climb atop the railing and spread wide your arms. Her look changes from wonder to terror as you allow yourself to fall backwards off the tower to plummet to the streets of Irithyll below.
You collide with the ground and as your body breaks so too does the illusion. Death comes quickly and painlessly and without missing a beat the darksign whisks your spirit away to be reborn from the flames.
Human once more you step out from the bonfire atop Yorshka’s tower and make your way around to where your captain’s seat is. As you round the tower you find that her seat is empty and a pang of panic takes hold of you for a moment.
That panic instantly transforms to mirth as your gaze lands upon Yorshka leaning over the railing frantically calling for you, her tail flitting back and forth in anxiety.
Barely suppressing a chuckle you make your way to her side as silently as possible. Coming up alongside her you place your hands upon the railing and lean over mimicking her own actions.
“A gorgeous view, is it not?”
Startled by your voice Yorshka whirls to face you, her eyes wide and disbelieving.
“Thou’rt… thou remains’t unbroken?” she observes in barely a whisper.
At last you can hold it back no longer and you allow a hearty laugh to escape you. Yorshka herself holds back a moment but soon joins you as she realizes the trick you'd played.
“Oh, how quickly I've forgotten. Thy wings be swift indeed, my dragon of the Darkmoon. T’was a magnificent display thou’st given, and most wondrous to behold. I thank thee dearly for thy kindness, and if thou wouldst ask a boon in return I shall not deny thee.”
You drop to a knee in fealty to the Darkmoon. “Your happiness is thanks enough.”
Her face lights up with the most genuine smile you've seen since the bell tolled and it warms even your ashen heart as the embers never could.
The smile soon becomes wistful as she turns her attention to the vast expanse of sky encircling the tower.
“Were it that I could fly as thee... I should dearly wish to leave this lonely prison, if even for a moment.”
As she gazes longingly at the stars you ponder her words. The longing in her voice pulls at your heart. Surely there must be something you might do for her. Perhaps…
“Captain Yorshka, would you fly with me?”
Even with your eyes to the floor you can feel her gaze upon you. What's more, you can feel the desperate hope in her eyes.
“Could I?”
She says it so meekly, as though asking for something forbidden.
“If you wish it, I will make it so.”
You feel a slight weight upon your shoulder, and at the edge of your sight you see the pale, frail hand of your captain resting there.
“My dear dragon, thy offer I humbly accept. I beg thee, take me and fly.”
You raise your hand to rest upon her own and lift your eyes to meet hers.
“Then it shall be so. Fire walk with me.”