Tok dropped the former sea dragon’s skull into a cardboard shoe box. He
dropped in a few teal scales which landed with a dull clatter on the cardboard bottom.
He threw in the dragon’s black speedo and situated the lid back into place. He scribbled
on the top with a maker, before slapping a photo of the dragon on the top. The sea
dragon stood on a beach in only his black speedo. His back was turned to the viewer as
he looked off to the side, showing off his head in profile. It was a photo of his last
moments of life in the world
He set the box aside, atop a pile of similar shoe boxes. Each one filled with theskulls, scales and personal effects of every single prey Tok had ever devoured. Almost
every box continued the skull and scales of some kind of dragon, though a few had partsof some other species that had caught his eye. He brushed the remaining bones, someveritable and assorted phalanges, off the desk and into a trash can beside him. They
clinked against the other bones and scales filling up the black plastic. The stout kobold
wrote on a sticky note; “Offload leftovers at night market tomorrow.”
Content, he hopped off his stool and onto the soft carpet of his workroom. His“workroom” was just the guest bedroom in his apartment. He waddled out into thenarrow hallway. To his left he could hear the clinking of dishes as twenty-three did hischores. Tok nodded. Very good, he thought. He waddled down the path to his right andcame to his living room. Tok crawled up the front of his plush reclining chair, legs
kicking in the air. Tok finally managed to squirm his way onto the plush chair. He spunaround and faced his TV. Tok palmed the arm of the chair. When he came up empty hescanned the living room, his eyes landing on the remote on the coffee table.
“Twenty-Three!” He barked, snapping his fingers. The sound stopped from thekitchen, and he heard the footsteps rapidly approaching.
“Designation: Twenty-Three reporting for your commander, master.” The golden
yellow eastern dragon stood to attention beside the chair. His soft snow cascaded down
his back and tail starting from his head and beard. The visor fitted to his head flashedcontinuous purple swirls in front of his eyes.
“Remote. Your master is already comfy.” Tok pointed to the small rectangle.
Twenty-three grabbed passed it to him and bowed.
“Is there anything else I may do for you, master?”“Yea. Footstool. Now.” Twenty-three dropped to his hands and knees that very
instant. He crawled up beside the chair, presenting his back. Tok kicked his paws up andrested them on the dragon’s back nestled in his soft fluffy fur. “Good boy.” Twenty-threesaid nothing. He remained as still as possible for his kobold master.
Tok clicked on the television and relaxed as he enjoyed the feeling of his dragon
underneath him.
“I think I’ll shave your head tomorrow. That fur of yours is too soft not to keep inyour box!”“My body is yours, my superior draconic lord.” He replied obediently. Tok figured
he could take the visor off tomorrow as well. Whatever identity Twenty-three had before
was now successfully scrubbed away, leaving a docile, obedient, servant in his place. Thedevice was the best thing those dragon bones had ever bought him. In time,Twenty-Three would take his proper place in Tok’s trophy collection, and the kobold
would be onto Servant Twenty-Four.