In which spirits are finally high

That night the two of them slept, their dreams filled with visions of their new lives. Jezebel’s dreams were filled with suitor after suitor throwing themselves at her, praising her beauty, pouring their love out upon her. The dragon saw himself as the envy of the dragon world, his scales sparkling in the sun. Life would be fantastic.

The sun rose as the sun tends to do in the morning, and Jezebel yawned, feeling the sensations in her new face. She softly roused the dragon and prepared for the journey home. The spell book was tucked gently into her updated dress (she wasn’t sure how it managed to fit, but it did), the circle was erased, and camp was broken.

The minotaur was glad to see the two travelers he had been forced to escort home were ready to leave, although he couldn’t help but notice their transformation. Jezebel, he thought, looked much prettier. Her dress was whole and purple, her lashes long, and her hair a wonderful straw color. However, the long lashes and golden hair did not sit so prettily on the dragon. He had to admit to himself though, that any color of scale was an improvement for the dragon, and purple was no exception. He laughed to himself to see the dragon prancing around as if he ruled the world, a peacock on display and ready to be worshipped. What a pathetic creature the dragon was.

In which spirits are finally high

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