Don’t fight it


He who fights too long against dragons becomes a dragon himself

Friedrich Nietzsche


Meet the Antiquarian

The Watcher introduced him as his very good friend, the Antiquarian.

Here was a totally different specimen of dragon, much smaller and slighter than the Watcher, only as tall as Sofia, with an almost featureless, scaly head. He had tiny, black eyes and no nose or snout, just tiny nostrils. His bland features were underlined by a wide mouth, fixed into a permanent smile. He was something like a toad until he closed his eyes and then he looked very much like a lump of rock. He blinked constantly.

Although Sofia had found robes in the Watcher’s chests, it never occurred to her that dragons would consider wearing clothes, but what the Antiquarian lacked in looks and height he made up for in the elaborate way he dressed. His suit was beautifully tailored to fit his small figure and to conceal the hunch of his shoulders, his barrel chest and spindly legs. He walked upright and wore riding boots, intricately stitched together from some exotic and unidentifiable skin.


Thumbs: Sofia in the Underworld
toad face_c