Chapter 27
- Vyrathion -
It’s a rock. Black and angular, grainy and ugly.
But it’s heavy. And there’s a seam. A thick seam of something… wonderful.
The rock is warm. Warm from her body.
From Morgan’s body. That’s her heat I’m feeling.
I smash the rock on the head of a nearby enemy, cracking both open.
The rock splits down the middle and I stare into the center of it.
“Oh yes,” I sigh. “Finally.”
It’s gold. Pure and raw, still attached to the worthless granite and quartz around it. But it’s gold.
And it’s enough.
The heat from it floods through me.
For several heartbeats I can do nothing except stand there and feel it.
The little nugget is hardly a treasure by dragon standards.
If I had seen it a century ago, I might not even have bothered to pick it up.
Yet the moment my claws close around it, something ancient and wounded inside me finally begins to heal.
The sensation is relief.
Years of weakness start cracking apart inside me.
Years of hiding from enemies. Years of accepting humiliations that should never have touched a dragon.
Years of being diminished, trapped in a form that never quite fit.
The wounds covering my body suddenly seem distant and unimportant, as though they belong to somebody else.
A tribesman charges me with a sword. The attack barely registers. I notice him only because the sword strikes my shoulder and snaps in half. The warrior stumbles backward, staring at the broken blade in disbelief.
I laugh. The sound comes out deeper than it should. It vibrates through my chest and seems to shake the air around me. Several nearby warriors recoil immediately, and I realize that my voice is already changing.
More heat pours through me. The nugget should not be enough. Any dragon would tell you that. There isn't enough gold here to support a proper Change. There isn't enough mass. There isn't enough value.
Yet somehow it works. As the realization forms, another thought follows close behind.
Morgan found this. Morgan carried it. Morgan saw me dying and gave it away without hesitation.
For a moment the battlefield fades into the background. I remember her standing in front of me in the jungle, refusing to obey. I remember the tears she tried to hide. I remember every ridiculous argument about gold, dragons, monsters and hoards.
She could have kept this nugget. She could have traded it. Hidden it. Saved it.
Instead she threw it to me.
The thought settles deep inside me just as the Change truly begins. My bones crack.
The sound echoes across the hillside. Warriors nearest me immediately retreat several paces, glancing at one another with growing alarm. Then the cracking continues. It spreads through my entire body as joints shift and lengthen into their proper places.
I straighten instinctively. The world already seems smaller. My shoulders broaden. My spine lengthens. Fresh scales erupt across my body like armor being forged from living metal. Golden light races beneath them, illuminating every seam and edge.
A chief points toward me and begins shouting orders. I hear the words. I simply don't care.
The transformation surges forward with glorious violence. Muscles swell. Claws lengthen. My tail bursts free behind me, scattering warriors in every direction. One unfortunate fool is struck squarely by the growing limb and vanishes into the crowd with a scream.
The jungle itself seems to recoil. Trees bend away from me. Branches snap. Roots tear loose from the earth. The hillside groans beneath my increasing weight. Every heartbeat makes me larger, stronger and more complete.
For years I have dreamed of this. For years I have feared that I might never experience it again. Now the Change consumes me completely.
“Yesss!” a bright voice exclaims, sending strength through me. “Look at him goooo!”
My wings erupt from my back with enough force to send warriors sprawling. The sound resembles a storm tearing through a forest canopy. Hundreds of tribesmen throw themselves to the ground. Others simply stare upward in frozen disbelief as the vast membranes unfold and catch the sunlight.
The final remnants of my lesser form disappear. I settle onto four massive limbs and draw a deep breath.
Then I roar. The sound rolls across the jungle.
Leaves explode from distant trees and cascade from the canopy. Warriors clutch their ears and stumble backward. For a few seconds nobody moves at all.
Then panic takes them. The army dissolves. Swords hit the ground. Warriors collide with one another in their desperation to escape. Men who had been brave enough to charge a moment ago suddenly abandon every trace of dignity and flee blindly into the jungle.
The chiefs run first. A sensible decision.
I lower my head and watch them scatter. Part of me wants to hunt them down. Part of me wants to burn entire tribes to ash. The old anger is still there, waiting patiently beneath my scales.
But another feeling is stronger: Freedom.
I spread my wings fully and feel the air catch beneath them.
A powerful gust sweeps across the hillside, knocking warriors from their feet and flattening patches of grass.
The world feels impossibly small now. The tribes.
The jungle. The mountains. Even the battlefield that seemed so important only moments ago.
With a single leap, I launch myself skyward. The ground falls away beneath me.
Air rushes across my scales. Sunlight gleams from my wings. Every beat of my heart feels stronger than the last. For the first time in years, I am what I was always meant to be.
Below me, the tribes scatter in every direction. And somewhere on that hillside stands Morgan.
The female who chose strangers over safety. The female who defied me when obedience would have been easier. The female who followed her own convictions despite every danger around her.
The female who gave a dragon gold when he needed it most.
I climb higher, laughing as the wind rushes past me. The sound rolls across Xren like thunder.