A shadow slipped between the thick embrace of ancient leaves—twisting, shifting, lost to sight in a single blink. Where it vanished, crimson smoke hung in the branches, curling upward as if the forest itself remembered the trespass.
Somewhere beyond, Dravion's golden eyes tracked the trees. His pupils narrowed. Instinct tugged at him—soft, strange, unsettling. There's something out there… I know it, but why can't I see it?
"I smell blood…" His tongue ran slow along his lips, savoring the metallic bite that clung to the air.
Yet something sweeter drifted across the wind—a warmth, thick and fragrant, drawing his senses toward the left. The broken shell still lay beneath the tangled brush, jagged edges yawning wide, as if it had been waiting for him all along.
"Smells sweet…" His voice was barely more than breath.
His front paw moved before the thought finished. Heavy. Reluctant. But he could not resist the pull. Another step. Then another. Sniff… sniff… His nostrils flared, drawing in the scent until it filled him, thick as honey. Every nerve in his body lit up.
So good… I need it…
Without pause, his jaws opened—
CRACK!
The shell shattered beneath his teeth, brittle and sharp. The noise rippled through the clearing, a grinding screech like bones breaking on stone.
The taste was bitter at first—ash, then molten gold. Each bite sent light flaring beneath his scales, golden runes flickering to life, pulsing brighter, alive. Power poured into his veins, ancient and wild. His muscles tensed, his form stretched, body growing taller with every mouthful.
For a heartbeat, he forgot everything but the taste—until the final bite. Something broke loose in his mind, raw and violent. His eyes flew wide, and the forest slipped away.
Pain.
A memory split him open from the inside. Teeth as big as mountains, gnashing flesh—he could not tell if he was the devourer or the prey. Who… was I? Who did this to me? Why does it hurt? Hatred bloomed in his chest, black and absolute.
No. Not again…
"No… STOP!"
His wings snapped wide, black and massive, lashing the air as he threw himself from the vision's grip. Instinct took over. He launched skyward, blind, needing only to escape the memory burning through his skull.
He clipped the treetops, spinning out of control. Branches snapped, thunder rolled across the forest as his body tore a raw path through the canopy.
Don't eat me… anymore… Why!? WHY!?
He howled at the world, the cry torn out of him by old wounds he could not name, by a rage that belonged to a thousand lives.
He didn't know who had bitten him in that vision. He didn't care. All he wanted now was to destroy, to tear, to devour.
For twenty minutes he raged, the forest trembling with every crash. Trees splintered, earth buckled, and he tore southward through shadow, past ten kilometers of tangled roots and ragged stone, until the land grew wild and broken—jagged hills rising into the first spires of small mountains.
His left wing slammed into a boulder, wrenching him out of flight.
CRASH.
He hit the ground, rolling hard, carving a deep trench into the earth before coming to rest.
Grrrowwl…
The impact drew eyes—two beasts, crouched at a nearby spring. They were like tigers, but thrice the size, their white pelts marked with glowing blue stripes. Mana shimmered in their fur, rippling beneath the trees' filtered light.
They had been drinking at the spring, water so clear it glowed, its scent thick, ancient, magical.
As it washed over Dravion, something inside him quieted. The rage dulled. Pain faded.
That scent… it soothes me. Why? Like a song I used to know…
He drank deep, not of water, but of presence. Beneath the thirst, something else roused itself.
Dominance.
Dravion's golden gaze locked on the tigers. The bigger of the two—broad, scarred, one eye gone—stepped forward, power swelling in the air. Muscles tensed. The beasts didn't run; their territory was behind them, and they would not surrender it.
This is their spring. They'll die before they give it up.
Grrrrowl…
The sound came low and uncertain now, more defiance than promise. They stood their ground.
But Dravion did not flinch. He stood rooted, tail still, every fiber in his blood singing with a memory older than the forest.
He belonged here. To run would be to lose himself.
Heat built in his chest, molten, wild, so familiar yet so far from memory.
His lips parted.
HSSHHHHHHHH!
A golden torrent erupted from his jaws, blinding and furious, ripping through the trees like a god's own firestorm.
The air trembled. The beam grew tall and wide, engulfing the tiger. Its blue aura flared, desperate, fighting to hold back the flames. Mana clashed with fire, instinct against annihilation.
The second tiger, smaller, likely female, sprang forward—paws pounding the earth. But as Dravion's eyes fixed on her, her body collapsed beneath the weight of his gaze.
She froze. She could not move. Could only watch as golden fire devoured her mate.
Then she fell, all fours, head lowered—not in fear, but in surrender. The alpha's fate was sealed; the defense shattered, his body erased in a surge of light.
Not even ash remained.
The beam faded, drifting into golden wisps. Dravion staggered, breath ragged, his strength flickering, but the survivor never looked up.
She pressed her head to the earth, bracing for oblivion.
THMP… Crkkk… SQUELCH… THMP…
Heavy steps circled her. Claws scraped the roots, the weight of something ancient shifting in blood-soaked mud.
But death never came.
Silence, thick and total, wrapped the clearing.
At last, when she dared to lift her head, the dragon crouched beside the spring, drinking deep—not sipping, but devouring. Each gulp pulled the waterline lower, draining the pool at a pace that felt impossible.
Golden runes burned along his flanks, light so bright she had to look away.
RUMBLE!
A surge of golden mist burst from his scales. Runes blazed under his feet—an ancient circle thrumming like a heart.
The forest shook. Trees bent low. In that moment, the world felt something awaken—a presence that belonged to gods, not beasts.