The perfect servant.
Rage rose within me, as cold and all-encompassing as the bleakness all around me. My power lashed the air in a dark wave, destructive and wild, the way it tore apart everything in its path bringing me at least a brief moment of satisfaction.
It was short-lived. He had not come. Deep within, I must have harbored a desperate, foolish hope that he would. Yet even my brother resented my presence now.
In the cold, I learned, tears froze to glittering ice crystals.
I built myself a home over time, a simple abode made of stone and ice that kept at least the ravaging winds at bay. While I worked, my mind churned. That is the thing about a rebellious mind: it can never be truly quieted. It always finds a way. Eventually.
The Allfather had denied me the power of true creation, allowing us only to give life to creatures born from his thoughts first. Another of those senseless limitations he had put upon us. One I did not plan to adhere to. A self-satisfied smile lifted my lips as I reached for strands of Darkness in the fabric of the world around me to weave them into a small shape. A lithe body with leathery wings, carried by four muscular legs, the creature’s tail double the length of its torso, the elegant neck ending in an angular, reptilian head. My shadows sculpted every detail, every single scale covering the little thing, from its tiny claws to the curved horns rising from its forehead.
It was perfect—fierce yet beautiful, fitting snugly into my lefthand. But no breath lifted its chest, no beat moved its heart. It remained dark and motionless.
I did not possess the Flame of Creation. But that did not mean I had not found another way to create life.
With a single thought, the nails of my right hand elongated into claws. A swift, decisive motion slashed my arm; blood dripped down in a dark red flood, steaming as it hit the ground, a vivid contrast to the snow.
As the blood flowed, I directed it toward the creature, watching as the crimson liquid seeped into its form. Too often had I reached this point only to fail once more. Yet I had never been as daring as today. I had come to understand that true creation demanded a part of myself. Demanded taking risks.
The Veil between worlds was thin here in the north. It took only a fraction of my magic to tear it open and reach for the strands of Chaos magic twisting in the Other just beyond. A gasp escaped me, not from pain but from the sudden influx of power, a thrumming pulse between my hands. I watched with bated breath as red and gold swept over scales, and the creature lifted its head, its slitted eyes blinking back at me.
Triumph awakened within me as the small thing stretched and unfurled its wings. I had done it. I had created life. And in that moment, I knew that nothing could stop me from achieving my goals. The Allfather’s restrictions were nothing more than obstacles to be overcome, and I would not rest until I had shattered every one of them.
The creature growled, tiny fangs gleaming white as it lunged at my thumb to gnaw at it. It startled a surprised laugh out of me, the hoarse sound echoing in the stillness of my icy abode.
“Ferocious little thing,” I said, scratching it behind one horn. “I shall name you Silvestri, the untamed one. The very first dragon.”
Silvestri grew quickly, aided by my magic, soon forcing me to expand our small shelter into a spacious cave. I made brothers and sisters to keep him company, their snarls echoing in the cavern, their multicolored scales in green, blue, and red glittering in the pale winter sun when we went outside. Watching them tumble over each other in their mock fights and witnessing their first graceless attempts to take flight held a simple joy. They were already bigger than me. In a few more years, their wings would darken the sky, a sight both glorious and terrifying.
I should have known it wouldn’t last, of course. That the Allfather would not let my open disobedience stand. Yet with each passing year, I grew more self-assured, believing I would get away with my little trick.
Why he waited so long to confront me, I never knew. Perhaps because time meant nothing to beings like us, or maybe he wanted his punishment to feel more severe after lulling me into a false sense of security.
“How dare you. Does your disobedience know no bounds?”
If I had thought the Allfather’s wrath terrible before, it was nothing compared to the fury he rained down on me this time. My corporeal form dissolved under the onslaught as my dragons’ terrified shrieks filled our cavern.
“You will destroy these creatures. They are corrupted by Chaos. We cannot allow them to live, for they will taint our entire creation.”
The command tore into my mind. I scrambled to remake my body, kneeling on the icy ground.
“No.” The scream building inside me emerged as a whisper, thepower pressing me down too oppressive to allow it to escape. Panic surged up within me. I had to make him look at them, see how beautiful they were, how much potential there was in my ideas…
“If you don’t destroy them, I will.”
The images the Allfather sent to me were a horrifying array of pain and fire, once elegant shapes twisting in endless torment. The sight of my beloved creations writhing in agony was more than I could bear.
“Destroy them, Belekoroz.”The Allfather’s voice in my head was relentless.“Or they will burn.”
I raged and screamed against the order, but there was no mercy.
In the end, I gathered all of them around me. Silvestri lay his massive head on my lap, while the smaller of his brethren pressed against his mighty flank. They remained calm as my shadows crept into the cave, used to the touch of my magic. I scratched the spot beneath Silvestri’s curved horn like I had done countless times. A deep rumble went through his body, his eyes closing in bliss.
The shadows grew darker, their movements more purposeful. I acted swiftly, knowing my resolve could falter at any moment. They did not deserve to suffer for my weakness when I had already condemned them with my disobedience.
One sharp gesture. The cracking sound of dozens of necks snapping.
A shudder went through Silvestri’s great body, his golden eyes flaring open in sudden pain before dimming forever. The look in them seared itself into my memory. Disbelief. Betrayal. He had trusted me, and I had failed him.
