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 hillsidegroans 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.
28
- Morgan-
For several heartbeats nobody moves.
The battle seems to have exhausted itself all at once. Tribesmen who aren't fleeing stand staring upward with open mouths. The few surviving Plood stare upward too, their enormous black eyes fixed on the same point in the sky. Beside me, Beth, Quinn and Abigail still clutch their makeshift weapons, breathing hard and covered in dirt and scratches.
And above us, Vyrathion climbs into the evening sky.
I have seen Praxigor fly before. Back then I thought I understood what a dragon looked like in the air. Praxigor always seemed comfortable there, as though flying was simply another way of standing. Watching Vyrathion now makes me realize there is a difference between being comfortable and being overwhelmed with joy.
