Draven Ashborne's Arc

Chapter 1 of 17

Draven Ashborne dropped his two-handed sword the moment his hands began to shake. He knew this feeling. The elder dragon's blood in his veins was waking again. Black scales crept up his forearms. His red eyes burned hotter, and the horns on his head ached like they wanted to grow. If he did not stop it, he would lose himself and kill anyone near. That was why he hunted the elder dragon. Kill it, and the curse would die too. He stumbled into the yard of the forest home where he had been staying. A wolf with sweeping antlers and silver wings backed away from him, growling. The winged cat by the door hissed and fled under the porch. Even the animals knew what was coming. Draven fell to his knees beside the great tree with orange petals and blue flowers. He dug his claws into the dirt to keep from moving. His breath came out as smoke. "Draven. Look at me." Seraphina Frostscale stepped between him and the fleeing animals. She was like him, part dragon, with white hair and blue eyes and horns of her own. But she had never lost control. She had learned to rule her nature. She had taken him in when the villagers wanted him gone, and she was the only one who did not flinch now. "Get back," Draven said. His voice cracked into a snarl. "I can't hold it." "You can." She knelt close, well inside his reach. One swipe could have torn her open. She did not move. "Breathe with me. In. Slow." He swung at her. Her hand caught his wrist before the claws landed. Ice spread from her fingers across his scaled arm, cold and sharp. The burning in his blood cooled where the frost touched. He gasped and stared at her. "The dragon wants you angry," she said. "So don't give it anger. Give it this yard. The tree. Me. Things worth staying human for." Draven forced his eyes to the tree, the petals, her steady face. He counted his breaths. Slowly the scales sank back beneath his skin. The horns stopped aching. His hands were his own again. He slumped forward, drained, his sword lying in the grass. "That was worse than last time," he said. Seraphina did not smile. She reached into her robe and drew out a collar of dark metal, marked with glowing runes. "I made this. It binds a dragon's power. Wear it, and the change can't take you." She held it out. "But it will bind all of it. Your strength too. You won't be able to fight the elder dragon while you wear it." Draven looked at the collar, then at his shaking hands. To reach the dragon, he needed his power. To survive the journey, he needed it caged. He took the collar and closed his fist around the cold metal. "Then I'll find a way to have both," he said.