Blood of the dragon I :Dark encounter

Chapter 2

The Fire That Follows

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Kael ran until his lungs burned and his thoughts shattered into fragments.

Roots clawed at his boots. Branches tore at his cloak like grasping hands. The forest seemed to close behind him, fog sealing his path as if it meant to erase his passage—or keep him inside.

The horn sounded again.

Closer this time.

Kael swore and pushed harder, his body moving faster than it ever had before. Too fast. His strides lengthened unnaturally, each step carrying him farther than it should have. The air burned in his chest, yet exhaustion refused to come.

Do you feel it?

the voice murmured, calm amid the chaos.

The blood remembers how to flee death.

“Shut up,” Kael rasped.

He burst through a wall of brush and skidded to a stop at the edge of a ravine. The ground dropped away sharply, a narrow river roaring far below. No bridge. No path down.

Behind him, the forest echoed with armored footsteps.

Steel on bark.

Voices barking orders.

“Spread out! He’s wounded!”

Kael laughed—a sharp, broken sound.

“Not anymore,” he muttered.

His fingers dug into the dirt as panic surged. He had seconds. Maybe less. Jumping meant death. Staying meant worse.

Heat flared again—hotter than before.

Kael cried out as pain lanced through his shoulders, sharp and splitting, like bones trying to remember a shape they no longer possessed. His vision blurred, the world tinged red and gold.

Enough running.

They will not stop.

“I’m not a weapon,” Kael snarled.

No.

You are a vessel.

The first soldier broke through the trees, sword raised, eyes widening at the sight of Kael cornered at the ravine.

“There!” the man shouted. “By the Flame—”

Kael turned.

Something ancient surged up through his chest—not rage, not fear, but command.

The fire answered.

It burst from his mouth in a roar of heat and light, a stream of living flame that swallowed the soldier mid-cry. The scream lasted half a heartbeat before it cut off, replaced by the hiss of burning armor hitting stone.

The forest fell silent.

Kael staggered backward, choking, the taste of ash thick on his tongue.

“I didn’t—” His voice broke. “I didn’t mean to—”

More soldiers emerged, frozen in place now. Fear rippled through their ranks.

“Dragonspawn,” one whispered.

Kael’s hands shook as smoke curled from his fingertips. Beneath his skin, the scales pressed harder, clearer now, spreading like a secret he could no longer hide.

This is mercy.

They would have burned you alive.

The soldiers raised their shields.

“Loose!” the captain roared.

Arrows flew.

Kael threw up his arms on instinct.

The arrows struck—and fell.

They clattered harmlessly to the ground, their tips blunted, warped by heat that shimmered around him like unseen armor.

Kael stared.

So did the men.

Jump, the dragon said softly.

I will not let you fall.

Kael hesitated only a second.

Then he stepped backward and let the ravine take him.

The wind screamed past him. His stomach lurched as the world spun—

—and then the fire surged again, coiling through his spine, spreading outward.

Something unfurled.

He did not fly.

But he did not fall as a man should.

He struck the river hard, water exploding around him, but the impact did not break him. The current seized him, dragging him under, spinning him through darkness and stone.

When Kael finally clawed his way onto the riverbank downstream, he collapsed, coughing water and blood onto blackened scales that now marked his forearms unmistakably.

Above, far away, the horns sounded again—angrier now.

Kael lay there shaking, staring at his hands.

“I’m becoming a monster,” he whispered.

The dragon’s voice softened, heavy with something like regret.

No.

You are becoming a story the world tried to erase.

Kael closed his eyes.

And somewhere far beyond the forest, a witch stirred from her dreams—because the blood of the dragon had burned too brightly to go unnoticed.