Flameheart soul of the frozen King

Cold iron sliced through his soul before he even opened his eyes.

"Wake up, you worthless trash," Soren rasped out loud, but the throat that formed the words felt small, raw, and full of dry blood.

He forced his eyelids open. Above him was a small square of dark grey sky framed by tall walls of solid blue ice. Below him was a pile of frozen bodies. Pale faces, stiff arms, and wide, sightless eyes stared up at the freezing sky.

"Where am I?" Soren spat a red lump onto the snow beside him. He lifted his hands to his face. They were thin, covered in red scars, and shaking wildly from the cold. "This is not my body. This is not my castle."

Memory hit his mind like a heavy hammer. He was Soren Flameheart, a thirty-five-year-old hidden prince who had lived his whole life in secrecy, only to be executed in the dark by his own trusted knights. Death should have taken him to the void. Instead, memories that did not belong to him rushed into his brain.

"Soren Gray," he said aloud, testing the weak voice. "Seventeen years old. A low-tier tamer slave."

He looked down at his chest. He wore thin, ripped rags. The memory was clear now. The local clan lords had used thirty commoner boys as bait to wake up a dying dragon egg. The ritual failed, the magic exploded, and the soldiers threw the dead and dying boys into this deep ice pit like garbage.

"They tossed me away," Soren muttered, his jaw tightening. "They thought I was dead."

A loud screech ripped through the air above. The sound vibrated against the ice walls, shaking loose small clumps of white snow.

Soren turned his head fast. A heavy shadow fell over the pit, followed by a loud crash. A wild creature landed on a heap of frozen corpses just ten feet in front of him.

It was a frost drake. The beast stood six feet high, covered in rough white scales, with long black claws and pale yellow eyes that locked onto Soren with clear hunger. Cold fog blew from its dark nostrils with every breath.

"Get up!" Soren commanded his body out loud. "Move, get up right now!"

His legs wobbled. His knees gave out immediately, sending him face down into the frozen snow.

"Dammit," Soren swore, pushing his hands against a frozen shoulder beneath him. "This body is completely useless. There is almost no mana in these channels. I am completely empty."

The frost drake took a slow step forward, its sharp claws tearing through the frozen clothes of the dead. It raised its snout and let out a low, angry growl.

"You think I am an easy meal?" Soren called out, forcing his body to stand straight against the ice wall. He reached down and grabbed a thick, frozen bone from the pile, holding it like a small club. "Look at me, beast! I have killed creatures ten times your size before your bloodline even learned to walk!"

The drake did not stop. It whipped its heavy tail through the air, aiming straight for his head.

Soren dropped to his knees, ducking under the strike. The heavy tail smashed into the blue ice wall behind him, cracking the wall and sending sharp ice pieces flying across the pit.

"Too slow!" Soren yelled, gasping for breath. Pain flared up his ribs like hot fire. "My lungs are damaged. If I try to fight this thing with physical strength, I will die in ten seconds."

The drake turned around quickly, its long tail tearing up snow. It pulled its head back, opening its jaws wide. A bright blue light started gathering deep inside its throat, preparing a blast of freezing breath.

"Think, Soren, think!" he shouted to himself, wiping a line of fresh blood from his lip. "My body is weak, but my soul is thirty-five years old. My soul still knows the ancient language!"

He threw the bone onto the snow and took three heavy steps forward, walking straight toward the monster.

"By the blood of the first fire!" Soren shouted out loud. His voice rang against the high walls, carrying a deep, heavy power that did not belong to a teenager.

The drake stopped its breath attack. The blue light in its throat flickered. It tilted its head, looking confused by the voice coming from the small human.

"By the breath of the fallen dragon lords!" Soren yelled the second line of the ancient soul chant, stepping right into the beast's space. "Yield your mind to the royal line, or burn in the dark!"

A sudden sharp pain shot through Soren's chest. His damaged lungs screamed for air, and the last drop of his mana vanished. His head spun, and his vision turned blurry at the edges.

"Just one more line," Soren whispered through his teeth, blood dripping from his chin onto his chest. "Do not give up now. Hold on!"

The drake realized the danger and snapped out of its confusion. It let out a loud roar and lunged forward, opening its jaw to bite Soren's torso in half.

"Submit to me!" Soren screamed the final ancient command, thrusting his bare right palm directly onto the beast's icy snout.

A bright wave of golden light shot out from Soren's palm. The blast hit the drake like a iron door, stopping its jump instantly. The monster crashed onto the frozen floor, thrashing its body and beating its wings against the ice walls. It let out high, painful cries as Soren's ancient royal soul rushed into its mind.

"Listen to my voice!" Soren commanded, stepping forward and pressing his weight onto the beast's head. "Your mind belongs to me! Down!"

The frost drake stopped moving. Its rough white scales smoothed down, and its yellow eyes slowly faded to a deep, calm blue. The creature let out a low whine, lowering its head until its snout rested completely flat against Soren's boots.

Soren leaned his back against the cold wall, panting heavily. Cold sweat covered his face, freezing almost instantly against his skin.

"It worked," Soren breathed out, looking down at the quiet monster. "The ancient soul chant still works."

Before he could take another breath, a sharp, burning sensation hit his right hand. Soren pulled off his ragged cloth glove and stared. A glowing golden mark was burning itself deep into his flesh. It shaped itself into a detailed royal crown wrapped in dragon wings, shining brightly against the dark pit.

"No," Soren whispered, staring at his glowing hand in horror. "Not this mark. Not now. If any clan lord sees this royal sign, they will hunt me to the ends of the earth."

High above his head, the sound of heavy metal boots crunched against the top edge of the ice pit.

"Hey, did you hear that loud noise down there?" a rough voice shouted from above.

"Yeah, sounded like a wild drake screaming in the bait pit," a second voice answered from the top.

Soren wrapped his hand in his ragged sleeve fast, but the golden light was so bright it bled right through the dirty cloth. He looked up toward the sky.

Two guard helmets made of black iron leaned over the edge of the pit, looking down into the darkness.

"Look down there!" the first guard called out, pointing a long spear down at the pile of bodies. "The trash kid is still breathing! And he is standing right next to a tamed frost drake!"

"How is a low-tier slave still alive?" the second guard spat, drawing a long steel sword from his belt. "Hey, boy! Stand still! Lord Vane gave strict orders. None of you bait kids are allowed to leave this pit alive!"

"He is hiding something in his right hand!" the first guard yelled, his eyes widening in suspicion. "Look at that yellow light! Is that a high-tier magic stone?"

"I am coming down there to cut his head off!" the second guard shouted, grabbing a thick climbing rope attached to a wooden post above. "Hold the rope!"

Soren looked up at the two armored men. His body was completely empty of magic, his lungs were bleeding, and his right hand was burning with a forbidden royal mark that would get him killed by every clan in the world.

He looked at the tame frost drake resting at his feet, then back up at the guard sliding down the rope. A cold, dangerous smile appeared on Soren's blood-stained face.

"You want my head?" Soren called up to them, his voice calm, sharp, and icy cold. "Come down and try to take it."

The guard on the rope laughed, pushing off the wall to drop faster into the dark pit.