The Dragonborn of Raymonds High

Awakening

The Ferrari tore down the road; Richard floored it to two hundred miles per hour and didn’t slow for the curves. Watching Jones, still unconscious, Richard gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles left white marks.

The car finally pulled up at a villa on the outskirts.

********

Blood-red runes bloomed with a crimson light. Crystal pillars connected to eight iron chains, each as thick as a waist, which locked onto Jones’s limbs. Thirteen air conditioners roared at full blast, blasting ice water and cold air to lower his body temperature.

A savage aura radiated from Jones. Blood boiled in him like a furnace; he snarled like a beast and let out feral roars.

Richard watched from the side, fingers tightening around his black umbrella. “Child, this must come from you. If you endure it, you’ll be reborn.”

When a dragonborn’s blood awakens, a violent trigger can provoke the first awakening. If it succeeds, one is reborn; if it fails, one becomes a mindless beast. By Richard’s family creed, anyone who failed the awakening was dealt with — eliminated.

Memories flooded Jones’s mind: a childhood crushed by foster parents, the sting of classmates’ insults and bullying, Henry’s betrayal and frame-up, and Katherine’s treachery. Grief and bitterness braided into a molten rage. His last vestiges of reason were being burned away.

Only one thought remained clear: he had to hold on.

He would have his revenge — on those who jeered at him, those who framed him, and the lover who betrayed him. He must survive this baptism of blood to fulfill that vengeance.

Gradually, the meaningless howls ceased. He felt the fury inside harden into ice, leaving only a cold hunger for retribution.

As the sun sank and the moon rose, Jones opened his eyes again.

“Katherine, Henry — wait… wait for me.” The muscles along his body flexed; the eight heavy chains snapped at once.

“Master.” Richard bowed respectfully. By the Dragon Covenant, when Jones completed his blood awakening he would automatically become one of the dragonborn family’s heirs.

“Richard, ready everything for me. It’s time to make my enemies tremble.” After the awakening, the dragon’s inheritance revealed truths to him: he was dragonborn, born to a three-hundred-year lifespan, blessed with extraordinary strength and a fearsome physique.

“As you wish, Master.” Richard bent to obey.

“No — where’s Bob? He was with me. Richard, where’s that big guy who was with me? He was badly hurt, I remember.” Jones’s golden eyes bored into Richard. More than vengeance, Jones worried about his friend.

“Bob?” Richard paused, then answered plainly and coldly, “I didn’t bring him back. Our dragonborn secrets cannot be revealed to ordinary humans.”

“So you left him to Henry? Left him there alone? Henry will vent all his fury on Bob! Richard, how could you let him stay in danger!” Jones’s voice was frantic.

“With respect, Lord,” Richard replied calmly, “he’s an ordinary human. Compared to our long-lived dragonborn, he is lowly and insignificant. Even if he helped you, that isn’t justification for rescuing him specifically. The situation was urgent; my priority was to secure your safety. Getting you away increased your chance to survive.”

Dragonborn live nearly three centuries; their bodies are hardy and resistant to disease, and many consider themselves ennobled above humans. Richard was one of them.

No sooner had he finished speaking than his vision blurred. Jones’s form was suddenly in front of him. Jones’s anger had overflowed his control; sparks of flame danced around him. The roaring heat stung Richard.

Jones faced him, voice cold. “Richard, remember: he’s my friend, not the lowly human you described. I won’t say it again — put away that superiority of yours. I think of myself as human, just a slightly different kind of human.”

“I deeply apologize for my words, my honored lord.” Richard bowed deeply.

“Where is Bob now?” Jones swallowed his anger and asked, taking a steady breath.

“Wait — I’ll check.” Richard spun to a computer and began hacking into the city surveillance network. Quickly, he pulled the feeds and found the answer.

“Mr. Bob is at the police station, and…” Richard’s face lost color.

“And?” Jones demanded.

“His condition looks grim.” Richard shook his head. From the footage, Henry and his gang had unleashed their fury on Bob.

*******

The Ferrari screeched to a halt outside the police station, tires screaming.

Jones barely waited for the car to stop before bursting inside to demand Bob’s situation. Reality hit him like a blow.

“I’m sorry, sir. The man named Bob is being investigated for theft of valuable property and intentional injury. You cannot visit him.” The officer’s voice was frosty.

“This is a frame!” Jones protested. “Bob is innocent — he’s the victim.”

The officer shrugged. “Who can say? We’ll find out during questioning.”

A higher-ranking officer then approached, his uniform marking him as a sergeant. “I’m Officer James. What’s going on here? It seems related to a theft by someone named Bob?”

“Bob isn’t a thief. I can post bail for him,” Jones said.

“No, no.” Officer James smirked, eyes fixing on Jones like a hunter on prey. “Young Master Henry sends his regards — and he arranged something for me to carry out.”

“Henry?” Jones’s face turned cold.

“This is the first time a suspect has barged into the station himself,” James said. “Per Henry’s instructions, I’m to entertain you. This is my turf; even if I killed you, I have a thousand ways to avoid culpability.” His look grew dangerous and sly.

Jones’s reply was thinly veiled fury. “I’ll have lawyers on this. You’ll be the one hauled into court.”

“Lawyers?” James laughed and stared at Jones. Night had fallen and the officers on duty were James’s cronies, men he had already colluded with. They understood at a glance and quietly turned off their body cams and the surveillance.

Now…

No evidence would be recorded. No one would investigate further.

After all, how many would care about a poor kid going missing?