DRAGON BLOOD
Brett P. S.
Copyright © 2015 Brett P. S.
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE – RIPPING THE SKY
CHAPTER I – ANCIENT BLOOD
CHAPTER II – CHROMATIC MASTER
CHAPTER III – SECOND NATURE
CHAPTER IV – GOLD DRAGON
Prologue
Ripping the Sky
The Golden Serpent, Belegrath, stood on four powerful-clawed limbs that sunk into the ground under the weight of his scaly body. His eyes scanned outward into a sea of fire and blood. Corpses of his people lay as mangled, charred flesh across a torn countryside. Heavens forbid this fight should enter one of the great cities.
“You cannot hide from my sight,” he whispered in human tongue.
From beyond a wall of searing fire, a draconic visage emerged, clad in red scales. Its face, bony and rigid like the spines running across its back as it stomped closer. Its feet ground the earth as it walked. Its claws defiled the bodies of those who fell. Its name was Ghetalt, an ancient enemy.
“You speak their language,” it said in draconic. “You drink of their wine. You even take their form at times.”
“Mortals carry their own strength,” he replied. “You would never understand.”
“Mortals are good at one thing, kin. They are good at dying.” The red dragon took a claw and scooped up a patch of earth holding up a half-covered corpse. “If you want one so badly, then take it.”
“That’s enough!” Belegrath shouted as fire surged up in his throat.
With a roar the sound of thunder, he blew a storm of fire and smoke at Ghetalt, and it hissed as it tossed the pile of land aside, flying into the sky on chromatic wings. Belegrath looked up to see a body soaring through the clouds, tearing through the heavens for a moment’s pause before swooping down. He moved as fast as he could, but his body was too slow, and the beast rammed him into the dirt. His scales tore from the friction and carved the soil as Ghetalt drove him across the countryside. Ghetalt slammed him into the earth and bit down with white fangs soon covered in red blood.
Belegrath reached up with both his limbs and grinded his claws into its sides, ripping flesh from bone. The monster screamed, but it only bit down harder. The force bit through something deep this time. He choked from the pain and tried to spring a stream of fire, but the red dragon pierced his lungs with its fangs. He laid on his back, gazing into the tyrant’s eyes, a death stare he couldn’t escape. Belegrath’s world grew dim. He could hear the armies marching from the seven kingdoms. Man’s hope would be enough to finish what he began. He was sure of it. While the thought floated in his mind, his eyes closed for the final time.
Chapter I
Ancient Blood
Markell Adler. Aspiring physicist from the Great Eastern Kingdoms. University student. Markell sat quietly on an observation bench while he waited for the doctor to meet with him. Miles and miles for a prick in the arm and a Gods-awful wait. The sun would rise sooner.
The office in which Markell sat was about fifteen feet by fifteen feet, with no windows to the outside. He’d been examining the chips in the green painted walls and counting the lumps. Whoever the architect may have been, he must have ran over it with a brush full of gravel.
The door on the far end of the room opened and Markell turned to see a tall, thin man in a white coat and black cap step inside. His back stood up straight, and his posture was rigid as he made his way over to a nearby corner and sat down on a swivel chair. Next to him hung a desktop computer suspended by a pole that ran through the ceiling.
“Good evening,” the doctor said.
“The same,” Markell replied.
The doctor set a clipboard down beside him and began typing in information as he frequently glanced back to the data written on the papers attached to it. A few minutes of filling out the data and he rocked back.
“You can call me doctor Rivers,” he said. “I’m the individual in charge of this program.”
“Did you get what you needed from me?” Markell asked.
“Mostly,” he said. “The concentration of dragon ancestry in your blood is incredible. More than our department chair.”
“I don’t feel any more dragon than I ever did.”
“Yes, well your numbers are still relatively low in comparison to an actual dragon. You’re at about 2.657 percent, give or take. In order to feel anything, you’d need to develop your connection to that ancestry.”
“I’m not interested in that, doctor. Do you have what you need?”
“Mr. Adler…” he said with a pause. “Mr. Adler, your ancestry seems to be the oldest on record. I’d like to examine a larger sample of your blood, if you don’t mind.”
“By all means,” Markell said.
Doctor Rivers stood up and stepped over to his workstation, grabbing an elastic band from the top left cupboard. He wrapped it around Markell’s arm and gestured for him to form a fist.
“More than anything, I’d like to know which dragon spawned your lineage.”
“Does it matter which one?” Markell asked.
“Well…” he said with a pause as he grabbed a clean needle and syringe. “Yes and no. Our department chair strongly supports identification of the dragon form. I may be heading this program, but I answer to him.”
“Who is the department chair?”
“Bernard Raines, though people sometimes call him by another name.”
“What’s that?”
“The Chromatic Master.”
Chapter II
Chromatic Master
Markell stepped out of the examination office with a bandage strewn out across his arm from the blood work. He clutched it hard with his other hand. The Doctor took a little too much this time around, but he’d been worse off. Just a little lightheaded was all.
The area outside the office was a spacious laboratory. A ceiling to match arched upward, with stained glass depictions of dragons and people. This place used to be a church for one of the three western kingdoms. These people are poor scientists. They take their work too religiously for something as ancient as dragon’s blood. He didn’t take five steps more, however, before a man in a formal burgundy business suit shouted at him from across the laboratory.
“Stop right there!” he yelled.
The businessperson took a step forward before he vanished in a wisp of smoke, reappearing inches from Markell’s face. His fist gripped Markell’s collar with a tight grip like the jaws of an angry dog chomping down. Markell peered into his eyes. The pupils ran straight from top to bottom, like cat eyes.
“Ah, good morning chairman,” Doctor Rivers said, stepping out.
“Get your hands off me!” Markell said.
His hands maneuvered around Bernard’s fist in an attempt to grasp and remove it, though he hardly had an effect at all. He struggled in vain attempts to force the hand from him.
“Is this boy the one?” Bernard asked.
Doctor Rivers gave a nod and sighed.
“Please try not to wreck our lab equipment this time.”
“Understood,” Bernard said. “Adler, we’re going to have a chat upstairs.”
“Uh, there’s only one floor,” Markell replied.
Bernard gestured up toward the stained glass roof and crouched down in preparation. Seconds later, Markell felt the force of lifting off, and the dynamic entry made his world go dark as the blood shook in his head.
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Chapter III
Second Nature
Markell’s eyes opened gradually to a rising red sun creeping over the horizon. The air blew around him with thick and frigid winds, and it wasn’t until he sat up that he realized he was on the roof of the chapel. Bernard was around here, somewhere. This was ridiculous. Dragons think they can do whatever they please.
“I see you are awake.”
“How long was I out of it?”
Markell tried to stand, though it came with some difficulty. Gradually, he eased up onto two legs and wrapped his arms across his chest to build up some warmth.
“I should have given you time to recover from your weakened state. An ordinary human would have survived the leap intact.”
“Hey, I’m in one piece, aren’t I?”
“Dragon ancestry only wanes you know,” Bernard said. “Some families try to preserve it, but centuries prove them wrong.”
“Dragons don’t matter anymore and neither does the ancestry in my blood … nor yours.”
No sooner than the words left his lips, Markell felt the firm grip of a hand around his throat. It didn’t choke him, not yet anyway, but the grip tightened by the second.
“You are a fool Adler,” Bernard said, grinning. “Do you believe I’ve been speaking the common tongue this whole time?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You can’t even discern the difference. It’s that strong within you. Second nature.” Bernard threw him down onto the rooftop pavement. “Fight me.”
“I…I can’t fight you. You’re practically a super hero.”
Bernard stared at his palm while Markell struggled to regain his footing a second time.
“I don’t know why, Adler, but when I’m around you, my blood boils. You must fight me, or else I’ll kill you.”
“Easy now,” Markell said, forming a defensive stance. “I don’t know what good I’ll…”
He began his sentence right before the force of a rock slammed into his face. The blow sent a sharp pain through his neck and pushed him back a few feet as his shoes skidded on the roof. Markell managed to stop his sliding, and it was a good thing too. Looking behind, his heels stopped short of the roof’s edge. It was so high, looking down gave him a case of vertigo. He managed to notice doctor Rivers standing just outside the entrance to the chapel though. He was waving a clipboard with a stack of papers.
“Chairman!” he shouted.
Bernard strode over and peered off the edge.
“What?”
“The results came back. It’s a definite match. Gold dragon.”
Bernard stepped away from the ledge and turned to face Markell with draconic eyes and a death stare he couldn’t escape.
Chapter IV
Gold Dragon
Markell backed off, taking care not to lose his footing while he slid across the edge of the chapel roof. The death stare of the Chromatic Master pierced his heart and made his hands cold as the blood pooled away from his extremities. Fight or flight turned on, and Markell scanned the area for a place to retreat to, though he only saw two modes of exit. Either he could jump through the stained glass or he could jump off the roof.
“It all makes sense now, Belegrath,” Bernard said.
“Excuse me?”
“You shirk your dragon heritage just like in the old times.”
“I think you have me mistaken for someone else. Please, calm down for a second.”
“There is no mistake,” he said. “I will slay you and fulfill the wishes of my great ancestor who lives through me. The last gold dragon will die. Time will dwindle the rest of his blood to a forgotten memory.”
The Chromatic Master raised a fist and threw a punch, but this time, there was no connection. No sudden cross of distance. Markell watched as his foe stood a few feet away with an arm outstretched. A rumbling sickening feeling welled up inside his gut and overflowed. He bent over and vomited a mixture of stomach fluid and blood from the force of the blow.
“You have twice the blood I do, but look at you,” Bernard said. “You’re useless. A waste of flesh and bone.”
He zoomed in with a powerful hook to the rib cage that sent Markell rolling away from the edge of the roof, and without a moment to recover two hands shoved his face into the pavement. His skin grinded down to a red rash, and the push ripped hair from his eyebrows.
Markell picked himself up, clutching his rib cage in an effort to quell the sharp pains running across his chest. He scanned the rooftop to see the sun halfway vanished over the horizon. A deep red hue colored the clouds, and Bernard walked into view. His burgundy suit complemented the sunlight, and for a split second, Markell thought he saw the face of a red dragon glaring at him. His eyes kept drooping, and it was all he could do to take a knee.
“How does it feel to be human, Belegrath?” Bernard said. “Do you feel strong now?”
Bernard readied the final blow as he drew up a fist and clenched it tightly. He pulled it back for a hard right aimed at Markell’s skull, but right before he could follow through, the color sapped away from the world around him. Time stopped as the red sun turned gray.
“Can you hear me now?” a deep voice said.
“I…I don’t understand. What’s going on here?”
“You crave mortality, but to survive this, you will need the strength of immortal blood.”
“So, you must be this Belegrath he keeps talking about.”
“Indeed. I am your great ancestor. Take the power of my fires, and end this conflict.”
“Just so we’re clear, I don’t want anything you have to offer. After this is done, so are you.”
“The draconic age came to an end centuries ago. This poor fool desperately latched onto a fading memory.”
“Well, that’s something we agree on.”
Color bled back into his surroundings and time resumed its steady course, but Markell saw the deathblow coming. He tilted his head to the side in time to avoid a fatal strike and grabbed the arm before the Chromatic Master could pull it back. Somehow, his grip had gotten stronger, because he kept holding on. Markell exhaled and a stream of fire poured out of his mouth, burning the burgundy suit’s sleeve and boiling the flesh beneath.
Bernard drew back, cradling his arm for a moment while his dragon eyes glared at Markell. He let the injured arm drop to the side and rushed in with the other. Markell smiled. Like a moth, he thought. He shouted, and the sound that came out was the booming roar of a dragon’s fiery breath and smoke that charred the Chromatic Master in one wave. After the sight of his enemy’s charred remains, Markell laid down on the roof pavement and let his eyes wander up into red clouds. He could hear the wheels of local law enforcement heading his way from across town.