The Fiery Crown Cycle: A Dragon's Rebirth

Chapter 21

It was not a delusion. He had been bound.

Somehow, in the depths of his slumber, a contract had been forced upon him. The realization sent a fresh surge of fury through Aiden. Though the bond itself felt faint, almost negligible in its power to compel him, the sheer audacity of the act was an intolerable insult.

Who dares?

Flames began to lick at the edges of his scales, wreathing his head in a corona of crimson fire as his anger mounted. He fought it down. Rage was a tool, not a master. It would not solve this.

With a deep, controlled breath, the flames receded. He was calm again. First, he needed to understand the nature of this cursed bond.

He began a meticulous inspection of his own body. A dragon's long, serpentine neck made such a task simple. He raised his tail, examining every scale. Nothing. He scanned his back, his wings. Nothing.

Finally, after a thorough search, he found it. In the center of the palm of his right foreclaw, a sigil was etched into the thick, leathery pad. It was a faint, shimmering brand of a pentagram within a double ring.

The Draconic Heritage supplied the knowledge instantly. An Equal Contract.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, but it was not one of pure anger. It was the sound of cunning contemplation. His maw parted, revealing rows of sharp, white teeth in a predatory semblance of a grin. This contract was almost entirely without restriction. It bound two beings as peers, not as master and servant. The potential for manipulation was vast.

He padded forward and, with his left claw, delicately picked up the crystal. It was a high-tier fire magic crystal; its nature was obvious from the swirling orange flame contained within. A rather generous opening offer. His new, unwilling partner was clearly wealthy.

Aiden's red pupils narrowed. The Heritage also mentioned that the one who is summoned could, through such a bond, draw upon the summoner's own life force—their mana—to accelerate their own growth.

Perhaps… I can freeload off this connection.

The plan formed with crystalline clarity. He would siphon his partner's power, using their energy to fuel his own ascension. Once he was strong enough, he might deign to answer a summons. He would assess this mysterious contractor, and if they did not meet with his approval, he would simply kill them and sever the bond.

But first, he needed to assess himself. His growth-slumber was complete. How much stronger had he become?

He focused his will inward, calling upon the strange, innate insight that manifested as a ring in his left eye's vision. In his mind, he gave the command: Show me.

The ring flared, and a tapestry of information unfurled in his mind's eye.

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Name: Aiden

Rank: ☆☆

Growth Potential: ★★★★★★★★★★

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Attributes:

· Size Rating: 5

· Scale Rating: 6

· Stage: Wyrmling

· Mana: 1500 / 1500

Lineage:

Red Dragon (??)Abilities:

· Fire Breath (Dormant)

· Water Breathing

· Dark Vision

· Sky Flight

· Hardened Scales

· Source of Flame

· ??? (Dormant)

Spells:

· Fire Arrow

· Burst

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The advancement to the ☆☆ stage had brought a significant increase in power. His gaze, however, locked onto the abilities list. Source of Flame. That was new. He scanned the archives of his Blood Memory and found no mention of it. It was not a standard draconic ability. It had to be a unique talent, something all his own. The name alone suggested a profound connection to his element.

Grrrowwwl…

A loud protest from his stomach echoed in the silent cave. Aiden looked down at his concave belly. Analysis could wait. Sustenance could not.

He picked up the fire crystal again. He doubted it would satisfy his hunger, but there was only one way to find out. He tossed it into his mouth.

Crack. Crunch.

A pleasant warmth spread through his jaw as he chewed. The crystal itself was utterly tasteless. After a few moments, he swallowed it whole.

GRRROWWWL…

His stomach protested again, even louder this time. The crystal was not only unappetizing, but also completely unfulfilling. Starving, Aiden failed to notice a change. Within the empty ring in his left eye's vision, a thin red line had appeared.

He scanned the cave. The two younger wyrmlings were gone. He padded to the entrance platform and stepped out into the searing heat of the desert day. Waves of heat rose from the sand, distorting the landscape.

As a red dragon, the temperature was of no consequence to him. Still, looking out at the shimmering wasteland, he thought of Bianca. To hatch as a white dragon in such an inhospitable environment… she was truly unlucky. A Hatchling's growth was always accelerated in an environment that matched its nature.

Grumble.

His stomach again. He turned his gaze toward the river. Time to hunt.

With a powerful beat of his wings, he launched from the platform. He flew low, scanning the ground for any sign of prey. The land was barren. He saw nothing until the glittering line of the river appeared on the horizon. He hoped the herd of Thunder-horn Rams might be nearby. The thought of their thick, muscular legs made his mouth water.

But as he drew closer, his hopes faded. The riverbank was utterly desolate. He landed with a soft thud on the cracked mud. No prey on the shore meant he would have to check the water.

He plunged his head beneath the surface. The water was surprisingly clear, and with a dragon's superior vision, the world below was revealed to him in perfect detail. The riverbed was nearly two hundred yards down, carpeted with gently swaying weeds. And among them were fish. Hundreds of them. They were enormous carp, each easily three yards long, their beautiful, fan-like tails propelling their fat, silvery bodies through the water with lazy grace.

He scanned the depths. There were no other magical beasts. The Athrox they had killed must have been the sole predator of this domain. Without its presence, these fish had grown complacent.

Heh. A silent, cold laugh formed in his mind. Your joy is to be short-lived, little fish. Your new lord has arrived. He prepared to dive.

His powerful hind legs kicked off from the bank, and his body sliced into the water with a tremendous splash. He folded his wings and let instinct take over, his tail propelling him forward with speed and precision. He locked onto the largest carp he could see and surged after it.

The carp, which had been nibbling on weeds, seemed to sense the danger. With a single, explosive flick of its tail, it vanished, leaving Aiden chasing nothing but a swirl of water. It was impossibly fast.

Aiden froze, his tail ceasing its motion. Holy shit. What was that speed?

Perhaps that one was an anomaly. He would try another. He spotted a smaller, juvenile carp, barely two yards long. Small meant slow. Small meant easy.

He coiled and shot forward. The young carp looked up from its meal, saw the approaching predator, and with an identical flick of its tail, disappeared into the distance.

Aiden stopped again, floating in the empty water. The entire school of fish was too fast. It was impossible.

He lifted a foreclaw and made a gesture of profound draconic contempt toward the school of fish. Then, without a shred of wasted motion, he turned and swam for the surface. He would not squander any more time on a meal he could not catch.