Chapter Text
The chamber where the dragon was kept sealed away was cool and damp. It was built into the side of a mountain, well out of the way of the normal life of the nearby cities. Only members of the Order of the Silver Vow ever saw the inside of these walls.
As Zayne entered the dimly lit room, the guards closed the heavy doors behind him with a loud thud that echoed off the walls, leaving him to face this task on his own. He approached the massive stone slab on the opposite wall, etched with runes and exuding a menacing aura.
He stood before the wall of rock; firelight from the torches mounted on the wall dancing across his refined features. He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes, steadying himself.
It wasn’t he who should have been here to do this. He was a knight—he fought Wanderers and other such monsters to keep the people of the kingdom safe. He wasn’t the Order’s ritualist, but that man had fallen ill a week prior, and it was clear the seal confining the monster held within these walls was not going to wait for him to recover.
As such, the responsibility fell to Zayne. He was the only other person in the Order that was both proficient with magic and possessed an evol—both of which were required in order to strengthen the seal for the next ten years.
He let out the breath he was holding as he opened his eyes and began to recite the incantation that would gather the mana he needed to begin rebuilding the seal. He lifted his hand, palm facing the tomb, and the sigils etched into the stone began to glow in response.
The fire lighting the torches flickered, as though a gust of wind had cut through the room that he could not feel. Ignoring the anomaly, he continued to chant.
His soft voice grew steadily louder as he reached the part of the rite that transitioned from humble acknowledgement to command—his words echoing off the walls back at him.
His words faltered for the briefest of moments when a rumble reverberated through the room, shaking the ground beneath him slightly. He furrowed his brow and continued the strengthening spell.
As he spoke, an uncomfortable pressure began to grow in his chest. It was as if someone were peering at him—peering into him—but he was alone. Another rumble, bigger this time, rippled through the room, causing Zayne to shift his feet to balance himself. No longer able to focus on the words he was saying, his mind began to race. Something was wrong.
The room continued to shake violently, and Zayne’s voice grew louder once more, not because the ritual called for it, but in an effort to mask his own growing anxiety. A black-red mist began seeping through the edges of the stone slab.
He was almost finished, however—just one more step left. Determined to complete the ritual, he pressed on. He began reciting the last passage as he stepped forward to place his palm onto the center of the stone seal—the ritual required him to feed the energy of his evol into the runes. But as his skin touched the smooth surface, the mist rising around him materialized into a large tendril that snaked its way up his arm and yanked him forward hard, slamming his cheek into the rock.
He let out a grunt, his heart racing, and pushed against the stone with his other hand in an effort to free himself, but the mist held him firmly in place.
Despite his current position, he was driven by the sheer will to complete what he started. He pressed his free hand to the center of the circle of runes and activated his evol, beginning to chant the last passage of the sealing ritual once again.
Suddenly, his ears were filled with a deafening roar and he was flung backward as the rock slab exploded out against him.
He landed on his back across the room, the wind knocked out of his lungs. He quickly tried to reorient himself. The room was now filled with flames and smoke. As he pushed himself upright, another thunderous howl ripped through his eardrums, unmuffled by the slab that no longer stood. A massive, unidentifiable blur flew at him.
“Ah—” He pushed himself to his feet, stumbling backwards in a disoriented escape, but the entity caught up to him effortlessly.
Red mist dissipated to reveal the form of a tall silver-haired man—a man who had his hand firmly wrapped around Zayne’s throat as his furious ruby eyes tore into Zayne’s hazel ones. Zayne could see the barely perceptible sway in his stance and the heave of his chest. Despite the ferocity with which he had lunged at Zayne, he was not steady in his motions.
“You dare,” the man’s low voice growled. His fingers tightened around Zayne’s neck.
Zayne instinctively clawed at the hand choking him, willing a way for air to reach his lungs.
“You dare to try and bind me again?” He lifted Zayne off the ground, his stare boring into Zayne’s with palpable vengeance.
Zayne was running out of air—running out of time—he had to be decisive.
He reached a trembling hand toward the silver-haired man's chest and using his evol, he summoned a sharpened bolt of ice and plunged it deep into the flesh just to the right of his heart.
Zayne was instantly dropped to the ground, as the silver-haired man roared in pain, immediately reaching to yank the icicle out of his chest.
In a fit of coughing, Zayne rose to his feet again and began to flee.
He knew what this was—this thing—and he wasn’t equipped to take it on alone right now. He had to escape before he met his death.
The doors to the chambers flung open at that moment as the guards that were waiting outside entered the fray. But before Zayne could reach them, a swirl of black and red mist appeared between them, solidifying to become the figure of the silver-haired man, partially transformed and beast-like. Both guards unceremoniously dropped to the ground, their throats sliced open roughly.
Zayne slid to a stop as the beast turned to face him, pointing a dark claw at him, that then transformed back into a human hand.
“You will not imprison me for centuries and simply think you can run away from the consequences. To see your face again after all this time… It makes my blood burn.”
“What do you mean again?” Zayne’s face contorted into confusion as he took a step back. Something he couldn’t place twisted in his stomach, but he quickly dismissed it, gripping the hilt of his sword and unsheathing the weapon. “I’ve never set foot in this place before. Your quarrel is with someone else. I am simply a knight who had the misfortune of carrying out this task in someone else’s stead.”
The silver-haired man let out an incredulous laugh as he stepped forward, murderous intent darkening his eyes. “Your lies are yet another act of your betrayal. What a fool I was to ever trust you.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zayne insisted calmly as he carefully watched his movements—studying him—looking for an opening.
Furious, the man moved to lunge at Zayne, his hands once again transforming into claws.
Zayne raised his sword as the fires raged around them and intercepted the blow, striking back at his attacker.
Blood-red eyes filled with fury as the beast continued his assault on the knight. The sound of blade clashing with hard claw mixed with the sound of the flames consuming everything in the room.
The men twisted and turned in a deadly dance—one determined to end the other, the other simply fighting for a window of escape.
Zayne summoned a massive shard of ice in his free hand, as he swung his sword at the beast determined to end his life. The beast did not fall for the trick a second time. Instead, a webbed wing sprouted from his back and flapped hard once, pushing his momentum off-course and allowing him to dodge the strike.
It was growing stronger. Zayne knew that the longer this fight went on, the less likely he was to make it out alive.
His opening came when the beast closed in on him once more. His movements were becoming more sluggish—imperceptible to any normal person, but not to Zayne, who was a highly disciplined and accomplished knight. The beast swiped a razor claw at Zayne once more, and as he threw himself to the side to dodge, Zayne thrust his sword into the beast’s torso, stopping him in his tracks.
Zayne did not pause to retrieve his sword. Instead, as the beast dropped to his knees, screaming in pain as he pulled the steel that pierced him out from his body, Zayne ran.
The sword clanked to the ground as the beast clutched at the fresh wound, panting, blood spreading through his clawed fingers.
The sound of many more footsteps running toward the chamber then caught his attention. He was out of time. The knight would have to wait.
Any other day he would be able to endure the fight, but being kept prisoner with his powers suppressed for centuries had left him weak. He needed to leave before the rest of the knights overwhelmed him and he lost his chance at his revenge.
He unsteadily stood to his feet, red mist laced with black swirled up around him as he fully transformed, his massive body crashing into columns sending them tumbling, further compromising the integrity of the structure.
Just before the knights reached the entryway to the chamber, the massive red dragon surged forward, crashing through the doorway with an ear-shattering roar, and down the hall over the heads of the shocked unit. He turned sharply once a window along the long hall came into view, and plunged himself through the window, sending shards of glass and stone flying outward as he shot high up into the sky.