Carefully the Matriarch grasped Sarre’s head in her large yet still gentle hands and breathed a fine golden mist into his nostrils, mouth, and eyes that he didn’t hesitate to breathe in, his mind still aware enough to know what it was and meant for him. As she breathed the mist on him Serra’s skin began to grow back his creamy, bone-like scales and the deaden orange and red of his eyes receded, returning back to his natural golden color. She quietly beckoned for Quil and Manus to approach her and graciously blew the fine, golden mist over them as well to be certain that no one could bring back the madness to their lands with them.
Jason watched on with intense curiosity and growing anxiety as the other three dragons tended to Sarre’s recovery, wondering how on earth was he was going to provide the cure to humans without either group trying to kill each other over it. “Maybe she can bottle it up or something. But then how do I explain where it came from without every human in Avonous trying to hunt these dragons down? Or profiteers passing off fake or even infected dragon fire? I don’t even want to think about that,” Jason thought to himself before setting aside those thoughts for later. When he finally felt rested enough to move, he got back up on his feet and started to walk toward the dragons but stopped when he saw his maimed chest plate. The whole area had cooled enough that the armor was no longer molten hot, just a bit warm as he decided to pick it up and examine what had happened to it. Not only had Sarre been able to tear right through it with his claws but its color had turned to a dull, steel gray; neither white or black, just like his shield had. He quickly walked over to examine the shield as well, and confirmed it was still dull gray. Jason’s worries only worsened when he saw that even the armor still on him wore that was still unscathed had also turned to gray. Torvis forged steel had never done this on its own and there was nothing that he knew that could corrupt, let alone cut right through it other than another piece of Torvis steel.
This was urgent, much more urgent than the cure and was something that he could not wait to turn in a report on. If there was something wrong or going wrong with the Torvis armor, the King’s Guard needed to know right now and not in the midst of another horde’s attack.
Given the protection the armor Jason wore amounted to wearing pots and pans, at least against a dragon, Jason ripped off the rest except for the daggers on his belt which were still Torvis steel white. He thought that maybe because they were newer they still maintained their special properties but thought it was odd was that even though dragons were present they hadn’t changed to black.
“Maybe it only changes for infected dragons?” Jason wondered for a moment but then again he did keep forgetting if it both the blades and the handles were made of Torvis steel or just the blades as polished dragon bone looked extremely similar to white Torvis steel. So he went to pull out one of the daggers out of its sheath to check the blade but the second he touched the handle it nearly burnt the skin right off his hand and once again when he accidentally bumped the other one’s handle.
Jason confused by the pain angrily cried out, “What in blazes!” and went to undo his belt but stopped when he saw it already hung loose and had somehow become at three notches too large. Annoyed, he assumed that one of the stable boys must have been sloppy that morning or hadn’t learned how to properly fit armor yet. He finished undoing his belt and let it drop to the ground in heap with the daggers still attached to it, giving it a good kick out of frustration. Except his boot nearly flew off and was also a couple sizes too big.
“What the?” Jason took a closer look at all of the clothes he wore which were now baggy or too big in one way or another.
“Did the battle do this?” he thought to himself when he caught his reflection in the blade of one of the daggers that had become unsheathed when he had kicked them away. His eyes widened in shock but they weren’t the same eyes or face he had woken up with that morning. Instead of the twenty-five-year-old Jason, who was fully grown, well-built with some premature wrinkles from ten years of harsh training, numerous battles and too many hours spent in the sun, it was the fifteen-year-old him that stared back. A fifteen year old him that he scarcely remembered other than being too desperate to prove himself, leave Torvis and was always checking to see if he had grown taller, his face for hair and didn’t know his first real growth spurt was at least another six months off.
Absentmindedly he backed away from the blade and the time-warped reflection it held but only ended up tripping over his now ill-fitting boots. He fell down backward and banged his head hard on the ash-covered dirt. He winced but his mind was still consumed by what he had seen and could only vaguely mumble out, “Wha, wha, wha?”
“I believe there are some things I need to explain to you,” the Matriarch spoke calmly to Jason as she approached him, now back in her human-like form with Quil behind her.
“What happened? What is this? Is this some sort of trick or side effect or…oh my head,” Jason moaned, hoping that he was hallucinating and whack he just took had just prolonged it.
For a moment the Matriarch paused, not quite knowing what to say to Jason, as she read his name from his thoughts now he was tied to her through her fire. She tried to think of some way to softly explain all that was happening but from she could hear in his mind it quickly became clear to her that it would be best to give it to him straight, “Jason, you were willing to sacrifice your life for one of my kind. This is something I have never seen any other human do, let only one that was set on killing you. To repay you, and save you from the madness, I only had two choices. To end your life right there and spare you from becoming what humans call a dragbeast or…transform you into what we call a Child of the Fire and join our kind.”
This did little to bring him peace as his mind wrestled with what she had said. The Matriarch had also taken a great risk to save him. When she breached her fire sack she could have easily died as well, in addition to the much larger ramifications she had now set in motion for all her kind. It didn’t surprise her that Jason had also picked up on her feelings, if not thoughts as well through their new bond. Hastily Jason grabbed for words to make sense of everything that was going on, “Look, I am grateful you saved me but…I mean…you’re not really saying…?” He started but out of fear stumbled off, despite the truth was as obvious as the burn on his hand from Torvis steel.
“It won’t be easy, but I will make it this transition as easy as on you as possible. You are a dragon now. More importantly, you are now my son and only heir, just as if you had been born to me.”
Jason attempted to stay calm but the conflict inside him won out despite the years of honing training to control his mind and emotions, and it was almost as if it had been completely reset, “No! This can’t happen! You have to change me back! I have to warn my men! I-“
At this point in time, there were many things Jason didn’t know and wouldn’t understand, not because he was unable to but simply this was not the right time or place to explain them to him. More than that, he didn’t know that there were more than just feral dragons and dragon slayers that posed a threat to dragon kind. Quickly she drew herself up to her full height to put her new son in his place, “You will listen to me and do as I say! You are my only son and heir and barely even a hatchling by human standards. If anything were to happen to you, I would do nothing short of razing every village down to their foundations on every parcel of this land. We will get word to your former comrades but not until I can be certain that all of us are safe.”
But Jason was still defiant, “No! They need to know now! I just sent them to evacuate every town near here and I’m not going to-“
With a thud from her strong tail, the Matriarch silenced him, “We are not the only ones out here and as I said, none of us safe. Now it is time that you rest.”
Jason tried again to quarrel with the Matriarch, but before he could she placed the tips of her clawed fingers to the back of his neck and he suddenly found himself too tired finish what he was thinking shortly before falling asleep in her arms. All hatchlings, whether by egg or fire, were prone to outbursts and were overall extremely rebellious. This made every dragon parent grateful that not only they held a mental connection with their offspring while they were young but also that they were born with special glands in their necks that the parents could use to sooth them, but only when there was no other option.
Many parents had made the mistake of relying on it too heavily which hindered their hatchling’s development and once the connection and glands wore away with age; they had a whole new nest-full of problems on their claws.
Even while Jason slept she could feel the fear and turmoil inside him at losing what he considered to be his life, his humanity, everything that made him who he was. But those very qualities were the reason why she had picked him and not even for one moment would she want those to change.
Before Quil finished walking over to her, she took in the rest the small, peaceful moment she had and softly whispered to him, “This is not beyond you and you will be able to do so much more than you know. In time you will see, but for now, sleep well…my son.”
The Matriarch carefully lifted Jason into her arms and closed the short distance between her and Quil, who had transformed into his what the dragons they called their Councilor form, just like the Matriarch had already done. For Quil this meant his winged arms simply became normal arms and hands aside from some light webbing between his fingers. His clothes, like the Matriarch’s, matched his dragon form but were made of heavy ruby red fabric, with long sleeves and golden embroidery, including a shoulder cape that bore the emblem that labeled him as an Advisor and golden ringlets and decorative chains that donned his horns.
“I see you put him to sleep,” Quil remarked, his face and tone back to their natural calm. The Matriarch nodded looking up from Jason to Quil, “Yes, I thought it would be best for now. Fire hatchlings have even shorter tempers than shell hatchlings.”
Quil let out a heavy sigh, “Something we both know all too well thanks to your cousin. At least he is a little older and should be easier to reason with.”
“Yes hopefully, for both our sakes.”
An uncertain look crossed Quil’s face, “Both of us?”
The Matriarch smiled mischievously at Quil, “Well, it was you who volunteered to not only be my personal advisor but also to any children I would bear. Is that not still true?”
Quil grimaced as he recalled the oath he had made all those years ago, “Yes I did…but, to be honest, I had expected that by the time you finally settled down with a mate, that I would have retired. You know teaching hatchlings is not one of my strong points, let along another fire hatchling Shea,” he said addressing the Matriarch familiarly and using her given name.
Shea chuckled a little, “You know I’m not the most predictable sort. Don’t worry, I have no intentions of not raising my own son, but I will need help Quil and given he is a fire hatchling, he will also need a wise teacher. But for now, I need you to watch over him and let me know when he wakes. There is much that has happened here that I need to investigate before we can head back home and report.”
Quil gave Shea a nod of agreement and held out his arms for Shea to place Jason in. For a moment more she held onto him before she carefully placed him in Quil’s arms and headed back toward the battlegrounds.
Quil looked down at Jason, his face filled with concern before he let out another heavy sigh and thought quietly to himself, “So much for retiring in a hundred years…only two hundred more to go…,” as he made his way toward the abandoned outpost to hopefully rest his nearly six hundred-year-old body as well.
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