Kingdoms of Ohm: The Lonely Dragon #1 ✓

The Truth You Seek

I stand by my word: This is Hell, not Heil.

Oh, dear reader — to say that I awoke to happy smiles, fresh sunlight, and woeful coos of Az'hark's mightiest dragons... would be a massive understatement. I would not lie to convince you otherwise. Here, in a world filled with magic, where magic thrives, and beasts of burden coincide, this precious thought served to be the biggest fantasy of all. But, like all things, it struck hard with my soul.

Because this fantasy reminded me of what I lost.

My past. My family. My friends.

A land that I may never return to.

Now this was my curse. My undoing as a storm dragon of Ohm. No longer was I the magnificent beast of flame and smoke that challenged the skies or humbled the earth. No longer did my voice shake the heart of Ohm's greatness.

All that remained of me now is a whimper.

So, as all cursed creatures, I awoke in a world of pain. Slumped upon the speckled grounds of Heil, I found myself drenched in a puddle of my own blood; the metallic stench overwhelming as it was intense. While its flavors tickled my tongue, I noticed the redness smeared all over my skull and underside, enough to make every pretentious scale lose their speckled blue spark. Even my muscles throbbed helplessly, ruined by the sharp fangs that had punctured its hide.

Another whimper left me. I looked more dead than alive. The feeling within agreed. But the panting breaths I forced out said otherwise.

As did the male voice that hovered above me.

"A promise is a promise, dragon."

"Nnh..." I shifted a paw to my head. "My h-head..."

"Apologies," Vulkar's fuzzy appearance came into sight, his idle wing brushing away the blood from his jawline. "My clan got a little too hungry. Lightheaded?"

I shivered, sealing my nares from the heavy scent. The throbbing wasn't going away, and his words felt more distant than clear. After two extra breaths, I shifted my claws again, only to feel Vulkar force a wing to my flank. "Do not stand," he grunted. "It is best if you let your body run its course before attempting such a feat."

"Rrr..." came a growl, my throat failing to offer any words to the blood-stained beast.

"You have done us a grand favor, young drake," he went on, coiling his wings to stand upright. "My kind will live for generations to come because of your sacrifice. I am forever in your debt."

"L-Luna..." I forced out, trying to raise my head before Vulkar re-enacted the same motion. "Is she-?"

"She sleeps over yonder," Vulkar pointed to the left side of the cave. "The werewolf put up a fight to protect you." He then shook his head in utter amazement. "By the stars, I am intrigued over her level of commitment to keep you alive. And I shall respect it. As promised, she will not be harmed, nor will the werewolves province. So long as your deal stands with Lykaios, mine will as well."

I breathed my approval, bumping away his wing, only to groan against another spasm. Vulkar studied my limp body for a moment, eying the massive scratches and stabs that ran along my scales. Once a cold shudder of hunger crossed his three eyes, the albino vampire flickered his tongue out, licking along my scales and sending another earthquake of pain before I could weakly paw him away.

"S-Stop..."

"You are still bleeding."

"Y-You have... had your fill," I fought through every word, my eyes dilating in anger. "Is this not enough?!"