Curse Uncurse - ONC 2020 [Completed]

Chapter 17: Dragon King

It takes him a minute to find his first prey. He doesn't think he's been noticed until the still faintly beating heart is in his hand.

It is so easy to fight this way. To hunt. He is angry for being robbed of this power for this long.

He smells more of the prey near. They all smell so sickly sweet. He has never liked sweets.

The moon is red. Maybe all the blood he's spilled tonight is reflecting. His fire is too precious to use on these fools. Claws are enough.

Fresh breeze brings the scent of fear mingling with a tinge of something familiar. Something that smells like family. And fire.

It takes him a few leaps to get there.

The man fighting two of the prey is familiar in appearance. Ah, he has met him...before.

The man notices him, eyes widen, nostrils flutter, and mouth open. "Plamen!"

Hmm, that's his name. The name that was bestowed to him when he was born. Plamen has almost forgotten it.

One of the prey circles the man to attack from a blind spot. How dare this cretin touch what is his? Plamen reacts.

He miscalculated. Now there's blood splattered all over his face. He observes his bloodied hand, shuffles his fingers, and the claws glint red. He must learn to move more effectively.

The man carefully approaches him in a manner Plamen recognizes people do when dealing with a wild animal. He smiles at that. It doesn't seem the gesture is appreciated.

"Plamen, what happened?" the man asks.

Plamen tilts his head. "Did you know we're family?"

The man's silver eyes widen at that, then narrow, breath cuts off for a moment then resumes going in and out at a steady pace.

"I've had my suspicions," the man answers with a speck of suspicion coloring his words. "You?"

"I can smell it clearly."

"What do you mean you can smell it?"

Plamen steps closer, looking the man right in the eyes "We smell the same. But you could say we sound the same. Our blood sings an identical melody."

"Blood sings an identical melody?" the man repeats under his breath, then shakes his head slightly. "What has gotten into you?"

Plamen then realizes he's scaring the man, his family. A soft smile should be alright, right? One he used to give before... His facial muscles remember how to do it and the man seems to relax a bit.

"Dragons just know those things," is all he offers for now. The man scrunches his nose up, preparing to say something, but Plamen swivels to his right.

His hand is already traveling at high speed, reaching the neck of the prey which has hidden in the shadows up until now.

He can sniff out five more. Far away. He'll wait for them here. They must have some kind of a method of finding him, he wouldn't have run into them so many times before...

"Are you really Plamen?" The man shifts into a fighting stance. Plamen has no desire to battle him.

Ah, how to answer that? Truthfully, of course. Dragons don't lie.

"Yes and no." Scales erupt from his skin, he feels his eyes shifting, pupil narrowing in width, his hands and legs change into talons.

Oh, I lost my boots somewhere. The thought comes from nowhere. No. maybe from somewhere deep, deep inside, somewhere buried into a familiar cage. He's finally out so why does his former captor struggle to come out.

No matter. He's enjoying the view.

It's amusing. The man doesn't even realize the potential he has. He could be like me. And he will when Plamen ends it once and for all.

"I am the perfect version of Plamen. One not bound by curses and such."

The man gaps at him like an idiot as he walks away to a fallen tree. He sits down, closing his eyes and waits. His prey should be here soon.

"You're telling me you broke the curse?!"

Plamen doesn't like how that sounds. "No..." he starts but isn't sure how to finish. He must remember their names. "Zima and Vid," he says trying out the words. "They died. It opened the well of power residing inside the last Champion." He's repeating the words his ancestor has told him. "I am the result of that power."

He opens his eyes to see the man's horror-filled eyes. He doesn't know why that rubs him the wrong way.

"Dimmed light of the Sunburst Yellow, splattered red of the Electric Blue; Flame of Conquest gives birth to myth. It's the last part of the Prophecy."

"Dimmed, splattered," the man mutters with a weak voice.

A twig crunches in the distance, too faint for the man to hear, but to Plamen, it's like it happens a few meters away.

He's fast on his feet, rearing to his full height. It's time.

He can literally say he has bathed in the blood of his enemy. That is also amusing.

And then a portal appears. Or al least something that resembles a portal. He steps toward it, but something holds him back.

A crack and the haze lifts long enough for Plamen to look back at the Commander, this time actually smiling. "Don't worry, Commander. I'll come back in one piece...and with curse lifted."

***

It's dark but he can see.

"So, you're this year's Champion who managed to reach this place."

The woman radiates cold. Not like Zima used to emit cold air around her. This kind of cold has nothing to do with ice magic.

Plamen feels the anger burning inside him, but subsides it for when the time is right.

Her hair is white and skin is pallid. She watches him with beady eyes, face scrunched up into a snarl.

"How nice of you to come and die at my feet like a filthy beast you are," she spats out.

Her arms raise, then move in a pattern.

Plamen doesn't wait for her to finish that move. He pounces.

Before she can even react, he brings his hands and slaps her away.

I want her blood.

He dances around her when she retaliates, forcing sharp jabs to hit her body with his bare hands. He'll leave his claws for the main event.

They died for this.

Plamen jumps away.

"You think you can get away with that. I'll curse you!"

How unimaginative. He brings up his hand and a pale green necklace unfurls.

She brings her hands to her neck, realizing what she's missing, first signs of apprehension showing on her face. "I'll kill you for that."

Plamen smiles. It's all fangs and teeth. And leaps so fast even his new eyes can barely navigate.

Oh, how nice is to have the power just under his skin. His hand transforms, nails turn sharp, sharper.

Soon, a head falls to the floor in a wet squelch and glares up at him.

For a good measure, he lights up his fire and throws it at it. Vid and Zima say hi.

He moves to where he last felt the portal as pain-filled screams fill the room.

***

This is the first time he has transformed fully. It feels great to fly.

I wish Zima and Vid have experienced this, a stray thought floats in. 

He squashes it, just like all of them, and continues to fly.