naijabiss

Son of a Dragon

Chapter Seven – Chains of Shadow, Wings of Fire

The dragon’s eye held Kaelen like a flame holds dry tinder. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. It was not simply looking at him—it was peering into him, down to the marrow of his bones, to the fire pulsing in his veins.

The Shadowbinder cursed, his hands weaving darker, thicker chains to bind the beast. The ground split, black iron erupting like roots of shadow. The dragon roared in fury, fire spilling across the field in waves. Villagers screamed and fled, but Kaelen stood rooted, trembling, as if the heat were his own heartbeat.

And then it happened.

The dragon’s flames didn’t burn him. Instead, they curled around him, caressing like wind, harmless as candlelight. The Shadowbinder’s gaze snapped to Kaelen, horror etched into his cold features.

“You—” his voice cracked with urgency. “Step away from it, boy. Now.”

But Kaelen did not step away. He stepped closer.

Every pace drew another scream from the Shadowbinder as the chains began to crack. “Do you not understand? That thing will kill you! It is death incarnate!”

Kaelen’s lips parted, and before he could stop himself, words spilled out—ancient, guttural, nothing human. His own voice sounded foreign, heavy with a resonance that shook the air.

The dragon stilled.

The chains shattered.

And with one terrible beat of its wings, the beast rose into the air, circling above, no longer raging—watching. Watching him.

The Shadowbinder fell to one knee, exhausted, glaring at Kaelen as though he were the greater threat. “By the Abyss…” he rasped. “You are no mere boy. You are a herald of the old fire. If the king learns of this…” His face twisted. “You will not live long enough to see manhood.”

Kaelen’s father burst into the field then, axe in hand, face pale with terror. He seized his son by the shoulders. “What did you do?”

Kaelen could not answer. His throat burned with the weight of words he didn’t understand. All he could feel was the dragon’s eye still burning inside his mind, leaving behind a single truth:

He was bound to it.

And it to him.

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Chapter Eight – Whispers of Ash

That night, the village gathered in fear. Half the crops had been burned, homes scorched, yet none of the fire had touched Kaelen. People murmured that he had called the beast, that he was its master, or worse—its spawn.

“Cast him out,” some cried.

“He’ll bring ruin upon us all,” others whispered.

“Dragon’s blood brings only death.”

Kaelen sat alone in the darkened house, hearing every word through the walls. His mother pressed his hand, her own trembling. “Do not listen. They are afraid because they do not see what I see. You are my son. My boy.”

But Kaelen’s chest ached. He wasn’t sure anymore if he was hers, or theirs, or anyone’s.

When he closed his eyes, he saw the dragon’s gaze. And when he slept, he dreamed—not dreams of men, but of wings slicing the sky, of ancient battles where fire rained from the heavens, of a voice that whispered in a tongue older than the mountains.

Come to me.

He woke gasping, smoke spilling from his mouth.

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Chapter Nine – The Mark of Flame

At dawn, the Shadowbinder returned. His cloak was torn, his face pale, but his eyes burned with cold intent.

“The beast is gone for now,” he said to Kaelen’s parents, “but it is not finished. Dragons are not mindless. It marked your boy. It will come for him again.”

Kaelen clenched his fists. “Why? Why me?”

The man’s expression hardened. “Because you carry what should not exist. Dragon’s fire in a mortal vessel. Once, centuries ago, such children were hunted at birth. Kings called them ‘Ashborn.’” His gaze flicked to Kaelen. “And every one of them brought kingdoms to ruin.”

Kaelen’s stomach twisted. His voice broke. “So what am I supposed to do? Let myself be killed? Hide until it finds me?”

The Shadowbinder’s eyes narrowed. “No. You will come with me. To the capital. To the king. He will decide whether you live… or burn.”

Silence filled the room. His mother clutched Kaelen tighter, shaking her head. His father’s hand found his axe again.

But Kaelen felt the fire stirring inside him, restless, defiant. His path was no longer his own. The dragon’s call burned in his blood, demanding he choose.

Obedience. Or rebellion.

And whichever he chose—someone would bleed.