Darkness.
Emberis woke to it—heavy, endless, pressing against his scales like the weight of mountains. A deep, bone-deep ache thrummed through his body. His mind felt… fragmented, as if it had been torn in two and hastily stitched back together.
He could feel the shape of his body, but it was wrong. Limbs that should be arms ended in claws. His skin was not skin at all, but scales—hard and cold, yet alive with a strange, burning energy that crackled in his blood. He flexed his claws, feeling the scrape of stone beneath them.
Where…?
He forced his eyes open. Darkness greeted him, thick as tar. But even in the pitch black, he could sense the walls of the cave around him—the rough stone, the damp chill of the air. His hearing sharpened, catching the distant drip of water, the rustle of unseen creatures.
He tried to speak, but the sound that came out was a low, rumbling growl. It echoed in the darkness, alien and powerful. The sound thrilled him—and terrified him.
His memories were scattered, like shards of broken glass. He remembered fire. Pain. And something else—something human. A name whispered in the darkness of his thoughts.
Michael.
But he was not Michael anymore.
He shifted, his wings—wings!—rustling against the cave floor. The realization sent a shiver through him. He had wings. And claws. And teeth that ached to sink into flesh.
The memories came in flashes—Michael's life, human and soft, full of laughter and warmth. And then—nothing. A searing pain, a darkness deeper than night. And now… this.
Emberis.
The name came to him as if it had always been there, waiting in the shadows. Emberis. He spoke it aloud, his voice a low, echoing rumble that tasted of smoke and embers.
He rose slowly, testing the strength of his limbs. His body felt… massive. Heavy. But there was power there too—coiled beneath his scales, ready to surge.
He moved deeper into the cave, each step sending small stones skittering across the floor. His claws scraped against the rock, the sound sharp and final.
As he moved, he felt the cave begin to open up around him. The air grew warmer, the scent of sulfur and something older filling his nose. He could feel the pulse of the earth beneath his feet, a slow, steady thrum that matched the beat of his own heart.
He reached a ledge and paused. Before him, the cave fell away into a vast chamber. He could sense it—the space, the emptiness. And there, in the heart of the darkness, a glow. Faint, like the last embers of a dying fire.
He moved closer, his scales catching the light. The glow grew brighter, revealing a pool of molten rock that shimmered like liquid gold. The heat washed over him, and he felt something in his chest stir—something ancient and hungry.
He looked down into the molten pool and saw his reflection. A dragon. Scales the color of molten copper, eyes like twin suns. Power and fury made flesh.
For a moment, Michael's memories screamed in protest. This is not me. This is not real.
But the dragon in him only growled, low and pleased. This was real. This was him.
Emberis.
He let out a breath, smoke curling from his nostrils. The scent of it was intoxicating. He was dragon. He was more.
He turned away from the molten pool, the light fading behind him. The cave stretched on, winding and deep, and he felt the pull of it—like a promise. There was more to this place. More to him.
He would find it. He would claim it.
He stretched his wings, feeling the strength in them, the weight of the air they displaced. A thrill ran through him. He was dragon. And the world beyond the cave was waiting.
Emberis moved forward, his eyes bright in the darkness, his mind a swirling storm of memory and instinct.
He was no longer Michael. He was something more. Something ancient. Something powerful.
And he would see the sky again.