"Pleassse... Massster... end our torment... we ssshall accept the missstresssesss blesssing to become that which we were promisssed so very long ago by Sssalazar."
Her words lingered in the air like smoke, heavy and trembling.
The sound of her voice—normally so vast and commanding—now carried a fragile reverence, as though she stood at the edge of both fear and hope.
I looked at her—Serepha, as she'd once been called—and for a moment, I almost forgot what she was.
Not a monster, not even a weapon, but something wounded and ancient that had outlived her purpose.
Her massive form lowered even further, scales grinding softly against the damp stone as she pressed her head to the floor.
That single act—submission from a creature whose gaze alone could end life—was enough to send a strange mix of awe and unease through me.
"I…" I began, my voice low, hesitant. "You're certain of this?"
Serepha's eyes, still closed to protect me from her gaze, shifted faintly in my direction.
"Yesss," she hissed, her tone trembling with the weight of centuries. "Better to become anew than remain broken… caged in darknessss… chained to memoriesss that do not fade."
Before I could respond, Lady Draconis drifted forward, her expression unreadable.
She regarded the serpent with a sort of grim pride—an ancient matriarch observing a descendant stepping into destiny.
"So it is decided," she murmured. "The guardian will shed her chains, and the heir will bind her anew."
Her eyes turned to me then, bright as the molten core of a star.
"You understand what you agree to, my hatchling?"
"I think so," I said cautiously. "She'll change—transform. But what does that mean for me?"
Lady Draconis tilted her head slightly, her silver hair flowing like smoke.
"Transformation on this scale cannot happen without balance. A soul cannot evolve without something to anchor it. In this case, that anchor will be you."
I frowned.
"Meaning?"
"The beast must bind herself to your life. A life debt, in the truest sense. Her heart will beat because yours does. Her breath will follow your will. You will be her master, yes—but also her equal in death. Should you perish she will follow after you as a loyal servant should."
That gave me pause.
I glanced at Serepha, whose breath now came slow and steady.
"And my part in this ritual?"
"A sacrifice," Lady Draconis said softly. "Blood—the vessel of life and magic. You will give willingly what others might take by force. Do not worry the amount is not much, just enough to act as a single building block for her current form to mutate with."
Her eyes gleamed.
"In return, her soul will weave itself into your own, though your blood, your lifeforce. And through her your own lifeforce shall be enhanced."
I let the words settle.
They weren't light ones.
Binding souls.
Life debts.
Blood sacrifices.
This wasn't a spell.
It was a covenant, or a magical ritual if you will.
Still, looking at the serpent before me—the creature who had guarded, killed, mourned, and begged for release—I couldn't bring myself to deny her.
"She's willing," I said finally. "It would dishonour her to refuse."
Lady Draconis's lips curved faintly. "Then let it be done."
The Chamber dimmed as her aura expanded, the air thickening with energy that made every hair on my arms rise.
The very walls seemed to hum, alive with the pulse of ancient magic.
Serepha slithered forward, stopping before me, lowering her head until her snout almost touched the hem of my robes.
The ground trembled faintly beneath her bulk, though her movements were careful, reverent.
Lady Draconis extended a spectral hand.
"Place your palm upon her scales," she instructed. "You must mark the bond willingly."
I obeyed, pressing my hand against the cool, smooth surface of Serepha's brow.
The scales pulsed faintly beneath my touch, warmth gathering as if life itself flowed there.
With one hand on her scales, the other went to my wand, drawing it out before doing a simple swishing motion to cut open the flesh of my outstetched arm.
A gash appeared as blood began to trickle down.
Except the blood did not fall to the floor but instead floated in the air, little bubbles of blood formed a small haze in the air, before the wound on my arm sealed itself up naturally, at which point the personal ritual was enacted.
The misty blood moved all at once as an onrushing flood into the mouth of the awaiting Serepha.
Thats when it truly began.
as a low vibration beneath my skin, then surged upward, tearing through every vein like lightning.
I gasped, stumbling as a brilliant crimson light shot from my hand into her scales.
At the same instant, she let out a deep, guttural hiss—one that resonated so strongly I felt it in my bones.
As if her parseltongue was on the very of evolution into draconic itself
Then her great body convulsed.
Her massive form began to give off a great heat, the water in the reflection pool began to boil, rising in waves that licked the edges of the platform.
I stepped back, shielding my face from the surge of heat.
Serepha's body coiled tighter and tighter, muscles rippling beneath her scales.
Her breathing turned ragged, her hisses morphing into deep, guttural cries.
"Lady Draconis—" I started, alarm creeping into my voice.
But the ghost only watched, serene.
"It is natural," she said calmly.
A shudder rippled through Serepha's enormous form, and then—suddenly—she began to vomit forth a thick, silvery substance.
At first it looked like bile, but the texture was wrong—sticky, luminous, alive.
It clung to her scales, spreading rapidly, layer upon layer, until her entire form was wrapped in a glistening cocoon.
The stench of ozone filled the air.
I could only stare as the last of her coils disappeared beneath the silken shell, her shape frozen mid-motion like a statue captured in the act of rebirth.
Lady Draconis's expression softened. "And so it begins."
I turned to her, still breathing hard, the aftershocks of the bond thrumming faintly in my veins.
"How long…?"
"Time is irrelevant to creatures such as us," she said with a faint smile. "But by your reckoning—six months, perhaps. By the end of your school year, she will emerge anew. No longer serpent, but dragon a youngling but a true dragon nonetheless."
"Six months…" I murmured, glancing back toward the cocoon.
Its surface pulsed faintly, glowing from within like a sleeping ember. "And until then?"
"She will sleep," Lady Draconis said.
My new familiar was incubating, meanwhile the chamber itself was a perfect location from which to house her transformation, though once her change is complete a new home would be needed since if Lady Draconis is to be believed a true dragon can grow to be many times larger than Serepha's basilisk state.