Chapter 59: Chapter Fifty-nine: Lucid dreams.
Damien stared at his palms in silent awe. What had just happened?
The silence that had followed Elyria’s words felt like a curse. It crawled through Damien’s veins, cold and vile, like a wrap of another skin.
The dragon sent by the gods... him?
No.
It was absurd. Impossible.
And yet, as he stared down at his own trembling hands, that same dark ripple that had erupted moments ago pulsed faintly beneath his skin with black veins tracing like smoke over his flesh before vanishing again.
Elyria was still panting across the room, grabbing her cheek where a thin cut bled. The mark healed and the skin mended before his eyes, but the anger still remained. Lio stood between them, flabbergasted by what had just happened.
"Do you still think this is a joke?" Lio’s voice was quieter now as his serious eyes fixed on Damien who was still in disbelief.
Damien didn’t answer. He could still feel the air where his power had lashed out, still see the spears of darkness he just created without thought. His fingers twitched as though remembering the act.
That wasn’t magic. It wasn’t something human.
"Whatever you think I am," Damien said finally in a hoarse voice, "you’re wrong. I don’t belong here. I have to find a way back to my brother."
"Lucian has already been sent back to Zerethane," Lio said calmly, moving toward the dusty window. "That realm has shut its doors to you, Damien. You are not meant to walk among them until your awakening is complete."
"My awakening?" Damien echoed, his brow furrowing.
Lio turned to him then, his eyes gleaming faintly under the orange-red sky beyond. "You still don’t feel it, do you? The fire crawling beneath your skin. This is your calling! Don’t deny it!"
"I’m cursed!" Damien fired back unable to bear it anymore. That damned curse had been the bane of his existence always limiting him.
Damien’s jaw tightened. He didn’t want to admit it, but he did feel something when that power shit out of him. Whatever it was that had come out of him, it was as real as hell.
He took a step back. "Whatever this is, get it out of me."
Elyria laughed bitterly from the side. "You can’t ’get out’ what you are. The gods don’t make mistakes, prince."
"Don’t call me that."
"Then what should I call you?" She tilted her head mockingly, wiping the faint streak of blood from her face. "A frightened boy wearing scales beneath his flesh? A beast pretending to be human?"
Before she could say another word, Damien’s aura burst again this time sharper and colder. The shadows in the room shuddered and crawled along the walls, spreading like veins of ink. The air throbbed with energy, and Elyria froze where she stood.
"Enough!" Damien roared.
Damien fell to one knee, gasping for breath. His vision blurred; for a moment, he saw strange flashes that didn’t belong to him. He clutched his head, trying to drown the images, but they forced themselves in.
He saw a battlefield.
He saw dragons—hundreds, thousands—screaming as chains of fiery light bound them to the earth.
And in the center of it all stood a figure draped in gold and white armor, holding a blade made of sunfire.
Then, he saw himself—the same eyes, the same face—kneeling before that figure.
"Damien!" Lio’s voice cut through the haze. He rushed to his side, grabbing his shoulders. "Breathe. You’re fighting it, but the more you resist, the stronger it gets."
"I’m not—" Damien stopped, wincing. His chest burned. Literally. Heat spread through his ribs, licking through his veins like wildfire and scarring his chest with new patterns. His nails lengthened for a split second forming intimidating claws. Then they returned to normal.
Elyria’s eyes widened. "He’s already starting to shift..."
"Not yet," Lio said through gritted teeth, forcing Damien’s hands down. "He’s too unstable. If he turns now, he’ll tear this realm apart."
"Then what do you want me to do, Lio? Let him kill himself?!"
"I want you to shut up for once!"
The two glared at each other while Damien struggled to steady his breath. His body was screaming at him to release it—the thing inside him wanted out. He could feel it snarling under his skin, begging to be freed.
"Stop... talking..." he growled, his voice dropping lower, guttural.
The walls began to hum. The floor beneath him cracked. The paintings on the wall peeled as if reacting to his presence. Dust fell from the ceiling and the air reeked of sulfur and old blood.
And then it happened—his pupils split, forming narrow golden slits.
Lio cursed under his breath. "Elyria, the chains!"
Elyria immediately moved, pulling something from beneath her coat—a small metallic object. She tossed it to Lio, and he slammed it on the ground beside Damien. The object exploded into a circle of glowing sigils that expanded outward, wrapping around Damien’s body in golden chains of light.
Damien roared out. The sound shook the walls and shattered the window behind him.
"What the heck is happening to me!?" he shouted through clenched teeth.
The room began to twist and the air shimmered. For a heartbeat, Damien saw the silhouettes of dragons soaring above, their wings cutting through the clouds like blades.
And he saw her.
A woman, pale as moonlight, standing in the fire with a crown of thorns and eyes of silver.
"Damien..." she whispered from within the vision. "You must remember... you must remember who you are."
He reached for her but she vanished, and the world collapsed back into darkness. "Wait! Come back! Who are you?!"
Damien awoke with a loud gasp followed by strong bouts of coughs. The chains were gone, and the room was dimly lit by a lantern on the table. His chest still glowed faintly under his shirt. Lio sat across from him, looking at him thoughtfully.
All the time when Damien was in that trance, he had been watching him. A bright light had shone from his back where the dragon tattoo stuck like another skin. That tattoo was more than enough to quench his doubts. He was the one.
As he stared at Damien who sat on the floor completely dazed, a thought came to him. He didn’t know where the words came from, but he said them anyway.
Lio’s expression darkened. "The prophecy," he murmured.
"What prophecy?"
Elyria spoke before Lio could stop her. "When the chosen one awakens, the forgotten ones will finally be freed. Their fire will burn through the heavens, and the first world will rise again."
Damien clenched his fists at her words. Fire? Burn? "I don’t want to burn the world."
"That’s the thing," Elyria said in a scoff. "You won’t have a choice." She didn’t know why, but her heart seemed to have lost all affection for him.
He looked up at her sharply. "I always have a choice."
"No," Lio said quietly, standing. "You were born of prophecy, Damien. Your choice was made long before you drew your first breath."
The fire flickered violently, as though reacting to their words. Outside, the red-orange sky darkened further into a violent shade of crimson.
And then, in the distance, a sound—deep and thunderous like a roar.
The walls quaked. The floor trembled and Elyria and Lio exchanged knowing looks.
"They’ve sensed him," she whispered, clutching the sides of her apron.
"Who?" Damien demanded, his voice sharp.
"The other dragons," Lio said grimly."They’ve felt your flame awaken and feel threatened."
The roar came again, louder this time and closer. The house shook, and a shadow passed over the window. Damien rose to his feet immediately.
Through the shattered window, he saw colossal shapes moving through the orange clouds, their scales glinting like black steel. Each flap of their wings sent waves of wind cascading across the forest and into the house. Just by the size of their wings, everyone could see how massive and ferocious they were.
Elyria instinctively darted back and returned with a small purse. She opened it and took out a folded sword and a dagger. "They’ll come for him." she said, tossing the dagger to Lio who caught it with one hand.
Lio nodded. "We have to move."
Damien turned to them, fury and confusion burning behind his eyes. "You knew this would happen, didn’t you? You brought me here!" He had always been suspicious as to why only he was chosen to follow them to this strange world. Lio had claimed that he was the chosen one and all that but he still didn’t buy it.
Lio didn’t deny it. "Because this is where you were meant to awaken. Whether you like it or not, your coming was written before time."
"I don’t care about prophecies!" Damien shouted. "I’m not your weapon!"
The roof split apart as a massive claw tore through the beams, sending debris crashing around them. A dragon’s head, larger than the entire room, peered down through the opening with eyes like gold and pupils shaped like blades.
Damien’s body froze. He couldn’t breathe.
"Get him out of here!" Lio yelled to Elyria who stood awestruck.
The dragon roared, and the world turned white.