Chapter 7: Crimson Scales

Larson pondered for a while before reaching a decision. “Only for a moment will I lend you my body. You must promise me that!”

“Sure, sure, I promise.” The beast sighed.

“Hmm… I don’t know…”

“You don’t have much of a choice, do you?” It urged him. “Time’s running out, boy.”

“Alright! I—“

The dragon cut off the rest of his sentence. “Great choice!”

Flames burned within Larson’s veins. It rose to his lungs as he held onto his neck. His head thumped, beating faster than his heart. A puff of smoke escaped from his mouth. Am I being cooked alive? I… I don’t want to die… I haven’t fulfilled my quest yet.

“Don’t be overly dramatic, boy!” it hissed at him. “A few more minutes of pain, and you will feel nothing, as if drifting in to dreamland.”

Larson rushed back into the forest, evading the suspicious glares darted behind him. He screamed. Birds flew away into the dark sky. Larson slumped on the grass, his breaths of air transforming into gasps of fire. “Argh! It burns! Somebody… help… me…”

Crimson scales, each a size of a grain of rice, spread in some parts of Larson’s arms, legs, and face as he pounded the ground with his fists. Scales peeled on his skin, shedding some of it. I would rather watch a snake skin itself than tell more of his grizzly transformation.

Anyway, Larson retained some of his human features when the change finished. A crimson tail burned the grass as it swayed back and forth aggressively. Larson grew mute as he took the front-row seat at the recesses of his mind, watching through the dragon’s eyes.

The dragon possessing Larson’s body sniffed the air, isolating the scent of bread from his friend’s. “Aha! So that’s where you took her.”

As he passed through the bustling crowd, some of them felt a burning chill as if an invisible ghost flew past them. With inhuman speed, he reached the bandit’s hideout—a mountain away from the city.

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Inside the shabby warehouse behind the mountain, the merchant seated Merlize on a wooden chair behind the dining table. In front of him, a group of black-clothed men crossed their arms.

A scruffy man in black stroked the ends of her orange braids. “Ah yes, what a fine lady you have brought this time.”

“Isn’t she a beauty?” The merchant agreed.

“Here’s your bag of gold.” A masked man handed him his payment.

“Just a tiny sack?” He huffed. “I risked my life fishing out this girl from her swordsman.”

Another bandit wearing a black bandana flashed the tip of his knife under his chin. “What? Did I hear something?”

An audible gulp crawled down the merchant’s throat. “My tongue must have slipped. I beg of you, spare this fragile old man.”

“Thank your luck that the gods are with you today.” He slid back the knife in its hilt. “Be gone with you. And remember, you saw nothing here!”

The merchant walked out of the door. The sinister group touched Merlize’s hand, legs, and face as if she were a saint, but dark thoughts polluted their minds.

“What should we do with her, boss?” The black bandana asked the scruffy man.

Suddenly, they heard wood breaking. The heat inside the warehouse rose twice more than the normal room temperature. Bucket of grimy sweat soiled the wooden floor.

“Have mercy… no!” The merchant’s voice could be heard outside and his bones broke with an audible force. “Ack!”

A storm of wind shattered glass from the window. Dread filled the air as they drew their arms.

“Who-who goes there?” The scruffy man called out.

As Larson kicked the door open, a burning aura coated his body. Some of them had quivering limbs as soon as they saw him dropping their weapons.

“He-he’s a demon!” One bandit screamed before sharp claws erased his grim face.

“No, he’s an angel!” Another tried to approach Larson with hands together as if in a prayer, but he was gutted out. “He has come to deliver us to heaven.”

Ghastly screams filled the room. The men fell one by one, bathing in their own blood. With a raging roar, flames licked at the wooden wares and rocky walls. Merlize, still unconscious, had not a scratch on her body, nor did she fall over her chair. Even I, the narrator, could hardly believe it.

When the flames reached her chair, Larson swept Merlize out of her seat. She saw a faint silhouette of a humanoid dragon lifting her body and she passed out once more. The warehouse collapsed the moment they got out.

The dragon felt his presence withering. “No… no! It’s too soon!”

The crimson scales on his skin vanished into bubbles of air. The burning aura left his body, but the dragon’s soul remained inside his stomach. Larson fell onto the solid ground with a silent thud.

Larson’s eyes opened to a vast area where the grass was greener. A man in full platinum armor smiled at him, expectation shimmering in his eyes. “We meet again, son.”

“Dad!” He rushed to him like a child who had been away from his parent since forever.

His father pointed a sword at him. “Do not come any closer, my child. It’s not your time yet.”

“But dad…”

“It was nice seeing you again, Larson. May the heavens bless you.” He pursed his lips, blowing him away. The boy stretched his arms, trying to reach him.

Larson woke up, screeching like a frenzied husky.

“Oh! How long was I asleep?” Larson stretched his limbs. “More importantly…”

Beside him, Merlize had her arms crossed over her stomach.

He cradled her into his lean arms, shaking her body. “Hey… hey! Wake up!”

She smiled at him. In a second, her eyes widened, dropping the smile. “Who? What? Where?”

“Shh… It’s okay. I’m here.”

“My bow!” She immediately released herself from his hold and looked around. “Where’s my bow?”

“Let’s head back to town. I can buy you a new one.” He assured her.

“No. It has to be that bow! It’s the only memory I have of my people.” She pulled at her braids. “What am I going to do?”

A tiny bearded man waddled through the grass. “There you are, kids!”

“Edwin!” They both turned their heads toward him.