Chapter 6 :Wrath

Marcus Adorno had become a Silver Knight after ten years of training at the Silver order in the White Kingdom. After years of being treated like a mule, the moment had finally arrived. He was appointed just a couple of weeks back. The ceremony underwhelmed him. It was a private event with his Captain, the King, and the rest of the trainees, who didn't get his blessing; instead, he sent many of them to guard the side of the queen's family in some prosperous village.

Adorno despises people like that, unable to meet expectations. He had preferred quitting before being put out of knight material without probing himself worth of it.

It was apparent not everyone was made to carry the weight of the blade that hung from his back. He could not be happier than to show his superiors that the kid with the scar would be someone they would remember, and he couldn't wait to start. However, after a couple of weeks, He was sent to guard the city, a task it was below his talent, but he didn't fight his Captain. Thus, he had gone on a diplomatic mission with the queen. Understandably, Marcus wanted to go, to make his blade to use; its sharpness called for slice and trust unto some unholy creature.

Yet now that he had finally found one, he wasn't going to hold back. The blade at his grasp vibrated in small pulses as if screaming, 'let me out,' at which the rune craved in it sparked even more.

The dragon in front of him appeared young enough to be less than a decade old; his limbs were long as his predecessors, yet they weren't enough for Marcu's vision. Following the diagrams he had to see in his books, even in their youth, they could be able to transform at command completely, but this one bared no intention of becoming more than what he was.

"Was this one even a dragon? Had he been wrong on his readings?", It didn't matter; a creature was a creature. Marcus thought as he ran after the dragon, almost reaching his tail.

Arkin had a hand around Fenrir's neck, leaving him to view the knights' intentions.

"Fen, he is clo..ser" sweat fell from Arkin's forehead; his strength was vanishing since Fenrir had uttered the weird words.

"I know" Fen's paws stopped, surprising the Knight and leaving him vulnerable. As he quickly found himself in front of the creature, he put his sword in front of him, yet Fenrir Kromhart's plans came from another direction.

The tail emerges by the space on the back of the Knight, plunging him against a tree. Face in front of the trunk, alarmed by his unprotected back; he turns, sword and fangs meet.

The red runes glow as the long teeth scratch the blade's surface, leaving lines of sparks flying around. Both forces evenly pushed in opposite directions, yet Fenrir's claws were still accessible.

Before the dragon could claw the Knight, the blade between his teeth slid sideways, forcing Fen to hold his hand on the tree to stop the sword, yet it was too fast, and Arkin's back was on the trajectory of the sharp edge. Fenrir pushes away from his made-out cage, leaving the opponent free.

Both are out of breath in front of each other. The dragon breathes in, red droplets from his mouth suspend in the air; as he lets the air out, cut are his tongue and guns. Pushing his paws, he kept running.

Arkin was still feeble, but he could mutter by the dragon's ear.

"Fen, let me do..wn "Arkin felt the shake on the dragon's muscles; he was hurt already; if Arkin could get out of the way, it could be more manageable. They could even escape in different directions. However, the left side of his body was warmer, as if it was going to explode at any moment. What had Fenrir done to him?

"If I let you down, you will collapse" the dragon was running faster now, and his ears twisted, hearing the Knight's steps just getting closer. The air cutting the metal blade was loud enough that both kids could sense.

"Why?' Arkin manages to say.

"I put some of my core magic on your left arm. "Arkin's eyes shot wide. Magic? Fen continues.

"spells do not conjure a dragon's magic, but by Matras, we unleashed things we have hiding in ourselves by allowing them to come out when we are mature enough. In a desperate situation like this, my body cannot bear what it guards yet, but maybe just half of it" Fen turns to Arkin, the blade getting closer.

"It is said that ghost shelves, like your missing arm, can be good triggers. It would not harm you, but once you feel ready, we can use that."

'How- would I know? I am ready," Fen smirked. Even with the crimson still adorning his lips, he gave Arkin a comforting smile.

"We will just know," and his arm felt again holding Arkins back. His right talon landed on a rock; he used to dart behind him to land on his persecutor, yet the rock found no target. Fen instincts grew unnerved. There was nothing behind them. He let all his senses take over, yet the dark woods gave nothing away. He waited. Ears, tail, and eyes shot like a mad dog.

Arkin feared inhaling too loud to distract him, but the more they waited, the more shamefully optimistic he felt. The kid was about to suggest to keep running, but when he faced Fenrir's profile, he was frightened.

A blade had silently found its way to Fenrir's side, so close to Arkins dangling legs. Still, he had not even heard the steps of his owner near them.

As time had decided to prologue its stay, the sword was still, and both kids' eyes landed on the man with the overcoat. A twisted grim decorated the young Knight's face.

"I got tired of running "as he pushes the blade to the side, sliding everything in the way accompanied by a red line and the insight gore that fell after it. Fenrir flattens to his knees. The man gripped the sword to the side, cleaning it off the fresh blood.

"With these dents, this sword would not be good anymore; your head would give me a good enough promotion that I may be able to buy a new one." The Knight touches the marks left by Fenrir's mouth.' "or maybe safe it to remember the first monster I slay. My future grandkids would love this. " a chuckle follows. Marcus Adorno seems lukewarm by a memory of his grandkids playing with the sword.

Fenrir returned to his more petite frame, letting himself fall entirely to the floor; Arkin had been let go by then; he crouched beside his friend to see the wound.

It was worse than he could have ever imagined; he had seen rats, ducks, boards, being gutted, and sometimes the occasional bloody fight in Moons.

But the stir in his stomach and the weight on his chest that he detected when he saw the side of Fenrir were different. Arkin didn't spare a second to rip off his shirt, folding it into a nice amount of fabric to hold it on top of the horrible wound; the ashy color on the dragon became more like a white hue. The child was panicking; the blood was not at all red anymore; seem to turn almost blackish, flowing like water through Arkins ripped shirt.

"Please, Fen, stays here. Stay with me," A cold metal touches his cheek, the surface still wet with his friend's. Arkin glanced at the blade's owner; the smirk was still there.

"Let it go, kiddo. Go and get another pet" Arkin's pupils shrank.

"Fuck-"the tip of a boot encounters his stomach sending him to the side. Fen, barely conscious, saw the poor kid stumble to the floor with his eyelids heavier than his limbs. The movements were clumsy and uncoordinated. He held to the side where Arkin's shirt was still and prayed for strength.

Meanwhile, Arkin stood running again towards the Knight, who barely moved to kick him away again. Yet He didn't fly away this time; The blue-haired kid had grabbed the boot with his arm.

"You trash, let go. What is your problem?" the kid didn't answer; he bit onto the Knight's leg. Marcus Adorno was disgusted, he took the handle of the sword and hit the kid in the head, but no reaction came from it.

Fen trying to sit up, presences the hits, bloodied Arkin's head. It needed it to stop; just when he was about to scream at Arkin, the kid made eye contact with him; the blue eyes shone with a rush that traveled from his chest to his left arm.

The dragon sat up, catching the Knight's attention. The Knight's blade ignored the kid by his boot, focusing on the still living creature in front of him.

"You like this animal so much, don't worry, I will kill it, and then I will cut your other arm off, you trash." as the blade reaches the sky aiming at Fenrir's forehead, Arkin closes his eyes.

In the darkness, the silence was all it surrounded him.

There was still noise, but it felt like he was underwater. The pain was present; thus, it felt more like a tickle than a throbbing. Something was covering him, skin?

Something that it wasn't him; it didn't feel like him.

His eyes steadily opened; he was shocked when what he saw was himself, bloodied from head to toe, half-naked, and bruised. These eyes weren't his, and neither was this body. His were still close, and the knight blade was on his way down; time had slowed.

"Accepting this into you would not only affect your life but will tide you to me beyond death itself. 'Fenrir's voice sounded frail and distant as if Arkin was on the surface and the dragon lay at the bottom of this sea. Without moving, he felt his hand reach the young dragon.

"You can still step back, Arkin. You can reject it now. Let it die, and don't feed us. "From the bottom of the dense black that he tried to reach, he sensed the ghost of a smile." I wouldn't mind, friend."

Arkin felt anger rise in him, a destructive wave of rage, and the water around him slowly bubbled. His teeth gritted in a snarl, and his fist clashed to harm this nonexistent palm. All this was because of that Knight's fault, so obsessed with haunting Fen, who just wanted to get home. All this because that stupid tool would not listen and let them go. All because of rules and the kingdom's fear.

Arkin hated it all. In him, a glimmer had woken.

A fire had been lit.

The echo in Fenrir's body felt foreign; Arkin closed Fenris's eyes and opened his own.

The child's left side became heated, and lines of sapphire blues encircle the scarred limb until its severed elbow, making a circular sphere like the one in Fen's fabric. In front of him, Fen's skin was adorned by similar designs but with a red hue.

"What- "Marcus never got to finish his thought. Thus, in seconds, a hellish burn made its way from his leg to his chest. The blade unconsciously fell out of his hands, and the kid on his leg was left behind.

He ran to the ground and rolled, but his body kept heating up. The chart of his bones, the skin softening, and the temperature kept reaching his face. As he desperately slaps his body to put the blue fire away, he notices his hands… his hands were melting. An unconscious scream left his throat.

"That is the effect of a dragon's fire. "Arkin heard the words, yet he was too horrified at what was in front of him to answer, "we create fire from our core, so whatever we feel will come out as raw as it is, and that is wrath."

Fen saw how the Knight's shriek seemed to be unending. Wrath fire was known to be the most torturous one, it would burn slowly through your body for hours, and unless you enchanted, there was no way to put it out. The young dragon look at the human exposure to the tragedy he had created and pitied him. Mustering the last of his strength, he stood holding his side, forcing his muscles to grow again; his feet trembled, yet he gave a step one at a time until he had the blade that could have ended his life in his hand.

Arkin couldn't take his eyes out of the burning man, the scream, the melting flesh, the bone. The kid couldn't stop crying.

"I did that" as the fire evaporated into ashes that seemed like stars, a tall figure covered the unforgiven blue light that engulfed the Knight. His hand held a blade with a dragging tail and a bloodied side.

Fenrir Kromhart lifted the sword's edge once more, and as it descended, the scream, the light ceased to be.

The dragon leisurely reached his friend. The shirt, now black, seems not to be holding out anymore. As Fenrir Kromhart sat, he grunted. The young ones look at each other, wounded by the night's events.

"Would you forgive me?" Fen said without taking his eyes off Arkin's. His sight could not focus on the boy's face as before. He had never cared for humans and their conflicts. Their morality was as complex as the patterns in butterfly wings, yet Arkin was easy to read. He could not hide anything, and Fenrir could see the footprints of fear on his features. Fen had made him experience hate against his hero and kill it with it.

"What are you talking about, Fen? the blue hair kid couldn't understand the dragon's words; all this had been Arkin's doing. He had brought the dragon into the city and put him by the Knight's path.

" I should be the one. This I got you here. I didn't know" Arkin found no sense in his words.

"This is all my fault," Arkin wanted to say more, but the dragon laughed; no, it wasn't just laughing; he was chuckling. Arkin flush.

"Fen"

"Let's call a truce." The dragon grunted, and blood sprouted out of his mouth convulsively

Arkin helped him lay down. The kid felt his cheeks wet; he quickly used his arm to clean his face, but they were unstoppable. Kromhart perceived his vision slowly fogging more.

The eyes in front of him that seemed to remind him of the clear blues of the Ashval sky were vanishing. He missed Ashval and his teacher, who he would never see again. Urgas Saget would never see him become a pale knight like his mother. He would never meet his last phase. He didn't cry, but he felt his face wet from someone else tears.

His hand, now small again, reached Arkin's hair; the kid desperately tore more of his shirt to hold to the dragon's side, but it was too late.

"I am so glad; the Drift brought our paths together. Even if it was so short." The hand on Arkin's head lost strength; before it dropped, Arkin held it.

"Fen, just hold a little longer."

"I am too tired, Arkin. "Fen could not move anymore; he still distinguishes Arkin's hand tightening around his just as it had been by the fountain.

As Fen's eyes close, Arkin lay beside him. Holding onto his friend, whatever magic he had used, it had started to take its price now. He fought it, but his eyes would take longer to open every time he blinked.

"Remember, I will kick everyone's butt if you die."

Fen's breathing was fading, and he wasn't responding anymore.

"Fen?'

....

Fenrir?" Arkin's eyes and body were too burdensome; he became dizzy; the branches, the flying leaves, and the clouds all moved too fast. He could feel everything and nothing at once.

"Arkin!!" a distant voice haunted him.

A recognizable one.