Chapter 2: The Instinct to Grow
Kael'thir stood over the corpse of his kill, his breathing slow and measured.
The rush of mana still burned through his veins, coiling in his fragile core, spreading heat through his limbs.
His first meal had given him something real, something tangible.
Strength.
He could feel it, the faintest shift in his body—his muscles had tightened, his limbs steadier, his balance sharper.
It wasn't enough.
Not even close.
He was still small, his wings still useless, his body still far weaker than it should have been.
But it was a start.
And that was enough.
Kael'thir lowered his head, dragging his tongue across his bloodstained fangs. The sharp metallic taste lingered, but the corpse beneath him had nothing left to give.
He exhaled slowly, his crimson eyes turning to the fox.
She had not moved.
Not when he hunted.
Not when he killed.
Not when he devoured his prey like a starving beast.
She still sat on her broken stone, her white fur pristine despite the filth and blood surrounding them.
And she was still grinning.
Kael'thir did not understand this creature.
Everything about her was wrong.
She was not afraid of him.
She did not run.
She had watched him kill and devour, and yet she only seemed amused.
She was not prey.
But she was not predator, either.
Then what was she?
His claws flexed against the dirt.
It didn't matter.
She was not food.
And she was not stopping him from growing.
That meant she was irrelevant.
For now.
His instincts told him that figuring her out could wait.
He had something more important to do.
Kael'thir needed another meal.
The ruins stretched around him, endless and lifeless.
Even after killing the shadowbeast, consuming its mana, sharpening his senses—
He could feel it.
This place had nothing left.
The air was thin, empty of mana, the soil beneath his claws drained of power.
This was not a land where dragons should be born.
Kael'thir's tail flicked once, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
If he stayed here, in this graveyard, he would never grow.
His gaze shifted toward the horizon, toward the distant cragged mountains barely visible through the gray sky.
Far away, but not impossible to reach.
His instincts whispered to him.
Higher ground.
More prey.
More mana.
Kael'thir's wings twitched against his back.
He needed to leave this place.
Kael'thir moved silently across the ruins, his steps careful, controlled.
The wasteland stretched in every direction, an endless expanse of broken land and blackened stone.
The fox followed him.
He could hear her steps, light and silent, barely disturbing the dust beneath her paws.
She did not walk beside him.
She did not fall behind.
She simply kept pace.
Like a shadow.
Kael'thir ignored her.
She had done nothing to challenge him, nothing to get in his way.
So he allowed it.
For now.
His focus was on survival.
His body craved more.
One meal was not enough.
His limbs still ached from weakness, his wings still felt like useless weight on his back.
Until he grew stronger, until he devoured more, he was still nothing.
That was unacceptable.
The scent of water.
Faint. Distant. But there.
Kael'thir lifted his head, nostrils flaring as he inhaled.
Water meant life.
Life meant prey.
And prey meant power.
He turned sharply, his body shifting into a hunting stance, his tail lowering, his claws flexing.
The fox watched him.
Her golden eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the dim light of the ruined sky.
Kael'thir did not acknowledge her.
If she wanted to follow him, let her.
She was not prey.
And he was not stopping.
With silent steps, he began to move.
Faster.
Hungrier.
The scent was growing stronger.
And he would have it.
No matter what stood in his way.
Far beyond the ruins, something shifted.
Something felt him.
Something that had long waited for a predator to be born in this dead land.
And now—
It was awake.
The scent of water and life pulled Kael'thir forward.
He moved swiftly, his body still small, still weak, but faster than before.
The ruins behind him began to fade, swallowed by distance as the land around him shifted.
The ground was still cracked and dry, but the scent of moisture in the air meant there had to be more.
More than this graveyard of nothing.
More than death and ruin.
More than a wasteland unworthy of his presence.
He would find it.
He would take it.
And he would grow.
The fox followed.
Kael'thir could hear her, always just at the edge of his awareness.
She was silent, her steps light, leaving almost no trace behind.
She was a shadow, moving when he moved, stopping when he stopped.
She had not challenged him.
She had not spoken.
She had simply chosen to follow.
It should have annoyed him.
And yet…
She did not feel like prey.
Not yet.
So he allowed it.
For now.
Hours passed.
Kael'thir felt it in his limbs, in the ache of his bones, in the way his wings twitched with useless weight.
He was still too weak.
His instincts demanded more.
More power. More mana. More prey.
His thoughts burned with one command.
Hunt. Kill. Devour. Grow.
The scent of water was stronger now.
Close.
A ravine, carved into the land by time and erosion, stretched out before him.
At the bottom—a river.
Thin. Slow-moving. But real.
Kael'thir descended.
His talons scraped against loose rock, his movements steady. The fox followed without hesitation, her body slipping through the terrain as if she belonged in the shadows.
The air here was different.
Richer.
Stronger.
Kael'thir's pupils thinned into slits.
There was life here.
And life meant prey.
The first thing he noticed was the movement in the water.
A creature, long and sinuous, its body blending into the dark depths, barely disturbing the surface.
It was hunting.
But it did not know it was being hunted.
Kael'thir's tail flicked as he crouched low, his gaze locked onto the shifting shadow beneath the river's surface.
It had mana.
Weak.
Small.
But enough.
Enough to take.
Enough to devour.
His instincts roared—strike now.
He lunged.
His body hit the water like a stone, his claws slashing downward—
The creature twisted, its sleek form moving with unnatural speed, its long fins cutting through the river.
Fast.
Too fast.
Kael'thir snarled underwater, his limbs thrashing as he tried to force himself forward.
The river was not his territory.
Not yet.
His wings dragged him down, dead weight in the current, slowing his movements.
The creature fled, vanishing into the dark.
Kael'thir broke the surface, his claws raking against stone as he pulled himself onto the riverbank.
His chest heaved.
His body shook with frustration.
He had failed.
His prey had escaped.
Unacceptable.
A flicker of movement.
Kael'thir's head snapped to the side.
The fox was sitting a short distance away, her tail flicking once as her golden eyes studied him.
She was grinning.
His claws sank into the mud.
It wasn't amusement.
It wasn't mockery.
It was something else.
Something calculating.
Kael'thir ignored her.
She had done nothing.
She was nothing.
His failure was his own.
And he would correct it.
His prey had escaped.
But there would be more.
And next time—
He would not miss.
The night came swiftly.
Kael'thir settled beneath the twisted roots of a dead tree, his limbs curled beneath him, his body tense even in rest.
The hunger still burned.
The need to hunt. To kill. To grow.
But even dragons needed time.
His muscles ached. His mind was sharp but his body was still weak.
So he would wait.
And tomorrow—
He would hunt again.
The fox lay nearby, curled in the shadows, her eyes barely visible in the dark.
Watching.
Waiting.
Kael'thir exhaled slowly.
This world was still unworthy of him.
But soon—
That would change.