Chapter 4: Dragon Heritage Jewels

Chapter 4: Dragon Heritage Jewels

The large door to his room closed, as he crossed his own room laying the ancient dragonbone sword down.

"Alright, who are you? What is this?" He asked, seething a little aloud thinking it was part of whatever Marina had cooked up... even the king knew.... Anyone listening in would really have assumed that Sir Kalryn Zilantov had finally snapped and gone completely crazy.

Kalryn's voice trailed off, his confusion and frustration evident as he sat alone in his chambers, glaring at the dragonbone sword lying before him on the table. He rubbed his temples, trying to make sense of the day's events.

It was then that the voice, clear and resonant, echoed in his mind.

["Kalryn Zilantov, I am Meorlus Zyphorax, the Eternal One, the last remnant of the ancient dragons. I offer you my condolences for being the last of your kind, but also my congratulations for finding the last vestige of our heritage."]

The knight's eyes widened in shock, his body tensing as he scanned the room, searching for the source of the voice, the threat but there was nine he could see. However, he knew that name, had heard and read stories of the ancient dragon who had once ruled the skies. "No way...Who...?" Kalryn stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared at the dragonbone sword, as if expecting it to stand up and answer him. "Who said that? Who are you?"

The voice in his head, deep and resonant, spoke again.

["I told you, I am Meorlus Zyphorax, the last remnant of the ancient dragons. And you, Kalryn Zilantov, are the last of your kind, the final heir to the dragon's legacy."]

Kalryn's, his grip tightening on the edge of the table as he tried to process the words. "No, no, that can't be true. I'm a knight, not a... not a dragon, not a literal beastly dragon." He shook his head, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "I don't believe you." Kalryn spat out, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he struggled to process the impossible revelation. "I am a knight, not some...some monster."

The voice in his head remained calm and steady, as if used to dealing with disbelieving humans.

["Nonsense Kalryn Zilantov! If you were merely human, your body would not have begun the transformation process. The dragonbone sword you hold is no mere artifact; it is a key, designed to awaken the dormant dragon heritage within you. You were accepted as a candidate because you are more than just human, more than just a knight."]

His grip on the table tightened, his knuckles turning white as he fought to maintain his composure. "But-" he started, his mind racing as he tried to grasp the implications of what he was being told. "I don't understand. I feel... different, but- Whatever you want me to do, I won't do it!"

The voice in his head interjected, its tone patient and filled with humour, yet firm.

["Check your manhood, Kalryn Zilantov. Feel the change that has begun to take place within you."]

Hesitated for a moment before speaking, a mix of apprehension and curiosity coursing through him. He had felt a strange sensation earlier, a tingling that was both exhilarating and unsettling. He remembered the sudden growth, the strange and almost painful swelling that had seemed to come out of nowhere. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he reached down, his fingers brushing against the fabric of his breeches. He felt the change immediately, the unnatural size and the unfamiliar weight.

His fingers brushed against something hard and slick, and he gasped, his eyes widening in disbelief. Bursting out into laughter, the knight asks the voice, "...so... what? Do all dragons just have a large set of dragon heritage jewels on them?"

["They all once did, yes."] The voice brought gravitas back to the severity of the predicament of being the last.

Idlely the knight played with his member, trying to get used to the new size, like a child going through puberty again but he was 19!

Until he stopped and the voice asked, reading his thoughts.

["What?"]

It took a moment before Kalryn's answer came, "You say I'm qualified for the dragon legacy but I don't know where in my line that would ha e come from. I'm a noble from the proud Zilantov family, an only son but I had parents."

His voice Kalryn stated faltering slightly as he processed the implications of Meorlus' words. "I know my lineage. I'm... I'm human."

The voice of Meorlus Zyphorax was thoughtful and careful in its reply, carrying the weight of ancient wisdom.

["What I can tell you from the analysis when you held the sword. Your human form is a clever disguise, a shroud woven by your dragon ancestry to keep you safe. You do not know your true lineage, for you are a pure dragon, born to a draconic mother, who shaped itself into a human form around nineteen years ago tomorrow."]

"That's... that's impossible. I remember my parents... I was born to them." He breathed in deeply, trying to steady his voice, but it came out as a shaky whisper. "I can't be... I can't be a dragon. I'm a knight."

He stood up abruptly, his manhood saluting to his anxiety, his calves pushing the chair back with a loud scraping sound. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he could feel the blood rushing in his ears, drowning out the voice in his head. He paced back and forth across the room, his eyes darting from corner to corner as if expecting something to leap out at him. "I'm going insane," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I must be. This...this has to be some sort of trick, some sort of jest. The king, he must have arranged this, to test me, or...or perhaps Marina, maybe she's behind this! Yes, that's it, she's always had a peculiar sense of humor." Kalryn's hands were trembling as he paced, his voice rising in pitch, desperate to grasp at any explanation that didn't involve him becoming a dragon.

Meorlus chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to echo through Kalryn's mind.

["You're not insane, Kalryn. This is no jest, no trick. Your lineage is as I have told you, your dragon heritage disguised in a human form herself and so you believed yourself born human were a dragon born in a shroud."]

Kalryn stopped pacing abruptly, his breath catching in his throat. "But...but how can that be? I remember my parents, their faces, their voices. I look like them..." Kalryn's voice trailed off, his hands shaking as he tried to comprehend the impossible situation he found himself in. He felt a sense of panic rising within him, a desperate need to deny the truth that was being laid bare before him.

The voice in his head, deep and resonant, rang out clear and firm, leaving no room for doubt or denial.

["Kalryn Zilantov, you may wallow in disbelief if you wish, but know this: your dragon heritage is now bonded to you. You have an obligation, a duty to fulfill. You must restore the dragon race, for you are the last of our kind."]

Kalryn froze in place, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. The words echoed through his mind, leaving him with a sense of awe and fear that he had never known before."Restore the dragon race?" he laughed, a harsh and bitter sound that echoed off the walls of his chambers. "What with this thing?" He shoved his semi-hard, long penis out from the opening of his breeches, making his point clear. "How am I supposed to restore a race with...this?"

The ancient one, Meorlus' voice in his head remained calm and steady, as if accustomed to the initial disbelief and shock of those who learned their true nature.

["Indeed, but your physical form is but one aspect of your transformation. The dragon's essence within you will grant you powers and abilities far beyond what you currently possess. You will begin to learn how to cultivate and transplant dragon souls, creating more dragons and restoring the lost ones. This is your duty, Kalryn Zilantov; you are the last of all the dragons, and it falls to you to restore us to what we once were."]

Staggering back as if physically struck by the weight of Meorlus' words. He clutched at the edge of his desk, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. This was all too much to take in, too much to grasp all at once. "I... I can't do that," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just a knight, a human... I don't know how to... to create souls, or transplant them, or... I'm not a mage-"

["You'll grow into it, Kalryn,"].

The dragon spirit actually laughed at him.

["You have no choice now, as your dragon blood awakens. All the Claw of The Ancients and my dragonbone sword dos was connect you to me. I merely began the process of awakening your blood and removing the shroud you were born in. Thankfully, you now have me here to guide you."]

Meorlus' voice echoing in Kalryn's mind, a ominous presence making such an announcement amidst the storm of doubts and fears that raged within him.

Kalryn's eyes widened in shock, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the dragonbone sword, as if it could somehow reveal the truth to him. "You mean... I'm going to change? I'm going to become a... a full dragon?" he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if he was afraid that speaking the words aloud would make them more real.

The voice chuckled again, the sound warm and wise, like the rumble of distant thunder.

A massage, different from Meorlus' voice rang out in his head again.

[Dragon Shifting Bonding: 0.5%]

[Estrmated Completion: 40 years]

"...and what's this about?! 40 years? I'll be an old man by then, good luck restoring the dragon race by then." Sir Zilantov tested, "I'd be an old man by the time I change into a dragon."

["Time moves differently for dragons, Kalryn. What a dog is to a human, is roughly what a human might be to a dragon. Each twenty of their years will feel like one to you after the dragon heritage bonding fully completes. You still have time, my young friend."] Meorlus Zyphorax's voice washed over Kalryn's mind, soothing but eerily patient.

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to grasp the implication of Meorlus' words. He rocked back on his heels, his eyes narrowed in thought. "So, you're saying that... that I'll have time to learn how to... how to be a dragon, before I am a dragon?" he asked, his voice still tinged with disbelief but laced with a glimmer of hope.

["Precisely, Kalryn Zilantov. I'm telling you that you still have a little time to be human before you are a dragon. These next forty years will be the last time forty years will feel long for the rest of your life. As the bonding speeds up, so too will your aging and time perception slow down."]

Meorlus' voice hummed in his mind, a headache growing.

His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He felt a strange mixture of relief and apprehension wash over him. On one hand, he had been granted more time than he had expected to live as a human, to enjoy the life he had always known. From his understanding dragons could live for thousands of years. On the other, the weight of the responsibility that lay ahead was a burden he could not ignore. He looked at the dragonbone sword on the table, its gleaming surface reflecting the flickering torchlight, a constant reminder of the destiny that would out wait him eventually.

Kalryn sank into the chair behind him, his knees suddenly feeling weak. He stared at the dragonbone sword on the table, the reality of his situation beginning to sink in. He had time, more time than he thought he would have. More time than any one human ought to have...

["This time you have before you is yours to live as you choose. Enjoy your next forty years of life as human, for when you wish to begin the duty of restoring the dragon race, I shall be here to guide you. Remember, this span of time is but a fleeting moment to one who has seen continents rise and sink beneath the waves."]