

The Dragon's Secret Name
Kasey B. đș · Ongoing · 162.6k Words
Introduction
For some time, Kate was used as a source of magic for the Pale King, until one day she managed to escape, alone, cursing herself for not being able to bring her sister with her. Pursued during her escape, what she didn't expect was to be saved by a great black dragon who has no wings. He fought off her pursuers and let her go.
Years later, Kate never forgot her sister or her savior. Now she acts as a mercenary, and she wants to find ways to confront the Pale King and get her sister back, even though she fears the girl won't even remember her. But she heard that a great black, wingless dragon will be put up for sale at an auction where magical creatures can be bought with their secret names written on a document of ownership.
Could he be the same dragon who saved her before? Would he help her again? She doesn't know the answers to these questions, but at this point, Kate is willing to obtain him, even if by alternative ways.
Chapter 1
Kate's POV
â Eight years ago
In this divided world, people believe things work much like a coin tossed in a lucky game: each side can only determine one winner. But it isn't so. The world isn't a coin. Things aren't a lucky game. There aren't just two sides. That's why I'm fleeing, even if I have no destination, even if Iâm uncertain if I'll be able to survive alone, hating myself for being so cowardly.
Fleeing it's been my only choice from the start, after all.
âWe don't want to hurt you, Kate! You know that!â I hear one of my pursuers shout from somewhere behind me, amidst the darkness of the forest.
"Please, stop!" the other pleads. I can sense the tension in his voice. "Master will kill us if we don't take you back! It doesn't have to be this way!"
Their voices echo through the trees, dark silhouettes towering around, their branches so dense I can't see where they begin or endâtheir foliage so thick it blocks the moonlight from reaching my eyes.
Indeed, they don't want to do any harm. They're just following orders. We've all been obedient, like dogs on a leash. But I can't bear it any longer.
My heart races, my feet ache, and the thorny bushes I navigate through to evade the two shape-shifters chasing me cut into my skin. But now, they're protected by a thick layer of wolf fur, while I only have the tattered rags I call clothes since the day I was sold by my parents to the repulsive fey I'm fleeing from.
Almost my entire body bleeds, but I won't turn back. I can't. Even if she was left behind.
Some people are born blessed with a gift (though I'd prefer to think of it as a curse), with magic affinity being the broadest and most coveted of all.
Well, I have two of these gifts, and that's why the fey can either adore or despise me.
My eyes see through the Veil, the thin layer magical creatures use to hide themselves, and my body is like an endless source of magic they can absorb to become stronger. That's why my parents, my sister and I lived in constant danger. We were attacked almost all the time by creatures wanting to kill me, merely because I could see them, and by those drawn to my magic.
That's when he appeared at our doorstep, as tall and white as a ghost, a silver crown upon his head and moon-chilled eyes. He offered three bags of gold, and my parents, tired of constant peril, didn't hesitate to sell their daughter. And for two more bags of gold, they sold my younger sister, still a mere baby then, who could develop similar abilities to mine.
We were taken to his palace, far beyond the border dividing the lands of mortals and fey, and I haven't seen her since, though I feel deep in my heart that she is still alive.
Sometimes, I felt I couldn't blame my parents for so much misery, that I was the sole cause of this mess, just for being born this way. But when I'd collapse from exhaustion after hours of serving as a magical battery for that pale monster, all I could do was hate them all.
Three bags of gold. That's the value of my life. And now, to salvage what's left of it, I'm nearly coughing up my lungs in a desperate race that's pushed me beyond the brink of exhaustion.
I almost stumble over a rock as my knees weaken, but I grasp onto thorny bushes to avoid falling. The skin on my palms burns as the thorns scratch and open more wounds.
I can't scream.
I'm holding onto the false hope that tracking my scent is harder than following the sound of my voice. Even as every inch of my body aches, I refuse to make any loud sounds. But if tears keep streaming down my face, it's not because a part of my heart wants to give up on this escape, but because I don't know how much longer I'll have the energy to keep running.
With every thorn leaving a trail of blood on my arms and face, with every burning line on my skin, all I can think of is the sister I'm leaving behind.
Even though she probably doesn't remember me, I haven't forgotten her and her lilac eyesâeyes that might also possess the power to see through the Veil. And if she also develops a body that's an endless source of magicâŠ
A suppressed sob chokes my throat, and for a split second, I close my eyes.
That's my biggest mistake.
Thanks to the darkness of the night, I don't see that, beyond the thorny bushes, there's a steep slope. I barely have time to distinguish the moment I start rolling downhill from the moment I crash into something hard, halting me from tumbling like a small mass of flesh, rags, and tangled dirty hair.
If my body was sore before, now I feel like I'll fall apart if I try to move. But I need to get up and keep running, or I'll be caught and taken back.
With great effort, I place hands and knees on packed earth and try to rise. My legs tremble, and my eyes are caked with dirt and dust. When I attempt to open it, even at the risk of getting debris in it, I realize I'm no longer at the mercy of the dense forest.
Above my head, a clear, starry sky serves as the grand stage where the moon presents itself to anyone willing to admire it. In front of my eyes, the large, hard thing keeping me from moving forward reveals itself as an entirely black wall, where I catch a distorted reflection of myself amidst an almost supernatural iridescent glow.
I also see patterns on it, resembling the scales of a giant viper. I glance left, then right, and this wall seems to have no end, or perhaps it's just my desperate mind playing tricks on me.
Placing a hand on it, I start seeking ways to climb and realize my fingers can fit into what seem like large, symmetrically arranged panels.
I can climb on this, so that's what I begin to do. My feet slip, almost losing balance more than once, but I manage to reach the top and slide down the other side as if descending a rocky hill.
The path opening before me is an open meadow, and I spot the silhouette of another forest on the horizon. However, as I'm about to take my next step, I fall to the ground, which trembles beneath my feet as a thick, elongated thing seems to descend from the sky solely to block my escape.
âWhatââ
Dangerously close to me, hissing words that also sound like thunder in a raging storm shake my eardrums.
âWell, well⊠What a terrible way to wake up after a boring day. There are rats crawling on my scales?â
My voice dies in my throat as a deep growl reaches my ears, making my chest vibrate as if the sound emanated from within me. I cover my mouth to stifle a terrified scream, but when I glance to my right, I'm faced with dozens of white, sharp teeth.
âOh⊠Youâre no rat.â The growl then turns into a reverberating snarl, finally making me understand how close I am to an enormous mouth. Its hot breath feels like it's burning my face. I can't move or stop trembling. âYouâre a man cub.â
Slowly, the thing in my path starts to move, and as my eyes adjust to the moon's brightness, I realize that's a long, black, scaly tail.
The scales of a giant viperâŠ
The mouth begins to move too, until the creature's large head fully enters my field of vision. I must be lying in the space created between its body's curvature, for the creature now looks directly at me, while its tail continues to block any potential escape.
As my eyes meet the creature's, I finally understand what this colossal being isâa dragon with scales as black as the night itself.
âI-Iâm sorry,â I try to say, but I'm afraid the dragon can't hear me because my hands are still covering my mouth. âI-I didn't mean to⊠Someone is tracking meâŠ!â
His yellow eyes are like two round headlights amidst scleras as black as his scales, with orange, vertical slits in the center. I glimpse from the corner of my eyes when a muscular arm raises his body, and this arm has a hand with five thick fingers adorned with deadly claws, larger than sword blades.
âOh, really?â I could swear I saw him raise an eyebrow.
He continues growling as stares at me. His sharp eyes seem to reach the deepest point of my soul, to see my sadness, guilt, and self-hatred for leaving my sister behind.
âP-please⊠Let me passâŠâ I beg.
The dragon opens his mouth even wider, and that alone is like a prelude to the end.
He will devour me.
A dragon is like any fey creature: it hates humans and wouldn't hesitate to kill one. But perhaps I deserve this. Perhaps being devoured now is a lesser death than spending the rest of my days serving as the magical battery for that pale monster.
Tears flood my eyes until I can barely see through the layer of water trickling down my trembling fingers, which continue to cover my nose and mouth.
Above me, I hear the howls of the shape-shifters, who must have just arrived at the slope that took me from one hell and threw me into another. And when I'm almost resigned to being pierced and crushed by the teeth of this giant reptile, he lifts his long neck and turns his head toward the howls.
He growls louder than before, and I swear I see him narrowing his gaze. But the dragon looks at me again, then at my pursuers, and what happens next leaves me bewildered.
The dragon's massive hand reaches toward me, and when I think I'll be crushed, he merely clasps me between his fingers and pulls me away, placing my feet on the ground and swiftly changing his posture.
He turns his back to me, and now I see that this dragon has no wings. He only bears two long scars on his back, right where his wings should be.
The dragon stands on his hind legs, supporting himself with his hands on the slope that threw me onto his scales, stretching his muscular body and giving me a sense of his true size.
It's majestic and terrifying in equal measure, and he begins to climb the slope almost like a cat scaling a tree trunk, but this scene is far from adorableâit's like witnessing the inevitable arrival of a calamity.
My brain snaps.
Is the dragon going after the shape-shifters?
Is he... saving me?
No, it canât be. Why would he do it?
Suddenly, I'm aware of my legs again. I can't miss this chance. Whether he's saving me or merely pursuing a more tasty meal, I have to get out of here.
I spring up clumsily, now turning away from the dragon.
Once more, I run even though my feet can barely bear it. Once more, I seek a freedom I'm unsure I can attain.
I don't dare to look back and confirm if the dragon changed his mind. However, a chilling shiver runs through my body when his deep voice resonates like thunder within my mind.
âWhen you find the river, follow the flow of water.
It will lead you to where the world was divided in two.â
Then, my frantic breathing and steps become my only companions.
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