The air tasted different as I left the scorched edges of the Red Waste behind. Dust swirled in lazy spirals beneath my vast wings, the cracked earth shrinking below me, giving way to the wild grasslands of the vast plains. The scent of burning was still faint on the breeze, a reminder of the destruction I'd left behind.
Ahead, the land shifted into the rolling fields of the Dothraki Sea. A great throng of riders moved like shadows over the grass, their long hair streaming like banners in the wind. They were scattered like dark flecks on the pale earth, mounted on horses swift and proud, their weapons glinting in the sunlight.
The Dothraki. Nomads of these endless plains, fierce and free.
My wings beat the air with slow, steady strength. Years had changed me — my scales were darker, tougher, marked by countless battles, my bulk grown beyond that of any dragon I'd known as a hatchling. But inside me, something older and wilder stirred. It was a fire far hotter than any flame I breathed. It smoldered deep, an ancient hunger waking from a long slumber.
I had told myself I was just a creature of flight, of curiosity — a wanderer seeking the horizon's secrets. But that wasn't all I was anymore. The dragon in me was growing stronger, louder, more commanding. I felt it in every beat of my wings, in the heat that pulsed through my veins, in the fierce beat of my heart.
I did not want to burn them. I told myself that.
But the fire inside would not be denied.
From high above, I watched the riders below. They saw me, their eyes lifting skyward. Their horses whinnied, bodies tensed like bowstrings ready to snap. I heard their shouts carried by the wind, the clash of steel and the pounding of hooves on hard earth.
They meant to fight me. To chase me away.
A low growl rose in my throat. The heat gathered like a storm behind my ribs. My claws dug into the air as I dove downward, wings tucked for speed.
The dragon within took hold.
It was no longer just a need for survival — it was a hunger, a craving for the power coursing through me. My roar shattered the quiet, a terrible sound that rolled over the land like thunder. Flames curled from my maw, fiery tongues licking at the riders, the horses, the tents. The smell of smoke and singed flesh filled my nostrils, a scent strange yet intoxicating.
I burned them because I could.
Because the dragon inside me demanded it.
Because a part of me, buried deep beneath years of human memories, thrilled at the destruction.
Flames spread fast, devouring tents and flesh with equal hunger. The Dothraki screamed, scattered like leaves in a gale, but many were caught in the fire's cruel embrace. The sound of hooves pounding in panic, men shouting orders or curses, horses screaming in pain — all echoed around me as I circled above, wings casting wide shadows on the burning earth.
I was no longer merely a traveler, an observer. I was a force of nature, a blaze that could not be tamed.
Still, even as my fire raged, a small part of me recoiled. The human heart inside me wept silently for the lives I destroyed, for the agony I caused. I wanted to look away, to stop, to fly far away and forget the taste of this violence.
But the dragon would not be denied.
The heat inside me was a tempest, pulling me deeper into itself. Every breath of flame fed it, made it stronger. I felt the rush of power, the surge of dominance, the intoxicating freedom of wielding destruction at my command.
It was exhilarating.
And terrifying.
When the flames finally died, the land was scarred black and charred. Smoke drifted up in thick columns, twisting toward the sky like dark fingers. The horses had fled or been consumed. The riders, many lost, many broken.
I felt the weight of my wings grow heavy as I rose higher, away from the ruin below.
A storm raged inside me, pride in my strength, guilt for my actions, fear of what I was becoming.
For years I had clung to the last threads of my humanity, to the memories of who I once was. But the longer I lived as this creature, the more those threads frayed and snapped.
I was changing. Becoming something new. Something more.
The dragon.
The destroyer.
The flame that burns all it touches.
And yet, a small voice whispered deep in my soul, a plea to remember the man I was once to hold on, even as the fire threatened to consume all.
I spread my wings, cutting through the wind with practiced ease, and set my course toward the north, where unknown lands awaited.
Behind me, the smoke curled and faded, a dark mark on the endless plains.
Ahead, the horizon stretched wide and wild.
And inside me, the fire burned ever brighter.