The eye of darkness
The body lay crumpled on the ground, broken and unmoving, like a tree struck down in a storm. Not even a twitch disturbed the silence. Blood soaked into the dirt, slowly pooling beneath the limbs.
Despite the appearances, something still stirred inside that battered shell. The mind clawed against the dark, desperate to stay tethered to life. The body had given in, but somewhere deeper, in the fragile chambers of thought, a spark remained. The brain flickered like a dying ember, struggling to hold on.
He hovered at the edge. Only one last step separated him from falling into whatever came next.
A light in the distance was beckoning, bright, golden and seemingly unreal. Suddenly, his body felt weightless, as if it were levitating in the air. A sensation of drifting penetrated his entire being. Something pulled him gently toward that glow.
This is what it feels like when you die, he thought to himself.
When a soul passes the valley of shadows, there is no turning back. Life becomes death, the link to the mortal world broken for all eternity.
And yet...A spark. Tiny. Persistent. It remained.
Hidden in the recesses of his mind, something refused to let go. The line between dream and memory blurred. It was difficult to tell what was real and what imaginary.
Maybe it was just the gods of the underworld playing tricks on him. Was he still alive? Was he breathing? Or, was he already dead?
Images surged through him. Faces. Places. Moments.
All of it. The totality of a life flashing in fragments.
Then, in an instant, it all stopped, replaced by one powerful image. A dragon appeared, out of nowhere, its wings spread wide across the heavens. The giant flying creature opened its mouth, as if trying to say something. Then, the image vanished, as suddenly as it had appeared.
The pull toward the light remained, but so did a voice. Small. Fierce.
Hold on, it kept telling him.
It wasn't over. Not yet.
The will to live was stronger than the will to die. Sheer willpower nudged him back to consciousness. The soul pulled back from the gravedigger's shovel.
And then... Agony.
His body convulsed with pain, as if a thousand needles had poked him all at once. The soul reeled, but it hadn't let go. He was still there.
Still alive.
Now he was sure.
A burn crawled through his veins. It wasn't just heat. It was a fever pushed past the boiling point, blistering him from the inside out. The fire was total, absolute. Resistance felt useless.
His lips parted, reaching for words, a name, anything, but only a soft stream of garbled nonsense escaped. Then, silence. Utter, and complete silence.
His mind slipped sideways into a storm of delirium. Visions crashed in like waves. First, a jagged mountain. Followed by a river of lava. Then, a dragon. Then fire. Then again, a dragon.
Dragon, dragon, dragon. It returned, over and over. The image refused to leave.
The beast grew sharper, its green scales rimmed in orange light. That glow deepened, first into crimson, then black. The color melted, became a river of blood, flowing fast and furious. Then came the dragon again, mouth wide, flames pouring forth.
YOU ARE READING
Dragonworld: The Drive For Power
Fantasi"An emotional roller coaster." In a world ravaged by war and chaos, where fate and free will collide, Pafe Tanamuse-a young outcast from the powerful Dragon Clan-embarks on a journey that will either lead him to unimaginable power or destroy him in...
