Dawnbreaker [Inheritance Cycle]

10. Awakening

The dragon was no longer than her forearm, yet it was dignified and noble. Its scales were deep ruby red, the same color as the stone.

But not a stone, she realized. An egg.

The dragon fanned its wings; they were what had made it appear so contorted. The wings were several times longer than its body and ribbed with thin fingers of bone that extended from the wing's front edge, forming a line of widely spaced talons.

The dragon's head was roughly triangular. Two diminutive white fangs curved down out of its upper jaw. They looked very sharp. Its claws were also white, like polished ivory, and slightly serrated on the inside curve. A line of small spikes ran down the creature's spine from the base of its head to the tip of its tail. A hollow where its neck and shoulders joined created a larger-than-normal gap between the spikes.

Serafyna shifted slightly, and the dragon's head snapped around.

Hard, crimson eyes fixed on her. She kept very still. It might be a formidable enemy if it decided to attack.

The dragon lost interest in Serafyna and awkwardly explored the room, squealing as it bumped into a wall or furniture. With a flutter of wings, it leaped onto the bed and crawled to her pillow, squeaking. Its mouth was open, like a young bird's, displaying rows of pointed teeth.

Serafyna pushed aside her doubts and slowly approached, sitting cautiously on the end of the bed. Hesitantly, she extended a hand towards it.

The dragon smelled her hand, then nibbled on her sleeve. She pulled her arm back.

Despite her caution, she found the creature rather cute. A smile tugged at Serafyna's lips as she looked at the small dragon. Deciding to be a bit bolder, she tentatively reached out with her left hand and touched its flank.

A blast of icy energy surged into her hand and raced up her arm, burning in her veins like liquid fire.

Serafyna recoiled and fell down onto the floor with a wild cry. An iron clang filled her ears, and she heard a soundless scream of rage.

Every part of her body seared with pain. She struggled to move but was unable to, as if her limbs had seized up, entirely unresponsive to her commands.

After what seemed like hours, warmth seeped back into her limbs, leaving them tingling. Shivering uncontrollably, she pushed herself upright with an effort of will.

Slowly and carefully, her breathing fast and shallow, heart pounding frantically, she looked herself over. Her left hand was numb, fingers paralyzed.

Alarmed, she held up her arm and turned her palm upwards. Her eyes widened, watching as the middle of her palm shimmered and formed a diffused white oval. The skin itched and burned like a spider bite.

Serafyna blinked, trying to understand what had occurred.

Something brushed against her consciousness, like a finger trailing over her skin.

Being on edge, she instinctively jumped and looked around, but saw nothing. A moment later, she felt it again, but this time it solidified into a tendril of thought through which she could feel a growing curiosity.

It was a peculiar sensation, as if an invisible wall surrounding her thoughts had fallen away, and now she was free to reach out with her mind. It was a sudden, innate understanding that she couldn't put into words.

She was afraid that without anything to hold her back, she would float out of her body and be unable to return, becoming a spirit of the ether. It sounded irrational but at that moment, it seemed very plausible.