The Final Storm (Part 3)

Someone Pays a Visit

The next day was, if anything, worse than the one before. This time, guards stood sentry in front of his cage, forbidding anyone to throw anything that looked even remotely like food. His cage was pulled up so that he was out of the shadow of the castle and into the burning sun. Actually, that was the best part of it all. Jaydon was like a lizard in the light and soaked in all the warm rays he could.

But the rest was horrible. He was starving to the point of madness. And his Rider had been sucking his energy all morning. He couldn’t keep it up much longer.

They had given him some brackish water to drink. He had gulped it down before throwing the bowl at the soldier, hitting him on the forehead. “Hah!” he yelled as the soldier tipped over like a top-heavy cart.

The other soldiers rushed to his aid, dragging him from the scene. One of them turned to glare at the dragon, his face twisted in a sneer. “Great job, demon. Now that’s the last water you’re getting ever.”

Jaydon smashed himself against the cage, his fingers curled into claws around the bars. He laughed, his voice harsh, “Have fun. I can survive a lot longer without water than you can. And you better enjoy the last days of your life because when I get out I will kill you and all your puny friends.”

“Really? Because last time I checked you were the one in the cage,” the soldier retorted.

Jaydon hissed, flashing his forked tongue.

The soldier blinked, his impish face blanching before he back stepped and tramped away with his friends. One soldier was left, and he eyed Jaydon nervously out of the corner of his eye, hefting his pike.

Jaydon rolled his eyes and sat down heavily on the filthy cage floor. The mesh floor was digging into his skin, leaving red marks on his legs and feet.

Then his hazy mind registered something; he had just flicked his tongue at those soldiers. “What?” he said, flicking his tongue again, going cross-eyed trying to see it. He nearly roared with joy. “Yes! It wore off!” he whispered excitedly. Now he could get revenge on all those stupid humans! He could just imagine their astonished faces as they beheld his awesome glory. I’m going to crush them and set fire to everything they own. Heck, I’m going to burn this stupid city to ashes! I’ll make them all wish they had never been born. I will call up the greatest hurricane that any man has every beheld! He smiled a very draconic smile before closing his eyes and concentrating as hard as he could.

He thought of turning into his dragon self, with his massive wings, angular head and horns, sinuous body, and winding tail. He thought of his impressive talons and long spikes on his hocks, neck, and tail. He laughed in his head, knowing that the soldiers were soon going to realize that they had made a huge mistake.

He waited for the screaming to start. Nothing. It must be done by now, he thought. He opened his eyes.

Tan legs were folded tightly in front of him, his arms resting upon the knees. No scales. No wings. No tail. Right about then he felt like he could have started crying. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Ouch!”

Something had cut him on the nose. He looked around suspiciously before realizing it was his own nails. Except now his nails were pointed and a light grey, about two and a half inches long. He stared at them, twisting his wrist to look at them from every angle. “Well at least I’ve got my talons,” he said to himself. “Or at least part of them.” Quickly, he inspected the rest of his body but nothing else was different. Just his tongue and nails. Great.

But while he had not been concentrating on his nails, they soon faded back to the short, white human nails. “What- no. Don’t!” he whispered hoarsely, concentrating on it again. Painfully, the talons rose from his hands, curving maliciously, the points deadly sharp. He smiled.