Fate

01 - The Black Dragon

Marco sighed. For the eleventh time that day. How the hell did he end up in that situation? Oh, yep, right. The storm. The distance. Sea. Not being able to swim if he fell in it. In less words, not to die.

But, damn it, maybe it would have been better than wait for five fucking days in a not habited island. The rain was crashing down around with thunders roaring strongly. Thank whatever God, the storm did not flood the entire island. He was currently in a shelter of his own making, hidden in the branches of a big tree.

Let's see... How did this mess start? He was returning to Moby Dick after a mission. Some pirates had attacked a city on their turf and were taken care of. On the way back, the sky had suddenly darkened and flying in the storm was highly unrecommended, so he had found rapidly an island and, just as he was landing, rain had started to pour with all its ferocity.

Five days without a single ray of the sun. He was seriously starting to feel annoyed and worried. Worried about his brothers and pops that were probably worried about him. What a fucking joke. And who on earth knew when the heck this damn storm was going to lift.

He sighed again, gathering some woods to lit a fire on the ground, rather easy with his flames, and started cooking a fish he caught in the river below. Luckily, it was blocked in a little pond, maybe because the river was so angry. He could hear it distinctly together with the thunders.

Over all, he liked the rain, its sounds were strangely soothing for him. Thunders, the river, drops of water. He closed his eyes, deciding that being in a foul mood wasn't going to help him, and bathed in the sounds around the tree.

Marco wanted to return to his family, he was starting to feel nostalgic. Five days had done this to him. Five days, and he missed the chaos Thatch was always doing, Izo's smirks, his pops. So badly at that. And the meals, the chance of using a real bathroom. He was becoming more and more like a savage. Really... Only five days. He should work on this, such a disgrace.

He almost fell asleep, but the smell of burnt fish made him snap. He took away the food with a sigh and started eating. Fortunately, the inside was well-cooked and he managed to eat it all.

A sudden crash made him flinch and stand. Then a cracked roar echoed in the night and Marco left the fishbone on the dirt, rapidly extinguishing the little fire with his foot. Other crashes made him flinch again and the pirate decided to quickly investigate.

He walked in the forest, following the noises of broken branches. Again, he heard a roar and a thud. It seemed huge, if the sound was any hint. Marco started running after another roar, more like a whine this time. The lightning gave him light sometimes, but otherwise he was engulfed by obscurity, so he had to call forth some of his flames on the arm.

He stopped abruptly when he came across a black wall. He noticed it and didn't bump into it only because the light of his blue flames wasn't lighting forward. He touched the wall, breath caught in his throat. He felt scales, wet hot scales. He increased his flames, being under a wide tree. The skin was shivering in his blue reflex. It was surely a huge beast, he couldn't see it entirely because the wall took the entire space between the trees.

Marco jumped up on a branch and made his way through. He saw a new clearing, enclosed on three sides by the black wall, and landed there. The sound of a weak breath caught his attention and made him turn around. The side, that he thought was clear, wasn't. A head was laid on the wet grass. His flames lit the feature of scales, horns along the lines of it, some bigger near the neck than those near the mouth, even bigger and bended in the place of eyebrows, and closed eyes. Small puffs of white air dissipated every now and then in front of its nose. Huge wings vibrated suddenly, soaking him wet. Marco shivered as a long, scaled tail snapped in the air.