Darkened Secrets [BEING REWRITTEN]

Prologue

A dragon flew overhead, his wings beating like thunder. His rich green scales flashed in the sunlight, hints of autumn orange creeping along his spine and wing tips. His dark brown eyes were filled with malice and spite as he surveyed the humans below. His wings were translucent, nearly invisible from a distance.

"You are not to attack the humans," his queen had ordered him earlier before he had left their settlement deep in the mountains. The very queen who he had served under for his entire life.

But Zerkon didn't care.

He craved the blood of his enemies too much to care. Dragon hunters had crossed the line when they killed his brother. Now, humanity was about to discover just what one pissed off primal life dragon can do.

Zerkon circled above the village, his acid sacs filling up. The humans below pointed up at him, eyes wide. Some cowered in their wooden shacks while others grabbed whatever sword or pitchfork they could find.

Pitiful.

To a regular dragon, a dragon hatched without the gifts of primal power, this display would give good cause to worry. But primal dragons, whose scales were thicker and claws sharper, would have no reason to worry unless they were injured or couldn't fly. Even then, primal dragons had much more powerful magic than their regular counterparts and, once that magic was mastered, would truly become one with their element.

Zerkon enjoyed this power. Enjoyed it a little too much as he rained acid down on his enemies. Houses melted away, screams of pain and terror sliced through the air and rang in his ears. Humans fled in every direction, but Zerkon only had to give a pull on their life force for them to freeze on the spot long enough for him to swoop down and shred them with his claws.

He could just drain the very life from them to strengthen his own, but that'd be no fun. He could also turn them into plants as long as their will was weaker than his own, but that was too merciful for the life dragon's liking. Zerkon wanted to hear the humans scream and for the hunters to know exactly what he had felt.

Zerkon roared as he claimed victory. For all the villagers were dead. Or so he thought.

One human had slipped through his claws and was now running into the nearby forest. The human, a mere boy no older than twelve, leaped over fallen trees and dodged the bramble bushes that threatened to snag on his clothes. Sweat coated his skin as he held a dagger in one hand while pieces of hay lay cluttered in his dirty tangled hair.

The boy slipped on the grass, just barely avoiding a black puddle of foul-smelling acid that the dragon above had sprayed. Branches littered the ground from last night's wind storm, making the boy's journey all the more treacherous as he was possitive that if he were caught then the dragon would surely grind his bones for lunch. His hand clenched tightly around the dagger.

Maybe. Maybe. He should kill that dragon. Avenge all the innocent people the blood thirsty beast had slaughtered.

Snap!

The boy cursed. He had stepped on a twig and now he'd have to be the luckiest boy in the world for the dragon to not have noticed. But, knowing how keen dragon ears were, he bolted towards the woods, kicking up blades of grass in his wake.

Zerkon's head whipped around in the boy's direction, a hiss escaping his maw. How had he not sensed the boy before?! He searched for the invisible string that was the boy's very life force. A string that was burried among thousends upon thousends of other strings.

It was like trying to navigate through a swamp while wearing a blindfold, but Zerkon knew this swamp well. Too well. Those with strong wills to live were pratically glowing in his mind and had a barrier around their string - a string that he couldn't touch without draining his own energy and strength. The more powerful the string, the more energy it took from him if he dared try to sever it. Those with magic had strings that pulsed steadily and almost dared the life dragon to try to steal their power.