Chapter 12: Daerius
She is reading a book on dragons? I ask Angel.
Yeah, she says she doesn’t know anything about her own kind, she replies, sounding very confused.
Well let me know if she happens to find anything interesting, and I want that book when she is finished with it. It could be very useful.
“What are you going to do tomorrow?” my beta Cadyn asks me.
“The dragon. Isn’t she supposed to be at your side at all times?”
“Yeah, but I need to figure out a cover for her first,” I sigh, walking into my house.
“Daerius is that you?” I hear Angel yell as she jogs downstairs.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I call back. She has a thick book in her arms, covered in brown leather.
“Is that the book?” I ask and she nods.
“She finished it an hour ago, she’s a fast reader. I think it scared her though, her face was pale and she was shaking when she put it back,” Angel says, her voice full of genuine concern.
I take the book from her, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“What would she be scared of?” I mutter. She just shrugs before returning upstairs.
I let out a sigh, turning the book over in my hands.
“Well let’s find out,” I mumble, heading to my office. I sit down in my chair and put the book on the desk.
I look closely at the cover and realize it isn’t leather, but some kind of scaly skin. My guess would be dragon but I think their scales are bigger than this.
I turn to the first page and mutter a curse word under my breath. I read the fancy curled letters with wide eyes.
Dragons are one of the oldest shifters, dating back nearly 2,000 years. There used to be only four main classes of dragons, water, fire, air, and earth. But after several centuries, they evolved and split into multiple subtypes.
Each main class has its own special abilities, strengths, and weaknesses. The most docile has always been the water dragon, while the most dangerous is the fire.
Most subtypes of dragons are too many that there is no way to give them a name as the dragons are all too different. However, there is one subtype of fire dragon that first appeared around 500 years ago.
It is called a Fury dragon, there have been many fire dragons that show the exact same strengths and weaknesses, and therefore were able to be put into their own subtype.
Fury Dragons are not very common, most are killed in fights among their own at a young age. They are named for their extreme temper.
Fury Dragons are easily angered, and this anger makes them more powerful. The shifters often find it difficult to control their dragon once they have shifted into their dragon form.
Fury dragons feed off of negative energy around them, and the area around them heats up when they get angry.
Their dragon form is generally red or black. They have large bodies, massive wings, and talons and horns along their body.
Fury Dragons should not be trifled with as they are extremely dangerous and have been known to kill.
My jaw is clenched tightly and fear grips my mind. I slam the book shut and head upstairs.
I knock on Lyza’s door and walk in as soon as she replies.
“Are you a Fury Dragon?” I ask her and her face pales. She shifts uncomfortably on the edge of her bed.
“Yes,” she mutters, throwing me a nervous glance.
“Did you know about all that stuff?” I ask, as in my hand towards the hall.
“What stuff?” Her eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“In that book, about Fury Dragons being extremely dangerous and aggressive, and that they get more powerful with anger,” I shout and she shakes her head quickly.
“Not about the dangerous or aggressive part but I did know about the anger thing. My father told me when I was really young so I didn’t remember until I read it in the book.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” I ask angrily, running my hand through my hair in frustration.
“Because I don’t like remembering that stuff. My father taught me to fight and he taught me how to control fire, and during those lessons he would also tell me about my mother, and I don’t like remembering that,” she says, her voice fading to just above a whisper.
“What happened to your mother?” I ask and she sighs tiredly.
“Giving birth to a Fire Dragon is dangerous, giving birth to a Fury Dragon, even more so. There aren’t many female Fury Dragons around because they usually die giving birth.” She stares at her hands.
“So did your mom die then?” I ask, cringing when I realize how insensitive it sounded.
“Yeah, she burst into flames just as I was born. There wasn’t even a body left to bury. My father raised me, that’s usually what happens, the father raises the offspring.”
“Do you know anything about her?”
“A little, my father told me stories. He would do anything to protect her. One story he told me all the time was when he made a mistake one day that would change everything forever. He was with my mother, and they were running from some hunters that killed dragons for sport when they got separated,” she starts.
“My father was on high alert looking for her when he suddenly saw two people running towards him with swords in their hands. In a panic, he breathed fire and both of them died almost instantly. Only then did he realize that they weren’t hunters but a young girl and a woman, probably her mother,” she says and my face falls as this story begins to sound familiar.
“The swords were wooden sticks, playthings. He assumed they were playing a game, the girl had a tiny crown on her head and so did the mother,” she says sadly and a small growl escapes my mouth.
“What?” She asks, staring at me with fear in her eyes. I look at her with rage building in my chest.
“That girl was my sister, and the woman was my mother.”