Soren trudged off to bed, his stomach full and warm.

  His mother had cooked a great meal. It wasn't anything fancy, but it had been his favorite since he was a child. His father had pulled a spinner out from the breeding cage, its eight legs still twitching as it hit the pot, and his mother had seasoned it with herbs and salt until the smell filled the house.

  It was a sharp scent that cut through the earthiness of the dirt floor.

  His belly was full, and his life was good.

  Still… something was off.

  The wildlife had grown scarce. His usual hunts had turned up nothing, not even tracks. Garrick had noticed it too, though the old man hadn't said much beyond a quiet frown and an early end to their lesson.

  "Son, remember, we need to wake up bright and early. We've got supplies to trade in town."

  Soren glanced toward the doorway. "Alright, Dad. I'll keep my window open tonight."

  "Don't sleep through first light."

  "I won't."

  By the time his head hit the pillow, he was already drifting.

  He dreamed of school.

  Of chalk and slate. Of lessons that had nothing to do with crop rotations or soil composition. It wasn't something he got to do anymore, not after he'd learned to read and write. His father always told him that was all he needed from the teacher; he'd been pulled back to the farm.

  Still, he had Garrick.

  Old man Garrick didn't teach letters. He taught survival, tracking, and how to knock an arrow. The way the forest spoke to him was something that Soren was coming to apprectiate and he was learning to listen.

  Soren didn't know much about the future. But he knew one thing. When his father passed, he wouldn't be carrying on the family business.

  He would hunt trophy pelts, and his kids could be as learned as they wanted.

  The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, pulling him out of his dreams.

  Soren hovered somewhere between sleep and waking. His body refused to move. He tried to scream with all of his might, but the only thing that came was a low moan.

  He felt a tremor. The dust on his shelf, which his mother nagged him to clean, began to fall on its own. It wasn't unheard of to get a small quake this far out from the city.

  Another came this time larger, the kind that rattled the boards under his bed. He shifted and found that his hands were responding to him once more. He pulled the blanket tighter, trying to sink back into sleep.

  The second tremor was lingering.

  Soren frowned, eyes still closed.

  The air felt… wrong.

  There was a tang in it that he couldn't name. But he knew it from the time lightning struck close to the farm.

  He swallowed and tried to ignore it.

  Then the third quake hit. Hard. The bed jerked violently beneath him, throwing him to the floor. He rolled instinctively, scrambling beneath the frame as the room began to tear itself apart.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Glass shattered.

  Wood groaned and split.

  The spiders in their cages began to whine, a high, keening sound that set his teeth on edge.

  "Mom?" he called.

  No answer.

  The ceiling cracked.

  A jagged line split across the main support beam. And the floor gave out.

  Soren dropped through the floor. The world flipped. And he slammed into the dining room below, the impact knocked the breath from his lungs.

  He gasped, choking on dust, just as something heavy crashed down behind him. His bed struck the floor, splintering wood where he'd been seconds before.

  He rolled, barely avoiding it, his hand striking something metal. His mother's favorite candlestick. It clattered across the floor and rang out before something else must have fallen on it,

  He didn't stop. He couldn't. He only knew one thing. Soren had to get out of the crumbling house.

  His parents would be fine. They had to be.

  He ran.

  He burst out of the house just as it began to collapse in on itself.

  The lanterns his father read by must have caught something, because the fire spread fast. Too fast. The sawdust packed into the walls for insulation fed it like kindling.

  Flames roared upward, devouring everything.

  "Mom! Dad!"

  Again, there was no answer.

  Soren grabbed a bucket from the barn and ran back, hauling water as fast as he could. One pail. Then another.

  It did nothing more than create steam. The fire didn't slow.

  It just… kept going.

  By the time the flames died down to a smolder, there was almost nothing left.

  Soren stood there, chest heaving, staring at the ruins.

  He expected to find something, bones, charred meat, anything.

  There was nothing.

  In a blink, his life had burned away.

  A sound broke the silence.

  A low growl that made the hairs on his body standup. The animals had never made that noise before. This was wrong.

  Soren turned, heart stuttering. The cries had changed.

  What had once been panicked bleating and hissing had deepened into something heavier. A collective, drawn-out moan that made his stomach twist.

  He moved toward the barn, slowly.

  And what he saw stole the breath from his lungs.

  The animals were… glowing.

  It looked like something was growing inside them. Pressing outward. Flesh split and their bodies twisted.

  Limbs cracked as they snapped in directions they weren't meant to.

  Even the lizard mounts writhed, their forms warping as something new forced its way to the surface.

  Soren took a step back.

  Then....

  Every head turned.

  All at once. Every eye locked onto him.

  They had grown silent.

  Soren turned and bolted.

  He didn't make it far.

  His foot landed wrong. There was a sharp crack followed shortly by another.

  Pain exploded up his leg as his ankle twisted violently, sending him crashing to the ground.

  He looked down. His foot bent at an angle it shouldn't. He prided himself on how he had never cried in pain when getting kicked by an animal. But the pain hit him all at once, and he let out a cry.

  Hot breath washed over the back of his neck.

  A thick strand of drool slid down into his hair. Soren froze.

  He knew that breath.

  It was Andrew, and he still had the smell of sugar from the cubes he had given him after the workday.

  He was small for a lizard mount, but Soren had raised him from a newt.

  Soren squeezed his eyes shut.

  He didn't want to see it.

  Didn't want to watch as the thing he had raised tore him apart.

  But the bite never came. Seconds passed. Slowly, Soren opened his eyes.

  The bodies of the other animals lay scattered around him, torn apart.

  And Drew…

  Drew had changed.

  Black, glass-like wings unfurled from his back, catching the firelight in sharp, jagged reflections. Horns curled from his skull, framing eyes that burned with a crimson that was uncommon in the breed.

  He wasn't a riding lizard anymore. He was something else entirely. Like a Dragon. And he was... beautiful. The thought hit Soren before he could stop it.

  Then Drew stepped closer. The ground trembled with each step.

  A low snarl rolled from his throat, deeper, harsher than anything Soren had ever heard from him before.

  Soren swallowed.

  If this was it…

  Then he wasn't going to lie.

  "It's okay, buddy," he whispered. "We had a good run."

  Drew's head lowered, teeth bared inches from his face.

  "If you're still in there… I wish we got to hunt the way we trained."

  For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then Drew twitched, violently.

  His body jerked as if something inside him was fighting for control. Muscles spasmed. Wings snapped tight against his back as a low, pained sound forced its way out of him.

  Soren stared.

  "Drew…?”

  The dragon writhed again the wildness in his eyes faded.

  Something familiar returned.

  Drew exhaled, a heavy, rumbling breath.

  Then, carefully, almost gently, he grabbed Soren by the back of his shirt and lifted him.

  Soren barely had time to react before he was placed onto the dragon's back.

  He blinked, almost stunned.

  "Are you really in there?"

  Drew huffed.

  The sound was unmistakable and something else. Maybe annoyed.

  Soren let out a shaky breath.

  "Yeah… okay. Stupid question."

  Together, they turned back toward what remained of the house.

  There wasn't much left.

  But they needed to find his bow at least. Vespara was changing.