Prologue: Birth of a Monster

22nd of March, 1673, a clearing near the Red Forest, Dalia.

   It all began with a fire. Just as he recalled the flames engulfing his mom's farm, Kevin watched the blue flame in the woman's hand, mesmerized by their beauty. It was a starless night, and even the moons appeared shy. The forest whispered with a low rustle, chilly winds robbing treetops of their last leaves, acorns falling somewhere, a stray owl hooting.
   The flame was beckoning Kevin, and yet only his sight was drawn to it, other senses tingling and telling him to stop, as if his whole mind was splitting in two. The woman smiled.
  “Kevin, miller's son, is this your true wish?”
   Taken out of his stupor, he shook his head.
   “Teacher, when we first met, you told me to always speak my mind. The truth is, I'm afraid.
   -As you should be. Do you understand that for all intents and purposes, bearing a dragon’s power should not be taken lightly?
  -I am.
   He tried to focus more on the flame, less on the woman. Now that he thought about it, even keeping eye contact had always been challenging, because any time he was, things appeared on his peripheral vision, as if by talking to his teacher he was unwillingly inviting other creatures.
   -Do you understand that your choice carries personal responsibility?
   He did. The tales of old spoke of dragons blessing mages, zealots, more rarely knights. And yet the human body wasn't built for such a boon. One spark, and one's limits were shattered, replaced with new horizons. In one word, the price was shapeshift, alteration of body and mind.
  -Do you understand that even if you survive, you'll be by no means immortal, cursed to either die a man or become one of us?
  Honestly, it was unacceptable, Kevin thought as he noticed the blue Flame growing weaker. After all, the Church taught was monsters were the devilspawn, dragons especially. But men couldn't move mountains.
   -I accept it, a voice that wasn't his spoke.
   -Kevin, oh Kevin... The woman's voice changed to a low growl.
   Suddenly, goosebumps. He felt cold tiny hands coil around his sweating neck.
  -Don't you know that this is cheating? Heresy?
   I …”
   An inhumanly loud scream blew his eardrums. The boy fell on his knees, wracked by a sudden pain inside of his skull, which gradually spread to his body. His cheeks got wet with something warm, his fingers dug the soil in spasms. Before he turned blind, he noticed he was crying red. Then a piercing, ringing sound deafened him. He clumsily stood up, his memory reminding him of this clearing having a tree, good, I can touch it, then a large stone, rumored to be the grave of some knight of old. He looked at an inscription: “Sir Gweir”, then up, and he saw her. The woman was sitting on the stone, except it was and wasn't her. The blue flame now reflected off tiny scales, a serpent's skin. When that thing landed, it send Kevin flying against a tree. Picking himself up, his sides pointed to maybe a rib fracture. All he could smell was soil, iron and smoke. He felt very cold, and yet after the creature opened its mouth and he ducked on instinct, the tree caught fire. Then it felt its clothes burned.
 Alarm bells told it to run, but each step was painful. It only remembered it had to survive. No! not it. Him. Her. Who? Kevin. His skin could burn, his innards could burn, but The he still had to move, else he won’t move again.
 He darted off on wobbly legs, crashing against tree trunks, stumbling on rocks, roots and even small animals. His legs worked, somehow. A squirrel fell on his back and didn’t let go. It scratched his exposed, burning skin, but he no longer felt it. All he needed was to get away from that thing, get away from the blue fire.Fire. Fire. His lungs were on fire. Finally, the animal dropped off into a spring, judging by the babble of water. Kevin too jumped in, and the sudden cold shook him aware. He swam and swam, until he reached something big. He clung to it for dear life while drifting away, the spring growing into a river. The dead tree bumped into a bunch of twigs. Even running for his life, Kevin knew not to disturb a beaver's home. He quickly swam ashore and ran past the twigs, down stream. A gust of wing blew in his face. He could barely see, but he surmised it came from the South. Alledgedly, a hermit lived by the river, yet Kevin prayed he wasn't home. The creature must've set the forest on fire – bird noises above meant the exodus had started. Kevin bit his lip. Come on, dear two legs, you can fall of later. At least a mile. At least this one mile. Into the field. Else I am toast. Further away, or the smoke will still get me. Haha. The boy tried to laugh, but barely produced a cough, his throat parched. The pain, body-wide, wouldn't stop either.
   Step by step, he walked forward, sometimes droppin to a crawl. Crap. There's a sharp branch on the ground. I guess there's a hole in my gut. See? Hahaha. It's wet. But don’t worry. I’ll still make it there. I promise.
   Smoke reached his nostrils. Covered in scratches, bleeding speed, Kevin still walked. He could smell the smoke now. And see a hulking mass run past him. But twas not the monster, that thing had antlers. Not knowing how, Kevin mustered his last ounce of strength and willed himself to catch him. Propelled by an unknown force, he leapt into a sprint until he could see the moose' eyes. He jumped forward and dug his nails into the skin. The animal bellowed, but still ran.
   Out of the woods, way into the fields, then close to another river, where Kevin let go. His mind foggy, he crawled to the shore and hungrily drank, then rolled to the side and slipped into a doze. Something stumbled past him, drank loudly and went to smell him. Kevin's hand brushed past its wet muzzle. A farmer's donkey. He was safe.