PART 24

The bruising faded but the scars down his back where Galvinor had rend the flesh down to his spine would remain forever. This had taken the most time and energy for Ardent to repair.
“I will need to spend some time on your Dragon form as well. I think it's safe for you to transform again. There will be some residual damage, so don’t be alarmed when you feel it. I had to help you change back into a man before you passed out after the battle, or you would have bled to death in my arms.” Ardent was already removing his boots so he could transform into a Dragon so they could begin.
Dresden did not want to constantly be reminded about what rough shape he was in. It kept his hackles up and he wanted to hate Ardent for continuing to bring it up. He also felt angry about Ardent’s aloof approach to information. The Dragon man had told Dresden very little over the course of the week in the yurt. He brought fresh game and cooked for him like a wife. He made sure Dresden had clean bandages and cared meticulously for him, even through Dresden’s bad tempered fits. His dedication to Dresden was not only confusing but bordered on a servant which was below Ardent, and Dresden hated him for stooping to such a lowly position on his account. He was not royalty in any way. He was half dead, and couldn’t possibly be anyone of great importance if he could be killed so easily. Dresden’s mind was on overdrive. Since his transformation during the battle with the other dragons, he felt like his brain was on fire, like a headache that burned inside his skull. He couldn’t shake it off and refused to tell Ardent about it. He became covetous of his thoughts and feelings in Ardent’s presence, protective of his inner workings so the Dragon would not pity him any more than he already did, which was shameful enough to endure.
Dresden had enjoyed the idea that Ardent burnt the bodies of the other Dragons in the fire. He kept a trophy of each in which he hung in the yurt for Dresden’s enjoyment as he healed. From Tyndor, he had taken the spiked golden tail tip, that resembled a gigantic sea urchin. From Galvinor he had taken both the front legs that had almost severed Dresden’s spine. From Baylin he had taken his entire head and mounted it on a sturdy post that held up the yurt. He left the mouth wide open so it looked like the Dragon was screaming in pain; the same expression Baylin had at the moment Dresden’s sword came down upon him. Kizjin Kol remained very quiet in the corner, set away from Dresden. He had understood it’s thirst for Baylin’s life, but was perplexed by it’s incredible transformation into a wieldable object for a Dragon. Dragon’s required no weapons, they were a weapon. He had not created the blade to be able to do such magic, or so he thought. There were a great many secrets about the sword that had come to light over their time together in exile. This new development intrigued Dresden. Ardent had commended him on such a fine blade. Now that he thought back long enough, it had been Lazarus who had encouraged him to create the masterpiece. It had been Lazarus who was the head Cleric in the Temple on BasNassal, and it had also been Lazarus who went with him to Helagoth so he would have permission to use the ancient, secret forge there.
Lazarus. I owe you so much. Dresden stepped out into a snowy world. Still morning, the sun was blotted out by a sheet of white that dripped with lazy snowflakes. The air remained calm while snow fell to the ground silently. He walked over to the edge of the cliff where Ardent had taken off into the sky. He could see the tracks change from human footprints to huge Dragon claws that gouged the ground as he took flight. Everything on the mountaintop was a blanket of white. He could not see the mountain ranges in the distance or the forest far below and the sea was completely obscured from view. Like a womb, cut off from the rest of the world, Dresden considered his birth into a life that he had yet to understand. Ardent was a part of that, Vlad too perhaps and hopefully the Queen, if he ever made it back to Sveldin Donan. The Alchemist came to his mind again. Who was this elf? Why was he involved? It had frustrated him beyond patience that Ardent would not be forthcoming with his knowledge. He felt like a child in a new world while the adults around him decided his fate. What if he didn’t agree? What if he rebelled? Could he run from it or would that action be foretold too and was something he was meant to do as well? Damn Lazarus!
“Damn you Lazarus!” He screamed now into the mountains. The echo reverberated through the mist. “And Damn me too.” He added, heading back into the yurt.
Ardent returned before sunhigh with some items he was happy to see. They were human comforts. He had gotten Dresden a fur lined, leather coat that hung to his knees. Black in color, with very expensive looking buttons on the cuffs and front with a fur lined hood as well. He also brought back cheese, which Dresden had become quite fond of during his life as a human. Dragons would never eat cheese, even Dragons that changed into human form from time to time. They would eat the cow, but not be bothered with the creamy filling the cow could make. This felt trivial to him now, until Ardent refused the cheese when he offered it with a silly grin on his face. In that moment he realized that he had become quite human over the course of his exile. So much so, and so subtly that he had only noticed minor aspects of his personality changing until now. His temper, his daydreams, the mindless thinking and love for wandering. There were other bits as well but he pushed it aside when he looked at Ardent now. He studied Ardent for the first time since he felt strong enough to stand properly and noticed how he held himself, so straight, hardly betraying a breath, his movements were elegant even, Elvish, which is something that Dragons and Elves had always had in common. He was Graceful. This made Dresden feel extremely self conscious in his presence and he set down the cheese he had just been greedily horking down.
“You needn’t feel awkward in my company Dresden. I will not betray you in any way or belittle the changes you have made to yourself, even the unconscious one.” Ardent addressed him kindly, but his Draconian nature did not involve subtly in his speech at all.
“You belittle me by mentioning it.” Dresden shot back.
“Let us get on with healing your Dragon body my friend. We have much to do. Enjoy your frivolities for a moment and then join me outside.” Ardent dismissed himself after gesturing to the cheese and Dresden felt instantly sick to his stomach for his shortcomings. He really had fallen in love with cheese. He sat on the furs and rebelliously devoured the rest of the block. It was soft cheese, something that had been flavored with fresh herbs, probably sheep cheese, some of the highest quality judging from the smell and texture. He hated himself for loving the cheese. How pathetic I’ve become, he thought. How damned human of me.
He followed Ardent outside to a bright sunny afternoon. The clouds had cleared, leaving a crisp white glow to the mountain and surrounding landscape. Ardent had already transformed into a Dragon. His sand colored, opalescent scales glinted in the sunshine. His smooth scales and sleek frame gave him a lizard-like quality, less beasital and more beautiful. Instead of horns, he had long twiggy antlers coming out of his head and a lengthy curly beard from his chin. All four legs were covered in golden, tan, curly fur much like a clydesdale horse. He had powerful wings that spanned farther than most Dragons he had ever seen.
“Change now. Let us see what I still need to tend to.” His deep voice boomed through the clearing, incongruent with his sleek and graceful figure. Dresden stripped bare and transformed. Pain seared his back where the fresh scars stretched. He felt the burning in his head even more as he grew in size, and he noticed immediately that he couldn’t move his wings. He inspected himself, lifted each leg, craned his neck around to see where the pain was coming from. His wings were terribly shredded still. Ardent had assured him that they would work again, but they just looked like frayed strings, no wonder he couldn’t move them. He felt like someone was searing him with a red hot poker against his temples. He grabbed his face with both clawed hands. Ardent came over and breathed a soothing mist over his body. He touched Dresden’s back, and brushed his wings with gentle strokes. The pain in Dresden’s mind would not cease. He gritted his teeth against it. Was this residual damage from the battle? He wondered. He released his head and tried to remain stoic while Ardent performed the miracle of his healing. The burning shifted into throbbing. He felt as though his brain would burst. What is this? What’s happening to me?
“Ardent. My head! I can't, I can’t think!” He laid his face in the snow, rubbed it on the ground to dull the pain. He could no longer hide it, it was tearing at his flesh. “What’s wrong Ardent? What’s happening to me?”
“Your Dragon brain is waking up my friend. There is nothing you can do against the pain. Try to relax. Allow it to happen. You have been dormant for too long.” Ardent pet the top of Dresden’s head tenderly knowing there was no way to relieve the agony he was going through.