To not do so is a grave insult, reserved only for outcasts and the disowned.
I don’t have the proper tools here, not the blessed knife and bowl, but I will have to improvise. To walk away without performing them would not sit well with me, even if this dragon is unknown to me. I was once their king, and that drive to protect them does not simply fade, it is ingrained into me.
Pulling out the knife I stole from the angry fallen, I slice along my palm and walk around as much of the body as I can, letting droplets of my blood drop onto the body.
“Incremento dislesi, I, Askaliarian of Klasfor, King of the Great Dragons, release your spirit. Relsa spirto, continue your journey, rider of the skies.” After I speak the ritual words, I step back, watching the blood start to sizzle as it melts through the thick outer shell of the dragon. Where it does, I spot the pinkened skin of the human inside start to emerge. It takes a few minutes for the dragon to melt away, and with it, the dragon’s spirit is released, which is now at rest and allowed to move on.
All it leaves behind is the human body. A lot of dragons believe that because we are born in dragon form and spend a lot of our early years stuck in that shape, it is our true form and the human side is our shift. I think we are born of both, which is why we bury the human body or burn it.
Crouching, I turn the corpse slowly to see the face, and when I do, I sigh. I knew him. His short, shaggy dark hair is familiar, as is the royal slope of his nose. He was a mere boy when I left. He used to follow me around the palace, trying to fly, always wanting to shadow me. I often showed him attention. It is sad he is dead. He was strong and proud, everything a dragon should be. That pride is probably what cost him his life. Picking up his body, I hold him delicately as I jump back to the top of the hill. I lie him down and trace my finger over his face. “Sleep now, my friend, your ride is through. I will meet you in the next life.”
Changing my hands back, I dig through the ground with my talons until I have a grave. It’s a good spot, high in the clouds where he liked to fly, and it won’t be disturbed. It is also where he fought his last fight. A noble dragon, laid to rest.
Shifting my hands back to human so I do not disturb or harm his body, I lay him in the grave and cover him in soil, patting it down until it is secure before sitting back on my haunches. I stare sadly down at the grave. It is a reminder of how long I have been gone. He was grown, a true dragon. I wonder what else has changed.
I shouldn’t think about it, that is not my home now, I left for a reason.
For her, before I even knew she existed, and now she needs me. They do not. I whisper goodbye before shifting and launching back into the sky. It is time to head to Rejek and the sleeping council.
They will come with me, I will give them no choice.
They will fear me, because with the way I am feeling now...they dare not refuse me.
“So the vampire doesn’t have a name?” Dume asks, lovingly stroking down my back.
“He either doesn’t remember it or isn’t choosing to, who knows, I might have to pick one because I can’t keep calling him vamp,” I muse.
Dume appears to be thinking, his hand stilling on my back. “What about Jair?”
“Jair?” I repeat in confusion, and he peers down at me, his eyes flashing red.
“It means to eat death, it is what they used to call the vampires when they were forced to feed on the dead and dying competitors in the fighting rings when I was a prisoner. They were quite literally eating death to survive,” he explains.
“Jair.” I let it flow from my tongue. “I like it, I will ask him.”
Just then we hear footsteps heading our way, so I leap to my feet and look at the chains and groan. They are obviously pissed at me for killing a guard and are still trying to break me and the vampire.