The Dragon's Cry

You aim a punch at Silvera's face, thinking of nothing but Beyno's claim about the cause of your birth father's death. Her reaction is a powerful fireball spell, which catches you square in the belly and throws you back against the wall.

Against the blur of unconsciousness, you see Silvera standing over you, shaking her head sadly. "Poor misguided youth art thou. Sleep, little one. Wash away thy concerns."

She raises a petite but imposing hand over your inert form. A soft shower of violet sparks sprinkles down. You try to protest, a deep sense of foreboding suffocating you. But no sound comes and you fall into darkness.

You groggily awake in a soft bed, looking up at a cavernous ceiling.

"Awake, little one?"

"Oh, Mother," you say, "I had the most awful dream! I dreamed you and Father were caught in a fire and I couldn't save you. And then, I was captured by... by the King, no less! And this silver woman saved me, Mother. I owe her my life, yet s-someone told me that the woman had killed my birth father. And she was threatening to kill the King! I-I tried to save him and avenge my birth parent, but I failed, Mother. And... And... Oh, I'm so confused!"

You place your slightly throbbing head into your cupped hands.

"There, now, little one. There is no need to be worried anymore." A hand gently strokes through your green hair. "Everything will soon worry you no longer, dragonling."

Dragonl- No...

You turn to see the silver woman Silvera sitting on the bed, staring at you intently, eyes cold as ever, mouth quirked in a sardonic grin.

"You could be such an asset as you are, dragonling. It is a shame Beyno had messed with your mind so thoroughly. I am afraid measures must be taken so that such things will not happen again."

"How...? Where...?" You try to run but you find you are frozen in place, immobile.

Silvera's tiara glows.

"I would have liked to keep your mind and experience intact, dragonling," Silvera continues, "but I fear Beyno has contaminated all that is useful. I am sorry, but I see no choice but to wipe your mind clean."

"WHAT!"

"I promise it will not hurt, dragonling. You will wake up with no memory of what has happened in the first 19 years of your life. You shall have no worries and be able to work with a clean slate and most importantly, for your task, a clean mind."

"But I don't w-"

"That is inconsequential, dragonling. There is a task to be done, and you are in no state to perform that task to which you are assigned."

"Assi-" Your mouth suddenly locks in mid-word.

The tiara glows brighter.

"Your task is no longer a matter for your present self, dragonling." She raises a statuesque arm above your now prone body. "Now, again, sleep. Let your troubles wash away. Lose yourself in the warm glow that is my light. Sleep."

You try to struggle but to no avail. "Lose yourself"? No, you don't want to do that. But the glow of Silvera's tiara is so soothing and you ARE tired. Maybe sleep isn't such a bad idea after all.

NO! A part of you screams. But the cry is weak. You're tired of running, tired of life, in general. Maybe your new self will go on spectacular adventures and save the world, but for Shree, Weredragon of Rhee, this is...

The End

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