Acheros

Acheros - river of sorrow

An ever-wandering contagion stretches underneath a bleak sun, rotten, sticky streaks congealing on the ground like dark fungus. The scattered remains of a nest litter the blood-soaked ground at his paws. Behind him, the shadows looming into the already dim light of the cave seem to grow even darker. Blood glistens across the deep purple scales of his paws, cooling on the talons. Golden eyes fixate on the other dragon with a looming sense of dread. His gaze shifts to the magic fluttering in his enemy’s chest, the energy pouring out of him with every sluggish thud of his heart. The dragon laughs, the sound muffled by the blood pooling in his throat. Fangs stained crimson, he smiles up at Acheros with a wicked sort of glee. “You understand now, don’t you, dark one.”

All power demands blood and sacrifice.

The words are bloodcurdling, a warning he’ll never forget. But despite the feeling of fearful disgust, he doesn’t feel anything as he watches the life drain from the other dragon’s eyes. His mentor, his friend, the one that raised him up and taught him how to use his powers is dead and he can’t feel regret at all. He’d gained all this power to protect the ones he cares about but he has failed.

Almost afraid of what he’s becoming, the young dragon swallows thickly and averts his gaze from the bloody carnage, focusing on the power that’s trying to form around them instead. Swirls of inky darkness slowly fill the cave, blocking out his view from the dragon that lays broken at his feet.
As dark and lifeless as the shadows are, they also seem to be alive in some way. With a brightness that’s almost blinding, the center pulses in rhythmic thuds, making Acheros take a careful step backward. Something is trying to manifest directly in front of him, and even before it becomes truly visible, Acheros can feel the power rolling off it in an almost purring whisper.

With another hiss of air, the shadows thicken, solidifying into a more rigid and recognizable dragon shape. For a moment, he breathes a sigh of relief until a chill claws its way across his spine.

Somehow the dragon-shaped shadow looks familiar, watching him with glowing eyes he has seen somewhere before.

The next thing he notices is the shadow’s smile. Even in the twilight, the blood glints red, gushing from its gaping maw in rivers of brilliant crimson. Too much blood.

He wants to move, needs to, but his body freezes up in shock as he meets the shadow’s eyes. Fear courses through his veins and wraps itself around his heart, making him feel as if his legs are going to give out at any moment. Yet, he remains in his spot, unable to even lift a wing.

Then the shadow drifts a step closer, then another, and another.

With eyes wide enough to show white, Acheros tries to wrap his head around what he sees. He no longer stands inside the cave, or so it seems, but in a world shrouded in shadows and carcasses, a land where the putrid smell of burning flesh drenches the air and death lingers just beyond the horizon. He can’t stop the reflexive curl of his wings, ready to either defend himself or run. It’s startling to feel that irrational fear contract the muscles in his shoulders, trembling with a longing to be as far away from that thing as possible.

“Who are you?” He asks, the question dripping from his teeth with bloody reluctance.
In a language he doesn’t know but instinctively understands, the creature whispers, “You.”

With a strange sort of anticipation, he glances up at the creature’s eyes; its shadowed talons ghosting across his scales and feeling as real as the weight of that word. His pale-eyed smoke version stares at him, a way too familiar maw grinning back in a twisted mockery of his own. “What do you want?” Acheros asks with another growl, digging his talons down hard enough to hurt his own paws.

The mirror version of himself laughs, “The same you want!” The voice chides.

“No!” Acheros hisses as he tries to take a step back, “Just leave me alone, I don’t want anything from you.”

“You can’t escape your power.”

“I don’t understand-I didn’t-” He snaps his wings open and tries to hold back a shudder, the shadows around him undulating almost violently with the sudden surge of emotion.

“You might not remember, but you can’t deny the blood on your talons, harbinger. Besides,” The creature laughs, “You cannot lie to me any more than you can lie to yourself!"

“What lie?” Acheros asks. He knows the creature wants something from him or it would’ve killed him already. He holds his wings to his back, muscles straining with the effort to stay still but it’s a futile effort, so he closes his eyes. Focusing on his own thoughts instead. He can feel the edges of his sanity slip through his own mind, all jumbled and loud and it’s making him nauseous. Then the smell hits him. A disgusting scent of something rotten. With a shake of his head, he tries to get rid of it but it cloys at the back of his throat like the taste of spoiled meat.

There’s mockery in the creature’s tone, like an elder looking down on his pupil, “Dragons are but flesh and blood bound by magic. They know their eventual doom but only a few have the strength to overcome that fragile bond, to become truly immortal beings.”

“And I can grant you that strength,” It rasps in a hushed breath.

Some part of that sounds tantalizingly tempting, but at what cost? Time hadn’t been gentle on his mentor; years of training and hardships until he’d mastered the arts, only to wither away from old age soon after. Maybe he can surpass his mentor, or at least live long enough to try.

Murky shadows dwell at the edge of his vision; stirring, pushing at his soul every time he blinks, “Let me in.”

A monster is pacing at the threshold and he’s going to let it in. It should terrify him but he doesn’t remember when he has stopped feeling. Was it before he killed his mentor? With a grimace, he tears down his mental walls and invites the creature in. It feels so different than what he’d expected, instead of pain, Acheros’ blood surges in delight with the rush of power. His mentor hadn’t shown him how to channel those darker forces, but by raw instinct, he knows how. In a slow surge of adrenaline, he draws the darker magic within his soul to the surface, first a trickle, then a sudden flood reaching into places unventured, making him hiss in pleasure. Like life being brought back to a sleeping limb, suddenly his entire spine is alive with sensation. It burns underneath scales, sizzling every nerve along the way as it crawls through flesh. Bones and tendons crack and stretch, his entire body burning with pain, but god does it feel good.
With a final shudder, it stops; settling over his muscles like a layer of new skin.

Acheros breathes just to be sure he still can then opens his eyes again. He lifts his paw, seeing no difference but he knows something has changed. Is still changing. “What are you doing?” He asks, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

“Making us something more, something better even.”

“And what would that be?” Acheros sneers, feeling his control slip as the creature spreads out inside.

“Destruction!” The creature cackles, stretching Acheros’ lips into a menacing grin.

Dark spots cloud his vision, pulling him down into endless darkness that makes him feel so heavy. There’s a howl of pain somewhere as shadows dig into the meat of his thigh but it’s distant. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, seconds or minutes maybe but they still feel like endless hours as a surge of power drags him under; feral, hungry, and empty like the void.

“For now,” it croons, “you will sleep as I play. In time you will learn.”

bio by Owari26