Metamorphosis
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Photo by Guido Jansen on Unsplash
It started as a tingle. Just a faint, slight tingling at the tip of my fingers. Then the colour of my skin started to change. Most people would go visit a healer if they started turning blue, but…. I had my reasons. Even when my skin started to harden and turn to scales I didn’t ask for help. The scales expanded up my arm and even started to form on my face. My left eye started turning yellow. And the pain. The pain felt like someone had decided to grab my muscles and rip them apart. It felt like someone had inserted acid straight into my veins. The nails on my hands morphed into thick, black claws.
Whenever I left my home, I wrapped my arm up in a thick bandage and kept the hood of my cloak drawn low over my face. The apothecary knew what was wrong with me. I hadn’t told him, but he was smart. Thankfully he was also kind and gave me herbs and medicines to help manage the pain. Eventually, I couldn’t get myself out of bed. The entire left side of my body turned into scales and it started to creep to the other side.
Dragon plague. I didn’t know why they called it a plague. It wasn’t contagious. It only affected a select few. It was a “gift”, the ancestors used to call it. Until fear gripped humans and they called it a sickness. They’d killed off those affected, thinking they could catch it. I barked out a laugh that ended in a convulsion of pain.
Soon the fever started. My skin sweltered but no sweat came. Dragons didn’t sweat. Dragons were made of fire and heat. The problem was that I was only halfway there and there was no guarantee I would live to relish the transformation. In the old days, there’d be songs sung, and someone attending over me to help me through it. But those days were gone, as dead as the smelly rat that had crawled into my floorboards and died.
I dreamt of fire. It danced all around me playfully. It gently licked against my skin, and ruffled my hair. It was warm, comforting, and it embraced me.
A loud crack startled me out of sleep. I looked up in time to see a piece of the ceiling cave-in and fall to the ground. As I shielded my eyes from sparks, I saw that my right hand was now a giant paw.
Though the flames burned away everything in the house, I was untouched. I revealed sharp teeth with a grin and let out a mighty roar of flame that blasted away the rest of the house. I stretched out my wings with a mighty roar. Let the locals know that the last dragon had risen.
Leah Levert
Leah is a second year Professional Writing student. When she is not writing, she enjoys spending time with her two horses, Belle and Pippa.
