Lov stalked from the training room. He enjoyed training with the Anuunaki, they pushed him to be faster, to strike harder. You didn't have to hold back with them, problem is, they won't hold back either. Lov examined a new cut he had received today. An Anuunaki female had sliced him across his shoulder, and the cut burned. Lov was beginning to suspect that Anuunaki coated their weapons in toxic substances. Not enough to kill, but enough to help their opponent stumble drunkenly.
Lov hated to lose, as he had today. It was embarrassing, but no where near as bad as what Nord had done to him. He still burned with rage when he thought back to that day. Two weeks had passed, yet he couldn't forget the incident. The young half-dragon resolved to sit down with Nord tonight and hammer out any resentment.
Lov passed through the door of The Purple Mushroom, and headed up to his room. As he stood outside, reaching for the doorknob, he stopped. Lov felt a presence in the room. He still carried the ax he had been training with. He swung it to a ready position, and kicked in the door. Lov roared as he charged into the room.
He raised his ax, prepared for anything... except for the sight of his grandfather, sitting in a copper tub of water, a small fire beneath the tub. "Ah, there you are!" Tryton said as he scrubbed his arms with a thick lather, "I've come to take you back to training. There are some things we still need to teach you." Tryton splashed water over his arms, rinsing the lather away, "We're running out of time, my boy."
Tryton jumped from the copper vessel, pulling the water from his body as he stood at its side. He dropped the ball he formed with it into the tub with a soft splash.
Lov averted his gaze. He'd never understand why his grandfather liked the old body look. The liver spots made Lov fear aging. His dragonhunger grumbled in agreement with that fear.
Clothing appeared upon Tryton, a long leather coat and breeches and a plain white shirt. He strode to Lov, reaching out and taking his hand before pulling his grandson through what felt like a small knothole.
Lov wanted to scream from being squeezed out and reformed into his body. When he could collect his bearings, he looked around. He appeared to be halfway down a cliff, walls extending above him in a rim. Large lizards, the size of a horse, sunned at the top of the rim flicking out tongues and searching around. One hissed right above Lov's head.
Tryton pointed up to the lizards. "If you had been born a true dragon, these would be your nursery mates." The old dragon strode to the edge of the cliff, looking down. Lov began to notice that it was warm. It felt as if the sun were shinning directly on his face, though where he stood was in shade. He walked to the edge and stood as Tryton did, looking down. Below them, a hundred feet down, reddish orange magma slowly cooled, covering with a black ooze like film. There appeared to be eggshells near the magma, but heat waves rose off of it, distorting the view. "And that would have been your crib." The sun crested the rim, sending bright light searing into Lov's eyes. He tried to cover them with his hands, but Tryton slapped them away. "I'm trying to teach you, kid! We don't have much time before you lose my guidance. Even now I feel the pull of my hunger, pulling me towards your grandmother." Tryton threw his hands up. "Or maybe I'm just deluding myself. I wanted to give the world one last dragon warrior to fight on their side. But maybe you aren't it."
Tryton jumped from the edge, his body expanding and reforming. His hands and feet transformed into huge Talons, each finger and toe stretching out to become a claw as long as Lov's hand. The nails were long, wide, and black. Tryton himself grew to the size of a house, his scales glowing blue and orange in the sunlight. His jaw extended, and his skull became the size of Lov's body.
Large wings, the joints in them raw and red, extended a hundred feet, and Tryton caught a heat updraft, sending him soaring into the sky. Lov yelled after his grandfather in disappointment, not sure why Tryton had brought him here.
Lov looked around the area, searching for a way to scale the rocks. He walked to where the ledge met the cliff, strapping his ax across his back, and started to climb. The young half-dragon slowly made his way up the cliff face, the world quiet around him, except for the hissing and bubbling of the magma below him. He found cracks and crevasses galore, so the climb wasn't that taxing. He pulled himself up over the rim, rolling onto his back to relax sore muscles, then stood, looking down to the ledge he was previously on fifty feet below. A sharp clacking noise caused Lov to turn and see what had made the sound. One of the baby dragons was attempting to stalk him. Its green scales seemed to shift color and blend in with the surrounding dirt and stone, the only sight giving it away, a sharp red outline that Lov never noticed before. Lov could feel the hatchling's eyes measuring him. It slid quickly across the dirt, moving faster than any reptile Lov had ever seen. Large powerful jaws snapped open and shut, flicking its forked tongue out every so often, testing the air. Lov stood frozen by fear. As the young one approached him, Lov's hunger screamed and railed inside his head, demanding he flick his own tongue out, to assess the danger.
Lov's conscience mind was stunned, as if in a trance, unable to respond. His dragonhunger took control. He flicked out his tongue, tasting the young dragon's aura. There was no malice, only curiosity. As it approached Lov, the half-dragon stepped towards his brethren, his arms outstretched, attempting to convey peace. When it was no more than a few paces from him, a large claw swept down, snatching the hatchling from the ground, and tearing gouges from the earth. It let out a piteous cry as it was carried away.
Lov watched the larger dragon, its wings fully formed, stretching in a wide expanse of a soft sky blue and white. It blended into the sky very well, the faint red outline all that pointed it out to him. He zoomed in on the outline and definition came into focus. A large bony ridge extended from the skull, and there were three long horns upon the nose. The larger dragon reached down and ripped the head from the young baby dragon. The juvenile chewed upon its snack as it flew from Lov's view.
Lov looked around him, noticing things he hadn't before as the primal instinctive air sunk in. There were numerous red outlines all around him. Each of them belonged to a young dragon, and they were all different sizes. The second thing he noticed was the taste of the air. It tasted of hostile intentions as often as it did of comfort. Lov watched as some of the outlines attacked each other, slamming together and bowling apart, over and over. Every once in awhile, an outline would stop moving and fade. The survivor always either stooped to eat its dead brethren, or left in search of another fight.
Lov considered his options. One thing was for sure, he didn't feel safe on this rim. He walked to the edge of the cliff, and slowly made his way back down to the ledge. The sun was shining brightly, and Lov felt the heat from below as well as above. It felt wonderful, and he felt rejuvenated by the hot air.
Lov took a seat on the ground, considering what his grandfather wanted him to do. Tryton had brought Lov here for a reason, if only he hadn't flown off before telling his grandson what! The young half-dragon stood and walked to the edge. He considered the way down, looking for an easy climb. As he was searching the walls, he saw stairs appear, their outline clear as the sun dipped below the rim opposite where it had risen. Lov began the long climb down the sharply cut stones. They twisted and turned annoyingly along the rocky wall, more a ladder than actual stairs. Nothing prevented Lov from falling a hundred feet to his death, but he had no fear. Halfway down, the steps narrowed to where there was barely enough room for Lov's feet as he climbed down. He needed all of his concentration to maintain his balance, and when he looked down, his dragonhunger tempted him to just jump the last thirty feet. That was nothing to one dragonborn. But Lov shoved the voice aside, instead concentrating, passing the five steep and small steps, descending to an easy climb to the bottom.
He approached the edge of the magma, looking at all of the cracked shells that haphazardly covered the ground. Every color of the rainbow, and some not on the rainbow, littered the ground. The shards looked like multicolored iridescent shale. There were large shards upon large shards that had been grinding other shards into dust. It felt like a sharp rocky beach.
As Lov neared the magma, he felt surrounded, as if he were tucked tightly into a warm blanket. The air felt thicker, and he felt his skin begin to dry.
An itch spread all over his body. He began scratching at his scales, softly at first, then as hard as he could as the itching persisted. Tiny pieces of the interlocking armor began to fall off, scaring Lov and causing him to stop. He climbed back up to the ledge and curled into a ball, refusing to scratch himself no matter how hard his hunger pushed him.
It was a long night that passed in an agony of itching that Lov refused to assuage. Sleep finally claimed him when the moon stood well into the sky, exhaustion and stress dragging Lov to unconscious bliss.
The next couple of days passed in an itch-filled agony. At one point, Lov surrendered to his hunger, using the cliff face to scratch his backside. It felt amazing, and Lov sighed in pleasure as he scrapped himself. But the sight of his scales littering the ground worried him still, and he forced himself to stop.
Lov's stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn't eaten in several days, but he still buzzed with energy thanks to the same dry heat that was causing his scales to itch. Lov's belly rumbled at him again, and slowly his dragonhunger, its willingness to do anything to survive, took control.
He climbed up the cliff wall, his consciousness trying to wrestle control from his instinctual side. The young half-dragon crested the rim of the cliff wall, his eyes searching for the now familiar red outline.
He spotted one, twenty feet from where he peeked over the edge of the cliff. His hunger roared inside his head, and Lov leaped over the edge, pulling his ax from behind his back. Lov charged the red outline, his mind scrambling, attempting to slow his hunger and make himself slow down and think. He lept a rock, and came face to face with what he hunted.
A large juvenile dragon, small wings only halfway formed, sat sunning itself upon the rocks. Lov's consciousness noticed that this beautiful specimen, a dark purple that turned green as the sun hit it from certain angles, had grass growing beneath it. Everywhere else was sparse vegetation upon the rock, but under and around the purple beast, the grasses had found a home.
Lov heard a high pitched roar escape from his throat, his hunger driving him towards food, and a relenting of the pit in his stomach. As the dragon startled awake, the grass began to fade. The purple of its scales turned to the blackest night, and as it roared, green gasses curled around its upper jaw.
Lov didn't slow down, charging forward, roaring back in challenge. The other dragon jumped into the air, flapping its wings to glide over the teen. Lov swung his ax at the beast's belly, but the dragon was too high, and it swung through empty air. The juvenile spit out a thick ball of green goo, which missed Lov, and hissed as it splattered the rocks.
Lov watched as the beast landed, no more than a stone's throw from him. The dragon spread its jaws wide again, and Lov dove to the side as thick goo landed where he had been but a moment before. He came to his feet, a large stone in his hand. He reached back and threw it as the dragon opened its mouth again. It choked as the stone landed in its gaping maw, stopping the acid from being projected.
Lov charged as the dragon struggled to spit the rock out. It chomped down, cracking the stone in its throat, and opened its mouth to spit at Lov. But the young half-elf was close enough to do something about it this time. He swung his ax, catching the beast across its eyes, blinding it. It flailed wildly, roaring in pain. Lov stood just out of the dragon's reach, watching it swing about, trying to find the assailant that had stolen its vision. Seeing an opening, the young half-elf swung his ax down through the adolescent dragon's skull before it could locate him.
The smell of fresh blood inundated Lov's nostrils, causing his mouth to water. Lov tore into the dead dragon, ripping hunks of flesh from its body. As his hunger was satiated, he felt his control return. A sense of horror filled him at what he had done, consciously or not. Lov didn't want admit that there was dark part to his soul.