Kapitel 3: Shaggy
"Why? What reason could you possibly have for leaving the tribe??" The king bellowed, his eyes turned red in anger as he questioned her reasoning.
Below the dragon throne stood the Queen, her head raised unwaveringly as she stared right back at him.
"I don't feel safe!!" She yelled right back at the king. Her lips quivering, she stood still and carved an unrelenting figure "The life of my child is in danger, and I shall not sit idly by while his assailant roams free! This tribe can no longer keep us mother and son safe!"
King Novax glared at his wife, claws pointing straight at her as he took a significant step and arrived right in front of her. "Then you will forgo everything? Everything? Your daughters? You will forgo me?" No longer able to stand her antics, the king shot out torrents of questions angrily, though unknown to him, the queen was well too glad to answer him.
Without giving the king a single breath, the queen gave her reply. "Yes! I'll forgo it all! I'll leave everything here behind!! Trust me, should any harm come to my son... I..I. I will surely make you regret it." she saw surprise on her husband's face as he couldn't bear to believe what he heard.
"Sabrina," calling out the name of his first and only love, the king reached out his hand, she turned her head, avoiding his touch. "All this for a cursed child?" his face contorted in pain, but before she could challenge him to calling the child cursed, he relented. "Fine. I promise you, the child will be safe here; I will make sure no harm comes to him."
The king sighed and waved her out, no longer wanting to converse. He walked back to his throne and gave free reign to gravity as he fell back into it.
After the Queen left the throne room, King Novax turned towards a dark corner of the throne room, where nothing can be seen, but the king, sure of his existence, gave out a command. "Glaive, let the child live, for now, but keep a watchful eye on him."
Without ever leaving the shadow, a gruff voice rang out from the dark corner, "Your wish is my command, my King. But Sire, are you sure we should allow this cursed child to continue drawing breath? He..." King Novak's eyes gave off a red glow cutting Glaive off. Glaive cowered back in the corner, fading into the darkness.
"Grow stronger young Drazon, this world is not as friendly as the rest of the tribes might think it is. Something has changed and I can feel the world won't stay quiet for long", thought King Novax.
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Five years later.
A small dragon whistled by a towering structure. A gigantic palace stood there before the Great war cast a large and winding shadow on the ground. The extensive structure stretched into the clouds with eight massive towers, and a large fortress sized main building.
The Grand Palace, a massive structure made of branches from the world tree, is said to have been claimed by the dragons 300 years ago.
Young Drazon sped through the archway and corridors of the palace, as he played his own little game, chasing himself. The guards all held a look of disgust at the sight of him, but having grown up with such looks, Drazon didn't even notice, thinking such looks were normal.
Not until on a fateful day, one which the ever so loving sister Issa asked Drazon, "Do you not care that all the guards hate you? You can see it on their faces, everyone hates you."
Drazon, thinking Issa was lying because everyone always looked at him that way, was confused; he was just a child, it wasn't until later Drazon came to know what his sister, Issa, meant.
When he finally grew old enough to leave the palace, he soon found such looks were not exclusive to only the guards, but of every dragon he came into contact with. Once again, he asked his sister Princess Issa who was very happy to clarify.
"Of course they all look at you like that! You're red, after all. We're all green! Everyone knows being red makes you cursed." Teasing him, she said her words with a hint of scorn.
Drazon, who couldn't bear the thought of being unjustly hated, ran to his mother in tears. "Mom, why can't I be like everyone else?." The Queen, saddened by her son's childish wish, consoled him and whispered to him, "Son, you are different; yes, but do remember, different also means special."
He only exhibited how special and different he is a month later.
On the day of awakening, the little dragons gain the power of elements.
Under a large stone house, little Drazon stretched out his head in hopes of seeing what was going on at the front. All 5 to 8-year-old dragons stood at the Grand Hall. With no wings on their backs, the children were less than half the size of the winged adult counterparts.
Ever since the dragon claimed the Grand Palace, the awakening ritual had taken place in The temple of the palace. Due to their population at the time, it was the only suitable structure, now only 100 children sparsely dotted the area, not nearly enough to fill up the grand room.
The dragons were called to the front and fed a suspicious-looking potion, then placed on an altar shaped like an ancient coiled reptilian dragon.
Drazon looked at the weirdly dressed dragons surrounding the altar. Wearing grand sleeveless robes, large round brass rings circled their arms, and strange symbols traced their entire body. The priests chanted in tongues as the child on the altar began to scream. As if going through terrible pain at this moment, a ball of water floated out of the child's body, and another child fainted. After awakening, the younglings were individually escorted away by the weirdly dressed dragons.
Drazon kept shuffling his feet anxiously as he scratched at his ear. The awakening process looked excruciating, and Drazon wanted to bolt, but every time he looked in the front row of the stands, the loving smile on his mother's face gave him the courage to stay.
Finally, all the other kids awakened and left, all except little Drazon. The child, shuffling his feet like a goat, finally transversed the stage. A short distance that seemed like the longest journey of his life.
His mother stood up and approached him, gave him a little smile. Turning towards the dragon priests, Queen Sabrina with her commanding aura, took the potion from the priests and waved them off. "I will perform the awakening."
Little Drazon looked teary-eyed at his mother as she brought the green bubbling potion. Before the child, who was clearly looking for a way out, could even think of running, his mother forced the drink down his throat and lovingly patted his head, smiling and squinting at her boy. "There you go, my little prince."
The potion slimed down Drazon's throat, burning his insides; his heart beating in his ears, each beat louder than the last.
Ba dum.... ba dum… ba dum...
Excruciating pain followed as the potion reached his intestines. Drazon's inside lit up, bright light spilled out from the spaces between his scales, as if trying to escape. Roaring and screaming, the child slammed into the ground on his hands and knees. Flames shot behind the bright light, erupting from in between his scales. Debilitated by the pain, Drazon missed the look of surprise on his mother's face.
Following the aura of fire, water leaked from his body and collected on his skin, dousing the flame. The once flaming child, now looked more like a shaggy dog of a dragon. Queen Sabrina, believing the awakening to be through, went to put her hand on her son's shoulder to comfort him. Just before she touched him, the water began to crackle, and lightning escaped the cracks of his scales, encircling his body.
Drazon looked up at his mother with fear on his face, a blue light emanated from his eyes.
"Mom…. Help me..." he pleaded, straining to get each word out just before fainting.
AUTORENGEDANKEN 
MrE
MrE A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself. What a man can be, he must be