Night's Growth
The moon hung low, a pale eye in the cold, endless sky, casting its chill light over the rocky expanse of the land. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and scorched flesh—the remnants of battles fought in solitude. The air itself seemed to hum with the power that had begun to surge from the dragon.
Night had long since outgrown the vulnerability of his hatchling days. No longer the small creature Solace had once cradled, he was now a force of nature, his scales a dark blend of purple and black, gleaming under the moonlight as if absorbing its power. His wings, once fragile and trembling, now spanned wide and strong, capable of turning the sky into a battleground. His body rippled with raw strength, each movement deliberate and precise, a predator in every sense.
His hunger had grown insatiable. It was no longer about survival. It was about power—about strength. Night needed it, craved it, and he would stop at nothing to claim more.
His first few days alone had been spent learning the harsh rhythms of the wild. His instincts kicked in, sharpening with each hunt, each battle. Solace's absence had left a strange emptiness within him, but that void was quickly filled by his drive for dominance, his need to grow stronger. The bond he shared with Solace had always been undeniable, but now, as he moved further into the wilderness, it was becoming more distant, an echo in the back of his mind.
The smaller Rank 3 beasts had fallen first—slow, cumbersome creatures covered in spiny armor. Night tore through them with growing ferocity, his claws leaving deep gashes in their hides. His fire, once an unpredictable flame, now erupted with the precision and force of a tempest. Each victory brought him closer to something greater. The first beast he had slain was nothing more than a stepping stone, a reminder of his hunger. But now, he needed more.
Night's first encounter with a Rank 4 beast had been brutal. A massive creature, resembling a living fortress with thick, bony plates covering its body. Its tendrils whipped through the air with terrifying speed, each strike carrying the force of a falling mountain. The creature had roared, a guttural sound that rattled the very earth beneath Night's feet. But the dragon had roared back, his defiance a fire that burned in his chest.
The battle had been fierce. Night's claws scraped against the creature's armor, but the hide was too thick, too durable. The dragon had to adapt, unleashing bursts of fire that scorched the earth, but the beast's hide absorbed much of it. Still, the battle waged on, the two locked in a contest of wills. Night's tail lashed out, striking with the precision of a blade, sending the beast crashing to the ground. He didn't hesitate. With a fierce snap of his jaws, Night tore through the creature's throat, the life draining from it in a heartbeat.
But that was just the beginning.
The power that surged through him in the aftermath of that kill was intoxicating. Night's fire burned hotter, his senses sharper. His wings, once fragile, now beat the air with a deafening force, sending gusts of wind through the forest. He had tasted power, and it had only whetted his appetite.
As he ventured deeper into the wild, Night encountered an even more formidable foe—a Rank 5 beast, a gargantuan creature whose very presence made the ground tremble beneath its weight. The beast was massive, its body covered in jagged spines, its claws like crushing boulders. Night wasted no time. He launched himself into the air, his wings slicing through the wind as he dove toward the beast with all the speed he could muster.
The battle was fierce. The creature's massive claws struck at Night, each blow capable of breaking bone, but the dragon was faster, more agile. His claws raked across the beast's hide, tearing through its tough exterior. The creature retaliated, swinging its massive limbs with unrelenting force, but Night dodged, his movements fluid and precise. He struck again, his fire erupting from his throat in a blinding flash, but the creature's armor absorbed much of it. Frustration built within Night, but it only spurred him on, pushing him to new heights.
The moment of triumph came when Night, with a roar of defiance, dove for the beast's vulnerable underbelly. His claws sank deep into the flesh, and his tail lashed out, knocking the beast off balance. As the creature stumbled, Night unleashed a torrent of flame, engulfing the beast in a fiery inferno. The creature writhed in agony, its screeching roar echoing across the land. But Night held firm, the power within him consuming the beast until only ashes remained.
Night stood victorious, his body heaving with the effort of the battle. His scales were singed, his wings battered, but he had triumphed. With each battle, his power grew, his fire burned hotter, and his strength seemed limitless. The wild was no longer a place of uncertainty. It had become his domain, his kingdom to conquer.
But even as Night claimed victory after victory, Solace could feel the growing distance between them. The bond they had shared, once so strong, was now strained, fraying at the edges as Night's power blossomed. Solace could still feel the pulse of the dragon's presence, faint but constant, a reminder of what they once had. But that bond was becoming something else—something wild and untamable.
Night's growth was inevitable. Each battle, each conquest, brought him closer to something greater than he had ever imagined. But at what cost? As the dragon grew stronger, Solace couldn't help but wonder if the dragon would ever return, or if he was destined to become something beyond the reach of the man who had once called him his own.
For now, Night continued his relentless pursuit of strength, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. And Solace, though far from him, could still feel the weight of that power—a power that had begun to outgrow him.