The Mateless Dragon King

Prisoner

In the Present

-

Unknown POV

The journey back to my manor was uneventful, the moonlight lighting the path before me. The powerful strides of my horse made quick work of the distance, and soon I saw the familiar silhouette of the large stone manor, built like a small castle into the rocks of the mountains that overlooked the southern desert.

It was a formidable structure, inherited from the man who had mated my mother. He believed me to be his son, and I did too, until I turned fourteen and my powers manifested. The truth was far more complicated. My mother had been in love with another before they met—a warlock, my true father.

The man who mated my mother began to suspect my true nature a little over a hundred years ago, so I had to dispose of him. It was unfortunate; he did raise me. Too bad he chose to put his nose in my business.

My mother, of course, would never know. After the death of her mate, I sent her to live in the citadel in the capital. There she could happily pray her day away to the Gods, attempting to atone for lying to her mate about my birthright. And I knew she was safe from learning too much about my plan. I didn’t want to have to dispose of my mother.

Upon reaching the manor’s gates, the guards nodded in silent acknowledgment, my presence a routine they had come to accept. The iron gates creaked open, allowing me to enter. I dismounted and handed the reins to one of the guards, who took the horse away to the stables.

Instead of entering my home and seeking the comfort of my bed for the short remainder of the night, I made my way to a hidden door, built into a large rock.

I was eager to visit my prize, the key to my plan that I have spent over two centuries devising. I never allowed anyone into this dungeon, since there were cells within the manor as well. No, this location remained hidden from prying eyes. Anyone who stepped out of line and entered this place out of curiosity, I killed mercilessly.

I unlocked the door and entered, closing the locking it behind me before snapping my fingers. A torch instantly lit up on the wall beside me. I never bothered to keep lights on when I wasn’t here. Why would I bother, when my prisoner could see in the dark just fine?

Grabbing the torch from its sconce, I began descending a winding staircase, carved into the stone itself, deeper under the mountain. As I descended, the air grew cold and the smell of musty, damp stone filled the air.

The light from my torch cast shadows that danced along the walls, as I made my way into the grand chamber of the dungeon. When I finally reached the bottom step, the surrounding stone opened up into a grand chamber: a massive underground cave.

In the center of the cave, my prisoner sat on the ground, leg irons keeping him in place. His once fine clothes tattered and his once-proud demeanor now reduced to a semblance of despair. He fought so hard when I first brought him here. But now, he behaves like a good little pet.

"Ah, good evening," I greeted, my voice smooth and composed. He looked up, eyes filled with hatred.

"What do you want?" he spat, his voice hoarse from never having anyone to speak to.

"I merely wanted to check on my most esteemed guest," I replied, a hint of mockery in my tone. He glared at me and I smirked.

I waved my hand with a flair, summoning some basic bread and meat along with a cup of water from my manor’s kitchens.

“Eat, I can’t have you expire just yet.”

“When then?” He asked, as I used my magic to bend his will to ensure he ate and drank.

“Soon,” I responded, truthfully not caring if he lived or died after I used him, “My last test subject was a success, but I need to try it again on a stronger test subject. I am just waiting to see if they have any side effects from the spell before I use it on you.”

Once he finished his meal, I waved my hand to send the plates back to the kitchen before making my way out of my dungeon and back to the manor.

The grand staircase led me to my chambers, where dark tapestries of ancient wars adorned the walls and the flickering light from the fireplace cast a glow across the room. I shed my black cloak, draping it over the back of a chair before pouring myself a glass of wine. I swirled the deep red liquid before taking a sip.

Tomorrow, I will visit my workshop to see if the spell I have been trying to perfect for over two hundred years will work for a second time. I knew I was getting close. The last few tests were successful, but the test subjects ended up with some undesirable side effects. I needed it to be perfect when I used it on myself.

Finishing the wine, I set the goblet down and made my way to bed. The night had been long, and though much remained to be done, rest was essential.

The flickering light from the fireplace cast shadows on the ceiling as I drifted off to sleep, a smile of anticipation playing on my lips.

—

As the sun rose, its rays filtered through the maroon curtains that adorned my chamber. I dressed in my usual attire, a fine red jacket and black leather riding pants befitting of my status as a nobleman's son.

With a final glance in the mirror, I made my way through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle. The guards and servants bowed their heads in respect as I passed by, carefully avoiding eye contact.

As I reached the stables, I saw my trusty horse, already saddled and ready for our journey. Every Tuesday, I made sure to visit my workshop, located in the desert lands to the south. With a quick mount, I urged my steed to exit the manor's gate and begin our ride.

The dry barren landscape stretched out before us as we journeyed deeper into the desert. When we finally arrived at my destination, I muttered an incantation to summon a small wooden hut with no door. Leaving my horse outside, I stepped inside and muttered another incantation, causing a door to appear.

Inside the musty hut, illuminated only by a flickering candle on a wooden table in the corner, were my test subjects—a rugged-looking Caelorian and a lion shifter—bound to chairs with ropes imbued with my magic to prevent their escape.

My footsteps echoed softly on the wooden floor as I approached the shifter, my powers already pulsing with excitement. I could sense his fear as I approached, his muscles then tensing as his lion instincts warned him of my power. But most people didn’t recognize witches and warlocks anymore.

"Good morning," I greeted him with a cold smile.

He didn't respond, but the defiant look in his eyes spoke volumes. I began chanting, my voice low and rhythmic. The air around us seemed to vibrate with energy, and the man’s eyes widened as he felt the magic taking hold, finally realizing what I am—a powerful warlock.

As I continued chanting, the shifter convulsed, his body writhing as the spell took effect, the vibrations in the air drawing the second consciousness out of his body, transferring it to the body of the second man.

I turned to the Caelorian, whose brow was furrowed in pain. His skin began to ripple and shift, the transformation taking hold. I waved my hand, releasing him from his bonds. He fell to the floor, his hands clawing at the ground as his bones began to crack and reform. The pain etched on his face was palpable, a silent scream escaping his lips.

I stopped my incantation and watched intently, noting every detail. The process was slow, almost agonizingly so, but it was working. His body continued to contort and grow, his features becoming more animalistic. Fur sprouted from his skin, and his limbs shortened and reformed.

Finally, after what seemed like a couple of hours, the transformation was complete. Where a man once stood, a massive lion now lay in his place, panting on the floor, filling up the entire room.

"Excellent," I murmured, examining the creature closely. "It worked perfectly. How do you feel?" I asked, though I knew he could not respond. Its eyes, however, spoke of confusion and fear, but also resignation towards its new vessel.

I placed a hand on its head, feeling the energy of the animal spirit within. Its energy was stable. I smiled, my spell successfully forced the lion spirit to accept its new vessel.

"Good," I said, more to myself than to the lion or the former shifter, who was now unconscious, still tied to the chair, from the force of having his second consciousness forcefully taken away.

"Very good." The lion began to shift back, the transformation quicker this time but obviously still painful. The Caelorian lay naked on the floor, battered and gasping for breath as his human form returned. I watched him, my eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"You have served your purpose well," I told him, my voice devoid of emotion, as I used my powers to bind him again with the ropes before he passed out from exhaustion.

I left the hut, the man’s ragged breathing fading into the background as I stepped outside into the harsh desert sun. My horse stood patiently where I had left her, and I mounted, steering her back towards the manor.

The journey back was swift, my mind consumed with thoughts of my next steps. The spell was nearly perfect, but I needed to keep an eye on my new lion shifter to make sure there were no side effects over the next couple of weeks. When I use this spell on myself, I need to ensure there are no unforeseen consequences.

As I rode, the landscape blurred around me, my focus inward. I could see the path ahead clearly now, each step leading me closer to ultimate power.