His eyes flitted open and he sat up, eyes half-closed, mind starting up as he stared, dazed, at a spot on the ground. Rykirus bolted up as his brain fully booted up, 'Damn, I must've fallen asleep.' He scowled, then stretched, wings opening wide and back arching like a cat. He shook his wings free of the dust that clung stubbornly, and walked to the puddle of water in a corner of the cave, claws clicking rhythmically against the rock. Rykirus set his claw down once again only feel something sharp prod his scaled foot. He hissed in annoyance and lifted his paw, glancing down at the offending object.
His breath hitched as he caught sight of the familiar object, the ring. The ring his father had given to him, the one he dropped when he launched himself at his father's decaying body. At that thought, familiar feelings of grief and sadness hit him like brick, knocking the wind out of his lungs as he gasped for breath. Those emotions soon turned to anger though, raw fury, rage, hatred, at the ones who took them away from him.
Something stirred inside of him, something dark, dangerous. Instinct made him grab onto that tendril of power at his core, and that's when it happened. His back straightened as he felt power run through his veins, to his claws, wings, tail. All of it, under his control. His lips curled into a cruel smirk, and he raised a claw, shadows coalescing above it.
"So this is magic," Rykirus said, waving his claw, "I wonder..." he threw his claw towards the cave of the wall, willing it forward. The shadows raced towards the wall, expanding in size as it went, until it hit the wall. There was a deafening boom, and the cave started to collapse. His eyes widened, "So much power..." A sudden flash of pain in his skull made him stagger, clutching at it with a paw.
"Yes," a voice whispered, "but right now this power is unrefined, unmanageable. To reach your true potential, you must train and control it, don't let darkness control you. The NightBlade will depend on you and as it is now, your magic will only harm them..." with those words, the voice faded out, leaving Rykirus in a collapsing cave. Rykirus cursed, and called up the magic waiting to be used and pushed it into the claw, into the ring. A bright light encased the drake, and he disappeared from the destruction.
Rykirus felt lightheaded and nauseous, head spinning, and he stumbled as he felt his claws touch sold ground. He waited for that to vanish before raising his head, eyes widening at the sight. It was a forest, lush green vegetation spread around, a sparkling lake to the side of him, and trails that had wheel marks in them were laid out sparsely. 'Wheel marks... Used by humans...' Something clicked in Rykirus's head, and his eyes narrowed as his ears picked up a rumbling sound coming from his left, from the trail.
His lip curled into a vicious grin, crawling up a tree to hide. A caravan came into view, pulled by two horses and on it, some merchants, human merchants. 'Well looks like they brought lunch,' he thought, staring hungrily at the horses that were starting to whine and skitter around uncomfortably, no doubt picking up his scent. At this range, Rykirus could pick up what they were saying, and it made his blood boil and his claws ache to impale them and feel their blood run down his talons.
"Ha, you know that raid that happened against the so-called dragon king?" one asked, smirking at another.
"Course I know," he sneered, "I haven't been living under a rock. Heard the participants made killing, literally."
"Yeah, just a shame they didn't manage to bring back one o' those eggs, would've sold for the highest price on the black market I'll bet," another piped up.
"Hell yeah," the first said, "cause who wouldn't want a little demon doing all their dirty work."
At this point, Rykirus's vision turned red, and his mind went blank as a furious roar tore from his throat. He pounced from his hiding place onto one of the humans. The filthy, greedy little termites! The man let out a strangled yell and the others drew rusted swords from their damaged sheaths. But it was too late, Rykirus plunged his claw into the human's chest, blood coating his forearm, and ripped his heart from his chest. He grinned viciously, heart still pumping slowly in his claws, and squeezed, the heart exploding and bathing the other two in blood.
They looked on, horrified, fear etched into their features as he took a deep breath, warmth filling inside his chest and he exhaled. The familiar pitch-black flames from his visions poured out, wreathing the caravan and the two standing in front of it in flames. They let out ear-piercing shrieks and dropped to the ground, as their bodies slowly withered away. Rykirus smirked at them, as he slowly stepped forward, "I will destroy you all. I will gain power and eradicate the human race from the face of this planet, even if it means destroying the very earth you live on."
"Quite a promise whelp, or, I guess I should say, drake of NightBlade," someone boomed in an amusement-tinged voice. Rykirus whirled, his gut warming as he drew upon his fire once again, before he stopped, watching the figure in awe, the flames dying out in his chest. Because standing in front of him was a dragon, he was huge, almost the same size as his father. He had blood-red scales and cunning blue eyes, four horns jutting backwards from his skull and spikes running down the length of his neck and back, all the way to the tail.
"Hello, King Rykirus," he said, giving a bow, head lowering, and wings extending slightly, "I am Vyrix, leader of NightBlade in your absence and general of the NightBlade forces."