Once a boy, she did not pay attention to things like physical features before. But now Seraphina faces a very serious problem. This decides her own survival.
Her hair is quite long, reaching down to her waist—slightly longer. This makes moving inconvenient, because this is a forest with very dense vegetation. It is unavoidable that her hair gets caught in bushes or tree branches. She also tried burning her hair with her own fire, but it was useless. Everything on her body is immune to her own fire. Sharpened stones were also useless.
What kind of devilish hardness is this? Do dragon hairdressers have to use pliers instead of scissors? She sighed.
The last solution was to braid her hair into small braids, then braid those into a unified strip. It is easy to have the idea but hard to do...
"How do I tie this damn hair?"
In a rock cave, covered outside by woven vines to block the light coming from inside. After half a day, finally the braiding and tying of hair was done. With the current style covering her neck and back like a fishbone-shaped shield, this made her more confident moving around and being attacked suddenly from behind. Feeling a bit proud of herself, she decided to go out to scout and find some food.
Living in another world has its own benefits, breathing fresh air. No more fine dust, no more thick black smoke covering the sky from factories, and far from the rotten smell of the dirty and dangerous underground city—both the environment and the people there. That was how it had to be...
Three days have passed since she lit the biggest torch in the forest, maybe the biggest in the world. It—the tree—still burns, though not as bright as when she first saw it. But it's still the only light at night, a lighthouse helping her locate herself.
She walked along the riverbank where she woke up. It connects to a lake surrounding the tree in a circle. From that circle, two directions lead away: one upstream, the other downstream where she woke.
Feeling a bit guilty, the burning charcoal pieces—once branches and leaves of the tree—have turned to ashes. The destructive heat spread around, the lake began heating up, steaming heavily, and aquatic creatures started leaving the lake—some unlucky ones became her food.
Only recently, she wished to set foot on the ground below. Feeling safer and able to find temporary shelter, since she could do nothing on that terrible tree. But a few days later, she regretted it:
I take back my wish. Let me fall into a human fortress or anywhere without those hungry creatures here!
The first day was endless chases, no shelter or food, only barely hiding in a rock cave. The next day was a bit better when she found a way to control the ancient bloodline and rested to prepare some things. She encountered countless creatures of every shape. From moving trees, wolves with coats as black as the night sky... and just recently.
She found some footprints, footprints that could only be made by animals moving on two legs. More alert than ever, secretly following the tracks on the ground. From a distance with enhanced vision, the creatures—things that made her fear this forest, this damn world.
What could be scarier than a wild boar?
That's a boar with a somewhat human-like face, walking on two legs and there are many of them. They even use weapons! She was amazed.
Those bastards had fangs sticking out of their mouths, average height about 2.5 to 3 meters, muscular bodies, with grayish and rough skin. Wearing crude and ugly animal hides, holding wooden clubs about adult-sized. Among them was one holding a heavy rusty axe covered in dried blood and mud.
Can these bastards really make weapons? She was a little surprised but quickly dismissed the thought.
Maybe they found it or the previous owner had met them because the design clearly didn't fit their shape. More notably, these creatures seemed intelligent. They could communicate in a language made of growls.
Assessing the current situation, it seemed the giant ancient tree being engulfed in flames affected the creatures' activity around. When day and night were not much different, both filled with light from fire and ash. One thing she was sure of: the farther from the tree, the more terrible the creatures. Those in front of her were examples.
As an orphan child, she was very good at foraging. A place to sleep at night, escaping the chase of bastards. The streets were her home, but now it's completely different. What she was good at can't be applied in this damn place—absolutely not. But she didn't give up. After many experiences since she arrived here, what she learned was not skills for a single purpose but adaptation. The survivor is not the strongest but the one who can adapt to all situations—and a little luck.
People often understand well what they hate, and she was no exception. She hated humans, cunning, unpredictable, dangerous humans. But at least she could understand them, dealing with them was thousands of times easier than the beasts in this forest.
After witnessing those terrifying two-legged creatures, the highest priority was to leave secretly, carefully erasing her traces. When she felt far enough, she started speeding back to the secret base. Her speed was quite fast now, enough to run away if chased. Speaking of speed—she felt her body lighter than before. Her senses and physical abilities improved since falling to the ground. She also noticed something else inside her soul, different from before.
Surely nothing could disturb her now. She thought about herself again, old information appearing in her mind. This time she prepared mentally to avoid overload.
Name: Seraphina Sildralis
Race: Dragonkin [Stirring], Human
Epithet: The UnravelerFateshards: Fate of the Flame [converging]
Traits: Flamebound, Dominate [Unique]
There was a slight change in Dragonkin when the [Dormant] trait changed to [Stirring]. Something while she was unconscious changed it. Naturally, she was evolving—increasing power. But still felt incomplete, she had not fully controlled her power. For the past three days, she struggled with her ancient bloodline. When pressure radiated from herself, it triggered detection. While effective on lone creatures, creatures moving in packs were another story.
To find how to use and toggle her traits, she did a series of tests. Picking a random target, slowly approaching until the target reacted. The range of influence was 20-50m depending on species' awareness. This also helped her identify enemies in that radius. Any creature reacting gave her information, sensing the opponent: alertness, fear, caution...
Like a radar detector, although passive, it helped her avoid close contact with terrible things. Disabling it was simpler than she thought. She just needed to be "human" again, like her previous self—living, breathing, thinking like a normal human. She was a bit afraid her personality and thoughts changed as the "Dragonkin" part in her woke.
Continuing with later information, before knowing what Fateshards were and the function of The Fate of Flame, a new trait was added.
[converging]?
A feeling urging, like boiling inside her, attracted by something. Both tangible and intangible, a missing piece. Turning around, the sky was blazing red fire—a feeling she often had when finishing work—half the job done. Now she had to finish the rest.
Her mind shook a little, unwilling to believe her current self.
"What the hell is happening to me!?" She doubted she was losing her mind.
Trying to forget that feeling, she continued with what was left.
Chronicle: The Flame of Will [Broken], Skytear
Essence: The Silent Agony
[Skytear] Chronicle Description: [Guarding the great Lilacrest tree, ruling a wide sky region. The majestic Skywarden faced danger, but fate was cruel. A cunning dragon took its life, destroyed its nest and what it protected with crimson fire. The sky sympathized with tragic fates, mourning the sacrifice.]
Effect: Prevents all pain, sickness, curses, and near death. But cannot revive the dead.Activation condition: Only when touching true sadness, the first tear falls on the designated subject. No effect on the user.
Remaining uses: 1]
"..." Her mind was empty after reading the description of [Skytear].
Why does this damn thing describe me—a walking rag? Like a terror villain, ready to destroy everything in the way. And that hairy violent thing is described as a hero. Those are lies, baseless slanders!
She had lit a bit of fire on the tree, but she didn't mean to cause that story. The death of the giant bird beast—could say caused by her...
"WAIT—It was just self-defense!"
Brushing off resentment, her mood was now chaos, mixing doubt and dissatisfaction. A one-time use item with function beyond expectation, could save anyone—but not her...
Aven, cold and always cautious of others. Nothing had ever moved his emotions, even himself. Life was harsh, emotions only made him feel weak. No proof of existence, no one remembered, no one mourned. She despised:
Then why should I mourn others? So pointless.
Putting all thoughts aside, it was time to find a way out of this hell. The sun had risen, marking the start of day 4. She prepared some tools like a stone knife, a spear with stone tip, some edible forest fruits with dried animal meat—that was all she had.
She decided to go toward the sunrise, parallel to the river downstream. Hoping for a miracle to happen.