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Something was wrong. In his addled mind, Dargan could not grasp what it was. He seemed to float in darkness. He felt no pain. No pain! For the first time in memory. Then, slowly, he recalled the boys and the fire with a mounting horror. “I am dead” he thought. Yet, he did not feel dead. The young clan member dared to open his eyes. With a fearful start, he realized fire surrounded him. Flame and ash filled his vision. Still no pain. As his mind began to clear, Dargan found he was not afraid. He felt a stronger attraction to the flames than ever before. The fire seemed to ebb and flow as he found his breath. He could feel the penetrating heat, but it did not cause his skin or scars to rage.

Dargan was lying at the foot of the oak tree he had been lashed to. The tree was charred black. Angry, orange lines of heat seethed in the cracks in the bark. The air around the tree shimmered and waved. There was no sign of the ropes which bound him. The ropes! He thought again of the two clan members which had restrained him, harmed him. But the memory did not bring fear. Now, it nurtured a growing anger. Like the wild flames around him, Dargan could feel his emotions demanding to be set free. Trying to break from the unnatural confinement he had sought to impose on them during his wretched life.

Dargan rose to his hands and knees looking around. No pain. The fire had consumed the small clearing and was spreading in all directions. He noticed as he moved that something lay in front of his view. It was long and the color of mountain slate. It seemed to be hanging off his face. Focusing his eyes inward, he recognized it as a snout! He reached up to touch the foreign attribute, unsure if it was real or a façade of some kind. Instead of his familiar scarred hand he rubbed the snout with a large, scaled appendage. Dargan gave a surprised yelp which fled his mouth as a low roar.

Long, sharp talons ran from the ends of his fingers. The pitch-black hand was attached to a thick arm with heavy scales that transitioned from black to a slate gray as they reached the shoulder. His head moved on a long neck. Dargan realized he had no “hand.” He stood on four legs and his height was considerably taller than it had been as a human. Most of his long body was as gray as the nearby mountains with black appendages and a lighter ashen gray torso. At the end of his body a sinuous, black tail moved in wicked arcs at his command.

Dargan felt no pain.

Dargan had never heard any tales of dragons from his clan. By the time he was born, dragons were creatures of myth, spoken of in old tales in lands far from his. Dargan did not know what kind of creature he was. But he knew. He could feel his power. He could feel the flame calling him. He was dragon.

His anger swelling, Dargan turned to the charred oak and felled the tree with brutal strike from his foreleg. The freshly-born creature gave a roar and began to race through the forest. Dargan had never been able to move so fast! He was sure footed, instinctual, evading obstacles with just a fleeting thought. While his feet drummed against the ground, he envisioned his return to Engremm. His long body burned through the forest’s vastness as he drank in his new power.

Dargan came to a halt near a small lake deep in the forest. He waded into the shallows, hardly feeling the near-freezing mountain water. His scales seemed to burn with heat. He drank deeply from the water.

The cold, black lake offered a clear reflection and Dargan gazed at this new form. A long head narrowed to a snout with two large nostrils. He opened his mouth to see rows of long curved teeth and a black tongue. His eyes were a deep red-orange with black striations reaching outward from large, vertical pupils.

Dargan felt an itch behind his shoulder blades. He shrugged his back muscles and large black wings unfurled. A frightening grin split his reptilian features, large fangs reflecting in the lake. Dargan Barclan was no longer a timid creature to be pitied or abused. He was a predator, someone to be feared! And he would repay all that had been done to him.

***

The Bear clan rushed to the forest when flame and smoke rose above the horizon. They quickly set to work digging an earth barrier to prevent the fire from reaching Engremm. Two days the clan battled as the fire raged. A thunderstorm on the third finally ended the threat. The elders sent scouts into the forest to see if they could determine the source of the blaze. The scouts could find no cause, but they discovered the remains of a small clearing where the inferno seemed to spread outward from.

Everything within the clearing was razed beyond recognition. All that remained was a thick layer of ash. No living organism or its remains survived. The elders feared that some terrible magic was at work. The dead clearing seemed to harbor an evil essence, putting all who visited it ill at ease.

On his return from the clearing, Felicar stopped to see Elgon and Dargan. The elder was surprised to hear that Elgon had not seen his son since before the fire. Elgon seemed little concerned but Felicar felt a terrible weight begin to drag on his heart. This was fell news.

Felicar returned to the village and raised an alarm. He was worried about Dargan’s ability to take care of himself, especially, if he was injured somewhere in the woods. Search parties were organized and dispatched the same day.

Radagon fell into a search group with several villagers and Felicar. Several hours into the search their group doubled back and came to the dead clearing. Radagon recognized it immediately. He halted at the edge of the ashes. The adults each entered the clearing and worried at the grave feeling. Felicar turned to see Radagon staring dumbly into the clearing, the color drained from his face.

The elder approached the young clan member. “Radagon, what troubles you?”

“It happened here,” Radagon whispered.

“What happened?”

“It happened here,” Radagon said again. He did not look at Felicar but stared at the spot where the lone oak once stood. “We didn’t mean to hurt him,” the boy whimpered.

“Hurt who?” insisted Felicar, worry creasing his features.

“Dargan. We just meant to scare him.” Radagon shook his head. “Right here. We tied him up. Didn’t mean to hurt him.” Radagon’s eyes begin to well up.

“Radagon, please tell me.”

“We tied him up. Just wanted to scare him. We waved some torches in front of him,” choked Radagon. “Then he just burst into flames. I don’t know what happened. There wasn’t even time to stop it. His whole body went up.” Radagon sucked in a weak breath. “I can hear his cries. They haven’t let me sleep.”

“This is difficult news. You have caused the death of a fellow clan member. The council will have to discuss it.” Felicar looked hard at Radagon. “Let us return to the village.” The elder guided the young man away from the dead clearing.

That night the elders held a council before the gathered village. Radagon and Helican were compelled to bear witness to what they had done. Elgon also attended at the elders’ summons. He observed the testimony with little emotion. After the testimony, the council held a private assembly to determine judgement.

An hour later they returned.

Felicar stood before the clan. “We have heard Helican and Radagon. They are accused of the slaying of a fellow clan member, Dargan. He suffered terribly in life and received worse before his death. Our law calls for harsh judgement. The council is prepared to offer such. However, we also live by the law of retribution.” At this, Felicar turned toward Elgon seated in the front of the crowd. “Elgon, as Dargan’s father you have the right to demand retribution. We would hear you now.”

Elgon slowly stood, body moving as if in a dream. He turned towards Radagon and Helican as they knelt before the council. For a long moment he was silent. The boys would not meet his eyes. Some in the crowd shifted uncomfortably but Felicar raised a silent hand. Finally, Elgon spoke. “My son died with my wife. By fire born and fire lost. I’ll seek no retribution.” Dargan’s father turned and slowly headed home.

The clan was deathly silent. Felicar watched Elgon intently. The elder turned back to the crowd. He looked downward and addressed the accused. “Tonight, you have escaped death. The council will not overstep a father’s right. However, you have committed a grievous act. This night you are banished. For one year you will have no contact with the clan. You are not clan members. Seek no kinship or aid here. If you wish to return after the year, bring evidence that you have reclaimed your honor. Go your way.”

Radagon and Helican rose stiffly and walked briskly toward their homes not making eye contact with anyone. The crowd watched silently. Several family members of the boys turned toward one another for support. Slowly, the clan began to speak and disperse. It had been many years since such a council. As the fire died the elders disbanded as well.

In darkness, Helican and Radagon met at the northern edge of the village. They each carried their few possessions and some meager provisions. Neither said a word. They headed north into the forest to face their unspoken fears.

***

Dargan awoke on cold stone. Looking around, he noticed that he could see quite well, even in the gloom. He was surrounded by charcoal-colored limestone. Faint, indirect morning light seeped into the cave through an open entrance. He recalled finding the cave the night before as he sought shelter. He claimed the cave and settled into a deep sleep.

Dargan looked down and realized he was in human form again, and naked. Since awakening as a dragon, he had been unsure if such a change was possible. He was returned to human form but not the frail, gruesome one he used to call his own. All injuries and scarring were gone. Dargan was now able to stand at his full height. He was lean with a full head of black hair. His unblemished copper skin excited him, perhaps, even more than his dragon scales. He had never seen his body whole. Dargan’s deep, brown eyes radiated with amusement. He sat naked in the cave and smiled.

Before long, Dargan’s body began to demand sustenance. He wanted to find enough food to replenish himself and fuel the activities he had planned for the day. He got to his feet and left the cave, noting how the cold mountain air did not affect his exposed skin.

Dargan was determined to shapeshift and seek the air to find game. With a newly healthy body, and as a member of a shapeshifting clan, he felt sure that he could regain his dragon form. However, he was not sure exactly how to provoke the change process. He had awoken as a dragon the day before and returned to human form as he slept.

By necessity, Dargan was quiet and contemplative. There was no one he had known that wanted to hear him talk and his terribly injured body caused every action to take longer than it would for others more able-bodied. Everything he did was done at a reduced pace and it taught him patience. So, not knowing how to shapeshift, he stood still in the morning air, closed his eyes, and breathed.

For several minutes Dargan felt nothing. Then, deep inside he sensed power. In his mind, a flame sparked into life. The flame began to grow stronger and brighter. Dargan sought take control of it, reaching out for it. The flame flickered and danced, not wanting to surrender to his domination. As the flame swelled in his mind, Dargan grabbed it. He could feel the great power but held to the flame and it steadied, beginning to rise and fall with his breath. Then, Dargan burst into flames. A few moments later he stood as a dragon. The grasses surrounding him burned and smoked.

Dargan spread his wings and began to beat the air. Slowly, he rose from the ground. He picked up a little speed, climbing quickly above the treetops. Once in the open air, he began to pump his wings furiously, climbing in altitude with powerful strokes.

Dargan was elated. He had never been so free! Instinctively, he found an air thermal next to the mountain and entered the updraft. He used the current to rise to a staggering height while conserving much of his energy. In his prior life, he could not have dreamed of ever getting off the ground and, surely, not above the trees that surrounded the Bear clan in all directions. Now, he could survey the massive mountains, the forest, and the far away plains. The world was now open to him. He was above all!

After enjoying the incredible heights, Dargan drifted slowly downward. In a few minutes the dragon reached the treetops and angled his wings to propel himself forward. He flew just above the trees alternating between beating his wings and gliding, doing just enough to stay level. He searched for unsuspecting prey on the ground below. His new eyes scanned the forest, picking up every movement, no matter how insignificant.

Dargan saw a multitude of smaller animals before he came upon several red deer drinking from a stream in a clearing. The dragon wheeled and dove towards a juvenile male with its head down. The deer feared no predators from the sky and were not expecting such an attack. They did not react until Dargan unfurled his wings and raised his forelegs, the air suddenly screaming savagely around him while his shadow passed over the docile creatures. Every deer head turned as the dragon struck the young male, pinning it to the ground, then swiftly breaking its neck with a bite. The other deer fled in horror, bleating wildly, unable to make sense of this unknown monster.

Dargan watched the deer flee, feeling exultant, then turned to his meal. Bending to take a bite, he felt an itch in his throat. He cleared his throat several times before raising his head to try and cough. After a few attempts, a jet of orange flame erupted from his mouth searing the surrounding air. Dargan gave a hoarse laugh. He tried to expel the flames several times before discovering the muscles in his throat that would call forward the jet of fire. He practiced for a moment and then scorched the deer carcass before devouring it.

Dargan drank from the nearby stream and marveled at himself. He had such incredible power! He had flown. He had hunted and eaten a wild animal. However, he was not shocked at his behavior, rather, it seemed natural. He was a predator. He could take what he wanted, whenever he wanted. The world could be his!

For the next few days, Dargan wandered the forest exploring his new abilities. Much of his experience with these abilities was instinctual. He took on his new form and powers quickly. He felt born to be a dragon.

Changing back to human form took Dargan longer than anything else he had learned about his new self. After some frustration, he discovered the key was learning that the power, the flame in his mind, did not need to be snuffed out completely, just controlled. Dargan needed to reign in the flame to return to his human form. Dargan worked until he could shapeshift at will, quickly moving between human and dragon and back.

***

One final night, he returned to the cave. Tonight, he would rest. Tomorrow he would return to clan. One more visit to Engremm, home of his nightmares. The thought filled him with dread and pain but also, anger. He could feel the anger burning. He was ready. There were people to see and retribution to be claimed. He would have his vengeance, whether through some form of punishment or payment, or, if need be, by his own hand.

Dargan rose at dawn, unsettled. Tumultuous thoughts continued to plague him. A roiling anger demanded he seek vengeance but his whole life he had lived in fear of his father and the clan. The deep-rooted anxiety and insecurity dug at him. Dargan shook his head to quell his thoughts. Finding no solace, he burst into flame. In dragon form he found his fears greatly muted, he was powerful. He ran from the cave and threw himself into the air, quickly rising above the trees and making for Engremm.

As Dargan neared his family home he observed the devastation of the recent fire. Great swaths of trees were blackened and looked to be lost. Ahead, the dragon recognized a fateful area and dropped into the trees, landing in the destroyed clearing. He returned to his naked, human form and surveyed the location which had so changed his life. Here, he had been set upon, bound, and burned.

Oddly, though not even a week had passed, the agonizing day seemed like it was years ago already. So much had transpired. He was reborn as a powerful creature. However, the more excruciating memories dragged their way forward, knifing at Dargan’s psyche. The pain and the fear felt very real again. This is what Dargan was returning for. He would have his retribution. Grimacing, he headed swiftly in the direction of his home.

Dargan reached the edge of the forest and stopped. Across the clearing was the home he grew up in. The home his mother died in. The home he was burned in. The home he was beaten in. The home he was hated in. He loped across the clearing.

Dargan struck twice on the door and then entered. His father was not in the hearth room. Dargan glanced around the house. Everything remained as when he had last seen it, except a little dirtier and a little less tidy. No doubt, if Dargan had been gone longer, the house and farm would slowly fall into disrepair.

A muffled voice came from his father’s room. “Who’s there?”

Dargan did not answer.

Elgon came shuffling from the bedroom. His eyes red and bleary, his head hung down as if it was too heavy for the neck to support. Elgon had drunk his fill the night before. This was no surprise to Dargan.

“Who are ye’?” Elgon muttered, lifting his head up towards Dargan. He seemed thoroughly confused to find a strange, naked man in his house.

Dargan just stared at the old wreck, as if, seeing him for the first time.

“Get out of my home!” Elgon lurched sideways towards the fireplace, picking up a log which he unsteadily brandished in Dargan’s general direction.

Dargan smirked, “same old Elgon. Too drunk to know your own kin?”

His father tried to focus his bleary eyes. “Ye’ ain’t my kin! I don’t know ye’!”

Dargan’s eyes blazed with untempered emotion. He swept over to the man, gripping him by the shoulders and rasped, “it’s your son… it’s Dargan.”

Elgon’s eyes widened. “No. No… they said ye’ was dead.” He sputtered several times, trying to articulate his thoughts. “Ye’ don’t look… What evil brings…” Elgon trailed into silence. He stared into his son’s burning eyes, seeing for the first time a great fountain of hatred. And Elgon felt fear.

“You treated me like I was dead! Treated me as a dumb animal! My life has been your temper, your drinking, your loathing!” Dargan could feel the rage break upon him, unlike anything he had experienced before. An inferno surged through him, incinerating rational thought. There was no conscious decision made but there would be no holding back the anger this day. Nothing to stem the flow of years of carefully bound emotion that Dargan had hidden away in his fear, weakness, and loneliness.

Elgon shook his head, trying to speak as his body trembled.

“Stop it!” Dargan screamed, grabbing the terrified man by the neck. “You don’t get to excuse yourself now! You don’t get to pretend you weren’t a monster!” The young man’s voice grew hoarse.

Elgon cried, “no, I gave you everything…” but his response was choked off.

“No, you… No, … argghh...” Dargan’s bellowed response devolved into a guttural roar as a jet of flame leapt from his mouth, engulfing Elgon’s head.

Elgon yielded a terrible howl before the blaze silenced his voice and he fell limp in Dargan’s violent grip. The boy stood, hands around his father’s neck, while Elgon’s features disappeared. The son watched as the skin peeled from his father’s face. The muscle and fat began to rip open, viscous fluid trickling over Dargan’s hands and onto Elgon’s body. Dargan did not stop until Elgon’s eyes collapsed, the fluid in them boiled off.

His father’s visage destroyed, Dargan dropped the body and burst into flames. As dragon, he tore through the house destroying everything he touched and burning everything he saw. When the dragon could find nothing else to burn he turned towards the door and burst into cool morning air.

Outside Dargan returned to his human form. He faced the house he had grown up in. The entire structure was engulfed. Dargan watched the home burn, thinking no rational thoughts. His mind burned while his body shook slightly from the influx of adrenaline. In a shower of sparks and erupting flame, the structure collapsed. Dargan turned his wild eyes toward the village.

***

Members of the Bear clan had seen the smoke from Elgon’s homestead and sounded the alarm. A small group was already gathered at the settlement’s eastern edge preparing to investigate the smoke and battle another fire, if necessary. Then a naked man wandered over the last rise and into view. Several clan members left the group to close the distance with him.

“Hail!” the larger of the two cried out. “Do you need any assistance?”

Dargan kept moving forward eyes looking far beyond the two clan members. The two glanced at each other, they did not recognize the young man. As they continued forward, the larger man went to hail the strange visitor again, but his partner held out his hand halting their progress.

“Do you smell that?” he asked.

The larger man sniffed the air and then quickly shifted into his bear form. The other did the same. They could smell death in the air. This young man was cloaked in it. Underneath the death, he smelled familiar but there was something very different and very dangerous about him.

“Halt!” the large brown bear called out to Dargan.

Dargan was now 50 paces from the vanguard. He could see the two bears. He could smell their agitation and their fear. His rage was pulling at him, demanding he shift into dragon form and attack, but he was just able to master the response. He kept walking forward and called, “I demand retribution! It is my right and I will enter the village!” Dargan glanced beyond the bears and saw a larger assembled group of armed clan members making their way towards he and the bears.

Both bears dropped to all fours preparing to charge. “We don’t want to hurt you,” said the smaller bear, “halt, so the elders may question you!”

Dargan halted, a stone’s throw from the guards, smiling madly. “You cannot hurt me,” he snarled. “Retribution will be mine! And I will not wait much longer.” Dargan began to pace side-to-side, his body demanding some sort of action.

The group of armed clan members arrived next to the two bears. Many in the group could sense the foreboding atmosphere and smell of death coming from the east. A few changed into bears and the rest put their weapons at the ready.

Dargan viewed them suspiciously. “I demand retribution! You have no right to bar me from the village.”

One of the elders spoke, “who are you child?”

“Child?!” Dargan screeched. He could feel himself losing control. “I seek my lawful retribution. I will enter to claim what is mine. I claim the lives of Helican and Radagon!”

Murmurs broke through the crowd.

Another of the elders, Felicar, stepped forward. “There are no clan members by those names.” He stared intently at the young man. “Who are you? Who seeks retribution on those named?”

Dargan paced while looking at Felicar. “I am Dargan Barclan! I demand retribution!”

At this, the entire group broke into shouting.

A large black bear broke to the front and snarled, “Dargan Barclan is dead! When he lived he wore the marks of a terrible fire. You come bearing witchcraft in his name!”

Felicar stepped in front of the black bear. “Hold, everyone!” The elder shouted raising his arms. Turning to Dargan, he said, “that is a fell name. We understand Dargan to be dead. Who are you truly, and what has happened at Elgon’s home?”

“It might be hard to recognize me as the burned monstrosity you all despised! But, this is one of my new forms.” Dargan scanned the clan members looking even more wild than before. “My father has paid for his sins. Now, I seek the lives of the two who sought to murder me!”

Felicar eyed the pacing youth warily. “You may be who you say, your eyes do remind me of Dargan. If so, that fills me with unease. I fear something terrible has happened. I worry for you and for Elgon.”

“Elgon is dead!” Dargan shouted. As the village murmured anew, Dargan growled, “if you will not bring Helican and Radagon here I will seek them in the village.”

Felicar shook his head. “I do not think we can do that Dargan. “What did you mean ‘new forms’?”

“We are shapeshifters are we not?” Dargan grimaced.

“Are you saying you can change to a bear, Dargan, like you mother?”

“No, something much more powerful.” Dargan leered. “This is your last warning, bring me the boys or stand aside.”

At this the clan began to ease a little closer to the young man, circling slightly. The bears’ fur stood on end and the other warriors lifted their weapons. Felicar raised his hands again, turning towards the clan members, seeking to calm them down. He was about to speak when Dargan gave an anguished yell and burst into flames.

For a moment, the clan was stunned into silence. Then Dargan came flying out of the burning column, a demon of fury, all claws and flame. Dargan reached the two closest bears, eviscerating the first and rending the other’s arm with a massive, wrenching bite. Dargan then jumped into the following knot, a large group of bear warriors.

The non-shapeshifting clan members quickly fell back, lacking the strength to harm the dragon. Spears and arrows did no damage, glancing off Dargan’s scales. Though much stronger, the bears did no better. They could not wound the dragon. The great warriors fell one-by-one to savage injury.

Shortly, Dargan stood alone. The other bear warriors and clan members were hurrying towards the village to warn the rest of the clan and regroup. Around the dragon lay the dead and dying. Blood saturated the grass for ten paces in every direction. Dargan took flight towards the village.

Dargan flew over the fleeing clan members. They watched helplessly as he overtook them and entered the village. He first went to the home of Helican. Ripping off the roof, he found no one there. He set fire to the house and flew to Radagon’s family home. Once again, he was thwarted in his revenge. He burnt the house as well, leaving Radagon’s screaming mother behind.

Dargan stalked through the village, trying to catch the scent of his prior tormentors. He could not find any fresh scent. A bear warrior, one who had not been in the group that first encountered Dargan, burst from a nearby house. He pounded towards the dragon on all fours. Dargan caught the warrior as he leapt to attack and threw him to the ground. The dragon slashed the bear deeply across the chest and followed it with a torrent of flame. He left the bear whimpering and made his way to the bonfire grounds in the center of the village.

Dargan gave a mighty roar and then in a raspy, grating voice yelled, “Radagon… Helican.” The dragon waited for a minute and then walked to the nearest house and set it on fire. He returned to the bonfire grounds and yelled again, “Radagon… Helican.” The dragon repeated his torching and returned.

Waiting to destroy another house, Dargan heard a weak voice.

“Dargan. Hear me."

The dragon saw an old bear, standing roughly, with his arm around the shoulders of a black bear. The old bear had mostly grey fur matted with blood and gore. His free arm hung uselessly, a large gash through the shoulder was leaking blood. Behind the two bears was a gathered contingent of the clan. They had weapons or were waiting in bear form, ready to fight if they must. Dargan turned to fight but paused for a moment. The clan looked afraid.

“Felicar?” Dargan rasped, his rage somewhat abating.

“It is I. Though, for not much longer I fear.” The elder glanced at his injured body.

“I will have my retribution!” yelled Dargan. “Where are they?”

“We cannot give you what you want.” Felicar gave a shuddering cough. “Everything went bad before we could talk. Radagon and Helican were banished. We believed you to have died by their hands.”

“Banished?” Dargan seemed to ponder the information.

“I fear we have done you a great disservice, Dargan,” Felicar said, shaking his head.

Disbelief at the elder’s words boiled among the assembled clan members.

Felicar waited for the din to subside. “There is more I would tell you, Dargan.”

“What could you tell me now?” snorted Dargan.

“Not much. Perhaps, some advice or warning.” The old bear looked weary.

Dargan gazed darkly but said nothing.

Felicar continued, “I do not know what you are. Our clan has no tale of any being such as you. However, in the old tales the are many stories of magic, powers unheard of these days. I believe you may be a part of that world. There must be some purpose for you, something greater than you have been. Beings such as you do not appear without cause. You should find out what your purpose is.” Felicar paused. “Be careful who you tell about yourself. You may not be as powerful as you think.”

For a moment, Dargan continued to gaze at Felicar. Then he surveyed the village. Fires burned, the stench of death floated strongly in the air. Dargan was tired. “My retribution has been satisfied. Farewell.” He leapt into the air and began to climb.