The Dragon Warriors

The sudden attack on the kingdom of Gildonen had left the country shocked. The castle has been ruined, half the city razed and the king left half-dead and in a coma with his eldest son forced to assume leadership in what only could be called the kingdoms darkest hour, and perhaps worst of all was that the kings daughter, the young princess of Gildonen had been kidnapped. Taken away by the powerful black dragon responsible for the attack, Xanatos. The country had cried out for help, and their pleas had been answered by none other than Heléwan Hrafner, one of the worlds most renowned heroes. Heir to the legendary Hroél Hrafner, he was among the few last of the legendary bloodline among the humans. The bloodline which granted him powers far above that of common men, the blood of the ancient heroes and kings of men. Heléwan had proved his valour in combat many times, but never before had he ever matched his skills with the ferocity and power of a dragon. Still he was confident in his powers, in the skills and magic taught to him by his family and father, confident in his weapons of war inherited from his forefathers, and confident in his courage and strength of will. His most poweful weapon in his own opinion, the strength of heart to face whatever danger without pause or fear.

Nearly two weeks had passed since the attack before Heléwan had managed to track down the lair of Xanatos. Two weeks of constant travelling, two weeks of following every lead he could find. Which was rather strange, as one would imagine that a dragon like Xanatos would have some difficulty hiding, but one would do good not to underestimate dragons. Especially the black ones, the most powerful and reclusive dragons of all. Dragons had been hunted for hundreds of years for various reasons, their hoards and their scales being one reason, and the dragon blood being the second. Each species of dragons, be it red, green or blue, had a unique blood which each had their own special property. Only the blood of the black dragons remained a mystery and none knew what powers it held. Will I be the first to figure it out? Heléwan thought to himself as he beheld the large cave opening before him. The lair of Xanatos was far out in the wilderness, outside any known maps which he knew off, by an imposing though not too overly large mountainside. He stood alone, as his horse had died of exhaustion during his wild race after the dragon, and because no other warriors had dared to accompany him on his quest. The fate of the princess moved the hearts of all who heard it, but none had the courage to come to her aid. They already believed her to be lost.

Heléwan had every intention of proving them wrong. Where everyone else had failed he would succeed; he would save the princess and slay the unslayable black dragon, and prove himself the greatest hero the world had ever seen. He marched towards the enormous cave entrance, his sword Heléskling with its blood-red blade held in his hand, and his shield in his other. A spear was strapped to his back, its spearhead the same red colour as his sword. He barely slowed down as he finally entered the pitch black cave. With a mere thought his sword suddenly began to glow, as if it had just been withdrawn from the furnace of a blacksmith, and the dark interior of the cave began to lighten up around him.

"Xanatos!" Heléwan roared. "Show yourself, you cowardly worm!" His voice was firm and confident, making it clear that he held no fear within him. "Princess." He then called out, a bit more softly yet no less quieter. "If you can hear me, do not fret. It will all be over soon. I give you the word on my forefathers that you will be free before this day is over."

Somewhere in the dark depths of the cave he could hear a growl slowly growing louder. Xanatos knew he was here, and the dragon didn't seem all too overjoyed by the unexpeted visitor.

Heléwan prepered for combat as he finally saw a pair of crimson eye glow in the dark, admist the glitter of gold of the dragon hoard. The eyes slowly moved closer as Xanatos advanced slowly towards his prey.

Rosaline had never thought herself as more than a simple princess, which in itself is supposed to be an impressive thing, but only if you are supposed to inherit, and she had always been third in line. Her mother, her brother, and then herself. That she was plain of appearance didn't help either, as the shallow world of man tended to send shining knights primarily for the heart of beauties and mighty women. Sure, Gildonen was a vast and powerful kingdom, but it meant nothing if she wasn't someone of true influence. She weren't unhappy with how she lived, she weren't ungrateful, but she never truly felt like something special. Then the dragon came, and her whole world changed. Her innocent mind had at times tested the idea of seating herself on the throne, but she dismissed it the instant her mind reminded her that it would require the death of her whole family. And when the day came and they almost did die, she was scared out of her mind, and in a blind attempt to stop the dragon with nothing more than the sword of a fallen knight, she was snatched. Seemingly content with the havoc it had wrought, the dragon flew of with her in palm, screaming, kicking and fighting all the way. Not that long after, much thanks to the impossible speed of the dragon, Rosaline was dropped in a surprisingly warm cave in a mountain, and left there.

Days became weeks, but the dragon didn't seem to lose interest in her. It didn't seem overly interested either, only enough to give her food and enough to keep her from trying to sneak away. She was kept at the corner of the cave, where she often found herself waiting for it to fall asleep. Didn't dragons ever sleep? After two weeks, Rosaline was confident that rescue would not come, and had settled quite well with the idea of being simply a trophy to this hoarder. So she sat quietly, simply waiting, like a good little trophy, in the middle of all the treasure and artifacts that this giant had gathered across the centuries. At least she weren't completely bored out of her mind, occasionally finding something fancy to wear.

Then came the call of the hero, and Rosaline's heart raced. She didn't dare run into his arms, with the dragon heading in the same direction, but she followed as closely as she could. This woman of short, pink hair and a plain figure was rather invisible in the shadows, shorter than the average adult and rather petite in all physical aspects.

Xanatos nearly filled out the vast expanse of the cave as he stretched out his wings and sent a plume of fire out in the air, more to intimidate Heléwan than to cause any sort of damage. It was a majestic and enormous creature, black scales covering the large and powerful body and sharp, poiny horns protruding from its head. Heléwan barely payed any attention to the display of power as his sharp eyes instead noticed the tiny figure trying to hide from the sight of the dragon. "Rosaline." He called out. He could only assume it to be her. The young princess was known to be a budding beauty, a flower that had yet to completely open up its petals, and from what he could see she certainly seemed to fit the description. Short, pink hair that barely reached her shoulders, a soft and adoring face with green eyes and a simple, yet worn, dress that clad her petite body. "Do not be afraid." His voice carried itself over the roar of the flame, almost as if a mystical wind carried it. "I am Heléwan Hrafner. Take cover and be careful. Things are about to get ugly here, but you will be safe now. I promise you." No sooner had he finished talking until Xanatos returned his full attention to the interlooper. The gaze of his crimson eyes fell upon Heléwan with such a force that he could almost feel the weight of the dragons powerful will upon him. His heart began to race in his chest, but not due to fear. Only excitement filled his chest, a stirring emotion of great things to come. A smile began to play on his face as the full realization of what was about to happen struck him. He was to fight a dragon, a black dragon. And he was going to win.

Both the dragon and the man broke into a charge at the same time.

The entire cave shook as the vast, muscular mass of Xanatos launched itself forward at Heléwan, teeth and clawed bared and ready to slice him to pieces. Heléwan himself simply ran at the beast at a speed no mere mortal ever could hope to achieve. But just as Xanatos came into range to attack, something suddenly happened. Hrafnkallja! From seemingtly nowhere, from the nooks and corners of the cave, from behind the human warriors cape and from every shadow, suddenly there appeared a swarm of ravens. The mighty swipe of Xanatos claw swept through the cloud of birds as if they had been mist, and of Heléwan there wasn't a single trace. The dragon snorted and restlessly moved about as the cawing birds circled the dragon. From behind the dragons head Heléwan then suddenly sprang forward from the group of the birds and slashed with his sword at the back of the dragon. The shizzling blade cut through the scales with relative ease, the stench of burnt flesh filling Heléwans nose. Xanatos roared in pain and immediately threw its body around and tried to turn around, but with a mighty leap he left the back of the dragon just as Xanatos slammed its body to the cave well. The smile had yet to leave Heléwans face. The first blood had been his.

The fight that followed was one that Heléwan only could have dreamed of. The fact that Rosaline herself was hiding somewhere and watching his every move was exhilarating, the knowledge that his heroic deed was witnessed by someone who would speak of it, rather than to be something he alone would know the truth of. That is not to say that the battle was quite as easy as he had at first allowed himself to think. The deep wound on his back seemed to have invigorated Xanatos just as much as it had Heléwan, and the black dragon had attacked with a ferocity and strength that even Heléwan was hardly pressed to match. His shield and armour, both reinforced with the dragon leather his forefathers had slain, had offered some measure of protection from the fire breath but the heat and the fire still left him burnt and panting. The vast claws that swiped at him would have turned him to a pulp if not for his incredible speed and reflexes. His knowledge of magic was stretched to its limit to counter the power of destructions conjured by Xanatos, and more than once Heléwan was nearly convinced that he was dead. But he pressed on, the thoughts of Rosaline, her family and kingdom, and his own reputation as a hero kept him going.

Finally, after a titanic struggle the two combatants stood seperated from one another. Heléwan breathed heavily from exhaustions and felt the stings of varios wounds on his body. Even Xanatos seemed to have tired slightly from the fight, as the scales on his chest were stretched apart with his heavy breaths. Then the dragon threw back his head and drew even more air into its lungs, as it once more prepered to unleash its devestating firebreath. Perhaps its greatest Heléwan thought as it drew more and more air to its lungs. Despite the danger Heléwan couldn't help but smile again. With this last attempt to incinerate him, Xanatos had signed his death warrant.

Heléwan dropped his sword and with lightning speed he drew forth his spear, Hroégwein. The spearhead erupted into flames and glew redhot just as with the sword, and with a single thought he activated the magic power slumbering in the weapon. He readied his threw, and let loose. As if shot from a ballista the spear flew towards Xanatos and struck him right in his throat. With eerie accuracy he had not only struck the weak spot as the scales were stretched apart, but he had also hit the dragon right in his artery, the major blood vessel which sent the precious dragon blood to the head of the creature. The spear buried itself in the flesh of the dragon as Xanatos recoiled from the force of the attack, sputtering as the vast breath it had held in escaped his lungs. For a moment the giant eyes of Xanatos buried themselves into Heléwan, almost as if he wondered what was next to come. Heléwan was happy to answer that request.

With a simple gesture of his hand the spear suddenly dislodged itself from Xanatos throat and flew back to Heléwan. With the wound exposed, there was a vast torrent of dragon blood that now shot out into the air, as the powerful beats of the dragon heart pumped out more and more of its lifeblood. Xanatos body began to waver and quiver, as if it tried to summon up whatever strength left in its body to strike back at the one who had killed him. But his strength waned as his blood left his body, until he finally collapsed, too tired to move or fight back. Heléwan merely caught the spear and returned it to his back as he looked over his fallen opponent. Heléwans heart still thundered in his chest and he still breathed heavily. He had done it. He had killed a black dragon! He began to look around him, upon the vast treasures and artefacts around him. All his! The dragon, the spoils his. He had finally repeated the heroic act of his forefathers, killing a dragon singlehandedly!

"Rosaline!" Heléwan finally called out as he sheathed his weapons. As exciting as it was, there was still the princess and her safety to see to. "It's over Rosaline, you can come out now!" He began to wander and look for her where he thought he had seen her earlier, all while he kept a close eye on the corpse of Xanatos. Dead as he appeared to be, he felt it best to not take any chances incase the dragon merely waited for him to lower his guard.

She was spellbound to the fight, not letting it go for even an instant with her eyes. The way the champion moved, the way he danced around the dragon, and the way the dragon fought back. It was all so very exciting, that she found herself moving closer, though doing so through the shadows on the side. When it became obvious that the dragon was going to die, she wanted to cheer, and was genuinely about to do so out of sheer relief that she would be free. Then, she went mute. The flood of blood had rained over her and even entered her as she had inhaled in great panic while attempting to scream. Drenched in the stuff, she quivered to a corner of the cave and simply stared at the dead body of the dragon. Her heart pounded wildly, and her whole body shook from the stress that the shock had put her in. So much red, such a thick substance, and she was barely able to breath, the blood covering her outside and in. She just had to move closer, didn't she? Just had to stand almost below the dragon when the rain came.

Seconds past, though it felt like minutes, before she stammered a yelp for help and waved in the direction of her champion. "Over here!" she spoke weakly, despite every effort to shout it. She stood up slowly, shaking her arms and legs, disgusted by the sheer quantity. Still, despite it all, she wanted to thank her champion from the bottom of her heart, and that was what drove her past her shock and dread. For two weeks, she has asked herself the question if she would ever get to see another human being, and now he stood before her not only as another human being, but as her savior. Oh, the gratitude that washed over.

Heléwan heard her voice and quickly began to move in her direction. Her voice had been so weak that he began to worry that she was injured or in distress in some way, which very well could be true. She had spent two weeks as the prisoner of a dragon, and Gods alone knows how she had managed to survive such an ordeal. Princess or not, he had to admit that she was quite tough to have managed at all. "Rosaline?" He called out as he searched for her. "Are you alright? Talk to me..." He trailed off as she came stumbling towards him. His eyes widened as he beheld her, as she was more or less drenched in what he could only assume to be dragon blood, which had drenched quite a good part of the cave when he first had torn open the throat of Xanatos. Her short pink hair clung to her head and her pink dress was ruined, and while it could have been a rather comical sight there was something that swiftly pushed away all thoughts of laughing from Heléwans mind. The simple fact was that she had come into contact with one of the most magical substances in the world, and one whose power no one even knew about. To say the least, it was not a laughing manner. "Rosaline..." He said softly as he held out his hands to steady her. She seemed to be in a daze, and considering that she just had been drenched in the lifeblood of another creature he could hardly blame her for being a little shocked. "Come, let's go outside. There was a river not too far from the cave, you can wash yourself there." He didn't say anything about the blood and the implications of being in contact with it. Dragon blood and their unique properties weren't exactly common knowledge, though neither a well kept secret either, but regardless if she was aware of it or not he saw little reason to try and frighten her even further. Best to keep her calm and try to wash it out and give the poor thing a chance to recover.

"Poor thing" wasn't perhaps exactly what'd you say to the face of a princess, no matter how well the words did fit the young girl at the moment. She was indeed a petite young girl and Heléwan almost felt angry that anyone, be it dragon or man, would wish to hurt her. He stood beside her with his arms around her shoulder as he helped her keep her balance, and a sense of protectiveness filled his heart at the sight of her. "Can you walk?" He asked her softly. She was quite smaller than him and he figured he could have easily swept her up and carried her outside if he so wished. He smiled at the mental image of it and peered down at her.

She watched him with big, round eyes with a touch of distress in them. Then as they walked, she looked over to the dead dragon, simply watching it as they were heading out from the cave. She let out a small laughter. "You killed it." She confirmed mostly to herself, nervosity plain in her voice. She bit her lip, felt further taste of the dragon's blood and ceased doing so immediately, now only walking plainly though slowly towards the exit of the cave. It felt so disgusting, all the blood over her, and getting to a river would be a miraculous thing. She felt her knees quiver and she smiled. "I believe I can at least walk, yes." He had just defeated a dragon. She could at least do this much.

"Yes, I did." He replied, also mostly for himself. It felt a little unreal to look upon the corpse of the mighty creature, though he still knew full well enough the implications of his deed. As far as he knew none had ever killed a black dragon all alone which in itself was a reward enough for him. But not only would he gain fame and renown but also vast riches, both thanks to the hoard of the beast as well as the remains which could be taken: Dragon leather, dragon bones, dragon teeth and perhaps, the dragon blood. If it would even be worth anything. Dragon blood often had to be collected and stored in a proper manner for it to not lose its potency, and Heléwan had no such knowledge on how it was to be done. The moment he began to ponder about the blood he was once more reminded Roseline and her situation, and he snapped his gaze away from the creature and back to her. Her green, innocent eyes studied him closely and he felt a little warm inside. She was pretty, but would probably look a little better once she'd have a chance to clean herself. "Alright." He nodded at her insistance that she would be fine, though he could still notice her legs wobble beneath her, and he matched his pace with hers so that she wouldn't feel the need to rush.

The exited the cave, and light of the bright midday sun washed over the couple. Heléwans eyes had adapted themselves slightly to the dim light of the cave so he had to squint his eyes for a while while they adapted again to the outdoors. A gentle breeze also welcomed them as his cloak fluttered beneath him and the grass and the branches on the nearby trees waved back and forth lazily. The world appeared completely unchanged by the demise of the great beast, and Heléwan almost felt a little glad for that. Somewhere in the distance one could hear the sound of running water. "It'll be a long way back to Gildonen, and we'll have to walk it I'm afraid." A slight smile touched his lips. "I find no fault in the horses of your kingdom, as it carried me the majority of the distance before it gave up. Though I am certain a few weeks of travel will seem like nothing compared to what you have had to endure already." He peered down at the girl by his side again, studying her closely. Though still dazed, he couldn't see any other signs of discomfort or such. He could probably rule out that the blood was poisonous, though it could take a long while for it to take affect. He kept his arm around her shoulder and gently moved her forward towards the river ahead. "How are you feeling by the way?" Other than his concern for the dragon blood, there was of course also the fact that she had spent nearly two weeks as the prisoner of a monster. "I can understand that it's been tough for you, not knowing whether or not you'd ever be free again."

She smiled genuinely at him and moved as quickly as she could forward. "I'm alright. I was fed, even though it was not good food. Remains mostly." She was feeling a bit sick, but she didn't mention that for the obvious reason that she was covered in blood. Who wouldn't get sick from that, even though the sickness was a strange, warm churning inside of her. "Why did you rescue me? My family will reward you of course, but why did you rescue me? For wealth? Fame? For me?" The last one seemed improbable, hence the question. She was nothing special, never had been, and she was not next for the throne. Marrying her would bring no prestige for the man, wouldn't increase his power in any sense.

When they arrived by the river, she raced into it with dress and all, diving under the surface greedily at the chance to wash everything away. Almost like a child, she splashed around in the water, making sure that the water would clean ever crevasse, which required her assistance at times, as the blood had dried at places. And the beautiful white dress of course didn't become perfectly clean, something she would have to endure. "Why don't you join me?" She then asked abruptly, more boldly than she had asked any question in her whole life. Startled by her own words, she blinked and let out a nervous giggle. "I mean, after the ride here, and the battle. You must be tired and sweaty all over."

"Wealth? I am already the richest man in the world. What is a dragon hoard compared to the freedom to go wherever I want? Do whatever I want? To feel the wind in my face, to see new places and experience things none other ever has?" He smiled as he spoke, looking away from her and studied the scenery around them. It was a beautiful place, one he never would have suspected being the land of a dragon. True, there trees uprooted and patches of land where the ground seemed to have been dug up, some places that seemed to have once suffered a severe fire though had recovered slightly, but overall it was a beautiful place. One of many he had seen during his travels. "And I did come for you." He assured her and patted her on her shoulder as he looked back at her. "I couldn't merely sit idly by knowing that I could do something to help. I won't lie..." He smiled sheepishly and looked away from her for a moment and scratched his cheek. "Slaying a dragon is something any hero would dream of, for plenty of reasons. Fame especially, perhaps. But I can assure you, I wouldn't have come here if not for you." It was a little half lie perhaps, but one he figured wouldn't do any harm. Heléwan held no secret motives to his actions. He cared for Rosalines safety of course, and while he would no doubt earn great fame for his deed he still desired nothing less than to continue his adventurers, free as a bird. Marrying a princess likewise seemed like a rather exciting thought, but tying himself down to a single kingdom while there was still so much to do... No, that was not something Heléwan desired.

As they reached the river she suddenly darted away from her and threw herself into the water, all the past traces of dizziness gone from her. He was a little startled at first by the sudden burst of activity from her, especially considering how her behaviour seemed rather odd for a princess, but he quickly relaxed as he watched her antics, splashing about in the water like a young child. Certainly no poisoned or ill individual would act like this? Perhaps he didn't have to worry about the dragon blood, especially as she was already washing most of it away. "Why certainly princess!" He laughed a little at her request, as well as her embarassed reaction to herself. "It would be my honour to join you upon your request." He winked at her to let her know that he was only teasing her as he put down his weapons and backpack beside him, and began to remove some of this clothing. Rosaline has dived in with her dress and all, but Heléwan settled for removing some of his clothing before diving in. He didn't make much of a show of it, though he knew that the young girl no doubt would be studying him closely. Heléwan was no stranger to the company of women, but making any advances on the princess could of course have some rather severe consequences depending on how her family would react to it. Some simple fun would of course be just that as far as he was concerned, though royalty usually had a different opinions concerning these things.

Finally Heléwan stood barefoot in only his linen cloth pants, the rest of his body bared. His broad, muscular chest was covered in dozens of scars and some of the fresh wounds were still visible with a few traces of blood. He kept his long hair in the ponytail as he walked closer to the water and stepped in, groaning in satisfaction at the feeling of the warm, summer water encasing him. He remained just by the edge of the water, studying Rosaline as she washed herself as best as she could, a warm smile on his lips and his eyes dancing over her. She was very pretty indeed.

She giggled as he approached, not sure why. She had never really been interested in men, but there was something that made her heart race any time she looked at him. It could be that she just survived a dreadful experience and was appreciate of life, or something about him, but whatever it was, it wasn't like her at all. She blushed and smiled at the same time, wildly conflicted inside her head. "I promise that I will make you famous. It is possible from my position to do at least that." She smiled broadly, but soon stopped the smile. Impulsively, she began to breathe really fast, placing her hands over her chests. She found herself in desperate need for air, and she started stumbling out of the water, distress genuine in her eyes. Hyperventilating, she only managed some words at the time. "So warm." Heat shot through her body, as if something was cooking inside of her, and she reacted by hyperventilating. "Hero!" She managed before she fell to her knees, not having gotten out of the water yet. Standing on her knees, her hands against her chest, her eyes filled with tears from sheer fright. "Help me!" She pleaded. Every system in her body felt as if it was activating, and she was hungry, afraid, angry, happy, in pain, lustful, her body and mind in complete chaos all at the same time.

His smile broadened as he listened to her words and his eyes were mirthful as he studied her, the blush on her cheeks and the shy smile on her face. She seemed quite smitten with him, something Heléwan was neither unfamiliar with nor surprised at. Women had swooned upon being rescued from far less dangerous things, and a young princess was just as capable of dreams and lustful fantasies as any other girl. She was almost unusually flushed though, the blush on her cheeks growing more pronounced and... Heléwans eyes widened the exact same moment Rosalines smile faded away. "Rosaline?" He asked as he began to wade over to her. She had no reply for him but she still spoke volumes of her condition as she began to breath rapidly and trash about as she tried to move out of the water. "Rosaline!" He cried out as she nearly fell under the water, weak pleas of help escaping her lips. Within moments he was beside her and quickly took the girl in his arms as he began to wade back to the shore. She was warm, almost unnaturally so, her body flushed and her chest rising and falling with every breath she took. Why had he taken her down to the water?! Why had he been so careless? He should have done something the moment he saw her rather than to relax! "Calm down Rose', I got you. I'm here for you." He held her close and genuinely tried to mean the words he said, but really, what could he do? He knew only a little healing magic, enough to close a wound and cleanse a posion, but she had come into contact with dragon blood. Black dragon blood even, which none knew anything about. What could he do to help her?

He'd do whatever he could do to help her. He had come here with that thought alone in his mind and he hadn't given up even though everyone had said her situation was hopeless. What kind of man would he be if he gave up on her now, just because her situation seemed equally hopeless? Heléwan strode out of the waters and layed down the girl on the grass. The stained white dress, wet and nearly transparant, clung to her body and he could easily see the soft rise of her petite breasts though the cloth, but he ignored the sight of her near-nudity. "Listen to me Rose', I... I will do everything I can to help. Try to calm down, try to..." He trailed off, since he didn't really know what else he could say. Instead of trying to think of a lie he could say to comfort her he instead places his hands on her stomache, closed his eyes and began to weave the magic within him. He could feel her body tremble beneath his touch, her breaths just as rapid as before. "Stay with me Rose'." He whispered. He truly didn't know what was wrong with her but he suspected that the dragon blood, for one reason or another, acted as a form of poison. As such this was the spell he cast on her, a spell to cleanse her of poison and toxins, and he could only pray that it would help. Don't let her story end here. He pushed the magic down through his hands and into her. She has so much to live for. It can't end like this. Not like this!

Her body clenched, and in a cry of pain Rosaline curled her body together like a ball, breathing as rapidly as before. The painful groaning was then mixed with uncontrollable giggles, as her whole body tingled. Giggles and cries, giggles and cries, and tears flowing from her eyes. She turned and quickly grabbed his hand, holding it tighter than a girl of her size possibly could, and she looked into his eyes. Her suddenly sharp yellow eyes staring straight into his, pleading for aid in this hopeless situation. "Hero." She cried weakly as a cracking sound forced her eyes shut and she groaned in pain again. The pain suggested that things were moving inside of her body, and being curled into a ball didn't help things any more. She pushed the hero away, and rolled around, standing on all four and staring into the ground beneath her. Did the ground look different? She cried in pain again, terrible, terrible pain as she watched her hands on the ground before her eyes grow darker in color, and out of her skin did scale force its way out and settled almost as a glove. Her nails fell loose as if they had never been attached to anything and her fingers grew into claws. The scales bursted out along her arm, all the way to the elbow where it stopped. The color shifted from the darkest brown just before her claws to bright red at the end, and that was only the beginning.

She was growing, she felt it. Increasing in size, and that's where the cracking sounds came from. Her insides were moving, settling differently and growing. She whimpered another cry as her body shifted in size, probably to a size compatible with the rest of the changes that was happening to her. She felt her hair climb down her neck and back, increasing, increasing and increasing some more in length, so long that the back wasn't sufficient to hold it, and as it grew, it reached down around her, almost like a blanket. The tickling sensation of her hair increasing the way it did almost distracted her for a moment from the extreme pain that she was suffering. She yelped again as her feet went numb, her mind protecting her best it could from a change that felt similar to the one to her hands. She felt the bones move, grow and harden, and she became more and more certain that it wasn't that she was protected from the pain so much as getting used to it. There was so much going on with her, that her mind simply couldn't keep up with every new painful sensation.

Then the worst sensation yet came, and her back tore open from the inside. Carving its way out was two petite pair of wings, no larger than her hand. Sharp though, which was why they had managed to carve their way out. They didn't remain small for long though, as they grew, and the space they had claimed on her back grew with them. Falling flat onto the ground, Rosaline could do nothing but cry helplessly as she changed, fearing the worst. She felt the wings heavier and heavier, as they settled on her back, her hair moving along with them as they moved. Soon the wings had sprouted into a pair of large wings, well able to shield her whole back when folded, and well within their power to lift her from the ground, should she attempt it. They folded tight against her back though, squeezing in some hair too, which pulled in her head but wouldn't come loose. Her hair was strong, it appeared, wouldn't come loose even when something as strong as these wings pulled at it. The wings clinged tight against her back though, clearly not growing any more, and instead shielding her out of reflex. They were part of her now, after all, and she was in pain. Afraid and in pain, so they protected her back like arms would protect the front.

Laying flat on the ground wasn't an option much longer, as her chest pressed uncomfortably. Gasping and still so very afraid, she rolled onto her back, laying arched with her back and whimpering, her eyes sealed shut. She was maturing according to new laws now, and females were mothers out in the wild world. A tickling sensation spread through her breasts, and with tearful eyes she stared rather easily at her chest, herself laying arched on the ground making the view of the event more accessible. She could feel the skin of her breasts stretch and change, toughening into a state of firmness so to properly endure the change that was coming. And they went almost numb, a faint tinging sensation being all that presented itself as she could actually watch her breasts grow with every breath she took. Faint lines of white milk escaped their tips as they grew, and she whimpered at the sight. It wasn't a completely unpleasant feeling, unlike the rest of her change. It was closer to the sensation of a massage in comparison to what had been happening to the rest of her, which lead to her mind appreciating the respite that that particular change brought. She turned where she laid and went back to her knees, feeling the weight at her chest increase. The formerly petite breasts had never before moved along with her, but now they had grown into a prominent size that would put some of the corset beasuties of the court at envy.

She almost giggled at that notion, which was not like her at all, before she once more cried out in pain. Looking down along her body, she could see that her feet had now clawed their way into the ground, but not as feet, but almost as talons. Scaled, dark and clawed, her feet had embedded her into the ground unreasonably firmly, which was probably the reason why she didn't fall over at this next sensation. Her forehead ached with impossible pain, and Rosaline was confident that her head would crack at any moment. She wasn't far from the truth, as a cracking noise caused her forehead to bleed. Crying in greater pain than she had been in througout this whole transformation, horns began to visibly grow from her forehead. The pointy edge pierced the skin from the bones inside, and grew, and grew, and grew. And Rosaline felt every milimeter of it come into place, and watered the ground beneath her with tears.

As they ceased, she barely had time for breath, even though she had been hyperventilating throughout most of this process, and a ripping sensation at the base of her spine made her scream out in a final cry of agony. A tail sprouted, and grew, and grew, and grew. A scaled tail that seemed to force its way out of her body, even though it impossibly could've fitted inside of her before this. Once at its full length, the slim, scaled tail snapped its existance complete like a whip and Rosaline could feel it like a fifth limb, and explored the air at her back with this whip of a tail. Completely exhausted, Rosaline then collapsed on the ground.

Did the spell work? She still cried out and curled herself up but the sudden giggle more or less ruined Heléwans concentration. His eyebrows furrowed as he studied her, one moment crying out in pain and then suddenly giggling like a little girl. She suddenly faced him again and her tiny hand reached for his and grabbed hold of it, and he actually winced in pain at her grip. His eyes darted back and forth between her tiny hand and the vice grip they held on his own, and her tearful, pleading eyes as she begged for his help. There was a sudden pause then as he stared at her eyes. Her... Yellow eyes? Wait, wasn't her eyes green?!

There was a loud cracking noise that filled the air between them and she pushed him away with a strength no little princess should have, and Heléwan found himself lying on the grass nearly two feet from her, staring at the girl. The odd noise was coming from her, there was no doubt about that. "Rosaline!" He cried out, watching her standing on all four, tears running down her eyes, her body trembling and the odd, sickening sounds escaping her body. Before his eyes Heléwan suddenly noticed that her hands and arms were undergoing a change. The skin gradually began to darken until dark scales suddenly erupted from the skin, continuing like this until half her arm, right up to the elbow, suddenly had become something like... A dragon claw? No, not quite. Even with the powerful claws that now adorned the top of her fingers her hands still appeared more gentle than the ferocious paws of a dragon, as if she had slipped on a glove of dragon scales over her hands. Heléwans eyes grew wide as he realized that she was, for the lack of a better word, transforming before his very eyes. The drenched dress then suddenly began to distort along her body, as her entire being suddenly began to grow bigger. Her small petite body almost seemed to age at several years every second, her pink hair darkening slightly as it began to cascade down her still growing body, long, wonderous tresses that nearly began to cover her form, as if to maintain her dignity even as her dress began to strain and tear at her larger body testing it's far too small size. No, she wasn't merely growing. It really was as if she aged, as if her small, young body matured into the form of an adult woman. Her legs, once rather thin and not all too attractive grew longer and more defined, and perhaps because he was studying her legs to intently did he notice that her feet were undergoing a change similar to her hands. He barely had a chance to see what they had looked like before they do suddenly began to grow dark scales, the same mixture of dark-to-red as on her hands, reaching up to her knees. Her new feet did share more characteristics with a dragon paw than a human foot, strong claws and digits clawing at the ground as the changes swept over the poor girl. Heléwan found himself locked in place, helplessly staring at Rosaline as the transformation changed her body into something inhuman. His mouth was wide open and his eyes began to tear and hurt a little simply because he hadn't blinked for a while now.

Rosaline suddenly jerked upward a little, almost as if something was pulling at her. He couldn't quite see what was happening to her back as her long, thick hair still covered it slightly, but his curiosity was answered when a pair of small wings suddenly shot out from her shoulderblades. Heléwan blinked. Wings? They were dark and appeared almost disproportional to her now far larger body, but almost as if they listened to him they suddenly spread wide. And wider. And wider! Rosalines hands gave up beneath her and she fell down on her stomache as her new dragon-like wings grew larger and larger, the scales having the same combination of dark and red as her hands and feet. Her wings continued their growth until they were nearly as large as her body, stretching more than an armlength to each side, at which point they suddenly folded together at her back, almost as if to shield her body. Wings. Dragonwings. Heléwans mind was racing. Was this the effect of black dragon blood? It transformed you into a dragon?

No, not a dragon. Despite the many changes that had overcome Rosaline, he could still see the traces of her old self. She appeared more like some sort of half-human, half-dragon creature.

A series of gasps and whines escaped her where she lay, and Rosaline rolled over on her back and sat up slightly as if to look down at her body. Her body was now only clad in rags and small torn remains of the dress that had once clad her, and at first he thought that the transformation was done. Right up until he noticed her chest, which she too was staring at. Her transformation had left her breasts in their small, flat state, but whatever power that was changing her seemed to have now gathered there as her breasts now slowly began to grow bigger and bigger. Her breasts still rose and fell with her every breath, but for ever breath she took they reached out a little further, grew a little bigger, rounder and firmer. She whimpered softly at the sight of her breasts swelling, and even Heléwan, right in the midst of all that was happening, at to admit that this change did seem a tad bit more... Enjoyable than the previous ones. She began to move, her new breasts lulling back and forth with her every motion, as she once more stood on her knees. Even in this position her new breasts seemed to retain their new amazing shape, growing still a little bigger and keeping a firm, round and full shape. Her nipples didn't seem to grow particularly bigger like how Heléwan had seen other women with large breasts, but they still stood erect and drippling slightly from a pearl white moisture. A giggle escaped Rosalines slightly fuller lips but ended quickly as she once more cried out in pain. More?! Heléwan swallowed and licked his lips. What else now?

Her forehead was bleeding from two points as another wave of cracking noises escaped her. The tears from her eyes mingled with the blood from her head as two horns began to grow out of her head, the combination of dark and red present once more as they grew further and further out of the poor girls head, untouched by her cries of agony. She barely had time to pause as the noise returned, as from above her now more shapely behind a tail pushed out from her spine, a long, scaled dragon tail. It was slightly wider at the base but tapered out towards the end, giving it a rather thin and whip-like appearance which was only further enhanced as it snapped back and forth behind her. Overcome with the ravages made upon her body Rosalines body quivered and finally came to a rest as she collapsed, her new wings, tail and far longer hair sprawled out beside her.

The world around him grew quiet. Seconds passed with only his own thundering heart and his strained breathing in his ears. His gaze was still firmly fixated at Rosaline where she lay infront of him, the scene that had just transpired before him appearing before his eyes again and again. Rosaline. The princess. Transformed. "Rosaline?" Heléwan whispered weakly. He began to move a little, trying to force his limps into action. He still couldn't look away from the girl... No, woman infront of him, and his eyes kept staring at her even as he slowly began to move towards her, as if he still refused to believe it. He finally fell down on his knees before her and turned her over on her back, struggling slightly with her wings to try and get her to a comfortable positon. He guessed she would be as tall as he was now, though he couldn't really tell from his position. Her chest rose and fell in a slightly more peaceful fashion now that she had lost consciousness, though she still breathed a bit heavier and quicker than normally. Even now, lying on the flat of her back her breasts retained that perfectly round and firm shape and he had to snap his gaze away from them to study her more closely. Her face was wet from tears and blood, but other than that (and her changed appearance) she seemed fine from what he could tell. He sat beside her a little while as he tried to gather his thoughts and accept what had happened. What had actually happened? He could only assume it was the blood that had changed her, at which point he felt a little guilty knowing he had been the one to cause the blood to splatter at her. But of course, how could he had known? How could he had foreseen where she would have been or how the blood had.... He shook his head to stop the sudden influx of thoughts. It was an act of Gods, of chance, that this had happened and blaming himself was out of the question. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he sat up and went to his backpack and began to gather some supplies. He dipped one of his blankets in the water in the river and began to clean Rosalines face, wiping away the trail of blood on her forehead and the tears from her face, as well as prepering a little to eat. He could try and wake her up with his magic but he figured that he'd give her body a chance to rest and recover after the dramatic transformation.

As he was walking about there was a sudden thought that struck him and he stopped dead in his tracks. The contact with the dragon blood had transformed her body but was that the only thing that had changed? How would her mind change from such a transformation? He looked back at her form as she rested peacefully, remembering the grip on his hand and the way she had thrown her off of him even before she had began to change. Who knew what else she could do now? If she was still Rosaline the princess he had little to worry about, but if the evil of Xanatos somehow had corrupted her spirit as well as ravaging her body... Heléwan gathered his belongings near the sleeping woman so that he could keep his weapons close in case she were to go berserk or such when she woke up. It felt like a rather strange thing to worry about and he hoped of course that he wouldn't have to worry about that as he cleaned away the last traces of blood on her face, as well as holding up her head and try to get her to drink a little water. But could he really afford not to worry about it? With his hand positioned at the back of her head he couldn't help but run his fingers through her hair a little, enjoying the feeling of her new, thick tressses running past his fingers. He looked over the unconscious woman one more time, a sudden leap in his insides surprising him a little. For some reason he couldn't help but thinking that there was something... Beautiful about her new form. Alluring, even. The image of the plain little girl flashed through his mind and he couldn't help but compare her old self to the mature, beautiful woman that rested beside him. Her face bore only the slightest traces of the young girl, like comparing a daughter to her mother, or a young girl with her adult self. She was easily one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, perhaps the most beautiful. Her pink hair had darkened and grown longer, incredibly so, as it was almost like a blanket beneath her. It was easily past her hips, perhaps even to her knees if not even past that. Since she was lying down he couldn't really tell but it was long. Very long. Her body, with her larger breasts and womanly curves, only enhanced her beauty and his eyes once more danced over her, taking in her appearance and feasting upon what he saw. Her taller body was slender, firm and toned, somewhat like the warrior women Heléwan had encountered, but while he could sense the strength within the womans body it was equally matched, if not overshadowed, by her womanly, soft curves. Strength and beauty in such a combination, it was as if she was... Perfect. But then there was the inhuman parts of her as well. From her smooth, pale forehead the two long horns erupted from her skull. They curved upwards and grew thinner at their points, and Heléwan remembered images he had seen of demons and devils with horns slightly similar to hers. Lying on her back her wings and tail were slightly but not entirely hidden beneath her, but he could see her tail twitching slightly in her sleep and her large dragon-like wings were still folded behind her. Her hands and legs were perhaps the part of her that had changed the least, relatively speaking, and they were still covered by scales in some strange, twisted hybrid of a womans gentle hand and feet, and a ferocious dragons claws and paws.

Heléwans once more forced himself to close his eyes and ignore her body. There were far more important matters to attend to at the moment instead of admiring a beautiful woman, like seeing to the beautiful womans health and see to it that she would recover... If she would recover. He pushed those thoughts aside and held a cup of water to Rosalines lips. "Rosaline?" He asked quietly and shook her gently as he held his hand behind her head.