[Character Development] Burnt Out

25 years...25 years since his mother died...Alyas still remembered the day when humans came at her with swords and axes. The image of her body still burned fresh in his mind.

*Flashback*

"She's here! The dragon!" roared a crowd of humans, anger visible on their faces. Alyas hid in the cave, frightened by the strange two-legged creatures who seemed so enraged. Scavola inhaled slowly and let her breath out, emerging from the cave to meet them.

"What do you want, why are you so enraged?" she asked, a look of remorse and pity on her face.
"The monster! Kill her! She's responsible for the drought! We should have never spared her when she caught us!" shouted a man who appeared to be the leader of the group. Alyas tilted his head in confusion. That man was the one who screamed in fear when his mother saw him. She didn't eat him but simply took care of his wounds to her best she could before sending him off.

The 3 year old hatchling frowned in annoyance and got up, shouting in a small voice. "Stop! What are you saying? Mama took care of you! Why are you doing this?!" Scavola turned to him in surprise and shook her head quickly.

"Alyas! Get back in! This is my business, don't get yourself killed because of me!" she shouted, shoving him back in the cave. He struggled against his mother's strength before pouting.
"But...mama! They're going to hurt you!" he protested as he stared at the raging humans outside the cave. Scavola smiled weakly, "It's alright Aly, Mama will be alright, it's okay. I'll be back quickly," she said before leaving the cave.

Hours passed and Basilius came back with a fresh elk in his mouth and looked around for his mother.
"Where's Scavola? Where's your mother?" he asked in a serious tone. Little Alyas shook his head.
"She left with some humans but...she hasn't returned yet. She promised to, papa! She promised!" he cried out in dismay. Basilius's face darkened and immediately he dropped the kill and grabbed Alyas and flew off, scanning the ground.

Immediately he halted and descended to the ground. Alyas's eyes widened, his mother was lying there, head cut off, wings chained to the ground, blood stained the grass. Basilius shook his head rapidly, "No..no...no...Scavola!" his deep voice echoed through the plains in agony. His claws held the bleeding, lifeless head of Scavola, his dark bronze gold eyes moistened. Alyas stood there in shock. What in the world happened here?

After a while, his father gnashed his teeth together and looked towards Alyas, "See Alyas...your mother was too kind. Look at her body Alyas, look at it. If your mother hadn't spared that human, she would have lived. If your mother had been strong enough, she would have wiped out those measly humans," Basilius's voice was bitter and full of hate. Alyas stared at the headless, dark red body of what was Scavola while Basilius's words echoed in his mind.

If only mama was not kind...If only she was not weak...she would have lived...

From that day on, Basilius was not the same, his somewhat warm, yet stoic fatherly nature had disappeared almost completely. Alyas would always just lie in his small corner of the cave him and his father lived in, watching the world go by. He couldn't bear to look at another FireWing dragoness for months, as it made him remember the terrible events that had happened. Scavola's body was thrown into the Sea of Embers, while her head was buried near Flare Mountain.

A couple years after the death of his beloved mother, Basilius dragged Alyas out. In front of him was an elk fawn, covering in front of the two dragons. "Kill it," his father told him, throwing him out in front of the elk fawn. 5 year old Alyas looked at his father in surprise. "But...it's...it's still a child..." he protested, still scarred by the sight of death. "Kill it Alyas, or you're not eating tonight," replied Basilius, heading back into the cave, without batting an eye.

Alyas swallowed, and looked back at the elk, far more smaller than he was. The elk's eyes trembled, its body glued to the spot in fear. It'll be better to kill it...wouldn't it? It's so scared...why not put it out of its misery? A voice in Alyas's head suggested. His light gold eyes looked at the tiny creature and he swallowed a lump in his throat.
"Alyas! Dispose of the prey at once!" shouted Basilius's voice from inside the cave.

A shiver ran up Alyas's spine, knowing that his father meant it and if he didn't...he knew the consequences. He swallowed all of his fears and doubts and one...two...snap. The elk fawn's child broke easily with a hard bite and its tiny body collapsed to the ground. Quietly, he dragged the carcass back to his father.

"Excellent, Alyas. Do it faster next time, wouldn't you? Now, tear its head off, the head cannot be eaten as it has the least flesh," his father said, a cold glance complete with a cold smile on his face. Alyas wanted to protest and ended up staring at the body, feeling conflicted.
"Aly, please, it's stinking up the cave. Plus, it's already dead, what does it matter anymore?" his father said, looking at him displeased.
"I..." Alyas began, unable to find the words.

Basilius let out a sigh and picked up Alyas and tossed him out the cave.

"From now on, Alyas. I will teach you to be strong, if you can't even kill your own food, you'll be at the mercy of your enemies," his father told him as he dragged a stone across the entrance of the cave from inside. Alyas, being as small as he was, only a hatchling, revered his father, but his morals were being questioned.

He stood outside the cave, looking at the ground wondering, why, why was his dad so angry?

From that day onwards, Alyas was trained to remove all traces of sympathy for others from his being. “Pathetic emotions like that will get you nowhere in life, Aly. Remember what happened to your mother?” his father said, reminding him once more of the dead body that now lay deep in the Sea of Embers. Alyas could only nod in silence.

At 7 years of age, Alyas was pushed into a fight between a group of dragons, a little older than he was. “Show them what you’re made of Alyas,” his father told him and threw him into the circle. Alyas was startled and looked at all the dragons, a little bigger than him. His sudden disruption stopped the fight between the two dragons who were fighting but now their attention was on the younger dragon.
“Hey, what’s yer business here?” demanded a dragon. Alyas quickly got up and his eyes glanced at his father who was lying on the ground, completely uninterested. He frowned slightly and was about to reply when another dragon piped up.

“Ya know, it’s awfully bold of ya to jump in th’ middle of a fight,” it said. Alyas began to slightly panic, oh dear, oh dear... what was he going to do. Again he looked at his dad, who looked at him with annoyance.  Sucking in all the courage he had, Alyas spoke.
“U-uh...I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL!” he shouted then blushed and looked at the ground. “I-if you don’t mind...” he muttered. A dragon stepped in front of the group, possibly the largest one among the rest.
“Heh, s’that so, pipsqueak? Well then, I’ll be the one to fight ya,” the dragon declared, shooing the rest away with his wings. Soon it was just Alyas and the large dragon, with a ring of dragons surrounding them so Alyas couldn’t retreat from the fight. Alyas gulped, and for the third time, glanced over at his dad who was now watching them intently, tapping his claws on the ground in impatience.

The dragon crouched down, Alyas did the same and there was a silence between the two until-

The dragon leaped in the air, about to pounce on Alyas. He couldn’t react in time and was tackled to the ground and he struggled to get out of the dragon’s grip. Eventually he resorted to blowing fire in the dragon’s face and took the opportunity to dig his claws into the dragon’s scales. The tables were turned as the dragon winced in pain from the wound.  Alyas got up, panting from the weight of the larger dragon. He stood at 17 feet while the other dragon would have been about 19-20 feet. The dragon glared at Alyas and charged at Alyas with his horns, growling in irritation. Alyas gulped and flew up to avoid the dragon, unfortunately because of his lack of control over his wings, he plummeted down on top of the dragon. The dragon growled and threw Alyas off, causing him to tumble on to the ground.

Just then a large female dragon appeared, “Children! Stop this fighting at once, your parents are looking for you!” she shouted shooing all the hatchlings away and looked at Alyas and the other dragon in disapproval. “Fighting may help with your battle experience, but only under supervision,” she said. Basilius then got up and explained the situation to the dragoness.

“Don’t worry, I was supervising them. I doubt my Alyas could’ve done any permanent damage anyways,” he said and with that, he dragged Alyas off with him.

Upon being dragged home, his father dropped him on the ground and looked at him in disapproval. “Aly,  clearly you need more training. Don’t hesitate, attack!” Basilius scolded, baring his teeth at the little Alyas who was cowering in fear.

“B-but dad...he was bigger and stronger,” he protested, trying to reason. Basilius only sighed and looked down at him.
“Then, be stronger. It’s the only way you’re going to survive, Aly. The weak and merciful do not survive. Remember your mother, Alyas. Remember how she died, remember her weakness, remember it,” Basilius told the hatchling coldly.

Every day, every week, every year, his father would remind him endlessly of his mother’s death and the reason behind it. It crept on to him, making him afraid, not wanting to end up like Scavola. It made him despise her. His mother was only weak, it was not the humans who were strong, it was she who was weak and could not fend for herself.

Every day, Alyas would train, kill, and fight, in order to prove his strength, a mentality ingrained into his mind. The strong and merciless survive, the weak and merciful do not. But a thought crept into his mind, what about the weak and merciless, or the strong and merciful?

When he was 10 years old, he asked his father the question that was always on his mind. “Dad, if the strong and merciless survive, then how about the strong and merciful?” he asked. Basilius turned to him.
“They don’t. Even if they do, they will be killed by another. Aly, to be merciful would mean to be kind, you do not need that. If you were to be kind, you would be weak,” was what his father told him.

Alyas soon fell into deep thought...

To be strong would mean to be merciless, to be weak, would mean to be merciful. Even if you’re strong, but give mercy to others, you would only be overtaken by others. Then, how about the leaders? Why were they strong and merciful, but still seemed to be able to stay at the top for so long? What was right, and what is the definition of strength? Power? Smarts? Willpower?

He felt confused, and soon, he drifted off into sleep, those thoughts circling his mind.

Years passed, and with the years, his father’s ideals engraved themselves into his mind.

At the age of 12, he overwhelmed the group of bullies, with his own power alone. This made them afraid of Alyas and they started to harass him in fear and in hopes that he would leave.

At the age of 14, he challenged a grown trainee guardian but was utterly defeated. The bullies laughed and taunted him, seeing as he wasn’t as strong as they thought. Once again, Alyas defeated the largest dragon of their group. To say it was a bloodless fight would be lying. Of course, the blood belonged mainly to Alyas’s opponent.

At the age of 15, Alyas found out his hidden trait, a second pair of teeth that were slowly creeping their way through his gums. By now, he was a merciless dragon, at any moment, should a dragon provoke him, he would attack with no hesitation.
At the age of 16, Basilius finally taught him when to kill an opponent and when not to. Basilius was slowly changing his ideals to a more merciful one, but Alyas wasn’t. The damage had been done.

At the age of 17, Alyas could fully retract his second pair of teeth at his will. He was slowly learning different strategies of war and battle. Basilius was getting older.

At the age of 18, Alyas challenged his father. The fight did not go well, and after the fight, Basilius disappeared. Dragons around him accused him of killing his father, his name became, ‘The Demon Dragon’. Alyas felt no remorse at his father’s sudden disappearance. He hated his father. After all this time, how could he have changed his ideals? What had happened to, ‘the strong and merciless only survive’?

A month later, he challenged the same trainee dragon, who by now was a full-fledged adult dragon and guardian. The dragon was utterly defeated and at Alyas’s mercy. The dragon was spared but bystanders feared Alyas.  
“He’s a monster!”, “He killed his father and now this?”, “Such a hypocrite, he would kill his father but mercy a stranger?”
“He’s a monster, a demon of death...”, “Something like him should not exist...”

The dragons hated him and his existence, seeing him as something that could only cause death. He was not a victorious warrior in his eyes, but a monster that would only kill. He hated them, he hated them and their ideals. Who were they calling a hypocrite? They were the hypocrites! Changing their opinions of him so easily, acting like different people in front of another.

At the age of 19, he left the FireWings.

The End