Chapter 9 - A New Name

“Ask me anything you like, Verath,” the huge emerald dragon—my mother—stated plainly. “I can tell that you have many questions. You have, after all, earned this right by winning this death match.”

“Verath?” I inquired, slightly confused by this term. My mother and I were both standing upright, our back limbs supporting our weight entirely. Yes, you should be very jealous. Our forelimbs can act as arms just like a human's. It is only when we want to use our maximum speed that we resort to going on all fours.

“Yes, it is the new name I have chosen for you. You have, after all, passed your first tribulation as an Arkanan, one of the seven superior clans of the old generation of dragons to which I belong. Your success in this first trial is why I am being so considerate with you.” She lowered her piercing green eyes at me. “Of course, you have no doubt guessed that I do not like talking.”

I decided to pretend not to know what she was referring to and ignored her not-so-subtle show of awareness. Curious, I asked my mother what her name was. After all, I had been referring to her as "mother."

“That, my wyrmling son, you do not need to know. Perhaps after you have passed your third and final tribulation as an Arkanan, I will tell you. Until then, mind your own business.”

I nodded while digesting the fact that I would have two more tribulations on top of this first one. I could not imagine what would be even more arduous and difficult than killing all of my siblings. Cruelty seemed to be a dragon's forte.

“How long until my second and third tribulation, mother?”

“About two and a half years after you have shed your wyrm-hood and entered dragon-hood. Then you will undergo your third and final tribulation another two and a half years later, at age five.”

I pondered her words for a while before safely storing them away in my mind. “What happened to Scarlet near the end of this death match, mother?”

The huge emerald dragon gave me a grin that showed off her fangs. “Truth be told, Verath, I had not expected you to win that match. Rather, I expected the twins or Scarlet to win. To answer your question, that was Scarlet's inborn ability: Berserk Rage. Most Astlan, or old generation, dragons of the red hue have this ability to an extent.”

Mother then stopped for a moment to think. “Scarlet was more blessed, as his strength almost doubled, and the deep red of his eyes indicated that he lost control of himself. But that was probably just due to his young age.” She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “One of our red dragon ancestors was rumored to even have the ability to control this Berserk Rage and use it at will. Astlan history even states that he could delve deeper into this ability…”

I nodded before asking, “Then what is my ability, mother?”

“That,” mother pondered for a moment, “I am not very sure.” She wore a curious expression as she wondered. “Judging from the match, you seem to gain power from the blood of others, and perhaps it is only limited to our race.”

I closed my eyes and nodded in response, as that seemed to align with my thoughts on my ability. It was strange how I did not feel any desire for blood when I had killed the gremlin. Perhaps the ability was still latent or something.

Thus, this was how my conversation with my mother went as we returned to our home—or rather, our caves. On the way, I took a quick plunge into a lake to cleanse myself of the blood of my brothers, or as my mother called it, the Blood Baptism, which every brood of Astlan—the old generation dragons—must go through in the arenas. Yes, that dilapidated arena was not the only one on this continent, and neither were we the only ones here.

By the way, I also learned that the enormous forest where I was born was called Jarl Forest, which I found quite interesting as it is part of our clan, the Arkanan's territory. The arena from which I had just left was to the north of this place, and the stray gremlin I had killed was in the southern reaches of this maze of forests. The lake near our home, where I frequently dipped, was called Tranquil. But I would not want to bore you with such measly details.

The most important thing to note is that I was near the northern tip of the Valian continent, located in the western part of the world. I sighed in relief after asking this of my mother because my former human life had been in the somewhat southern reaches of this huge continent, which is where most human cities are located. Yes, this enormous continent was still unexplored, especially the northern parts. I suppose that was why I had never seen dragons or gremlins before.

Needless to say, my mother, not being a very patient dragon, was annoyed by my multitude of questions. Her only reaction was to sigh in exasperation, as if expecting this of me.

I was not bothered by her look telling me to shut up; however, I continued asking questions. So as not to bore you with this tedious conversation between my mother and me, I will make it brief.

In summary, we age extraordinarily faster than humans—you can tell because I already outweigh a horse at barely a week and a half old—and we stop growing at age five, fully coming into our stature. Mother also told me that once wyrms reach adulthood, we can survive on very little food, only eating about twice as much as a normal human. It was quite an amazing fact, as I wondered how we could possibly survive on such a limited diet. I had, after all, seen my mother eat a whole deer. Perhaps she was just an avid food-lover. Interesting.

“Now then,” my mother said, “you shall have a free day before I give you further instructions.”

By now, I was already dreading her “free days” and could feel the dread rising in me. But I did not let it bother me, determined to enjoy this supposedly lax break.

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Thus, after two weeks of arduous training that passed by swiftly, I was now flying free in the air. Temporarily, that is to say, more specifically, for a day. Just like that, I leisurely spent the day swimming in lakes and playing a nice game of cat and mouse with those animals that look like big, ferocious cats, except I was not the meek mouse.

The next day, I went back to my mother, and as usual, she wore her most prized indifferent face—the one that expressed nothing and felt unfeeling toward everything. Although her face painted a different picture, I could sense tension—or was it nervousness?—from her enormous emerald body.

I felt suddenly cautious and perhaps a little filled with dread as I thought about what could scare my mother.

She turned to look down at me, who was many times smaller. “We are going to meet the eldest of our clan, the glorious and ferocious Arkanan. Be respectful, young Verath.” She gave me a knowing look that suggested I should curtail my enthusiasm with questions.

“We shall see,” I said, feeling a little relieved that it was not anything dangerous, with a few questions already popping into my mind.

She shrugged mightily. “It is your life.”