Everyone recites the stories of bravery and heroism, the tales of sweeping events that shaped the world. They just tend to leave out the little people. As it turns out, they forget some of the big ones as well. Once upon a time, I was known as Fulvaskor, The Beast of Ice. Now we are known by our friends as StockHolm, or Gaius to the commonfolk. Despite my counterpart's reluctance, we've agreed it would be best to hear the tale of a hero of the war, a casualty of the war, and the merged that came from it.
The stories of the monster war is common knowledge by this point, it doesn't matter if you call yourself man or monster. Many years ago, the peace between man and monster shattered into a horrible war, over something as simple as a soul. To those whom cared enough to learn, they know every human soul persists, even if only for a moment, after the body has died. Should a monster come into contact with this soul, they can take it into themselves and achieve power far beyond what would normally be capable. While in contrast, only powerful 'boss' monsters could maintain their soul after death, most falling to dust in death. It wasn't the first time two had merged and created one of these supreme beings, but it was the first time one started a war.
I want to say the war was long and brutal, both sides putting up a fight that set the ground for peace by way of both sides regretting their losses. This was not the case. I can count the number of humans who fell in the war, myself having felled a fair share. The first battlefield could be likened to a desert at the end. The layer of dust was a few inches deep, where a bustling city of monsters had once been. There was no illusions of who had the upper hand, especially when a second human took the soul of a monster. For a dragon such as myself, a single blast of my icy breath could freeze a handful of men dead in an instant, and took no time at all. The gap between these simple knights and those abominations stealing the power of my friends for themselves was terrifying. It took myself and another powerful comrade to bring down one of them, and even then we both suffered harrowing injuries. We'd have survived the wounds, no doubt, if the other abomination hadn't been hot on his fallen ally's heels.
It's an odd thing, dying. You expect it to take far longer than it actually does, and even then it doesn't make sense. I could've survived, you see, as he wasn't aiming for me. I don't actually even remember who I saved anymore. It's like trying to look at them through stained glass. They have a general shape, and a feeling of adoration for the person the shape belongs to, but that is the best I can summon up. Not even a name to commemorate my sacrifice. I do remember why I chose them, and it wasn't just because they were a close friend. I was a warrior, I lived for fighting, and that is how I knew I would die. I would only be of use to my kind in battle, while that dear friend was brilliant. The kind of monster who would bring about change through his ideas and influence. For whatever came next, they'd need him. The good news out of all of this, was that abomination was too focused on them to keep my talons from sinking through their torso. The bolt of magic that lanced through mine did just as good a job though...and I don't know who died first. I just know that I got to wake up afterwards. Despite how Stock feels about it, that still warms our soul.
I speak of the abominations in a hateful tone, because the soul of the monster was caged by the soul of the human, used for its power. We are not an abomination, despite being merged as well. Yes, the reason a dead dragon can write out his own story, is because a boy who just wanted the war to end tried to save a life. The life of a dying dragon. Don't take it the wrong way, I wasn't happy to find my death interrupted by a human taking in my soul, but I rage was doused quickly by his gentleness, his sorrow, and a little had to do with him being a child. Soft spots. Everybody has them. If you want to bend the dictionary a bit, I suppose we saved each other. Had he not rushed over to try saving me, he wouldn't have fallen against my soul and accidentally taken it, keeping it from shattering and letting me truly die. On the same coin, had he not merged my soul with his, he would've died before the human army arrived to rescue him.
Stock was more appreciative of the 'gift' destiny had heaved upon him than I was. I blame the wonderment of a child. That much power suffusing your form tends to have side effects upon it. He gained a set of white horns from out of his mass of rust-red hair, height and mass of a few years of maturity, and a paleness to his hands and feet. Well, just for the cosmetic side of things anyways. While he was no older than seven at the time, he inhabited the body of a pre-teen after our initial merging. He had no idea how to control anything, what touching my soul had done...or how to undo it. He kept saying he was sorry. He apologized that my friends were killed by other humans, that I was killed, that he couldn't heal me, that he couldn't save me, that he took my soul, and that he couldn't give it back. With my ice magic suffusing him, his tears froze to his cheeks, and he no longer shuddered in the bleak cold of the snow.
I struggle to put in words my end of the experience. I didn't see him run up to me, or feel his hand against my scales. My body was already crumbling to dust and my eyes long closed. All I could feel was some part of me I never felt before. Small, cold, and trembling. It hurt, and ached unlike anything I can compare it to...and I knew how alone I was. Like waking up from a bad dream, I felt a body again, but everything was wrong. There was another voice in my head and I couldn't move, but I could see and feel myself moving. Panic overwhelmed me as I felt trapped like a puppet, and when the other voice felt that same panic and responded...then came the rage. It was met with confusion, anger, and regret. All of these things I felt as well, but merely echoes. While I tried to berate him, to curse him and everything he held dear, to fight against my prison...the body I was in didn't have any fight. It didn't have anything to lose, nor was it receptive to anger. He just had regret.
I resolved to sulk, lowering his mood but unable to keep him from using what had been gained from me either way. He learned my name and I, his before the army arrived...but that was as far as I would let it go. While I couldn't blame the innocent for being such, it didn't soothe my aching. I had no idea if my sacrifice was in vain, if this child would use my power to become an abomination that would end more innocent lives, or what I could possibly hope for. Thinking back on those days, it wouldn't have worked if I wasn't bonded with a child. Adults already have their minds made up about things, and aren't looking for more ways, that don't even need to be better ways.
I resolved to remain silent as Gaius tried to find food and water to survive, deciding that he wouldn't contribute to the survival of a body he didn't want. On top of being able to survive the cold, it seems my soul increased his resilience enough that the stale bread and snow was able to keep him kicking for the week or so before he was rescued. The army was quick to scoop Gaius up, despite our souls not being visible, it was hard to miss a human with horns. While the main force continued to advance and force the monsters back towards their eventual chambers, Gaius was taken far from the battlefield to study and train. They needed him for the war effort now that they were down to only their general holding the soul of a monster. However, unlike a soldier getting a power-up, he was just a kid. Anger and unrest ensured the King could not force this child into war, and instead loosened him upon the land. Devoid of home or parents, or even company...he eroded upon my will to stay secluded with his constant devotion to befriending me...just so he wouldn't be alone.
The first time I found out I could be in control, was the day the crier came through the village we'd given a light frost. It wouldn't have stuck in my memory, or even been far from the ordinary among that segment in time had the crier not brought forth 'joyous news'. The war was won. They'd sealed the monsters underground to die out or rot. For the first time since my death, I could feel the heavy thud of my own heartbeat, and I was myself again, rage boiling out in a thunderous growl. I was in some sort of black space, alone and angry as I roared talons scratching over the hard surface of...whatever the ground was. I didn't even notice I wasn't alone until my throat ached too much to continue and I heard Gaius' familiar voice. I looked down in this black expanse just in time to see this fragile, mortal, child press his warm flesh against my cold scutes. I seethed. I wanted to hate him. He was human! His kind had not only murdered my own, but now humans had doomed them to a life underground. He had taken his soul, which started this whole war! If he'd said something? Anything. I might have been able to break my soul from his. His head just kept resting there, trembling against me. Suddenly I was staring into the frosted grass, a blade breaking against my probing finger tip. It wasn't Gaius' finger. I had been the one who poked it. I felt his body as my own in a new way. I wish it had been more magical a time for me, but I could always feel Gaius' emotions and my own before then. At that moment though, I couldn't feel Gaius with me. There was a sadness mixed in with my rage and hatred but that was all.
It was a month of walking towards the barrier before Gaius stopped us at the foot of the mountain.
Our body began to shudder at the raw emotion we felt.
"I don't want to see it, Kor."
Our lips spoke, the words shaking free of our maw before sinking into the snow at our feet. Our body continued to shake until we turned away from the mountain and headed for the village that was being set up in honor of the mages whom had made the barrier.
"Neither do I, Gaius."