I've been dragging this out for over a year. That's... sad. Really sad.

But anyway, I really want to push this and finish so I can focus on my current work – pimp pimp – a totally epic (or not) and humongously slashy KH fic.

I took a bit of liberty here with the information from the dictionary – it said that only Vox and King Airyglyph had so far tamed air dragons from the Urssa Lava Caves, but I read that as the only two living people to have done it – which makes more sense to me.

I'll also say here that SO3 kicks ass over Anne McCaffrey. The idea of any creature sharing your thoughts has to turn off SOME people, and I prefer the idea of fighting for the honour of a bond with a dragon rather than being arbitrarily chosen. Also, Anne McCaffrey milked that series to hell. And she denied that the green riders were gay. Which they so were.

Blood Stigma

Chapter 13: Accession of the Flame

"I can't tell you exactly what it involves but..." Glou paused, choosing his words as carefully as he could, "Just know that you will be tested in every way. Don't make the mistake of thinking that it will be easy." He leveled his gaze at his son, wanting to make sure that Albel understood.

"Sure." Albel shrugged off his father's steady gaze, positive that Glou was just paranoid. He could handle whatever they threw at him.

Glou sighed and dipped his hand into his tunic pocket, pulling out an intricately carved and obviously very old flute. It was one-handed and only had four holes on the top and one on the bottom. "You're going to need this for what you want to do. I used it during my Accession and my father did before me." He brought it to his lips and produced a shrill tone, followed by another two. "Repeat that." He held the flute out to Albel.

Albel took the instrument and awkwardly held it in his hands, blowing a few soundless puffs of air.

"Move it up a bit. Purse your lips more."

He made a noise – not a nice one, and mimicked the finger movements of his father.

"That's it." Glou took the instrument back and played strange and atonal sequence of eight notes before repeating it. "This is the tune you will need to play to call an air dragon to you, to challenge him. There are other, simpler sequences for opening doors and such." He played a few more notes before handing the instrument back to his son, making Albel repeat the sequences until he was convinced that the boy had them memorized.

"Keep this flute close." Glou ordered him. "One day you will give it to your son."

Ceremony in Airyglyph was nothing like the tedious and complex sort of rituals that he heard they practiced in Aquaria. Albel had to jump naked into a freezing pool at dawn (in the middle of winter no less) and stand under a waterfall for a while (something to do with 'cleansing'). Then he had to fast for a full day before donning the plain white ceremonial garb and trekking up the Mountains of Barr.

Every year about between ten and fifteen young hopefuls climbed the mountain to test themselves, and typically only three or four came back. Each time they would be overseen by the king, the Captain of the Dragon Brigade and an escort of three warriors of the Dragon Brigade. Albel wondered if perhaps this wasn't a bit much, but it had been done that way since the first King of Airyglyph had journeyed up the Dragon Road, and tradition was tradition. At least the poor suckers who didn't make it would have a fine audience for their deaths. The king and his followers would fly up to the top of the mountain to observe Albel's trials, but he had to climb up the mountain alone with only a set of vague and rather cryptic instructions to guide his path.

The slopes near the bottom of the mountain were covered in snow and wild land dragons; the former Albel trudged through and the latter met the blade of his sword without mercy. As he climbed higher the unnatural heat that seemed to be emitted from the mountain year-round began to show and the snow trickled away to reveal bare, sandy slopes and sheer rock faces. It didn't start getting hot until Albel pushed through the waterfall and entered the Barr Caves, the humidity hitting him like a wall. He waded through ankle-deep water and more water dripped from stalactites above him, landing on his head and joining the sweat on his forehead to drip into his eyes.

Other people might not even have come in here, but Albel wasn't going to content himself with one of the lesser air dragons that congregated outside. His father had frowned but had not tried to dissuade him and he had gotten a piercing look from the king during his audience, but Albel had determined that he would defeat one of the air dragons in the legendary lava caves. At present, only his father, Vox, and the king had tamed dragons from the Lava Caves. They were at a level beyond the beasts that crawled on the rock outside, older, more powerful, and some even capable of speaking human tongue.

Beating the dragons and other vermin that crowded the caverns only served to heat Albel's blood, and he began to recognize some of the runes on the walls signaling that he was indeed on the true Dragon Road. The king and his entourage would be waiting at the entrance to the Lava Caves where the would follow him at a distance, only watching, never interfering. Having already made a pact with the dragons, they would never be touched by any of the monsters that would attack Albel on sight.

He passed through the strangely carved doors that opened into the ancient temple ruins. The wide, high-ceilinged corridors echoed his footsteps in a hollow, eerie fashion, but Albel's anticipation overrode the anxiety.

The final room in the corridor saw Albel striding most confidently towards the awaiting party, pulling a rag out of his pocket and casually wiping the blood off his sword to sheathe it and kneel before the king. His father and three soldiers whose faces he recognized stood there with him, all accompanied by their air dragons. The dragons seemed to be unusually energized, and where they typically ignored him today they seemed to be keenly interested. It put Albel a bit on edge, but he shoved it to the back of his mind.

"Rise, Albel," said the king, and Albel did so. "Now begins the true test. It is my duty to offer you a final opportunity to turn back. More men die than survive The Accession and it is no shame to value your life."

Albel could see his father standing behind the king and to his right. His father's eyes were unreadable though fully focused on Albel.

"Of course I will continue. There is no way I could fail." Albel's palm rested on the pommel of his sword and he smirked.

The king nodded. "Then continue, and have faith." The stone door behind the king ground open and a wave of heat flowed out from the glowing chamber. Albel repressed the urge to look back at his father as he stepped through the portal into the room.

It was all stone and lava here and the rock seemed to glow with heat – in fact, the entire room seemed to be lit solely by this glow. Where before Albel had been uncomfortable, now he felt if he stayed here long he would burn and he began to sweat in earnest.

Monsters that were more flame than flesh swarmed the caverns and shuffled toward him in disturbing, lopsided movements, and dispatching them was much harder than the dragons outside had been. With some he felt like he was just cutting at flame and it took longer than he had anticipated to find their weak points and take them down.

After clearing the main cavern, Albel stopped to rest and clean his sword, keenly aware of the eyes at his back. He shifted the weapon to his left hand and drew out his father's flute, carefully playing out the sequence of notes that he had been taught. The noise bounced off the walls of the cavern, coming back to him distorted and even more strange than the original tune.

At first there was nothing, but then he began to hear this whirring sound, the sound growing to something that almost sounded like hundreds of drums overlaid by a high-pitched screeching. Albel had to fight not to cover his ears and maintain a defensive stance as air dragons began to fly in from every corner of the cavern, each one landing with a slam that shook the whole cavern. Some landed with screeching sounds as their claws scraped bare rock and others landed in pools of lava, seemingly impervious to the heat. One by one they began to form a circle, each one craning their long necks forward to take a better look at the tiny human who challenged them.

The king's dragon, his fathers dragon and the others also joined the circle and they seemed to be conversing with the other dragons, heads bobbing and weaving and wings making short flapping motions, or claws scratching in various patterns that were indecipherable to Albel. They all made crooning and screeching and rasping noises, the cacophony grating on Albel's ears and on his nerves.

After some moments the noise began to recede and the dragons fell into silence, and Albel realized that they expected him to speak. His hold on his sword began to slip as a nervous sweat slicked the hilt, but he re-adjusted his grip on the weapon and tightened his fingers around the hilt.

"I have come from the Kingdom of Airyglyph," Albel began the traditional words, "Following in the path forged by the first King of Airyglyph. I desire to enter a pact with the air dragons. If there are any who would consider themselves my equal, let them come forth and challenge me."

There was more noise again as the air dragons seemed to be conferring about something before one stepped forward from the crowd, arching its neck and flapping its wings, sleek black metallic hide reflecting the glow of the cavern. It cried out its challenge, warning Albel to dodge as it rushed forward, letting loose a gust of flame where Albel had been standing.

This battle would be different than the ones up until now – the goal was not to kill or to grievously injure the dragon – rather, this was a battle of dominance and his goal was to make the creature submit to his power.

This air dragon was miles away from the ones he had fought on the mountain, and the differences were in so much more than size. There was a level of intelligence that at times he almost thought outstripped his own – it predicted his moves, set traps, used the terrain and laid strategies that Albel had trouble even beginning to grasp. He was operating on pure reflex, trying to stay one step ahead but inevitably feeling like he was being led. The speed alone of the dragon had him struggling to keep up, to dodge the attacks and wait for the moment where he could find a hole in its defenses.

The battle was not without cost, and it was only after a deep gash on his chest that continued to bleed sluggishly, a heavy bruise on his thigh and a number of shallow slashes that he managed to subdue the beast, taking a flying leap to land on the dragon's back just in front of its wing joints, pressing the point of his blade against the base of its neck.

The dragon whooshed out a sigh and relaxed, lowering its body. Axel leapt off and onto the ground and strode over to where the creature had laid its head on the ground in submission.

Was that it? Albel thought to himself, still panting heavily from his exertions. He really had had no reason to be nervous, if that was the case.

It was then that the air dragon raised its head once more, bringing its strangely glowing green eyes to meet Albel's own, bringing Albel to his knees with an impact that had to be physical.

It didn't hurt, per se, but it felt like something was wrong, like he was going to be sick but wasn't quite able to vomit, like he had broken a bone but was so doped up on painkillers and couldn't feel anything but a sort of pressure – but he knew the pain had to be there, somewhere.

Then there was this other thing, it was inside his head and looking at him, it felt like he was being scrutinized from all sides and he was without a weapon, naked, he couldn't run away and he couldn't fight back. His heartbeat began to race and that feeling that he thought he had banished returned: fear.

His sword dropped from slack, sweaty fingers and his throat was parched from the burning air that he was taking in in shaky gasps, the gasps morphing into rasping.

Albel covered his ears and clawed against the sides of his head but it didn't keep the presence out, there was no noise in it at all – oh God it was silent and it was just watching him, it didn't talk at all it only probed deeper, looking at things that Albel didn't want it to fucking see, things it had no right to look at, things that even Albel didn't want to look at –

It saw his fear, saw how he was trembling even when he smirked, saw how he wanted to shame his father and disobey the king, saw how he was different from the other soldiers of Airyglyph, how he was on the outside, why he was on the outside fuck it wasn't because of everyone else it was because of – and it saw all the places where something was missing from Albel, something wasn't right and he wasn't whole he wasn't healthy or normal or any of the words that really didn't describe what he wasn't, there were so many things that he wasn't – he wasn't clear-headed kind loyal brave strong he wasn't his father – and they were just watching, just watching why didn't they say something the motherfuckers, tell him what was wrong with him, tell him what they so obviously thought –

Then he began to hear himself whimpering and he hated it, he hated this thing that was taking over him and he wanted it out – stop looking at me stop looking at me I don't want you to see get out of my HEAD –

And then as suddenly as it had come it was gone and the dragon rose to its full height, throwing its head up and letting loose a roar that shook the entire cavern and all the other dragons joined in, open mouths pointing at the ceiling and then slowly, slowly lowering, some of the dragons began to stomp their feet in an offbeat pattern –

What? On his knees, something that could feel like wetness on his cheeks, in Albel's confusion he registered some movement at the far end of the cavern, whatever noise the people might have made overridden by the growing roar of the dragons, and someone pressing past the wings and claws, running towards him, it was his father and he was yelling something that Albel couldn't hear, there was an expression on his face –

Terror.

There was only one thought. I – failed?

Albel was thrown to the floor, flat on his back as his father collided with him the instant the flames started to pour forth from the jaws of the dragons. He was in an awkward position, having been bowled over from kneeling and his calves were tucked underneath him. Albel recognized dimly before Glou's hands moved to protect the sides of his son's face that Glou's dragon, the king's dragon and the others were joining in the blast. His right arm was pinned between their bodies and he didn't even think to struggle until the screaming started.

Glou's screaming.

It didn't last very long.

It was after his father's screaming stopped that Albel started and the pain in his left arm started, shit it was on fire and he was slamming it against the stone repeatedly, beating it bloody trying to make the fire stop but that didn't even matter because his father had stopped screaming and Albel was inhaling the stench of burning flesh and he gagged but there was nothing in his stomach to reject. It was so heavy, his father was a dead weight oh God a dead weight a dead weight he couldn't open his eyes against the heat to see and it was hot, hot all over, his skin everywhere was starting to dry and crack. It was hard to find even the breath to scream through the smoke but Albel did it anyway, descending into a painful coughing fit that ran its way up into screaming again – he knew his face was covered in tears but he didn't care, didn't even think about it. He wasn't sure if he was saying anything or not between the screams, all he knew was that the pressing flames seemed to go on and on and he passed out before it was over.