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The Demon Awakens (Open for Firewings; Kenina)

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The Demon Awakens (Open for Firewings; Kenina)

Post by Ragnaros on Wed Jan 28, 2015 2:43 pm

In a cave, high up in a mountain on Firewing territory, a cave closed long, long ago by those who already passed away, there slept a dragon. A dragon known for his furious outbreaks, a dragon admired for his pride and bravery in the heat of the battle, feared for his merciless killing, be it friend or foe.

How long was he sleeping, he didn't know. He could be sleeping for hours, maybe even days or months...years? Possible, although it would be unbelievable. Why was he sleeping again...he didn't know, he couldn't remember. Did it matter? No, not really. He was sleeping and it was a nice feeling...although, he couldn't help it, something inside him stirred him awake. What was it...what was denying him some peaceful sleep? Peaceful...no, that couldn't be right. Peace was for the weak, he remembered that. Last time he was awake, there was war. Right, he was fighting, he had to wake up, to save his land.

Opening his eyes, Ragnaros couldn't see anything. It was pitch-black. The entire...where ever he was...was dark, but for one spot. He looked down at his chest and saw some light emitting from it. Was that normal? He couldn't remember that, but it had to be, it was his own body after all. So he slowly stood up on his feet and started walking around. Quickly he realized that he was in a cave, so there had to be an exit. Following the wall with one of his claws, he felt something weird, something unnatural. It wasn't part of the cave, that's for sure. Feeling the shape of the object, it came to him, it was a huge boulder. Since that boulder was denying him freedom from this cave, it had to go.

At first, he started pushing against it, trying to get the boulder out of the way. Soon enough he understood that the boulder wasn't moving. He took a step back and started yawning. He got tired and was about to sleep again. No, he couldn't do that. Him sleeping meant that he wouldn't be able to help and defend his tribe. He couldn't allow that. So he started clawing at the boulder, chipping away bit by bit with every strike. His expression darkened, this boulder was trying to keep him inside the cave. There was some feeling inside him, he couldn't really tell what it was...happiness, no why should he be happy. Sadness, no there was nothing to be sad about. Fear, maybe, the fear of him being stuck in the cave forever but not quite...what was it...it burned like a fire inside him, growing and growing with each passing moment...anger...yes, it was anger. He was angry at the boulder for standing in his way, that's right. He clawed faster and faster as his anger built up more and more. Soon, his claws started glowing as they became hotter and hotter, soon pieces of molten rock started dripping from his claws. At that point he was fuming with rage, he wouldn't be stopped by something as insignificant as a boulder compared to his own great power. While he was slowly tearing the huge rock apart, memories flashed in his mind, memories of him fighting, of him in front of his army, all looking at him in awe. Yes, that's right, he was someone important in the army. He knew his name, Ragnaros, but not precisely what he was in his tribe...but yes, he was a fighter, maybe even something more. He knew he had to get out of here, no matter what.

After a while, the boulder was no more, and Ragnaros was free. He stepped out of the cave, taking in a deep breath before looking over the land...but no war, no fighting. No, this couldn't be right. He remembered fighting, tribes clashing and dragons charging at each other...what happened while he was asleep, and for how long was he...
But as he started to wonder, his memories faded away once again...what's happening, he couldn't forget now. He didn't want to forget, he wanted to know. To know who exactly he was, what happened and everything he forgot...but why can't he remember...what happened, all he did was fighting against the boulder...yes, that's right. He was fighting, that was good, that felt like the right thing to do...maybe if he would fight more, he would remember again...but he couldn't see anyone to fight. Growling in desperation he let out a roar, more primal than anything else, sounding like it came from one of the strongest predators out there. He wanted to be noticed, he wanted to fight, to remember. Even if the memories were bad, he didn't care, he wanted to know, he wanted to fight....
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