Argant watched the human die, a selfish act, his taking of his own life. Selfishness, the Ancient One thought, worthy of a dragon. That had been the true downfall of his kind, their arrogance. Sadly, he had intended to allow the farmer to live until his children had formed their chrysalis and chosen their new forms, but the fool had seen only treachery when his mind failed to understand the way of dragons.

So focused on Erwan’s dying smirk, Argant nearly forgot about the vampure. As the fangs bit deep into his exposed neck, he realized little time remained. If he were to take his form, blending human with dragon, the Ancient One must do it before both of them ceased to live.

The bond between vinculum and aerouant is uniquely strong, but even more powerful when bonded with Elderkin. That was the reason the advanced form usually refused humans, and why Argant had chosen this particularly bold one. What he failed to realize, was that the vinculum pair also shared grief, this man for his family and the dragon for his dwindling race. This pain amplified their union and sped the transference of sentience.

Argant should have been able to fight off Dominus Titus. He had expected to finish him off with a single bite. But consuming so many vampure had slowed him, and the sanguis acted like poison to his body. He would have to hasten the conveyance, swapping souls with his vinculum. All consciousness rushed from dragon to man, snapping blue eyes open just as they closed.

What once was Erwan blinked, and those orbs changed briefly to fire then back to blue. Argant watched his former self through these eyes, as the lumbering Elderkin fought against the vampure across the room. It collapsed atop Titus, just as the leech bit deep and began draining sanguis. From this new vantage point everything resembled a dream.

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Argant rose upon two feet, for the first time since his existence. (He had never walked the earth as a wyvern.) He grabbed the wooden handle protruding from his chest. He drew it out with a grunt. The resulting pain, though expected, angered the Ancient One but also let him know the transfer had completed as he had hoped. He walked toward his former body, feeling the new one easily repair itself with Keryx sanguis.

The Lord of Fire had finally taken human form.

I am the first dragon walker, he realized, raising Erwan’s scythe above his head. For a brief moment he pitied the vampure and cocked his head to watch the creature feed. Drink heartily, he urged him, as much as you dare!

Dominus Titus the Abominable had grown drunk on sanguis but had not yet realized what he drank. Titus had recently consumed pure sanguis, but would not be able to absorb what was now offered by the dragon. So young and naïve, he had expected to find only that same meal from the Elderkin’s flesh, but Argant had intentionally consumed too much vampure. The Roman now consumed the poison of his own kind.

This alone would kill him.

Normally passed quickly by a dragon after eating, Argant had held the vile sanguis in, allowing it to fester and collect in the case of this very scenario. He knew that humans were unpredictable and doubted Erwan would remain true to their agreement. This final assurance would kill the vampure. Titus was a favorite of Goro, created by the Dark One himself, and his demise would serve as a lure.

Without swinging the scythe, Argant fulfilled Erwan’s final task of vengeance. He had killed Titus the Abominable. The deaths of Rupert and Racinda saddened him, had slowed his plans to defeat Goro, but other opportunities would emerge in time. All the Ancient One must do is wait and watch, spreading his seed until opportunity once again presented itself.

“Run,” Argant told the Roman woman looking on, “back to Goro and tell him what has happened here today. Tell him the war is resumed, and that I will find him.”