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He’d gotten used to the agony of it all, at some point. The feeling of his blood leaving his body through cuts on his skin, the pain that seemed to accompany his every waking moment, the jeers, the condescension, he’d gotten used to it all. It still grated, he still hated it, but it was expected now. Nothing new. It all melted together into a constant, a single day repeated thousands of times, over and over.
In a way, that made him hate it all even more. He hated that when the man picked up the whip, he knew where on his back it would land. He hated that when the other man came in, he could tell what he would be subjected to by the meal set out. He hated them, for doing this to him, for trying to tame him, for locking him away. He felt incomplete, the stagnating mana in his bloodstream almost palpable. He hated it, and he hated them. All of them. Not only these two humans, who hurt him and took pleasure in it, but also the humans outside who guarded them and kept him here. He hated everyone.
He didn’t know anything other than these four walls, these two monsters, these chains, this muzzle. He didn’t know how long he’d been alive. He didn’t know why he was alive. All he knew was pain and derision and the boredom that set in from going through the same thing over and over for every day of his existence.
He hated how close they were to winning this game.
He hated the way he was breaking under them.
‘Enough.’ He decided one day. He couldn’t take it anymore. One way or the other, this would all end today.
He had long realized the way to leave this place. He had held off on it, turning it over in his brain, but he decided to go through with it now. He didn’t care if it killed him. He didn’t care much about anything anymore. He just wanted to be free, even if it only lasted a scant few minutes.
He reached inwards, towards the only source of power left to him. Towards his life force. There was so little of it left. It had bled out of him with every cut, dissipated with his apathy, and what remained of it only remained to be burned in his rage. He took it, twisted it, released it from his body in the form of a formless blade, cutting through the chains that kept the mana bound within him, through the muzzle which trapped him. No longer restricted, the mana within him began to flow. He felt the power flow through him, thrumming in his veins.
Tentatively, he spread his wings. He flapped, once, twice. Then, again and again, gaining confidence with each stroke. He looked up, the ceiling of the cave seemed so weak in front of the power that swirled in him. He pushed, and a hole was blasted straight through to the sky, almost effortlessly. His breath caught at the sight of blue, at the sun, at the feel of sunshine.
He smiled. It was unhinged, almost demented. It was the first smile he had ever shown in his life.
He unfurled his wings, and he flew.
The black dragon hung in the air outside the cave, above the mountain, for some time. He drank in all the sights around him. The sun, the sky, the trees, and the grass. He was free. He looked down. Beneath him, the men who were guarding the cave entrance were in disarray, pointing at him, running around in confusion. He looked at them, then at the mountain. He called up all the mana he could now use. He could tell his mastery over the power was clumsy, unwieldy. That was fine. He didn’t need finesse, not for this. He pressed. The mountain beneath him shook, then began to crumble. Soon, his prison, and all the guards in it, were buried under rubble.
The cuts on his body still hurt, and he was still bleeding. There was barely a dribble of his life force left. He would die soon, and he knew it. He vaguely wondered what to do, when he heard them. Screams. He looked at the source, then froze.
Humans.
There were humans there, looking at the destroyed mountain. A village full of humans. They all looked fine. Perhaps some were underfed, but they certainly seemed to be in better shape than he had ever been allowed to be in.
He knew what to do now.
He flew in the direction of the village, hatred welling up in him. Why? Why were they allowed to live so well? Why not him? What did he do to deserve this? He called up his mana again. It was still strange, but it came easier now. He started to direct it towards the village, to push the ramshackle houses and all those humans into the ground like he had done with the mountain…
A blade sliced towards him, forcing him to stop, lest he get cut. Unfortunately, his control over mana was still weak enough that the distraction caused the mana he had built up to dissipate, saving the village.
The black dragon snarled, looking at the human with black hair and black eyes in front of him. The fact that those were his colors only made him angrier. The human looked at him, taking in the sluggishly bleeding wounds, the way his diminishing life energy was making his flight unsteady, and a look of understanding and pity flashed across his face. Regardless, he lifted his sword and pointed it at him, before leaping off the tree into the air, rocketing towards the dragon.
The dragon could barely keep himself in the air at this point, much less dodge the incoming strike. His life force was all gone now, his wings barely beating. Was this how he would go? After all he’d been through, after all his efforts to get free, he would still fall at the hands of a human?
He looked up at the sky and smiled bitterly.
The human reached him, swinging his sword.
Everything went black.