Kazilons - Pride

Prologue

Marajhi, the furious lord of Tanzar, as he was commonly called by outsiders, held his 8 year old son's wrist with a grip that halted blood. "How dare you defy me yet again!? Through all of this i have disciplined you-" His grip on the boy's arm was relinquished only when he threw him into his living quarters, "And yet you ignore my demands!" Marajhi's rage was displayed by the glowing blue of his pupils, spreading to the corners of his eyes. 

"Father... stop... please..." Marusai, a beaten 8 year old, heir to the lordship of his home-city Tanzar, held his limp wrist that emanated the pain of a shattered bone.

Marajhi stepped into the cramped room and slung his fist into a wall, splitting the stone of the temple walls, "Every time you disobey me, and think it acceptable to leave the temple, you spew that same request!" Marajhi jerked his hand out from the bricks of the stone wall, and raised it above his son's head, fire engulfed his body, emitting the heat of his rage.

Marusai's mother, Wenhe-Lady Kazilon of Tanzar, sprinted into the doorway, "Marajhi don't!"

"YOU FAIL TO LISTEN!" Marajhi roared as his fist plummeted into Marusai's face. The boy's body slammed limp into the ground, and after but three choked breaths, he fell unconscious, and blood pooled the floor.

"No!" Wenhe fell to the floor, and lifted Marusai off the ground. She brushed his head and wept, "He isn't breathing... Marajhi! Get Gissley!"

"He'll heal, he's a Kazilon after all." Marajhi glared back at Wenhe, "You are only a Kazilon by name, not bloodline." He turned and stepped into the doorway, his clothing scorched, and his fur coat ashen, "Do not let that slip your mind that next time you see fit to command me."

Marusai's white fur ignited with explosive force, the blood pooling the floor evaporated in an instant. His wounds mended, leaving naught but faded scars. The boy raised himself from the cold stone floor, his body consumed in flame, his eyes glowing a fearsome blue. He would soon collapse yet again, but now his wounds had mended, and Marusai Kazilon now knew what his curse was. The branding of is bloodline...

The rage of a Kazilon.