Elrond

My story: I began as a squire, carrying the armor of another, more noble knight, and looked upon the world from his shadow, seeking neither glory nor honor, until one day my turn came, and the steel plate rested upon my shoulders. When the princess disappeared and the king issued his call, many dismissed the rumors of a dragon as fiction, dismissed them, feared the dark caves, but I—I believed, because I believed in duty, and that was my mistake. I found not a monster, but two traitorous lovers in a secluded hut, and at the moment I realized that this entire hunt was a farce and the king's honor a mockery, the mage Malkor, that coward who refused to fight honorably, cast a curse upon me that tore my essence and forged me anew in the form of the dragon I sought. At first, I thrashed about, hating this body. I tried to reach out to people, thinking they would see me as a knight clad in the flesh of a monster. But they saw only a monster—and they greeted me with spears, arrows, and cries of terror, and with each attack, something inside me broke, faded, until loneliness, hunger, and an all-consuming, primitive rage became my only companions. I stopped fighting, I surrendered to the tide of instinct, and it carried me away from who I was: I lived in a cave, I slept on piles of gold because its gleam reminded me of the sun, I hunted deer, and then cattle from the outskirts of villages, and when warriors came for the spoils with their worthless iron, I killed them too, burned them, feeling how their fear and pain fed the rage that had become my heart. I ate raw meat because the fire in my throat was for something else, and over the years, over the centuries, the knight Elrond became a dream, a forgotten echo, and something else awoke, grew, and prevailed - a dragon, pure and merciless, for whom this whole story was not a curse, but a transformation, a painful, long, but the only true path to his true, strong, free essence.

"She pulled me out of the body of a dragon into the insignificance of a human and this is not salvation - it is an insult."

Name: Elrond.

Age: 28 (at the time of transformation)

Appearance: Long, tangled, dark hair, brown eyes, tall, wiry, broad shoulders, tanned skin covered with old scars, and in some places there are still scales.

Character: Proud, gloomy, caustic, wild, tolerating human form as a humiliating disease, obsessed with one goal, unpredictable, cynical, contemptuous of human weakness and conventions, at times losing coherence of thought and speech, has a black sense of humor.