I only own the characters that are mine. This is an AU of what would have happened if Silas woke up in the Dragon Realms after his encounter with the Chronicler. Based on second to last chapter of Dishonored.

"You shall reap what you sow, friend. A Slayer you live no more; but a Dragon Knight, reborn."

Those were the last words Silas Adler had remembered before his conscious had fallen into darkness. Darkness, and then pain-hot and sharp as his lungs drew breath, thick and viscous air struggling to enter. His eyes had open in shock, circles of storms giving way to white as the sun's light assaulted his vision causing them to close. Silas' limbs had twitched and jolted, the man struggling to fight for his breath as his lungs seemed far too stiff.

The young man had waited until his breath was regained, eyes slowly opening with a groan, sunshine cutting through the forest. It was then he blinked, and froze. This was not Bavaria. This was not Germany. The trees were not the same as his homeland. If he was not in Germany, where was he?

Silas tried to rise, though felt that his muscles were stiff and sore, but from what, he could not remember. And felt something terribly wrong. Silas had felt two masses upon his shoulders, twitching and veering awkwardly, and an odd swaying feeling. Turning his head to get a better look, Silas not only realized he had turned his neck far more than he ever could, but that he was greeted with the sight of what looked like a brown hued muscular wing, which what appeared to be...red hair...going up the wing before dying out, the fold of the limb pointed with hardened, almost jagged scales, membrane a light green and torn and ripped.

"Oh...Oh, no! No! No-!" Silas shook, trying to spin around to get a better look, to rise on his hind legs, but found himself too unstable and had fallen in his haste. He had struggled to get up, managing to get a glimpse upon where his hands used to be, now earthen talons with muscular forelegs, a jagged, dark green plated chest running down from neck to stomach.

"No! No! No!" The former knight muttered in disbelief, hyperventilation in panic as he felt his chest tighten, once more being unable to breathe, heart pounding. He had sworn he saw the all too familiar gleam of a steel blade, but for the life of him could not coordinate his tail well enough to carefully move it-or safely, in his state.

"Christ! Christ! Jesus Christ! O' Spirit of the Holy Father and Son in Heaven, why?! Why punish me so?! Have I not proved my faith, my love to you enough?! Is it for my treatment of Cynder? Of Spyro? Of my sacrifice? Wha...What more do you want? What do you want!? I already gave you my life-my soul! What is it?!" Silas bellowed in rage, bouts of spit flying from his scaled maw, a forked serpent tongue lashing against sharp, thick teeth. His breath was swift and ragged, rage hot and boiling, the young dragon shaking his head.

"What of Father...what of Berend, what of Ember? Spyro's children? Do they still live? Do they still fight? Did they suffer by Malefor's vile claws? Did they win?...please...answer me." The dragon begged, eyes looking towards the sky, pleading, searching for a high power within the untouched clouds, "Please...please, Lord, I beg you. I beg you, please answer me. Answer with anything."

The knight had looked towards the skies, eyes searching. He had seen an eagle fight against the gale from heaven. Though struggling, it was enduring. He had sighed, knowing what he had needed to do. He needed to find Ember, wherever she was.

Struggling to rise, Silas moved awkwardly, wanting to rise on his hind limbs, yet his sore back would not allow him. It felt as if he were walking like a horrid beast, scaled and apparently covered with hair. Walking by a small stream, he had paused in drink, seeing the reflection within the water that was not him. The creature looking upon him had white horns, brown scales and fire kissed hair running from head to back. His shoulders and flanks were covered with what looked like steel plates, though he could not be sure. And as he had guessed, his tail was a blade. Wonderful.

It appeared that God had a sense of humor, and Silas Adler was God's jester.

Silas needed to find Ember. Fast. Maybe she knew what was going on.

And how will this version of Ember react to Silas knowing her? How will Flame and the others react to this odd dragon spouting nonsense? Will Ember choose Flame or Silas in the long run? Who knows! Thanks for reading!