The knight holds her sword aloft, catching the wizard's lightning along it's blade. So close, now. So close to stopping him from unleashing his evil scheme. She takes slow, steady steps forward, her sword and shield taking the brunt of the wizard's spells.
"Feisty, aren't you?" The wizard smirks. He spreads his arms out to the side, and his spellbook floats into the air. "Like a little ferret. Oh, that's a fitting curse." He cackles, and starts chanting an incantation.
Waves of energy batter the knight, commanding her, forcing her, to become small. She loses grip on her sword as her hand starts to change into a paw, her armor becomes ill-fitting as she starts to shrink. No, no, no! Not now, not like this!
Something within her protests at the forced changes - something that was already chafing at her human shape. She grits her teeth, as she feels a rage rise within her, accompanied by odd, instinctual feelings. An anger, at the gall of this man, to place her in an even smaller prison than the one that already held her.
The fury rises, accompanied by a warmth in her chest, oddly comforting - a flickering, calm flame, an eye in the storm she is about to become.
She stops shrinking. The wizard looks on, confused. He scowls, and channels even more energy into the spell. The waves of magic push stronger, but she stays firm.
She exhales deeply. She feels both immense rage and a strange calm.
She starts to grow larger, once more; but she is not returning to human form. Something within her is subverting the magic. The attempted curse weakened the bars of her prison - and now she is breaking free.
Her hands, halfway changed to mustelid paws, start to grow wicked sharp claws. Brass-colored scales start to blossom across her skin. She returns to her old human size - and then keeps growing.
Pieces of her armor clatter to the floor as the straps that held them in place rip. A long tail bursts from her back, her skull lengthens, her teeth sharpen. The wizard loses focus, his spellbook clattering to the ground. She rises, now standing on all fours. She feels something unfurling, sprouting from her back, something growing from her brow.
"This... this can't be happening!" he screams, launching a bolt of seething black energy in a desperate attempt to push her back. It strikes her scales, and dissipates into a harmless cloud.
The flame within her is now a blaze. She opens her jaws, channels that flame through her - and with a roar and a powerful exhale, she burns his spellbook and magic altar to a crisp, and blasts him backwards into the wall, knocking him out cold.
The room quiets. It's over. She's stopped him, saved the village. But the relief she feels... it's not simply the relief of a job well done. This shape, this form - it feels right. Strong, powerful. She growls happily.
In time, the region would become known for being under the protection of an unusually benevolent, heroic, chivalrous dragon. But for now, she simply revels in her newfound freedom; draws massive breaths into her chest, flexes her wings, and smiles a fanged, relieved smile.

