My men combed the streets ahead. Dragonfire didn’t choose its victims—it did not discriminate. Shops collapsed inward, beams crashing down in showers of sparks. Homes blocked the roads; shattered carts and smoldering debris choked every turn.
Citizens fled past us, faces streaked with soot, eyes wild. They sought refuge deeper within their burning city. Bodies lay scattered across the cobbles, clothing fused to charred skin. Smoke swallowed the sun, casting a false night over Phares. A dragon-born dusk, thick and suffocating.
At last, we reached the courtyard. Orange flames crawled up the dark stone of the tower’s base. Gyrak’s shadow swept overhead, his screech edged with frustration.
Heat pressed from every side. My golden armor trapped it against my skin until sweat pooled beneath the plates. I dismounted. Soldiers barked orders as they secured the perimeter. Resistance came in scattered bursts, brief and desperate.
The citizens were too consumed with escape to stop and fight.
My men tested the doors. The iron bands rattled, but held. The barricade braced them from within.
Nienna stepped to my side. Heat from the courtyard fire warmed her armor. I moved aside and gave her the space, waiting for entry.
Above us, Breon crashed into the peak of a neighboring roof. Clay tiles shattered and skittered across the cobbles. Bricks tumbled, striking shields with hollow clangs. He rumbled low in his chest, the sound rolling through the courtyard like distantthunder. Nakos leaned over the emerald curve of his neck. Firelight flickered along green scales, staining them a sickly hue.
Somewhere beyond the smoke, Gyrak roared. Breon lifted his head, nostrils flaring as he searched for the larger dragon. His gaze cut through ash and embers. A harsh huff burst from him before he lowered, snapping at the nearest soldiers.
“Give him space!” Nienna’s voice sliced through the chaos as Breon’s claws scraped down the side of the building. Stone shrieked beneath talons. He descended with surprising care for a creature built for ruin.
“They’re bringing a battering ram.” My jaw locked as I spoke. A beast that massive in this narrow courtyard promised broken men and shattered bones. Too many bodies crowded the stone.
“A dragon is faster,” she murmured. Impatience edged her tone.
Soldiers shuffled back, shields raised as Breon prowled forward. He growled under his breath, a nervous hiss threading through the sound. Smallest of the fleet, most hesitant in temperament, yet no dragon matched his speed in the sky.
His tail stayed tucked tight along his flank, posture almost restrained as he maneuvered between walls. Even so, talons crushed stone to powder beneath each careful step. He paused before the doors, waiting while the men cleared his path. Brilliant eyes found Nienna. A soft chirp slipped from him, a greeting meant only for her.
Nakos swayed with the motion of his dragon and offered a sharp salute before leaning forward again.
Claws as long as my leg sank into the heavy wood. The doors groaned. Splinters cracked under his strength. Breon braced on his hind legs, wings flaring wide for balance. Muscles bunched along his shoulders. With a guttural growl, he heaved, ripping the doors from their hinges—then flung them down an empty street.
Two soldiers stepped ahead of me at once, shields lifted. I entered the tower behind them; the air inside was cool and stale. Lanterns burned low along the walls, their weak glow barely reaching the floor.
“Eyes front. Shield the queen!” The command left my mouth as hands tugged Nienna from my side. Claus pressed close to her. My men folded around her in a tight ring. Greaves moved to my shoulder without a word.
Takal and Bac would choose surrender or ambush.
I prepared for blood.
More troops poured into the corridor. Armor clanged in the confined space. The sound drilled into my skull. My grip tightened on my weapon as I measured the narrow walls. No room for a full formation. Every strike would land close.
Deeper inside, I adjusted my hold on my spear and drew my sword. No shield—just blades. I had nothing to hide from.
We approached an intersection, and our pace slowed. Breath echoed off stone.
Three blades flashed from the side passage.
I pivoted, angling myself to block Nienna. A strike glanced off my weapon with a jolt that numbed my wrist. Guards in black armor surged toward us. The soldier at the front of our line went down. One of theirs ripped his sword free from his fallen body and charged me with a raw war cry.
I parried his blow with my left blade. Steel rang as I drove my spear forward. The point slid through leather and flesh with sickening ease, like a hot knife through fresh butter. Wet heat sprayed across my knuckles. My boot slammed into his chest, kicking his limp body to the floor. He collapsed, eyes wide, blood pooling beneath him.
No time for reflection. He was just one pawn, one hurdle between me and vengeance. Every man who barred my path would fall.
We advanced. Greaves stayed close behind me, a solid presence at my back. His proximity to Nienna steadied something fierce in my chest, bringing me comfort. But anyone who wanted her would have to get through me first.
Bodies lined the stairwell in our wake as we climbed. Not every citizen of Phares had fled. Some chose loyalty to traitors over survival. Their choice painted the steps red. Limbs lay twisted at impossible angles. Guts slicked the stone. Blood soaked into the cracks between black tiles. My boots left dark prints as we ascended.
Bloodlust sang in my veins. Each movement felt familiar, practiced, honed across years of war. Like an old friend, muscle and instinct guided me. Battle embraced me in a dance, a rhythm that drowned doubt. I moved within it as if inside a familiar song.
