I hesitate for only an instant longer.An instant. In the next, I'm slicing forward, bringing the blade within inches of the dragon'sexposed chest, bracing myself forthe resistance of scale and flesh?—
Then it happens again, same as it did earlier: An uncomfortably hotsensation blooming in my sternum, making my heart skip several beats.
The heat doesn’t subside, this time, and my entire body seizes as if bracing for my heart to actuallyignite. I somehow keep the sword raised and pointed at my target, even though it suddenly feels like the weight of the world is settling into its blade.
Bit by bit, theforest around me begins to tilt.
My balance sways.
The dragonleans forward, nostrils flaring. For a tense moment, I think it might try to snatch my blade into its mouth and jerk it right out of my hand.
The heat in my chest intensifies until I can barely breathe. I hear Briar shouting my name again, along with what sounds like pounding boots pursuing her.
I'm running out of time.
But no matter how hard I try to get myself tofinish the kill, my body won't cooperate.
I take a few uncertain steps backward, my heart still burning.
The dragon…follows me. With obvious effort, it slinks from the water and trudges through the mud, trying to keep its gaze locked on mine.
“…What are you doing, you stupid beast?”
It lets out asoft, strange sound, like a strangled chirp. Its wings flutterweakly, broken anduseless,flicking blood across the damp ground.
Pity.
I think it's trying to evoke pity.
But all I feel is hatred. Hatred toward this creature, and hatred towardmyselffor not being strong enough to just swing my godsdamn sword.
My grip on that sword tightens. I want to try again, but…
Useless.
I'm useless.
“Just go lay down and die somewhere,” I snap, kicking mud into the dragon's face. “And leave this world alone.”
It recoils, baring its teeth at me.
Briar's voice cuts through the trees, frantic and close now. With one last furious kick toward the dragon, I turn and race to meet her.
I don't hear the monster following me this time. I’m running so fast it couldn’t catch me anyway—and yet, it still doesn’t feel fast enough. The world is still tilting. My body still feels like it’s burning from the inside out. My steps become even more reckless and quick, nearly sending me toppling over roots and careening into several different trees.
After colliding with Briar, I finally stop to catch my breath and look behind me.
As expected, there’s nothing there.
But the scent of the dragon’s blood lingers in the air, and I can’t get its face out of my mind, even as the blistering heat in my heart finally gives way to bitter cold.
Chapter Four
It’s nearly morning by the time we make it home.
We’re dead on our feet, so exhausted we can hardly stay upright on our horses. But we still take the time to complete our usual ritual, walking through the ruins of Halvgate on our way to the slum we’ve affectionately namedThe Burn.
Halvgate is the city I was born in. Before Mouren and its dragons took over the empire, I’m told it was a bustling hub right in the center of a historical trade route. Even while I was growing up, it was still a relatively large, prosperous city; much better off than many of the others in our Kingdom of Ormyth, at least. The Ashwalker Guild first put down roots in the center of it, as well. My grandparents were founding members, determined to make Halvgate a beacon of hope and connection among all four of the crumbling kingdoms.
