Page 196 of She Who Was Severed

Six of them. Wings wide. Bellies streaked with soot. Their eyes looked like someone had turned the fire down, but left it burning. They didn’t roar. Didn’t speak. Just landed and held.

They haven’t left.

They haven’t been challenged.

I’ve seen them track birds. Seen their heads snap toward sudden movement. Like they’re still deciding if this peace is real or just a pause.

Vale kept things moving.

Took over a half-collapsed barracks. Turned it into a makeshift ration post. Screamed at three medics until they learned how to boil cloth. She hasn’t tried to lead. She just does. One of the Severed asked what title she wanted.

She said, “I’m the loud one. That usually sticks.”

Nobody argued.

I left Kellen once.

Midday. Air thick with heat and ash. One of the dragons was waiting down near the slope. Not all of them came. Just one. Dull red. Ridges silvered with age. Scar carved deep across one claw.

He landed hard.

The man who stepped forward wore black leather over scorched plate. No insignia. No smile. Just the posture of someone who knew what war cost and didn’t flinch anymore.

“I’m Commander Solen Tor,” he said. “High General of Solenn’s aerial wardens.”

He paused. Let the title settle.

“And father to one very difficult young man.”

I nodded. Only thing I trusted my voice to do.

He looked me over like he was checking for something deeper than injuries. Not rank. Not scars. Just what was left behind the eyes.

“You’re Freya Thorne.”

Not a question.

I nodded again.

He didn’t ask if I’d saved his son. Didn’t want a casualty count. Just glanced at the cot through the breach in the wall.

“He chose you,” he said.

I should’ve answered with something clean. Something diplomatic.

All I had was: “He’s alive.”

The man dropped his head—not quite a bow, not quite a nod. Just a moment. Then he stepped back and joined the others on the eastern ridge, where the dragons were already holding position.

They haven’t moved since. Just stand watch. Quiet. Unblinking. Their silence has turned back two scout bands already. I didn’t need to see it. I felt the Chain thrum once, then go still again.

That’s the kind of power they carry. Not loud. Just final.

Kier’s gone.

No body.

Just scorch marks, torn standards, and a trail west.