The battle had seemed endless. Dragons fought fiercely overhead, their wings creating powerful gusts that sent trees toppling in all directions. Their riders, clad in black armor, moved like shadows, their intentions as deadly as the beasts they controlled. Kael was no stranger to war, but this—the sheer intensity of it—was something he hadn't anticipated. The rogue riders had ambushed them with an efficiency that left no room for mercy, no quarter given. They had come with a single purpose: to end him.
But now, with the arrival of the cloaked figure, things had shifted. The newcomer moved like a ghost, swift and precise, cutting down any who dared come too close. The dragon with Alena shrieked in pain as the stranger struck it from above, sending it spiraling out of control. The beast crashed into the forest floor, its massive form slamming against the earth with a deafening roar. But even then, the rogue riders showed no sign of retreating.
Elyra had barely managed to push herself off the ground, her body still aching from the impact, when she saw Kael's eyes lock onto the newcomer. There was a flash of recognition there—a flicker of something more than just gratitude. Was it relief? Or something else?
"Who the hell is that?" she hissed, scrambling to her feet. She reached for her dagger instinctively, her fingers trembling as the adrenaline still coursed through her veins. The danger hadn't passed. The battle wasn't over.
Kael didn't answer immediately, his eyes still fixed on the cloaked figure. "I don't know," he murmured under his breath. "But they're here to help."
Elyra's heart raced, but she couldn't take her eyes off the figure. The stranger moved with a grace that reminded her of Kael himself—fluid, controlled, but deadly. Their blade was drawn, and every movement seemed calculated, each strike purposeful.
"Stay close," Kael ordered, his voice low. "We can't afford to get separated."
The firelight from the battle illuminated their surroundings in eerie flashes, casting long shadows that twisted and writhed like living things. Elyra followed Kael's lead, keeping her movements sharp and focused. She glanced at Vespera, who was standing a little to the side, her expression unreadable, though her eyes flicked from Kael to the newcomer with growing interest.
"I didn't think anyone else would show up," Vespera remarked, her voice tinged with curiosity. "This isn't their fight. But they're here, all the same."
Kael didn't look at her. His attention was fixed on the battle, but his voice was filled with a quiet certainty. "They're not here for us. Not exactly. They have their own reasons."
The masked rider, still mounted on his dragon, let out a furious yell as he began to regain control of the beast, the massive creature's eyes glowing with fury. "You think you can stop us? You think anyone can stop what's coming?"
Kael turned to face him, his posture tense. "I'm not trying to stop anything," he shot back. "I'm trying to survive."
But the masked rider wasn't finished. "Survival isn't enough anymore, Kael. You should have stayed hidden. You should have stayed in the shadows where you belong. But now… now you're going to burn with everything else."
A ripple of unease passed through Kael, but he didn't show it. His eyes darkened, and in that moment, Elyra saw the full weight of his past in his gaze. The masked rider was speaking truths Kael had been running from, truths that still haunted him.
The air thickened with tension. Kael's hand tightened on his sword hilt, the knuckles white from the force. Elyra's pulse quickened as she instinctively stepped closer to him, the feeling of protection and danger intertwined.
"We'll see about that," Kael muttered, his voice cold as ice.
The stranger continued to weave through the battle, cutting down enemies left and right, but Elyra couldn't help but feel something was off. The stranger fought with such ferocity, such precision, that it almost seemed too good to be true. Who were they really?
Kael seemed to sense the same unease. He shifted his stance slightly, his hand still on his blade as he addressed the newcomer. "You're not here just to help, are you?" he asked, his voice low.
The stranger stopped mid-fight, turning their masked face toward him. "I never said I was," they replied, their voice laced with something Elyra couldn't quite place—something deeper, darker. "I have my own reasons."
That sent a shiver down Elyra's spine. It wasn't the words alone that unsettled her, but the way they were spoken—cold, distant, with an undercurrent of something dangerous. She glanced at Kael, who seemed to be processing something in that moment. Something about the stranger was familiar to him, but she couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing.
Elyra felt a hand on her shoulder, and she spun around to find Vespera standing there, her expression unreadable as usual.
"Stay sharp," Vespera said, her voice quiet but urgent. "There's more to this battle than you realize. This isn't just about Kael's past. It's about something much bigger."
Elyra met her gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do you mean?"
But before Vespera could answer, the masked rider and his dragon charged forward again, their roar echoing through the woods, rattling the very ground beneath them.
Kael and the newcomer sprang into action, their swords flashing in the moonlight, a deadly dance between the two of them and the riders. The battle was far from over, and the night felt like it would never end. But as the dragons circled, as the riders attacked with renewed fury, one thing became clear: this was a turning point. And no matter who was fighting for what, no one was going to walk away unscathed.
But as the battle surged and flames lit the dark sky, Elyra's heart lurched for an entirely different reason. Her dragon.
Where was her dragon?
Her gaze swept the skies, frantic. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the shadow of a dragon, its wings silhouetted against the firelight—but it wasn't hers. Elyra's pulse quickened as she scanned the chaotic scene, her mind racing. She could feel the familiar pull, that strange bond, pulling her towards the clearing where her dragon should've been.
A scream ripped through the air, cutting through the confusion, a sound so primal, so filled with agony that Elyra froze. Her heart stopped.
It was her dragon.
She was too late.
Without thinking, she ran, her feet pounding the earth, her eyes darting around desperately. Her dragon. It had to be okay. She reached the clearing just in time to see the form of her dragon crumpled against the ground, its wings twisted in unnatural angles. Blood—her dragon's blood—painted the earth. The beast's once-vibrant scales were marred by deep gashes, and its head lay limp against the ground, its eyes no longer glowing with the life she knew.
"No!" Elyra cried out, her voice hoarse with disbelief. She fell to her knees beside the fallen creature, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch its cooling body.
It wasn't just an injury. It was death.
Her dragon was dead.
The pain that hit her was indescribable. It felt as though a part of her soul had been ripped away, torn into pieces that would never be whole again. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She was frozen in place, the world around her swirling in chaos, yet all she could hear was the thundering silence in her chest. Her dragon had always been her protector, her partner in this journey. And now, it was gone.
"Elyra."
The sound of Kael's voice cut through her fog of grief, but she didn't look at him. Didn't move. Her entire focus was on the creature that had once shared her heart.
"Elyra, we need to go."
But it was too late. The rogue riders had taken everything from her. Not just her dragon, but the one piece of herself that she'd always felt safe with. They had shattered the bond.
Her heart hardened, not with anger, but with the cold truth. This wasn't over. It couldn't be.
As the battle raged on in the distance, the truth settled in the pit of her stomach: the war had come for her, and it had already taken the one thing she couldn't replace.
This was far from over.