Ashes

After several minutes of wandering back and forth, studying this dragon’s corpse, I finally came to the conclusion that I was wasting my time here. I had seen a dragon or two in Equestria. I had also seen them in books in the human world. Neither of these things helped me decipher anything about this particular dragon.

Worse, I couldn’t find anything that would’ve killed it.

I stepped over the spiked tail coiled around the plaza as I made another round. I figured that, for a weapon to kill a dragon this size, it needed to be big and powerful enough to punch through the armor and hit something vital. And while there were a few spots where the scales had started to rot, none of the patches were big enough to hide a wound that size.

Which brought me to my next logical conclusion: poison. A smaller weapon coated with a potent enough poison could hide amongst the damaged parts of the body while still being powerful enough to kill. I had never heard anything like that in Equestria. Human mythologies did, but they weren’t exactly the most factual accounts.

Did this world have poison so potent as to kill a dragon like this?

Surely such a thing would have left some indication. Sure, the scent of rotting dragon burned my senses and the veiny, raw strings of meat visible beneath the skin were stomach-turning, but those were things I would expect from a corpse left to rot under the sun. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

I briefly considered that it may have simply succumbed to disease.

Regardless, I had failed at my objective. I had found nothing to help me fight off a dragon if such a thing would come to pass. What I had found instead was a series of existential questions.

Everything I had come across in this world was dead. The bare, root-looking plants grew out corpses, the hollows were comparable to rotting zombies. Even I was dead. I shuddered at that thought and a gnawing sense of emptiness at my core.

This world felt dead and hopeless.

Twilight had built her machine to learn about other worlds.

But what did a world like this have to teach? What lessons could I learn standing here, staring at the countless bodies piling up around me? Even this dragon, one of the mightiest of beasts to ever have existed in either of my homeworlds, was nothing more than another corpse here.

What chance did I have? What was the point?

I slipped my hand into my pocket and ran my finger over the edge of my phone. I still had a purpose. I still needed to find my way home. But what would become of this world? Was it doomed to linger on like the hollows that inhabited, shambling and pointless? Was this the way it had always been? Looking at the castle in the distance and the city around me, I couldn’t believe that.

I wouldn’t find my answers here.

I pushed my growing sense of dread aside. I needed to keep moving.

I wiped my eye with the back of my hand and began to descend the tower.

As I started down the first set of stairs and onto the second, I did my best to avoid the dragon’s empty gaze. That second staircase brought me down into what I thought might have been some sort of break room for the soldiers that once guarded these walls. Without sunlight or torches, it was difficult to see. Tables and chairs were scattered around, covered with rotten food and weapons. A few chairs and empty boxes were smashed open. The floor, though stone at the edges of the chamber, had sections of close-knit wooden crossbeams that groaned as I put my weight on them.

And of course, like everything else, corpses were strewn about the room. Some, more fresh and still bleeding, others dry as bone. I tried not to look directly at them.

The exit at the other end of the tower led out to another section of the wall. One I needed to cross. The only problem was, a chunk of the wall had collapsed. The metal bars that were probably once a gate had been crushed and bent by a large pile of stone, rendering the passage blocked. Instead, my path forward was a ladder at the center of the room that took me down to the next level.

I felt each wooden ladder rung bend under my weight as I climbed down.

At the bottom, I found another table, more chairs, and a doorway filled with sunlight. Outside, I found myself on a lower section of the wall. Ahead of me, I could see two paths, both of which led to the next tower. A staircase to my left led back up to the top of the wall. According to my mental map, that was where the destroyed door should have led.

To the right, the lower path continued. At the end of it, I could see a set of stairs that skirted past the next tower, taking me directly onto the section of the wall after it and then to the next tower that I needed to get to. The right path also had more than a few bodies decorating it. More soldiers.

Speaking of which, there was another hollow soldier in my way. This one carried a shield and spear. He laid on his back, gut split open, staring into the sky with a vacant gaze. Normally, I would have ignored him, but this wasn’t a normal case. He was lying on the floor directly in my path and the space was too thin to skirt around.

With no other option, I shuffled closer and tried to step over with a single long stride. Walking over the body of a dead man sent a chill up my spine. That chill turned to frozen terror as a dry, leathery hand wrapped around my ankle. Before I could stop myself, I let out a hoarse cry. The dead soldier was stirring. He’d let go of his spear in order to grab me.

And he wasn’t the only one. The bodies at the end of the lower path were also starting to shift. They were all still in various states of putting themselves back together . One was trying to stuff blackened intestines back into his stomach. Another reattached his arm. A third pushed the split halves of his face back together. It looked like something out of a horror movie. Even worse, the first two to reform reached down to pick up crossbows from the bloodstained floor.

I needed to get away before they started firing.

In my panicked state, I didn’t think to reach for my dagger. Instead, I turned toward the hollow holding me in place, pulled my arm back, and let loose a straight right punch into his nose. I could feel the front of his skull shatter against my knuckles. Messy, and I hurt my hand a bit, but I was able to pull myself free. I dove out of the, taking cover behind the stairs. I heard a series of soft clinking as the two bolts bounced off the stone. The soldiers came after me, while the archers reloaded. One versus over half a dozen.

I decided I’d be better off heading up top. At the very least, it would give me some breathing room while I figured out my next move. I took the steps by twos and stopped at the top for a brief moment to take in my surroundings. A few more hollows were wandering the ramparts aimlessly. I could see the gate to the next tower just ahead. Only one thing stood in my way. Another hollow. One of the sentries that held a lantern in his off-hand. The last one in that uniform had alerted half the city. Last thing I needed was reinforcements.

I slipped the knife from my sheath as I barreled towards him. I was about halfway between the stairs and him when he finally saw me. He opened his mouth, revealing broken yellow teeth and black gums. He let out a scream. This time, though, something interrupted him.

Another scream. More of a roar, actually. Hellishly loud. The whole of the wall quaked at the sound. I dropped my knife and grabbed my ears as I fell to my knees. The sound rattled my soul. And I wasn't the only one. The hollows around me dropped their weapons and held their heads, too.

Somewhere, beneath the incessant ringing in my ears, I heard —or perhaps more felt— a rush of wind, like a bird flapping their wings. For a moment, the sunlight vanished as a dark shape soared overhead. I had a pretty good idea of what it might be. As soon as I could bear it, I pulled my hands away from my head, snatched my dagger, and was back on my feet.

I made it a few steps closer to the game when something slammed into the tower, something massive, by the sound of it. It knocked loose stone and shingles from the places, and even sent me and the hollows scrambling to stay up. For a moment, I was worried the wall might have collapsed.

As I pushed past the cowering sentry, my eyes flicked upward.

I was right. A great beast waited on the top of the tower, his stone scales blending with the clouds of dust he’d kicked up in his wake. A dragon. Except this one was very much still alive. Its black eyes swept the wall as he reared his head back.

My eyes went wide and I hurried to the gate.

The dragon’s jaws opened, unleashing a wave of heat that smelled of sulfur and burned my eyes. But that was nothing compared to what came next. I threw myself into the rusted gate. It fell open under my weight, sending me crashing to the hardwood floor just inside the doorway.

I heard the dragon’s breath hitch.

No time left.

I laid flat on my stomach, throwing my hands up over my head.

Then, with an earthshaking roar, the giant beast unleashed a torrent of fire over the whole section of the wall. I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling as the wave of heat washed over me. Immediately, the chill of the morning air vanished and I could feel sweat around my collar. I felt the skin on my hands start to blister. I struggled to breathe.

Then it was over. The heat lingered only a moment more before the cold wind chased it away. I didn’t dare look behind me yet, instead clawing at the floor in front of me, dragging myself deeper into the tower. When I had put several feet of space between myself and the gate, I finally turned to witness the aftermath.

The entirety of the wall’s section became a hellish wasteland. The stone, once tarnished, was now scorched black or molten. The hollows’ bodies were nothing more than charred husks, shriveled, forever frozen in the midst of a silent scream.

Even I hadn’t escaped the cataclysm unscathed.

The backs of my hands were bright red with a few blisters bubbling across their surface. Safely hidden within the tower, I reached into my bag. This time, I pulled the blue potion from its slot. Though the shape of the bottle matched its counterpart, this one appeared an ashen gray color with a blue light shimmering inside. More importantly for my sake, the bottle was cold.

I popped the top and spilled a bit of the liquid inside onto my hand. It didn’t have the same healing properties as the orange flask, but that didn’t matter right now. I just needed something freezing. I sat there for a minute, switching off between shaking hands as I administered treatment.

By the time the bottle ran dry, my hands still hurt, but at least they’d stopped sizzling. I hesitated as I put the empty bottle back in my bag. There was still a bit left in the orange flask. It had healed worse wounds, surely it would be able to heal this, too. I watched the shimmering light inside swirl through the green glass for far too long before shutting my bag.

My hands were bleeding and the pain made me want to scream, but the wounds weren’t life threatening. At least, not immediately. As desperately as I craved relief from my seared skin, I knew in the back of my mind that I should save what little healing I had left for a more serious affliction.

“Stupid dragon,” I said to the empty room.

As if it heard me, it howled and unleashed another wave of fire. I still felt the heat, but at least this time I wasn’t close enough to burn. For the moment, I was safe from the threat of being burned alive. Now it was time to discern what other dangers this room might have for me.

Luckily for me, there weren’t any hollows. Good thing, too. I doubt they would have sat idly by and waited for me to recover before trying to kill me. In fact, there weren’t even any bodies.

The room was split into two levels, an upper warehouse and a lower barracks. The upper floor, where I was currently standing, was missing a large stretch through the middle. The gap was too wide to jump, but I could see another gate on the other side. A staircase in the corner led down to the barracks.

On the lower floor, there were more tables and chairs, similar to the last tower. Rusted metal plates and bowls were scattered around, empty, save for dust and a few bits of stone debris.

Around the edges of the room, crates, barrels, and a chest were stacked haphazardly. Well, they might have been stacked neatly at one point, but the number of broken containers had ruined any semblance of organization.

I poked around at a few of the crates as I made my way around the room. Tucked away in the back, behind crates of armor so rusted that a stiff breeze would cut it in two, I found a ladder. It was rotten and missing a few rungs, but was still better than nothing. I set it up against the side of the second floor opposite from where I’d come in. It was just tall enough to reach.

As I stepped onto the first rung, I found my eye drawn to the last stack of containers I’d neglected to search.

“Haste makes waste, Sunset,” I reasoned to myself. “What if there’s something we can use in there?” Thoroughly convinced by my own logic, I stepped down and walked over to the last pile. As expected, the crates were broken and filled with rotting junk. However, at the front of the stack, a lone chest waited.

Unlike everything else in the room, the smoothly carved wood was unblemished. An unrusted chain hung from the edge, pointing away from the chest in a straight line. The locks on the front were open. All I had to do was open it up and whatever was inside would be mine. I knelt down in front of it and ran my fingers along the finish. If Workshop class taught me anything, it was that this was a fine piece of furniture, something that was definitely out of place in a rundown tower like this.

I slid my finger under the lip and lifted—

Then froze.

I took a generous step back and watched the chest. Perhaps the constant adrenaline rush that was this world had finally gotten to me, because I swore that I saw the chest move.

And after a minute or two of observation, I saw it again. The lid of the chest lifted slightly, as though something inside were pushing on it. In some weird way, it reminded me of the way a human’s chest would rise and fall when they took a breath. But that couldn’t be possible.

An idea came to me. One that woodworkers all around the world would hate me for. I grabbed my knife and pressed the point into the wood. With a quick pull, I ripped the pointed tip through the wood, carving a small line down the side of the trunk.

A trickle of blood spilled from the cut.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I stumbled back in time for the chest to spring to life. It lurched forward, the lid and base of the chest opening and snapping shut like the jaws of a vicious beast. If I hadn’t moved, it would have taken my head clean off.

Next . . .

I wasn’t even sure how to describe what happened next. The chest . . . lifted off the ground as a body uncurled from beneath it. This body was . . . vaguely humanoid. Two feet connected to two legs connected to a central body, except the limbs were too long and too thin.

And then there was the obvious difference: the head.

In place of any normal human head, this thing had the treasure chest. At first, I thought it might be some kind of creature wearing the chest like a helmet, but I was wrong. Its neck connected directly to the bottom panel of the chest. That theory went further out the window when the chest flipped open to reveal fleshy pink gums and two rows of jagged, pointed teeth. Two long, leathery arms reached out from the maw and grabbed at me.

I swung my knife at the outstretched hand, severing two of the fingers. The monster recoiled briefly before throwing its weight forward with a twirling spin-kick. I dropped to the floor, letting the things sail over my head with a noise that almost sounded like laughter. The moment it landed, it started again, hopping and dancing around me in a circle, assaulting my senses constantly with that soulless, lifeless laugh.

I took a step toward me, drawing back its leg and swinging it forward like a pendulum. I ducked as it connected with the wall behind me, smashing through the stone with ease. I countered with my knife, opening a deep cut down its leg as it pulled back.

It continued to dance as if it didn’t feel the pain, but I could see the blood trickling down its leg. I knew I’d hurt it. And every attack it threw at me, each kick, each slap, I narrowly avoided, some close enough that I could feel the wind as its strike whizzed past. I did what damage I could, opening little cuts all across its leathery body. By now, generous puddles of blood were starting to gather in the places it repeatedly stepped.

The fight wasn’t one-sided by any stretch, though. As exhaustion set in, my limbs grew heavy and my dodges came slower. Meanwhile, the creature hadn’t slowed down at all. Its attacks still came frequently and with devastating speed. Given what I’d seen it do to the solid stone walls, it would only take one hit to put me in a grave.

Nevertheless, our dance continued. It swung, I dodged, I cut. Until finally, it unleashed one final desperate attack. Stretching its arms out wide, it rushed forward, as though about to try and hug me. If I tried to move to either side or take a step back, its wide grasp would catch me for sure.

That left one option.

Flipping my knife around to a reverse grip, I hurried forward to meet it halfway. As it swung its arms inwards, it only managed to catch a lock of my hair as I slipped underneath it, sliding through its legs. It may have cost one of the red stripes in my hair, but the maneuver gave me exactly the opening I needed.

I plunged my knife into the back of the creature’s knee, burying the blade up to the hilt. When it tried to pull away, I yanked the blade, cutting deep into its flesh, nearly severing its leg and forcing it down onto its knee. Pulling free, I brandished my knife and leapt onto its back, digging the knife into its muscle again and again. I felt warm blood ooze onto my skin, but I didn’t stop until the beast finally slumped to the side.

It unleashed one final death rattle that sounded a bit like a braying mule.

“I . . . really . . . don’t like this place,” I said between panting breaths.

A hearty roar shook a layer of fine dust from the ceiling.

“Glad you agree with me.”

Like the judge before it, the creature’s body vanished in a swirl of white mist. Again, I heard the legion of voices whispering in my ear, but I barely even registered it. Instead, I flopped to the ground and threw my weight back against the wall. My eyelids were too heavy to keep open.

Slowly, I started to catch my breath.

Dragons, zombies, giant oily snake judges, and now whatever that thing was. I prayed that this world had no more surprises for me, but I somehow doubted that. My head lolled to one side.

I told myself that I was waiting in case the dragon left.

He didn’t, but that was not the real reason for my hesitation.

I was exhausted. Not in a tired sort of way. I didn’t feel the need to sleep. Rather, I just wanted a second to gather myself. It was a bit disheartening, honestly. None of the two, three fights I’d been in could compare to the judge. After all, I hadn’t died this time around.

Still, I had only left the last bonfire less than an hour ago. In that time, I’d made it . . . probably about a hundred feet? Maybe two hundred? Hardly impressive and definitely not something I should have needed a break to recover from. I was no stranger to struggling. I had been Celestia’s student. I had changed species and figured out how to be human. Those things caused me years of difficulties.

Maybe I was just going soft. I blamed Twilight. Both of them.

But that was enough moping.

I put a hand against the wall to keep me steady while I stood. The bones in my back and arms popped as I stretched. I made my way to the ladder, but stopped when I noticed something on the ground. Where the chest-beast had fallen, there was a weapon on the floor. An axe, to be specific.

I picked it up for a quick inspection.

Basically, the axe was a long metal pole that ended in a blade the size of my head. It was heavier than it looked, and the blade had a strange dark haziness to its edge.

I glanced down at my dagger. It hadn’t survived the last fight unscathed, with the blade itself bending and the tip snapped off. It had served me faithfully for the first leg of my journey, but until I could get it fixed, it wasn’t going to be of much use. I bent it back in shape enough to slide it back into the sheath before picking up the axe.

It didn’t really fit my style, but I would make it work. Somehow.

I slipped the axe through a leather loop on my belt and started up the ladder. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to keep such a weapon. The shaft constantly clanged against the back of my leg and the weight threatened to pull my pants down around my ankles. Luckily, I only needed to keep it there while my hands were busy.

When I reached the top of the ladder, I removed the axe and carried it by hand. I tried to open the gate, but it just rattled in the frame. I felt my stomach drop. It hadn’t dawned on me until just now that some of these doors might be locked. If the last door had been locked, that dragon would have burned me alive. I tried not to think about it, but couldn’t keep my hand from shaking as I pulled open to bolt on the handle. This time, the door swung open freely.

I inched through the doorway. Above, I could see the dragon’s spiky tail hanging over the tower’s edge. I crept down the stairs and tip-toed past a hollow soldier that looked dead enough. It only should have taken a few steps to reach the last tower, but I decided to take it slowly and cautiously.

Then, I heard heavy, familiar footsteps.

I recognized the metal-sounding crunch of plate armor boots.

For a second or two, I felt relief wash over me. I’d managed to catch up with Mister Knight. Now, he could protect me while I journeyed, searching for a way home. My foolish hope was short-lived. It was indeed a knight that stepped out from the tower to face me, but it wasn’t my knight. This one was taller, wearing a cape. In his right hand, he carried a longsword, and in his left, a long metal shield. His armor had a similar design to my old companion, but thinner, designed for a more lithe combatant. That’s not to mention that, by my calculations, he stood a whole head taller than Mister Knight.

“I don’t suppose you’re another kind knight here to save me?” I asked, tightening my grip on my weapon. He didn’t react, but I could feel his eyes lingering on me through the gap in his helmet. Slowly, I reached down and wrapped my fingers around the smooth gold surface of my chime.

At once, the two of us sprang into action.

He swung his sword at me in a wide arc.

I threw up my axe, catching his blade against the shaft.

But that didn’t stop him. The force of his swing knocked me back. He followed it with a second. Then a third. Each hit rattled me, loosening my grip on my weapon. He still didn’t stop.

As his fourth swing came at me, I slid underneath it, trying to counter with an upswing of my own.

The head of my axe slammed into his shield.

He didn’t budge, while I fumbled the grip on my weapon.

It was only a moment of weakness, but that was enough.

He swiped me with his shield, catching my cheek and knocking me to the ground with a splatter of blood. He followed with a heavy boot to my chest, knocking the air from my lungs with a gruesome crackle.

I laid back against the stone, staring at the bleak sky as I struggled to breath through the taste of blood. Above me, the knight slid his shield onto his back and grabbed his blade with both hands. He hefted the blade over his head, the polished metal catching the pale sunlight and casting the blade in a divine glow. With a thunderous force, he rained his weapon down on me.

My fingers scraped against the stone until they felt the metal handle of my axe. I threw it out in front of me, using it as a shield. The knight’s blade crashed down against the shaft, bending the metal weapon under the force of his swing. He didn’t stop there, lifting his weapon for another swing.

I didn’t have much of a choice.

The bells on my chime rang out as I funneled my magic through it.

The air around us grew hazy. In a moment, with a sound like thunder, the air exploded, cracking the stone beneath me and throwing the knight away. As his weight lifted from my chest, I sucked in a breath and rolled to my feet.

My lungs burned as I tried to breathe.

The knight didn’t give me a moment to recover.

I’d grown used to fighting the mindless hollows. They came at me, swinging whatever weapon they could with reckless abandon. It was simple to slip past their defenses and end them with a quick, clean cut. But this enemy was something new. It watched me, studied me, and as it swung again and again, it searched for any to draw blood.

It came at me with a wide sweep. I tried to jump back, but the two-handed blade had a longer range than I expected. The end of the blade cut through the armor beneath my ribs, carving a deep wound into my side. I was ready for it the next time. When its blade sailed past me, I hefted my axe and swung. It caught my weapon with its shoulder pad, absorbing the brunt of the swing at the thickest point of the armor.

I wasn’t used to the axe’s weight.

The slight redirection was enough for me to stumble.

And I was repaid with a metal-coated punch to the face, driving me back down to the stone with nothing more than a blackening eye to show for my efforts. As he stepped forward, I flowed another surge of magic into my chime, creating another explosion to push the knight away. This time, the spell left me more than a little dizzy.

To call this bad would be an understatement.

Everything I’d fought so far was nothing more than a mindless drone.

But this was different. This was a knight, probably on par with the one that had saved my life. I didn’t stand a chance in a fight against him.

Simply put, I was outmatched.

On my back, staring into the sky, I caught something out of the corner of my eye.

Something that just might get me through this fight in one piece.

An idea came to me.

I climbed back to my feet. By now, the knight had taken his shield back up. He stalked toward me, head low, grip tight on his weapon. I could see my own blood dripping from the end of the shimmering blade.

“You’re pretty good,” I gasped.

The knight said nothing.

I held my axe tight in one hand and my chime in the other. I waited for the knight to close in. He did so cautiously, keeping his shield between me and him. I could see his helmet tilted downward. He was looking at my chime.

Perfect. I just needed him to get a little closer.

A little closer.

One more step.

The instant his metal heel touched down against the stone, I stepped forward. He threw up his shield as I raised the golden chime out in front of me. One last blast of magic. He dropped his sword and held his shield with both hands as the wave of force tore past him. This time, he managed to stay on his feet, but my plan was already in motion.

Before he could react, I sprinted past him into the tower and slammed the gate shut behind me. The rusted lock gave me a bit of trouble, but it eventually snapped into place. Just in time, too. The knight approached the gate, and when it didn’t open at his push, he just glared at me.

I grinned back.

That just seemed to make him angry. He lifted his shield and threw his full weight into the door. The rusted metal bent beneath his weight.

My smile faded. I didn’t have much time for this.

This tower seemed to be a warehouse of sorts. Crates, barrels, and chairs were stacked up around the room. A staircase led down to another level equally as dark and cluttered as the one I was one. In the shadows below, I could see figures shifting. Hollows, by the looks of them, but dressed differently than any I’d seen so far.

They didn’t matter right now, and luckily, they seemed to ignore me.

Another slam. The grinding of metal reminded me just how little time I had.

To my right, I found what I needed. A staircase, leading up to the roof. I slid my chime and axe back into their holsters as I ran. I reached the top of the stair and nearly tripped over a bonfire.

That was handy. Or would be, assuming that I was able to pull this plan off.

I put a hand out toward the bonfire. The moment it lit, I forgot about it. I needed to focus.

From here, I could see the next tower over. And more importantly, the dragon standing on top of it. I bent down and scraped a stone off the floor as I moved to the tower edge. After taking a moment to test the stone’s weight in the palm of my hand, I took a step back and prepared myself.

Beneath me, I heard the metal gate crash open.

I’d hoped it would last a little longer than that. Oh well.

I listened to the heavy metal footsteps as they started up the tower stairs toward me.

That was my cue.

With a running start, I chucked the rock as hard as I could.

It bounced off the next tower before tumbling down into the city below.

Not quite. I grabbed another rock.

This one sailed too high, rolling off the tower roof and off into the empty abyss on the outside of the wall.

I heard the knight’s footsteps right behind me.

One more chance.

Come on, Sunset. You didn’t come all this way just to die here. Well . . . die again.

“Not helping,” I whispered to myself.

I took a deep breath. Another running start. Another grunt of effort as I launched the stone with all my might.

And it landed square against the side of the dragon’s head.

I gasped. I’d done it. The dragon turned toward me. His black eyes zeroed in on me.

The elation of victory only lasted a moment. Then, all I felt was pain as a blade pierced through me. I felt the point slide into my back, through me, before tearing out through my stomach.

Time slowed to a crawl. I glanced down to see a bloodied chunk of metal sticking out of my abdomen. The taste of blood and metal filled my throat and my eyes started to water as my body went numb.

The pain reignited when the knight pulled his blade free.

And as the weapon tore free from me, there was nothing left to keep me standing. I dropped to my knees, then tumbled forward. I managed to twist around just enough for my back to hit the wall before I slid down into a seated position.

With each echoing beat of my heart, I felt a fresh gout of blood pour out of me. I put a shaking hand against my belly, but it couldn’t stop the bleeding. The warmth of my blood felt oddly nice against my cold flesh.

My eyes flicked up at the knight standing over me.

Maybe it was the dizziness from the blood loss, but I couldn’t help but think about how superior he looked.

He wouldn’t be looking down on me like that for long.

I heard the dragon roar on the tower behind me.

My pale lips curled into a weak smile.

I flinched as the roar of dragon flame rushed over my head. I could feel the heat against my skin. If I weren’t in shock, I probably would have felt my skin blistering like I had with my hands earlier.

But whatever wounds I would suffer, the knight would take far worse.

I watched as the flames consumed his figure. I could see his silver armor blacken and melt. The man inside screamed as the heat seared his skin. I watched him roast with a sick smile on my face. The smell of burning flesh mixed well with the taste of my own blood.

Then, after a few seconds, the flames died out.

I watched the knight drop to his knees and collapse, his armor, liquified enough that I could see the blackened skin and scorched bones beneath. I’d say that it turned my stomach, but I wasn’t sure that was possible with the hole that was currently in it.

Speaking of which.

My numb hand fumbled at the bag on my hip. I plucked the glowing orange flask from inside and opened it. I pressed the warm drink to my lips . . .

And watched it slip from my lifeless fingers as I slumped over.