The world felt like it was slowly slipping away—slowly, but relentlessly. The cries of the dragons, once majestic and full of power, now rang out like mournful wails in the distance. The crackling of fire, the clash of steel, and the anguished roars of beasts fighting to the death—everything blurred into a single cacophony of chaos. And yet, through all of this, Elyra couldn't hear any of it—not truly. Her mind, her heart, was consumed by one thought, one image, one feeling: the dragon lying dead before her.
Her dragon. The one she had grown with, fought with, trusted with her life. Now, its once-glowing eyes were dull and lifeless, and its powerful wings had fallen still. Elyra couldn't take her eyes off the body, couldn't tear her gaze away from the loss that cut deeper than anything she'd ever experienced before. The bond they had shared was no more. It had been severed in an instant, and she was left with nothing but an empty, hollow space inside her chest.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as her hands hovered above the dragon's lifeless form, shaking in the cold air. Her fingers brushed the dragon's scales, once so vibrant, now cold to the touch. The shock, the disbelief, the crushing weight of guilt—she could barely breathe under it. This can't be happening. This can't be real. Her heart ached, and it felt like the world was closing in around her.
"Elyra, we need to go!" Kael's voice broke through the fog of her thoughts, sharp and urgent. She didn't look at him—couldn't. The world outside her was too distant, too far gone. His footsteps were heavy on the ground as he approached, but his voice didn't soften; it was demanding. "Now. We're not safe here. If we stay, we'll be next."
Still, Elyra didn't respond. The grief was suffocating. She felt like a child again, fragile and alone, incapable of handling the weight of what was happening. She couldn't accept that her dragon was gone—her soulmate, as she'd always thought of it. The creature who had been her protector, her companion, was gone. And what was left in its place? Nothing but silence.
Kael moved toward her, his form looming as he knelt beside her, his hand extended, waiting. "We need to leave," he repeated, but his voice softened, just slightly. It wasn't pity, but understanding. He knew her loss. He had seen it before. Perhaps not with dragons, but with something equally dear.
Elyra closed her eyes, her hands trembling as they reached out, tracing the cold scales one last time. I couldn't protect you. The thought echoed in her mind over and over, like a chant. The creature she had sworn to protect, the creature she had promised to keep safe... had fallen.
"I can't leave it here," she whispered, her voice hoarse and raw. Her throat burned from holding back the tears that threatened to spill, but she couldn't let herself break. Not now. Not here. "I can't just... abandon it."
Kael's gaze softened, just for a moment, as if he understood the pain she was feeling. His eyes flickered with a quiet sorrow, but the urgency never left his tone. "You're not abandoning it, Elyra. It's not the way. But we cannot stay here." He rose slowly, his arm reaching for her again. "Come on. There's nothing more we can do."
His hand was warm, steady, pulling her from the broken scene. She could feel the roughness of his grip, the strength in his fingers, but even that didn't seem enough to make her believe in the next step. She was afraid, afraid of leaving the dragon behind. But what else could she do? What else is there?
With great reluctance, Elyra stood, her legs unsteady beneath her as if the ground itself had been shaken. She took one final glance at the dragon's body, her heart heavy with the weight of what it meant—what it symbolized. This wasn't just the loss of her companion; this was the loss of everything she thought she knew. Her connection to the dragon had been a lifeline, a bridge between the world of humans and dragons, a source of strength. Now, it was gone.
But Kael was right. The firelight was dimming, the distant roars of battle growing closer, and the forest—always the forest—seemed to be closing in. Time was slipping through her fingers, and she had no choice but to move.
They didn't speak as they trekked through the dense woods, their footsteps the only sound in the unnervingly still air. The crunch of leaves underfoot, the rustling of branches against the wind—nothing could mask the hollowness inside Elyra. She walked on, numb, her mind lost in a haze of grief and anger, but also confusion. Why had this happened? Why had it been her dragon?
With every step they took, the forest seemed to grow quieter, darker. The trees around them felt like walls, closing in, pressing tighter. There was no sound of animals, no rustle of leaves, no birds. Only the heavy, oppressive silence, thick with something dark and sinister. Elyra's breath caught in her throat as the weight of the forest around her became almost too much to bear.
"We're not alone," Vespera's voice cut through the stillness, the sharpness of her tone pulling Elyra from her thoughts. The woman had been eerily quiet since they left the dragon's body behind. Her presence was unsettling, but now her voice was low, steady, full of certainty. She wasn't just speaking for herself—she was stating a fact.
"What do you mean?" Kael's hand went instinctively to the hilt of his sword. His eyes darted to the shadows around them, alert, scanning the darkness. His posture was tense, ready for any movement, any threat.
"I don't know," Vespera replied. "But something's out there. Watching us."
Elyra's heart thudded in her chest, her senses going on high alert. Every fiber of her being screamed that they were being hunted. She could feel it. She could feel the watchful eyes on them, waiting. The silence pressed down on her, suffocating. Even the slightest movement seemed amplified.
Kael's eyes hardened, but he didn't speak. Instead, he moved closer to Elyra, subtly protecting her without a word. But Vespera was already moving. She was more attuned to the forest than any of them, and her eyes darted into the shadows as she spoke again, her voice clipped.
"We should have never come this far. Something's wrong. We're not supposed to be here."
Elyra could feel her heart race in her chest, but it wasn't just fear anymore—it was something else. Something deeper. The forest had taken her dragon. It had silenced the land. And now it was closing in on them.
Just as Vespera spoke, the low, ominous rustle of the underbrush sounded again. Elyra's pulse quickened. She spun, her hand instinctively going to the dagger at her side. The noise was too deliberate, too careful. It wasn't an animal. It was something—or someone—purposefully hunting them. They were not alone.
Elyra's mind spun with the possibilities. Were the rogue dragon riders still out there? Were they closing in on them again? Or was this something else? The forest had already given them more than enough danger, but this felt different. This felt like something was coming for them, something worse than the creatures that had stalked them before.
Kael's eyes flashed to Elyra, and without a word, he motioned for them to move deeper into the woods, away from the clearing. He knew that whatever was out there—whoever was out there—they couldn't stay where they were. They needed to move. But even as they ran, the feeling of being trapped, of being prey, never left them.
In the depths of the forest, surrounded by trees that loomed like silent watchers, Elyra couldn't shake the feeling that their fate had already been sealed. It was too late. They were already part of something much larger than themselves.
The hunt had begun.