Inside the shed, Thomas and Rodvar found themselves surrounded by summoned creatures after the barn's walls gave way. He used up most of his shields and stocked spells, only having enough for one more cast. Rodvar fought valiantly against the invaders, but he was already out of breath, evidence of his lack of training after his retirement. His arms were still strong enough to swing his hammer for devastating blows, but he had less stamina than he was when he was an active adventurer.

  And in front of them were three Pale Wraiths, hissing at them while maintaining the portals that summoned these creatures. They were taunting them, waiting for them to make a costly mistake. They were battered, out of breath, and for Thomas, out of spell stocks.

  "Damn it," said Thomas. "Come on, Henri. We need you!"

  One of the mages shot a dark fire at him, forcing him to use the last of his barrier stocks. It promptly shattered upon contact with the dark fire. His reserves were spent.

  “I’m out of stock,” said Thomas, sighing. “This is it, huh?”

  “Not a bad way to go, honestly,” said Rodvar. A cut above his head, caused by one of the creatures attacking him, had trickled down to his eyes, turning it red. Thomas was out of breath despite not swinging a heavy hammer, the result of burning through his own reserves beyond what he was trained for. It also affected his physical integrity. He felt his knees feeling weak, as if he had been running for hours without stopping. His consciousness was fading in and out.

  These were all the tell-tale signs that he started to tap into his lifeforce to fuel his spells. Any stocked spells he cast would damage his body, and eventually, death. Not that he needed to worry about it, given his empty stock.

  The chill and the foreboding feeling he had been feeling for a while did not help situation either. This invasion was more than just Pale Wraiths and Fel’uvens. There was something more than dangerous than them. Thomas also started to notice the sky darkening despite it being summer afternoon.

  This distraction was taken advantage by one of the creatures the Pale Wraiths summoned, which no longer resembled the featureless creatures they summoned earlier. This one was monstrous and letting an otherworldly roar, and did not look featureless, not with all the spikes and the horns adorning its body. This was the real monster, not the featureless creatures that happened to have sharp claws.

  It lunged towards Thomas, who immediately realized his mistake and reflexively attempting to protect himself with his arms. He closed his eyes, thinking that it was it. Then he heard a grunt and the feeling of someone close by. He opened his eyes.

  Rodvar stood in front of him, wrestling the creature with his stout body. The creature was as big as a bear, but the dwarf managed to stop it.

  “Get out of the way, lad!” exclaimed the dwarf. “I can't hold it for long!”

  Thomas did so but immediately twist his ankle when he attempted to do so. His legs were so weak from over-exertion his body used all its strength just to keep him standing. Only his adrenaline pumping and his desire for survival kept him going. He crawled out of the way but was soon met with a harrowing sight.

  Rodvar, was stabbed by one of the monster’s claws. It pierced through his chest, impaling and lifting him off his feet.

  “No!” cried Thomas in anguish. This caused him to lose all his persistence, replaced by terror, anger, and helplessness. All of this was replaced by fear as the monster unceremoniously threw the dwarf’s limp body away and set its eyes upon Thomas.

  This time, Thomas knew he was done for. No magick reserves, no magick stocks, and no one to have his back. Sanatasi was away, and Henrietta stayed asleep. Part of him wanted to yell at her for not doing anything despite being a dragon, until he remembered that she was protecting him first and fell into a coma as a result.

  So, unable to make peace with all these, he yelled at the monster in anger, taunting it to finish him already. The monster obliged, lunging at Thomas.

  Right at that moment, Henrietta’s eyes shot open. She immediately inhaled and exhaled, letting out a fresh burst of fire that incinerated the monster right in front of her, along with the featureless creatures behind it and some Pale Wraiths who were unfortunate enough to be caught behind it. Thomas was close enough to feel the intensity of the fire, even if he was at a safe distance.

  The shock caused by her surprising fire stunned everyone enough to cause them to stop what they were doing and beheld a new player in the skirmish. The slumbering dragon rose up, yawning when she did so.

  “Rude awakening? What an understatement,” said the dragon. “And not a moment too soon.”

  She looked around the shed, assessing the situation. Rodvar, bloodied and heavily, possibly fatally, injured, managed to crawl to safety just in time to see Henrietta arising from slumber. He managed a bloodied smile. Thomas, on the other side, was battered and terrified, and seemed close to fainting.

  "Get to Rodvar," she said. "Let me handle this."

  Thomas obliged with a nod. He scampered towards the dying dwarf. He softly whispered into his eyes, telling him it was okay as his body went limp. It was such a sudden, surprising death, one that Thomas did not have time to process. Neither did Henrietta.

  “Zulkiris, what’s going on?” asked Henrietta. “You said it won’t take a while.”

  “Your brain processes everything almost instantly,” said Zulkiris. “But your body isn't. Time runs differently in your subconscious."

  “I should’ve been there before this whole situation got out of hand.”

  "You saved your brother. Focus on that."

  Henrietta growled in anger, but the goddess was right. There was nothing she could to do save Rodvar, but now that she was here, she could make up for it by saving the day with her newfound abilities.

  She looked at Thomas, giving him an assuring smile.

  “Leave this to me now, dear brother.”

  That voice should’ve send chills down Thomas’s spine, but somehow, it wasn’t the feeling he had when she said it with such a husky, ragged voice. It was the feeling of hope, and awe. All he could do was nod, believing that his sister would turn the situation around.

  And to no one’s surprise, she did.

  Sanatasi got to where the shed was just in time to witness a fire breath and an explosion that decimated the shed and the surrounding area. It immediately turned the dreary, cold area into one filled with an almost unbearable heat. It was as if he was right beside a furnace, peering right into the blazing inferno. Except it wasn’t a furnace fire. This was a dragon’s fire.

  And it was filled with familiar strength and force.

  “Henrietta,” he declared, just as he saw what looked like a fire-free zone right around the pink-scaled dragon, whose scales were darkened by the fire raging around her. Her opponents, the Pale Wraiths and their Fel’uven allies, attempted to fight back against the raging fire, but they couldn’t summon anything fast enough before they were incinerated by the fire, which flared to life and behaved unnaturally, as if they were being controlled by a mage.

  He arrived just as one battle ended, and the other started.

  From the direction of the square, an encroaching darkness crept through the alleyways and the buildings, shrouding them in unnatural shadow. It reached the shed, but it couldn’t get through Henrietta’s fire, providing protection for everyone within it. Sanatasi felt a sense of dread coming from the darkness, as if it was going to consume him. He desperately tried to get through the fire, finally resorting to risking his feathers by jumping through the fire wall.

  To no one’s surprise, the fire burned his feathers, causing him to roll on the floor trying to put them out. Fortunately, he managed to before his clothes were burned out. Unfortunately, he found himself face-to-face with an angry dragon, whose nostrils were flaring and smoking and her slit pupils narrowed to a line. He did not need to ask why she reacted that way; his appearance was reason enough.

  ““D-don’t be hasty, now, okay? I’m not here as an enemy," said a worried Sanatasi.

  “This is not the time, Henrietta,” said Zulkiris, who could not be heard by the Dromedian. “This magick will consume everything unless you stop it. Your fire is the only sure way to defeat it.”

  Henrietta assessed the growing darkness. "Heat is being absorbed by the darkness. My own fire breath can't break through it."

  "Get to the lich," said Sanatasi, thinking that she was talking to him. "He's in the square. He's the cause."

  Sanatasi had no reason to lie about it, so he hoped the dragon understood. Henrietta understood, despite her reluctance. Even so, finding direction in such a thick darkness proved to be difficult. It reminded her of the darkness that was eating her from within, except this one was different. The fire she created was the only warmth she could use. This was different from purging an affliction. The darkness in the real world was cold and oppressive, almost as if she was stepping into a different world altogether.

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  “No other way but to burn my way to the square,” said Henrietta. “Thomas, you know the way. Point me towards the right direction.”

  “Henri, wait,” said Thomas, teary-eyed. “It’s Rodvar. He’s….”

  Henrietta turned her attention to the dwarf, who laid motionless with his hands on top of his chest, put there by Thomas. Thomas managed to comfort Rodvar as he died, believing that they could win the day.

  Saddened, Henrietta was even more determined to win the day for the dwarf. They may not know each other for long, but in the short time they interacted, he had provided her the means to break one of the curses he suffered and gave her back her fire, which turned out to be a gift from the goddess. His words saved her, and she could not be more grateful for that.

  “We’ll win the day for him,” said Henrietta, comforting Thomas.

  Thomas nodded. “Yes. For Rodvar.”

  He immediately climbed Henrietta’s back, feeling her ridged scales. Without any saddles, it was not a comfortable ride, especially not when he was wearing fabric pants instead of riding leather pants. He had no choice but to endure the discomfort.

  “Zulkiris,” said Henrietta. “Will my fire breath enough to burn the darkness?"

  “It won’t be as effective, but it will be sufficient," said Zulkiris. "Just don't try anything rash before you know you will win."

  Henrietta nodded, confusing Thomas. He could only hear whispers from the other person, so he was convinced that Henrietta wasn’t talking to herself. It was still disconcerting.

  Henrietta inhaled and held her breath, giving time for the inhaled air to be combusted into an explosive breath. When she felt her lungs burning, she exhaled, letting out a burst of fire that crept along the corridors and the alleyways of the darkened town. Once again, the way the fire spread was unnatural. The only explanation was that a fire mage was casting a fire spell. However, this was not a fire mage. This was a human cursed into dragon, who woke from her month-long slumber already capable of manipulating fire freely. This fact further baffled Thomas.

  His bafflement turned into an alert when he felt the overwhelming presence of a powerful mage, shocking him. He turned his head towards the direction of the square to indicate this shock.

  “Careful, Henri!” he warned. “Someone dangerous is at the square. That person’s the source of all these darkness!”

  The person in question, the lich, was in the middle of a battle with Shana, whose chaos magick managed to keep her on edge despite the darkness around her. It was, however, a chaotic mess, with unnatural constructs that were hard to describe turned the square into a fantastical, twisted landscape permanently. Her magick was not as strong as her opponent, and she was losing their short battle.

  He then turned his attention away from the exhausted sionnach towards a different source of magick that he prioritized over the faerie’s. He was disappointed by the faerie’s refusal to let loose, which was an effort in itself. He wanted to see how a chaos magick could be wielded by a chaos-aligned being, but alas, he did not get the chance to.

  This source, though, was far more interesting, but also concerning. His ritual was intended to turn the area into a landscape perfect for an attack from the creatures within the Vyrnian realm. It was undoubtedly an overwhelming darkness that could snuff out any magick, even light. In his knowledge, no one had enough power to create a light strong enough to penetrate the darkness, one that was also enhanced by the miasma in the bay.

  The fire that unnaturally crept all over the town’s alleys made him change his mind immediately. That concern soon turned to dread when he saw who was casting the fire spell.

  “That pink dragon…I thought the Pale Wraiths have taken care of her,” said the lich. “What’s going on?”

  He heard someone chuckling. He turned to that person. It was the sionnach he had been facing earlier.

  “Oh, lich,” she said. “You’re na?ve to think she’s going to be so easily dispatched. She survived situations that should’ve killed her. Now, she gains the power to take it all back. You might as well be one of her conquests.”

  “Hmm…perhaps chaos has started to addle your mind. What’s a dragon fire against—”

  He got his answer almost immediately, in the form of a fiery explosion that happened right under him. Henrietta had caught sight of the lich the moment the darkness dispersed, and she did not hesitate to induce an explosion facilitated by her own fire. This, unfortunately, happened close to Shana, who was thrown away by the force of the explosion. She managed to protect herself, but it only served to aggravate her injuries.

  “Bottom’s ass!” she swore. “I'm standing here!”

  Alas, her words could not be heard by Henrietta, who focused her efforts in fighting the lich.

  “You got him!” cried Thomas.

  “No,” said Zulkiris. “It wasn’t enough. Look.”

  True to her words, the lich was still alive, though the explosion did cause some damage. His skin was lightly burned by the explosion, revealing a skeletal form underneath. His bright, blue eyes shone brightly, glaring at the dragon.

  “Ah. I see,” said the lich with a deeply unsettling tone. “So, this is what that faerie meant. But if you think that explosion alone is enough to kill me, you are gravely mistaken!”

  The lich immediately focused his efforts on Henrietta. He used the darkness around him as weapon in the form of tendrils. Henrietta attempted to avoid them, but found that her body was sluggish and hard to move in, forcing her to use her fire to counter them. Her ability to control fire she breathed out was instrumental in her defense.

  She immediately felt pain from one of her hind legs. It was the same leg that was pierced by the harpoon, still bandaged and weak from the damage it sustained. It started to bleed again. The limited mobility and the pain distracted her, causing one of the tendrils to snatch her throat. She retaliated by grabbing the surprisingly solid tendril and produced fire from her claws, breaking it.

  The lich’s attack was relentless, but never overwhelming. Henrietta’s training in her subconscious was fruitful to a certain degree as she bent and control the fire around her while also inducing explosions on points the lich would not expect, such as a nearby wall, the misshapen tree behind him, and even the floor. Each explosions damaged the lich considerably.

  “Good,” said Zulkiris. “You understand my gift’s true property. Keep at it, Henrietta! He’s weakening!”

  Henrietta, on her part, only understood that she could induce explosions on solid surfaces once it was heated enough, but not its fundamental understanding. She only knew that it was damaging and worked as a surprise attack, not because of the gift’s ability to convert latent heat energy into explosions.

  The explosions she induced would not be sustainable for a mage, nor was it sustainable for her still weak physical body. After forcing the explosions several times, she realized that she needed to end it before she became too weak. She breathed a powerful stream of fire towards the lich, who managed to shield himself, only to realize too late that the fire was the preparation for a big explosion, one that she induced by slamming her foreclaws to the ground.

  The entirety of the square started to glow, prompting Shana to run as fast as she could before she could be caught by the resulting explosion. The lich cast a barrier, one coated in darkness, to stave of the explosion. Unfortunately for him, Thomas noticed this. He realized that this was the best opportunity to learn what his friend taught him. Knowing that it was a risk he must take, Thomas tapped into what remained of his magick reserves and held out his hands.

  The barrier the lich used immediately failed, but its failure resulted in Thomas suffering a concussive blast caused by the barrier’s potency. He was thrown off Henrietta’s back, just as one of the biggest explosions ever witnessed by that town happened. The blast started with a blinding flash of light, before it was followed by a loud noise caused by the explosion, then a powerful force that threw Henrietta, Thomas, and onlookers away.

  Some of the buildings were destroyed by the explosion. It even reached the shed area, where Sanatasi was. He was promptly blown away by the force of the explosion, but he managed to hold his ground by grabbing a nearby pillar. The darkness around him was dispersed almost immediately.

  Yet what truly caught his attention and awe was the cloud that resulted from the explosion. It was shaped like a mushroom, and it was brightly lit for a moment before the light faded. The rumbling noise was very concerning, and the destruction that followed it showed that it was something more than just a typical explosive spell.

  Near ground zero of the explosion, Henrietta shielded Thomas from the explosion after she managed to hold onto something solid and planted to the ground. Thomas was still recovering from his daring attempt and would be thrown away by the force of the explosion if it wasn’t for Henrietta’s protection. On her part, Henrietta assumed that he was thrown off her back by the explosion, not from the feedback caused by his dispel.

  The destruction caused by this stunt was enough to level the area surrounding a crater that was once the town square. The pristine white buildings, most of which were abandoned, were leveled by the force of the explosion, while some remained partially intact.

  The explosion threw out dust clouds that obscured the area, not enabling Henrietta to confirm whether her attempt killed the lich or not. She took the moment to reflect on her excessive attempt, one that exerted great pressure on her barely healed body. One of her hind legs discomforted her greatly. Standing up was an effort on its own.

  “I warned you not to push yourself too hard,” said Zulkiris. “Your body—”

  “Is still healing. Yes, I’m aware of it,” said Henrietta. “But he’s dead, right? Nothing is going to survive that explosion.”

  “You will be surprised by how resilient some creatures can be,” said Zulkiris. “Those…are what…monsters….”

  Zulkiris’s words were fragmented and hard to understand. Henrietta felt her presence fading away, causing her to panic.

  “Zulkiris!” she called.

  “Don’t…worry…. It’s…happen,” she said, amidst fragmented words. “You…have…one….”

  “He’s not dead yet, Henrietta!”

  Shana’s warning rang in the princess-turned-dragon’s ears. She turned her gaze towards the square and gasped in surprise.

  As the dust cloud cleared, a lone figure stood menacingly in the epicenter of the explosion. The lich, most of his tattered clothing gone, was reduced to a skeleton, but it was clear that he was still alive. The hollow sockets of his skeleton glowed bright blue, indicating life.

  “Your attempt was extraordinary,” said the lich. “I have witnessed and mastered spells that can change the landscape, but this is beyond any fire spells known to man. Or perhaps…it’s never intended to be cast by man.”

  The lich held out his bony hands, as if preparing to cast a spell. Henrietta made an intimidating gesture, trying to hide her exhaustion. Shana was crawling nearby, still disoriented from being thrown by the explosion, but was not too hurt by it. Yet, like Henrietta, she was out of magick reserves, which would make using chaos magick a great risk.

  “Damn it,” said the sionnach, thinking that the destructive fire spell failed miserably.

  There was a tense silence that filled the area, with only the noise of fire burning debris and Henrietta commanding the fire the only thing that happened after the tension. Then, several things happened.

  The lich retracted his hands and stared at it as it slowly crumbled to dust. There was no way to tell if the lich looked at it wide-eyed or not if one could only judge the lack of expression on his skeletal figure. Rather, his words indicated his emotions.

  “Defeated by a dragon,” said the lich. “Not a bad way to go. I have you to thank for giving me the greatest show in three hundred years. Thus, as a sign of respect, I shall give you a warning.”

  The lich’s body crumbled rapidly, until his skull remained.

  “The Tarinian is more than what I am,” warned the lich. “This effort is but a scratch against his terror.”

  “The Tarinian?” asked Henrietta. “From the dukedom of Tarin?”

  “Beware of Vyrnian magick. Whatever you know of it…is nothing but the surface of a vast ocean. Even I wouldn’t dare lose my sanity for it. Only a madman like the Tarinian is willing to sell his soul to the demons. Beware…the madman….”

  The lich crumbled to dust before he was blown by a rising wind that also cleared the sky. The encroaching darkness faded away almost immediately. The survivors of the battle tried to make sense of the destruction that was caused by the aftermath, each were still in disbelief that the darkness and the massive explosion happened.

  And nearby, the dragon and her human brother could only contemplate on what the lich said, wondering if their mysterious enemy was truly beyond anything they had ever faced. If the lich himself seemed concerned, then whoever the Tarinian was, he would not be an easy enemy.

  But for now, all they could do was revel in the hard-fought victory.