Blood splashed across the ash-colored grass, a head going flying with the chopping of a great axe. It was the head of a dragon hybrid. Countless more died at the hands of men in gold surcoats, the sigil of the red pegasus engraved into their clothing and armor.

  “Push for the town! They can’t stop us from all sides!” The commander said.

  Beside him was a black wolf. Its body was in armor like the commander’s and sat stationarily.

  About a hundred soldiers charged at the last twenty of dragons, blades forward, while they accepted their fate.

  A black burst of flames swirled in front of them. The soldiers halted, circling them while Enne walked out of the fire.

  “Enne?” One of the dragons said.

  “Run when I make an opening,” He grumbled out.

  The soldiers slowly stepped towards them from all angles.

  “Surrender the Wyvernlands to us, or you won’t be the last dragons we kill!” A soldier shouted.

  Enne held out his palm, a raging flame stirring in his hand.

  From afar, the commander saw an enormous blast of black purple fire. The flames spread out, rampaging through the hundreds of soldiers. Screams tore through the air, and the inferno began to calm. His heart lurched, and he grabbed his sword, running towards the aftermath of the blast.

  “C’mon, boy! Time to fight!” He shouted at the wolf.

  The commander and the wolf arrived at the devastation. Purple dregs of fire singed through the grass, the ground scorching with remnants of the flame, and Enne’s purple gaze blaring through the smoke.

  The commander cautiously approached. All of his soldiers were nearly burned to a crisp, their faces unrecognizable, and their armors charred. A surviving soldier was screaming in pain, the flames were spreading around his body like a plague, and every cry grew louder.

  “Please, kill me! It’s too much!” The soldier screamed with a hint of sobbing.

  “You monster!” The commander unsheathed his blade with a metallic hiss.

  The wolf would not proceed any further through the smoke; it whined and whimpered, sensing the danger.

  “Come on, boy! We can’t stop here, we need to avenge our fallen!” The commander said.

  “Avenge your fallen? There’s no avenging them. I damned their souls the moment I saw your flag on our soil.” Enne approached.

  His hand turned scaly, smoke coiling around it.

  “I wanted to make sure there would be nothing left but their ashes. I’ve noticed your humanity is indifferent to us, which means I don’t need to acknowledge my own when I kill a hundred of you.” Enne’s gaze bored into the commander’s.

  “Your kind has been given the chance to prove its humanity years ago. But what did they do?” The commander gripped his sword tighter.

  “Prove our humanity? You want us to lie with our bellies up like dogs? Not a chance.” He continued forward.

  The commander lunged at him, swinging his sword.

  Enne raised his hand, stopping the sweeping motion of his blade. The dark scales on his palm prevented the commander’s weapon from seeping in.

  “You’ll die with the rest of them.” Enne slammed his knee into the commander’s stomach, cracks bursting along his armor.

  The wolf fled upon hearing the pounding impact.

  The commander winced as Enne’s free hand scraped across his face with a strike.

  In retaliation, the commander launched a disorganized attack.

  Enne evaded the slash, then disarmed him, front kicking him in the stomach.

  The commander staggered away, stripped of his weapon, while Enne tossed it.

  Dark scales padded both of his fists. He bolted forward, opening one of his palms—flames encircling it.

  A wall of freezing ice formed, halting Enne's attack on the commander.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “That’s enough!” A voice called from behind.

  As he turned, there was another hybrid, one he recognized.

  Cyvessa walked through the smoky area, her sky-blue eyes glaring against Enne’s purple.

  “Must it be so difficult for you to show even the slightest amount of restraint?” She said.

  “I will not take pity from a dragon! I demand that you slit my throat at once!” The commander shouted.

  “Quiet,” Cyvessa said, her gaze was icy towards him.

  She restrained the commander with ropes, bringing him to his feet.

  “I will warn that if I don’t return, more of us will be back!” The commander said.

  “I’m already aware of that. Your silence would be very appreciated.” Cyvessa said.

  “Enne, we have much to talk about. And I’m sure you have plenty to tell me regarding those horns, don’t you?” She asked.

  Cyvessa’s clothes were tattered. She wore a baggy cloak, pants with scarred material, and a large shirt with a stretched neckline. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few sky-blue strands framing her face. Beneath her eyes were dark circles, and at her hip was a longsword sheathed in a scabbard.

  “Depends on what you ask. Good news is that I found him, just like you asked.” He walks out of the smoke with Cyvessa.

  She looked around at the burned corpses of the soldiers, then back at Enne.

  “Why?” She asked.

  “I didn’t think you’d want to see any more of us dead.” He answered.

  Cyvessa let out a shaky exhale, then turned towards the commander.

  “Walk!” She pushed him along, making him walk in front of them through the lands.

  “Damned dragon,” he muttered.

  “Okay, then what’s the bad news? He’s clearly not here with you,” Cyvessa lightly furrowed her brows, rubbing her eyes.

  “He’s not ready,” Enne said.

  “What do you mean he’s not ready?” Cyvessa said.

  “If you looked at him yourself, you’d know,” Enne said.

  “It doesn’t matter if he’s ready or not. They need to see that Fryvnal’s lineage is not over. Because that’s what the other hybrids think, I can see it in their eyes—they think there is no hope for us without her. For us to rebuild our home, we need to give the people something to believe in. We need them to believe that everything we’re going through is worth it.” Cyvessa said.

  “There’ll never be hope for you dragons. You’ll all die as she did.” The commander said.

  The air was filled with silence.

  The hair on the commander’s skin stood up.

  Cyvessa drew her sword on him, placing the blade against his shoulder.

  “Turn.”

  The commander turned around, watching Cyvessa’s icy glare. She swiftly chopped his head off, blood sloshing out of his neck while his body collapsed. The commander’s head plopped into the grass, staining it with blood.

  “Should’ve done that sooner. Whether he’s dead or alive, it doesn’t change the fact that more will come anyway.” Enne shot a small dart of fire at his body, burning up the corpse.

  “ I know, it’s just that he’d gotten on my final nerve. Because of their sudden attack, we have to bury more of our kind's bodies. I’d hoped to have gotten some kind of information out of him.” She sheathed her sword.

  “Getting information out of him? I’m sure he’d rather burn slow. They won’t stop until we’re all dead, that’s the bottom line.” Enne stopped walking.

  “I know. Until next time, then,” she continued walking, leaving Enne behind.

  He turned and walked in the opposite direction.

  Now there was only silence, where battle once was. He walked through the piles of corpses of his kin, staring at one body, then another. The pile seemed to have no end, and every few feet, he would try to pull his gaze away.

  While ascending the hills, the view only burned into his mind with a throbbing headache.

  The smell of blood was in the wind as much as it was shed on the ground.