Lavender approached the dragon's wound with her hands shaking.

  The oily darkness pulsed in the fading light, spreading across torn scales in waves that seemed almost deliberate. Up close, the smell hit her. Copper and rot and something chemical, something that burned the back of her throat.

  "What do I do?"

  Touch it. Zemmal's voice had gone quiet, exhaustion bleeding through the telepathic link. Let your fire speak to it. See what it tells you.

  "Fire doesn't speak."

  Don’t be dense; you are not stupid. Yours does. You simply haven't learned to listen.

  Lavender knelt in the bloodied snow. Brute pressed against her back, a warm presence that steadied her nerves. The dragon's flank rose and fell with shallow breaths. Each exhale rattled with fluid.

  She reached out.

  Her fingers brushed the edge of the wound.

  The world inverted.

  Lavender gasped as something pulled her forward, through skin and scale and muscle, into a space that existed only in the mind. She stood in darkness. Total darkness, without direction or dimension. The only light came from her own hands, where fire flickered between her fingers.

  And before her, the corruption.

  It stretched across the void like a stain, tendrils reaching outward in all directions. Where it touched, it consumed. The dragon's essence, golden and ancient, retreated before it. Lavender could see the pattern: the darkness spreading, the light diminishing, the slow inevitable consumption.

  This is what kills me. Zemmal's voice echoed through space. This is what your Authority has learned to craft.

  "What is it?"

  Anti-magic. Null-fire. A weapon designed to devour everything magic that it touches.

  The corruption pulsed. A tendril swung toward her, and Lavender recoiled. But before it could reach her, her fire flared. The light in her hands blazed white-hot, and the tendril shrank back.

  Your fire resists it. Your fire burns hotter than the darkness can consume.

  "That doesn't mean I can heal you."

  No. But it means you might be able to buy me time. Slow the spread. Give me the chance to reach my mother, who can burn it away entirely.

  The vision shattered.

  Lavender gasped and fell backward, landing hard in the snow. Her hands still trembled. The afterimage of the corruption swam in her vision, tendrils reaching, consuming. Endless.

  Brute was there, pressing his face against hers, his breath warm on her cheek.

  "I saw it," she managed. "I saw what it was doing to you."

  Yes. Zemmal's golden eyes fixed on her. The weariness in them had deepened. Now you understand what I ask. Not healing. Containment. Hold back the darkness long enough for me to reach the one who can truly burn it away.

  "Your mother."

  She IS the only other individual I have mentioned.

  Lavender sat up slowly, ignoring his sarcasm. The cold bit through her damp clothes, but she barely registered it. Her mind was still caught in the vision, in the scope of what she'd witnessed. The corruption ran deeper than any wound. A weapon designed to kill creatures of magic. Designed to unmake everything that burned with power.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Designed to unmake her.

  "Where is she? Your mother."

  Far. Deep in the mountains. Several days of travel, if I were healthy and able to fly. Zemmal's head sank toward the stone. In my current state, I cannot walk for more than a few hours at a time. The journey will be... arduous.

  "And if I help you, if I slow the corruption, what do I get?"

  The dragon's mouth curved. You ask for payment. Good. I respect that.

  "I'm not doing this for respect."

  No. You're doing it because you have no choice. The Authority knows you're here now. They tracked their soldiers to this ridge. More will come. You cannot go back to your hole in the Barrens and pretend nothing has changed.

  Lavender's stomach dropped. She hadn't thought about that. The soldiers were dead, but they'd had communications. They'd reported the dragon, the magic user, the location. More patrols would follow. Her hut, her traplines, her entire life had just become a crime scene.

  Help me, Zemmal said, and I will take you to my mother. She will teach you what I cannot. Control. Purpose. How to wield your magic without destroying yourself.

  "And if she can't help me?"

  She can. The certainty in his voice was absolute. She waited for you. She has watched you since before you were born.

  "That's not possible."

  Many things that should not be possible are nonetheless true. Dragons. Magic. The fact that you survived your own awakening without burning yourself to ash. Zemmal's eyes held hers. My mother sees far. She saw you. And she has been waiting.

  Lavender shivered. The words carried weight, a pressure that settled into her bones. She thought of Brute, arriving at her father's grave with a rabbit in his jaws. She thought of the dreams she'd been having, dreams of fire and gold and something watching from beyond the edge of sight.

  "Who is she? Your mother…what is she?"

  Old. Older than dragons. Older than this world can claim for itself. Zemmal's voice went distant. She is kind and cruel in equal measure. She is the end of all things and the beginning of new ones. She is feared by those who know her name and loved by those who truly understand her.

  The words obscured more than they revealed, wrapping truth in layers of careful evasion.

  Lavender looked at the dead soldiers. At the blood cooling in the snow. At the dog who pressed against her side and watched the dragon with eyes that held secrets she couldn't read.

  She had no home left. No life to return to. The Authority would hunt her until they found her. The magic in her chest would burn hotter and hotter until it consumed her from within.

  This dragon, this dying creature who spoke in riddles and killed soldiers with casual efficiency, was offering her a chance. A path forward. A possibility that didn’t exist an hour ago.

  "If I agree," she said slowly, "there are rules."

  Zemmal's eyes sharpened. Rules.

  "You don't read my mind without permission. You don't kill unless we're in immediate danger. And you teach me, actually teach me, not just give me cryptic hints and hope I figure it out."

  Fine. If that’s what you insist upon… A hint of approval colored his voice. I accept. Though I will add one of my own.*

  "What?

  You’re going to work on your manners. The dragon's head lifted slightly. You will address me with respect. You will not shout, curse, or treat me as a beast to be commanded. I am old, little flame. Older than your Authority, older than the ruin they made of this world. I have earned courtesy.

  "And if I forget?"

  I will remind you. The smile that crossed his features held teeth. Dragons have long memories and longer patience. But we do not tolerate disrespect.

  Lavender considered. It was a small thing to ask, given what she was receiving in return. "Alright. I'll be polite."

  Then we have a bargain. Zemmal's voice carried something like relief. Help me stand. We need to move before more of your Authority arrives.

  Lavender rose, brushing snow from her trousers. The fire in her chest had settled into a low burn, still present but no longer demanding. It knew, somehow, that she'd made a choice. That she'd committed to a path.

  "Can you walk at all?"

  Slowly. Most likely with frequent rest. The dragon shifted, bracing his forelegs beneath him. Muscles bunched under iridescent scales. We travel at night when possible. Avoid the main paths. Stay to the deep wilderness.

  "I know how to avoid Authority patrols."

  Good. Then you may prove useful after all.

  Zemmal rose.

  The effort cost him. His wounded leg dragged, the oily darkness pulsing with each step. But he stood, wings folded tight against his back, head high despite the pain.

  He was larger standing up. Lavender hadn't fully appreciated his size while he lay among the boulders. His shoulder reached well above her head. His tail stretched out behind him, a counterbalance of muscle and scale.

  Come, little flame. He turned toward the deeper mountains. We have a long journey ahead. And the darkness in my flesh does not rest.

  Lavender gathered her pack, checked her knife, and fell into step beside the dragon.

  Brute walked between them, his warmth a bridge between human and ancient.

  The sun dropped below the horizon. Stars emerged, cold and distant.

  They walked into the dark.

  Thank you for reading my story. I spent a long time working on it and am glad I get to share it with others. Not your speed though? Check out another cool author below to give a try!