Page 18 of Hex and the Dragon
"I can give you the strength to undo every mistake," the Chronicle continued. "The power to rewrite that tragic day, to save those children, to become the hero you always wanted to be."
Ivy felt Dorian's hand tighten on hers as the temptation hit him with surgical precision. She could see the conflict in his amber eyes, the desperate desire to accept an offer that would erase his guilt and transform his greatest failure into triumph.
"Don't listen to it," she said urgently. "Those children's deaths were tragic, but they were real. They mattered because they were real. Erasing them doesn't honor their memory—it dishonors it."
"But I could save them," Dorian said, his voice rough with barely controlled emotion. "I could make it so they never died in the first place."
"By rewriting reality to serve your guilt," Ivy countered. "By turning their real lives and real deaths into props in a story designed to make you feel better."
The Chronicle's displeasure pulsed through the shadows, and the temperature dropped another ten degrees. The shadow-figures began to move closer, their forms becoming more solid and threatening as the fragment's patience wore thin.
"Enough debate," the Chronicle said with cold authority. "You will accept my gifts willingly, or I will take what I need by force."
The attack came from three directions simultaneously. Shadow-figures lunged toward Ivy and Dorian while others moved to cut off the rest of the group's escape routes. But before any of them could reach their targets, Dorian's dragon nature finally overwhelmed his human restraint.
Golden fire erupted from his skin like a second sunrise, filling the town hall with blazing light that burned away the shadow-figures like mist before a hurricane. But the flames were different from his usual careful control—wilder, more primal, carrying the raw fury of a dragon whose territory had been threatened.
"Dorian!" Ivy called out, reaching toward him despite the heat that made her skin tingle. "You're losing yourself to the dragon! Stay human!"
But he was already shifting, his human form wavering as ancient instincts took over. Through their bond, Ivy felt his struggle to maintain conscious control while the Chronicle's presence triggered every protective instinct his species possessed.
"Can't hold it," he said through gritted teeth, his voice carrying harmonics that belonged to something far larger than human vocal cords. "Too much threat, too much danger to you?—"
"Then don't hold it," Ivy said with sudden inspiration. "Trust yourself. Trust that your dragon nature wants to protect, not destroy."
She stepped closer to him, ignoring the heat that made her clothes smoke and her hair crisp. When she placed her hands on his face, her bibliomantic abilities flared to life, but not in the reality-warping way the Chronicle wanted. Instead, her magic became a bridge, helping Dorian find the balance between human consciousness and dragon power.
"You're not the same person you were in Portland," she said intently, her magic flowing through her words to help him remember who he'd chosen to become. "You've learned control, learned to channel your fire constructively. Trust that growth."
Dorian's eyes met hers, and she saw the moment when he found his balance—not through suppressing his dragon nature, but through integrating it with his human values. The golden fire around him became more controlled, more purposeful, burning away the Chronicle's influence without threatening the people he cared about.
"Better?" Ivy asked, her hands still cupping his face despite the residual heat.
"Better," Dorian confirmed, his voice steady despite the way his amber eyes still flickered with dragon fire. "Thank you."
"Thank you," Ivy replied, realizing that her own bibliomantic abilities felt more stable now, more connected to her human values rather than the Chronicle's alien desires. "I think we help each other stay grounded."
The moment of connection was interrupted by Leo's urgent voice: "The shadows are regrouping outside. Whatever you two just did, it made them angry."
Through the windows, Ivy could see more shadow-figures gathering in the streets, their forms more solid and threatening than before. The Chronicle was done with subtle seduction—it was preparing for direct assault.
"We need to get back to the library," Nico said with grim determination. "If the Chronicle is making its final push, the safest place is near the source of its power. Paradoxical, but true—the closer we are to the original artifact, the more we can influence what it does."
"The library's surrounded," Cade pointed out. "How do we get there without being overwhelmed by shadow-figures?"
"Dragon fire and bibliomancy," Ivy said with sudden understanding. "Dorian's flames can burn through their manifestations, and my magic can create a pathway that reality recognizes as valid."
"A fighting retreat," Leo said with approval. "I like it. Everyone stays together, no one engages the shadows unless absolutely necessary, and we get to the library as fast as possible."
They prepared for the dash through shadow-infested streets, knowing that their next few minutes would determine whether Mistwhisper Falls survived the Chronicle's assault or joined the growing list of communities lost to perfect dreams.
As they approached the town hall's front doors, Ivy felt Dorian's hand find hers again, his touch warm with dragon fire and steady with the kind of resolve that came from choosing to fight rather than surrender.
"Together?" he asked, echoing the question he'd posed during their first magical working.
"Together," Ivy confirmed, her bibliomantic abilities already beginning to weave reality around them like armor made of words and will.
The shadows outside the door seemed to sense their approach, gathering with predatory anticipation. But Ivy and Dorian were no longer the same uncertain researchers who'd first opened the Chronicle together. They'd found their balance, their partnership, their shared commitment to protecting what was real rather than accepting what was perfect.
