Page 11 of Eluvonia
We’re getting away.
We’re actually getting away.
But then Esra trips.
Her cry cuts through the chaos, and I stop short and turn just in time to see her sprawled on the ground, her ankle twisted at an unnatural angle a few feet behind me.
Before I can reach her, a shadow looms overhead. Dragon claws descend from the canopy above in a blur, seizing her fragile body and lifting her into the air in the blink of an eye.
“NO! ESRA!”
My scream tears from my chest as I leap, my fingers brushing empty air where she’d been. She thrashes against the beast’s grip, her terrified cries fading as it ascends. Desperation overtakes me. My bow is in my hands, an arrow nocked in one fluid motion. I fire—once, twice, three times—but the shafts glance off its glimmering scales, useless. Helpless, I drop to my knees, the bow slipping from my grasp. My chest heaves, my vision blurring as the Dragon disappears into the smoke-choked sky.
She’s gone.I failed her.I let her be taken.
A firm grip seizes my shoulder, jerking me back to reality. The sharp tug forces me to twist, my dazed gaze locking onto Leynard. His face is tight with urgency, his breath coming in quick bursts.
“Aeris!” he barks, his voice cutting through the fog in my mind like a blade. His fingers dig into my shoulder, grounding me. I blink rapidly, tears blurring my vision as I gasp, “Ley… Leynard, I—Esra…” The words splinter in my throat, raw and broken.
“We need to move. Where is she?” His gaze darts around the burning chaos, scanning for any sign of her.
My trembling hand rises, pointing weakly toward the darkened sky where the Dragon disappeared. Leynard’s head snaps up, following my gesture. His jaw tightens, and a storm clouds his eyes. For a brief, unguarded moment, his shoulders sag.Then, as if pulled by some inner resolve, he straightens. His mouth presses into a grim line, his shoulders rolling back to reclaim his usual air of steely determination.
He bows his head for a heartbeat, his lips moving soundlessly—a prayer? A promise? When he looks at me again, his gaze is sharp, unyielding. “We can’t stop,” he says, his tone low and steady, a stark contrast to the chaos around us. “Not now. Come on, Aeris.” He grabs my arm, his grip firm but not unkind. “We have to survive this. For her. For everyone.”
His words push through the suffocating haze in my mind, anchoring me to the present. My feet stumble as I try to match his pace, the earth beneath me feeling unsteady, like it might collapse under the weight of my guilt. The blistering heat of the burning cavern presses against my back, a physical reminder of everything I’ve failed to protect. Each breath is a struggle, the air thick with ash and smoke.
“Leynard,” I croak, my voice trembling with the weight of unshed tears. “How did this happen?” My legs falter, and a choked sob escapes me, unbidden. The tears streaming down my face are hot and unrelenting, mingling with the soot on my cheeks. He doesn’t meet my eyes, his own gaze fixed ahead as we weave through the burning wreckage. His jaw works asthough he’s chewing over the right words.
“I don’t know,” he mutters finally, each syllable ground out with barely contained anger. His hand grips the hilt of his sword, knuckles whitening. “I gave the report to your father—warned him about the Dragon sighting. He told me scouts were already on it, said he’d update me. I waited all night, Aeris. All. Night.” His voice cracks, the admission dragging something raw and vulnerable to the surface. He rubs a hand across his face, smearing dirt and sweat over his sharp features. “He never came back.”
I trip over a root, barely catching myself against the rough bark of a tree. My hands tremble as they grip the wood, the coarse texture grounding me for a fleeting moment. “He should have put the clan on alert. He should have sent a party out. He should have done something,” I whisper hoarsely, each word edged with bitterness. Guilt and anger churn within me, colliding violently and leaving a hollow ache in their wake.
Leynard’s silence cuts deeper than any response. He moves ahead, his posture rigid, his steps quick and deliberate. Shadows flicker across his face, the orange glow of the fires highlighting every taut line of frustration and resolve.
A flicker of movement snaps us both to attention. From behind a tree, a male with brown wings folded against his back steps into the path, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. He stands tall and unhurried, his sword resting casually on his shoulder. The edges of his grin curve wickedly, a predator’s expression that promises no mercy.
“Going somewhere?” he drawls, his voice smooth and mocking. His gaze sweeps over us like we’re prey caught in his snare.
Leynard doesn’t hesitate.
His sword flashes into his hand, the motion so fluid it’s almost a blur. He shoves me behind him with a force that leaves no room for argument. “Stay back,” he growls, his voice low and edged with steel. Every line of his body is taut, his stance wide and solid as he prepares to face the threat head-on.
The Dragon male chuckles darkly, the sound rippling through the tense air. “I’d like to see you try,” he sneers before lunging forward, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision.
The clash of steel erupts, the sharp ring echoing through the forest. Sparks fly as their blades meet, each strike reverberating with raw power. Leynard moves with practiced precision, his sword an extension of himself as he parries and counters. But the Dragon male is relentless, his attacks heavy and unyielding, each blow forcing Leynard back step by step. The Dragon male’s eyes gleam with cruel amusement, his lips curling into a grin that dares Leynard to falter.
“Is this all you’ve got?” the male taunts, his voice dripping with mockery as he presses forward. His blade crashes down like a hammer, sending Leynard skidding back, boots kicking up dirt.
Leynard doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he grits his teeth, his jaw tightening in that stubborn, infuriating way of his. “You talk too much,” he mutters, sidestepping a downward slash that carves a jagged scar into the earth.
I press myself against a tree, my nails digging into the bark as I watch the battle unfold. My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that steals the breath from my lungs.
Leynard feints left, then drives his blade forward, the tip finding its mark. The Dragon male’s eyes widen as Leynard’ssword sinks deep into his abdomen. Blood spills, dark and viscous, staining the ground at his feet.
But victory is short-lived. Leynard retracts his sword and stumbles back a few steps before his knees buckle. My stomach lurches when I see him clutching his side, a crimson stain blooming across his tunic, spreading in a slow, merciless tide.
“No!” The word rips from my throat as I rush to his side. Dropping to my knees, I press my hands to the wound, trying in vain to staunch the bleeding. The sticky warmth of his blood seeps through my fingers, and I bite back a sob. “Stay with me,” I plead, my voice trembling. “We can still make it. Just hold on—please!”
