Chapter Nineteen #2
He was a disgrace.
He could not bear to meet their eyes with empty hands and hollow victories. So he would find the dragons. He would bring them back as proof, of purpose, of redemption.
He would give them something to believe in again.
Or he would not return at all.
He remained where he sat, watching as Dawn continued to weave the final threads of her glamour.
At last, she declared it complete. He didn’t acknowledge the quiet sorrow that lingered in her eyes as she allowed her true face to fade, replacing it with that of a wyverian woman.
Her features shifted—sharper, more angular, her form growing taller, more willowy, like the women of his own kin.
Her clothing transformed too, black and austere, draped in the familiar style of his homeland.
It should have offered him some sense of comfort, some illusion of familiarity.
And yet, as always, her transformation unsettled him.
Each time she cloaked herself in someone else’s skin, he felt the same quiet ache, the urge to strip the glamour away and see her again.
Her real face. Her sharp, knowing stare that laid him bare with every glance.
Those purple eyes that spoke before her lips ever did.
That mouth, so often armed with truth, with barbed honesty, now hidden behind a stranger’s guise.
‘Let’s go,’ she said. Even her voice had altered, lilting and refined, yet it grated against him like sand in a wound.
He stiffened at the sound, foreign and cold.
‘You’ll get used to it,’ she added, her tone clipped.
Without a word, Kai followed her as they stepped once more into the phoenixian desert, a land less perilous than the shifting sands of the Desert Kingdom, but vast nonetheless. Endless and exhausting.
He muttered beneath his breath, barely loud enough for her to hear, ‘I don’t think I ever will.’
…
‘It’s this way.’
‘I swear, I will turn that thick skull of yours into stone!’ Dawn snapped, hands firmly planted on her hips, her tone sharp enough to flay skin. ‘I know my directions.’
‘Clearly you don’t,’ Kai replied, not sparing her a glance as he strode forward with infuriating confidence.
The jagged silhouette of a rocky mountain loomed to their left, one Kai distinctly remembered as a marker near the path to Kairus.
Dawn, naturally, insisted they should head in the opposite direction, skirting around the far side of the range instead.
‘I’ve studied the terrains on maps with my brother for years. ’
‘We’re going to get lost,’ she warned. ‘A stupid map doesn’t make you an expert.’
‘Wyverians do not get lost.’
Dawn rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall from her head. ‘Of course they don’t. Let me guess. Wyverians are perfect, aren’t they? Never get lost, never lose a battle, never lose an argument… and probably all possess cocks the size of their egos.’
Kai gave a short, amused snort. ‘Not entirely wrong.’ He cast her a sideways look, a devilish grin tugging at his lips. ‘You seem strangely preoccupied with my anatomy, witch.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘I do entertain frequent fantasies about casting a hex on it.’
Kai opened his mouth for a retort, but the sound that tore through the air silenced them both—a roar, ancient and thunderous, that reverberated through the stone beneath their feet. Without another word, he rushed to the edge of the mountain path and halted.
There, poised at the cliff’s lip, stood a dragon, its wings unfurled like banners of flame, eyes gleaming with wary intelligence.
It launched into the air with a single sweep, soaring high above them in a graceful arc before descending, talons striking earth in a cloud of dust. The beast’s head turned towards them, maw parting in a silent, tooth-filled warning.
‘Kai…’
Dawn’s voice, taut with unease, drifted behind him like a breeze warning of an incoming storm.
But Kai paid it no heed. He moved forward, deliberate and unshaken, extending his hand with the confidence of someone who understood danger and walked willingly towards it.
The dragon sniffed the air, nostrils flaring as it caught the scent of wyverian blood.
A deep-throated roar rippled through the stillness, but the beast did not strike.
Instead, its crimson gaze locked with Kai’s.
A small, triumphant smile curved his lips as his palm met the scaled ridges of its snout, armoured and ancient, hot beneath his touch.
This one, he realised, was a female. A glorious dragon of orange-gold flame, smaller than the others he had seen back at the drakonian castle, delicate by comparison, yet no less lethal.
Kage’s lessons returned to him unbidden: dragons were unlike wyverns.
Here, the males towered in bulk and might, while the females, though slighter, were faster, keener, infinitely more precise.
‘I think we could ride her,’ Kai said, his voice soft as he stroked the creature’s crown. The dragon responded by lowering herself to the ground, folding her wings like silk across her spine.
He turned to find Dawn standing a great distance away, her arms wrapped around her middle, trembling. She looked small, stricken, as though the very air had become too sharp to breathe.
‘Come here,’ he urged.
She shook her head, eyes wide with something deeper than hesitation, something far closer to terror.
‘Are you frightened?’ he asked, not unkindly. There was no jest in his voice, no sharpness. Only quiet curiosity.
Dawn stepped forward, just one step, an instinctive act of defiance perhaps, but the moment the dragon released a low growl, she recoiled, her fear breaking through like glass.
‘You’re afraid of dragons,’ Kai said, not as an accusation, but a realisation. ‘Yet your entire plan hinged on using them to defeat Hagan. How exactly did you think that would work?’
‘I hadn’t… quite thought that far ahead,’ she muttered, eyes fixed on the creature as though it might turn at any moment and devour her whole. ‘Step one: find the dragons. Step two… well, that was to be determined.’
‘Come closer,’ he said again, this time gentler.
‘No.’
‘It won’t bite.’
‘I’m not afraid of being bitten, you blasted idiot,’ she snapped, her voice raw. ‘I’m afraid it’ll burn me alive.’
And suddenly, Kai understood.
Of course she feared dragons. It was dragons that had razed her kingdom to cinders.
That had devoured her people and reduced her land to smoke and ash.
Even if she hadn’t yet been born when it happened, she had grown up with their ghosts.
In a kingdom where memory lingered like soot on every breath, how could she not be afraid?
‘Do you trust me?’ Kai asked, his hand extended towards her like an anchor in a storm. ‘I won’t let it hurt you. That, I promise.’
Something unspoken shone in her eyes, something bright and tremulous, like the hush before dawn breaks.
And in that moment, Kai cursed the glamour that veiled her.
It wasn’t her true face he looked upon, not the one he’d grown familiar with.
Those sharp, expressive eyes of violet, brimming with spirit and defiance.
No mask, no magic, could capture the soul behind them.
Still, she stepped closer. Tentatively. Carefully. Until her fingers slid into his.
‘Yes,’ she murmured, her eyes fixed on their joined hands. ‘I suppose I do.’
He guided her onto the dragon’s back, his grip steady and sure, never letting go. She sat stiffly, every muscle drawn taut.
‘Don’t show fear,’ he warned, voice low against her ear. ‘They can smell it.’
‘Oh, that’s rich coming from you, commander,’ she hissed, glancing over her shoulder with a glare. ‘Dragons didn’t reduce your kingdom to ashes. I’d love to see how bravely you’d fare if I marched you into one of your own nightmares.’
Kai chuckled, a sound that rumbled from deep within. ‘I’m not afraid of anything.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Now that’s the biggest lie I’ve heard all day.’
The dragon rose to its feet, and Dawn let out a startled cry, her entire body jolting with the motion. Without hesitation, Kai wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her against his chest.
‘Close your eyes,’ he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. ‘And breathe.’
‘I can’t,’ she gasped. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘Yes, you can,’ he said firmly. ‘You’ve changed your face with magic and travelled across kingdoms with a flick of your hand. You’ve survived what would have broken others. This is no different.’
‘It is different,’ she muttered, shaking her head. ‘That’s magic.’
He smiled faintly. ‘So is this.’
Before she could protest again, the dragon unfurled its vast wings. Dawn began to tremble violently, and Kai felt her whole body press against his with such force he half-wondered if she might absorb into his skin.
She began to writhe, trying to slip down, but he held her fast. Then, gently, he lifted one hand to cover her eyes, while the other stayed firm around her waist.
‘Don’t let go!’ she cried as the dragon bolted forward and soared into the sky.
She screamed, a sound sharp and raw enough to rattle the clouds, but even as it echoed, Kai felt her begin to soften, to still. Bit by bit, she stopped fighting.
And then, at last, with the wind howling around them and the sun painting the sky in molten gold, he let his hand fall away from her eyes.
He felt it the moment she opened them. Her entire form shifted, subtle yet undeniable, as though the air itself responded to her awakening.
Her shoulders remained stiff, tension humming through her limbs, but her head began to turn, slowly at first, then with quickening curiosity as she took in the world around her.
‘Oh, Hecate save me,’ she breathed, her voice tremulous with awe and terror. She leaned sharply to one side, caught sight of the world unfurling beneath her and promptly screamed. ‘And this is how I die!’
‘You’re not dying today,’ Kai said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.