Fifty Five
Alara
Escor spreads his wings, moving them up and down as if to stretch them out.
“She can’t mean to…” Kaldar says.
“Alara!” Niyah shouts.
I ignore them as Escor runs forward, favoring his right side and then with a powerful flap of his wings, I hunker down as he pushes off the ground and into the sky.
My hair whips around my face, my eyes closing for a moment as he flies us higher and higher until he evens out.
Only then do I sit up, never once losing my grip on him.
“Good, Escor, you did it.”
He rumbles.
“Let’s bring them back to us.”
I’m the perfect fit for him as he flies through the sky, his wings flapping to glide him forward.
The heavy clouds create some form of cover as night fully descends on us, but the city burns like a raging sun in the distance, Thick, black smoke rises from the fire as Drogonah circles the skies above.
I stroke Escor as his worry flows into me. Mine joins him.
“Good boy, nearly there,” I tell him.
He purrs and presses on.
It won’t be a long journey for Escor and my extra weight, but we need to get there as quickly as possible.
As we near, the destruction becomes clear. Buildings on fire, people running out the gate’s entrance, the farmland surrounding the central path into the city burning like a red sea.
Drogonah growls, swinging a hard right in the sky and releasing another stream of fire as he passes.
Arrows are being let loose into the air, the ballista’s atop the castle walls that are still intact aiming his way, but with the thick, black smoke, and the darkness of night, it’s nearly impossible to see him.
A silent predator unless he wants you to know he’s there.
I look back down at the path leading to the entrance, wondering where we should land, and that’s when I spot a lonely figure walking along it, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.
“Down there, Escor,” I say, my throat dry from the heat.
Escor dives down, and I press as close to him as possible as he leans to the side to descend in a small spiral. I slip a little, and I make sure to tighten my thighs around him despite the pain.
He descends quickly, and as soon as he lands, his left leg gives out and we go tumbling to the ground. I fall off his back, rolling in the dirt and I cry out when I land on my side.
Gods it hurts.
I hold onto it, trying to ease the pain as Escor whimpers to the left of me, trying to get to me.
“Stop, Escor. It’s okay,” I pant.
He does, whining.
Gritting my teeth, I get to my feet, gingerly walking to him hunched over.
“Rest,” I say, as I pat his snout, looking at the burning city. “I’ll get him, thank you.”
He purrs as he closes his eyes, chest heaving from exhaustion.
He isn’t used to having someone on his back.
I stroke him one last time, feeling the pain he’s in, feeling regretful of needing him, but he’s the only one I can ride.
The one I’ve bonded with the most.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper, feeling the heat of the flames around us in the farmland.
People run past us, screaming at the sight of Escor and crying out in fear. They carry the wounded, people crying in pain and disbelief, making sure to give Rohan a wide berth up ahead, parting to let him through.
He holds his axe at his side, dragging it along the ground at a steady pace, leaving a cracked trail. His forearms are on… fire, his feet leaving scorched ground behind.
He’s a threat.
A danger.
A deadly vessel for those flames.
And still, I run to him on unsteady feet, just like he once told me to.
He’s saved me more times than I can count, took care of me, washed me, fed me, but most of all, he’s loved me, and now it’s my turn.
To love him, take care of him, save him.
“Rohan,” I croak out, spotting the fire creeping closer at the edges of the path we’re on.
Drogonah roars in fury.
“Rohan!”
I speed up the best I can, gripping my side and it hurts, Gods it hurts, but I grit my teeth and hurry.
He slashes his free hand out suddenly, and then another roar comes, fire blazing down, the heat scorching.
Part of the city wall collapses. People scream in distress, one on fire and running before he drops to the ground rolling, others trying to help put him out.
And Rohan never flinches, never looks their way, his sole focus is ahead of him.
I try to reach him, try to feel what he’s feeling, but even with the fire surrounding him, I’m hit with a cold wall.
“Rohan—” I stumble when someone knocks into me, my legs giving way and I land heavily in the dirt. I look down, pressing a hand to my side and then pulling it away, my palm wet with blood.
My blurry eyes find Rohan still moving, still walking away from me.
No.
I get to my knees, placing my foot down to stand and I manage to get it under me, coughing from the heat but then my knee gives way and I go back down again.
Come on stupid legs!
He can’t carry on.
He’s going to destroy it all, destroy himself.
I claw at the dirt, trying once more to get up but failing, my legs shaking, my side burning like the fires around us.
But he needs to stop. He needs to come back to me.
“Rohan!” I scream, chest heaving as I cough, choking on the heat from the fires creeping closer still, like it’s closing us in, taking the air with it.
The last people run past me, not offering to help me, and Rohan keeps moving away from me, one foot in front of the other, but then… he stops.
I take a deep breath, ignoring the burning in my lungs, the pain, the dizziness.
“Rohan!”
He tilts his head, and then slowly, so, so slowly, his head turns to the side, like he’s listening.
I call his name again, and then once more when his body turns to the side, head turning this way. I put my palms to the ground, rising clumsily, locking my knees as I run toward him, vision blurry.
“Rohan!” The blur of him turns once more, flames licking at his back and I stumble forward but manage to stay standing, the back of my neck sweating, my lungs screaming for air but I won’t leave him.
I won’t—
I trip over something, stumbling to the side.
No.
No.
I need to get to him.
I need to save him.
Love him…
My foot slips completely from under me, from my own blood, his blood, I don’t know, but he’s getting further away as my vision blacks out for a moment.
Then I begin to go down.
My last chance to get to him is fading away.
“Rohan… I’m… sorry…”
I close my eyes, waiting for impact, for the agony, but then, suddenly, large, rough hands grab me.
I gasp, my eyes flashing open and locking with bright purple ones as they stare down at me, the flames surrounding us in a wide circle, the ones on his arms extinguished.
I blink. “R-Rohan?”
His brows furrow, eyes scanning my face, like he’s confused. Like he doesn’t know me.
I cough, and his hands tighten on my arms ever so slightly, but he still says nothing.
Just stares at me with those dead, purple eyes that send a shiver down my spine.
“Rohan?”
He blinks, and the purple flashes out for a moment, but persists, like he’s fighting with himself.
I try to feel his emotions but that cold wall is still there.
“Come back to me,” I croak, lifting a shaking hand to palm his cheek, and the instant I connect with his skin, I suck in a sharp breath.
Rage like no other fills consumes me, boiling and roaring and it feels like I’m burning from the inside out.
Is that what he’s feeling? What is taking him away from me?
Drogonah roars again, and Rohan flinches.
I breathe through his rage, imagining myself running my hands into the fire stream, gently cooling it.
He snarls in my face, his grip tightening as his eyes flash with fury, holding me in a deathly embrace.
He doesn’t like me prying, will stop me at all costs, I can feel it, but…
“You don’t scare me, Rohan Asgarr,” I whisper as a tear falls from my eye.
He continues to snarl and growl at me, rage still present beneath the surface, and I lift on my tip toes, face inches from his. Glowing eyes not once blinking at me.
“You are the leader of clan Blackscale,” I tell him. “Dragonbond.”
Another flicker.
“Rider of Drogonah.”
The purple dims.
“The love of my life.”
It flashes out for a moment.
“And you don’t scare me,” I say firmly.
He growls deep then, threatening, a warning, and yet I press forward and connect my lips to his snarling ones.
He stills in an instant, chest heaving, panting heavily, a rumble so vicious coming from him, but despise that…
his fingers loosen on my arms, his lips become softer, his breathing slower, and then, a hand is in my hair and he’s kissing me back like he needs me to breathe, like he’s scared I’ll disappear.
That raging fire is still inside, fighting him, and I hold on to him just as tight, my hands gripping his, keeping him here with me.
The rage flows like a wave, but I grip onto it and help him push it back to a gentle flow, to help him be in control once more.
He makes a rough sound in the back of his throat when it’s steady, and then he pulls away, blinking down at me.
“There you are,” I breathe, relief flowing through me as his eyes begin to clear.
“Alara?” he whispers, holding me closer, hands touching my face.
They shake, his body shakes.
“I’m here.”
“You’re… here,” he says, confused before shaking his head. “How? You… you died,” he croaks out, thumbs stroking over my cheeks, gaze roaming over my body before coming to my eyes.
“Feel me,” I breathe, hands going to the back of his neck and bringing his forehead down to mine. “Feel me, Rohan.”
He lets loose a shuddering breath, eyes bouncing between mine, and then he’s hauling me into his arms in a tight hold.
I hold back my cry of pain, needing him just as close as I sag into him.
“I feel you.” He breathes into my neck. “Gods, I feel you Alara.”
“You came back to me.”
“I will always come back to you,” he mumbles, breathing harshly. “Always.”
Drogonah roars and Rohan’s head snaps up to him.
He looks around, frowning at the fire surrounding us, the fire engulfing the city. Then he looks back down at me.
“Did I?…” He shakes his head. “They hurt you, hurt us. The dragons. Everyone.”
“They did.”
“I—” He looks around, holding me closer, and I feel his confusion. “I thought you died...” he trails off, that rage swirling back up inside of him once more.
“Look at me.”
He does instantly.
“I’m here.”
“You’re here.”
He raises a hand to mine on his cheek, and he takes a deep breath.
“Little Whisperer…”
“It’s going to be okay.”
“They hurt you.” He growls, grip tightening. “They needed to pay.” He shakes his head. “They need to die.”
“I know, Rohan,” I say gently. “But there are people in there that don’t deserve to die.”
“But they come to The Games, watch us bleed, watch us die. They were laughing at your tears, Alara. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t put my people through that, my dragons. You. We have lost so much already.”
“I know,” I whisper. “But there are good people in there, Rohan… people like Effy who are just trying to survive… people like me.” I swallow. “I know you, and I know you don’t want to hurt anyone like that.”
He closes his eyes, swallowing roughly, and then he turns his face to the dragon.
“I know you don’t,” I repeat.
He nods. Once.
“Drogonah!”
A roar splits the night just as rain descends upon us. Rohan holds me close as Drogonah swoops down.
He lands heavily with a crash, like he can’t hold himself up anymore, shaking his head back and forth, chest heaving.
He was also blinded by rage and seems to be coming out of it.
Escor whimpers as he wobbles over to him and crashes down beside him.
“Rest now,” Rohan croaks out, and Drogonah lays down without so much as an eye roll, exhausted like I’ve never seen him before.
“We need to get you somewhere safe,” Rohan says as he looks around. “The fires…”
Rohan lifts me into his arms so suddenly that I can’t stifle the cry of pain.
“Alara!” he says, alarmed, panicked as he sets me down gently. “Fuck.”
“I’m okay, just… slow.”
He looks at my side, the bleeding there and grits his teeth.
“We need to get you seen.”
“And we will. Niyah patched me up for now. It’s not serious, just… painful.”
“Is… where are the others?” he asks warily. “I… I didn’t… did I?”
He looks toward the Enclave, fear in his eyes.
“They’re there. You didn’t hurt them, Rohan, and the ones that are injured are from… before.”
His eyes close and he nods.
“Then let’s go—”
“Stay where you are!”
My heart drops as Drogonah and Escor growl. Rohan tenses, holding me closer as we turn to a row of guards pointing Nighturn arrows at us.
And there, in the center, King Halen sits upon a horse, sword pointing at us with a snarl on his face.