The city of Vispér wasn’t far now. Her towering walls had come into view not long ago as Yara found herself travelling towards them. The request by the king for her to appear for an audience hadn’t mentioned any specific time, but she wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible. Yara had parted ways with Laras not long ago, sharing one last kiss before they let each other go. She could still feel his arms around her and the memory of his lips remained on hers.

‘That couldn’t have been easy,’ Julie took shape behind Yara in the saddle. She wrapped her arms around her friend.

‘You’re right, and it still isn’t.’

‘You’re worried, right?’ Julie poked her head over Yara’s shoulder and looked at her, ‘worried something might happen?’

‘Seems to be a thing with the people I care about.’

‘He’s smart, and if he can handle you he can handle anything thrown his way.’

‘I hope you’re right.’

‘Do you know anything about this contract?’ Julie made an attempt at changing the topic.

‘Other than that the king wanted a private audience, not much,’ Yara answered, ‘it’d better be important though.’

‘It’s the king, right? It definitely will be.’

They approached the walls, Yara flashed the envelope to one of the guards and he shouted to have the gates opened.

‘Lot of guards around,’ said Yara, ‘Anglavar isn’t even remotely close yet, almost feels like they’re overpreparing.’

The reason for the number of guards would be revealed soon however, as they passed through the gates they saw the masses of people within.

‘Saints, there’s nearly as many people here as there were in Mirelue,’ said Julie. Yara didn’t hear a word she said, instead opting to try and block out the sound around her. The crowds made a near overwhelming amount of noise as Yara passed through on horseback. She focused on the road and rode over narrow streets beset on nearly all sides by tall, grey buildings.

Vispér was built on a tall hill. A winding series led to the extravagant palace at the very top. Yara could see it all the way from where she was. It was like a line of sight had been cleared in the row of houses to give the walls around the palace full view of any approaching forces. The higher they climbed the more elegant the buildings around them became. Some of the architecture mirrored that of the now long-defunct Virelli Empire. It appeared the Yilgran upper class loved to mirror that culture.

‘Are you ready?’ asked Julie as they approached the palace gates, ‘I hope you rehearsed your curtsy.’

Yara laughed, ‘not since I was a little girl.’

‘Oh dear, you dare show up to a king’s court unwashed, dressed like a boor, and behaving like a commoner?’

‘I do indeed,’ said Yara as she dismounted. She wanted to help her out of the saddle when she remembered that that’d be pointless. Julie however graciously accepted the hand Yara offered her.

‘Your business?’ asked a guard, he poked Yara in the back with the blunt end of his halberd. She turned around to face him. He was young, far too short to be handling the weapon he was given, and his helmet nearly sunk forward over his eyes. She flashed the envelope again.

‘I have an audience with His Majesty the King.’

He narrowed his eyes and studied the envelope from afar, then let her through. Yara watched as another guard took Helena by the reins and brought her away to a stable. Julie and her walked through the extensive, well-kempt garden. Half a dozen gardeners must’ve been at work trimming the hedges. At its centre was a dried-up fountain, now used as a tiered flower bed. Yara heard the sound of a blade hitting wood and looked to her right as she passed the fountain. One of the men working the gardens was cutting down a tree. She recognised what kind of tree it was: a Fire Ebony. It was the same type that was used for making her shield and it was closely associated with Anglavar. After more looking around she found more stumps of other trees, each seemingly representing one of Yilgra’s neighbours.

‘I wonder what that’s about,’ said Julie as she followed Yara through the garden. Yara shrugged.

‘Whatever it’s about is none of my business.’

‘You’re not curious?’

‘Maybe a little, but I think I have an idea’

‘Ooh, care to share?’

‘Judging by the fact that Yilgra is at war with Anglavar it’s supposed to be a sort of symbolic gesture, I think.’

The man with the axe glared at her over his shoulder and Yara decided to increase her pace slightly in response. Julie took notice.

‘You could take him.’

‘And get arrested? No thanks,’ Yara answered as they got to the large front door. It was open, revealing the cold, grey interior. The floor was made of black and white marble, arranged in a tile pattern. The heel of her flat boots made an audible tapping sound as she walked over it. A manservant awaited her at the entrance to one of the cold hallways. He wore a grey and white suit. His somewhat rounded jawline was covered in small scars, and he had short blond hair on his head. The servant was quite a bit taller than Yara, resulting in him looking down at her. He asked something in Yilgran, and Julie responded for Yara.

‘I understand you do not speak our great language?’

Yara nodded, ‘I don’t.’

‘His Royal Highness will have to be informed of this,’ he said as he looked Julie up and down, ‘your… provokingly dressed friend will not be allowed to accompany you.’

‘That’s alright, I’ll be here until you’re done.’

‘Oh, no you’ll have to wait outside, preferably off palace grounds.’

Julie pouted and turned away, dissipating as she spun. The servant appeared surprised for a split-second before he collected himself and took a few steps down the hallway.

‘Follow me, lady Stormcleaver,’ he gestured at Yara, who began to follow him. She walked next to her guide and as she did so he looked down at her, taking notice of the few scars he could see like the ones on her face and arm.

‘Those won’t do at all.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Those scars, they are a pox upon your complexion, a great shame too.’

‘I don’t think they’re that bad…’ said Yara quietly as she ran her hand over the one on her arm. Her thoughts strayed to what Laras might have to say of the servant’s words. They stopped at a fancy looking door, it was decorated with an elegant pattern made from golden paint. The servant knocked and the king shouted something in Yilgran before he could open the door.

‘Enter,’ he gestured at her to enter before him. Yara obeyed and stepped through the doorway into the king’s office. It was a large, rectangular room. Purple and golden banners decorated its walls from ceiling to floor. At the centre of the room was a large red carpet that contrasted with both the dark wooden floor and the white walls. An old, dark desk stood at the far end, with a man sitting behind it in a comfortable chair.

‘His Royal Highness, King Emil Vroul of Yilgra,’ said the servant. He bowed deeply and threw Yara an insulted look when he caught that she hadn’t followed his example.

‘You may leave, Marlowe,’ the king waved his hand and the servant walked out of the room. The king stood up and leaned forward over his desk. His hair was short and red, with a short, recently grown beard on his jaw. His hazel eyes stared intently at his guest.

‘I see you took your time?’ he asked, it almost sounded like a sneer when he said it.

‘I apologise profusely,’ this was hardly Yara’s first time dealing with temperamental royals. Both crown-princess Meya and her father Valos weren’t exactly the calmest of people. She was lucky that she had experience, and the king took notice.

‘Well, you’re here now and I suppose that’s all that matters,’ he walked away from his desk and towards a fancy dresser in the corner of the room. He swept aside stacks of paper and took hold of the neck of a decorated bottle. He raised it to show her,

‘Could I interest you?’

Yara shook her head, ‘no thank you, your Highness.’

‘Suit yourself,’ King Vroul picked up one of the crystal glasses from the same cupboard and poured it full of whatever beverage was in the bottle, ‘sit,’ he said as he nodded at a chair. Yara obeyed and sat down.

‘I realise the letter was quite… loosely worded to put it mildly,’ he said, ‘all with good reason of course, my request is of utmost secrecy.

‘If I may speak freely, your Highness, I felt it was lacking in more than that regard.’

‘I don’t believe I granted your request.’

‘My apologies,’ Yara looked down.

‘It matters not, now I believe it to be high time I actually explain to you what my request pertains to,’ he looked at his guest, who still sat with her head slightly bowed, ‘are you familiar with Yilgran customs?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Hrm, well to cut a long, unnecessarily winding story short, when our royals perish through whatever means, a successor is picked at random by a creature known as a Gryphon,’ the King explained, ‘my son will never sit that throne unless chosen to by some brutish beast.’

‘If I may-’

‘Speak.’

‘I believe this is supposed to create a level of fairness, judging by how your highness explained it.’

‘Truthfully, it is the opposite,’ he walked to the other side of the room to stare out of his golden-framed ceiling height windows and down at the city below, ‘how could such a beast truly choose the next royal of a nation? It has no mind, it merely points its filthy claws at anything from a decrepit old man to a newborn babe,’ he drank from his glass.

‘In what way is that not fair?’ Yara asked. King Vroul threw her a deathly glare.

‘The vermin has no concept of leadership,’ he responded, ‘You and I are of nobler stock, we know how to lead! An orphaned farmboy wouldn’t even know how to put on his trousers, let alone rule a country,’ his eyes were now transfixed on his glass as he loudly smacked his lips. A smirk was planted on his face when he looked toward Yara, ‘to return to the subject at hand, I would like to ask you to slay the beast.’

Yara looked up and raised an eyebrow. His hypocrisy in wanting the very thing that put him in power dead did not escape her. It took a lot out of her to not point it out, ‘surely that would bring the country into disarray?’

‘This “Law of the Gryphon” already has in the long age it has existed,’ He said in an irritated tone as he grew increasingly more agitated, ‘prior to your king’s misadventure into MY sovereign territory this country was divided up into thirteen duchies, all whinging about my illegitimacy,’ he said as he spat on the floor. The King’s hand tightly squeezed his glass.

‘I’m not accustomed to fighting things other than dr-.’

‘I will have you rid this creature from my land even if it means I must force you to,’ he threw his glass to the hard wooden floor. It shattered into tiny crystalline fragments that he then crushed under his boot.

‘Truthfully speaking, miss Stormcleaver, I had hoped for your mentor to have made an appearance, alas his untimely demise meant I had to make do with you.’

That stung. The blatant disregard for- and the scathing remarks regarding the skill of the person sitting before him, combined with the mention of Arran stuck with Yara.

‘The weapon you will require has by now been completed by my artificer and I expect you to retrieve it,’ the King walked back to his desk and sat down, ‘fail to heed this order, and I will have my guards make you comply.’

‘Could I make one request?’

‘Speak,’ King Vroul leaned back in his chair.

‘I cannot live on a weapon alone-.’

‘Oh you believed you were to keep it?’

‘I do require payment.’

‘Nonsense, you will do this for the good of the realm, MY realm.’

‘Your Highness, I need to eat much like yourself and others.’

‘A fair point,’ he conceded, ‘I will make one compromise with you, dragon huntress, bring me the creature’s heart and you shall have its weight in silver, however heavy that heart may be.’

‘I can agree with that.’

‘Good, now leave,’ said the king as he waved her away, ‘I have more pressing matters to attend to, my servant will inform you of where you need to go.’

Just as soon as she’d entered the city she was gone again. The king’s servant had given her directions to a village not too far north of the capital, less than half a day’s ride away. Julie had followed her out. She sat behind Yara in the saddle, both her legs slung over one side of the horse.

‘How did it go in there?’ asked Julie, she hadn’t asked before.

‘I got threatened once or twice, but I did find out what I have to do.’

‘That’s good, can you tell me?’

‘I’m supposed to make quick work of a tradition.’

‘And how exactly are you meant to do that?’

‘I have to kill a gryphon.’

‘That’s a bad idea,’ said Julie, ‘you’ll piss off everyone, that gryphon’s important here and if it’s killed all hell will break loose.’

‘You don’t have to tell me,’ said Yara as she focused on the road ahead, ‘this man though, he was determined to have me do this.’

‘You could just leave.’

‘I’d rather not risk whatever he had in mind for his guards to do to me.’

‘That’s fair to worry about.’

Yara felt a chilling gale blowing her way from over the treetops. Autumn had only just arrived yet it felt like winter was just around the corner.

‘Now I need to go see a man that’s made a weapon for me, according to His Royal Highness it’s been a long time in the making.’

She arrived in the evening. Cold wind blew through the village as she went past the different houses. Now that she’d gotten here Yara had no idea where to find the house she was looking for. She saw a guard warming his hands by a fire.

‘Excuse me, could I ask you a question?’

He looked up at her before returning his attention to the flames, ‘go ahead, what’s got you bothered?’

‘I’m looking for the house of an artificer that lives nearby, could you tell me where it is?’

‘Sure I can,’ he answered as he turned around, you go through the village, in the direction of the foothills, he lives amidst those awful dark trees.’

Yara thanked him before moving on. The guard returned his focus to warming himself as she rode away.

Now her second time visiting an artificer’s home Yara knew not to expect anything too grandiose or imposing, yet even the house she looked at now managed to sink far below what she’d thought. It was sunk into the ground a little. Grass and moss coated the roof, and any sheds that’d once surrounded the main building were dilapidated and worn to such an extent they’d become unusable.

The house’s front door was unlocked and hung loose in its hinges. Yara entered. She narrowly avoided bumping her head on the doorframe, something that rarely happened to her because of how short she was. Shortly after just walking into the house she realised that she might’ve just intruded.

‘By all means, come in,’ said a male voice from the other side of the house. He was barely audible over the sound of crackling flames and metal hitting metal. It was cozy inside. The door led into a hallway that split into several rooms. Orange light was cast from one of them, whilst the others were fairly dark.

‘I’m in the workshop!’ the man called. Yara assumed that he meant the room at the end of the hall. The house almost appeared bigger from the inside, a trick of how it’d been built into the hill it stood on. She entered and felt a blast of heat coming from inside. The workshop’s interior was well-kempt and clean as opposed to what else Yara had seen in the house. Everything was organised in such a way one could easily tell what was what. At the centre of the room stood a short man. He was busy hammering away at something on the anvil and it had taken nearly all his focus, using what little he had to spare to greet his guest.

‘Welcome,’ he said, ‘I’ll only be a moment.’

Yara didn’t say anything in response to avoid distracting him. She watched him quench the metal he was working in some sort of oil before drying it and putting it back in the fire.

‘I never thought I’d see Nimhailc’s ban-,’ he’d started to speak before he turned around to look at Yara, and when he did he realised his mistake, ‘I thought you to be someone else, forgive me.’

‘It’s alright,’ Yara replied as she looked away, ‘I was sent here to retrieve a weapon of some kind by the King.’

‘Saints, is it time already?’ the man looked back to his forge before he extended a hand towards Yara, ‘the name is Jonathan Skye.’

‘Yara Stormcleaver,’ she replied as she shook his hand.

‘A Stormcleaver? like..?’

‘Yes, like him.’

‘It appears I was only half mistaken then,’ he returned his attention to the metal, ‘I’ll be with you in another minute, my daily work on this thing is nearly complete,’ Skye then rushed over to a shelf of jars, taking a small one down and taking a tiny amount of grains from it. He sprinkled the dust over the fiery hot metal before he returned to hammering. Yara watched him work until eventually he quenched the metal a second time and simply let it rest. He slapped his hands together and looked at his handiwork for the day.

‘This’ll be the last day I have to pre-work the spells,’ said Skye, ‘tomorrow she’ll be finished,’ he left the room and Yara followed him.

‘What is it you’re working on?’ she asked as they turned into the living room.

‘Your weapon,’ he said, ‘a special request by his Royal Highness, originally designed for the greatest monster slayer on all Angalir, a title that went to Arran Stormcleaver when he slew Nimhailc.’

‘About that…’ said Yara as she sat down, ‘Arran, my former mentor, he’s gone.’

‘I am deeply sorry to hear that, still the weapon is already made and I can’t undo the work that was done,’ he looked at Yara, ‘I am sure that if you were his apprentice, you would equal if not surpass his skill.’

‘I’m not exactly in a position to refuse.’

‘A position I know too well.’

Yara looked at her host with a curious expression. Skye sat with his shoulders slumped forward. He sighed.

‘I really didn’t want to make this weapon, alas, a king’s order is law in Yilgra so obey I did.’

‘I’d assume you knew why he asked for it then.’

‘He didn’t tell me immediately, but I could infer what he wanted based on his strangely precise list of materials, when he did tell me it only confirmed my suspicions.’

‘Do you know anyone else that’s aware of what he wants me to do?’

‘Only you, myself, his Royal Highness, and that taint sponge of a servant I keep forgetting the name of,’ Skye chuckled, ‘he’s kept this secret very closely, I think you can guess why.’

‘I don’t imagine many people would be happy with the Law of the Gryphon being broken.’

‘No, they wouldn’t be, it’s true Yilgra has been fragmented for a long time but this rule is something that has always unified us in the end.’

‘And if that rule is gone…’

‘There’d be no reason for any of our nobles to not secede and remain loyal.’

‘That’s why he must’ve wanted Arran, or me, or really any foreigner to do it,’ Yara said, ‘to shift the blame onto his neighbours if it went sour for him.’

‘Precisely, fortunately for you there’s something Emil doesn’t know about, and he won’t until you tell him.’

‘What’s that then?’

‘There’s more than one Gryphon in that roost,’ said Skye, ‘Emil’s an idiot that thinks they live for a long time, the one that selected him has been dead for nearly twenty-five years, about half the amount of time I’ve spent preparing the steel.’

‘So why keep going?’

‘A king’s word is law, and now you’re here to carry that act through, well almost anyhow.’

‘What do you mean by almost?’

‘I can’t finish the weapon yet, I wanted to wrap the hilt in dragon leather and I don’t have any, we’re both lucky one’s been seen in the area.’

'You need me to go kill it, I assume.’

Skye nodded, ‘I do, and if you do that for me I can make you something extra as well,’ he stood up and walked towards a tool rack. From it he took a knife and handed it to his guest, ‘use this to skin it.’

‘What kind of thing were you thinking of?’ asked Yara, she raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

‘Something you’ll find very useful if that dragon is what I think it might be, trust me it’ll be worth your effort.’

‘I’ll take you word for it then,’ said Yara as she stood up, ‘where do I start?’

Back in the village again. Jonathan Skye had pointed her to the small cattle farm just on the town’s edge. A cow had disappeared from the pasture in the middle of the night and it fell to Yara to investigate where it’d gone. The first thing she noticed was that the dragon had dragged its prey over the ground before finally lifting it, however it’d knocked into several treetops as it made its haphazard escape.

‘A juvenile then…’ Yara muttered as she squatted down to inspect the tracks. There was no telling what dragon it actually was from these drag marks. She was going to need a witness or someone who knew more. Yara got up and turned around to try and find the guard she’d talked to before. He was standing by a different brazier now, still warming his hands. The guard sighed when he saw Yara approach.

‘Good evening,’ she greeted him, getting only a grunt in response.

‘What do you want now?’

‘I’m looking into the cattle that disappeared recently and-.’

‘And you wanted my help for it.’

‘I only meant to ask if you’re aware of anyone that might know more.’

The guardsman looked around, snorted, and then spoke again, ‘there’s this “priest” from the mainland who said he was looking for one of his gods, he’s locked himself in in the only good room in the inn.’

‘Thank you.’

He returned to ignoring her immediately after. Yara turned towards the main road that ran through the village and began to look for the inn, a building easily found. She assumed it was the largest, and a sign with a gryphon on it proved her right. She walked inside, the cold outside air made way for the warmth of the inn’s hearth, to Yara it felt like a welcome change.

‘Anything you want?’ asked a barmaid that passed her.

‘What way are your rooms?’

‘Looking to book one?’

‘No, there’s someone I need to talk to in one of them.’

‘Oh the priest,’ the barmaid said as she handed a drink to a patron, ‘up the stairs and to the left, the only room we have really.’

Yara thanked her and followed her directions, they led her to a rickety wooden door. She knocked on it once and immediately got a response from whoever was hiding behind it.

‘Occupied!’ he shouted in response, ‘find another room someplace else.’

‘I need to talk with you.’

‘Oh, then I’m not here.’

‘It’s about the dragon in the area, and I already know you’re in there,’ said Yara, ‘if you’re not going to open this door yourself I will kick it down.’

‘Fine, fine!’ said the man behind the door, he opened it carefully. He was less than a head taller than her. Yara recognised his silver-accented red robes. They were simple but unmistakably those of the Sightless, a mainland religious order that worshipped dragon prophets. She looked at his face and recognised him immediately.

‘Haming,’ she said coldly as she ran forward and grabbed him by the collar. She put the man up against the wall.

‘Oh f-fuck,’ Haming stuttered as he looked at Yara’s face. He recognised her as well, ‘if I knew it was you I w-would’ve just opened the door.’

‘Like hell you would’ve.’

‘Could y-you please let me down?’ Haming asked carefully, ‘I’ll tell you what you need to know.’

Yara obliged and Haming let out a sigh of relief.

‘What do you know about the dragon that’s been sighted here, be honest now.’

‘It’s a dragon prophet, the one blessed with protection,’ his stress-induced stutter disappeared as he collected himself, ‘it escaped recently and I was tasked to bring it back.’

‘It doesn’t surprise me you’ve been unsuccessful so far.’

‘I can help you track it down if you want.’

‘You can lead me to where you last saw it, then you’re going to turn tail and run like you did last time I saw you.’

Haming nodded, ‘that sounds like a good idea.’

‘Now move,’ said Yara as she watched him walk out of the room, ‘I want to catch this thing as soon as possible.’

‘I know I’m not exactly in any place to speak but-.’

‘No, you’re not,’ said Yara, seeing Haming again had brought back bitter memories of her time on the mainland.

‘But you shouldn’t hold it against me for this long.’

‘Which part, exactly?’ she stopped walking as they came to the edge of the forest, ‘the part where you tried to separate me from my mentor, the part where you made the journey that much harder which quite honestly was all the time, or the part where you were the direct cause for me almost losing my leg?’

‘Well, you still have it.’

‘Only because Arran dropped everything and rushed me to a healer.’

‘Speaking of Ar-,’ Haming stopped himself when he noticed Yara threw him a look that could kill, ‘not too good, I’m assuming.’

‘No, he’s gone, though I suppose that’s not the worst news for you.’

Haming wanted to change the subject, so he pointed towards a particular treetop, ‘I saw it fly here, with something in its claws,’ he said, ‘it hit the trees and snapped a few of them.’

Yara could see what he meant, ‘that’s it?’

‘That’s all I saw, nothing else, I was too afraid to go after it myself.’

‘About what I expected, run along.’

‘You’re going to kill it, right?’

‘What else am I supposed to do?’

‘Well there’s something you should know about it first, its scales are impenetrable.’

‘More so than normal dragon scales?’

Haming nodded, ‘they’re engraved with protection runes, nothing can break through.’

‘Tell me what its weak spot is.’

‘Inside of the mouth, you have to stab it in the mouth.’

‘Thanks, now run.’

Haming did as she told him to and ran away while Yara walked further into the forest. She followed which treetops had been broken, right until she stumbled upon a drag mark in the dirt. The dragon’s prey had been dragged through the dirt here, likely after it’d grown tired from flying with such a heavy load. Not long after she found the corpse, lying still on the ground with one eye turned to the sky above. Yara could see the reflection of the moon in the cow’s dark, dead eyes. As she looked around the corpse she could hear a shrill, shrieking tone in her ears that distracted her for a split second. The creature’s stomach had been torn open not long ago, innards had been pulled out and half devoured. The stench permeated the surrounding air.

‘Well it’s definitely coming back for that,’ said Yara to herself as she found a place to hide. Just around a tree and slightly out of the range of the smell. She sat down with her legs crossed. To prepare herself she’d brought a whetstone to sharpen Skycleave with, it was also to entertain herself. The sound of the black steel grinding along the stone was oddly soothing despite how shrill it was.

Between the sharpening of her blade Yara listened to the sounds around her. That was how she always managed to catch a dragon by surprise, by listening for it. She knew that the sound she was making along with the smell of the carcass would attract the blind dragon, and at the same time it would have no idea what it was in for.

Between the strokes of her blade over the stone she caught it, leather wings hitting the wind. It was gliding near silently through the night but it had to make that slight movement that gave it away. Yara put away her whetstone and got ready. The flapping became heavier and more frequent as it neared the ground. The dragon cooed a little when it discovered that its kill was still there and immediately it began to gorge itself.

Its pale hide was covered in symbols that glowed faintly in a golden hue, while its eyes had been sewn shut roughly with some sort of metal cord. Puss and filth had collected around the eye’s permanently shut lids. Its banded tail was long, slender, and covered in small barbs that could rip through anyone’s skin. Yara walked towards it slowly, but her attempt at sneaking went unsuccessful. The dragon looked up. Its head cocked in curiosity.

‘That animal you took belonged to someone,’ said Yara as she slowly circled around the creature, 'now I have no idea how many people you’ve harmed or how many you can still harm, but I need to stop you.’

The dragon almost seemed to understand for a second before it decided that the woman pointing a weapon at it wasn’t any of its concern. It returned all its attention to eating the carcass. It changed its mind pretty quickly however when Yara decided to get too close. The dragon jumped back and spread its wings open wide to make itself appear larger, a trick she didn’t fall for. It lunged at her and immediately Yara dashed aside. Out of instinct she swung Skycleave down onto its neck. With a loud clang it bounced off and the runes on the dragon’s skin glowed a bright white for just a second, enough to blind Yara.

‘FUCK, my eyes!’ she shouted as she covered her eyes with her left arm. Yara tried to fight through it. The dragon vaulted towards her. Now completely relying on her sense of hearing she tried dodging an attack, but instead felt a heavy tail slam into her that knocked her into a tree not too far from where she stood. She dropped Skycleave on the ground next to her.

‘I can’t do this,’ she said to herself. The dragon sniffed her. She could feel its warm breath on her face before it was quickly pulled away from her. She heard the crashing of falling trees and the roaring of a much larger creature. The smell of burning ash began to fill the air.

Confused and disoriented Yara tried standing up, which unfortunately resulted in her falling again.

‘Keep it pinned!’ shouted a voice she recognised immediately.

‘LARAS!?’ Yara shouted, scared, confused, and relieved all in the same tone of voice.

‘Yara?’ he was looking around for her. Once he found her he tried helping her up, ‘Are you alright?’

‘I can’t see.’

‘Fuck, hold on,’ he supported her with his arm before gently sitting her down, ‘stay here,’ he said.

‘I won’t go anywhere.’

Laras then ran back towards the fight that was going on behind them.

‘WAIT!’ shouted Yara, ‘its weak spot is its mouth, that’s the only way to kill it.’

She couldn’t see it, but Laras nodded before he continued to run. She could hear him yell in pain once, which was followed by the sound of the creature dying as his sword penetrated the roof of its maw. Laras came running back to Yara, helping her stand up again. Her sight was coming back now, even if it was only little by little.

‘What happened?’ asked Laras as he supported her walking.

‘I tried fighting it on my own, when I hit it I was blinded.’

‘You’re not hurt, right?

‘I think I’m okay, I dropped my sword though.’

‘I’ll look for it, mind if I sit you down for a quick second?’

Yara shook her head and she tried sitting on the ground, she looked up at Laras, ‘I heard you shout, are you okay?’

‘I’ll be fine, I promise,’ he inhaled through his teeth as he picked up Skycleave, ‘I’ll need the sheath.’

Yara handed it to him and she heard the familiar sound of the sword entering its scabbard.

‘You can use my horse, if you’d like, I understand walking around on your own might be a little difficult right now.’

‘That’d be nice.’

‘Havor!’ he yelled, following it with a whistle, ‘alright, now don’t be afraid, I’ll have to pick you up for a quick second.’

Yara nodded, she heard the sound of hooves on dirt as the horse approached.

‘Wait,’ she said, ‘I needed to bring that dragon’s hide with me.’

‘I don’t think either of us are in a condition to skin a dragon,’ Laras said with a laugh, he turned around, ‘Could you pick that up for us?’

Yara heard the sound of stomach rumbling before a deep voice replied, ‘I’m not a pack mule, see this as your one request.’

‘Is that..?’

‘It’s Ashfallow, don’t worry,’ said Laras, ‘he’ll follow us if you know where to go.’

‘I’ll try to remember the way.’