The storm had passed, leaving only silence — heavy, suffocating silence.
Snow still fell outside the cavern, but inside, the air glowed faintly with the dying light of their campfire. The walls were etched with faded symbols — ancient draconic runes, half-buried under centuries of soot and frost.
Seraphina sat against the stone wall, her breath shallow. Her wings were torn and bloodstained, the golden membrane scorched from the wyrm's fire. She didn't flinch as Eric knelt beside her, wrapping bandages around her arm.
"Hold still," he muttered.
"I've survived worse," she said softly, voice hoarse. "You don't need to—"
"Yes, I do." His tone was firmer than before, almost sharp. "Because every time you say that, I remember you nearly burned yourself alive for me."
Seraphina looked at him — the faintest hint of a smile ghosted her lips. "You sound angry."
"I am," he said, meeting her gaze. "At everything. At them. At Drakonis. Even at you, sometimes. Because I can't stand the thought of losing you."
Her golden eyes softened, but she didn't speak. The fire crackled between them, reflecting in both their eyes like twin embers refusing to die.
---
Hours passed in silence.
Eric checked the cave's entrance — no movement, no sound but the whisper of snow. When he returned, Seraphina was tracing her fingers along the old runes on the wall.
"Do you know what these mean?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I can barely read human script."
She smiled faintly. "They're draconic — older than the Kingdom of Scales. This place once belonged to the Ignis Sanctum, the Fire Order. A sect of dragons who believed flame was more than destruction. They saw it as memory — as soul."
Eric sat down beside her. "You think this place was built by your ancestors?"
"Maybe. Maybe not." Her expression turned distant. "But there's a legend — one my mother told me when I was little. She said that in the deepest sanctum of fire lies a spark untouched by Drakonis's blood. A flame pure enough to break even the oldest bond."
"A bond," Eric repeated. "You mean…"
"The blood oath," she whispered. "The chain that ties every dragon to Drakonis's will. Including me."
Eric's eyes widened. "You think it's real?"
She looked at him then, the firelight flickering across her face. "I have to believe it is. Because if it's not… there's no other way to stop him."
He didn't answer. The weight of her words hung between them like smoke.
---
Later that night, while Seraphina slept, Eric sat awake by the dying fire.
He couldn't shake the image of her collapsing in the snow — of the blood on her lips, of the fire that nearly consumed her when she unleashed her full power. She'd given everything she had to save him, again. And each time she did, he felt smaller, weaker… more mortal.
He looked at his hands — calloused, scarred, trembling slightly.
He wasn't born to fight gods or dragons. He was just a man.
And yet…
He clenched his fists.
If she's fighting for me, then I'll fight for her.
He stood and stepped toward the runes. The faint light from the fire danced across the carvings. When he brushed his fingers over one, a pulse of warmth rippled through the stone — subtle, but real.
He frowned. "Seraphina…"
She stirred awake instantly — dragon instincts never slept. Her wings shifted under her cloak as she sat up. "What is it?"
"Something's here." He stepped back. "These runes — they're reacting."
She moved closer, her eyes glowing faintly as she inspected the markings. Then she whispered an old word, one that made the air hum.
The walls began to breathe.
Embers sparked along the carvings, glowing lines connecting into a sigil — a circle of flame and wings. The cave itself seemed to awaken.
Eric shielded his eyes. "What's happening?"
Seraphina's expression hardened. "It's a memory seal — a remnant of the old order. It activates when it senses dragon blood."
The light coalesced in the center of the cave, forming a shape — not quite solid, not quite ghostly. A figure made of flame, humanoid but with the wings of a dragon.
Its voice echoed like an old song:
> "To those who bear the fire's curse, hear the whisper of the Sanctum.
Beyond the mountains of glass lies the Ember Hall.
Within it burns the last pure flame.
Only the bonded may reach it.
Only love untainted may wield it."
The vision faded, leaving only silence and the smell of smoke.
Seraphina stared at the spot where the figure had stood. Her eyes were wide, uncertain. "Love untainted…" she murmured. "It's talking about us."
Eric exhaled. "Then I guess we've got a destination."
She turned toward him slowly. "You don't understand. The Ember Hall lies deep within Drakonis's dominion. The skies themselves burn there. No mortal has ever returned from it."
Eric smiled grimly. "Good thing I'm not planning to die again."
Her eyes searched his face — the rough edges, the exhaustion, the stubborn light in his gaze. She sighed softly. "You're impossible."
"Maybe," he said, stepping closer. "But you need me."
For a moment, she didn't reply. Then, quietly:
"Yes. I do."
---
The next morning, they left the cave.
The sun rose weakly, its light barely cutting through the thick mist. The air smelled faintly of sulfur — a reminder that they were getting closer to the heart of Drakonis's territory.
Eric tightened his cloak, glancing at Seraphina as she stretched her wings cautiously. "You sure you can fly?"
She smiled faintly. "Not far. But enough to make you hold on tight."
He chuckled. "You just like watching me panic."
Her smirk deepened. "Maybe."
They took off moments later — the rush of air, the cold biting his face, the horizon stretching wide beneath them. The world below was vast and broken — mountains split by rivers of lava, forests turned to ash.
And yet, from up here, there was still beauty. The sky was endless. The wind sang. And in that fleeting moment, Eric understood what it meant to fly with her — not as a passenger, but as a partner.
---
By sunset, they landed near the ruins of an old fortress half-swallowed by the mountains.
They made camp within its crumbling halls, where old banners hung like ghosts from the ceiling.
As Seraphina inspected the structure, Eric found a mural carved into the wall — a depiction of dragons and humans standing side by side, guarding a glowing flame between them.
He called out, "You should see this."
She turned, her expression softening when she saw it. "The first pact," she whispered. "The age when dragons and humans shared one fire."
Eric stared at it in silence. "Then maybe we can bring it back."
"Maybe," she said quietly. "If we survive long enough."
He turned to her. "We will."
For the first time in a long while, she didn't argue. She simply stepped closer and placed her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm.
"Then promise me," she whispered. "If I fall to the curse — if Drakonis takes me — you'll end it."
Eric's eyes darkened. "Don't ask me to promise that."
"You must," she said firmly. "Because if he controls me, I won't be Seraphina anymore."
He held her hand tightly. "Then I'll save you before that happens. I don't care what it takes."
She stared at him — and for a heartbeat, the world stilled.
Then she smiled faintly, her voice barely audible. "You always were terrible at following orders."
He laughed under his breath. "You always gave impossible ones."
---
That night, they slept side by side beneath the ruined banners of an age long gone.
Outside, the wind howled across the mountains.
But within the fortress, two hearts beat in quiet defiance — bound not by fate, not by blood, but by choice.
And far to the east, beyond the horizon, the fires of Drakonis stirred — sensing the faint echo of their defiance.
The hunt was far from over.