The dragon and the demon collided again, shaking the forest so violently that moss and bark rained from the treetops like green snowfall.
Kael shielded Lira with his body as another shockwave burst across the clearing.
Maelor winced. "I really wish they'd stop doing that. I just fixed this cloak."
Lira pulled away from Kael's arm. "We can't just sit here while that thing destroys everything!"
"We also can't run into a fight between a Guardian Dragon and a demon bred to kill anything that moves," Kael said, watching the monstrous Bonecleaver Stalker tear through a boulder with a screeching, metallic shriek.
The dragon lunged with jaws wide, clamping onto the demon's arm. Bone cracked. The demon shrieked.
WHUMP—the dragon smashed it into the earth so hard the ground rippled.
Maelor peered over the stone. "Well… at least the dragon seems to have the upper claw."
But the demon didn't stay down.
It twitched—once, twice—then its limbs snapped into place with unnatural speed. It surged upward and slashed the dragon across the chest, spilling a river of molten-looking blood.
The dragon staggered, scales cracking, heat spilling out in waves.
Kael took a step out of cover.
Lira grabbed him. "Kael, wait—"
"He's going to die."
"And so will you!"
Kael grit his teeth, torn. "We can't just watch. It's a Guardian—it's protecting us!"
Maelor exhaled sharply. "Not exactly."
They both whipped their heads toward him.
"What do you mean 'not exactly'?!" Lira hissed.
"Well…" Maelor scratched his cheek, eyes flicking away. "Guardians don't… protect people. They protect balance. And right now, we're the source of the disturbance. So that dragon isn't defending us. It's defending the glade from the demon that was drawn here because of us."
Kael felt a cold weight drop into his stomach.
"So you're saying… we're the reason the demon attacked."
Maelor sucked in air through his teeth. "Ehhhh—technically? Yes. Entirely? Also yes."
Lira's jaw clenched. "We didn't ask to be dragged here."
"No one ever does," Maelor muttered.
Suddenly—
the demon twisted past the dragon's guard, sprinting straight toward them.
Kael's instincts flared. He shoved Lira behind him and raised his weapon just as the creature's bladed arm descended—
—but a massive tail swept in from the side, smashing the demon away in a thunderous arc.
The dragon landed between them and the demon, wings flaring out like a wall of obsidian and emerald.
Kael stared up at the colossal creature.
The dragon's breath hissed out, and a low rumble filled the glade.
"MORTALS… MOVE."
"Move? Where?!" Lira shouted.
The dragon thrust its wing down, pushing a rush of wind that sent Kael, Lira, and Maelor stumbling toward the forest edge.
Kael grabbed Lira before she fell. "It wants us out of the way."
Maelor nodded vigorously. "Excellent idea! Out of the way is my favorite direction!"
The demon lunged again, faster than before—its form cracking, splitting, unraveling into something even more monstrous. The air around it warped, as though reality itself resisted its existence.
Kael felt the hairs on his neck rise.
Something was wrong about this thing. Not just its shape or speed.
Its presence.
Like something had forced it to be here.
Something beyond demons, beyond Sereth—
Kael's heartbeat stuttered.
That presence he felt earlier…
Lira tugged his arm. "Kael, come on!"
They ran, Maelor leading them in a zig-zag pattern through roots and fallen stone until the sounds of battle dimmed—though the forest still shook with distant roars.
Only when they were deep in the trees did they stop, chests burning.
Silence settled.
Sort of.
Maelor wiped sweat from his brow. "Well! I'd call that a success. No one died. Technically. Yet."
Kael rounded on him.
"Enough. You know more than you're saying."
Maelor blinked innocently. "I know many things. Most of them useless. Some of them poetic."
"Something brought us here. Something saved us from Azaroth. Something that demon was tracking. And you've been dodging questions since we woke up."
Lira stepped beside Kael, eyes sharp. "Speak."
For the first time since they'd met him…
Maelor didn't joke.
Didn't smile.
Didn't deflect.
Instead, he looked at the sky through the canopy, expression unreadable.
"…There are forces in this world that prefer not to be seen," he murmured. "Forces that move threads, nudge paths, and—when utterly unavoidable—save mortals from dying before their time."
Kael's throat tightened.
"Are you saying someone saved us on purpose?"
Maelor didn't answer directly.
"Let's just say this: you two were not meant to die at Azaroth's hands."
Lira shuddered. "Then who—?"
Maelor raised one finger.
"Careful."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Careful of what?"
Maelor finally looked at them.
And the smile he gave wasn't playful.
It was tired.
"Careful of asking a name that the world itself is terrified to speak."
Kael and Lira fell silent.
Maelor exhaled, clapped his hands once, and forced his grin back into place.
"Right! We should move before the dragon finishes its fight and decides we're the imbalance now."
Lira nodded slowly. "Where do we go?"
Maelor tilted his head, listening.
"…Away from this place," he whispered. "Before the one who pulled you here decides your path needs another… correction."
Kael tried to ask what that meant.
But Maelor was already walking, humming a nervous tune.
And far behind them, deep in the glade, a final roar echoed through the trees—
followed by a silence far too heavy to be victory.