We left the city as soon as we had what we needed, no waiting, no second breakfast, just Veyra and me heading south through the thinning forest toward the old iron mines. The sun was still low, painting everything gold and shadow. I liked the quiet between us. It wasn’t empty. It was full.

  After a couple hours of walking, the trees started to thin and the ground got rocky. I glanced at her. “So… draconoids like you. Your family. How rare is the shifting thing, really?”

  Veyra’s stride didn’t falter, but her voice softened a little.

  “Rare. Very rare. Most of my kind are born fully draconic, magnificent, eternal, wings and scales from the first breath. But only a few bloodlines carry the gift of duality, one blessed by one of the oldest of Dragon Gods – Kukulkan. He’s the one that granted our kind with the ability to walk as both dragon and humanoid. My family’s line goes back centuries. We’re guardians, not just warriors. The shift lets us stand among the people we protect… understand them. Protect them from the inside.” Veyra monologued, explaining so much to me.

  “Wait, Kukulkan?” That’s definitely a name I’ve heard of.

  “Yes,” she looked back at me, surprised at my knowledge of one of her gods in this world. “You actually know who that is?”

  “I’m not too familiar with the entire lore of that name, but I know where I came from, once upon a time, is still considered a deity,” I began to rumble my thoughts to her. “Does the name Quetzalcoatl ring a bell by any chance?”

  She stared, even more surprised, than before with how wide her eyes have gotten. “Yes, in our culture, he and Kukulkan are brothers. Basically they represent two sides of a coin,” she began to explain more in depth. “Kukulkan represents the humanity in us while Quetzalcoatl represents the actual dragon in us. Both brothers bring about our balance in this world as man and dragon.”

  “Wow, in my world they are one in the same, but I guess in this world they are considered brothers,” I scratched my head, wrapping all the knowledge I was just given by Veyra. “So familiar yet so different.”

  “I’m sure our world shares so much with yours, without you realizing,” she told me, with a gleeful smile. “Of course once we start our journey after this conflict of mine, I’m sure there’ll be tons more familiarity for you.”

  “Can’t wait and see all of those realizations then,” I had a very happy tone, then I backtracked a bit from our conversation. I let out a low whistle. “Speaking of realizations, how old are you, exactly?”

  She laughed softly, a little self-conscious, tail flicking once. “Old enough to remember when these forests were saplings. Young enough that meeting you feels like the first real thing in a very long time.”

  I stopped walking. Turned to face her fully. She stopped too, crimson eyes searching mine.

  “If I could live as long as you,” I said quietly, “I’d spend every single day with you. No hesitation. No looking back.”

  Veyra’s cheeks flushed deep crimson, deeper than I’d ever seen. Her tail curled tight, betraying her. She looked away, then back, eyes shining. “You… mean that?”

  “Every word.”

  She stepped closer, hand finding mine. “Then stay with me as long as you can. That’s enough.”

  I squeezed her hand. “Deal.”

  We kept walking, but the air between us felt different now, charged, intimate, like something had finally clicked into place.

  A couple hours deeper into the forest we ran into more bugs, horse-sized ants again, mandibles clacking like gunfire. Veyra scorched them with controlled bursts of flame. I cut through the rest with quick, precise slashes. Nothing we couldn’t handle. Just another day on the road.

  By late afternoon the trees gave way to rocky scrubland. Ahead rose a low mountain ridge, scarred with old mine entrances. Smoke drifted from the main shaft. Guards patrolled the perimeter: human, armored, whips and short swords glinting.

  Veyra’s eyes narrowed. “I remember this place. When I was a child, there was a secret entrance around the back of the ridge. Narrow. Steep. But it leads straight into the lower tunnels.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  I looked at the front gate - ten guards, two watchtowers, chains rattling from cages inside. I grinned. “Tempting. But honestly? I’ve snuck around enough back alleys in Chicago. I’m kinda over stealth today.”

  Veyra’s fangs flashed in a matching smile. “Good. I’m not in the mood to sneak either.”

  I drew my sword. She flexed her fingers, flame licking between them.

  “Let’s make it loud.”

  We stepped out of cover together.

  The first fireball came from Veyra, bright, controlled, slamming into the nearest watchtower. Wood exploded. Guards screamed. I charged the gate, sword already glowing with focused power. One swing cleaved through the lock. The doors burst open.

  Chaos.

  Veyra’s flames swept the perimeter, precise, never hitting captives. I moved through the encampment like a storm-sword flashing, guards dropping before they could scream. Cages rattled. Chains snapped under my strikes.

  Children wept with joy. Women clung to each other, tears streaming. Weak beastkin men roared in relief as collars shattered under Veyra’s touch. Every dark band she destroyed cracked like glass, memories of her own imprisonment fueling each strike.

  A young wolf-eared boy, no older than twelve, stared at the shattered collar pieces in his hands, then up at Veyra. “You… you’re really her. The Crimson Terror. They said you were dead. Lost in madness…”

  She knelt, voice gentle. “I was. But I came back. And so will you.”

  I pushed deeper into the caverns while Veyra stayed back, freeing the last of the surface prisoners.

  The tunnels stank of sweat, iron, and fear. Torches flickered. More guards, tougher ones, rushed me. I cut them down fast, clean. Swift. No hesitation. This wasn’t justice. It was necessity. Like the gang shootouts I’d seen back home, only one-sided. My side.

  At the end of the main shaft stood a mage in dark robes, three armored brutes at his sides. He sneered.

  “You’re too late, Butcher. The cargo’s already-”

  I didn’t let him finish. I blitzed the three minions first, sword through armor, precise, lethal. They dropped before they could swing.

  The mage snarled, raised both hands. Black energy surged. The fallen guards twitched, then rose, eyes glowing sickly green, wounds ignored. Necromancer.

  *Great.*

  They came at me again, relentless, regenerating. Their wounds didn’t bleed, they oozed black smoke that smelled like rot and old blood. Every time I cut one down, it twitched back up like a puppet with cut strings being yanked upright again.

  I gritted my teeth. *Think, Alex. Video games. What puts undead down for good?* I remember sinking in a lot of hours in many RPGs in video games, then it hit me. *Light. Restoration. Holy.*

  I focused, channeling power the way I’d learned in Valthar’s ruins. Light bloomed along the blade, bright, searing.

  One swing.

  The first risen guard burst into ash.

  *Bingo.*

  *Took you long enough, gamer brain,* the Author muttered. *I was about to start narrating tutorial tips.*

  *Shut up over there, I’m concentrating over here!*

  I tore through them, light-infused strikes turning rot to dust. The necromancer’s eyes widened.

  “No-!”

  Veyra appeared at the tunnel mouth, flame coiling around her like wings.

  He tried to teleport, black rift tearing open.

  Veyra was faster. She slammed her palm into his chest. Flame erupted inward. He screamed once, then silence.

  She grabbed him by the collar, lifted him off the ground. “Who captured them?” she demanded. “Who provides the collars? Who is behind it all?”

  The mage coughed blood. “I… I don’t know the master’s face. Messages come through scouts. Orders only. I’m just-”

  “Who betrayed Kharzad?” Veyra’s voice was ice.

  He laughed, wet, broken. “A noble… maybe. Or someone closer. Someone in the family. You’ll never know until it’s too late.”

  “And what about this so called cargo?” I asked him, remembering the words I had interrupted from earlier.

  “L-Last I heard, it was going to the kingdom…” He sounded defeated.

  “What does this cargo have?” Veyra continued her question.

  “The inhibitor collars.”

  Veyra’s flame flared.

  He burned. The cavern filled with his screams til no more.

  She dropped the charred body.

  I stepped up beside her, hand on her shoulder. “Hey.”

  She didn’t look at me at first. Then she did, eyes wet, furious, hurt. “He said… family.”

  I pulled her close. “We don’t know that yet. And even if it’s true, we’ll face it. Together. You saved these people today. That’s a win. A big one.”

  She exhaled shakily, leaning into me. “You’re right.”

  I tilted her chin up. “I’m always by your side. No matter what we find.”

  Veyra searched my face. Then, slowly, she leaned in and kissed me. Soft at first. Then deeper. Fierce. Grateful.

  When we broke apart, she rested her forehead against mine, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve lived centuries… and no one has ever made me feel this safe. Feel comfortable.”

  I smiled. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

  *Impressive efficiency, you two. Steamrolled an entire slaver camp in under an hour. I’m almost proud.*

  I groaned. “Read the room, man. We’re having a moment.”

  *The room is filled with dead bodies and freed captives. Like that’s gonna stop me.*

  I sighed. “Yeah. Whatever dude.”

  Veyra saw my discomfort. “He teasing you over there?”

  “Like always.”

  We turned back to the survivors, children clinging to parents, beastkin helping the weak to stand. One older draconoid man - scales dull from months underground, met Veyra’s eyes and bowed deeply. “The Emberheart line still burns true. Thank you Lady Veyra.”

  Veyra’s jaw tightened, but she nodded once. “You’re all my people, I’ll always come, protect and save you all.” She added.

  It was time to get them home. And time to start hunting the traitor in the shadows. Whatever, whoever, was waiting.

  We’d find them. Together.