Squeezing his eyes shut, Theo curled into a ball. Each impact as the spikes struck the ground shook in his bones, thud-thud-thud like a drumbeat. Suddenly a shadow fell over him and he heard a low grunt and a resounding clang.
Theo's eyes flew open. His gaze locked with Sir Zenith's. The knight leaned over him, so close their noses almost brushed while his hair pooled across Theo's chest. His shield was raised at an awkward angle, giving Theo a frighteningly clear view of its cracked, dented surface.
This close, Theo realized how young the knight must be, only a couple years older than him at most. Yet while his face was tired and drawn, his eyes remained hard with resolve. A resolve that refused to bend for anything.
A hot tide of shame swept through Theo's stomach. For the second time since this insanity had started Zenith was risking his life protecting him, and all Theo could do was lie there like a dead fish.
Just like five years ago, standing still and watching as his brother walked away, unable to even beg him to come back.
Who cared if he'd dyed his hair and gotten piercings and started shopping at Hot Topic. It was just a surface makeover. In his core, he hadn't changed. He was still that frightened, useless little kid.
Rage flared inside him, and with it came the warmth from before. It surged through his entire body just like when he'd entered the arena - no, even brighter, even hotter. Dimly he heard shouting voices, the dragon shriek, but none of it mattered compared to the light racing through his veins.
He could see it now, creeping into the edges of his vision like the rising sun. Zenith's eyes widened, reflecting the rosy glow. Theo felt as if he was staring at the dawn sky, the same sky that felt so much like home in his dreams.
It was the same, wasn't it? This serenity. Everything else fell aside - the arena, the dragon. Right now it was just Theo and Zenith, and the power, the light, pulsing in slow waves between the two of them.
Trembling, Theo lifted his hands. He rested them on the sides of Zenith's face, registering how smooth the knight's skin felt. Zenith didn't move; he seemed frozen in shock.
Theo had no idea what he was doing either. But he knew one thing: he wasn't going to stand back silently this time.
He closed his eyes, and out of the darkness a diagram appeared, every line sharp and crisp. Earlier, Sam had called this same diagram an ultimate final spell.
Theo didn't know if it was, but he'd give it a try. This power lived inside of him, and so did these diagrams. Maybe it was time to put them to use.
The power exploded outward, knocking Zenith away from him. The loss of contact made Theo cry out, but when his eyes flew open he saw the ground around him was blazing with light.
Heart hammering, unable to believe what he was seeing, Theo climbed up to his knees. A circular diagram surrounded him, just like the one that had brought him here. But instead of scarlet, its lines glowed dawn pink, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Zenith stood upon it too, looking as stunned as Theo felt. He looked down and Theo up, and when their eyes met Theo felt something shudder and snap between them, like a rope pulled taut.
A connection? Theo didn't understand it, but he felt it more than clearly when his power met Zenith's. His dawn glow brushed against something harder, sharper, like a beam of light refracted through a crystal. An unyielding resolve. It gave Theo the strength to rise to his feet, and he sensed that his power was flowing through Zenith as well, washing away his exhaustion too.
"This is...a contract," Zenith whispered, soft with awe. "How...."
The light flared, then vanished. But the connection between them remained. Theo felt it with every breath he drew, every beat of his heart. Like a door inside him had opened and would never close again.
Zenith dropped his gaze, pressed a hand to his chest. Then he sank to one knee and planted his sword vertically before him. "You are my wizard, the lord to whom I swear my loyalty as a familiar. Give me your charge and I shall fulfill it to the utmost of my ability."
Wizard? Familiar? None of this made any sense, but Theo didn't have time to puzzle it out. Not when the dragon was still circling above, its shadow sliding across them like a threatening cloud.
"Sir Zenith," he said, amazed at how clear and confident his voice came out. "Let's beat that dragon!"
"By your will, my lord." Zenith bowed low before drawing his sword and flowing to his feet. He turned toward the black-haired boy, who was watching the scene in silent awe. "My liege."
The boy nodded. With that, Zenith took off. Theo's breath caught as Zenith leaped into the air, his hair flashing like white gold in the sunlight. A single bound sent him soaring above the dragon, so high Theo almost lost sight of him, but their connection never wavered. Theo knew exactly where Zenith was, and exactly what he intended to do.
The dragon reared, jaws open, but Zenith easily dodged and slashed across its exposed underside. Theo's heart jumped into his throat when a trail of shrieking sparks followed Zenith's sword. Even now, Zenith couldn't cut the dragon's hide?
"Cast a spell. Augment his sword," the boy said behind Theo. Theo spun to face him.
"What do you mean?"
"You're his wizard now," the boy said, hands on his hips. "You're the only one who can do it."
'How?' Theo wanted to protest, but he already knew. A spell. Like the diagram that had brought him to the arena, the one that had bound him to Zenith. He might not understand what they meant, but he knew them almost as intimately as his own self.
Once more Theo closed his eyes and allowed a diagram to drift from his subsconscious. As it grew clearer, he used the light to trace its lines and symbols.
When warmth spread beneath his feet, he knew he had succeeded. Opening his eyes, he saw that Zenith had landed on the ground and a matching diagram had appeared beneath him. Not a moment too soon. The dragon was furiously flapping, prepared to unleash another hail of spikes.
But Zenith wasn't afraid, and neither was Theo. Because light was glowing inside Zenith's sword, as if the metal blade had transformed into a piece of the sun itself.
Shrieking, the dragon released its spikes.
Zenith was ready. He swung the sword and to Theo's amazement, waves of light surged from the blade and sliced apart the incoming spikes as if they were made of tissue paper. Even as the dragon fired more spikes, the waves kept spreading like ripples in a pool, knocking them all aside.
Zenith took off running, sword raised. The dragon folded its wings back and dove, jaws wide open, prepared to devour him if it couldn't skewer him. 'But that's not going to happen,' Theo thought, his heart pounding from both his and Zenith's excitement.
Zenith leaped, sword flashing in a dazzling arc across the dragon's stomach. Dark spots danced in Theo's eyes.
When Zenith landed, the dragon came plummeting too. The crash seemed to echo for miles and the impact rocked the ground like a wave, turning Theo's legs into jelly. He tumbled onto his knees.
But he struggled to keep his head up, not wanting to take his eyes off Zenith. At first he saw only the dust clouds billowing around the fallen dragon, but gradually a tall silhouette began to emerge.
By the time Zenith stopped in front of him, Theo's entire body ached as if he'd just run three consecutive marathons, which didn't make sense. It wasn't like he'd been fighting.
But he'd been the one sending Zenith his power. Now that he tried reaching for it, he realized he could only feel a tiny spark.
"My lord!" Zenith's voice sounded oddly faint. His hands closed around Theo's shoulders, his armor soothingly cool, and Theo gave in to his weakness and collapsed against Zenith's chest.
Footsteps crunching in the dirt. A woman's voice, breathless. "What exactly happened here? Who is this boy?"
"Sir Zenith's wizard, apparently." The black-haired boy's husky voice. "I suppose congratulations are in order, Sir."
"Thank you, my liege. But I believe he is the one who deserves them most." Zenith pulled Theo closer. Enclosed within his arms, Theo felt safe and secure. While he had the dim sense that Zenith might be talking to him, Theo could no longer make out any words, just the low tones of his voice.
It was as comforting as his touch. Theo let his eyes fall shut and drifted away into the gentle darkness.