Isabel slowly opened her eyes, groaning as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. She lay on a small bed in a plain room, the only light coming from a narrow slit of a window high on the wall. The sun's rays streamed through, casting a warm glow that contrasted sharply with the cold, damp air. The scent of moss and earth filled her nostrils, reminding her of the forest she had been in.
She pushed herself up, wincing at the soreness in her muscles. Her head throbbed, and her vision blurred for a moment before clearing. As she looked around, memories of the battle in the dark forest came rushing back. The surge of ancient magic, the blinding light, Pyraxor's pained cries—it all hit her like a tidal wave.
"Rax…" she whispered, panic rising as she remembered her dragon. She looked around frantically, but there was no sign of him. The room was bare, with only the bed, a wooden chair, and a small table. The walls were made of rough stone, and there were no doors in sight.
"Pyraxor, where are you?" she called out, her voice echoing off the stone walls. Isabel's heart pounded in her chest as she tried to stand, her legs trembling beneath her. She stumbled to the window, standing on her toes to peer outside, but all she could see was the blue sky and the tops of distant trees.
"Where am I?" she muttered, her voice filled with confusion and fear. She turned her attention to her wrist, where the dragon mark had always been—a symbol of her bond with Pyraxor. But as she stared, her blood ran cold. The mark was gone. The skin was smooth and unblemished, as if the bond had never existed.
"No, no, no," she whispered, her breath hitching. "This can't be happening." She rubbed her wrist, hoping the mark would reappear, but nothing changed. The realization that her connection to Pyraxor was severed filled her with despair.
"Pyraxor!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. "Where are you?!" Her cries echoed back at her, mocking her solitude. Isabel sank to the floor, her back against the wall. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she hugged her knees to her chest. She felt a deep emptiness where the bond with Pyraxor had once been, a void that left her feeling lost and alone.
"What did I do?" she cried softly, her voice breaking. "How did I lose him?" The ancient magic she had unleashed felt like a distant dream, a power she barely understood. Had it been too much for their bond to withstand? Had she somehow caused this separation?
Her mind raced with questions and fears. The thought of Pyraxor suffering somewhere, alone and weakened, tore at her heart. She clenched her fists, anger mingling with her sorrow. "I have to find him," she vowed, determination hardening her resolve. "I can't let this be the end."
But the confusion of how she ended up in this strange room gnawed at her. Who had brought her here? Were they friend or foe? She needed answers, but more than anything, she needed to know Pyraxor was safe.
Isabel's thoughts spiraled as she tried to piece together what had happened. She remembered the battle, the dark Keepers, the poison that had weakened Pyraxor. She remembered the burst of magic, the blinding light that had consumed everything. But how had she ended up here, alone and without her dragon?
"Why is this happening?" she whispered, her voice trembling with frustration. "What did I do wrong?" Her tears flowed freely now, each drop a testament to her fear and confusion. She had always been strong, always been able to face any challenge. But this—this was different. This felt like her entire world was crumbling around her.
She slammed her fist against the stone floor, the pain grounding her in the moment. "I won't give up," she declared, her voice steady despite the tears. "I will find you, Pyraxor. I promise."
Isabel forced herself to stand, her legs still shaky. She walked to the small table, hoping to find something—anything—that could give her a clue about where she was. But the table was bare, and her frustration only grew.
"Think, Isabel," she muttered to herself. "There has to be a way out of here." She paced the room, her eyes darting to every corner, every stone, searching for an escape. But there was nothing. No hidden doors, no secret passages. Just the window, high and out of reach.
She returned to the bed, sitting down heavily. The weight of her situation pressed down on her, threatening to crush her spirit. "I need you, Rax," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I can't do this alone."
As the minutes ticked by, Isabel tried to calm her racing thoughts. She closed her eyes, taking deep, steady breaths. She needed to stay focused, needed to find a way to escape and reunite with Pyraxor.
"Think of the bond," she told herself. "You still have a connection, even if the mark is gone." She placed her hand over her heart, where she could feel a faint, almost imperceptible tug—a reminder of the bond that had once been so strong.
But the more she thought about it, the colder the realization became. The dragon mark could only disappear if one of them died. The weight of this knowledge settled heavily in her chest, making it hard to breathe. If the mark was gone, then Pyraxor...
"No," she choked out, tears streaming down her face. "He can't be gone. He can't be." The possibility of his death was too much to bear, the pain too immense to comprehend. She felt as if her heart had been ripped from her chest.
"Pyraxor!" she screamed again, her voice raw with anguish. "Please, no!" She curled up on the bed, sobs wracking her body. The emptiness inside her seemed to grow, a gaping wound that refused to heal.
The room around her was silent, offering no comfort, no answers. Isabel lay there, her tears soaking into the thin mattress. She felt utterly alone, the bond that had given her strength now a painful reminder of what she had lost.
"I have to find him," she whispered through her tears, her voice barely a breath. "I have to know. I can't just believe he's gone." The determination in her heart flickered weakly, but it was there, a small flame refusing to be extinguished.
Isabel slowly sat up, wiping her tears away. She forced herself to think, to plan. There had to be a way out of this room, a way to find out what had happened. She wouldn't let herself give in to despair. Not yet.
She walked back to the window, looking out at the blue sky. "I will find you, Rax," she vowed, her voice filled with a quiet, fierce resolve. "And if you're gone... I'll make those who did this pay. I promise you that."