The flames in Thornhaven began to die, leaving only embers and a suffocating silence. The villagers slowly emerged from their hiding places, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and terror as they saw Seris standing beside the dragon. The beast's golden eyes glinted, not with malice, but with something unreadable.
"Seris!" a voice called. It was Elda, the healer. She rushed forward, her hands trembling as she grabbed the girl's arm. "Are you hurt? What… what has it done to you?"
Before Seris could answer, the dragon's tail swept across the square, forcing Elda to step back. "Do not waste time with questions, mortal. The mark is a bond. She and I are now tied by fate, whether she wills it or not."
Seris glared at the dragon, her voice raw. "I didn't agree to this!"
The dragon rumbled, smoke curling from its nostrils. "Your consent was irrelevant. The storm coming will not ask for permission either."
"What storm?" Seris demanded.
The dragon tilted its head toward the distant silhouette of Mount Valtara. "Wolves and witches stir within the cursed woods. They rally under a banner of vengeance. And on the horizon, an ancient foe rises—one I cannot face alone."
Seris tightened her grip on her sword. "You expect me to fight with you? After all you've done?"
"You misunderstand," the dragon said, lowering its massive head to meet her gaze. "This isn't about what you or I want. The mark binds us. If I fall, so will you. If you fail, so will I. Survival demands cooperation."
The dragon's words left Seris cold. But before she could respond, a blood-chilling howl echoed from the forest. Then another, and another, until the night was alive with the sound of a hunting pack.
The villagers froze, their fear returning. "Wolves!" someone cried.
"Not ordinary wolves," the dragon said, its golden eyes narrowing. "These are Wyrmfangs—beasts born of dark magic."
Seris turned toward the treeline as glowing red eyes appeared in the shadows. The pack emerged, their massive forms covered in jet-black fur, and their jaws filled with unnaturally long fangs. Behind them stepped a figure cloaked in tattered robes, leaning on a staff twisted with blackened roots. A witch.
"So," the witch rasped, her voice echoing unnaturally. "The mighty dragon finds an unlikely ally. How quaint."
The dragon growled, its tail slamming the ground. "I have no time for your petty schemes, Enyx. Leave, or I'll burn your pack to ash."
Enyx smirked, her eyes gleaming with malice. "You think me foolish enough to challenge you alone? The pact is sealed, dragon. Your reign ends tonight." She raised her staff, and the wolves howled in unison, their forms warping. Their muscles swelled, their claws grew longer, and their eyes burned brighter.
Seris's heart raced. "We can't fight them all!"
"You will fight, or you will die," the dragon snapped. "Take the high ground. Let the mark guide you."
Before Seris could argue, the wolves charged. The dragon unleashed a torrent of fire, forcing the pack to scatter. Seris sprinted toward the remnants of the bell tower, her sword glinting in the firelight.
From her vantage point, she saw Enyx weaving dark magic, her staff glowing with sickly green light. Shadows swirled around her, and she began chanting an incantation.
"Seris!" the dragon roared. "The witch must fall!"
Steeling herself, Seris leapt from the tower, her blade slicing through the air. She landed amidst the wolves, her sword cleaving through one of the beasts as it lunged. Another wolf charged, but she ducked, slashing upward to catch it under the jaw.
The mark on her shoulder burned, and she felt an unnatural surge of energy course through her veins. Her movements were faster, her strikes more precise. She realized the bond with the dragon was more than a curse—it was power.
Meanwhile, the dragon roared and lashed out with its claws, scattering wolves like leaves. But the pack was relentless, their claws tearing at its scales.
Seris fought her way toward Enyx, who turned her attention to the girl. "So, the dragon's pet wants to play?" the witch sneered. She raised her staff, and vines erupted from the ground, snaking toward Seris.
Ducking and weaving, Seris closed the gap, her sword glowing faintly as the mark pulsed. With a defiant yell, she slashed at the staff, shattering it in two. The witch screamed as the vines withered, and the wolves faltered.
But before Seris could strike the final blow, Enyx vanished in a cloud of black smoke, her laughter echoing in the night. "This is only the beginning, girl."
The remaining wolves retreated into the forest, leaving the village in ruins.
Seris staggered back, her body trembling. The dragon loomed over her, blood dripping from its wounds.
"You fought well," it said, its voice low. "But the true battle lies ahead. The storm Enyx spoke of… it is real. And we are not prepared."
Seris looked at the glowing mark on her shoulder and then at the dragon. For the first time, she saw not a monster but an ally.
"Then we prepare," she said, her voice steady despite the fear in her heart.
The dragon nodded. "The wolves and witches are but pawns. The true enemy awaits. And if we are to survive, we must find the strength to face them together."
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