The forest was a living thing.
Not in the way cities were alive, but in the way of old, forgotten places. The trees stood like sentinels, their gnarled roots twisting through the earth like veins. The air was thick with the scent of damp soil and decaying leaves, a musk that clung to the back of Eryk's throat. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in fractured beams, painting the ground in shifting patterns of gold and shadow.
It should have been beautiful.
Instead, it was suffocating.
Sera kicked a rock, sending it skittering into the underbrush with a thud.
"This is ridiculous!" she muttered, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "We've been walking for days. Days! And what do we have to show for it? Blisters. Bugs. And this gods-damned forest that never ends."
Eryk didn't answer. He'd learned early on that responding only made her angrier.
The dragon padded alongside him, its molten-bronze scales glinting in the dappled light. It had grown in just a few days, its body longer, its wings stronger. Now, it moved with a predator's grace, its golden eyes scanning the trees like it expected something to leap out at them.
Sera shot it a glare. "And you! Stop looking at me like that!"
Ares blinked slowly, then deliberately turned its head away, as if dismissing her.
Sera's eye twitched.
Eryk sighed. "We'll find it."
"Find what?" Sera whirled on him, her knife already in her hand, though whether she intended to use it on him or just wave it threateningly was unclear. "The Court of Thorns? The place you don't even know how to get to? The place that might not even exist?"
"It exists!" Eryk said.
"Oh, really?" Sera's voice dripped with sarcasm. "And how do you know that? Did Riven—that old, half-dead Spellbreaker—give you a map? Some grand clue? Or did he just point vaguely into the distance and say, 'Good luck, idiot'?"
Eryk's jaw tightened. "He told me enough."
"Enough?" Sera laughed, a bitter, jagged sound. "Enough to get us lost in the middle of nowhere? Enough to starve to death before we ever see civilization again?"
Ares let out a low growl with its tail lashing.
Sera pointed her knife at it. "Don't even start with me, you overgrown lizard!"
Eryk exhaled, long and slow, and reached into his pocket. "Here."
Sera's eyes flicked to his hand. "What?"
He pulled out the earth mana core—a small, smooth stone, its surface swirling with veins of emerald and ochre. It pulsed faintly in his palm, steady.
Sera froze.
Her breath hitched, just slightly, but Eryk caught it.
"You…" She stared at the core, her fingers twitching like she wanted to snatch it but couldn't quite bring herself to. "Where did you get that?"
"Riven," Eryk said. "I asked him for it. For you."
Sera's throat worked. "Why?"
Eryk shrugged.
"Because you missed the dragon hatching. You missed Ares' hatch. And because…" He hesitated. "I thought it might make the trip less miserable."
For a second, Sera didn't move. Then, slowly, she reached out, her fingers brushing the core. The moment she touched it, her entire posture shifted. The tension in her shoulders eased, just a fraction. Her scowl softened.
"It's… warm," she murmured.
Eryk nodded. "Earth cores are stable. They don't burn out like fire or fade like wind. They just… endure."
Sera's grip tightened around the core, and her knuckles are whitening. Then, abruptly, her expression darkened again. "Wait. You named the dragon Ares?"
Eryk blinked. "Yeah?"
"Ares." She said it slowly, like she was tasting the word. Then her eyes narrowed. "That's just 'Sera' backwards, you bastard!"
Eryk opened his mouth—to defend himself, to explain, to maybe apologize—but Sera was already swinging her pack at his head.
The impact sent him sprawling into the dirt, his vision swimming. The bag was heavier than it looked—probably stuffed with every piece of scrap metal and stolen gold Sera had ever hoarded.
"Ow!!" Eryk groaned, rubbing his temple.
Sera loomed over him, her shadow cutting across his face. "You're an idiot!"
Ares chirped in agreement.
Eryk sighed and pushed himself up. "I was trying to be nice."
"Nice?" Sera scoffed. "Nice would've been not dragging me into this mess in the first place!"
Eryk didn't argue. There was no winning with her when she was like this.
He brushed the dirt off his clothes and held out his hand for the earth core.
"Can I have that back?"
Sera clutched it to her chest. "No."
Eryk raised an eyebrow.
"It's mine now," she said stubbornly. "Payment for putting up with you."
Before Eryk could respond, the underbrush rustled.
All three of them snapped to attention.
The forest had gone eerily quiet. No birds. No insects. Just the whisper of leaves and the faint, too-close sound of footsteps.
Sera's grip on her knife tightened. "Someone's here."
Eryk nodded, his pulse quickening. The void in his chest stirred, restless.
Then, a figure burst from the trees, colliding with Eryk's back with enough force to send him face-first into the dirt again. The earth core slipped from Sera's fingers, tumbling through the air, and it vanished into the void swirling in Eryk's chest.
Sera's scream of rage was cut short as she registered the newcomer.
A girl.
Small, delicate, with pointed ears peeking through tangled silver-blonde hair. Her wrists were bound with rough rope, the skin beneath raw and bleeding. Her dress was torn and dirt-streaked, and it was hung off her frame like a shroud.
She was sobbing.
Eryk pushed himself up, spitting out a mouthful of leaves. "What the—?"
The girl flinched, her wide, amber eyes darting between them in terror.
"P-Please," she gasped, her voice trembling. "Don't let them take me!"
Sera was already moving, her knife flashing as she stepped between the girl and the trees. "Who's 'them'?"
The answer came in the form of three men emerging from the shadows.
They were rough-looking, their faces scarred, their clothes worn but sturdy. The kind of men who made a living in the spaces between law and survival. The leader—a broad-shouldered brute with a broken nose—smirked when he saw them.
"Well, well!" he drawled. "Looks like our little rabbit found some friends."
The girl shrank behind Sera, her fingers clutching at the back of her shirt.
Sera didn't look at her. Her eyes were locked on the men, her stance low and ready.
"You lost?" she asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
The leader chuckled. "Not as lost as you're about to be, girlie."
Eryk stepped forward, his hands flexing at his sides.
"What do you want with her?"
The man's grin widened. "Business. Nothing personal."
The girl'a voice was a whisper. "They took me from the Flower Festival. They're going to sell me to the Veldros circus."
Sera's expression darkened.
The leader shrugged. "Elf ears fetch a pretty price. Especially pretty ones like hers!"
That was all the warning they got.
The men moved as one, blades flashing.
Sera met them head-on.
She was a whirlwind of steel and fury, her knife slicing through flesh and tendon with brutal precision. The first man went down with a scream, his Achilles severed. The second barely had time to raise his sword before Sera's boot connected with his knee, buckling it sideways with a sickening crack.
The third—the leader—lunged at her, his dagger aimed for her throat.
Sera twisted, her own knife flashing up. And she stopped, the tip pressed against the man's jugular.
He froze, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Sera's voice was ice. "Try again. I dare you."
The man swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing against the blade.
Behind them, the girl let out a shaky breath. Ares, meanwhile, had positioned himself beside her, his wings slightly spread, as if ready to shield her if needed.
Eryk stepped forward, his gaze locked on the leader.
"Who sent you?"
The man's lips curled. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Sera pressed the knife harder.
"Answer him!"
The man's bravado faltered.
"No one sent us. We're freelancers. Heard there was coin in exotic pets." His eyes flicked to the girl. "Didn't realize she'd be so much trouble."
The girl shuddered.
Sera's grip on her knife tightened. For a moment, Eryk thought she might slit the man's throat then and there.
Then she exhaled and stepped back, lowering her blade. "Get out of here. Before I change my mind."
The man didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled back, dragging his wounded companions with him, their curses fading into the trees.
Silence settled over the clearing.
The gi sank to her knees, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
"Th-Thank you," she whispered.
Sera wiped her knife clean on her pants and sheathed it. "Don't mention it."
Eryk crouched beside the girl, gently untying the ropes around her wrists.
"Are you hurt?"
She shook her head, though the raw marks on her skin said otherwise. "I'm… I'm okay."
Ares nudged her shoulder with his snout, a soft whine in his throat.
The girl blinked at him, then at Eryk. "You have a dragon."
Eryk nodded. "His name's Ares."
The girl's lips quirked, just slightly. "That's a good name!"
Sera muttered something under her breath.
Eryk ignored her. "You said they took you from the Flower Festival?"
The girl nodded. "Yes. In my homeland."
Sera crossed her arms. "And where's that?"
The girl looked up, her amber eyes glinting in the fading light.
"The Court of Thorns."
The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
Eryk and Sera exchanged a glance.
Ares let out a low, satisfied rumble.
Sera groaned. "Of course."
Eryk couldn't help the small smile tugging at his lips.
Looks like they'd found their guide.