Something jolts through him. His eyes snap open, and for an instant they’re not his usual dark brown. They seem to flicker with subtle fissures of light, as though something ancient has split the surface. His breath rasps, caught between agony and release.
Suddenly the air hums. Something that feels like a low vibration rolls outward, rattling stones, rattling me. My teeth ache, my ribs shiver, the marrow of my bones seems to quake as if they’re resonating with his heartbeat.
The wyrm shrieks, jerking back, all three heads thrashing in confusion. Zeriel’s attention fixes on it with merciless precision, as if he’s trying to tunnel-focus the brunt of whatever it is he’s doing. The dragon’s crystalline plates tremble, fine cracks webbing across a stretch of scales.
Zeriel staggers, almost folding in on himself. Sweat glistens at his temple, and I realize his nose is bleeding. He stares at his hands like they’ve turned traitor.
“What… did I just?—”
The wyrm recovers, the left head spitting a stream of acid while the right launches a barrage of crystalline shards. Zeriel flinches, bracing while he ducks, and again the hum rolls out toward the dragon, but I feel its side-waves.
It vibrates through me. Gods, I canfeelit—him?—inside me, his power humming through bone and blood, terrifyingly intrusive, intimate, inescapable. It leaves me breathless, clutching at my sides.
“I can’t—control it,” he snarls, voice rough, as if vibrating with the same resonance tearing through the air.
I struggle to his side just as he drops on one knee.
The wyrm circles us, all three heads weaving hypnotically. I feel another attempt to push into its mind, but instead of forcing a connection, I try something different.
Ilisten. I let the chaotic fragments of its consciousness wash over me, seeking to understand instead of to control.
And there, beneath the cacophony, I finally sense it: three distinct personalities, like three separate consciousnesses forced to share one body. They're not fighting us. They're fighting each other, trapped in an endless struggle for dominance.
“It's not one dragon,” I tell Zeriel, my voice unsteady as the realization hits me. “It's three minds in one body. They're confused, frightened?—”
The beast lunges again, shards erupting from its central maw. Zeriel staggers upright, fists clenched, his whole frame trembling. The hum bursts raw and jagged, shattering half the shards in midair. The rest we duck. He sways, veins stark, breath ragged.
“You don’t need to fight it,” I say quickly. “We need to steady it.” I grab his shoulder.
The contact between us jolts through me like a spark. Instantly, I feel an external energy coursing through me. His energy. It’s amplifying, shifting. I gasp as something new stirs within the connection, like a bridge forming between his power and mine.A result of the spell Selen performed with us?
His jaw locks. His eyes blaze faintly. He nods—once.
“Trust me,” I whisper, and step forward.
“Veyra.” His voice rips out, raw with warning, but he follows, close enough that his breath grazes my neck.
I raise my hands, palms outward, and close my eyes. Still feeling a boost of Zeriel's energy humming through me, I try to project emotions instead of words: peace, calm, understanding. I visualize the three minds as separate entities, acknowledging each one individually.
The wyrm halts. All three heads cock in eerie unison. The central lowers, nostrils flaring as though tasting the air.
“That's it,” I murmur, taking another step forward. “You're safe. No one's going to hurt you.”
Zeriel’s presence is hot and magnetic at my back, but his energy feels like it’s grounding me.
The left head dips lower, eyes fixed on me. I sense curiosity replacing fear, a willingness to listen. The right head remains wary, but its aggression dulls.
“They respond to different emotions,” I tell Zeriel softly. “The left head to curiosity, the right to caution, the center to strength. We need to show them all three.”
“How?” Zeriel’s voice is taut, hoarse.
“Follow my lead.”
I take another step forward, then kneel, making myself smaller, non-threatening to the cautious right head. At the same time, I maintain eye contact with the central head, projecting confidence and strength without aggression.
“Now,” I whisper to Zeriel, “try to show the left head something interesting. Can you use your… energy, but gently?”
Zeriel hesitates, then chest heaving, lifts a crystal shard from the ground. He simply holds it for a moment, as if he himself wonders what he’s going to do. It vibrates faintly in his grip, as if singing, the energy causing it to shift from amber to emerald to sapphire to crimson.
