‘Alright, alright, we’ll head back.’
Kaelis shoved him once more, this time so forcefully he nearly toppled forward.
‘What in the…?’
Before he could finish, Kaelis released a screech so sharp and shrill it echoed through the stone like thunder. Then she sprang into the air, wings slicing through the wind, diving swiftly towards a narrow crevice between the hills. Kai scrambled to his feet, following her path with narrowed eyes. And that’s when he saw it.
A portion of the ground had caved in, revealing a yawning chasm beneath, blacker than midnight. But within that abyss, flickering faint and green…
A glimmer of light.
Kai didn’t hesitate. He trusted the phoenix to catch him.
He jumped.
The air rushed past him, his heart hammering not from the fall, but from something far worse.
Fear.
Fear of what he might find buried beneath the earth.
Was she there? Trapped? Broken?
Dead?
The very notion tightened around his throat like a noose, threatening to steal the breath from his lungs.
Kai landed hard atop the phoenix’s back, and Kaelis plunged, wings folding, diving through the shattered earth into the abyss below. Down, down they went, swallowed whole by shadow.
They touched down upon stone, cold and unyielding, and Kai leapt off the phoenix without hesitation. His breath caught at the sight before him.
Across the cavernous expanse, a ghostly green orb hoveredin mid-air, casting its eerie light over a figure crumpled beneath it.
Kai’s black wyverian heart stuttered in his chest.
He surged forward, every muscle taut with panic, until he dropped to his knees beside her. Dawn lay still, her form curled gently on her side. Motionless.
He gathered her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as though he might somehow shield her from the cruelty of the world. Her eyes remained closed, lashes dark against her cheeks, and it took but a glance for him to spot her leg, twisted at a grotesque angle, unmistakably broken.
‘Wake up,’ he rasped, voice frayed with dread. ‘Damn it, witch, wake up.’
But she didn’t stir.
Leaning close, he pressed his ear to her parted lips. A breath. Faint, but steady. Relief swept through him in a wave so fierce it left him trembling. Gently, he eased her back into his embrace, brushing damp strands of white hair from her brow with a touch uncharacteristically tender.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, pulling her closer, as if the very nearness of her might undo what had been done. ‘I’m so sorry. Please… come back to me.’
He closed his eyes.
And prayed.
For the first time in years, perhaps ever, Kai Blackburn uttered words not of war or command, but of desperate, unfiltered hope. He whispered to gods he no longer believed in. To fate, to destiny, to anything out there that might still show mercy.
‘I’m sorry,’ he breathed into the darkness, into her hair, into the stillness itself. ‘Please, be okay. I’m sorry.’
A pause.
Then…
