I’m struck by the brief but solemn nods they cast in my direction, the easing tension in their bodies. My people are respectful toward me but rarely relieved to see me.
I lean toward the darkness, half-expecting to see Iron Fae flying after my warriors, but it seems…
There are none left.
Only riderless birds remain, all of them fleeing to the east, careening wildly toward their home.
I turn my focus to the vampyrs, who are regrouping ahead of me. It appears the only reason they haven’t swarmed already is because of the carnage on the ground between here and the Iron Tower across the border.
Mounds of vampyrs have gathered around fallen fae and eagles, gorging on their blood.
A heavy silence descends, filled with soft murmurings.
I turn my hands over, palms up, gripping this moment of freedom, only the second time I’ve experienced liberty from fire in my entire life.
Once again, this experience confirms for me that the Oracle is the key to curing me.
If she breaks the curse that was cast over the original nation, splitting it into three kingdoms and casting us into war, she will break the curse of fire that controls me.
Now, the heat growing in my palms tells me my fire is returning.
For once, it’s a good thing.
I don’t wait for the vampyrs to come to me.
Striding to the northern side of the tower top, I leap from its edge, dropping all the way down to the ground, where I land lightly, knees bent, my feet crunching on soil that is both sandy and rocky now.
At the softthudof my landing, the nearest vampyrs crane upward, their faces covered in blood, their faces puffy with hydration, eyes gleaming, the yellowed wisps of their hair growing back before my eyes.
With blood comes revival and strength. A return to whatever form they held before they wasted away from starvation.
Now is not the time to wonder who the vampyrs used to be, if they were once fae, or what part of the curse created them and cast them into endless night.
I slip the satchel off my back and tuck it under my arm, under no illusions that the bag or my clothing will remain intact when my power ignites, but I won’t lose hold of the dragon’shide.
Then I walk toward the vampyrs, my power surging with every step I take.
Flames lick up my arms, my sleeves and cloak catch fire, and shimmering pieces of burning cloth fall about me, caught in the wind feeding my fire.
Lava drips from my fingertips as I gather my power, holding on to it tightly.
Still in control.
Such rare control.
Up ahead, the mounds of vampyrs separate, dark forms rising into the air. Through the darkness, I make out the silhouette of the nearest Iron Tower, glistening with gore.
Behind that…
More darkness.
More writhing creatures who won’t stop coming.
I wait for them to swarm, two swirls like flocks of birds spiraling toward me, more joining them from far away within the dark bloodlands.
I wait another heartbeat.
My smile grows.
