Page 21 of The Last Syphon

Felix, Rafe, Zave, Lina, and a few others with offensive abilities stood in front of the village, staring straight ahead at the impending doom about to take them over. Inara took a deep breath to calm and centre herself, then made her way over to them. Her eyes ran over the hundreds of Arelian soldiers standing at the edge of the Borderlands.

Icy-cold fear froze her dead on the spot.

The portal was now gone, and they were all just standing there as if they were waiting for something—or, the more terrifying thought…someone.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Fraener’s mind slithered against hers, offering comfort as he took up position behind her.

“Oh, we’re so fucked,” Felix said under his breath.

“We’ll be fine.” No, we won’t. “We just need to stick together.” It won’t make a difference. “And, everything will be okay.” BULLSHIT.

Through the soul-link with Fraener, Inara sensed his unease, his trepidation. He was high on alert, this burning anger running through her veins emanating from him at the threat before them.

Venerable Cias wobbled up to her side, and she gave him a reprimanding glare. “You should be underground with the others.”

“Do not insult me, girl. I may be old, but I can still put you down.”

Really? She was tempted to kick that cane keeping him upright out of his hand to prove that was, in fact, not true, but thought better of it.

“Inara,” Felix hissed. “They’re moving.” He reached behind his back and pulled out his sword, carving it through the air.

In perfect synchronisation, the Arelian soldiers marched forward and officially crossed into the Borderlands. Fraener fanned out his massive wings and roared—a deep, beastly sound filled with menace and warning. It made the ground tremble beneath their feet.

The soldiers stopped, hesitating to move another inch.

Inara smirked, reaching back to run a hand down one of Fraener’s powerful legs.

My dragon is bad-fucking-ass.

Fraener lowered his neck. Gold and black swirled in his eyes. An image appeared in her mind of her sitting on his back. It was there one second and then gone the next, disappearing in a flash. Inara frowned. It happened so quickly, she couldn’t help but question what it was. Whether or not she had imagined it.

Fraener continued to stare deep into her eyes. That image pushed its way into her mind again and stayed longer. She definitely wasn’t imagining it. Fraener was somehow shoving it into her head. The dragon was communicating with her, showing her what he wanted since he couldn’t say it with words.

Kind of freaky, but she could roll with it.

Inara shook her head. “I shouldn’t. I don’t want the others to think I’m just going to fly off and abandon them, especially when this whole thing is my fault.”

He huffed angrily, smoke billowing out of his nostrils, and stamped his foot on the ground. He bent his neck once more, demanding she climb on.

She shook her head again. “No⁠—”

He took matters into his own hands. Or paws. Whatever. Do dragons have paws? He plucked Inara off her feet by the back of her cloak and put her on his back himself.

“Hey!”

His body shook, and she reared forward, reaching for the two small spikes that ran along his spine so she didn’t fall off and break her Fatesdamned neck.

“Damn it, Fraener! You can’t just—” Her words cut off with a sharp gasp when she caught a glimpse of the Arelian Army. From her position, she was able to get a proper look at them, and…My Fates.

There were a lot more than she had originally thought.

Thousands. At least.

We. Are. So. Fucked.

Inara froze, paralysed by the magnitude of what was before her. Any deaths that happened would be because of her. Because of her recklessness. Her inability to think things through.