We tracked it wrong from the beginning.
I knew it before the first hour had passed before Vargen's voice grew louder, before the men began trading knowing looks and forced confidence. The signs were there in the forest. Broken branches too high for a bear. Scorched bark that did not spread like wildfire but stopped too neatly. Tracks that vanished where the ground should have held them.
Vargen ignored all of it. I'd told them of my vision but Vargen would choose to ignore it over entertaining the possibility that I might know more than he does.
He strode ahead as if the forest owed him a clear path, sword loose in his grip, issuing orders that sounded rehearsed. Formation changes for threats we hadn't confirmed.
The others followed. Not because they believed him but because disagreeing meant standing beside me.
I fell back into my usual place, silent and observant, adjusting my pace to keep the rear clean. Kiera was brushing against Vargen every 30 seconds Vargen rewarded her by groping her. The men joked softly, tension disguised as bravado, their eyes occasionally lingering on my armor, my body, never my blade. I brought up the rear, silent as smoke. I wore black leather, blending perfectly with the twilight shadows. While the men wore heavy steel that clanked with every step, my gear was taped and oiled for silence. I carried no oversized weapons just two slightly curved daggers sheathed at the small of my back, a bandolier of throwing knives, a harpoon across my back and a compact, high-tension wrist crossbow. My training in the Whispering Guild had taught me one immutable truth: arrogance is a death sentence. The silence here wasn't empty; it was expectant.
We moved single file through the trees, Vargen at the front like a banner that demanded attention.
"The tracks are fresh," he announced, crouching over a churn of mud that had been trampled by half the team moments earlier. "Heavy. Clumsy. Whatever it is, it's tired."
I slowed, studying the ground from where I was positioned near the rear.
"They're layered," I said calmly. "Old ones beneath."
No one answered.
Except for Vargen after sometime, already moving. "So what? Means it's circling back. Common predator behavior." he grumbled
I sighed, "Actua–"
Jerrik, broad glanced my way, lips twitching.
"Hagar, please." he whined, looking at the sky, acting dramatically exasperated. "It won't hurt to be quiet. You might spook it."
I didn't respond.
They pushed deeper. The forest thickened, branches knitting overhead. Light thinned into bands and shards.
I adjusted the strap of my pack. If they won't believe my visions maybe logic would work.
"There are scorches like these on barks everywhere," I said after a moment. "But it always stops clean. Fire doesn't behave like that."
Vargen didn't turn. "Old lightning strike."
"In summer?" I ask incredulously.
This time he did look back smiling, indulgent.
"You worry too much."
Filk laughed softly.
Kiera added, throwing her arm round Vargen. "She's thorough. Gotta admire that."
Their eyes lingered. I kept mine on the trees.
They paused near a clearing. Vargen motioned for a perimeter.
"Hagar," he said without looking at me, "take rear watch."
Of course.
I moved where indicated, crouching near a fallen log. The wood was blackened on one side, the burn line unnaturally neat. I brushed my fingers against it, then stopped myself. Not now.
Voices carried faintly ahead.
"So what do you think it is?" Filk asked.
"Big," Vargen replied. "Some large beast. Might be some trick of alchemy. Scholars like their toys. If it bleeds it can die."
"And the fire?" Filk asked.
"Some villager must've dropped a torch. Or lightning, like I said before." our wise xaptain proclaimed.
I rose and approached, slow and deliberate, trying to appeal to whatever reason he possessed.
"Vargen?" I said as sweetly as I could manage. "If it were alchemy, we'd see potion residue."
Vargen tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe you're not searching hard enough. Do your job, Hagar."
A ripple of amusement.
Jerik grinned. "Don't be too hard of her, Vargen. She might run and tell daddy."
I met Vargen's eyes, unflinching. "It doubled back without leaving drag marks. That means— "
"That it's clever," Vargen finished, nodding. "Yes, yes. We've established that. Which is why we keep moving."
He clapped his hands once. "Eyes forward."
They obeyed.
Not because he was right but because hierarchy was easier than questioning authority. This beast was strange, calculative and unlike anything I had faced before. I couldn't shake off the dread that we were severely under-prepared.
As we advanced, I noticed the silence growing. No birds. No insects. Even our footfalls sounded too loud in the silence.
I slowed again.
"Vargen," I said evenly. "Something is coming."
That earned me a pause.
He turned halfway, eyebrow raised. "From where?"
I gestured not behind us, not ahead, but above.
A dark cloud moved across the sky.
Before I could say more, Filk leaned closer, voice low.
"Relax, Hagar," he said. "You'll get your moment, yeah? When, I started—"
His hand brushed my elbow.
I stepped away.
Vargen exhaled, clearly impatient. "You're just jumpy. That's normal. Stay alert."
He turned back to the path.
I stayed where I was for half a heartbeat longer, scanning the sky.
The hairs on my arms stood straight up. It wasn't magic; it was the displacement of air pressure. Something massive was moving above us.
I opened my mouth to speak again
And the world exploded behind me, right where the rest of the team was.
The fire came from above.
The forest split.
Something vast blanketed most of the sun, its movement impossibly silent for its size. The air warped around it, heat crashing into cold, embers scattering as it slammed into the back line. Formation collapsed in seconds.
I hissed, dropping into a crouch and rolling behind a slab of granite.
There was no roar. That was the first sign this creature was different. The attack came in terrifying silence. A massive shape descended, plummeting not like a rock, but like a diving hawk. Its scales were the color of oxidized copper and obsidian.
The beast slammed into the center of the formation with the force of a falling meteorite. The ground shuddered violently. A shockwave of dust and pulverized rock exploded outward.
I turned just in time to see Kiera lifted off her feet like a doll, thrown hard enough to vanish into the trees.
The monster was larger than rumor had promised. More terrifying than my vision.
A beast shaped by intent. Its body moved with control muscle folding beneath gold and black scales, wings half-unfurled. Fire licked along its spine.
Vargen charged.
It was the worst possible choice.
Flik was launched backward, his crossbow firing uselessly into the air before he slammed into a canyon wall with a sickening crunch. He crumpled, unmoving.
"Spread out! Flank it, damn you!" Vargen bellowed, his voice tight with sudden adrenaline.
The dragon rose on its hind legs, towering twenty feet high. It was large, impossibly so but it moved fast for its size. Its eyes were the colour of molten gold and larger in size than a human head. It looked at Vargen, then immediately snapped its head toward Jerrik, assessing threats. It ignored the crumpled Filk in plate armor and focused on the man with the reach weapon.
Jerrik charged, bellowing a war cry to cover his fear, thrusting the halberd at the beast's underbelly.
The dragon didn't just recoil; it feinted. It dropped its shoulder, letting the spear tip graze its hardened flank scales with a shower of sparks. As Jerrik overextended, the dragon pivoted on one clawed foot, its massive tail whipping around with the speed and sound of a cracking whip.
The tail struck Jerrik mid-chest. His breastplate caved in like tin. He was flung fifty feet across the clearing, landing in a broken heap among the trees.
Two down in ten seconds.
"Face me, you oversized newt!" Vargen yelled upon reaching the beast, his greatsword raised.
I watched from my cover, my breathing controlled, my mind dissecting the beast. It's too fast for heavy weapons. It prioritized the ranged threat first, then the reach weapon. It's thinking. It's herding us.
The dragon dropped to all fours to meet Vargen's charge. Vargen swung a mighty, decapitating blow. The dragon raised a forearm, catching the blade on scales thicker than any shield. The impact rang like a church bell.
Then, the dragon smiled. A genuine, reptilian curling of lips exposing rows of serrated teeth.
It opened its maw, but instead of a gout of chaotic fire, it unleashed a concentrated, pressurized neat stream of white-hot plasma. It was a lance of heat. It struck Vargen right on his shield. When the fire was gone, so was his shield... and his arm. The captain didn't even have time to scream before he was passed out.
The dragon cut the stream off instantly. Silence returned to the woods, save for the crackle of nearby weeds.
The glowing red orange eyes scanned the clearing. It knew we were Five. Thankfully, Kiera was nowhere to be seen.
I remained perfectly still behind the granite slab. I knew it could probably smell me, but my Guild training allowed me to slow my heart rate, to push my terror into a small, locked box in my mind.
The dragon began to prowl. It didn't stomp; it stalked, its massive claws placing silently on the rock. It moved with the fluid grace of a panther. It was hunting me.
It looked like a reptile, it must rely on sight, smell and taste, I analyzed. The scales are impenetrable to standard strikes. The eyes are vulnerable, but it protects them with thick ridges. The underbelly is armored. The joints… the wing joints are thinner.
The beast passed my hiding spot. It paused, its snout wrinkling, tasting the air. It whipped its head around, staring directly at the granite slab.
Now.
I moved with explosive speed, I scrambled up the side of the granite slab and launched myself into the air just as the dragon lunged, its jaws snapping shut on the rock where I had been a second before.
I landed on its neck.
The dragon roared a sound that vibrated in my very teeth and bucked violently, trying to dislodge the flea on its back. I dug the spiked toes of my boots under the overlapping neck scales, holding on with grim determination.
I drew a dagger with my right hand, coated in a paralyzing neurotoxin.
The dragon threw its head back, trying to smash me against its own spine. I rode the momentum, sliding down toward the base of its left wing.
I saw it a patch of slightly paler, softer scales where the massive leather membrane joined the torso. The nexus of muscle and nerve that controlled flight.
I drove the dagger in to the hilt.
The dragon shrieked, a high-pitched sound of agony. The toxin didn't seem to be working instantly but it's movements were starting to slow.
I held.
Clung.
It twisted, fire erupting in a controlled arc above it that washed over the beast's back. I hid under my leather cloak, biting my teeth through the heat.
I was still on its back when it rose.
The forest became a blur. Branches shattered behind us. The fire on the ground, died as suddenly as it had risen, smothered the moment it had served its purpose.
The rest of the team were sitting ducks but the monster did not pursue its advantage.
It fled.
And it took me with it.
The wind tore at my face as the beast surged upward, wings beating hard enough to bend the air. Heat rolled off its body in waves. The forest fell away beneath us dark canopy splitting into rushing shapes and shadows.
I locked my legs tighter.
My fingers were burning.
Now, I thought. If I'm going to die, I would see its past.
I shifted my grip, forced my bare palm against the beast's hide.
The skin was not what I expected. It was layered and hardened by heat, yes, but alive beneath it. It yielded.
The moment I made full contact, the world shattered.
Fire.
Raging. Undirected and uncontrolled. The beast lunging from shadow, heat flaring, scattering bodies, engulfing. A man screaming. A woman falling. Scaled claws flailing.
Running.
Through the forest, low and fast, branches tearing at its sides. Pain sharp, constant. Fear, sorrow, resolve. Arrows glancing off, blades biting. The sound of pursuit behind it, boots and shouts, torches flaring.
Attacks.
Scene after scene of attacks. Steel striking its flank. Magic cracking against its spine. The beast wheeling, retaliating with brutal precision. Thoughts. Decisions. This creature was calculated. A body hurled aside. Blood steaming on snow.
Then
Silence.
Wait. This was wrong.
A table.
Long and low, built from rough wood, its surface scarred by knives and years. Bowls of stew passed hand to hand. Bread torn. Laughter. Real unguarded laughter. A woman nudging it— him – with her shoulder. A child clambering into its lap – human laps that welcomed them without pause.
Warmth.
Belonging.
The beast was there.
Not towering. Not monstrous.
Seated.
Hands human hands passing a bowl, fingers brushing another's by accident. Someone teasing. Someone rolling their eyes fondly. The sound of a chair scraping closer to the table, making room.
My breath hitched.
The vision snapped away violently, replaced by the scream of wind and the violent pitch of flight. My grip slipped. I gasped, lungs burning, heart hammering against my ribs.
I tightened my grip, heart pounding as the monster rose higher, higher, past the treetops. The air became thinner, my grip on its back grew weaker and then I fell.