Owed to the slow speed of our shared steed, our exit was not the breakneck getaway either of us had hoped for. The scenery dragged by instead of blurring, the glow around the tents lingering for a spell, and just as it faded, a new light started creeping. It would be some time before we felt comfortable pitching camp, so we rode through dawn and for as long as we could after.

As things settled in, either relief or fatigue, I did eventually loosen my hold of the lead. My arms fell limp as the wind ran its cold fingers through my dirty mane, quickly warmed by sunlight unfettered. At times, I forgot that she was there, only to take a deep breath and feel her arms stretched around my waist. As it stood now, I was less than thrilled to be anchored by yet another set of straps, but when the sun fell and the chill settled on the plains, I was thankful for something to keep me warm. Until then we remained in silence, but it was a pleasant silence and strangely sweet to be able to share.

"You know, it does look like you," I heard her say, first to break our tacit treaty. "Down to that little bump on your nose and the—bigger bump above your eyebrow. Uncanny really." I tried to ignore her, to keep my head straight despite the crumpling of paper just behind it, but she wasn't having it. "You might not be ready, but I'm still waiting to hear more."

"How do you mean?"

"'Crimes against the royalty and state'? I'm taking a risk by even continuing to travel with you. The least you could do is tell me I made the right decision."

No amount of convincing would ever persuade her of that delusion. To do that, I'd have to lie, but the skill always eluded me, and on the occasion I tried my hand, I didn't like the taste it left in my mouth. "I snapped, okay? They stepped on me and I snapped."

"Well, when you put it like that," she mocked. "I can’t believe I doubted you! I was worried that you might be a lunatic, but you’ve really stowed my fears. Thank you for your—"

“I was afraid, alright?! I was scared and embarrassed, and when I had enough poking and prodding I showed my fangs." At my raised voice, her goading stopped. "I’m not proud of it. I don’t pretend I did the right thing, but in the moment, it felt like all I could do, so forgive me for not wanting to confess to a perfect stranger."

The nerve she’d struck had rung louder than intended, smothering any rejoinder until not a peep remained. She was taciturn; her voice was meek, and her hands pulled away from me. “Well, what did you do? And who made you do it?”

“No matter what I did, I couldn't convince the Duke of what I saw. He denounced me as a drunkard, made a mockery of my service, and when I wouldn't give it up, he stripped it from me like a hung boar. In anger, I pointed my blade, and I attacked the first guard who tried to stop me."

In telling this to Cordella, I was ready for the worst in her response, and I shriveled my face in anticipation of the lambasting.

"Okay."

"That's it? An 'Okay'? I gave you precisely the answer you least wanted to hear, and suddenly you're not the least bit disturbed you're traveling with a criminal?"

"I know I've given you a hard time, Kaiser, but you have to understand my situation. It was just more convenient to blame you than to admit I made a mistake. Neither of us wanted this. I shouldn't be dragging you through the coals."

"I don't know what you blame yourself for. As far as I can tell, every bit of this situation was my doing. I haven't done a thing right since I got back to Abdera, and now you're being made to pay the price."

“You can do the wrong thing for the right reasons.”

“And tell me the right reason. Hubris? Self-preservation? Because when I flew down those stairs I didn’t give a damn what happened behind me.”

“Would you prefer I be upset? To scold you for a stupid mistake? Because you’ll drive yourself mad if you hang on to everything you do wrong. We miss a step from time to time, but it's how we reconcile that determines the quality of our person."

She was gentler than I gave her credit for, far less harsh at least than I was towards myself. I didn’t understand it—why the people I’d done nothing but disappoint continued to stick their necks out for me. Some of them, I would never be able to repay, but there was one that I could, and in our time remaining, I left no stone unturned. Over the coming days, there wasn’t a moment we didn’t spend chatting, laughing, or recounting our lives up until that point. Seeing as it was my refrain from telling the truth that had gotten us into this situation, I was more than happy to lead the discussions.

I started with tales of my youth: how Israfel had raised me in Abdera, and how the Captain had showed me my place in it. When I was too young to know any better, I called the first of those men grandpa. Old and gray, and he'd been there as long as I could remember, so it seemed logical to my young mind, but he'd scolded me for it. He didn't want to be associated with the kind of people that left me at his doorstep, not that I could recall them. Then, for all of the shit he gave them, he vanished too. He was a scholar, so it didn't bother me him being gone for a few weeks; he'd always make it back eventually. I'd wait for the doors to be thrown open, books and treasures he'd obtained to be spilled across my bed, but it just...never happened. For the better part of six years, I made a living for myself, no hope I'd ever see the man again until that note wound up on my desk.

For all of the pain he’d caused me, I didn’t harp on it. It was better fun talking about the good times than it was the aftermath, and I’d fill Cordella’s ear as long as she’d let me. We had upward of fifteen good years together, and from there on he gave me everything I had—taught me everything I knew and still do. Wherever he’d gone off to, my home, my job, and my magical talent were all thanks to him.

Having become more comfortable with my new companion, I went on to describe my encounter with the Duke, and beyond that, my extensive years of scouting. I prattled on about the countless species of vermin I'd vanquished, and likewise the criminals I'd apprehended. It was unlike me to go on and on like I did, but this felt like the first time I’d been given the chance, and I had a hard time stopping myself once I started. My audience was a captive one, but she was nonetheless attentive, asking questions and details that I'd intentionally spared for time. Of all of them, one story held her intrigue.

"I hope it isn’t prying, but I’d like to learn a little more," she said one night from across the campfire, gnawing at bread and bone.

"What more is there? My life story wasn't enough?"

"About your expedition, I mean. You say a wyvern caused it all, but what makes you so sure? It sounds none like what I’ve seen before."

I lowered the mangled piece of meat from my mouth. "Believe me, you’d remember if you had."

“For what it’s worth now, I do believe you. I know wyverns tend to fly shy of these parts, but I’ve spent enough time in Chenglei that I’m no stranger. It’s just—it’s quite the conclusion to jump to is all .”

“Well,” I started, “I’m no expert, but I’d like to think I know one when I see it. Not a lot else out there that can fit the description, as much as I wish there were.”

She leaned forward, her face a soft and glowing orange under the light of the flames. Now I had her. “You saw it?! What was it like? How much could you make out?”

“It was unearthly—nearer the size of the village than the houses therein—but breathtaking in its own nightmarish way. In total, it must have been less than a few seconds that I laid eyes on it, but I saw enough. Hell, I still see it. When I go to bed at night and the sun peeks through the next morning, there’s a part of me that thinks I’m still wrapped in its flame.

Cordella fell back on her haunches with eyes of longing. "Don't think me a madwoman, but, under the right circumstances, I'd love to see it for myself. Not out of disbelief or anything, I'm just interested in how such a creature could have remained dormant."

Madwoman would be putting it lightly. Having seen it for myself, I hoped I'd never have to again. "Clearly we yearn for different things."

She grinned. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you talk about it. A little curiosity isn’t a bad thing, even if it does tend to lead you there.”

“As long as we’re talking about curiosity, maybe you can answer a question of mine too.”

“Hmm?”

“When I brought bad news to Abdera, I fought for my life to make them take heed, but for you, it was too easy. I’m a stranger, a criminal no less, and yet you’d trust my claim with so little to back it.”

“If you were the only source of rumors, I might have questions, but since your little siren song, wyrm sightings have spawned in the dozens. And that’s just from what I’ve heard in that cramped tent.” She reached out with a spindly branch, stoking the fire as it threatened to extinguish. “Some large, some not—I wonder if something has driven them all here. Something worse than what you saw?”

"That's preposterous," I told her outright. "There isn't a damn thing that could send that titan scrambling. Perhaps everyone is just spooked, seeing phantoms in the sky."

"Could be. As it stands, we’ve no way of knowing. It could all be groundless speculation just the same."

Although the unknown frightened me, I had to admit that it also filled me with morbid curiosity. Was my sighting the cause of countless others, or was it merely a sign of something bigger? Either way, it was a hell of a theory for someone’s ‘groundless speculation’, and she announced it less timidly than I would have. When next the fire grew dim, I didn't disturb the coals. It was only a few more nights now before we made it to Chenglei, and both of us were eager to get a full night's rest.

The campsite was lit for just another moment when I asked her to quell one of my fears. "You say you're familiar with Chenglei. It isn't all true what they say, is it? 'The land wrapped in wyverns and snow'?"

"Oh, you know what they say about rumors, Kaiser." She was dusting off a blanket, readying it for her head. "Wouldn't be spread if they weren't true." At her joke, she let out a hearty laugh, one that grew more boisterous when she saw the glare it left on my face.

"Careful, Cordella. I know where you rest your head at night."

She continued her cackling. "That's a relief! Here I was just getting comfortable thinking that I wouldn't be mauled in my sleep." Her grin faded quickly thereafter, and in a moment of contemplation, she brought her thumb between her teeth. Then, she rose to her knees, stooping over her pack as she rummaged through it. "Here. If you're worried, this should help you familiarize yourself with the locale. What with the way you speak of your encounters with strange beasts, I figure you may find it interesting nonetheless."

She had produced a leather-bound book, one that seemed much too large for the small pouch it was pulled from. She set it on the grass before me and laid back down, facing away from the embers. "Goodnight, Kaiser. Feel free to keep the fire going if you fancy a read."

"Goodnight."

I eyed the tome hesitantly, taking note the heaviness of my eyelids before I set it in my lap. Just a quick peek is all I've time for, then to bed. It was a hefty read; about the thickness of a bar of gold bullion and weighing as much as one too. I turned it over in my hands. Compendium of the Wicked, it read, a title devoid of subtlety. Although it reeked of dust and aged parchment, it opened smoothly, and the contents looked to be in fine enough condition.

I began in the middle of the volume, opening at "S" and thumbing through the wrinkled and yellowed pages. The "Scytalis" was the first creature whose entry I read in full. It described a writhing serpent born of rainbow scales so stunning that they could halt the approach of any warrior, blinding all that should seek to harm it. Accompanying the description was a hand-sketched illustration displaying the beast in such detail that it could only have been drawn by an eyewitness. A few pages deeper was the Timiṅgala, a whale so large it could engulf others in a bite; "The Ocean Swallower" it was called.

There were hundreds more of them—large and small—some I had heard of and an overwhelming majority I had not. It was enthralling to see in vivid detail all the creatures I never could, as well as those I never knew existed. The world was ever more expansive than I had first realized, and yet the person who filled these pages had seen it all.

Finally, I happened upon the wraith, a name I recall having first heard from the drunkards in Ethelburrow, and whose image caused me to shudder. Nothing more than a heavy black silhouette with glowing white sockets for eyes. I laid my finger on the page and traced the words as I read the passage.

"A phantasmal creature. A loose manifestation of free-floating ether that drains hosts to sustain their short lifespan. By filling the lungs of sleeping travelers, it invokes night terrors and leeches the mana produced in the frightened state. They can only persist in the blackness of the night; vulnerable to bright light."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Dreadful, but at least I had found a likely culprit for the events of that night. However, rather than be satisfied with that, I continued onto the very last of the section, and then into a comprehensive list of all known wyverns. Picture-perfect illustrations of reptiles of every shape and size, though none resembling what I'd seen weeks prior. Of all of them, the fire drake and the lindworm were all I was concerned with, and the book confirmed my suspicions: wingless dragons able to manipulate their natural energies to manifest a flame, the only two documented species with such an ability.

I was past ready to rest my head when I noticed something. That was every species, and yet more pages laid between this and the last. I'd seen all that I wished to, and all I had time for, and still curiosity guided my hand to the edge of the volume. I flipped the page. Then the next. A dozen more until a new title appeared. "Undocumented Wyverns."

Until now, the relic was undamaged, and the contents yielded smoothly to my prying; however, the sheets had begun to stick to one another, and I had to be careful to preserve the secrets within. I wet my fingers with my tongue and slowly peeled them back, my eyes widening at what I found. It was an artist's rendering of the most colossal beast I had ever seen, dwarfing all but the wyvern from my expedition. This was handily illustrated by the minuscule human form they drew leaning against the monster's side. Each page thereon was more alarming than the last, scribbled with legends and myths that shook me to the core: dripping teeth, globe-spanning wings, and haunting murals showcasing each of their incredible power.

Overwhelmed, I suddenly shut the compendium and glanced at Cordella who had long since fallen asleep. Cruel of her to give me this when I was vulnerable, and gullible of me to think it might allay any misgivings. I knew these were nothing but crude and twisted renderings, but they did make me wonder. In my efforts to smooth over our rough start, I laid myself bare, and yet I had no idea to whom. Who exactly did I travel with, and where had she procured a book like this?

Amidst my worrying, what little was left of dusk slipped through closed fingers, and the unwelcome light of dawn scurried in to take its place. I was tempted by the night, enraptured by the book into the early hours of the morning, and when I opened my eyes, I felt keenly the sting and strain it left behind.

Initially, I assumed I hadn't slept at all, as would explain the rancid feeling in my gut, but then I noticed my swaying. My head bobbed and bounced in place, and suddenly I was made aware of the grass brushing under my nose. I was moving, draped across the back of the horse like cheap cargo while Cordella took the reins.

"You're up?" She asked excitedly. "Finally. I didn't think it was even possible to sleep like that, but you make it look easy."

Scrambling to a less harrowing position, I winced as the ringing in my ears grew from a buzz to a whistle. The contribution made by the blood rushing down from my face was no small part, but it seemed the altitude also played a factor. In my time unconscious, the air had grown colder still as we followed the land's gradual curve upward, and the earthen floor was desolate of whatever flora had been left the day before. Instead, it was littered with shallow snow piles.

"You made a lot of progress in a time," I admired, albeit groggily.

"Short? You've been out for hours. Truth be told, I was beginning to think I'd lost you."

I forced a laugh. "It couldn’t have been long. Just a short while ago I was reading that cursed book of yours when I—come to think of it, I don't remember getting on the horse. How did I wake up here?"

"Oh, a woman has her ways."

It wasn't much of an explanation she offered, but before I could ask for more, I was nearly thrown to the ground by our steed's skidding to a halt. I swung around and rose myself back to a seated position, swallowing back the bile that rose during the commotion.

"Damn, I may need your help with this," she muttered while she assessed the situation.

We had arrived at a mountain pass, sheer cliff faces on either side of our only way forward, and wedged between them was a heaping rock pile. I dismounted as Cordella had done, approaching the rubble on legs half-asleep. Meanwhile, she raced forward, leaping up the stack of boulders like a goat and surveying our options. I was skeptical. "I don't see either of us being able to move that with our strength alone. We should just look for another path."

"We can't be sure without trying. Circumnavigating the entire mountain would add a little more time to our trip than we have available."

I was slow to reach the rocky obstruction. "Maybe we can shimmy between the—" I stopped when I noticed something peculiar about the placement of the rocks. They were of stunningly uniform sizes, all of them rounded and none smaller than my fist. Moreover, they were methodically placed, not a stray stone strewn anywhere but the mound itself. If this were a freak rock slide, one would expect dirt and debris scattered far beyond such a localized area. "Get down. Now!" I called out to her when I understood what caused the formation.

It started with a rattling—the rhythmic vibration between each of the stones until, all at once, they shifted. Not chaotically, but synchronized as though an invisible thread had bound them. Cordella slid from the cobble, landing in the dirt with a hard thud; shaken, but otherwise unharmed.

"Is this good news or bad?" she asked nervously as the mass of rocks took shape before her. They rose from the loose pile into two, tight orderly stacks on which sat the largest of the boulders. From there swung two strands of slag, like great cobbled arms.

I too was unsure which way things had turned. Golems were a curious sort, for as unassuming as they appeared, they were very much sentient. This took care of the road hazard since it could now move itself, but it left in its place a new, precarious dilemma. This wasn’t flesh and bone we were dealing with but earth and aura, and the latter wouldn’t be easily dissuaded with a steel sword. I was in the midst of finding a solution when my ally stepped out front and center, brushing the dust from her cloak and freeing her arms of her sleeves.

“If it’s all the same to you, I should be able to take care of this for us.”

“Using what? Your wiles?”

She flashed a smirk. “Not unless I have to, no, but I do find it’s best to apply a woman’s touch before trying something extreme. Just take a few steps back if you would.”

I chuckled back, sure she was joking as she returned to her stance. Then, when she didn’t budge, I was less certain. Her countenance sharpened—eyes clamped shut and brows crinkled as her hands began drifting upward. It was a look I recognized but couldn’t quite place before the shift. As though the clouds had lifted, a subtle heat suffused the area. It hit me.

“Cordella? What are you—”

The words left my mouth but were lost on the way. Even had they survived the flash, they’d have perished in the blast that accompanied it. Across the way, the golem detonated from the center out, pouring smoke and cinder in a heavy plume.

"What the hell are you—!"

She afforded me no more time to process; what I thought was one blast turned into a second and third, and from the site erupted a roaring inferno as spell after spell was cast in the same spot. The ground itself shook from her fury, and dust quickly consumed us in its haze. "Stop!" I yelled, shielding my face from the squall and debris created by the repeated explosions. My plea had no effect, and she continued her unrelenting barrage.

This was too much; to use such powerful magic haphazardly was a death sentence, and I couldn't stand idly by. Whereas the variety of magic and its applications was almost limitless, the human body would inevitably run dry of its reserves. I tried again to get through to her, but my voice was lost in the commotion, and each shock wave forced me lower and lower onto my knees.

When finally she let up, I lunged to catch her, but she didn't fall. Likewise, I feared the strained cough that would wrench itself from her lungs—the shriveled extremities as she turned to dust in her cloak—but no. She released a slow breath, and one of disappointment rather than exhaustion. I picked myself and my jaw off the ground and watched as the scene slowly settled, the suspension of dust and rubble hanging in the air long after she'd finished her assault. When most of it had cleared, I saw what was left of the golem. At the bottom of a scorching black crater was left a simple boulder—the torso—while its limbs were decimated and scattered to a false wind.

"What the hell was that?!" I finally exclaimed.

"I handled it. At least, I thought I did."

I gawked incredulously at the walking war machine. "Handled it? You nearly leveled the mountain! How could anything walk away from that?"

On cue, the smoking slag around our feet began to shake, and the fragments danced in tune as they marched back to the sundered torso to reform the fallen behemoth. Pebble and stone formed rock and boulder, and moments later, the golem stood firm, albeit glowing red from the heat of her attacks. When Cordella readied her hands for the second round, I snatched them from the air.

She yanked them free and gave me a scalding look. "What do you think you’re doing? I’m not done."

I unsheathed my sword, still pristine. "I think you've done enough."

Ignoring her hot glare, I took off, a few scalding words chasing me on my way to the crater. I hoped to close the distance before our flaming foe could recover, therefore giving me the time to solve the maze I landed myself in. I didn’t yet know the way out, but it was better this than burying ourselves. As I slid down the scathing caldera, the golem reacted much as I did, slowly coming to terms with its continued survival. Its reflexes didn’t fare much better when I flashed my weapon, only able to form a bulwark after several probing scrapes. As anticipated, normal attacks were wasted; other than a hailstorm of sparks, each swipe shed more metal than it did rock.

When it came time to return my attack, the talus swung its stone arms like chains, throwing clods of dirt and gravel soaring toward me. It was powerful, no doubt, but its speed meant I could easily avoid it by circling its perimeter. I continued this cycle of attack and evasion while I searched for a weak point and drew the lumbering monolith out from betwixt the mountains.

Eventually, I spotted what must have been the result of Cordella's efforts: a shallow crack spread through the central body. And so, with a powerful leap, I positioned myself in its blind spot and drove the blade forward. A sharp twang ran through my ears and arms as sword met stone, and with the last of my strength, I wedged it as deep as I could. Next, I poured my ether into the embedded blade, causing an icy piton to bear into the rocks and burst free of every crevice.

I wrenched free the weapon and reeled back to admire my work. The ice had done significant damage, but not enough. Though the split within the boulder had grown deeper, it showed no signs of collapse. I'd expended a great deal of energy, and all I had to show for the onslaught was the wear it put on my new weapon.

"That's enough!" her call rang out. "This isn't going anywhere. Just fall back."

My breaths were labored and shallow from expending so much energy, and my movements had slowed as a result. She had cast tens of spells back-to-back without a breath, while I was winded after one—how she was capable of such a feat was beyond me, but I wouldn't let her risk it again. If I was to finish this myself, then I had one last chance. I speared my sword into the earth and gathered my breath. Thudding along, the golem staggered to where I knelt, raising its rocky arms overhead.

"What are you thinking? Move!"

When its arm crashed down like a hammer from the heavens, I pushed off from my heels, narrowly avoiding being made a puddle as I raced up its shoulder and dropped to the ground behind. I stole an arrow from my quiver and drew my bow, aiming for where the ice had left a deep gouge in the surface of the stone. With one last burst of speed, I distanced myself from the monster and let the arrow crack the sky, bracing myself for what ensued.

The last act in a concert of chaos, the blast resounded, and the dirt lifted in a great swell rippling outward from the center of the crater. This time, when the dust would clear, only a heap of rocks would remain, for the center body had buckled from fracture. After waiting a few seconds to be sure, I retrieved my damaged straight sword from where it had struck the ground before staggering back to Cordella.

She had a mocking grin when I neared her, and her lips moved, but I couldn't hear her over the low drumming in my ears; no doubt it was something to wipe clean the satisfaction from my face. When she saw my glazed eyes her expression soured, and she muttered something. After a few more steps I noticed my legs feeling weaker than they did before, and she lunged as I toppled over.