Kaen ignored Stioks and his taunt.

He willed his eyesight to change and watched as the hallway was no longer obscured with a mist he couldn’t see through. Magical light lined the floor, walls, and ceiling. Ten feet away from him came Stioks, spinning his sword as he smiled. The light of his body was different than most. The burnt side was almost black, with just a faint outline of life within the skin that surrounded him. The other side had an orange glow that wasn’t like the light most creatures or living things had.

Kaen could see the smile as the man moved forward, not bothering to defend himself as he approached. Knowing that Stioks had no idea that he could see, Kaen assumed a defensive stance, holding his shield out slightly and putting the blade against the edge.

A tiny chuckle came as he moved backward, and Stioks started to jog. He moved to the far left side of the hallway, sword out, prepared to slice downward.

When the man had committed to his attack, leg planted and sword in motion, Kaen slammed his shield into the blade and drove his own at the started man.

Stiok’s shield moved but not in time to block the blow. Instead, it pushed Kaen’s sword down and into his stomach.

The blade pierced Stioks’s armor, sliding through until it hit the armor protecting his back.

Stioks’s mouth was open, yet no sound came as Kaen drove him against the wall.

Using his shield to keep Stioks’s sword arm pinned, Kaen pressed the sword harder, trying to pierce the armor on the other side of his foe's body.

Kaen saw magic pulse inside Stioks from his lifestone and raced through his arm toward his shield.

Jumping backward, Kaen caught the edge of Stioks’s shield as it slammed into his chest and arm. The power of that strike hurt more than Kaen had anticipated. Hess had warned him years ago that a shield slam when pressed against someone was one of the strongest attacks, and yet until that moment, Kaen never understood why.

His arm ached, and his hand throbbed.

Stioks slid against the wall, gasping.

Kaen could see life and liquid seeping from the wound he had caused.

“How?” Stioks asked as he panted, holding his sword hand against the hole in his stomach. “How can you see?”

Kaen pretended to look around the hallway by rotating his shoulder and shaking out his sword arm. “See? You just smell and made a lot of noise.”

“Lies!” Stiok shouted, pointing his sword at Kaen.

This time, Kaen saw power from all over his body flowing into Stiok’s hand and the blade.

His arm hurt, and it still hadn’t lost the numbness, but standing where he was and waiting for whatever spell was about to come at him left Kaen with no good options.

Holding the shield up, Kaen rushed toward Stioks, watching the man shift into the middle of the hallway. More mana flowed into the sword, and Stioks’s hand began to glow brighter. Time was running out, and Kaen didn’t have many options left to play if something like the first spell Stioks had sent at him hit.

Willing his sword arm to move, he gritted through the pain.

[ Power Slash ]

His sword slammed into Stioks’s sword.

Stioks’s eyes widened only after he realized that Kaen wasn’t aiming for his body. Instead, his sword was still pointed out, away from his body, exposed, and filled with mana.

Kaen’s blade struck with so much force that both swords cracked, and Stioks began to scream as the power went from his hand into the now fractured blade.

Hiding his head and chest as best as possible behind the dragon shield as he saw the buildup and transfer of power, knowing what was about to come.

An explosion filled the tunnel, and shrapnel from the sword went flying in every direction.

Kaen felt himself knocked back and rolled along the hallway floor.

Everywhere hurt. Kaen’s ears felt like Pammon had roared right into them. A hollow noise filled his head, and pain seemed to radiate all over.

Trying to sit up, Kaen saw Stioks on the ground on his back, about twenty feet away. The man was barely moving, and he was groaning. There were pieces of metal inside the man’s body all over. Some were shallow, and a few were buried deep within.

Kaen looked at his own body. The armor he wore was mostly intact, but a piece of metal four inches long and as thin as the needle Lord Hurem used on Pammon was impaled in his thigh.

Another piece had pierced the forearm of his sword hand.

It was then that Kaen realized his sword was gone.

Leaning over, he grabbed the small piece of metal in his leg and yanked it out after letting go of his shield. Wincing as he pulled it out, Kaen knew he needed to apologize to Pammon for all the times he had mocked the dragon when giving blood.

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The piece in his arm was barely sticking out, and he couldn’t grab it with his gloves.

Looking at Stioks once more, Kaen saw the man he had hunted for so long was barely moving. Each breath seemed raspy and raw.

Kaen could see all the pieces of metal inside the man, and he looked like a pincushion.

Opening his eyes, Kaen saw the hallway return to normal. A thin mist of fog and poison still hung in the air, but it was mostly gone. It was dark where he was, the explosion had destroyed the lightstones set in the wall. Pieces of the sword were lodged in the floor, walls, and ceiling.

Reaching down, Kaen grabbed the pouch on his hip and opened it. Liquid seeped out, and he pulled it tight. His knife was gone, so Kaen picked up the sliver of the sword he had removed from his leg and used it to cut the strap that held the pouch on. Putting the opening into his mouth, it took some effort for his tongue and finger to slowly open it.

Warm liquid poured into him, and Kaen drank deeply, trying to keep the small pieces of glass that flowed into his mouth strained through his teeth.

He squeezed the pouch to get as much as possible before dropping it on the floor and spitting the glass out.

He waited, wondering if he would scream silently or at all.

The metal piece in his arm began to stir, and Kaen winced as it was pushed from his skin and out the small hole it had created in his armor.

A few other small pieces in areas he hadn’t realized came out, stuck between his clothes and the armor he wore.

The hole in his leg was sealed with no problem, and for the first time in a while, Kaen realized he felt terrific.

Standing, he grabbed his shield and looked at the floor. A longer piece of metal was sticking out of the stone. Bending down, he grabbed it with his gloves and yanked. It snapped off, leaving him about eight inches of metal. It wasn’t wider than half an inch but would do what he needed.

“Time to die, Stioks. The world has had enough of you.”

A rasping laugh came, followed by some choking as Kaen moved to where the man lay. Seeing him now, blood was coming out of tiny holes all over the man's body.

The hand that had held the sword was gone, burnt off at the end about three inches above where the wrist should be.

Stepping on Stioks’s arm, which still held the shield, Kaen leaned over and looked into the man’s eyes.

“Tell me… what… do you see…” Stioks said between gasps.

Kaen sighed, angry and upset that both eyes were bleeding, peppered with metal shards.

A chuckle came as Kaen said nothing, blood spitting out of Stioks’s mouth.

“Not the… victory… you wanted… is it… finish me… you win…”

His hand that held the metal shard trembled as he squeezed it. Stioks was right. This wasn’t the way he wanted to end this fight. He wanted the man who had killed so many, killed his father, killed his mother, to look him in the eyes as he took his last breath. Pammon deserved to know that the man who had enslaved his mother got to see the dragon rider of the egg she had snatched away be the one to get revenge.

“You’re right,” Kaen growled. “It’s not what I wanted or dreamed of, but I’ll take it. Answer me this first. Why did you choose this path?”

Stioks coughed, blood splattering everywhere, running down the outside of his lips and cheeks. His chest heaved as his lungs filled with blood.

“Why… because I could… it’s funny… your father… asked… the same–”

Kaen shook his head as Stioks made a gurgling sound. He wasn’t going to let him finish that sentence. He couldn’t bear to hear Stioks mention his father anymore.

He slammed the blade the rest of the way into Stioks’s skull. Beneath him lay the man who wanted to rule the world, to enslave everyone. Dead at the hands of the one who didn’t want to be his great-grandson.

It’s finished… Stioks is dead… Your mother has been avenged.

Kaen felt across the space and searched for Pammon and some feeling or sensation.

An overwhelming sense of satisfaction came, followed by primal rage.

It is my turn to end this.

Pammon knew Stioks was dead not just because he felt it from his rider or because Kaen had told him.

When the man was gone, Taerar turned sharply in the sky and flew straight toward him.

You shall die! I shall rip your throat apart!

Pammon thrummed as the dragon half his size raced toward him.

The armor the welp wore hid his natural scales, and Pammon felt sorry for the dragon. He had been forced to be bound to a crazed man who desired nothing but his own gains.

Kaen’s statement about avenging his mother felt like a mountain had been lifted off his back. He flew without a hurt that was never fully healed.

The dragon, still half a minute away from him, was unfortunate. If Pammon’s mother hadn’t managed to escape with his egg and leave him for Kaen to find, his life would be like Taerar’s.

Never knowing love.

Not knowing joy.

Not having a family.

What he had to do was pity.

Killing Tharnok had been painful, ending the life of a mentor and father figure.

Today would be different. He would rid the world of a dragon that was a plague on the name of dragons.

Come Taerar, let me end your suffering.

The dragon roared, and flame began to form in its mouth. Red fire washed over Pammon, splashing harmlessly off the bronze scales.

Grinning, Pammon waited until Taerar was a few seconds away.

The fire he unleashed wasn’t red.

The color that came from his mouth wasn’t orange or even white.

What came from inside him was a flame that was only possible when they had a rider like Kaen.

Blue flames came out of his mouth, and Taerar flew into them, unaware of what he was about to experience.

The young dragon tried to roar in agony, but the fire burnt his scales and melted away the armor Stioks had promised would protect him. His flesh in midair was stripped from his body, and as he fell under Pammon, the flames didn’t stop.

Rolling like Glynnis had taught him, Pammon turned and chased the corpse. The dragon before him was gone, and Taerar’s head was vaporized in a moment.

A blue ball of fire plummeted to the ground, and behind it, the one that had created it gave chase.

Pammon roared, his voice echoing across the bowl of mountains, announcing who he was and that he was the victor. It carried for miles as it echoed off the stone, and if anyone had been outside, they would have seen the falling blue star of fire.

Pammon finished chewing, leaving the still burning and smoldering corpse to put itself out in a few days. He swallowed the heart and leaped into the air, heading back to where Kaen was.

It is done. We have won this war.

Through their bond, both of them felt relief from the other.

It felt like their whole life had led up to this moment.

They had finished their promise.