I started recreating the Shadewalking - Shadewalking, that had been what it was called; how had I forgotten? - circle, in the hope that I could make it out before the dragons woke up entirely and did whatever they would do someone who had not fallen for the chair's trap. They probably wouldn't succumb to it themselves; they'd probably made the thing in the first place. Maybe it was a food trap for them, but something about a dragon choosing not to hunt and instead ensnare sapient prey rang false compared to everything I knew about their species.

Maybe it wasn't intended to attract people at all. I wasn't sure it was possible to catalog all the chaotic mutations that could happen to an enchanted object's function when left alone for any decent amount of time. Sometimes it was fun: a sword could become sharper or develop a thought process to help people wield it more effectively. Sometimes it was flat-out weird: a golem could grow extra limbs in very strange spots. Sometimes it was dangerous: one of my own attempts to inscribe something new ended in a mirror that would only reflect the nightmares of someone standing in front of them.

Maybe the chairs had just been a way to keep the village's attention on the entombed dragons twisted by the association with death. A servant population ready to go whenever they woke turned to rot and preyed-upon fascination. After all, the chair's inscription and animus had been editing my thoughts every time I thought about leaving.

I hadn't noticed at the time, which by itself spoke to the effectiveness of the source, but when I'd torn away the strands of the influence, it had all reasserted itself.

The claw of the golden dragon twitched and I flinched a glance in its direction. There were many things in this world I'd done my best to avoid even at the highest heights of my powers and dragons possessed three of those things: dragonflame, immense personal pride, and enough wealth to contract any assassin or mercenary they wanted. And that was barring the outliers that would have more terrifyingly potent options to bring to bear against me.

They also had a tendency to gossip, which went against my goals in this life, so I would have been far happier to have never come into contact with anyone of any species that owed allegiance to a dragon.

I finished infusing the Shadow animus into Shadewalk's ring, what little I'd managed to collect in here and what even littler had remained from the last time barely having been enough, and tried to press it into myself to activate it. My arm moved an inch before stopping, the empowered circle still hovering above my palm. There was something pressing into the inner crook of my elbow, stopping me from Shadewalking out, and even before I looked, I knew exactly what it was.

It was a claw. A bright ivory-white claw, straight but visibly wickedly sharp, and longer than the forearm it rested against even just counting the portion that was extended. There was always more claw in a dragon's hand. Always.

The claw was most of what I could see of the dragon, the rest stretching over my shoulder from behind in a shiny maroon-scaled menace to everything I'd wanted out of this life. A harsh light formed behind me, sending the shadows dancing wildly, and I resisted the urge to turn around. It wouldn't help.

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I heard the creature exhale and closed my eyes, braced for the imminent permanent death that dragonflame would bring. The heat came, wrapping itself around my arm as if the dragon intended to burn me away piece by piece to extend the torture. I waited for the flame to descend and bring pain with it.

And waited.

And waited.

Was it the anticipation? Was that why it was seemingly taking so long for the dragon to scorch away my arm? Was I getting used to the heat enough that my mind was telling me it was receding?

The need to look was killing me. I cracked an eyelid.

My arm was intact. The flame was burning away the final portions of my Shadewalking circle, but left me entirely untouched. The dragon didn't want to kill me, it just wanted to keep me from leaving. Was that better or worse? I didn't know.

Instead of attempting to work it out, I let myself pass out when the wave of relief crashed in.

*

I rose back to consciousness with a pair of rumbling voices as my only accompaniment.

"- quite excitable, this one is, yes?"

"Perhaps if you had used words instead of simply grabbing hold of it and burning away whatever working that was that it was creating it wouldn't have been. What is the point of speech if not to use it, Rykeg? Answer me that. What is the point of you having vocal cords if you do not use them?"

"I did not see you attempting to reason with the creature."

"I was still asleep, you imbecile. You have always come out of the enchantment faster than I and you know it."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Maybe you simply thought it more effective to wait and see."

"And when have I ever done something so uncouth as that?"

"The last time we awoke you said yourself that you watched me butcher that roc and did not lift a claw to help. Seems a small step to me, at least for you."

"Really. Are you certain that the sleep has not affected your mind? Perhaps you should let me tend to you for a time, work out those unfortunate complications."

"It is listening, Hymre. I thought you were better than to not know when your patient had awoken?"

"I am. When I do not have some chattering sparrow in my ear trying to justify a threat against someone's eternal existence. When I am not distracted by the scent two dozen corpses decaying. When I am allowed to focus."

To call what I'd been doing listening may have been too generous. I was observing at best. Hearing, certainly, but there was no auditory processing happening. I was taking a second to confront the fact that I was staring down the guideline of the end of the life that I had planned as a reward. Rewards shouldn't come at any further cost. Their cost had already been paid.

I had been taking it too easy. I had been treating a reward like it wasn't still Nisichi I was dealing with. Being in control of my own life was not a guarantee. And there was only one thing to be done for that, one thing that rekindled the load-bearing fire inside of me. The only way to be able to master my own fate was to get stronger.

So that was what I would do.