It seems the entire city’s population has circled around the main square. The beast lays there, tightly chained to the ground from tail to muzzle.

It is the third time Horus faces Azaïd. He shattered his sword on his back the first time, trespassed on his home the second…

Despite the dense crowd surrounding them, everything is quiet. Horus takes his time, observes the Dragon.

He’s injured. The other knights couldn’t kill him, but they scratched and pierced through its teal blue scales.

The prince exhales shakily, cursing the silence, hoping no one has heard or seen how flimsy and ridicule he is. So, he holds his breath from then on out, worried it would betray those unfamiliar feelings, exposing them to the public. He looks down to the sword in his hands. It is going to break, he knows it. Engulfed in doubt and guilt, he looks at Azaïd again. Their eyes meet, but the creature quickly averts theirs to the ground. Horus raises the blade above his shoulders, steadies his stance...

The sword will break. It will break, and he’ll be nothing but an heir to the throne. Horus, the prince with no sword, no will. And the dragon, well, the other knights will slash through its body until it bleeds out, eventually, dying of a slow and painful death.

No legendary tell to be told from that. Horus will live and Azaïd will die, both in misery. Their eyes meet again, right as Horus is about to strike and seal their fates. He recoils for a second, his eyebrows furrow, then, at last, he hits. He hits the metallic chains on the dragon’s muzzle.

As the blade slams against the chains, a shockwave sweeps through the crowd all around. Horus shuts his eyes tight, blinded by the bright, golden beam. He builds up the courage to open his eyes again, a ringing in his ear depriving him of hearing a single thing, if there even was a thing to be heard. He looks down at the sword, still intact, aside from the mended, glowing cracks. The ringing in his ears eventually fades out, replaced by rumors from the crowd.

“The beast has enchanted the prince!”

“The prince is possessed!”

“The beast has unleashed!”

Horus promptly looks up to Azaïd. It seems all the chains have broken at once. He turns to the crowd, completely lost. The royal guards have drawn their crossbows and swords. Amongst the anxious wails of the crowd, a voice echoes above all,

“Do not harm my son! Capture him at once!”

Horus shifts his attention to Azaïd again. He’s about to take flight. Without thinking twice, the prince runs towards the beast, and holds on tight to its tail seconds before it takes off in the sky.

The guards don’t dare to shoot the dragon, worried they’d hit the prince instead. The screams of terror from the crowd, growing fainter the higher they get, quickly bring him to reality. He’s dangling from the dragon’s hooked tail, far too high now to let go. Before he can fully process finding himself so close to the clouds, they are then diving dangerously fast down into the nearest forest.

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…

Who are you?

The prince wakes up with a start. He sits, feels the fresh grass intertwined with his fingers closed in fists. The cold breeze brings some peace to his heart. He looks around, spots the tower. It’s intact. Puzzled, he stands up, looks around. He’s all alone, and yet, he feels deep to his core that he can find company there, and for the first time in his life, the idea of spending one second more alone terrifies him. He feels vulnerable, there. So, he walks towards the tower, feels the blades of grass against the palm of his hands. and without a second thought, climbs the swirling stairs, inspects the balcony. It’s in better shape than ever, as if brand new. No growing vines, no cracks in the wood, no missing planks. He spots, right as he takes his first step into the edifice, someone sitting at the table, near the window. The stranger is quick to notice his presence as well.

“What are you doing here?”

Horus finds the emphasis on ‘you’ unnerving, as if his identity was more relevant to them than his sheer presence. He doesn’t respond, instead scrutinizing the stranger. There was something familiar about them for a split second, a familiarity gone in an instant as soon as the room has plunged back in silence. Horus isn’t sure what to do, or what to say.

He instinctively thought of introducing himself, but the monologue he usually gave to anyone who ever laid eyes on him would’ve sounded untruthful, he wouldn’t dare to utter it ever again. Unsure of what parts of his identity had been lost over the course of these past few days, and ashamed to simply be Horus, he chose silence.

“Leave.”

A distant roar follows the stranger’s words before the prince could think of an answer. He looks past their shoulder, through the window, and notices the beast in the sky, fast approaching. The creature perches on the tower, causing its walls to begin collapsing. Horus dives to dodge falling debris, making his way to the stranger, extending a hand.

“We have to get out! I’ll protect you!”

The stranger flinches, stepping away from him. He navigates through the unstable structure, attempting to reach out once more.

“I’m Horus-” He interrupts himself before he could introduce himself as something more, as what he wasn’t anymore, instead simply nodding, as to encourage the stranger to trust him: just Horus. “I’m trying to help you!” He exclaims, taking the stranger by the hand. They immediately retract their hand from his.

“LEAVE!”

The ceiling collapses on the two.