Elara's POV
The dragon's eyes burn into mine like liquid gold.
I can't breathe. Can't move. Can't think. One second I was in the Husklands with Catryn's shadow magic pulling me down. Now I'm here—wherever here is—standing face-to-face with the most dangerous creature in history.
Valdris is massive. Even chained and suspended in the air, he's bigger than any building I've ever seen. His scales are midnight black with silver stars scattered across them, like someone captured the night sky and turned it into armor. Thousands of glowing chains pierce his body, each one burning with magic that makes my stomach twist.
He's being tortured. Right now. Every second.
"Well?" His voice rumbles through my bones. "Are you going to stand there gaping, or are you going to explain how a human appeared inside my prison?"
I find my voice. "I don't know! Lady Catryn used shadow magic, and then I was falling, and—" I look around wildly. "Where am I? How did I get here?"
The dragon tilts his massive head, studying me like I'm a puzzle. "You're in the Cage of Chains. The place you were trying to reach, little thief. Though I expected you to take the usual route—three days through the Scorched Wastes, slowly dying from toxic air and magical traps." His laugh is bitter. "Instead, you took a shortcut."
"A shortcut?" I press my hand to my chest where the mark burns. "Your mark did this?"
"My mark called you. Your enemy's magic answered." Valdris shifts, and the chains tighten, making him growl with pain. "Convenient. Or perhaps fate has a cruel sense of humor."
I should be terrified. Every story about this dragon says he's a monster who eats people. Who burns cities for fun. Who nearly destroyed the world.
But all I can see is the way the chains cut into his scales. The burn marks that never heal. The exhaustion in those golden eyes.
"You're hurt," I whisper.
Valdris goes completely still. "What did you say?"
"The chains. They're hurting you." My healing magic stirs inside me, responding to his pain without permission. "How long have you been like this?"
For a long moment, the dragon just stares at me. Then he laughs—a sound full of disbelief and something that might be sadness.
"Five hundred years, little thief. I've been tortured for five hundred years. And you're the first person to notice."
My heart breaks. Five hundred years. I can't even imagine that much pain.
"I'm sorry," I say, and I mean it.
"Sorry?" Valdris's eyes narrow. "You break into my prison—accidentally or not—and you apologize? What kind of human are you?"
"The kind who needs your help." I straighten my shoulders. "My children are going to die. Thirty-two orphans. Theron ordered them executed in three days—no, wait." Panic floods through me. "How long was I unconscious? How much time is left?"
"Two days." Valdris watches me carefully. "You lost a full day to the shadow magic. Your orphans have forty-eight hours."
Two days. Only two days left.
"Then I don't have time to be afraid of you." I step closer, ignoring the heat radiating from his chains. "The legends say you grant wishes. That if someone offers themselves to you, you might help them. Is it true?"
"Depends on the wish." His massive head lowers until we're eye to eye. "What exactly do you want from the Calamity Dragon?"
"Save them. Please." My voice cracks. "I don't care what happens to me. Take my life, my magic, whatever you want. Just save the children."
Valdris is quiet for so long I think he's going to refuse. Then: "Show me."
"What?"
"Show me these children worth dying for. Your memories. Through the mark." He touches one claw to his chest where I know a matching dragon mark must be. "The binding allows it. If you permit."
I don't understand how this works, but I nod. "Yes. Look. See them."
The moment I agree, the mark flares. Suddenly Valdris is in my head—not invading, just... present. I feel his shock as my memories flood between us.
He sees Miko coughing blood. Sara trying to be brave while the little ones cry. Marcus's white-knuckled fists. Every child I've ever held while they died from Red Fever or hunger or cold. Every grave I've dug. Every time I've stolen medicine only to watch it not be enough.
He sees my parents turning their backs on seven-year-old me. "Worthless," they said. He feels the loneliness of being told you don't matter. The exhaustion of caring for everyone while no one cares for you.
And he sees why I came here. Not because I'm brave. Because I'm desperate and out of options and would rather die trying than give up.
When the connection breaks, Valdris is staring at me with an expression I can't read.
"You really would trade your life for theirs," he says slowly. "No hesitation. No conditions."
"They're children." I wipe my eyes. "They deserve a chance to grow up. I've already had twenty-four years. If my life can buy them more, then it's worth it."
"Even though they might grow up to be like your parents? Like Theron? Like everyone who hurt you?"
The question surprises me. "Maybe. Or maybe they'll be kind. I'd rather give them the choice than let them burn."
Valdris makes a sound—half laugh, half something else. "Five hundred years I've been here. Hundreds of humans have tried to reach me. Warriors wanting power. Mages wanting knowledge. Nobles wanting wishes. All of them wanted something for themselves." He leans closer. "You're the first one who came asking me to save someone else."
Hope sparks in my chest. "Does that mean you'll help?"
"I can't."
The hope dies.
"What? But—"
"Look at me, little thief." Valdris spreads his wings—or tries to. The chains hold them pinned. "I'm trapped. These chains drain my magic every second. I'm barely strong enough to stay conscious, let alone fight a kingdom. If I could save your children, don't you think I'd have freed myself centuries ago?"
"No." I shake my head stubbornly. "No, there has to be a way. The mark—you marked me. That means something!"
"The mark means we're connected. It doesn't mean I'm powerful."
"Then I'll make you powerful!" The words burst out before I can stop them. "My healing magic—Master Aldric said I'm Dragon-Tender bloodline. He said my magic can break bindings. Let me try!"
Valdris goes very, very still. "Dragon-Tender? Those were hunted to extinction."
"Apparently not all of them." I move closer to the nearest chain. "Please. Let me try. What do we have to lose?"
"You could die. These chains kill anyone who touches them."
"I'm going to die anyway if I don't save the children." I reach out. "Two days isn't enough time to find another solution. You're my only hope."
My fingers brush the burning chain.
Pain explodes through my hand—worse than anything I've ever felt. It's like touching pure agony wrapped in fire and hatred. I scream but don't let go.
My healing magic pours out instinctively, trying to soothe the burn. But something strange happens. The chain shudders. The glow flickers.
"Impossible," Valdris breathes. "You're actually affecting it."
The chain fights back, sending more pain shooting up my arm. Black spots dance in my vision. I'm going to pass out. I'm going to die touching this horrible thing.
But then I feel it—Valdris's magic flowing through our mark, supporting mine. Not taking control. Just... helping. Like two people lifting something heavy together.
The chain cracks.
Just a tiny crack. But it's there.
I collapse, gasping. My hand is burned black, but my healing magic is already working on it.
"You did it," Valdris says, and his voice is full of wonder. "You actually damaged a binding chain. No one has done that in five hundred years."
"One crack." I laugh weakly. "There are thousands of chains. This is impossible."
"Yes," Valdris agrees. "But you just proved that impossible things can happen." He's looking at me differently now. Not like I'm an annoyance or a curiosity. Like I'm... important. "Tell me, little thief. If I promise to help save your children, will you promise to help free me?"
"Yes! Absolutely yes!"
"Even knowing it might take weeks? Months? That you'll be bound to a monster everyone fears?"
I think about Miko's small hand in mine. Sara's brave smile. All thirty-two faces depending on me.
"You're not a monster," I say firmly. "Monsters don't ask permission. Monsters don't care about promises. You do."
Something shifts in Valdris's eyes. Something that might be hope.
"Then we have a deal, Dragon-Tender Elara. I'll help you save your children. You'll help me break these chains. And together—" He smiles, showing teeth that could swallow me whole. "—we'll teach Theron what happens when you hurt the wrong people."
Relief floods through me so strongly I almost cry. "Thank you. Thank you!"
"Don't thank me yet. We still have to get out of here and reach the Husklands before the execution." Valdris eyes the thousands of chains holding him. "Breaking one took everything you had. Breaking all of them will take time we don't have."
"Then we find another way." I stand up, my burned hand throbbing. "Could you teleport us like Catryn did?"
"Not while chained. The bindings prevent—" Valdris stops. His eyes widen. "Wait. You said Catryn used shadow magic."
"Yes. It pulled me into darkness and then I was here."
"Shadow paths." Valdris's voice fills with excitement. "They're dimensional shortcuts. She opened one accidentally because of our mark's connection. But if we could control it..."
"We could jump straight to the Husklands!"
"Exactly. But there's a problem." Valdris looks at me seriously. "Shadow magic is dangerous. And I'm too weak to control it alone. We'd need to work together—our magics combined through the mark. It could kill us both."
Through the walls of the Cage, I hear something—distant drums. A rhythm that makes my blood run cold.
Execution drums.
"They're starting early," I whisper. "They're going to burn them today. Right now."
Valdris hears it too. "Then we have no choice. Give me your hand, Elara. The burned one. This is going to hurt."
I place my ruined hand in his massive claw without hesitation.
Our marks ignite.
Shadows explode around us as our magics crash together—my gentle healing and his terrible destruction. The force of it makes me scream. Makes Valdris roar. The Cage itself shakes.
"Hold on!" Valdris shouts. "Don't let go no matter what you see!"
The shadows swallow us both.
We're falling through darkness. But this isn't empty darkness—it's full of things. Terrible things with too many eyes and voices that whisper my worst fears.
Worthless, they hiss. Useless. Pathetic. Your children will burn and it's your fault—
"Don't listen!" Valdris's voice cuts through. "Focus on them! Focus on the children!"
I think of Miko's drawings. Sara's counting games. Marcus's fierce loyalty. Every laugh. Every hug. Every reason I'm fighting.
The shadows part.
We explode out of darkness and crash onto solid ground. I roll several times before stopping. Everything hurts. My burned hand is worse. But we made it—
I look up and my heart stops.
We're in the city square. The execution square.
Thirty-two children are tied to stakes. Guards are lighting torches. The crowd is cheering.
And standing at the center of it all, watching us with a smile of pure triumph, is Grand War Mage Theron.
"Welcome back, Mercy Thief," he says. "And thank you for bringing me my dragon."
Behind me, I hear chains—new chains, different chains—wrap around Valdris. He roars in fury but he's too weak. They're capturing him again.
"No!" I scream, trying to run to him.
Theron waves his hand. Magic slams into me, pinning me in place.
"You've made this so easy," Theron laughs. "The dragon is weak. You're helpless. And your children?" He gestures at the stakes. "They'll burn in ten minutes. Unless..."
He walks toward me slowly, like a cat playing with a mouse.
"Unless you make a different deal. With me." His smile is poisonous. "Serve me. Use your Dragon-Tender magic to control Valdris completely. Make him my perfect weapon. Do this, and I'll let the children live."
"Don't!" Valdris roars behind me. "Don't trust him!"
But I'm looking at the children. At little Miko crying. At Sara trying to be brave. At all of them about to die.
Theron holds out his hand. "Choose quickly, girl. Them or the dragon. You can't save both."
The torches move closer to the stakes.
The children start screaming.
And I have exactly five seconds to make a choice that will damn someone I love.