The cave exhaled around them, its breath stale and thick with the scent of wet stone. The flickering light from Sera's makeshift torch painted the walls in jagged strokes, casting shadows that twisted like living things. Eryk Thorn sat on a flat, moss-covered stone, his fingers digging into the rough surface as if it could anchor him against the unease gnawing at his ribs.
He watched Sera move deeper into the cave, her silhouette sharp against the dim glow. She moved with purpose, her boots silent on the damp rock, her knife glinting faintly at her hip. She didn't look back at him. She never did.
Eryk swallowed.
We shouldn't be here.
The thought was a drumbeat in his skull, relentless and insistent. The cave wasn't just dark—it was wrong. The air itself felt heavy, pressing against his skin like a warning. The void inside him, that hollow place where the Null Grimoire now lived, pulsed faintly, as if recognizing something in the blackness.
Something is here.
"Sera," he called her, his voice low but sharp.
She didn't stop.
"Sera!"
This time, she paused, glancing over her shoulder with an arched brow. "What?"
Eryk gestured vaguely toward the mouth of the cave, where the rain still poured in silver sheets. "We should've kept going. The Wastes aren't far. If we stay here too long, the Black Tongues—"
"Will catch us faster if we wander in the open like idiots," Sera cut him in, rolling her eyes. "Sit down, Stray Dog. You're giving me a headache."
Eryk's jaw tightened. He wanted to argue, to drag her back out into the rain by the scruff of her cloak if he had to. But the stubborn set of her shoulders told him it was useless.
So he stayed.
And he watched her wandering around.
Sera vanished into the deeper shadows, her torchlight flickering like a dying star. For a moment, there was silence in the cave. Eryk couldn't see her anymore so was a bit worried.
"Huh."
Eryk stiffened. "What?"
No answer.
Then, the unmistakable clink of metal.
"Gold!"
Sera had found gold.
Eryk's stomach twisted. Nothing good ever came from gold in places like this. It was bait. A lure for fools who didn't know better.
But Sera wasn't a fool.
She was something worse. A reckless, stubborn girl.
Eryk pushed himself off the stone, his muscles protesting as he crept after her. The cave narrowed, the ceiling dipping low enough that he had to hunch, his breath coming too fast. The air grew warmer, thicker, carrying a scent that made his skin prickle.
Fire.
Not the clean, bright burn of a campfire.
At the far end of the cave, half-buried in a nest of charred bones and tattered cloth, lay an egg.
Not a bird's egg.
Not anything natural.
It was massive, its shell a deep, iridescent black, shimmering faintly in the torchlight like oil on water.
Eryk's breath caught.
"Dragon..."
The word was a lightning strike in his mind.
Dragons were myths. Stories told to scare children into obedience. They hadn't been seen in centuries, not since the Purges, when the Council had hunted them to near extinction.
But the egg was real.
And Sera was reaching for it.
"Don't," Eryk hissed.
She didn't listen. Her fingers brushed the shell, and then something moved in the dark.
Two glowing eyes snapped open in the blackness beyond the nest, burning like embers in a dead fire.
Sera froze.
Eryk's blood turned to ice.
The dragon uncoiled from the shadows, its scales black as the void between stars, its massive body filling the cavern like a storm given form. Heat radiated from it in waves, the air trembling with the promise of flame.
Sera didn't move. She couldn't even breathe while lookong at the dragon slowly getting out of its den.
Eryk wanted to scream and to run.
But his body refused to obey.
The dragon's nostrils flared, its breath a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through the stone beneath Eryk's feet. Its gaze locked onto Sera—small, fragile, trespassing Sera—and Eryk saw death in those eyes.
Run.
But Sera didn't run.
She whispered to Eryk.
"Eryk..."
His name was a prayer on her lips.
He didn't answer because he was too shocked to see a real dragon in front of Sera.
"Eryk," she hissed again, her voice barely audible over the pounding of his own heart.
The dragon shifted, its claws scraping against stone. Its muscles were coiling.
Eryk's body finally remembered how to move.
He lunged toward her.
He crashed into Sera, his arms wrapping around her waist, dragging her back just as the dragon struck.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Fire erupted from its maw, a torrent of molten gold that scorched the air where Sera had stood seconds before. The heat seared Eryk's skin, his vision swimming with afterimages of flame.
"A DRAGON!!!"
Sera twisted in his grip, her knife already in her hand, her eyes wild. "What the hell are you doing?!"
Eryk didn't have time to answer.
The dragon roared, the sound shaking the cave walls, sending loose pebbles raining down around them. It lunged again, its massive body moving with terrifying speed despite its size.
Sera reacted first.
She shoved Eryk aside, ducking beneath the dragon's snapping jaws, her knife flashing as it scored a shallow line across its scaled throat. The dragon recoiled with a hiss, its blood sizzling where it dripped onto the stone.
Eryk scrambled to his feet while his hands were shaking.
"Sera—stop!"
She didn't.
The dragon was hurt.
Eryk saw it now. The way it favored its left side, the ragged tear in its wing, the way its movements were just a fraction too slow. It wasn't hunting them.
It was protecting the egg.
But Sera didn't see. Or maybe she didn't care.
She struck again, her blade finding the gap between scales, drawing another furious snarl from the beast. The dragon retaliated, its tail whipping around with enough force to shatter bone. Sera barely dodged, rolling to the side as the impact sent cracks spiderwebbing through the cave wall.
Eryk's chest tightened.
The dragon was wounded and exhausted. It couldn't win.
But neither could they.
Not without one of them dying.
Eryk moved before he could think.
He stepped between them, his arms spread, his body shielding the dragon.
Sera's knife halted inches from his throat, her eyes wide. "Move there, Stray Dog!"
"No!"
The dragon's breath was hot against his back, its growl vibrating through his bones.
Eryk didn't flinch.
"It's hurt," he said, his voice steadier than he felt. "It wasn't attacking us—it was protecting its egg."
Sera's grip on the knife didn't waver. "It's a dragon, Eryk. It'll burn us alive the second it gets the chance."
"Then why hasn't it?"
The question hung between them.
The dragon hadn't used its fire again. Hadn't pursued them beyond the nest. It was defending, not hunting.
Sera's jaw clenched. For a heartbeat, Eryk thought she might shove him aside and finish what she'd started.
Then, slowly, she lowered her knife.
The dragon didn't attack.
It watched them, its massive chest rising and falling in labored breaths, its glowing eyes flickering between them and the egg.
Eryk exhaled.
The dragon collapsed.
Its legs buckled, its body hitting the stone with a thud that echoed through the cave. Its breath came in ragged, wet gasps, its sides heaving.
Eryk dropped to his knees beside it, his hands hovering over its scales, unsure where to touch or how to help.
"It's dying," Sera said quietly.
Eryk didn't want to believe her.
But the dragon's eyes were dimming, its fire guttering out. The wound on its side was worse than he'd thought—deep, festering, the edges blackened as if by poison.
It had been dying long before they arrived.
The dragon's head lifted slightly, its gaze locking onto the egg. A low, mournful sound rumbled in its throat.
Then, it stilled.
The light in its eyes faded.
Eryk's throat tightened.
Sera exhaled sharply, sheathing her knife. "Damn it!"
Eryk didn't speak. He reached out, his fingers brushing the dragon's scales one last time. They were still warm.
Sera moved past him, crouching beside the egg. She studied it for a moment, then reached into her pack, pulling out a length of cloth.
"What are you doing?" Eryk asked, though he already knew.
Sera didn't look at him as she carefully wrapped the egg, securing it in her bag.
"We're taking it."
"What?!"
"It's food, Eryk. Or it could be sold. Either way, we're not leaving it here to rot."
Eryk stared at her. "It's a dragon's egg!"
"And we're starving!" Sera stood, adjusting the weight of the pack on her shoulder. "You want to survive or not?"
Eryk opened his mouth to argue, but then, he stopped.
What was the alternative? Leave it? Let it die alone in the dark, like its mother had?
He looked back at the dragon, its massive body already cooling.
It had fought to protect its child.
And now it was gone.
Eryk swallowed the lump in his throat and stood.
"Fine."
Sera nodded, turning toward the cave's entrance. The rain had stopped, the faint light of dawn filtering in from outside.
Eryk took one last look at the dragon.
Then he followed her into the light.
~○~
The forest greeted them with a silence that felt heavier than before. The trees stood like sentinels, their leaves dripping with rainwater, the air crisp and clean after the storm.
Sera walked ahead, her grip tight on the strap of her pack. The egg weighed heavily inside.
Eryk couldn't stop thinking about it.
A dragon.
Alive.
Or it would be, if it hatched.
What then?
Would it burn them in their sleep? Or would it look at them with those same glowing eyes, lost and alone, like Eryk had been his whole life?
He didn't know.
And that terrified him.
Sera broke the silence first.
"We should cook it tonight."
Eryk stiffened. "What?"
"The egg. It'll spoil if we carry it too long."
Eryk's stomach turned. "We're not eating it."
Sera shot him a look. "You got a better idea?"
"Yeah. We don't."
Sera scoffed. "Sentimental."
"It's not—" Eryk cut himself off, frustrated. "It's not about that. Dragons are extinct, Sera. Or they were. This might be the last one."
"And?"
"And what? You really want to be the reason they disappear forever?"
Sera stopped walking, turning to face him fully. Her expression was unreadable. "You think the Council would hesitate? You think your father would?"
Eryk flinched.
Sera's voice softened, just a fraction. "The world isn't kind, Eryk. It doesn't care about dragons or eggs or hollow boys with too much heart. You want to survive? Then you make hard choices."
Eryk looked away with his fists clenched.
He hated that she was right.
But he hated the idea of that egg cracking open in a pan even more.
"We'll find another way," he said finally.
Sera studied him for a long moment. Then, with a sigh, she turned and kept walking.
"Fine. But when you're starving in three days, don't blame me."
Eryk followed, the weight of the egg. It was too heavy between them.
The forest stretched on, endless and indifferent as they continued travelling.