The fire came again.
Woods’ palm snapped forward and a wave of flame tore through the air like a breaking tide.
Erron dove behind a tree and fired twice as he rolled, the revolvers barking in quick succession. One shot went wide, splintering bark. The other clipped Woods’ shoulder.
Woods barely reacted.
His hand twisted and the flames split, part of the blast whipping toward Erron’s cover, the rest screaming toward Xander.
Xander stepped forward into it.
ESPUD.
The air warped.
Shadow burst from the ground in jagged strips, swallowing chunks of the fire before it could reach him. The flames hissed out as if dragged into deep water.
But Woods was already moving.
He closed the distance fast.
A fist wrapped in fire slammed toward Xander’s head. Xander ducked, heat grazing his hair, and drove his elbow into Woods’ ribs.
It landed hard.
But Woods answered instantly, a knee smashing into Xander’s stomach, forcing the air from his lungs.
Erron fired again.
Two sharp cracks.
One bullet grazed Woods’ arm, tearing cloth and skin. The second struck dirt as Woods twisted away.
Flames exploded outward from Woods’ hands.
The blast threw burning leaves across the ground, forcing Xander backward as heat ripped through the air between them.
Erron shifted positions, circling wide through the trees.
“Stay moving!” he shouted.
Xander barely heard him.
Woods rushed him again.
This time fire coated both arms, burning brighter as he swung. Xander raised his hand and darkness surged out in a thick wave, colliding with the flames.
For a second the two forces fought in the air.
Fire roared.
Shadow devoured.
Then the blast burst apart, throwing both men backward through smoke.
Xander hit the ground hard and rolled to his feet.
Woods didn’t give him time to recover.
A concentrated beam of fire shot from his palm, scorching through the forest.
Xander raised both arms.
Black energy erupted like a wall, the flame slamming into it and dissolving into nothing.
The ground beneath them cracked from the force.
Erron took the opening.
Three shots rang out.
The first struck Woods in the thigh.
The second tore across his side.
The third shattered against a sudden burst of flame as Woods threw his arm up in defense.
He staggered back, blood darkening his clothes.
But the fire around him grew hotter.
Angrier.
Woods exhaled slowly.
Flames tightened around his fists like burning gauntlets.
Then he lunged again.
Xander met him head-on.
A flaming punch flew toward Xander’s face, Xander caught the wrist mid-swing. Heat seared his skin but the black energy spread across his arm, eating the fire away.
Xander slammed his head forward.
Their foreheads cracked together.
Woods stumbled.
Xander drove a punch into his chest, darkness bursting from the impact like ink exploding underwater.
Woods flew backward into a tree, the trunk splintering behind him.
Erron fired again.
Two bullets tore through Woods’ shoulder.
Woods roared, not in pain, but fury, and slammed his palms into the ground.
Flames erupted outward in a violent shockwave.
The explosion threw Xander off his feet and forced Erron to dive behind another tree as fire ripped across the clearing.
Leaves burned.
Branches ignited.
Smoke thickened instantly.
Woods rose from the flames, breathing heavy now, blood running down his arms.
Fire burned brighter across his hands.
Across the clearing, Xander pushed himself up through the smoke.
His eyes were still black.
Shadow curled around his fists like living ink.
Erron stepped out from behind the tree, revolvers spinning once before settling in his grip.
“Alright,” he muttered.
Woods charged again.
Erron fired.
Xander ran forward.
Fire, bullets, and darkness collided in the center of the burning forest.
Flames tightened around Woods’ arms.
Not wild anymore.
Controlled.
Measured.
His breathing slowed despite the blood on his clothes. The fire that had been exploding outward now wrapped close to his body, coiling along his forearms, settling along his spine like a second skeleton made of heat.
Ember monk.
Even if he wasn’t one anymore... the training was still there.
He stepped forward.
Erron fired immediately, two clean shots aimed center mass.
Woods pivoted.
Not fast. Not frantic.
Precise.
The first bullet skimmed past him as he rotated his torso just enough to let it miss. The second he deflected with a sharp flick of flame, the heat altering its path, so it tore through bark instead of bone.
He was reading them now.
Xander lunged.
Shadow lashed from his arm like a blade, cutting through the smoke. Woods stepped inside the strike instead of away from it, one palm striking Xander’s wrist while the other drove flame toward his ribs.
Xander twisted, black energy swallowing the fire before it could fully bloom, but Woods had already moved again.
He flowed.
One step toward Erron.
Half-step back from Xander.
Fire snapped outward in tight bursts instead of massive waves.
Short, efficient blasts designed to create space and pressure.
Erron repositioned, firing in rhythm now, forcing Woods to divide his focus.
Woods didn’t divide it.
He balanced it.
A quick spin.
A low sweep of flame at Xander’s legs.
A sudden upward flare that forced Erron to duck behind a smoking tree.
Xander charged through the low fire, darkness spreading over his boots as protection, and threw a heavy punch aimed at Woods’ jaw.
Woods caught the strike on his forearm.
Heat met shadow.
The impact cracked the air.
Woods shifted his weight and redirected the force, sliding Xander off balance instead of absorbing it.
Then he struck.
A palm thrust straight into Xander’s chest, not explosive, not wide.
Condensed.
A focused burst of fire detonated point-blank.
Xander flew backward through smoke and ash.
Erron stepped out and emptied a chamber, three shots in rapid succession.
Woods ducked the first.
Turned with the second.
The third...
He vanished from Erron’s sight for half a second.
Not teleporting.
Just moving through smoke with perfect footwork.
He appeared at Erron’s flank.
Erron’s eyes widened.
Too late.
Woods drove a flaming elbow into Erron’s ribs.
The impact echoed.
Heat blasted outward at the moment of contact, a controlled discharge that sent Erron skidding across the forest floor.
One of his revolver slipped from his hand.
He didn’t get back up.
He tried, one arm shaking, but the air had been driven from him and the burn across his side smoked through torn fabric.
“Erron!” Xander’s voice cut through the smoke.
For a split second, his focus broke.
Woods saw it.
He stepped in immediately, fire coiling up his leg like a striking serpent and crashed a kick into Xander’s side before he could fully reset his guard.
Xander staggered, coughing.
Woods didn’t press recklessly.
He backed up one measured step, flame balanced between his hands, keeping both opponents in view.
Erron lay a few meters away, breathing but stunned, trying to force himself up.
Xander stood between them.
Shadow crawled thicker over his arms now.
His jaw tightened.
Concern flickered in his eyes, quick and sharp, but he didn’t move toward Erron.
He couldn’t.
Woods was ready.
The forest around them burned in scattered patches, smoke rising in heavy waves through the trees.
Woods rolled his shoulders once.
Calm again.
Balanced.
“You’re distracted,” his stance seemed to say.
Xander exhaled slowly.
Black energy pulsed stronger around him.
Smoke rolled thick between the trees.
Woods didn’t rush.
He adjusted his stance, heel grounded, shoulders loose, flame breathing with him instead of raging.
Xander wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Espud,” He muttered.
Silence for half a second.
Then...
"Oh? Calling for me already? I thought you preferred struggling dramatically on your own."
Xander’s jaw tightened.
“Just assist.”
"Assist?" A low, amused hum echoed through his skull. "You’re getting handled. Let me take over. I’ll end this in seconds."
“I said assist.”
"You’re adorable when you pretend you’re in control."
Xander stepped forward before the voice could continue.
Woods met him halfway.
They collided hard.
Xander swung first, shadow shaping into a jagged blade from his forearm. Woods shifted his weight and slipped just outside the arc, his palm snapping forward into Xander’s shoulder joint.
A precise strike.
Fire pulsed at the exact moment of contact.
Xander felt the heat penetrate before his darkness could fully swallow it. His arm faltered.
Woods pivoted.
Low kick to the thigh.
Elbow to the ribs.
A burst of flame that forced Xander to guard high.
Which opened his center.
Woods drove a knee into his stomach.
Air left Xander’s lungs in a harsh choke as he staggered back.
"He’s reading you," Espud sighed lazily. "Every movement. You’re predictable."
“Shut up.” Xander said in his head.
"Or I could simply move for you."
Woods advanced again, not wild, not furious.
Disciplined.
He baited a right hook from Xander and slipped inside it, trapping the arm and twisting. Flame wrapped around his own forearm, not to burn recklessly but to force distance and control positioning.
He struck three times in rapid succession.
Ribs, collarbone, jaw.
Each hit measured.
Each hit enhanced with contained bursts of heat.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Xander barely blocked the last one, darkness splintering under the pressure.
He swung back with a surge of shadow, forcing Woods to retreat two steps but Woods used the retreat to gather momentum.
He inhaled sharply.
The flames around him tightened, thinner, hotter, denser.
Then he exploded forward.
A spinning backfist cloaked in concentrated fire cracked across Xander’s guard.
The impact rang through the trees.
Darkness flickered.
Xander dropped to one knee.
"This is embarrassing," Espud purred. "He’s dismantling you with training. Training. How mortal."
Xander pushed himself up again.
Woods didn’t give him space.
Palm strike.
Xander blocked.
Low sweep.
Xander stumbled.
Upward kick.
It caught him under the chin and snapped his head back.
He hit the forest floor hard.
Leaves scattered.
For a moment, the world rang.
Through blurred vision, he saw Woods standing over him.
Posture steady, breath controlled, fire still perfectly balanced along his limbs.
No wasted movement.
No rage.
Just refined technique honed in isolation.
"Let me in," Espud whispered now, softer. "You’re going to lose."
Xander coughed, forcing himself onto an elbow.
“I don’t need you to fight for me.” He spoke again in his head.
"You clearly do."
Woods stepped forward, flame pooling into his palm for another focused strike.
Xander rolled just as it came down, heat scorching the ground where his head had been.
He surged to his feet again, shadow flaring thicker this time, less clean, more volatile.
Woods’ eyes narrowed.
He adjusted instantly.
They clashed again.
But this time...
Woods controlled the rhythm entirely.
Every time Xander tried to overpower him, Woods redirected.
Every time Xander tried to create distance, Woods closed it efficiently.
A sharp body shot landed.
Another precise elbow cracked against Xander’s temple.
A heel kick drove into his side and sent him skidding through dirt and ash.
He was stronger.
But Woods was better.
Across the clearing, Erron groaned faintly, still struggling to push himself up as he crawled toward his revolver.
Woods didn’t even look at him.
He didn’t need to.
His focus never left Xander.
Xander stood again, slower now, breathing heavier.
Smoke curled around them.
"Last chance," Espud murmured. "Give me the reins."
Xander wiped blood from his lip again.
“No.” He murmured.
Woods stepped forward.
And drove a flaming palm straight into Xander’s chest.
The flaming palm hit like a collapsing star.
Heat detonated through Xander’s chest.
The impact lifted him off his feet and hurled him backward through smoke and splintering wood. He crashed into a tree hard enough to crack it down the middle, bark exploding outward, and then kept going.
Another trunk stopped him.
The world went white.
Then black.
Wind.
Not hot.
Not choking with ash.
Cool.
Soft.
He blinked.
Sunlight filtered gently through a window.
“Mira?”
A small pair of feet slapped against wooden floorboards before he even finished saying her name.
She burst into the room like she always did, too fast, too bright, a sheet of paper clutched in her tiny hands.
“Xander!” She beamed. “Look what I made!”
He was sitting cross-legged on the floor. No smoke. No blood. No arena.
Just home.
She shoved the paper into his hands.
Crayon mountains. A sky too blue. Two stick figures standing at the top of a cliff, holding hands. One slightly taller. One with wild scribbles for hair.
“That’s you,” She said proudly, pointing at the taller one. “And that’s me.”
He smiled softly.
“I figured.”
She bounced in place. “We’re explorers! See? We climbed all the way up here.” Her finger traced the peak. “And then we’re gonna go to more places. Like the snow mountains. And waterfalls. And maybe even the ocean!”
Her eyes were wide with the kind of certainty only children have.
“When I get older,” She declared, “We’ll travel everywhere. Just me and you!”
Xander looked at the drawing again.
The mountain peak.
The two of them at the top.
Exploring the world together.
He nodded.
“Definitely.”
She grinned and flopped down beside him, leaning against his arm. He felt the warmth of her shoulder. The weight of her trust.
He knew.
Even then.
That he wouldn’t be there.
The Death Wish had already been announced. His name already whispered in council halls. He’d made the decision long before she’d drawn that mountain.
She didn’t know.
She just kept talking excitedly about places she wanted to see. About how she’d pack snacks. About how he’d carry the heavy stuff because he was “strong and grumpy.”
He laughed quietly at that.
She looked up at him.
“You promise?”
The question was simple.
Too simple.
He hesitated only a fraction of a second.
Then he nodded again.
“Yeah. I promise.”
She seemed satisfied with that.
Laid her head against his arm.
Closed her eyes like the future was something gentle and guaranteed.
The sunlight felt warmer now.
Too warm.
The edges of the room began to blur.
The mountain drawing in his hands darkened at the corners, black seeping inward like ink spreading across paper.
Mira’s voice grew distant.
“You won’t leave without me… right?”
The question didn’t sound playful this time.
The warmth faded.
Smoke crept into the edges of the dream.
The mountain peak in the drawing began to burn.
And somewhere far away...
A voice whispered.
"Get up."
Not Mira.
Not God.
Espud.
The smell of ash returned.
The crackle of fire.
The taste of blood.
And the promise he made sat heavy in his chest.
He opened his eyes.
Bark crunched under Xander’s boots as he pushed himself upright.
Everything hurt.
Across the clearing, Woods stood waiting.
Not rushing.
Not pressing.
Just watching.
Smoke drifted between them, the crate half-visible beyond scorched earth and shattered trunks. Embers floated lazily in the air.
Xander rolled his shoulders once.
Inside his head, the silence didn’t last.
"Back for more?" Espud’s voice curled through his thoughts, amused. "You’re limping."
“Five seconds,” Xander murmured internally. “You take over. Five.”
A pause.
Then a low, delighted hum.
"Five is generous. I only need three."
“Five,” Xander repeated.
"Fine."
Across from him, Woods shifted into stance again.
Heel grounded, shoulders aligned, flame coiling tightly around his forearms.
Controlled. Centered. Ready.
Xander stepped forward.
Darkness pooled faintly at his feet.
The air between them tightened.
They stared each other down.
Woods’ fire brightened.
Xander’s shadow thickened.
And just as Xander let go,
The sky split with a roar.
A massive shape tore through the smoke above them.
Red.
Gold.
Wings spanning wider than the clearing itself.
A Redborne in their dragon form slammed into the forest floor with a thunderous crash, earth exploding outward from the impact. Trees bent. Leaves blasted from branches. The shockwave forced both Xander and Woods to leap back instinctively.
The dragon’s head reared back.
Then...
Fire.
Not a focused blast.
A sweeping inferno.
Dragon breath erupted in a wide, circular arc, spinning outward from the beast’s body to clear the area.
It wasn’t aimed.
It was dominance.
The forest ignited in an instant.
Woods pivoted, bracing.
Xander raised his arm as the ring of dragon fire roared toward them.
Heat unlike anything before, heavier, denser, ancient.
ESPUD.
The shadow surged.
Black tendrils burst from Xander’s palm, twisting outward to meet the incoming inferno. They didn’t cancel it cleanly, dragon fire was too powerful for that, but they forced it apart, splitting the wave enough for survival.
Woods stepped in closer instinctively, using Xander’s shadow as partial cover while raising his own controlled flame to reinforce the defense.
The dragon fire split around them, devouring trees behind and beyond.
Woods and Xander shot each other a sharp look through the heat haze.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Xander said, in a harsh tone.
"I didn't do that for you," Woods said, with a stoic tone.
The dragon continued its rotation, breath sweeping in a full circle to scatter anyone nearby.
Its massive body pivoted.
The arc of fire moved
Toward Erron.
Erron was barely upright, one hand gripping a tree for support, his revolvers hanging uselessly at his sides now.
He wouldn’t outrun it.
Xander’s eyes snapped toward him.
ESPUD!
"Finally," The devil purred.
Darkness flooded downward, coating Xander’s legs in a thick, purple-tinged shadow. The ground beneath his feet cracked as power surged.
And then...
He moved.
Not a sprint.
A blitz.
The forest blurred into streaks of ash and green as he tore through it faster than he ever had before. Trees whipped past. Embers shattered against the shadow around him.
The dragon breath was seconds from swallowing Erron whole.
Xander reached him in a heartbeat.
He grabbed Erron by the collar and pivoted, slamming a wall of shadow outward with his free hand.
The black barrier erupted upward and outward, thick and heavy like liquid night turned solid.
Dragon fire crashed against it.
The impact shook the ground.
Flames screamed and split, sliding around the shield in violent waves, scorching everything else in their path.
Behind the barrier, Erron coughed, staring up at Xander in disbelief.
“Well,” He rasped, “Thanks.”
Xander didn’t answer.
The shadow held.
For now.
Across the burning clearing, Woods stood watching the dragon, fire still balanced at his hands, calculating.
The Redborne dragon finished its sweep and lowered its head toward the supply crate.
It hadn’t even acknowledged them.
To it, they were obstacles.
Not threats.
The forest burned brighter.
And Espud’s laughter echoed softly in Xander’s mind.
"Five seconds," He whispered. "Let’s make them count."
Xander didn’t move.
Didn’t surge forward.
Didn’t chase.
The purple-black coating around his legs flickered once… then receded.
"That’s it?" Espud’s voice curled, disappointed. "You had momentum."
“I'm not fighting a dragon,” Xander replied internally again.
Across the clearing, the Redborne lowered its massive head. Golden eyes scanned the scorched battlefield once, assessing, indifferent.
Then it clamped its jaws around the supply crate.
Wood splintered under its bite, but it didn’t slow.
With a powerful thrust of its wings, it launched upward. Wind blasted outward, scattering embers into spiraling trails of orange and red.
Leaves tore free.
Ash lifted.
And then the dragon was rising above the canopy, shrinking against the smoke-stained sky until it vanished into the distance.
Silence followed.
Not total silence.
Just the kind that comes after violence, when the only sounds left are the crackle of burning wood and the slow collapse of ruined trees.
The forest smelled like char and sap.
Xander lowered the shadow wall completely.
Erron straightened beside him, brushing ash off his shoulder and watching the empty sky.
He let out a long breath.
“Well,” He muttered, voice hoarse, “There goes the crate.”
No one argued.
A few meters away, Woods stood still, flames finally dimming along his arms. His breathing had steadied again, though blood still darkened his clothes. He didn’t look frustrated.
Just thoughtful.
The three of them stood in the scorched clearing, the fight stolen from them by something larger.
Erron glanced sideways at Xander.
“You were about to do something reckless, weren’t you?”
Xander didn’t answer.
In his head, Espud sighed.
"You let prey walk away."
“It wasn’t prey.” Xander spoke internally again.
"Everything is prey."
Across from them, Woods shifted his stance slightly, not attacking, not retreating. Just watching.
The crate was gone now.
Smoke drifted between them in slow, lazy spirals.
Xander and Erron stood side by side.
Woods stood several meters away.
No one moved.
The crackling of dying flames filled the space where shouting had been minutes ago.
Erron leaned slightly toward Xander without breaking eye contact with Woods.
“Why isn’t he leaving?” He whispered.
“I have no idea,” Xander replied quietly.
“Maybe he still wants to fight.”
“Probably.”
Erron considered that.
“Should we ask him?”
Xander slowly turned his head and looked at him like he was a dumbass.
Erron shrugged defensively. “Communication is healthy.”
Then, without waiting...
He raised his voice. “So! You still wanna fight or something?”
Woods didn’t answer.
He simply crossed his arms over his chest.
And stared.
Unblinking.
Erron lowered his voice again. “Yeah, I have no idea what that guy wants.”
Xander exhaled through his nose.
“We should go back to the girl.”
Erron blinked. “She won’t let us have the water.”
“She might if we—”
Footsteps.
Crunching ash.
Woods began walking toward them.
Erron stiffened immediately. “Oh. Oh he’s coming. He’s definitely coming.”
Xander’s shoulders tightened. Shadow stirred faintly at his feet.
Woods stopped a few feet away.
Close enough that the heat still lingering around him was noticeable. Close enough to fight again.
He looked between them.
“You two made me lose my crate.”
Erron straightened. “Your crate?” He said, genuinely offended. “That was our crate.”
“No,” Woods replied evenly. “It wasn’t.”
“Yes, it was.”
“It wasn't.”
“Yes, it was!”
“No.”
“Yes!”
Xander closed his eyes.
Rubbed the bridge of his nose slowly.
The forest behind them continued to smolder.
Finally, he cut in.
“It wasn’t anyone’s crate,” He said calmly. “It was a supply drop. The Redborne took it.”
Silence.
Woods didn’t argue that.
Erron folded his arms. “Still ours.”
Woods glanced at him. “You didn’t even touch it.”
“We were about to.”
Another pause.
Xander opened his eyes again.
“We can argue about ownership,” He said evenly, “Or we can get it back.”
Both of them looked at him.
Woods’ expression shifted slightly, not softening, but sharpening.
Erron blinked. “Get it back.”
“Yeah.”
“From a dragon.”
“Yeah.”
Erron let out a slow breath. “You say things very calmly for someone suggesting that.”
Woods studied Xander carefully now.
“Why would I work with you?” he asked.
Xander didn’t hesitate.
“Because we want the same thing here.”
Woods’ jaw tightened slightly.
“And,” Xander continued, “You know we can handle ourselves.”
Erron gestured vaguely at the scorched battlefield. “Exhibit A.”
Woods’ eyes flicked between them.
"I know you can, not so sure about him." He looked at Erron.
"Huh? You wanna go again? We can go again." Erron walks forward.
But Xander calmly pulls him back.
After a moment, Woods uncrossed his arms.
“Redborne's in their dragon forms don’t travel far when carrying weight,” He said. “It's inconvenient for them. Tires them out eventually, they'll need clear ground.”
Erron slowly turned to Xander. “Is he…?”
“Yes,” Xander said.
Woods continued, tone steady. “It will land somewhere open to break the crate safely.”
Erron’s mouth twitched. “So that’s a yes?”
Woods didn’t nod.
Didn’t smile.
He simply turned slightly, gaze shifting toward the distant horizon where the dragon had disappeared.
“If we move now,” He said, “We might catch it before it leaves the forest biome.”
Erron looked at Xander.
Xander looked at Woods.
Smoke curled around all three of them.
“Well,” Erron muttered, adjusting his grip on his revolvers. “Temporary team-up number two?”
Xander didn’t respond immediately.
But he stepped forward.
Woods followed.
And after a brief pause...
So did Erron.
The forest had gone quieter the deeper they moved.
Ash still clung to the bark of trees. The smell of smoke lingered faintly in the air, mixing with damp soil and crushed leaves under their boots.
They walked in a loose line. Woods slightly ahead, posture straight, alert. Xander a step behind him. Erron drifting between serious and restless.
For a while, no one spoke.
Then Erron cleared his throat.
“You know,” He said casually, spinning one revolver around his finger before tucking it back into place, “This little dragon detour might actually work in our favor.”
Neither of them responded.
Erron continued anyway.
“I doubt Lavender’s gonna stand by that lake waiting for us all day. We go back? She'll probably be long gone, And then all that freshwater is ours, baby!”
Xander kept his eyes forward.
“We'll see."
Woods glanced slightly over his shoulder. “Who are you talking about?”
Erron perked up immediately. “Oh. So. Before we ran into you, Mr. Shit Monk.”
Woods didn’t react.
“We were trying to get freshwater from this lake. Lavender wouldn’t let us.”
“She said,” Xander added evenly, “We could share if we retrieved the supply crate first.”
Erron nodded. “Which we did. Kind of. Briefly. Before you and the dragon decided it was community property.”
Woods’ brow lifted slightly. “You two were scared to fight a girl?”
Erron stopped walking for half a step. “Hey. She looked strong, okay?”
Woods’ expression barely shifted.
“She stabbed him,” Erron added defensively, pointing at Xander.
Xander nodded once. “It’s true.”
Woods let out a short, low chuckle.
Erron’s eyes narrowed. “What are you laughing at, punk?”
“Just you two,” Woods replied calmly. “I guess you both have a track record of losing.”
Erron made a noise of pure offense. “Oh that’s rich. Says the guy who just lost "his" crate.”
“It wasn’t yours,” Woods said.
“It wasn’t yours either,” Erron shot back.
They locked eyes again.
Xander kept walking.
Erron pointed at Woods. “You got shitted on by a dragon.”
“And you got shitted on by me.” Woods replied.
“What was that, Fuckface?"
“Coreless cowboy,” Woods added flatly.
“Homeless monk,” Erron snapped back.
“Gun decoration.”
“Walking torchlight.”
“Water beggar.”
“Supply-drop orphan.”
They continued trading insults as naturally as breathing, neither one smiling but both fully committed.
Xander walked between them, eyes half-lidded, listening to the verbal crossfire bounce over his head like stray arrows.
"You truly have terrible taste in partners," Espud’s voice murmured smoothly inside his head.
Xander didn’t react outwardly.
"The loud one is fragile. The monk is brainless. You could do far better."
Xander exhaled quietly through his nose.
"You say that as if I had options." He spoke internally.
"You do," Espud replied. "Me."
Xander’s gaze flicked slightly downward.
"You are not a partner."
"I could be," Espud said lightly. "If you stopped pretending you are in control of this arrangement."
Ahead of him, Erron had begun dramatically listing insults that were losing structure halfway through delivery.
Woods responded with shorter, sharper remarks that landed far more efficiently.
Xander let the noise wash over him.
"They are liabilities," Espud continued softly. "The dragon will not be."
Xander’s voice in his mind was flat.
"You don't know that."
A pause.
Then a quiet hum of amusement.
"I know this," Espud said. "When it matters... you will call for me."
Xander didn’t answer.
Up ahead, the trees began thinning slightly.
The ground sloped upward.
Woods slowed his pace, lifting a hand slightly to quiet the arguing behind him.
Erron stopped mid-insult.
The forest opened just enough to reveal disturbed treetops in the distance.
Something large had landed ahead.
Woods’ voice lowered.
“It’s close.”
The three of them fell silent.
And kept walking.
The trees thinned into a shallow clearing.
Grass bent under the weight of something large that had landed not long ago.
They crouched behind separate trunks, far enough apart to not look like a cluster, close enough to speak in whispers.
In the open, the Redborne stood in human form now.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Ash still clinging faintly to dark clothing. A faint heat shimmer lingered around him like the air itself remembered fire.
He knelt beside the crate, prying it open with steady hands.
The lid snapped back.
Supplies glinted inside.
The three of them watched.
Erron leaned slightly toward the others. “So. What’s the plan?”
Woods didn’t take his eyes off the clearing. “One of us draws him away. The other two grab what they can and leave.”
A beat.
Then Woods slowly turned his head toward Erron.
Erron immediately shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. I am not the bait here. Back me up, Xander.”
Xander didn’t look at him right away. He watched the Redborne lift something out of the crate, checking it, inspecting it.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Xander said calmly.
Erron stared at him. “You’re taking this hairy fuck’s side?”
“I’m taking no sides,” Xander replied evenly. “Just saying it’s a good idea.”
He gave a small shrug.
Woods’ mouth curved faintly, not quite a smile, but close enough to be irritating.
Erron pointed between them. “Unbelievable.”
He leaned forward again. “How about this. I loot the crate. You two fuckwads play hero and distract the scaley menace. Seeing as how you two actually stand a chance and I don’t.”
Xander nodded slightly. “We could do that too.”
Woods’ gaze slid back to Erron.
“Being bait,” Woods said smoothly, “is the most important role here.”
Erron squinted. “Don’t start.”
“The biggest responsibility,” Woods continued. “It requires speed. Awareness. Charisma.”
“Charisma?”
“It’s what you were made for, Erron.”
Erron’s eye twitched. “You think you’re funny.”
“Or maybe,” Woods replied calmly, “You’re just easy.”
Xander exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose again.
Behind them, a bird startled from a branch.
In the clearing, the Redborne paused briefly, then resumed sorting through the crate.
They were running out of time.
“Enough,” Xander said quietly.
Both of them looked at him.
“I’ll loot the crate.”
Erron blinked. “What?”
“You two distract him.”
Woods studied him carefully.
Erron leaned closer. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
Erron glanced toward the clearing. “You’re the least subtle one here.”
“I don’t need to be subtle,” Xander replied.
There was no arrogance in it. Just a fact.
Woods tilted his head slightly. “And if he notices you?”
“He won't,” Xander said.
A small silence followed that.
Erron stared at him like he was trying to figure something out.
“Are you sure?” Erron muttered.
Xander didn’t answer.
Instead, he nodded once.
Erron sighed dramatically. “Great. So me and Smokey Bear over here get roasted while you go shopping.”
Xander’s gaze flicked between them.
“Keep him looking at you,” He said simply. “That’s all I need.”
In the clearing, the Redborne stood fully upright now, crate open at his feet.
Woods slowly stepped back from the tree.
Erron muttered under his breath, checking his revolvers.
Xander lowered himself closer to the ground, calculating distance, angle, timing.
Inside his head, Espud’s voice coiled softly.
"You trust them to hold a dragon’s attention?"
"Long enough," Xander replied internally.
A pause.
"Don't expect me to help this time."
Xander’s jaw tightened slightly.
Woods gave Erron a look.
Erron rolled his shoulders.
Then the two of them stepped out from the trees.
Into the clearing.
Erron’s voice cracked through the air.
“Hey! Over here!”
The Redborne’s head snapped toward him immediately.
Revolvers in hand, Erron fired off two quick shots, the bullets sparking against the thick underbrush as they zipped past the Redborne’s shoulders.
Woods didn’t waste a moment. Flames licked from his palms, streaking toward the Redborne, forcing him to dodge and twist.
A low rumble built in the clearing as the Redborne’s chest expanded. His eyes glowed faintly, scales beginning to push against his human form.
A roar split the air, deep, fiery, primal.
The forest shivered around them. Leaves fell, small branches snapped.
Erron vaulted to the side, spinning as he fired another round, narrowly avoiding a blast of dragonfire. Woods’ flames collided with the heat from the Redborne, crackling and exploding in bursts of light and smoke.
Xander crouched low, one careful step at a time, covered by the chaos. His eyes fixed on the crate.
The Redborne unleashed a sweeping dragon breath, a wall of heat and fire moving across the clearing.
Erron hid behind Woods for cover. Woods twisted away, sending a pillar of fire in a counter arc to split the breath.
Xander moved like a shadow, low to the ground, barely noticeable amidst the roaring, the crackling, and the chaos of claws and fire.
The crate sat ahead, unguarded, but not for long.
Xander’s heart thumped, pulse matching the rhythm of the battle. Every step closer made his decision weightier, every breath more calculated.
The Redborne swung his head, scanning for the source of the bullets and flames. Erron and Woods danced in the firestorm, keeping him occupied, while Xander inched silently toward his goal.
Each movement had to be perfect. One mistake, one glance upward, and he would be roasted before even touching the crate.
But he didn’t hesitate.
Xander grunted, straining against the weight of the crate. Both arms wrapped around it, but it barely budged. His muscles screamed, and frustration prickled his skin.
Espud... He thought fleetingly, knowing there was no point. This was his job, his responsibility, he’d do it himself.
He shifted his grip and began dragging the crate along the ground, scraping it across roots and dirt. Each inch forward felt like progress, small but vital.
Behind him, the chaos continued. Erron shifted and rolled, firing his revolvers at every opening, using Woods as a moving shield. Woods moved with precision, flames arcing, twisting, and absorbing the Redborne’s dragonfire in bursts of blackened smoke and light. Together, they were a wall of distraction.
Xander’s focus was absolute. One hand on the crate, the other steadying himself as he inched toward the cover of the trees. He could almost feel the treeline brushing against his vision. Freedom was within reach.
And then...
A sudden, sharp thud crashed against the back of his head.
Pain exploded, hot and blinding. His grip faltered.
The crate slipped from his hands. Dirt sprayed as he collapsed forward.
The world tilted. The sounds of gunfire, flames, and dragon roars blurred together.
And then… darkness.
CHAPTER 2 END
