The sun of this new world burned bright and warm, though the air itself was cool and sharp.

  Zeff barely had time to breathe.

  At that moment, he was clinging for dear life to the back of a massive black-and-white dragon. He looked around in confusion, fingers slipping against her scales. The wounds from his previous battle were still fresh, still bleeding.

  As he forced himself to crawl forward, a violent gust of wind slammed into him, nearly tearing him free. He slipped, crashing hard against the dragon’s broad body. Before he could recover—

  A spear tore through the air and lodged itself deep into the dragon’s wing.

  She shrieked in agony.

  Below them, an army pursued relentlessly. Two figures rode ahead of the ranks — one mounted on a black horse, the other on a white. They hurled spears skyward, each weapon enlarging unnaturally as it climbed toward its target.

  Zeff gritted his teeth and dragged himself toward the spear embedded in her wing.

  He didn’t know if this was the right choice.

  But he knew one thing.

  He couldn’t just do nothing.

  “This is probably a bad idea…” he muttered. “But whatever.”

  Using the last of his strength, Zeff pulled himself upright against the roaring wind and grabbed the spear. As he began to wrench it free—

  The dragon shrieked in pain and twisted her long neck to face him.

  Her scales were a breathtaking contrast of obsidian and ivory — black flowing along her spine like spilled ink, white softening the curve of her throat and underbelly. Silver-tipped horns swept elegantly backward, framing eyes that burned not with wild savagery, but with fierce, protective intelligence. Even wounded and bleeding, there was something undeniably regal about her.

  “Ahhh! Stop! Don’t—don’t remove it!”

  Zeff froze.

  “Did you just… speak?”

  “Of course I did. Get off me, you vile creature!”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Vile? I’m trying to help!”

  Blood dripped steadily from Zeff’s side, staining her scales as he stumbled, forced to lean against the very spear he intended to pull free.

  The dragon hesitated.

  Why would a human help her?

  Before either could say more, another spear pierced her leg.

  She faltered.

  The ground rushed closer as she lost altitude.

  Zeff clung desperately to the spear shaft as she plummeted — until, at the last second, she forced her wings open. The impact of air caught beneath them, barely keeping them aloft.

  “What reason would you have to help me, child of man?” she demanded through labored breaths. “Your death is imminent.”

  Zeff gave a faint, crooked smile.

  “Exactly. If I’m going to die… at least let me make sure someone else lives, right?”

  Her eyes widened.

  She had no time to process his answer. Blood loss was slowing her. Weakening her.

  Zeff grasped the spear again, reopening his own wounds in the process.

  “This thing isn’t helping you fly,” he rasped. “It’s going to hurt… but at least you—can—”

  His strength faltered. His vision blurred. The wind clawed at him, battering his broken body, but still he pushed forward, legs trembling as he tried to pull the weapon free.

  The dragon watched in disbelief.

  A human.

  On the brink of death.

  Still trying.

  “We’re both going to die if we do nothing,” Zeff growled. “Let me help you.”

  She studied him — wary, uncertain.

  Then, slowly, she shifted one of her smaller wings aside.

  Beneath it lay a tiny dragon cub, fast asleep despite the chaos.

  “Take her,” the dragon said softly. “Her name is Eve. Keep her alive. I will not survive this.”

  “What? No—you’re going to survive this. I just—”

  His voice wavered as he nearly collapsed.

  With a tired sigh, the dragon wrapped her tail around Zeff and the cub, pulling them closer.

  “Your stubbornness is infuriating. I would rather protect my cub myself. Humans are known only for lies and deception… but what choice do I have? I am already dead. You, however, may yet live. So I place her life in your hands.”

  “If you don’t trust humans, why me?” Zeff breathed. “You don’t even know me.”

  Her gaze lowered to the blood staining her tail — blood that was not hers.

  Then she looked back at him.

  “What is your name, human?”

  “Zeff. I… I…”

  “Zeff… you will care for this cub. Promise me you will give her the life I cannot.”

  He clenched his jaw.

  “…Damn it. I will. Alright?”

  Zeff clutched the small dragon to his chest, nodding fiercely.

  His promise did not waver.

  Without warning, the dragon dove.

  She angled sharply and dropped them into a rushing river below.

  The impact knocked the air from Zeff’s lungs. Under the clear veil of water, he forced his eyes open.

  Through the distortion, he saw her.

  The massive dragon, her belly pierced with spears, wings failing at last.

  With his last strength, Zeff kicked upward and broke through the surface, gasping for air just in time to see her body crash in the distance.

  The sound echoed through the valley.

  Silence followed.

  Coughing, Zeff dragged himself to the riverbank and immediately checked the cub in his arms.

  Still asleep.

  Somehow untouched.

  A faint, exhausted smile crossed his face as he collapsed onto the shore.

  What was this world?

  Who had that dragon been?

  Why was he here?

  And what was he supposed to do now?

  So many questions.

  But for now—

  All he could do was surrender to exhaustion.

  Darkness took him