We left the city as soon as we had what we needed, no waiting, just Veyra and me heading south through the thinning forest toward the old iron mines. The sun was still low, painting everything gold and shadow. I liked the quiet between us. It wasn’t empty. It was full.

 

Veyra broke it first. “So,” she said, tail flicking lazily behind her, “what is a Sith Lord?”

 

I winced. Right. That. Explaining Earth nonsense to someone who grew up slaying goblins and negotiating with trolls. Perfect. “You remembered that, huh,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “Okay, uh… so, a Sith Lord is—” I stopped. How do you explain Star Wars to someone who thinks “space” is just where dragons fly too high?

 

“It’s a reference from my world,” I said, trying again. “A kind of… fictional villain. Magic, but not magic. They use this thing called the Force — which is basically invisible power that lets you throw people around, choke them from across the room, shoot lightning, all that fun stuff.”

 

Veyra blinked slowly. “So… a mage.”

 

“Not exactly. More like… a mage who’s also a monk with emotional issues and a laser-like sword that can practically cut through anything.”

 

She stared at me. I stared back.

 

“…I’m explaining this terribly,” I admitted.

 

Her lips curved, amused. “And only the ‘asshole in your head’ understands this?”

 

“Yeah,” I sighed. “It’s his fault; he opened that door, and I proceeded to walk right in.”

 

Veyra hummed thoughtfully. “Then this Sith Lord is a title of power?”

 

“In a sense, yes. Once you’re a Sith Lord, it transforms your identity, and you pledge your allegiance to the dark side, essentially becoming and taking the title of ‘Darth.’” I realized I had lore-dumped heavily there and winced.

 

She nodded as if this made perfect sense. “Ah. So, you compare your mysterious Master to this… stylish Darth villain.”

 

“…I mean, when you put it like that, yeah.” I agreed with her statement.

 

She smirked. “Then I look forward to finally putting an end to this ‘Sith Lord’ then.”

 

“Well, I guess that’s going to stick then,” I muttered. “He’s going to hate it...”

 

*I already do.* The author spoke sharply, like a knife carving my skull.

 

*Can it back there.* I looked over my shoulder for a second, pretending he was there for me to shut him up.

 

Veyra glanced over at me with an eyebrow raised. “Seems like he’s listening in.”

 

“Only when it’s convenient to him…” I muttered.

 

We continued our walk, the unevenness of the rocks under our feet as the road ahead of us started to incline. “So… draconoids like you. Your family, your close friends. How rare is the shifting thing, really?” This time, I broke the silence.

 

Veyra’s stride didn’t falter, but her voice softened a little. “Rare. Very rare. Most of my kind are born fully draconic, magnificent, eternal, with wings and scales from the first breath. But only a few bloodlines carry the gift of duality, one blessed by one of the oldest of Dragon Gods – Kukulkan. He’s the one who granted our kind the ability to walk as both dragon and humanoid. My family’s line goes back centuries. We’re guardians, not just warriors. The shift lets us stand among the people we protect… understand them. Protect them from the inside.” Veyra monologued, explaining so much to me.

 

“Wait, Kukulkan?” That’s definitely a name I’ve heard of.

 

“Yes,” she looked back at me, surprised at my knowledge of one of her gods in this world. “You actually know who that is?”

 

“I’m not too familiar with the entire lore of that name, but I know where I came from, once upon a time, is still considered a deity,” I began to rumble my thoughts to her. “Does the name Quetzalcoatl ring a bell by any chance?”

 

Her eyes widened, more surprised than before. “Yes, in our culture, he and Kukulkan are brothers. Basically, they represent two sides of a coin,” she began to explain more in depth. “Kukulkan represents the humanity in us, while Quetzalcoatl represents the actual dragon in us. Both brothers bring about our balance in this world as man and dragon.”

 

“Wow, in my world they are the same, but I guess in this world they are considered brothers,” I scratched my head, trying to wrap my head around all the knowledge given to me. “So familiar yet so different.”

 

“I’m sure our world shares so much with yours, without you realizing,” she told me, with a gleeful smile. “Of course, once we start our journey after this conflict of mine, I’m sure there’ll be tons more familiarity for you.”

 

“Can’t wait and see all of those realizations then,” I said in a very happy tone, then I backtracked a bit from our conversation. I let out a low whistle. “Speaking of realizations, how old are you, exactly?”

 

She laughed softly, a little self-conscious, her tail flicking once, an arm held right behind her. “Old enough to remember when these forests were saplings. Young enough that meeting you feels like the first real thing in a very long time.”

 

I stopped walking. Turned to face her fully. She stopped, too, crimson eyes searching for mine. “If I could live as long as you,” I said quietly, “I’d spend every single day with you. No hesitation. No looking back.”

 

Veyra’s cheeks flushed deep crimson, deeper than I’d ever seen. Her tail curled tight, betraying her. She looked away, then back, eyes shining like the neon orange sky. “You… mean that?”

 

“Veyra, what you said about me, back in the Guild, it meant everything to me,” I spoke only the truth, my hand grabbing hers and bringing her closer to me. “To have someone speak highly of you, to have someone matter to you, be dear to you. That’s what you are to me. And I can never have anybody else besides you by my side.”

 

She closed the gap between us, her breath going down my neck. “Then I want you to stay by my side,” she whispered. “Stay with me for as long as you can. For me, having you all to myself is more than enough.”

 

My hand caressed her cheek, feeling the warmth around my fingers. “Deal.”

 

We kept walking, but the air between us felt different now — charged, warm, as if something that had always been there had finally settled into place. The foundation wasn’t just there anymore. It was solid.

 

A couple of hours deeper into the forest, we ran into more bugs, horse-sized ants again, mandibles clacking like gunfire. Veyra scorched them with controlled bursts of flame. I cut through the rest with quick, precise slashes. Nothing we couldn’t handle. It might’ve been just another day on the road, but for me – for her – our strength together felt unstoppable. The momentum carried us forward.

 

By late afternoon, the forest thinned for good. Grassland gave way to stone, and the rocky terrain rose into a low mountain ridge scarred with old mineshaft entrances. Smoke drifted from the largest shaft, curling into the sky like a warning. Human guards patrolled the perimeter — armored, armed, whips at their belts and short swords glinting in the dying light.

 

Veyra’s eyes narrowed. “I remember this place. When I was a child, there was a secret entrance around the back of the ridge. Narrow. Steep. But it leads straight into the lower tunnels.”

 

I looked at the front gate - ten guards, two watchtowers, chains rattling from cages inside. I grinned. “Tempting. But honestly? I’ve snuck around enough back alleys in Chicago. I’m kinda over stealth today.”

 

Veyra’s fangs flashed in a matching smile. “Good. I’m not in the mood to sneak either.”

 

“When you think about it,” I drew my sword. “If we kick everyone’s ass, then it’s still considered stealth.”

 

 She flexed her fingers, flame licking between them. “I like the logic in that.”

 

We stepped out of cover together.

 

The first fireball came from Veyra, bright, controlled, slamming into the nearest watchtower. Wood exploded. Guards screamed. I charged the gate, powering my sword with my concentrated mana. One swing cleaved through the lock. The doors burst open.

 

Chaos.

 

Veyra’s flames swept the perimeter – precise, never hitting captives. I moved through the encampment like a storm-sword flashing, guards dropping before they could scream. Cages rattled. Chains snapped under my strikes.

 

Children wept with joy. Women clung to each other, tears streaming. Weak beastkin men roared in relief as collars shattered under Veyra’s touch. Every dark band she destroyed cracked like glass, memories of her own imprisonment fueling each strike.

 

A young wolf-eared boy, no older than twelve, stared at the shattered collar pieces in his hands, then up at Veyra. “You… you’re really her. Lady Veyra. We heard the stories... of how you were lost in madness…”

 

She knelt, voice gentle. “I was. But I came back. And now, I’m saving everyone once and for all.”

 

I pushed deeper into the caverns while Veyra stayed back, freeing the last of the surface prisoners.

 

The tunnels stank of sweat, iron, and fear. Torches flickered. More guards, tougher ones, rushed me. I cut them down fast, clean. Swift. No hesitation. This wasn’t justice. It was a necessity. Like the gang shootouts I’d seen back home, only one-sided. My side.

 

At the end of the main shaft stood a mage in dark robes, three armored brutes at his sides. He sneered. “You’re too late, Butcher. The cargo’s already-”

 

I didn’t let him finish. I blitzed the three minions first, sword through armor, precise, lethal. They dropped before they could swing.

 

The mage snarled, raised both hands. He chanted in a tongue I didn’t recognize; for sure it wasn’t good. Black energy surged. The fallen guards twitched, then rose, eyes glowing sickly green, wounds ignored. Necromancer.

 

*Great.*

 

They came at me again, relentlessly regenerating. Their wounds didn’t bleed; they oozed black smoke that smelled like rot and old blood. Every time I cut one down, it twitched back up like a puppet with cut strings being yanked upright again.

 

I gritted my teeth. *Think, Alex. Video games. What puts the undead down for good?* Hours of RPGs suddenly flashed through my head, and then an instant click. *Light. Restoration. Holy.*

 

I focused, channeling power through my blade; light bloomed along the steel, bright, searing. The opposite of the undead ahead of me.

 

I blitzed once again, sword through the first risen guard. His body instantly burst into ash. *Bingo.*

 

*Took you long enough, gamer brain,* the Author muttered. *I was about to start narrating tutorial tips.*

 

*In hindsight,* I flicked my sword, cleaning the sword of the undead’s black ooze. *This looks and feels like a lightsaber.*

 

*Don’t you dare.* I can hear the sudden spike of irritation in his voice.

 

*Okay then,* I thought, letting a smug smile creep on my face. *Shut up over there, I’m concentrating over here!*

 

I tore through the rest of them, light-infused strikes turning rot into dust. The necromancer’s eyes widened. “No-!”

 

Typical coward, he bolted. I chased after.

 

At the far end of the tunnel, Veyra appeared before him, flame coiling around her like wings.

 

I can hear him mumbling to himself as he continues to run before me. A rune started forming at his feet; he tried to teleport, black rift tearing open.

 

Veyra was faster. She slammed her palm into his chest. Flame erupted inward. He screamed once, then silence.

 

She grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground. “Who captured them?” she demanded. “Who provides the collars? Who is behind it all?”

 

The mage coughed blood. “I… I don’t know the master’s face. Messages come through scouts. Orders only. I’m just-”

 

“Who betrayed Kharzad?” Veyra’s voice dropped to ice.

 

He laughed – wet, broken, desperate. “A noble… maybe. Or someone closer. Someone in your god-forsaken family. You’ll never know until it’s too late.”

 

“And what about this so-called cargo?” I asked him, remembering the words I had interrupted earlier.

 

“L-Last I heard, it was going to the kingdom…” His voice cracked, defeated.

 

“What does this cargo have?” Veyra continued her question.

 

“The inhibitor collars.”

 

Veyra’s flame flared – a sudden, violent bloom of heat.

 

He burned. The cavern filled with his screams until there was nothing to scream with.

 

She dropped the charred body.

 

I stepped up beside her, hand on her shoulder. “Hey.”

 

She didn’t look at me at first. Then she did, eyes wet, furious, hurt. “He said… my family.”

 

I pulled her close. “We don’t know that yet.” I kept my voice soft to comfort her.  ”And even if it’s true, we’ll face it. Together. You saved these people today. That’s a win. A big one.”

 

She exhaled shakily, leaning into me. “You’re right.”

 

I tilted her chin up gently. “I’m always by your side. No matter what we find.”

 

Veyra searched my face. Then, slowly, she leaned in and kissed me. Soft at first. Then deeper. Fierce. Grateful.

 

When we broke apart, she rested her forehead against mine, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve lived centuries… and no one has ever made me feel this safe. Feel comfortable.”

 

I smiled, thumb brushing her hair. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

 

*Impressive efficiency, you two. Steamrolled an entire slaver camp in under an hour. I’m so proud.*

 

I groaned. *Read the room, man. We’re having a moment.*

 

*The room is filled with dead bodies and freed captives. Like that’s gonna stop me.*

 

I sighed. “Yeah. Whatever, dude.”

 

Veyra saw my discomfort. “He is teasing you over there?”

 

“Like always.”

 

We turned back to the survivors, children clinging to parents, beastkin helping the weak to stand. One older draconoid man-scales dull from months underground, met Veyra’s eyes, and bowed deeply. “The Emberheart line still burns true. Thank you, Lady Veyra.”

 

Veyra’s jaw tightened, but she nodded once. “You’re all my people, I’ll always come, protect and save you all.” She added.

 

It was time to get them home. And time to start hunting the traitor in the shadows. Whatever, whoever, was waiting.

 

We’d find them. Together.