The words settled over me like a weight, pressing into my skull, curling around my thoughts like frost creeping over glass. I knew what he'd done. The elf had cast something—some kind of spell, quiet and wrong. I didn't know the name for it. Didn't want to.
Magic.
I hated the stuff. I'd seen it twist men into monsters, turn soldiers into things they weren't meant to be. And now, it had brought a dragon straight to my throat.
She watched me in silence, golden eyes steady, unreadable. That faint amusement from before hadn't faded. If anything, it had settled deeper, like she already had everything she wanted and was just waiting to see how I'd squirm.
"Now, human. Tell me everything."
Her voice was calm. Too calm. But there was a weight behind it I couldn't ignore. The spell worked. I understood her as clear as if she'd been speaking Common the whole time.
My stomach turned.
You're still alive. For now.
I forced my jaw to unclench. "Everything?" I asked, trying to keep some shred of defiance in my voice. It came out hoarse.
She tilted her head, lips curling faintly. "Yes. Everything. Start from the beginning."
I glanced toward the elf. His expression gave away nothing, but I saw it in his posture. He was tense. Careful. Scared.
I licked my lips, trying to stall. My thoughts were slow. Every answer felt like it could open another trap.
"We were sent to kill the cultists," I said. "The lord who hired us didn't care how. Just that they stopped breathing. Said they were getting bold. That they were growing too strong."
She hummed low in her throat. "And why would a human lord concern himself with such things? Your kind shun magic, do they not?"
There was weight in her voice again. Not just curiosity. Expectation.
I gave a tired breath. "Because things are changing."
Her brows lifted slightly. "Explain."
"There've always been sorcerers. Hiding in the cracks. But now they're crawling out. Some kingdoms are training them. Others are hunting them before it gets out of hand."
She didn't blink. Just listened. Then she said something in Draconic, voice curling with something like amusement. The elf didn't respond right away. Then finally turned to me.
"She says your people's fear of magic is… pathetic."
I let out a breath. Almost a laugh. "You'll get no argument from me."
Her eyes flicked to the spear in her hand. She traced one claw down the length of the runes, slow and deliberate. "And yet your kind sought to claim this."
I shook my head. "No. We were sent to take it from them. That was it. It was never ours to begin with."
"To lock it away?" she asked. "Destroy it?"
"Maybe. I don't know. But it wasn't for us."
She studied me like she was reading a book. "And yet, you fought for it."
"I did what was expected of me."
The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. She stepped forward, and I had to force myself not to recoil. The ice beneath her feet didn't even creak. It just accepted her.
Of course it did. This place probably existed because of her.
"You say you fear magic," she said. "And yet your kind use it when it suits you. You kill over it. You die for it."
I didn't answer.
She smiled faintly. "You're a contradiction."
I wasn't sure if that was supposed to be an insult. Or a compliment. Maybe neither.
The elf shifted beside me, visibly uncomfortable. He didn't meet my eyes. He knew what I hadn't said. He probably already thought I was a dead man.
The dragon let out a slow breath, turning the spear again, letting the runes catch the light. "This power—this interest in magic among your kind. Where did it begin?"
I hesitated. "That's… hard to say. There's always been people drawn to it. But after the curses, no one wanted to touch it. Not publicly."
"The curses," she repeated, almost fond. "Primitive. But effective. Had I not intervened, your species would have collapsed completely. I argued for restraint. That balance could still be preserved."
She said it like she was talking about culling livestock.
I clenched my teeth. Didn't ask what intervened really meant.
"But that was two thousand years ago," she went on. Her claw tapped the spear once, soft and hollow. "I asked when this shift began. Not your first mistakes. I want to know when your kind started claiming things like this."
I drew a slow breath. "I don't know," I said. "We thought they were just fanatics. But if they had things like that—maybe it wasn't just them. Maybe a kingdom sent them. Or backed them. We didn't get the chance to find out."
She watched me for a long moment, then gave a quiet sound I couldn't place. Almost like laughter. "Still ignorant. Even now. And yet, here you are. Still breathing. That's rare."
Her tone shifted again, thoughtful now. "Perhaps I should make use of you."
My blood ran cold.
Use me?
She didn't move at first. Just studied me like she was weighing something.
"You can die here and now," she said lightly, "or you can live. With whatever consequences I choose."
The elf's voice came low beside me. Quiet. Barely audible.
"I would choose death."
I froze.
No. Not like this.
My heart thudded in my chest. I forced myself to meet her eyes.
"I want to live."
Her smile widened, slow and deliberate. "Very well."
She raised her hand. Bit into her fingertip with a casual grace. Blood welled up dark and slow. Then she drove that finger into my chest.
Pain tore through me.
Cold flooded my veins like molten ice. I couldn't scream. Couldn't breathe. The sound died in my throat as the ice climbed higher, eating me alive from the inside out.
The last thing I saw was her face.
Calm. Almost peaceful.
Then everything went dark.