Blood of the dragon I :Dark encounter

Chapter 8

Without Fear

The witch woke just before dawn.

Kael was already up. He sat near the cave entrance, sharpening his sword with slow, even strokes. The sound was steady. Calm.

That worried her.

“You should rest,” she said.

“I’m not tired,” Kael replied.

She studied him for a moment. His posture was relaxed. Too relaxed. No tension in his shoulders. No hesitation in his movements.

“You should be,” she said.

Kael paused, then went back to the blade. “I know.”

She sat up carefully, wincing. “You’re different.”

“I burned half a ravine,” Kael said. “That tends to change things.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

She pushed herself closer to the fire and held her hands out for warmth. Kael watched the flames, not her.

“Do you remember being afraid?” she asked.

He considered the question honestly. “I remember what fear felt like,” he said. “I just don’t feel it now.”

The witch nodded slowly. “Then the blood has taken its first real payment.”

Kael met her eyes. “What comes next?”

“Anger usually,” she said. “Or certainty. Sometimes both.”

They ate in silence. When they left the cave, Kael walked ahead, sword loose in his hand. He didn’t scan the trees. He didn’t listen for danger.

He didn’t need to.

The ambush came anyway.

A bolt hissed through the air. Kael turned and caught it mid-flight, snapping the shaft in half with one hand.

The witch froze.

Soldiers stepped from the brush. Fewer than before. Smarter. Spread out.

Kael stepped forward.

“Leave,” he said.

One of the soldiers laughed nervously. “Commander wants you alive.”

Kael tilted his head. “That’s unfortunate.”

The heat stirred. Controlled. Familiar.

The witch grabbed his arm. “Kael—don’t.”

He looked at her. “They won’t stop.”

“I know,” she said. “But watch yourself.”

Kael nodded once and stepped past her.

He moved through them like a blade through cloth. No wasted motion. No hesitation. Fire only when needed—short bursts that disabled, not obliterated.

When it was over, two soldiers fled. The rest lay unconscious or broken.

Kael stood still, breathing evenly.

The witch approached him slowly. “You fought like this before?”

“No,” he said. “But it made sense.”

She frowned. “That’s what worries me.”

They moved on quickly. By nightfall, they reached an old road half-swallowed by earth. The witch stopped there.

“This is as far as I go,” she said.

Kael turned sharply. “What?”

“The next part is yours alone,” she said. “And there are things you need to know before you walk it.”

She reached into her pack and pulled out a small, cracked medallion. A dragon sigil was etched into it, worn smooth with age.

“I’ve seen this before,” Kael said.

“Yes,” she replied. “Because I helped destroy the ones who bore it.”

Kael stared at her.

“I was there when the dragons fell,” she continued. “Not as a child. As a participant.”

His grip tightened on his sword. “You hunted them.”

“I survived them,” she said quietly. “And I helped end them because I was afraid.”

Kael searched his chest for anger.

Found none.

“That fear saved the world,” she said. “And now you don’t have it.”

She pressed the medallion into his hand. “The Order didn’t create your problem. I did. And others like me.”

Kael closed his fingers around the metal. It was warm.

“What do I do with this?” he asked.

The witch met his gaze. “You decide whether the world deserves what’s waking up in you.”

They parted without ceremony.

Kael walked alone into the dark road ahead, the dragon’s presence steady and patient.

Fear was never strength, it whispered.

It was a leash.

Kael kept walking.

And for the first time, nothing in him wanted to stop.