Iona had been very quiet since the…incident in the rainforest. She did not neglect answering whenever Cilas spoke to her, and she was as soft and kind as ever. But she made no attempts to start conversations. Putting her foolishness with the fish from her mind was not so easily done. It was the only thing she could think about as the whole scenario played itself over and over in her thoughts. She was too embarrassed to speak—eye contact was still impossible for her. Fortunately, once they had gone beyond the rainforest they came across a little village. There, she was given new clothes to wear. It was nothing elaborate, and it did not quite fit her petite frame perfectly, but it was better than her shredded dress. This is simply because the village was very poor, and could hardly afford many clothes of various sizes to fit everyone. So they would modify the clothing to fit proper. The only reason hers is different is because they were not given the amount of time needed, for Iona and Cilas are travelers that were not to be kept waiting. So they did what they could just to keep her clothes on her body. It was a simple white bodice with long trumpet sleeves. The top was so large that one side would often slip down a ways to expose her pale shoulder. And, with Iona being unaware that even such a small thing caused an issue with modesty, she hardly fixed it. An underbust corset was snug around her tiny waist, while a pair of black leggings hugged her fine legs. A pair of leather boots protected her feet. As soon as they had arrived, they were off once more. Iona followed Cilas at a distance and watched in silence as the scenery turned magical. Twin rivers flowed on either side of them, their waters shimmering in different colors. The grass was lush and smelled fresh, the trees tall and shady. Small critters danced through the air. Many appeared like humans, but their ears were long and pointy with wings sprouting from their backs. It was the first thing to successfully distract Iona from her embarrassment as she gazed at the wonderful land with fascination. How splendid it was, so pure, so vibrant. And, before she knew it, the sun began to fall and the moon rose. Cilas set up their next camp. Iona sat at the roots of a tree, back to the trunk, while she silently watched him make another fire. Her arms hugged her legs against her chest, chin in knees. When she spotted him glancing back at her, she quickly averted her gaze to anything else, her cheeks warm. When will she finally get over the humiliation? Everyone makes mistakes; it is nothing for her to linger on. She released a quiet sigh and closed her eyes. The Wisp attempted to turn her thoughts away from the now past events, and towards any other thought. Quickly, a foreign, yet oddly familiar tune played in her brain. She began to hum along to it, voice soft like a lover’s, but quiet like a whisper. There was an image behind her closed eyes—the image of a piece of clothe within her own hands. She sewed together each threat with great care while the distant warmth and light of a fire burned at her right. An almost silent creaking sounded in her ears, matching the pace and rhythm of her slight back and forth swaying. Beneath her working hands is a blanket of fur, so soft, so warm, while a dark wooden floor stretched into the darkness ahead. She was in a building, perhaps someone’s home. She did not know who’s, but there was the strange sensation that it was hers, yet, not. A small smile played at her lips.

The rode to Veda was quieter than most of their trip. It was strange to him, since before the whole ordeal with the Gar Iona used to talk far more about even the smaller things that she saw. Now though, she would hardly say a word unless Cilas spoke to her directly. Not only that she would hardly look the dragon in the eyes like she would before. He had to admit, he did not like this. He had enjoyed the small conversations that the two of them had shared before hand. Now though it seemed like he was doing naught but escort her to a destination.

They did manage to stop at a nearby village in order for Iona to get a change of attire. The shopkeep that they spoke wished for them to stay longer in order to modify the clothes that his companion picked out, but both of them decided to try and get on the road as fast as possible. The shopkeep did their best in order to patch up the clothes and for the most part she did well for the time constraints. The bodice that she picked out was one of the few pieces that was a bit too large as one of the sleeves tend to fall a little off of her shoulders. All in all it was better than the completely destroyed dress that she was wearing.

Soon enough they approached their next destination. Veda, the ephemeral valley that sat between the twin rainbow rivers. It was a beautiful and enchanting place, but still held an air of danger if one did not know how to navigate its paths. Not only that the pixies that made their homes here also liked to play tricks on travelers as well, luckily for them they could sense the dragon’s bloodline and tended to leave him alone everytime he passed through. The tricksters knew better than to play their games with a being such as he. The sun was falling and they needed to set up camp and get a fire lit.

He set up the fire while Iona rested between the roots of a larger tree. He had noticed that when he looked back to check upon her her gaze would always shift to something else. A small sigh escaped his lips as he ignited the wood again with his magic. Managing to get the fire roaring he got up and took a seat at a tree next to the one Iona was at. She had her eyes clothes at this point. Perhaps she was asleep? No, because he could barely make out the slight humming that escaped her.

The first time I had heard her hum, perhaps remembering some of the music when the small town threw their festivals

Before long though Cilas eyes started to drift close as well. The night and exhausted walk getting to the best of him. Yet before he finally drifted off to sleep, he managed to pick up the smell of something else in the air. He could not say anything though..as his eyelids were just far too heavy.

As the quiet crackling of the fire and the warmth of her blanket offered her comfort, the work she did of sewing threads and fabrics together relaxed her. A song was sun softly from her own lips, a tune and lyrics she seemed to only know by heart but had no memory of.

“The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,
They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.
I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,
Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.”

There was a quiet mew that gave Iona’s song pause. She turned her eyes downward and spotted a black cat, sitting at her feet. Its wide golden eyes watched her from the floor, offering yet another mew. Iona giggled lightly. Setting her fabrics and threads aside on the small rounded table next to her, she pat the empty area upon her lap. The cat leaped up at the given permission. A rumble vibrated within its chest, bubbling up its throat as it rubbed his head against her waiting hand. She stroked it between its tall ears, then down its back when it lay down. Its warmth instantly started soaking through her blanket and heating her thighs. She continued her song:

“The royal circlet of bright gold rests lightly on my brow,
I once thought only of the rights this circlet would endow.
But once I took the crown to which I had been schooled and bred,
I found it heavy on the heart, though light upon the head.”

Once the cat was happily asleep, she took up her fabrics and threads once more. The design was a simple one. The base color was a deep blue, with roses of a much lighter blue elegantly sewn with thorny vines entwining together along the edges of the long and thin fabric. Along the center it was empty. The fabrics she had chosen were wool, as she had focused more on comfort and warmth rather than beauty.

“Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,
The true Queen knows her people fed, before she sits to feast.
The good Queen knows her people safe, before she takes her rest,
Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before she makes request.

For they are all my children, all, that I swore to defend,
It is my duty to become both Queen and trusted friend—
And of my children high and low, from beggar to above,
The dearest are my Heralds, who return my care with love.

The dearest are my Heralds, swift to spring to my command.
Who give me aid and fellowship, who always understand
That land and people first have needs that I may not deny—
So I must send my dearest friends to danger—and to die.

A friend, a love, a child—it matters not, I know indeed,
That I must sacrifice them all if there should be the need.
They know, and they forgive me—doing more than I require,
With willing minds and loving hearts go straight to grasp the fire.

These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears the Queen can't shed,
The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my Heralds dead.
Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—
Amd if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!”

As she finished her song, a voice echoed from somewhere else within her house. It sounded feminine, and although she could not hear the woman’s voice clearly, she somehow knew it was her own. Yet, not a sound left her lips. And it spoke a name—her name. Iona lifted the cat from her lap and gently set it down on the floor, then stood from her rocking chair. Curiosity carried her on bare feet through the dark halls of the building. The voice called her onwards, guiding her to her bedroom door. She entered warily, and found herself staring face to face with the image in her mirror on the opposite wall. Iona approached her reflection, but it did not mimic any of her movements. And…her face…it was blurred.

“Wake up,” it said. Very abruptly, its hands reached through the mirror and gripped her shoulders firmly. “Wake up!”

Iona’s eyes flung open with a racing heart. She gazed around the unfamiliar room, the fear from her dream turning to confusion. Where was she? Last she saw, she was sitting against a tree in a vast field of beauty and magic. Now—now she was in a small room, the dim light of three lit candles barely bright enough for her to see Cilas’ sleeping form nearby. She tried to move, to reach over to pull him from his rest. But she could not. Something was firmly holding her wrists together behind her back, restricting her movements. “Cilas,” she called, thinking of using her voice instead. “Please, wake up.”

A dream, a sweet dream the dragon was having. He was dreaming of being back home in the Cradle, being welcomed by his brood. It was almost as if he was some slight if celebrity for returning after leaving. He was greeted by everyone within the village, even his brother welcomed him back with open arms. It was that moment that Cilas realized he was dreaming. A dream induced by the smell that he picked up as he was drifting off to sleep. There was no way that his brother would have been so welcoming to Cilas, not after how he had left the village.

Please wake up

The words rang out through the air as he got a look of confusion on his face. Those around him had a look of curiosity on there faces. ” I’m sorry…again I must leave..this, this is a fabrication…a false reality.” The dream now becoming lucid and Cilas took steps back. The smiles did not fade from the faces of his family around him. This is what he perhaps wanted to see when he left the first time. ” I'll return in due time…” The final words he said before everything started to fade to black once more.

Thump thump …thump thump…..

Cilas' head was killing him as his eyes slowly opened. The dim light of the candles of the room seemed to blind the dragon. It must have been the side effects of whatever herb was used to knock out both Cilas and Iona. ” I am awake now, though not in the best of shape.” He said and tried to move his arms but they were stuck behind his back, tied up. He tried to pull against the bindings but he couldn’t snap them, in his human form at least he could not. ” Seems we were captured. It must have been one of the tribes that make Veda their home. Seems like we can’t catch a break no matter where we travel.”

Cilas managed to move around so that he was sitting up. ” Are you okay?” he asked Iona as he looked around. It was a simple cloth tent. There was nothing around that he could use to break the bindings. He had already tried to use magic as well, but they must have used runes to bind his magical abilities as well. He was hoping to take Iona through the area to see the sights of the valley. The sounds of footsteps came up to the opening of the tent. Two figures stepped inside, the faces hidden by ornamental masks. Their clothes primitive the only distinguishing features were the luminescent eyes and tattoos that were on their bodies.

They pointed towards Iona and started to speak in a language that was not familiar to the Dragon. Only once did they glance over at Cilas before departing the tent. ” Indeed it was the Vedan tribes…and something tells me that they are more interested in you than me.” He wondered if they caught that Iona was a spirit inhabiting the body of a human. Suddenly a fear struck the dragon if they thought she was possessed…would they try to expel the spirit from its vessel? A vessel that was willingly given to the spirit.

Relief washed over Iona as Cilas reacted to her calling. He sat up and also discovered that he, too, was restrained from moving. But he remained calm, a small thing that allowed Iona a sense of reassurance. She knew not what was happening, even when Cilas voiced his beliefs that they have been captured. Iona tilted her head curiously. Why would anyone capture them? Had they done something wrong? Cilas then asked if she was alright, to which she responded with a gentle nod, “Yes, I am unharmed.” A glance over herself confirmed it, and a thorough glance over Cilas made her believe he had not been harmed either.

Abruptly, two strange figures walked in. Iona could not understand the language they spoke to each other, but their gestures and gazes were directed towards her. As they left, Iona gave Cilas a confused expression. He admitted that he shared her suspicions that these people were most interested in her, and she shook her head lightly. What could they possibly want from her? She has nothing to offer them, nothing of value. Although, she supposed they would not know any better. They did not know that she is knew to this world, and Cilas is the one with experience and knowledge. “What might they desire from me?” She muttered softly, so much so that she was unsure whether Cilas heard her voice.

She would never know, because the men returned. Indeed, she was the one they approached. They pulled her to her feet and roughly dragged her towards the exit. Her eyes were wide as she tried to glance back at Cilas, her heart pounding. As they stepped out of the tent, Iona was immediately greeted by many masked faces of both men and women. She could not see their expressions, but their eyes did not make her feel welcomed. For some reason, there was something in her gut that screamed something was wrong—very wrong. They were all silent as she was forced through the crowd until a large circular area opened before them, empty from the crowd avoiding it. Standing in the center was another masked man, but this one wore beads, threads, jewels, paint, and even what appeared to be bones, all as decorative ornaments. He appeared so strange compared to the people she’d seen thus far, yet his attire held a kind of beauty that made her shiver. And beneath his feet, a peculiar design was marked into the ground. Along its edges, were metallic restraints that were embedded into the ground. Iona swallowed hard.

The men holding her turned her around to face the crowd, all eyes falling onto her. Then, the one with the heavy decorations stepped next to her. He began to speak, still with words she could not understand. Some within the crowd exchanged glances with each other, while others nodded, or even offered quiet replies. The other two released their hold on her and stepped back, allowing the third to come even closer. His yellow eyes were glowing beautifully as they looked over at her, but the way they stared was hard, almost burning. Suddenly, he reached out and pulled her top down beneath her bosom, exposing her chest to the crowd. She inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut with humiliation. Why would they do such a thing in front of so many eyes? Why do it at all? It was then that she became glad that Cilas was not there to witness it. Seeing her once had been bad enough. She did not think she could handle a second time.

Her face burned to her ears as she waited for something to happen. But it wasn’t until something smooth and cold pressed against the side of one of her humble breasts that she slowly opened her eyes. And then, they grew wide. The man was holding a large white stone to her skin. Various colors shimmered beneath its surface, each one glittering more brilliantly whenever the light shined on them directly. It was a charming stone, but the knowledge of what it was made her heart stop dead.

Spirit opal. A beautiful and rare stone that is oddly filled with spiritual energy. They are one of very few inanimate objects that spirits can use as their vessels. It is not a popular choice, since it strips all movements from the spirit. But it was highly used by spirit fearing mortals. Those who are skilled with the right abilities can force a spirit from the body they possess and move said spirit to the opal, where they are then trapped and kept like birds in a cage. Spirit opals were used for exorcisms. It was the sight of that beautiful stone that gave Iona her first feeling of true fear. They must know that she was a Wisp. Somehow. But if she is removed from her body…she will die.

Almost instantly, her own spiritual energy reacted to that which was contained inside of the stone. A blue light, matching that of her Wisp form, shined from beneath her pale skin, right between her breasts. This is what he wanted to expose—proof that this body is not her own. Outbursts rang from the crowd, but were quickly silenced by the man next to her. She wanted to run—she needed to flee. But she was frozen, her terror making her knees wobble unsteadily. Cilas…she needed Cilas! But before she could cry out, she was pulled down to the ground and held on her back. Her bindings were undon only for her arms and legs to be spread and were bound again. The metal restraints were cold against her flesh. Her bare chest heaved quickly, and the man with the stone kneeled beside her. She gazed up into his eyes, her own wide with fright. “Please, I mean no harm,” she quietly pleaded. His response was not understood, then he put the strap attached to the opal around her neck, leaving the stone to sit on the glowing spot on her naked chest. Once they begin, her soul will leave her body and enter the stone. If her spirit can survive the journey.

The man stood and whirled around with his arms wide open, facing the crowd as he announced something. Then, silence fell upon them all. She waited with bated breath, her head turned to watch the tent Cilas waited in. Silently, she thanked him, apologized for all of the wrongs she had done, and for being a burden to him. She could not escape on her own, so she could only hope that Cilas will leave this place unharmed.

The heavily dressed man turned back to her and raised his hands, speaking a chant in his language. Pain instantly shot through her body, and she screamed. It only worsened as the ritual continued. Whatever power they were using, it was working. Her soul was being forcefully ripped from her body. The sensation was as if someone was tearing her apart, beginning with her skin, then her flesh, her veins and bones, and every fiber of her internal organs. Her back arched, lifting herself as high as she could as her head pressed hard against the ground. Above her chest, the form of the Wisp began to emerge. The further her soul was pulled, the brighter the blue ball of light shined, flickering wildly as even the bodiless spirit screamed in silence. Tears formed in her eyes and blurred her vision, until she forced them shut as tightly as she could. All she could hear were her own bloodcurdling cries from the agony washing over her.

The two men once again entered the Tent, and as CIlas and guessed before they grabbed Iona and forced her to her feet. Cilas tried to get up but his bindings pulled him back onto the earth and he looked into Iona’s eyes as she turned to face him as she was dragged away. ” Don’t fear them, I will let nothing happen to you. I swear it.” He called out to Iona as she disappeared beneath the cloth that closed off the tent from the outside. The dragon once again pulled on the bindings and using his strength to try and severe them. They still held strong…strong to his false strength in the form that he took.

You could easily save her. Rescue her from whatever cruel fate that could be awaiting her.

He fought with himself as he tried to still hear what was going outside of the tent. He could now hear a man speaking. He had a more authoritarian tone than the two that dragged away Iona. He must be either the chieftain or the witch doctor of the tribe. Both were held on larger pedestals than anyone else of tribal societies such as this. Still, he sat upon the ground, his arms shaking from anger and gritting his teeth as he stared at the entrance of the tent. The back of his mind he was hoping that she would be dragged back in and he would be the next.

You did not fear her, her for what she truly was. You guided her to a life that she could finally live, not trapped by the bounds of that lake. Do you think she would fear a person that she so deeply tries to please?

He was not blind to what she was trying to do for him during their travels. How often she had tried to prove her worth to him. She was trying to show him that she appreciated what he had done and payback for all that he had taught her. He did not need any of it though, he just wanted her to live. Now though, it may all be taken from her and he just sat and watched while he had the power to free her. Damn it you foolish dragon.

He heard the sound of a crowd call out, then the man started the chant again before it fell silent. Then a scream, Iona’s scream of pain rang out through the silence. His body shook violently as if he felt like he was gonna break. Forgive me, Iona…Forgive me for causing you pain. I pray that you do…as I will not allow them to kill you. He pulled once more against his bindings and they snapped easier than anything. Standing up he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before letting out a roar louder than what should come out of a human.

He stepped out of the tent, his fingernails on his hands extended like claws, eyes now slit-like as a snake. The crowd turned to face him, fear so much fear he could see in their eyes. He glanced down at the ground and saw a bluestone strapped to Iona’s bare chest. Spirit Opal, a stone may exorcist used to rip an unwanted soul from item or person. The witch doctor that was conducting the exorcism order two of the warriors that stood by to attack Cilas. One charged with a spear and aimed right for the dragon’s chest.

Splinters flew, as the stone-tipped spear shatter upon impact. The other warrior stopped his charge and backed away slowly. The Witch Doctor tilted his head in confusion, wondering why Cilas was not dead. Flames licked the corner of Cilas’ mouth and he breathed in again.

Please…Please do not fear me…

He opened his mouth and a massive amount of flames circled the blood mage growing more and more in size. Those unfortunate to get caught in the sphere were burned to ash before any could help them. From beneath the globe, one could make out wings and a tail. A roar was let out again and the flames dispersed. Silver scales shimmered in the light of the fires. Now stood a dragon, Cilas’ true form. Cilas extended his large wingspan, his green eyes staring right at the witchdoctor. 3 small vortex’s appeared next to Cilas’ wings that fired off a fireball at the warriors that tried to throw spears at him. He reached out with one of his front claw and destroyed the spirit opal that was attached to Iona.

He glanced down at the woman, and while his focus was turned a blast of energy hit the dragon in the face cause him to stumble a little. Quickly his attention turned to the witch doctor, the dragon’s assailant. The dragon’s right front claw sunk a little into the ground the force of magic could be felt by those around him, and behind the witch doctor, stone walls rose around him, and a dome of stone covered Iona. The sound of wind could be heard as Cilas inhaled deeply through his nostrils.

’Your life, is over.” An echoing voice rang through the air, one could pick out hints of Cilas voice while he was human.

His maw opened and a stream of shot out against the curved walls. Slowly Cilas crept forward, as he continued to breathe the white flame. Plants nearby erupted into flames just from the heat and turned to ash almost instantly. A few more seconds passed before Cilas was done with his assault and all that remained was the charred skeleton of the witch doctor, the wall behind him was almost molten from the intensity of the dragons breath attack. Cilas released the stone wall and as it crumpled down the bones that were once standing the started to get blown away as dust.

Please, stop! Iona pleaded, but she could not speak beyond her screams.

It hurts! Please, stop this!

Her face was stained with tears while her weak body trembled, her skull threatening to crack, and stomach fighting to keep everything down. It was all caused by her pain. She did not understand why they were doing this to her—she couldn’t think to find out why. The only thing going through her mind was the agony, how much she wished she had not been so helpless to let this happen. And Cilas… She regretted leaving him like this. She had not repaid her debt to him, nor had she been able to discover how she could show how deeply her gratitude was rooted. He gave her life, protected it, guided her and taught her. He showed her so many wonderful things, a world with undying beauty. But above all else, he showed her kindness and tenderness and patience and understanding. It was that which began to give her hope that she might one day make a place for herself in his world, a permanent home. But, before it had even begun, it has started to come to an end. Her mind was so overcome by the pain that she did not hear the angered roar which shook the air.

“I curse you! Deceitful demon, venomous viper who speaks nothing but lies, I curse you! Suffer until your dying day, suffer in all lives beyond! Lose all that you love most, and you shall know my pain! Conniving little Witch, I curse you for all eternity!”

The furious words dripped with loathing as they echoed in her head. A brief image of herself flashed with it, tears falling from her eyes as she fell to her knees. Before her was another woman, whose face was blurred. She was the one cursing her for reasons unknown. Iona did not know what the vision meant, nor why it came to her so suddenly, but she did not care. As her soul slipped further from her body, all feeling started to fade. Her pain gradually numbed until there was nothing left but a throbbing ache. And she knew it was almost done. Not much longer until the Wisp would be entirely removed, left waiting above her chest in all of its blue brilliance. Then, it was to be locked within the Spirit Opal. But after this beating, and after the damage it took as it had been slowly slipping into the mortal world at Moonlake, Iona was not confident her spirit could take much more damage. It will die before the man can reach it, and it will fade away as if it never existed. As her pain dulled, her tears became tears of sorrow. She wanted Cilas. Just a chance to tell him how much she appreciated what he’d done for her, and to apologize for her wrongs. That was all she asked.

Then, the crowd rose their voices. They sounded distressed, and when the man exorcising her rose his own voice, all halted at once. Instantly, she fell back onto the ground, chest heaving heavily, body quivering violently. She was weak, but she did not waste a moment to call her spirit back to her body. The Wisp’s light began to dim as it returned, and every nerve, every part of her mortal flesh started feeling again. The glowing between her breasts remained, but the ritual which was pulling on her soul had stopped. She sobbed quietly, relief washing over her to an overwhelming degree. It was over. Somehow, it was over.

Shouts and screams and roaring turned her attention elsewhere. The crowd dispersed, and the men wielding weapons held themselves with hostility and fear. And further ahead, their target, was Cilas. He had broken free from his restraints. But there was something different about him. Her eyes widened at the claws on his hands, claws that could easily tear into flesh. His eyes were slit like a reptile’s, and within them was endless rage. The armed men attempted to attack him. Her heart leaped anxiously as their spear et with Cilas’ chest, but the staff shattered, the stone tip crumbling. His other attacker paused and stepped back, as though he were fearful of her companion. Flames burned from his lips, and very abruptly it spread, surrounding him in a protective sphere. Its size escalated, reducing all those unfortunate enough to be caught to nothing but ash. Those that were just out of its reach were set aflame. Within the flames, a larger shape formed. Then, a roar shook the earth and the flames scattered. Her blood froze as she beheld the creature before them. Silvery scales were thick and hard like armor, appearing impenetrable. The long and large body was coated with rows of horns standing at various heights. His claws were like spears, his tail a dangerous whip that could easily shatter bones with a single blow. His jaw was filled with vicious teeth made to kill, with wings that Iona imagined could knock many men off of their feet should they provide a single beat. His eyes alone could burn a man with the anger that filled them.

He spread his powerful wings and began his own attack. The spearmen were killed with great ease. Then, he turned his eyes onto her. Iona’s breath caught in her throat. He reached out with a single claw and shattered the stone, displaying ease so that she the pressure would not harm her. The glow between her breasts dissipated, and she completely forgot that her bosom was naked before him when their eyes met. She should fear him. She should tremble in the presence of such a creature—its claws made to pierce, its jaws made to break and kill. She should be concerned for her own safety as the men around her were. Her thoughts should be filled with the word “Run”. She should fear him. And, she did.

But not in the same way as those who conjured Cilas’ wrath.

She feared being without this magnificent creature, having to live without ever seeing it again, without its protection. She feared never knowing this side of him beyond this one occurrence, never knowing every part of Cilas. Its might left her awestruck, how such a powerful being had the power to easily kill an army, but could still be gentle enough to break only a stone without harming the fragile woman beneath it. It was that small act that showed her that no matter how his body changed, it was still Cilas. His heart held the same kindness and tenderness.

Suddenly, his eyes tore away from hers as a magical blast collided with his long and strong head. He stumbled back, and her heart leaped anxiously as she cried out his name, “Cilas!” But her worry was for naught. The blow did not harm him—it was only fuel to his rage. She followed the path of the attack to see the exorcist. He stood with foolish bravery. Cilas sunk a claw into the hard ground and the earth shook. Stone erupted, curling over her in the shape of a sphere. Darkness surrounded her as it closed, blocking Cilas from her sight and muffling every sound from the other side. She waited with bated breath, wishing to know what was happening. Then, a roar like that from a tornado sounded nearby. Even through the hard and protective surface, heat licked her skin. But it did not burn. She could only imagine the intensity of it outside.

Her heart beat a few more times anxiously, and then the roaring ended. The stone covering her crumbled to the ground, somehow avoiding her figure and fell to a pile rubble. She looked over to see another pile of stone stretched in a line, as if a mighty wall had stood there as well. Beyond, Cilas stood alone, triumphant. Her watery blue eyes met with his fierce ones, overflowing with joy as her lips softly upturned into a tender smile.

Once again, he saved her. There was no chance she could ever repay the debt.