The wind howled in Stephan’s ears as Death folded her wings close, diving fast and low. The desert blurred beneath them until the fleeing riders came into sharp focus. Two horses, their hooves pounding across the sand, their riders cloaked in gleaming white and gold.
"Hold," Stephan commanded, and Death obeyed, tilting her wings so that she skimmed directly above them.
The elves looked up, eyes widening in unmasked shock as the shadow of a dragon engulfed them. Their mounts reared back in panic, neighing and striking against the sand. The sight of Stephan perched upon the dragon’s back must have struck them like a vision of nightmare.
Stephan caught the flash of surprise in their faces, and his mouth curved into a grin. Good. Be afraid.
Death swept past, her wings thundering, sand and wind exploding outward as she slowed her momentum. With a heavy crash, she landed ahead of the elves, claws carving trenches in the stone and sand. Her roar split the desert air, shaking the earth beneath their horses’ hooves.
Stephan slid off her back, boots striking the ground with a crunch. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the lingering ache of battle, then straightened to his full height. The desert wind whipped around him, carrying the faint tang of ash and shadow.
It was then, only then, that Stephan saw elves for the first time in his life.
Two figures sat tall and proud upon their steeds, their bearing regal, their eyes sharp with a cold confidence. Their armor gleamed white as polished bone, traced with gold in elegant patterns that caught the dim light of dawn. White hair spilled from beneath their helms, cascading down like silken banners.
The male’s face was sharp, angular, his gaze like a blade honed over centuries. He held his reins with casual grace, as though neither dragon nor human truly worried him.
Beside him sat a woman, and for a brief moment Stephan’s breath caught. She was stunning, her pale features carved as though by the hand of a sculptor, her lips set in calm defiance. Even in armor she seemed ethereal, otherworldly beauty wrapped in danger. Her eyes, cold and clear as a frozen lake, regarded him without fear.
But it wasn’t their beauty or their poise that struck Stephan hardest. It was what he saw behind the male rider.
The little gnome was bound tight, his small frame tied across the saddle like captured prey. His eyes were wide, filled with fear and fury all at once.
Stephan’s chest tightened, rage rising sharp and hot.
The elves said nothing at first. Their horses pawed the ground, restless beneath the weight of the dragon’s presence, but the riders remained steady, unflinching. The male tilted his head slightly, as if studying Stephan with the same detached curiosity one might give an insect crawling too close to the edge of a flame.
The silence stretched, heavy as stone.
Stephan narrowed his eyes, stepping forward, the black aura of his soul energy flickering faintly around him. Death shifted behind, her enormous frame looming, violet eyes burning like coals in the half-light.
At last, Stephan spoke, his voice low but edged with steel.
The female elf’s gaze flickered, just for a heartbeat, but her composure didn’t falter. The male only smiled faintly, cold and sharp.
Elunor’s eyes widened, his voice laced with disbelief.
"Vaenya... is that a human? And...by the gods, is that a dragon?"
Vaenya leaned forward in her saddle, her pale hair spilling from beneath her gilded helm. Wonder gleamed in her silver eyes as her lips curved into a smile.
"Impossible," she whispered, though her tone carried delight. "A dragon and a man? I thought such tales were only for children’s dreams... and yet here they stand."
Stephan slid from the dragon’s back, landing lightly on the sand. He gave them a mocking bow, the corners of his mouth twisted in a crooked grin.
"How flattering. The great and ancient elves, marveling like wide-eyed villagers. So it’s true....you are real."
He straightened, gaze sweeping over them with deliberate disdain."And yet... you don’t look all that remarkable. Just humans with white hair and sharper ears."
Elunor’s smile was cold, predatory.
"Sharp tongue, for one so fragile."
"Indeed," Vaenya murmured, though her eyes never left Stephan, studying him as if he were some rare, dangerous beast.
Stephan’s grin vanished. His voice hardened, each word deliberate.
"I don’t care who you are. You have something of mine. I want it back."
Vaenya’s laugh rang out, bright and sharp as breaking glass. "We owe you nothing, human. Nothing at all."
Stephan’s eyes flicked past Elunor to Olath, bound, gagged, and slumped miserably across the saddle.,
Elunor followed his gaze and bared his teeth in a smile. "Ah. You mean the gnome."
Elunor’s grin widened, his white hair catching the faint light of dawn as the desert wind tugged at it. He tugged slightly on his reins, and Olath stirred miserably against the saddle.
"Yes," Elunor said slowly, savoring each word. "The little creature is ours now. Found wandering where it shouldn’t. Weak... frail... and rather loud."
Olath growled, muffled behind the gag, thrashing weakly. His small eyes burned with fury as they locked on Stephan.
Stephan’s jaw clenched. He took a step closer, hand tightening on his sword hilt, his black aura rippling like smoke around his body. "He’s mine. Let him go."
Vaenya tilted her head, studying Stephan with eyes that gleamed like polished ice. The corners of her lips curled, not in mockery, but in something unsettlingly close to admiration.
"You command a dragon," she said softly, her voice carrying in the heavy stillness. "And your soul... it reeks of power and of corruption. Tell me, human, how many souls have you devoured to walk so far into this cursed desert?"
Stephan didn’t answer. His silence was its own reply.
Elunor chuckled, the sound smooth, grating. "He doesn’t deny it. Typical. Humans clawing at strength they were never meant to hold. You’re dangerous, human, but also... amusing."
"I’m not here to amuse you," Stephan said, his voice low and steady. "I’m here for him. You give him back, and maybe I’ll let you both walk away."
The threat hung in the air, sharp and undeniable.
The elves exchanged a glance. Elunor laughed outright, a crisp, ringing sound that echoed across the desert. Vaenya smiled faintly, though her gaze never left Stephan’s, and in her eyes burned a dangerous curiosity.
"Walk away?" Elunor repeated, amusement dripping from every syllable. "From a human child playing with stolen fire?"
"You mistake yourself for our equal," Vaenya said smoothly. "But you are not. You stand before the blood of the Firstborn. We walked these lands when your kind still huddled in caves."
Stephan’s lips curved into a grin, sharp and humorless. "And yet here you are... stealing gnomes."
Vaenya’s smile faltered for a heartbeat. Elunor’s eyes narrowed. The desert air thickened, the tension palpable, the horses shifting uneasily under their riders.
Death growled behind Stephan, her massive form lowering her head, violet smoke curling from her nostrils. The ground trembled beneath her weight.
Stephan drew his sword in a single, deliberate motion, the steel whispering in the dawn. Shadows coiled along its edge, hungry and alive. "Last chance," he said coldly. "Hand him over."
Elunor’s smile returned, sharper than before. "Come and take him, human."
He tugged lightly on his reins, his horse stamping in the sand as he straightened with pride.
"This little gnome," he said smoothly, "is now the prisoner of the elves, destined for the throne of the great King of Ezron. He belongs to us. Surely even you, human, know that the gnomes and our kind are at war."
Stephan’s jaw tightened. His words came out low and cutting."War? You mean the genocide your people are waging. You’re not fighting them, you’re erasing them."
Vaenya let out a soft, melodic laugh, her amusement sharp enough to cut. She tilted her head, silver hair spilling like moonlight from her helm.
"Genocide, you call it? Such a heavy word. Tell me, human, did you forget your own history? A few thousand years ago, it was your kind that drenched the earth in blood. You slaughtered one another until nothing but ashes remained."
Her smile widened, cruel and beautiful.
"The only difference is... we don’t kill our own kind. We cleanse the weak, as nature demands."
Her eyes lifted past Stephan, fixing on the towering figure of the dragon. Her tone shifted, curiosity and reverence mingling with scorn.
"And if I’m not mistaken... wasn’t it a white dragon witch who heralded humanity’s fall?" The source of this content ɪs novelFirｅ.net
The desert wind hissed between them, carrying the sting of her words.
"History’s history," Stephan said, voice flat as the desert. "That doesn’t change what I’m here for. You refuse to hand my friend back, so I’ll call you my enemy. I’ll take him by force."
Vaenya’s smile widened, amused and cold. "Our chronicles say humans were clever but fragile. Every elven child dreams of facing one in combat."
Stephan’s grin cut back, hungry. "You’ll get your fight. Just not with me."
The dragon shifted. The sand trembled under her talons like a drumroll. Wings flexed, shadow folding and snapping as if the air itself were being torn.
"You’ll be fighting Death," Stephan said, low and sure.
For a breath the two elves’ amusement flickered. Elunor’s jaw tightened; Vaenya’s eyes flashed, not with fear, but with bright, predatory interest. Around them the morning light sharpened, gilding the icelike plates of their armor. Horses snorted, uneasy.
Death lowered her massive head until her violet eyes fixed on the elves. The light in them was not curiosity now but business, a predator’s calm before the strike. Steam of shadow puffed from her nostrils. The desert seemed to lean toward her like an audience holding its breath.