Page 86 of Season of Naga: Volume 2
Varok's flames roar higher, the heat so intense it scorches my scales despite the wind I command between us. "We need to use our elements to strike them down!”
Varok's scales pulse brighter as he growls, "We do not have the strength to do both at once. If Leira were here..." His voice catches, the orange glow beneath his scales intensifying at the mere mention of her name. "With her, my fire burns twice as strong. But now we must focus only on the shield to keep our warriors safe from the sunblight so they can fight."
I strain harder, extending my element outward. The wind responds to my will. The barrier thickens. Currents spiral faster, forming a visible distortion across our front line. The effort makes my vision blur at the edges. Black spots dance before my eyes.
"Venom take it!” I curse, spotting massive launchers being wheeled forward behind the human infantry. “They have brought something new."
The canons are four times the size of standard arc launchers. Their barrels are wide enough to swallow a naga hatchling whole. The first shot is followed by a thunderous boom that shakes the ground beneath my coils. Not glass this time, but a metallic cask that bursts mid-air. Hundreds of smaller projectiles scatter in all directions.
"Brace!" I shout, instinctively thickening the air barrier above us.
The fragments slam into our shield with such force that I stagger backward. My concentration fractures. Wind and fire waver, creating momentary gaps in our defense. All around, naga warriors cry out as sunblight seeps through. It finds exposed scales and burns flesh to bone in seconds.
"We cannot hold this forever," I gasp, sweat pouring down my face as I force the air back into formation. "Our warriors need to retreat while we can still cover them."
Varok's eyes blaze with inner fire. "No retreat. Not with the obsidian gate so vulnerable."
A terrible thought forms in my mind as I watch another naga warrior fall, his scales blackened and melting from sunblight exposure. We are losing. Despite our elemental powers, despite the explosives Traven rains down upon human forces, we cannot stem this tide. Not like this. Not divided.
My mind flashes to Serin, of her face when she overheard me in the war chamber, the hurt in her eyes when I rejected what grows between us. I had been so certain that denying our connection would protect my people from whatever catastrophe the prophecy foretells.
As I struggle against the humans’ barrage, the Elder’s words ring true,You believe you protect your people by denying Serin.In truth, you risk becoming the very instrument of destruction you fear.
"Varok," I say, my voice strained as another volley crashes against our shield. "The prophecy speaks of four elements awakening. Of powers united.Only love shall fully ignite their might.What if?—"
"Not now, Lurok!" he snarls, flames surging higher as he compensates for my momentary distraction.
"Listen to me!" I insist, my tail lashing against the ash-covered ground. “You said your fire awakened through your bond with Leira—that it is stronger with her. What if that is what the prophecy truly means, not destruction… but salvation through our union?”
A human soldier breaks through our lines, charging with a blade coated in a sickly yellow substance. I react without thinking, diverting my power to send a concentrated blast of wind that lifts him off his feet and hurls him back into his own ranks. The shield thins instantly where my attention falters. The wind stutters, slipping from my control. Unsteady and incomplete. Varok hisses in pain as his flames stretch to cover my weakness, but not before several sunblight orbs slip through the gap, shattering against the ground behind us with a horrifying sizzle.
The Crimson Bond Ceremony performed when you breathed life into her lungs and your blood mingled with hers,Eira said.You are already blood bound to Serin. She is your bloodmate.
"I have been a fool," I continue, the realization burning through me with greater heat than Varok's flames. "Fighting against what cannot be changed. Denying what might save us all."
Varok's eyes narrow, knowingly. "You speak of Serin."
"Yes." The admission feels like chains falling away. “If the bond with her strengthens my element as yours does with Leira…”
A massive explosion rocks the battlefield, cutting off my words. One of Traven's teams has landed a direct hit on the human supply line. Bodies and equipment fly through the air, momentarily disrupting their advance. But I can already see them regrouping, their numbers seemingly endless against our dwindling force.
“We cannot hold this position much longer," Varok says, his voice tight with exertion as he maintains the fiery half of our shield.
My scales burn with frustration and something deeper. A regret that cuts sharper than any human blade. I have wasted precious time fighting against fate instead of embracing it. And now, when I finally see the truth, it may be too late.
“We need to fall back,” I say, making the decision Varok cannot. “Regroup and bring Serin and Leira to the front. Without them, we are fighting crippled. We need them… or all is lost.”
Varok hesitates, then nods sharply. "Signal the retreat. We will cover their withdrawal."
I raise my free hand, summoning a controlled funnel of air that rises high above the battlefield, a prearranged signal. Behind us, Traven acknowledges with a sharp whistle, and our warriors begin their coordinated withdrawal, carrying the wounded with them.
As our forces pull back, Varok and I intensify our elemental barrier, creating a wall of wind-whipped flame that momentarily blinds the human forces. Through the shimmer of heat, I watch our warriors retreat, counting casualties with each passing heartbeat. Too many. Far too many.
As we back toward the obsidian gate, maintaining our elemental shield with every ounce of strength we possess, I feel something shift inside me, not just resolve, but certainty. If we survive this day, I will tell Serin the truth that burns hotter than Varok's flames. I was wrong to deny what grows between us; my fear blinded me to the prophecy's true meaning. And I pray to the Ancients she forgives me for the fool I have been.
My wind barrier flickers like a dying candle, muscles trembling with each new volley. Beside me, Varok's once-brilliant scales now pulse weakly, the orange glow fading to dull amber as his fire element gutters. We stagger backward in desperate unison, our tails leaving serpentine trails through ash, struggling to maintain the thin membrane of elements that separates life from death. The shield wavers dangerously when another cask explodes overhead.
Behind us, wounded warriors moan as brothers drag them toward safety, blood-slick scales leaving crimson streaks across the scorched earth. Before us, our remaining fighters clash with the advancing human line, their movements slowing as exhaustion and sunblight take their toll. With each labored breath, the obsidian gate seems to recede farther into the distance.
