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If I was to face the end, it would be on my feet.
My legs wobbled, threatening to give way beneath me.
The sensation of standing felt foreign as if I had been down for ages.
My sense of balance was shaky, and the world tilted precariously.
But amidst the dizziness, I clung to one single thought:
I will not be brought low. Not by Sneik, not by his psychic, not by anyone.
I straightened, locking eyes with Sneik. My gaze was unwavering, even if my body was not.
He seemed taken aback by my resilience, by my sheer refusal to be defeated.
The mocking smile that had been playing on his lips faltered for just a fraction of a second, but I caught it.
And in that moment, I felt something other than defeat: a hint of hope.
As the world blurred and my consciousness threatened to slip away, I knew one thing for certain.
If this was to be my end, then I would meet it head-on, standing tall.
* * *
The blows came fast and furious.
Each strike was a lesson in pain, a study in endurance.
The force of Sneik’s assault pushed me further and further into the pit’s gritty floor.
The metallic tang of my own blood coated my tongue as it mixed with the chalky texture of the arena sand, and my world wobbled with dizziness.
With every thud and crash, my vision blurred more and more, the colors merging and morphing until the entire pit was a whirl of chaotic hues.
The stench of sweat, blood, and fear clung to my nostrils.
I was on the brink of losing consciousness, and it wasn’t just from the physical battering.
The despair, the weight of our impending doom, threatened to crush me.
It was in that fog of pain and misery that I found myself sprawled next to Nova.
Our eyes met, her bright orbs shimmering with a mix of determination and sadness. “I’m so sorry,” I croaked, the words feeling like sandpaper in my throat. “I’ve failed you.”
She reached out, her fingers brushing my cheek, cool and comforting amidst the furnace of the pit. “You haven’t failed,” she whispered, her voice clear, like a beacon cutting through the darkest of nights. “It’s not over yet.”
Despite my state, I had to laugh, albeit weakly. “Look at us,” I rasped. “What can we do?”
Her eyes, usually so gentle, now held a fierce determination. “We summon the dragon.”
I blinked, convinced my mind was playing tricks on me. “The dragon? We’ve tried, Nova. Countless times! We’ve never managed it.”
She grabbed my face, forcing me to focus on her. “Look!” she insisted, pulling down the collar of her top slightly to reveal her tattoo.
The intricate dragon design was there, sinuous and elegant, its body curving with the subtle contours of her skin. “Do you see it? Really see it?”
The pain receded a bit as I squinted, trying to understand her urgency. “It’s just like mine,” I murmured.
