The war camp was now crumbling. What little remained of the once-great Seventh Battalion was now bloodied, limping, and silent.
Tents were half-burned. Weapons scattered. Bodies belonging to both men and dragons shrouded in torn flags.
General Marek stood tall among the wreckage, his helmet tucked beneath one arm, jaw tight as he surveyed the ruin.
Behind him, Kaela watched the final cage being fastened with runesteel bolts, her fingers twitching at her side.
The beast was being moved.
Cassian, last Prince of the Drakebloods, was shackled inside an iron-bound cart, his wrists chained above his head, his ankles locked to the floor.
The glowing runes that lined the walls flickered with faint gold light, designed to sap dragonkind of their strength, or at least, slow them down.
But even with all of this, he looked… undisturbed. Unperturbed. Uncaring and unfeeling.
Kaela hated that.
Marek's voice cut through the hushed camp. "What's left of the men, form up. We move now."
His commanders glanced at one another, wary. "General, should we not survey for possible survivors and—?"
"Not another word from you. There's nothing left here for us commander," Marek snapped. "We've won. Yes, it was with a steep cost, but we got something in return. And we're taking him home."
Kaela glanced toward the horizon.
The cracked red mountains loomed behind them, but ahead, far beyond the flatlands and the bone-dry rivers, lay the jewel of their kingdom.
Virelia.
The Iron Capital.
Their home.
The place that would soon welcome its greatest trophy. And rejoice at it's death.
~
As the battered line of soldiers began to form into ranks, word about Cassian spread like wildfire:
They had caught a Drakeblood.
Some men muttered prayers. Others spat into the dust. And some just… stared.
"By the Saints," one whispered near Kaela. "I didn't believe it until I saw him."
"I thought they were all dead. I was told they're all dead," another said.
"They are. We wiped them out," came the quiet reply. "Except that one. I think this is a bad omen."
Kaela mounted her dark gray mare, her eyes fixed on the cage now being hauled between two armored wagons. The wheels creaked as the cart began to move, the metal groaning with the weight of its prisoner.
And still, Cassian sat like he was seated on a throne, his lips curved in a dangerous grin.
Some of the men shouted curses as he passed. One even threw a bloodied apple core, and it bounced harmlessly off the bars.
But Cassian didn't shudder or yield. He met every gaze with that same unreadable calm.
Kaela was ordered to ride near the front of the escort, her eyes constantly drawn back to the cart.
Cassian turned his head slowly, and locked eyes with her.
And smiled.
Not a mocking grin. Not even the same cruel smirk from the night before.
Just something... unsettlingly still. Like he saw more than she was showing.
Kaela's jaw clenched. She forced her eyes forward, heels digging into her mare.
~
They traveled for hours.
Dust kicked up from the boots of the soldiers. The wounded rode in silence, while the rest whispered about the prisoner, about the capital, about the reward that surely waited.
As dusk settled, the convoy paused at a rise overlooking the vast plains that led to Virelia.
Smoke from distant chimneys marked its location, civilization. They were home.
Kaela dismounted from her horse, wiping sweat from her brow. Her bones ached. Her skin itched beneath her armor.
She turned to the cart, and nearly grunted.
Cassian's gaze was still on her, unwavering. His head rested lazily against the bars now, his brown hair falling across one eye.
"I see your neck's still unbroken. Tragic. I was hoping you would have died on the way on done us a massive favour," Kaela said coldly.
His lips twitched. "You and me both. And yours is still tense. Are you afraid of me, captain?"
She moved closer, too close, until one of the guards stepped in.
"Don't worry," Cassian said smoothly. "I can't breathe fire through bars."
Kaela glared. "Say one more word—"
"And what? What would happen?" he cut in. "Will you kill me before the capital gets its parade?"
She froze.
Cassian tilted his head.
He got her.
"They want to see the monster, don't they?" he asked. "Paraded through the streets, humbled, bound. A reminder that even gods can bleed."
"You hold yourself in high esteem. You're not a god," she spat.
His voice dropped.
"I was, once. But I don't expect a mere mortal like you to understand."
Kaela didn't know what annoyed her more, the arrogance or the echo of grief buried beneath it.
"Keep talking," she muttered. "And maybe I'll loosen your tongue with my blade."
Cassian didn't flinch. "No. You'll wait."
Her fists clenched. "For what?"
He smiled.
"I believe it is time for me to be paraded. Take me in. Let me dance for them." Cassian smirked,
Kaela gritted her teeth, knowing he was deliberately toying with her emotions, but she would have his time later.