Rhenvar blinked through blood and dust, face down on the cracked stone floor. Every bone screamed. His limbs felt like iron.
"Gah!" Rhenvar gasped. "Air. I need air."
He tried to rise.
"Viir…?" He rasped.
No response.
Pain spiked through his ribs. Souleater clanged beside him, too heavy, too silent. Even the usual whispers of thousands of souls did not come.
"I'll give you honor, eater of souls," came the voice. Smooth, deep, ancient. "You are the first to fight so hard."
The shadows shifted from the dragon's bright gold scales.
Urithax slithered closer; gold scales glinting in the dim moonlight. His serpent head loomed, vast, and cold.
"You are weak and pathetic. Your bonded Goddess told me everything."
Rhenvar spat blood. "Ah, fuck off man."
He pushed to his knees. Souleater dragged across the stone like a coffin lid. His fire-scorched armor burned against his skin. His lungs heaved, begging him to stop.
I've never been this tired. What the fuck.
"I see your true soul, creature," Urithax said. "I see the stain it bears. The longing for death. The scar you carved into it with your own blade. Tell me."
The dragon glared. "Does your left wrist still ache, when you think about how you took your own life?"
Rhenvar froze.
Urithax leaned in, smoke curling from his jaws.
"You think this second chance makes you righteous? You believe you are a human again? A protector? You are nothing. You are a corpse with a rotten sword. A corpse who had done nothing but taken souls with his second life."
Rhenvar coughed as he staggered on his feet.
Everything screamed. His legs, his ribs, and his memories. Souleater's weight dragged his own body down.
"I'm at my limit," he muttered.
So quit, something whispered. Let go. That's why you agreed to her deal and waited in the shadow fort. You waited for it. Wanted it.
But he didn't.
He couldn't.
He wanted to live.
He lifted the blade again, even as blood poured from his side. Even as his shadow refused to answer. Even as every piece of him said, stay down, be at peace. Let go.
"What does it take?" Urithax growled. "What does it take to make you accept your fate?"
Rhenvar lifted his head. Blue eyes blazing through blood.
"Bring everyone I stole back, that's what it will take."
He gritted his teeth.
"I'm not righteous. I'm not a hero. I'm not even forgiven. I'm just-"
He stepped forward.
"I'm just a soul eating weapon." Another step.
"A tool in someone else's war."
And then.
"But somewhere inside-" Rhenvar stepped forward. Souleater rose. The crimson sword screamed. "I'm still me."
"My soul may be buried under thousands but-" He charged.
Urithax reeled, surprised.
"ONE DAY I'LL USE MY TRUE NAME!"
He slashed.
"MY NAME IS REHPOTSIRHC!"
Again, and again and again. Each swing of the cursed sword got slower and slower until-
A loud crack echoed the cave.
Urithax knocked Rhenvar into the cave's wall. He lay there bloodied and broken. Unable to move. His vision was blackened. He could barely make out any noise.
I'm- dying-
"It's over, eater of souls." The dragon leaned forward.
"Just wait- I- blah," He vomited up blood. "Let- me see Viir- please."
"The fairy?" The dragon looked over to the dim red light on the ground.
"I die- she dies-" Rhenvar quickly said before coughing.
"And what does a corpse need with another?" Urithax tilted his head. His white eyes focused.
"Let me- give her my- ," he vomited up more blood. "S- soul."
Urithax flinched back at those words.
"You eater of souls, would give your own so a companion will live?"
"Yes…"
Silence.
Urithax did not speak.
The ancient dragon's head loomed above the broken knight, steam rising from his nostrils, eyes burning. His great body tensed, every scale glinting like fresh forged gold.
"…You-" The dragon's voice was no longer mocking. It was curious. Almost… reverent. "You would offer your own soul, why?"
Rhenvar was barely conscious, blood dripping from his lips, eyes unfocused. But he nodded.
"I want her- to live…" he whispered. "Even if- I don't. She- held me- together."
A pause.
A long, weighty pause.
Then the ground trembled, not with rage, but with something older and deeper.
Laughter.
Not cruel. Not kind.
"…I see," Urithax rumbled. "So, the cursed knight bears a heart still capable of giving. Even now. Even ruined. Even on the verge of death!"
He circled slowly around Rhenvar's body, massive talons scraping stone.
"You are a contradiction. A weapon that bleeds. A shadow that protects. A soul, shattered, yet unyielding."
His serpent eyes narrowed.
"Many have sought me out for my power. I have tested champions. Slain demigods. Consumed useless tyrants. But you… you confuse me."
He lowered his head. Close. Close enough to smell Rhenvar's soul. "I tasted your pain," Urithax whispered. "And now I taste something else. Hope."
A hiss escaped his fangs.
"For something like you!? Disgusting and ridiculous."
A pause.
"…But divine."
Rhenvar blinked up, barely conscious.
The dragon exhaled smoke in his face.
"I should devour you. I should erase the stain of your name from history. But instead…"
He rose high above him.
"I have decided."
He bit his hand. Blood leaked out.
"Drink and bathe in my blood, eater of souls. You have passed your trial."