I slipped out of the Party Plaza as the palace medics rushed in, eager to get away from the 6th Emperor. The day was long, but the night would be longer. This night would decide my fate. Whether I would die or become a slave to the 6th emperor, only my opponent could decide. 

I turned the corner, desperate to exit the Party Plaza, and entered the Great Hall, the 6th’s actions still fresh in my brain.

Don’t react, I thought over and over again, Don’t react again. Hide your emotions. You’re nothing but a weapon. Try as I might, I couldn’t make myself believe it. I was still a nephilim; I had feelings too.

I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were contracting, but my breaths were shallow, exiting my body in short pants. 

I needed blood. I needed someone to care about me. I needed to run away from this mess. 

Try as I might, I couldn’t hold back the tears. They stained my eyes, blurring my vision as I collapsed onto the floor, my head in my hands. It had been hundreds of years since the last time I cried, but something about tonight made me want to escape more than I had ever wanted before. It was my future in the hands of men who saw me as nothing more than a tool for their schemes.

I really should have never been born. No one ever wanted me anyways.

I pressed my hands into the marble floor and stood up, my knees shaking. My vision blurred as I looked up at my surroundings, the dark walls mirroring my state of mind. The Throne of Knives at the center of the hall was just an object now, no longer occupied by its dangerous owner. 

I turned my head around and made eye contact with the dragon from before, their eyes staring into my soul, confused and desperate. In a way, the 6th’s dragon and I are similar, both trapped to serve their masters for all eternity. However, I would never be free because of the curse, while this dragon only needed its enchantment gem removed for it to run away. For me to escape, my father had to die.

I stumbled towards the dragon, dizzy and delirious from a lack of blood, my vision getting foggier with every step I took. The dragon growled, anxious and scared. I couldn’t blame them. I would growl too if my master was the 6th emperor. He wasn’t known for niceties.

Finally, I reached the dragon. They were beautiful, their scales shining silver in the light of the crescent moon. But that’s all they were to the 6th emperor, a beautiful toy, nothing more. The dragon was nothing more than a joke in this cruel world, a symbol of an ancient race torn to shreds. 

I had to free them, even if it was just for tonight. It was hard to stay alone when I was unsure if there would ever be a tomorrow. But my thoughts always had to interrupt me.

This is what happened with Analina, and look how that turned out, they implored. You can’t save them all. You are nothing, nothing but a weapon. You ruin everything you touch.

But I want to be good! I said inside my mind. I don’t want to be a story told to children to keep them inside at night. I want to be a hero, a queen, a diamond in a maze of stones. I want to live while I still have time. I don’t know if I’ll see tomorrow, but I know I can live for today.

Before I could overthink this, I grabbed the enchantment gem on the dragon’s harness and attempted to pry it off, my mind still deprived of blood. But the gem wasn’t coming off. I would need something more than my bare hands to remove it. 

I looked around the room and my eyes settled on the Throne of Knives. Perfect. Nobody would notice if one knife was missing out of the thousands that decorated it. I stumbled over to the throne and plucked a one off of the bottom left corner. It was a small knife, barely bigger than my hand, but it would do.

My thoughts wouldn’t stop firing off like bullets inside my brain. 

You can’t do this Zuri, they begged me, What are you even doing? Father will punish you. He’ll finally get to carve Lust into your heart. Do you want this? This isn’t you. Be a good girl, Zuri. Remember who you are. You don’t feel. You are nothing, nothing without father.

It was too late. I was already across the room, prying off the gem on the dragon’s saddle. Within seconds, the gem popped off, hitting the ground with a sharp clatter. 

The dragon looked up at me, their eyes filled with hope. Suddenly, their bones started popping, their scales shedding before my eyes, falling to the ground. In place of scales on their head, white hair sprouted out and fell mid-waist. The horns and haunting eyes remained, shrinking in size to fit the humanoid figure quickly forming in front of me. 

The dragon quickly grabbed the saddle and pulled it over to cover themself, embarrassed.

“Thank… you,” They stuttered out, likely having not spoken in years. I knew the feeling.

And with that, my knees gave out and I tumbled towards the floor, the knife falling from my hands and clattering on the marble, echoing through the Great Hall. Only, the dragon caught me, holding my limp body in their arms like a ragdoll. 

“I need blood,” I whispered. “I’m... losing consciousness.”

The dragon grabbed the knife from the floor with one hand and helped me up with the other, a concerned look staining their face. Suddenly, the dragon sliced open his arm and blood gushed out of the wound.

“Drink,” they said, finally getting used to the sound of their voice, “Consider it a thank you for letting me out of my misery, even if it’s just for one night.”

We were a sight to behold, the fallen angel and the forsaken dragon, bonded by nothing more than a knife and a gem. The irony was not lost on me, two powerful beings in chains, begging to escape. 

I bent my head over the dragon’s arm and licked the blood flowing from the open wound, my vision getting clearer with every drop of blood I swallowed. The rich dragon blood tasted like metal and power, a forbidden fruit for bloodsuckers like me. I had never tasted anything like it before. As the blood coursed through me, I stood taller and taller, my thoughts settling in the ruins of their panic. Once the cut had scabbed over, I looked up at my savior, my dragon.

The dragon was staring at me intently, trying to decipher why I would help them. They opened their mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, trying to find the right words. 

“The nephilim call me Atlas,” they said awkwardly, “You… may call me that too.”

Atlas, bearer of burdens. Once the king of the world, but now no more than a slave.

“You may call me Nyx,” I said, “Thank you for the blood.”

“It was no problem,” they sighed. “Just to hear my voice again was a gift that can never be repaid.”

In the distance, voices echoed down the hallway, drawing ever closer. They slurred together in a mess of undecipherable words, unidentifiable but dangerous. 

“Atlas, we need to get the saddle back on you. You have to shift back into dragon form unless they will kill us.”

“Please,” they begged. “I can’t go back. I can’t-”

“I’ll get you out of this, but I need more time. Just trust me. For now, this is the best solution.”

The voices were drawing closer, and we were running out of time. I grabbed the enchanted gem from the saddle off of the ground and held it in my palm. Magic pulsed through my hand and into the cloudy pink gem, and I pushed more into it in order to force Atlas’s shift. This wasn’t the easiest decision for me to make, but I had no time to let the dragon shift by themself. 

Atlas’s bones began to pop again, their silver hair disappearing. Scales grew out of their skin, shining in the moonlight. Their horns grew larger by the second, and the saddle slipped on to fit the dragon. The dragon whimpered in pain as their eyes grew to fit their new form, wings sprouting from their back. Tears stained Atlas’s eyes as they once again transformed into the trapped creature they longed to destroy. They dripped down the dragon’s silver scales, leaving nothing but a salt-stained shimmer behind as they dropped to the floor. 

I placed the gem inside the hole of the saddle and crept out of the room just as my father and the 6th Emperor entered, missing them by sheer seconds. 

I guess I’m not only fighting the Duke of the North’s army but the 6th Emperor’s galeiditara himself. My odds were not good, especially after forcing a dragon shift. My mana was sapped and my eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, but nevertheless, I marched onwards. I never fought other galeiditaras unless my father asked me to. I would be punished.

But I would do it for this dragon. 

Atlas gave me their blood. Atlas cared about me. Atlas would run away from this mess. 

I would make sure of it.