The wyrm’s muscles tensed, its razor-sharp claws scraping the ground as it readied to pounce. As Lorayla whirled her purple crystal chain over her head like a whip, the winged, scaly beast saw its opportunity. With a howling roar, it lunged at the woman, deflecting her chain with one of its wings. The creature’s thick, muscular legs pounded the ground just inches away from Lorayla, nearly crushing her. The force of the wyrm’s lunge sent the woman violently to the ground, interrupting her concentration. Her magical chain slammed into the ground and scattered into particles of purple ash and smoke.

Lorayla rolled over to face her attacker, gasping in terror at the brooding, ferocious creature now standing over her. She was paralyzed with fear. Memories of her attackers flooded her mind, and she closed her eyes.

Be still, the wyrm commanded in Lorayla’s mind, lowering its head to her level. The two-legged creature huffed through its nose, amused by the woman’s attempts to shrink away from him. He moved closer to her, sniffing her body as Lorayla breathed rapidly.

Your scent is not overly sweet; therefore your womb is childless and ready to bear, the wyrm thought jubilantly to Lorayla.

The woman hesitantly peeked open her eyes to see a purple glow envelope the creature’s eyes as a smoky stream of purple magic spiraled from its mouth and took the form of a large knife near her head. “You’re going to kill me then? I thought you needed me,” she managed desperately.  

Gather yourself, woman. I could have killed you long ago. But look! Here is a knife. Take it up.

Lorayla’s body loosened as she gazed upon the knife. She sat up and grasped the small weapon.

The wyrm turned its head, exposing its scaly neck. Get up! Plunge that knife between my scales, and pluck one of them out. Whatever you do, do not let the scale touch the ground, for it would then be tainted and worthless.

“What if I kill you instead?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

Don’t get too excited. That knife couldn’t penetrate deep enough to kill me. Besides, if I die, so do your aspirations and dreams. Now…do it!

Lorayla stood to her feet unsteadily as she tried to shake off the fear the wyrm had instilled. She glanced at the knife in her hand, which appeared to be made entirely of bone. On the hilt was an engraved image of a wyrm breathing fire. “How is this primitive weapon going to be of any use against your thick scales?” Lorayla asked skeptically.

It’s an ancient weapon made from the body of Fyros, a legendary lava wyrm whose bloodline I share. Now, no more questions, woman! We are wasting valuable time!

Lorayla nodded and lifted the knife toward the darkwyrm’s neck. She knew nothing about the history of wyrms, only that they and dragons had been bitter enemies for as long as anyone could remember. As she drew the knife closer to the wyrm’s neck, it became increasingly apparent to Lorayla that her future—her entire life—would now be deeply intertwined with the wyrms and their mysteries. She took a deep breath and slipped her crystal into her pocket, placing both hands on the knife to carefully position it between the thick, dark scales on Thoron’s neck. The knife grew warm as small tongues of fire began to dance on its blade. An ill feeling tugged at Lorayla’s conscience. What am I doing? If Pappi were here, would he approve of what I’m about to do?

Do it, woman! Do it! Thoron commanded, snorting with impatience as if sensing her reluctance. This is the only way to regain what you’ve lost. It’s time for you to forge your destiny from the ashes it has become!

Lorayla tightened her grip on the knife, Thoron’s words strengthening her resolve. “This is for me! To take back what’s been stolen!” she cried, plunging the bone knife between the wyrm’s scales. The knife’s short flames became more intense, spiraling around the blade and spewing particles of flame as Lorayla dug into one of Thoron’s scales and plucked it out with all the force she could muster. Thoron groaned deeply, his body going rigid as he tried to maintain his composure.

A hand-sized, tear-drop shaped scale, now tainted with blood, tumbled in the air. Lorayla quickly dropped to one knee and snatched the piece of Thoron’s body before it could touch the ground. She fiercely gipped the scale, which barely fit in the palm of her hand.

Thoron stepped back from her, straightening his neck and shaking it to relieve the pain. A cloudy mist surrounded his body, and he began his transformation to his human form. The knife in Lorayla’s hand turned to smoke and slithered through the air to join the mist surrounding Thoron. When it cleared, the wyrm was once again a man.

Lorayla stepped toward Thoron, holding up the scale between them. As Thoron hobbled closer to her, limping and holding his side, Lorayla furrowed her brow. There’s something different about him. His cloak was no longer tattered, and she could see its true form. It was as dark as coal with hues of glowing red slowly appearing and disappearing with small, sporadic licks of flame.

“Your cloak…” Lorayla began, lowering her prized wyrm scale to her side.

Thoron clenched a fist. “I sense an enemy drawing near. We must hurry before we’re found!”

“What enemy?”

“No, no! There’s no time to explain.”

“Surely, you don’t mean Fai?” Lorayla shook her head.

Thoron turned and bit his lip when he saw the distant form of a Vaux piercing the darkness of the tunnel with a soft green light. He faced Lorayla. “Quickly! Place the scale over your belly. For success, we must use our combined powers in harmony, imagining the scale absorbing into your belly. With you believing, at the same time, you’re with child, life will be born within your womb.” Without hesitation, Thoron stretched his hand over the wyrm scale in Lorayla’s hand. A flow of purple mist gushed from his hand, enveloping the scale and refashioning it translucent.

Intrigued by the scale’s change, Lorayla eagerly snatched her crystal. The depths of her crystal ignited with power as she held the wyrm scale over her belly and imagined herself with child.

“Stop!” came a warning cry.