Page 35 of Elven Oath

Chapter 12

Aodhan

We were so close tohome, yet something gnawed at me, an instinct deep in my bones. My wound still ached, but it was nothing compared to the weight of unease pressing down on my shoulders.

Falkor was riding silently beside me with Vevina at my back. Both sensing the same shift in the atmosphere. The river marked the edge of my homeland, and once we crossed, we’d be on the way back to the mountains. Back to safety.

Drago, who had ridden ahead to scout the path, came galloping back, his face grim. “The bridge is blocked,” he says without preamble, pulling his horse up next to mine. “A group of men are waiting on the other side, armed to the teeth.”

I curse the Gods under my breath. Of course. It couldn’t just be easy. “How many?” I ask.

“Enough to give us trouble,” Drago replies.

My mind raced, weighing our options. We could try to find another crossing, but that would take too much time. We had to deal with this head-on.

“We go forward,” I decided. “Let’s find out who these bastards are.”

Falkor grins, his hand already on the hilt of his sword. “I like the sound of that.”

As we ride cautiously toward the bridge, my senses sharpen, scanning for any hint of danger. The landscape was still, unnaturally so. No birds sang, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

When we finally approached the bridge, I could see them clearly. A group of men stood on the far side, dressed in dark, mismatched armor, their weapons drawn.

But what caught my attention was the man standing at the center of them. He wasn’t an Elf, and he didn’t carry himself like one. He was tall, lean, and his eyes glinted with an unsettling kind of intelligence.

As we drew closer, the man stepped forward, a slow, confident smile spreading across his face. “Prince Aodhan,” he called, his voice smooth and sharp, cutting through the silence. “And the beautiful Vevina. I’ve been expecting you.”

I bristle at the way he says her name, but I keep my expression impassive. “Who are you?” I demand, keeping my voice steady. “What do you want?”

The man’s smile widens. “Who I am is not important. What matters is what I represent. I come bearing a message and a mission. You both need to die before you leave Elf lands.”

My grip tightens on the reins. “And why is that?”

He chuckles darkly. “Because a bond between an Elf and a dragon could create a child. A child that would save your dying race.”

My blood runs cold. He knew. Somehow, he knew about the ancient bond, the one that had been buried in legend. But how?

“And why would that concern you?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm.

“Because,” the man says, stepping closer to the edge of the bridge, “your survival threatens everything we’ve worked for. Dragons must go extinct, and magic must die with them.”

A flicker of movement behind him catches my eye, and I see the others. His men, shifting uncomfortably, as if waiting for a signal.

“And who exactly is ‘we’?” Falkor growls, his sword already halfway out of its scabbard.

The man’s smile never falters. “Wizards. We’ve made an alliance with a new race. Humans. They have a fresh perspective, and they understand what must be done. They’re ambitious, you see. They believe the world will be theirs, free from magic. Together, we will destroy all the magical races. The dragons, the Elves, and anyone else who stands in our way.”

Wizards. Of course. It made sense. They had always sought to control magic, to manipulate it for their own ends. And now they had found a new race. Humans, with their greed and hunger for power.

“Enough of this,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “If you think we’re going to let you stand in our way, you’re mistaken.”

The man’s smile fades, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. “Very well,” he says, raising his hand. “Kill them.”

The battle explodes into chaos. Drago, Falkor, and I shift into our dragon forms as soon as we jump from our horses. The transformation takes only seconds. The rush of power surged through my veins as I feel my wings stretch, my scales harden, and the fire ignite in my chest.

But the moment we take to the skies, the enemy launches their attack. Arrows whiz past us, some tipped with strange, dark magic that I could feel pulsing in the air. The wizards had come prepared.

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