Page 87 of Beneath Scales and Shadows
Against their better judgment, the dragons obeyed, bearing Coal toward the tunnel entrance. Markth lingered, conflict evident in his expression.
“Take this,” he said finally, pressing a small crystal into her palm. “It’s a royal seal—it might get you past the laboratory guards.”
Sora nodded her thanks before turning toward the curving staircase that would lead her deeper into enemy territory. The castle corridors blurred around her as she relied on Markth’s hasty directions, pressing herself into shadows whenever guards rushed past.
The north tower loomed above, its white stone darkened by smoke from the aerial battle outside. Through the windows she passed, Sora caught glimpses of dragons in their true forms, wings cutting through clouds as they engaged Celestorian forces on the battlements.
Heat flared beneath her skin, sharp and sudden—Ignis’s fury crashing into her like a wave. He knew she’d deviated from the plan. His fury mixed with fear, pushing against her consciousness like a physical force.
I’ll be careful,she promised silently, knowing he could sense her intent if not her exact words.
The laboratory door stood at the tower’s highest level, guarded by two men in the distinctive black armor of the royal alchemists’ personal guard. Neither had the vacant eyes of essence-harvested victims—these were true believers, men who had chosen to serve the darkness consuming their kingdom.
Sora straightened her posture, adopting the confident stride she’d seen Princess Jewels use. Without hesitation, she approached them, holding out Markth’s crystal.
“The prince requires samples immediately,” she announced, infusing her voice with imperious command. “The dragon attack has accelerated our timeline.”
The guards exchanged uncertain glances before the taller one reached for the crystal. As his fingers touched it, blue light flared, temporarily blinding them both. Sora didn’t hesitate—she drove her knee into the first guard’s groin, then slammed the second’s head against the stone wall with strength born of desperation and awakening dragon blood.
Both collapsed, leaving the laboratory door undefended. Sora pushed it open, her senses immediately assaulted by the sickly-sweet smell of corrupted essence.
The circular chamber ahead contained horrors beyond imagination. Glass tanks lined the walls, each containing a suspended figure—human, dragon, elf, fae—their eyes open but unseeing, their bodies connected to tubes that drained their very life force into collection vessels.
At the chamber’s center stood a complex distillation apparatus, bubbling with liquid in various shades of opalescence. Notebooks and scrolls covered workbenches, detailed illustrations showing essence application to weapons, potions, even food.
Sora’s stomach lurched. They weren’t just creating weapons—they were developing methods to convert the entire population, making everyone unwitting consumers of harvested essence.
She had to destroy it all.
The silver scales along her arms shimmered as she seized a nearby lantern, smashing it against the workbench. Oil spilled across papers and wood, flames licking upward with hungry intensity. She moved methodically, breaking every vessel, upending every beaker of corrupted essence, allowing the flames to purify what physical force could not.
A swell of his approval brushed against her, warm and fleeting—chased quickly by the sharp edge of urgency. The attack outside intensified, dragons creating a diversion that might allow her escape—but not for long.
The glass tanks required more direct action. Sora seized a wrought-iron stand, using it to smash the first tank. Fluid gushed across the floor, carrying the unconscious victim with it. She moved to the second, then the third, freeing each prisoner while flames spread across the laboratory.
One of the captives stirred—a young man with elf-like features, his skin bearing the faintest shimmer of scales. An omega, like her. His eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to understanding as he took in the blazing laboratory.
“Can you walk?” she asked, helping him sit up.
He nodded weakly. “Others... below.”
“How many?”
“Dozens,” he whispered. “In the breeding chambers.”
Fresh horror washed through her. Breeding chambers? What new atrocity was this?
No time to investigate—the flames had grown too intense. Black smoke billowed upward, obscuring the laboratory’s high ceiling. They had to leave now.
“Lean on me,” she instructed, supporting the rescued omega as they staggered toward the door. The other freed captives remained unresponsive, but she couldn’t leave them. “Can you help me with the others?”
Together, they managed to drag three unconscious prisoners into the corridor before the laboratory’s central apparatus exploded, showering the room with shards of glass and burning essence.
The tower’s spiral staircase seemed endless as they descended, smoke pursuing them like a living thing. Sora’s lungs burned, her vision blurring, but she forced herself onward, one step at a time.
A rush of desperate concern gripped her—Ignis, pressing against her thoughts with a silent, urgent plea: hurry, get out, survive.
The laboratory’s destruction would’ve been noticed. Guards would be converging. But ahead, windows revealed open sky—and dragons circling closer, claws extended to pluck allies from the burning castle.
