Nyal ran forward, panicked. He pushed through dancers, ignoring the angry remarks of the dancing men and women. The gleaming red eyes disappeared from sight, but still Nyal tried to find them, trying to remember the dragons face. Dark hair, beginnings of a beard, and of course the red eyes.

He ended up outside on one of the balconies, but there was only a couple out there, standing and watching over the city. They turned sharply when they heard him burst out, panting and looking around frantically.

He looked from left to right and back again, trying to find a path the dragon could have taken, but it was dead end out on the balcony. The only place he could be was inside, with the other dancers. Where he could hurt them, kill them, kill Elora.

He rushed back inside, breathing becoming shallow. He looked to Elora, who was still talking to Astor. No one else was there, except Albert the advisor and the queen's partner. No sign of the dragon. There was a chance he had already left, but Nyal had to make sure, just in case.

He rushed back through the dance floor, over to the large double doors leading out into the long hallways of the stronghold. He looked in every corner, at every single person as he passed, but there was no sign of the dragon. Where was he? Where had he gone?

Nyal was growing more and more panicked the longer it took to find him. It was a good sign though, it meant that the dragon hadn't found the Gate yet, and that he was in Fiume, so he could be found before anything else happened. The Key could be taken back and Veridun would be safe.

It didn't even occur to him that he might have gotten his hopes up. He wasn't looking where he was going, gaze directed over at a table full of chatting men dressed as fancy as they could get. He didn't even realise someone was in his way until they were both sprawled on the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Of course, he had to walk into someone, life always found a way of screwing him over at the wrong times. He pushed himself back until he was sitting on his knees on the hard floor. People had crowded around the stare at them.

"I'm very sorry," Nyal said, getting up and offering his hand to the man. He froze, staring at the man's face. Bright red eyes, pinker than anything else, but somehow still similar to the dragon's eyes. Pulling him up, Nyal caught sight of white shocking white hair and small pale wings. A fairy, not a dragon.

It had to be who he saw in the crowd, not the dragon. Thinking back now he realised how silly he was being, thinking the dragon would show up at a royal ball where he could be spotted at any minute. He shook his head, glancing up at the albino man he had walked into.

"It's fine," he said in a tone that told him it was not at all fine. "Just look where you're going."

Nyal only nodded, not really paying attention to the fairy's words. He felt stupid, thinking that the dragon would be in such a public place, but there was a part of him that felt like the enemy was still in his midst. He put it down to adrenaline and paranoia, but he had to make sure.

He walked away from the albino fairy and the crowd of people, doing one last sweep of the room. He looked in every corner he could see, under as many tables as he could without being caught (he didn't want to drag too much attention to himself), looked on every single balcony. He did not find the dragon. The only conclusion he could make was that he saw the fairy and got confused. It had been a long day after all.

He sighed and shook his head, finding himself in the middle of the ballroom. Elora was still talking to Astor, looking a lot more relaxed than she had when the night started, as far as he could tell. He made his way back to her, stopping with a sigh.

"Everything alright?" Astor asked him, stopping Elora in the middle of a sentence.

"Yes, everything's fine," Nyal replied, "Azel is an old friend from when I worked at the Guild. Apologies for the interruption."

"That's perfectly fine," Astor replied, but from the look on Elora's face, he could tell it definitely wasn't.

"Where were you?" Nyal asked her.

"How you come into it all," she replied curtly, only barely glancing at him. Astor gestured for her to continue. "As I said before, Nyal is a Healer. What we found out in the war against the Zlohiel is that dragons have a weakness to the water Healers use, which is why there aren't many of them, the rest of the Zlohiel killed most of them. I took Nyal with me to help me stop the dragon before he gets to the Gate."

"Does the dragon know where the Gate is?" Astor asked, looking more bewildered than anything else, something Nyal expected. It was a lot of information to take in at once.

"No," Elora answered. "But the Key does, and it will lead him to it. So we need to find him first."

"And how can I help you with that?" Astor questioned.

"I need men," Elora stated, "Not many, just some of your guards, whoever you think will be able to help us the best. Two people against one dragon are good odds, but not the best. I need the best odds I can get, and your men are some of the best in the realm. You can also keep an eye out for him in the city and surrounding towns."

Queen Astor sat silently, thinking. Nyal took the chance to look at the other two men sitting at the table. They both had identical bewildered expressions on their faces.

"I can do that," Queen Astor finally replied. "I can give you my two best soldiers. One is a warlock, the other is a werewolf. I hope that is satisfactory. I can't spare much, what with the war."

"That is perfect, your highness," Elora said, sounding relieved. Nigh breathed in deeply at the news. All of their waiting and Elora's anger had paid off. While it wasn't much, it would still help greatly.

"Good. I will also get my guards and soldiers to keep an out for this... dragon, " to Nyal's ears it sounded like the Queen didn't believe what she had been told, and yet, knew it had to be true. It reminded him of when he first found out. It seemed almost impossible, but it was the truth. "If you could just give a description. I remember Wyndel very well, but not his advisor."

"I can do that," Elora said. "We'll need the men by tomorrow morning though, that's when we're leaving."

"Oh, we are?" Nyal asked, his first real input into the conversation.

"Yes," Elora answered. "We haven't caught sight of the dragon at all on the way here, I'm growing worried that he is getting close to the Gate. I'd like to leave as soon as possible."

Nyal just nodded, keeping silent. He wanted to tell her that he thought the dragon was near, he could feel it, but with no proof, and the sighting of a mere albino fae instead, he couldn't really say anything. Instead, all he could do was agree with his companion and keep an eye out for the enemy.

He groaned, exhaustion suddenly washing over him like a wave. The days' events had left him feeling more tired than he had ever felt in his life. His eyes and body were heavy and he could barely keep himself standing upright.

He could see Elora's mouth moving as she spoke silent words, and Queen Astor nodding along with her. The advisor was picking a pencil and pen, drawing as the Gate Keeper spoke. He gripped the edge of the table, blinking wildly in an effort to stay awake. All he wanted to do was sleep.

"-yal? Nyal?" Sound slowly came back to him, and he looked up to see a concerned Elora. "Nyal! What's wrong?"

"Tired," he stated, not looking at the other three people sitting at the table. "I don't feel too good."

She sighed, and Nyal couldn't tell if she was irritated with him or not. "Go to the room you got us, and sleep, I don't know what's wrong, but you obviously need it."

"But, what about the inn?" he asked. "You don't know the way."

"I'll find it myself!" Elora snapped, "Go! I'll sort this out, I have so far."

"It's fine, Nyal," Astor told him, ignoring Nyal's wince. "You really don't look well, you should rest. I hope you feel better in the morning."

He sighed loudly, deciding to let the two women have their way. "Thank you, your Majesty," he breathed, rubbing at his eye with the ball of his hand.

"You're very welcome, now go!" the Queen ordered. Nyal nodded, not wanting to bow in fear of falling over. The exhaustion, while unexpected, made complete sense. He hadn't gotten much sleep the day before, and everything that had happened that day, that week, had gotten to him. Some rest would do him good. He couldn't fight off a dragon in the state he was in.

Part of him did feel bad that he hadn't been there while Elora had been speaking to the Queen, but he couldn't exactly help it. He hadn't expected Azel to show up, at all. He had completely forgotten that the other warlock was even in Fiume.

Barely paying attention to his surroundings, he had walked from the ballroom and down many flights of stairs. When he finally tuned back into reality, he found himself in the entrance hall of the stronghold, a room that was becoming increasingly familiar as the day wore on.

There were a lot more people in the hall than there had been earlier, people coming and going from the ball, servants greeting guests and taking their coats. Nyal found his own hanging on a stand near the door, taking it a pulling it tight around his body.

It was cold and dark outside, the chilly air blowing through the thin clothing and straight onto his skin. He could feel the goosebumps growing. The streets were only illuminated by the occasional house that still had lights on and people moving about, anywhere else was nearly pitch black, with only the faint light from the moon allowing him to see.

The inn he had booked a room at was in the middle of the city, right between to the farms and the river. It was small and hard to find with not many rooms, but it was cheap and clean, and Nyal could hardly complain.

The room was pitch black when he stepped in, no light being allowed in from the thick black curtains that hung over the window. A candle holder sat in the small table between the two beds, the stub of a candle sitting snugly in it.

He didn't bother lighting another candle, just removed his suit jacket and shirt and flopped down onto the bed nearest the window. He barely had the energy to pull the blankets over himself before he fell asleep. His guilt and worry flew away with his consciousness, allowing him to dream happily for the first time since he met Elora.

He didn't remember the dreams when he woke, but he knew they were good, and that they had been interrupted. A quick glance toward the window told him that it was still dark out; no light shone around the edge of the curtain. So why had he woken?

The creak of a floorboard told him that someone else was in the room with him, and was trying to be quiet. His mind told him that it was just Elora coming back from the ball, but his gut told him it was someone else.

He searched around the room for any water he could find, wincing when all he could sense was the little drops of sweat stuck to the other person's skin. He wanted to curse, but it would give away the fact that he was awake.

He heard the sound of the air whooshing behind him, a familiar sound, yet it took him a while to place it. Fire. It was the sound of flames in the air. Definitely not Elora.

His mind was racing, thinking back to the red eyes he had seen at the ball. Could it be? Had the dragon been there at the ball and seen him? Had he missed him? Once again he searched for water, growing all the more desperate. He had begun to sweat, meaning that there was more liquid for him to use. That knowledge only gave him the slightest bit of relief.

Steeling himself, he flung the blanket back so that it blocked the view of the intruder, flying out of the bed. He pulled the sweat from both his body and the intruders, drawing it close to himself. As the thin blanket fluttered down to the ground, he froze the liquid and shot at the dark figure on the other side of the room. The whole thing took less than five seconds.

The flame went out, meaning that Nyal couldn't see his attackers face. There was no sign of the red eyes he had seen last time he had fought the dragon. It made him falter for a split second, giving whoever it was the upper hand.

Fire shot out towards him, illuminating the room for a brief minute as the orange flames licked towards him. He ducked out of the way, hitting his shoulder on the wall and bringing up the little amount of water he had as protection.

He stared at his attackers face in the orange light, eyes wide with shock. "Azel?"

The warlock growled, baring his teeth at Nyal. More fire leapt towards him and Nyal barely had time to block it with his water. He inched back toward the window, only to realise that the curtain had caught fire in the first blast.

Azel was standing in between the two beds, deadly silent, flames licking out of his palm. Looking for an exit, Nyal drew more water from his sweat, but there was barely enough to defend himself, let alone attack Azel. If he shot, he wouldn't have enough to defend. If he defended, he wouldn't have enough to attack.

"What in Veridun are you doing?" he cried, hoping to distract him.

Azel shot out again, the fire whooshing towards him. With a sharp cry, Nyal brought his water up to his face, putting out most of the flames. He groaned in pain as he felt fire crawling up his arm. He would heal it later, he just had to survive first.

"He told me to get rid of you," Azel drawled, lowering his hands. "It would make it easier for the both of us apparently."

"How would it be easier for you?" Nyal asked. If he kept him talking, there wouldn't be any fighting and he could figure a way out. He did have to admit, Azel was a bit of an idiot if he was distracted by talking.

"You'd be out of my way."

"I wasn't in your damn way!"

"You've been in my way since you showed up, you useless bastard!" Azel roared, making Nyal jump. "You were there, taking all the good jobs, when I should have gotten them! I was pushed to the background, because of you! He was right, if I just get rid of you, everything will be easier, and he will reward me."

"Who?" Nyal asked, even though he already knew the answer. Azel growled again, and stalked towards him. Nyal cursed, turning the little amount of water he had into ice and throwing it at the other warlock until there was nothing left. The only way he knew he had hit him was the pained grunts he let out.

It didn't do much to help though. Azel grabbed him around the neck, pinning him against the wall next to the slowly burning curtain. It was a tight grip, not quite blocking off the air. "I don't know his damn name," he snarled. "All I could see were these red eyes, but I know he's right! You need to go!"

Nyal struggled to escape the tight grip, kicking out with all his strength, but Azel barely seemed to notice. He lifted his other hand, fire popping into existence to hover over his palm. He turned it towards Nyal's face, and he could already feel the heat against his skin, making him wince. A tiny part of him knew there was no getting out, he just didn't want to believe it yet.