Elora's eyes hurt from lack of sleep. It had been two days since they had parted ways with Elizabeth and her group. They were well on their way to Planina. They had finally moved away from the cliffs and the ocean, the salty smell slowly fading from the air.

She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. Zlohiel had found them in the middle of the night and didn't stop coming until the sun began to rise. It had been the worst night since the Gate had opened. None of them had slept since the first monster attacked them not long after sunset.

All four of them walked with bags under their eyes, bodies slumped and feet dragging through the grass and dirt. The ground was still yet with the morning dew and it squelched loudly under their feet. They had been walking for so long that Elora had begun to hate the sound.

They hadn't seen any other standing villages since the last one they'd met Elizabeth in. They had passed by one town, but it was in ruins, much like the rest of the realm. They didn't even bother going through it, only walked by with haunted expressions on their tired faces. There was nothing they could do.

Now though, Elora could see the beginnings of a forest on the horizon. Dark green trees dotted the land, tempting the demigod with the idea of safety and shelter. Without speaking a word, the group headed towards it. The forest would lead up into the mountains, it would just take some time.

They hadn't been told where exactly the survivors were holding up, which made Elora assume they were spread out through Planina. She could only guess that most of them would be with the princess near the castle. She could easily find it, having been there many times before. Planina never changed much over the years.

Her father had been whispering to her constantly since they left the other town. He never seemed to be able to make up his mind about whether or not she was doing the right thing. He wanted her to go to Planina, to fight Gaizma but continued to tell her that she was a screwup, that she couldn't fix anything. She didn't know what she was meant to do.

She didn't dare tell Nyal anything Yararanje was saying, lest he grows angrier than he already was. She didn't want to see what would happen if he did. He had changed since the Gate had opened, not by much, but enough for her to notice. He used to get sucked up in the nature around him and was always smiling about something. He was a friendly person, always wanting to help.

Now, he was angrier, sadder. She couldn't blame him for it, but he worried her. He never looked awed by anything he saw now, only looked at it like it was something he had lost a long time ago. It was her fault he was like it, her fault that Riba and Voda were gone. All she could do now was make sure the rest of the realm was safe so that she could see the happy awestruck look on his face again.

She would defeat Gaizma during the battle the people of Planina were organising. She had time to grow stronger, to be the demigod she had once been, so long ago. She had defeated Gaizma once, she could do it again, despite what the dragon had told her.

Nyal and the others would help her, as much as they could. Nyal was the dragon's one weakness, and most likely the only other Healer left in existence. She could only assume the other two were already dead, one was an old man and the other was only a child. She couldn't imagine either of them surviving long enough to be of any help.

The Healers had died out so quickly during the first war with the Zlohiel. There had been so many of them, enough to fill an army. They had made battles against the dragons much easier than they normally would have been. But they were targeted and killed before they ever had to chance to rise to their full potential.

There weren't many that survived the war, and a lot died of sickness and injury afterwards, leaving the population to grow ever smaller. They found out not long after that that the ability to heal was not a genetic one and was instead given to those the Gods chose.

The Gods chose fewer and fewer Healers as time went on. When Elora had asked her father many years ago, the only answer she had been given was that they were no longer needed to fight off dragons, so the realm only needed a handful. She couldn't help but scoff at how well the lack of Healers had turned out for them. She was only grateful that she had been able to find Nyal before everything went wrong.

She sighed and stopped, stretching out her wings and groaning at the sensation. Her muscles were beginning to ache from the rough sleep and constant walking. She needed to have a break for five minutes and stretch her limbs.

"Are you okay, Elora?" Mikhail asked, causing everyone else to stop and turn around.

"I'm fine," she replied, lifting her arms high above her head. "My wings are aching a little."

"We should stop for a few minutes then," Nyal replied. "I wouldn't mind a break either, my legs are tired."

Ragen only let out a grunt, falling to the ground and stretching out his legs in front on him. He rubbed at them, staring up at the trio still standing in the grass. "What?" I've been wanting to stop for a while now."

"You should have said something earlier," Mikhail said.

"No, it's fine," came the reply. "We're getting close to the forest anyway." Ragen pointed off into the distance, where the deep green of trees was still only peeking out from above the horizon.

Elora nodded. "We won't stop for long," she said. "I want us to get over there by sundown, but we do need to stop for a bit."

Nyal took the opportunity to open his rucksack and pull out some of the food they had taken from the small town a couple of days beforehand. Ragen and Mikhail drank from the little amount of water they had left. They had divided it up, most went to drinking, but some always went to Nyal so that he could use his powers when he needed to.

Elora munched on stale bread, her wings still stretched out wide behind her. The feeling of the wind running through them relaxed her and alleviated the pain somewhat. She tilted her head back, staring up at the bright blue sky. The clouds moved slowly by, calm and unknowing. She wished she could be up there with them, flying all her worries away.

"Um, Elora?" Mikhail started. She looked down at him, frowning at the worried look on his face. "What's that?" He pointed into the distance behind her.

Elora span, blanching at the sight. A crowd on Zlohiel were flying along the horizon. She couldn't count the exact number from where she was standing, but she knew there was a lot, too many for them to handle.

"Get down!" she cried, dropping down into the wet grass. The others followed suit, flattening themselves against the ground. She didn't know how much it would help them, not with her obvious black clothing standing out against the green, but it was the only thing they could do.

She watched the group of Zlohiel fly across the fields, heading towards the forest on the horizon. "What do we do?" Nyal whispered next to her, hand reaching out to touch her arm.

"I don't know," she replied, not looking at him. "Just stay down. If we're lucky, they won't see us." It went quiet after that. The only sound was the wind and the sound of the group's heavy and worried breathing.

A faint roar sounded across the plains, echoing in Elora's ears. She hissed in a breath, staring up at the threat nearby. She gasped as the group of Zlohiel began to turn away from the forest and towards them.

"By the gods," Mikhail whispered.

Elora blanched. "Run!" she cried. She jumped to her feet and pulled Nyal up with her. Another roar rang out as her feet pounded against the grass. She didn't know where she was running to, just away from the Zlohiel. Nyal ran next to her, stand still grasping hers. She could hear Ragen and Mikhail running behind her.

They ran parallel to the forest, Elora hoping that eventually, it would turn towards them and they would be able to escape. A voice in the back of her head told her that the Zlohiel would catch up to them before that would happen.

Another roar rang out behind her and she looked over her shoulder towards it. A gryphon had strayed from the group, flying low towards them. With a hiss of breath, Elora gathered her magic, watching the darkness swirl around her like strips of cloth.

Dropping Nyal's hand, Elora stopped and turned to face the gryphon. She faintly heard Nyal yell out her name, but only ignored him. The gryphon saw her stop and changed its trajectory, flying straight for her. It squawked loudly, its huge beak opening wide, ready to swallow Elora whole.

She smirked and took the only chance she had available to her. She struck out, shooting the tendrils of darkness towards the Zlohiel. The gryphon screamed as it was bombarded with Elora's magic, one tendril shooting through its neck. Dark blood poured from the wound, splattering against the bright green grass.

She began to move backwards, watching the gryphon flail in the air and try to stay off the ground. A brief look over her shoulder told her that the others had continued running, but the other Zlohiel were still following them. She cursed, turning completely away from the dying gryphon and chasing after the three men.

She heard the gryphon fall to the ground with a loud thump behind her, letting out one final cry. Part of her felt triumphant at the death of the monster, but watching her friend be chased by others pushed the feeling aside completely.

She looked up into the sky, gathering her magic once again, only to catch a glimpse of a familiar grey dragon quickly gaining on Nyal and the others. She gasped, launching her magic at Gaizma. If she could distract him, then Nyal and the other two would be safe. The darkness wrapped around the dragon's leg, pulling him down and shocking him away from his prey. He swivelled in the sky, eyes locking on Elora.

He roared at her, catching the attention of the other dragons and gryphons flying with him. They all stopped in the air and stared at her and for a second Elora thought they would all come rushing at her, that they were about to kill her. She knew they would remember her, the one who had them locked away, she knew they wanted her dead.

But instead, they flew off, back in the direction of the forest, until it was only Gaizma left. Without sparing even a second, Elora launched into the air, not high enough for Gaizma to reach her, but enough for her to gain the speed to catch up to Nyal. She always was a faster flyer than she was a runner. She hissed at the ache in her wings due to the sudden flight but ignored it. She needed to get to Nyal.

She could see Gaizma ahead of her, rushing towards her friends. He would kill them without a thought if she didn't reach them in time. He said he wouldn't kill her, but he never said anything about the others. She could see Nyal and Ragen gathering their own magic and getting ready for whatever fight was about to come.

She landed behind them before Gaizma even had a chance to get to the ground. He roared and flew ahead of the group, hovering in the air in front of them. Elora barely had a second to gather her magic before a tunnel of flame was flying towards them. Both her and Nyal pulled up shields with their magic, and she heard Mikhail curse the heat.

A loud thud shook the ground as Gaizma landed on the grass in front of them. The group skidded to a stop, feet slipping on the wet grass. He began to shift as the group gathered their footing, shrinking to something in between a dragon and a person. Scales covered most of his skin, and his red eyes were locked on Elora. His greasy hair flew away from his face, only showing off the silver scales more.

"I didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon, little demigod," he laughed. "And there are more of you this time." He scoffed at her, stalking forwards. Nyal began to move next to her, going to step in front of her. She stretched out her wings, blocking him from moving.

"Don't," she snapped. "It will only get you killed."

"Smart girl," Gaizma growled, stopping only a metre or two from her. He towered over her, a snarl forming on his lips. "I see you have listened to my words. The war will be soon, Elora. Have you heard the screams of banshees yet? The sounds that tell you your friends will die?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, listening to the sounds of the men behind her shuffle and shake in fear. She needed to get them out of harm's way.

"No, of course, you don't," he muttered. "I'm sure you will hear them soon. Do not expect them to make it through the coming battles, they are so much weaker than you. Look at them shake, I'm surprised they have not soiled themselves yet. You only degrade yourself by keeping such weak company."

"Shut your cursed mouth, dragon!" Ragen cried from behind her. Elora's eyes widened, finding the first moment in her life where she had wanted to dismember a warlock.

Gaizma laughed again, scaled wings stretching out behind him "They may be weak, but they have an attitude. Ah, my little demigod, it will be interesting to see your reaction when I tear them apart."

The hulking dragon grinned at her, showing off sharp teeth and fangs. Elora barely had time to suck in a breath before Gaizma was launching forwards, claws ready to grab the first person he could reach and fire crawling up his throat.