Fate of the Marked

Red Fire Dragon

I turned to Bram first. "You're the anchor. That hammer of yours is going to be critical. We need you to keep its attention, stay on its blind spots, and deliver heavy hits when you can. But don't get greedy. A dragon's tail is just as deadly as its claws."

Bram gave a short nod, hefting his hammer onto his shoulder. "Don't worry. I've handled worse."

"Not like this, you haven't," I shot back, my tone sharp but not unkind.

I looked to Lyara next. "You're support, as always. Shields first, healing second. Keep Bram and Kael on their feet, but don't waste mana on little scratches. We need you focused and steady. That dragon's going to be relentless."

Lyara nodded, her expression focused. "Understood."

Finally, I turned to Kael. Who's now at the face of the dragon, looking nervous. Understandable.

"And you," I said, jabbing my staff in his direction. "You're fast, which is going to be our biggest advantage. I want you on the edges, staying out of its direct line of fire. When it's distracted by Bram, go for the soft spots—eyes, wings, underbelly. Use your speed, but don't be a hero. If you go down, you're dead."

Kael only reply shortly, "Got it." He said, then kept quiet while watching the dragon.

"And I'll be focusing on the big spells," I continued. "Dragons are tough, but they aren't invincible. I'll aim for its joints and weak points to slow it down. If it tries to take off, I'll ground it. And if all else fails... we improvise."

"Improvise?" Bram repeated, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged. "It's worked so far."

The group nodded, determination settling over us as we began moving toward the edge of the village, scanning the terrain for the perfect battlefield.

Even from a distance, the dragon's gaze burned into us. Its molten gold eyes locked onto our group the moment we entered the village, its massive head tilting ever so slightly as if it were already deciding how best to kill us.

The oppressive weight of its stare followed us as we made our way to the field, pointed out by one of the villagers. "It's mine," the man had said, his voice trembling but firm. "Use it if it means that thing's gone for good."

The field stretched out before us, a flat expanse of dry, cracked earth dotted with sparse tufts of grass. There were no trees, no rocks—just open space, perfect for what we needed.

As we reached the center, Bram rolled his shoulders, the heavy armor shifting with a metallic creak. He swung his hammer a few times, the thrusters sparking faintly as he tested its weight. "Always better to warm up before a fight," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Kael, on the other hand, was quiet—too quiet. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, his short blade in hand, but his usual grin was nowhere to be found. His eyes flicked toward the dragon on the hill, then quickly back to the ground.

I tilted my head, watching him. "Nervous?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Kael exhaled sharply, giving me a quick, tight smile. "What? No. Okay, maybe. A little. I mean, look at it." He gestured vaguely toward the dragon. "That thing's huge. Is it... supposed to be that huge?"

"To be fair," I said, leaning on my staff, "this is my first dragon too."

Kael's eyes widened. "Wait, what? You've never fought a dragon?"

Before I could reply, Lyara spoke up, her voice calm as she adjusted her staff. "I have," she said, glancing between us. "With Bram. It was a smaller one—young, maybe a quarter the size of this one. Still took twenty people to bring it down, and even then, it was a close thing." She looked at Bram, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Without me, you'd have been toast."