22. Shadowplay

The wyrm is barely a breath away from reaching Shadow and me. Its roar crashes through the air like thunder, its blistering heat nearly melting the skin from my bones. Each swipe of the beast’s claws is an echo of death drawing closer, and for a heartbeat, everything slows—every second stretching out like eternity.

Shadow pulls me behind a pile of rocks, his body shielding mine as if my life depends on it. Stones explode around us as the wyrm slashes in our direction, and the ground quakes beneath the weight of its fury. The stone cavern gives us the smallest pocket of shelter, but even here, the monster’s power reverberates through the walls.

“I don’t know how much longer we can hold out,” I whisper, as Shadow’s breath quickens, his chest rising and falling with frantic urgency.

He nods, his eyes burning with resolve—but beneath it, I see a glimmer of fear. A fear I never thought I’d witness in him. One without answers or clear escapes.

“I know,” he says, his voice tight with barely-contained rage and desperation. “But I won’t let it hurt you. No matter what it costs.”

A shiver runs down my spine. The magnitude of the danger is undeniable, and I realize we’re at a breaking point. There’s no turning back. This won’t end with words, or a shift in direction. The wyrm won’t let us go without a fight.

Through the gap between the rocks, we watch the creature’s massive form slithering through the mist. It doesn’t stop—its serpentine body pushes forward, searching for a weakness. But there is none.

“We need a plan,” I say, my mind racing to find any thread of strategy. There’s no time for anything but survival.

Shadow nods, his face composed—but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am: we’re facing something far beyond anything we’ve ever imagined.

“We have to weaken it somehow,” he says, his voice laced with a practical clarity I’ve never heard from him before. “Maybe the rocks—something we can use from the terrain. We don’t have many options, but we have to try.”

As I watch the beast close in again, a cold sense of hopelessness threatens to take hold. Every second feels like we’re trapped in a game of shadows, where every move matters—and a single misstep could be our end.

“We can’t let it corner us,” Shadow says, his determination surprising me—reviving me. “If we can draw its attention somewhere else, we might find an opening.”

My eyes lock onto his face, searching for any trace of doubt, any crack in his resolve. But all I find is pure intensity. There is no room for fear. Only strategy. Only survival.

“We’ll lure it toward that hill,” I say, pointing to a rise in the land nearby. “If we can get up there, we might have the advantage.”

Shadow nods, his gaze sharpening, though urgency still hums beneath every move he makes. We rise carefully, every step deliberate, while the wyrm glides across the terrain with unrelenting speed. But now… it seems angrier. Almost frantic. Maybe it smells the fear—or maybe it simply wants vengeance for being defied by mortals.

When we reach the hilltop, we find ourselves on higher ground, able to see the battlefield unfold below. Shadow takes a protective stance at my side as we watch the wyrm from above.

“This is our only shot,” he says, voice tense but tinged with the faintest sliver of hope.

“Yes,” I reply, more confident than I feel. I have no idea how we’ll survive this. But for now, the elevation gives us something—a chance.

The wyrm senses the shift. It lets out a furious roar, louder than before, as if enraged by our audacity. Its tail snaps upward toward us, slicing through the air with terrifying speed.

“Watch out!” Shadow shouts, throwing himself between me and the blow, as though he’d sacrifice everything just to keep me from harm.

A knot tightens in my throat as I watch him stand against each strike of the wyrm. His resilience, his raw courage—it fills me with an unexpected pride… and a deeper fear. The fire in his eyes mirrors my own. We are trapped in a moment of despair, but also one of strange unity—something I never expected to find in the midst of such chaos.

And though we know this is only a pause in the inevitable end, we keep fighting.

Because we have no other choice.

The wyrm recoils for a moment, almost as if reassessing us, giving us a brief moment to breathe. But that breath is fleeting. I know—this isn’t over.

“Come on, Eve,” Shadow says, his voice lower now, almost gentle—but still straining under the weight of tension. “We can do this.”

And for a fleeting second… I believe him.

Because maybe this fight isn’t just about surviving.

Maybe it’s about knowing that, no matter what comes next—

We won’t face it alone.