Snippet #2655160

Alasahe saw what would happen before it did, not through any kind of foresight or premonition, but through the dread welling up in the pit of her stomach. This was the way of the world, the life of a rider. You set off on a stroll through your lands, and your unicorn was killed, prompting your kin to be sent to kill you. You head off on a seemingly benign mission to slay a beast, and die yourself. The life of a rider was flashy, brief, and ironic.

She locked eyes with Ben, and sensed that he would not do it. He fiddled with the bombs, and Orpheus tossed something to Dae. Alasahe narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She would not falter. She would never tell anyone of the sick feeling that writhed in the center of her chest. Fiir knew, but he did not seem to notice. Mortality made one short-sighted, and she was much more mortal than he. He was used to her qualms and he carried on despite him.

Dae scrambled to his feet and cried out, "Blast it!" and Alasahe was already lining up her shot.

She took her bough of fae wood and reached forward, holding it aloft in front of Fiir's snout. The dragon heaved a breath and Alasahe turned her face into his neck, squeezing her eyes shut as flames erupted from his mouth. The flames shot like a pillar, straight and true, right at the Kelpie and Dae beside it.