t was like a massive flood of caffeine washing over him while he slurped gasoline straight from an oil rig. Hot and cold. Yin and...whoops, almost culture-vultured. What’s the Indian version of Yin and Yang? No idea? Me neither, and I’m definitely not googling it. Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, basically, there was a contrast, man. We’ve seen this a million times before.

And then nothing.

It wasn’t as if the power vanished from his grasp. It was there, as if behind a pane of glass. He could see it, but couldn’t touch it. Why?

He looked up, the rat-man-dragon smiling knowingly at him, then turned his attention to the elf, the smile quivering. “You assured me the boy had not discovered his powers yet, Exiled One. Your kind is so slippery with their words that I had forgotten they hold as much weight as a leaf.”

Pevarin stared at Zach, ignoring the RMD (rat-man-dragon) for the most part, his face twisted in confusion and apprehension, “I did not think that he had.”

The dragon studied him quietly, “You speak truly,” he finally said, genuinely surprised, then laughed harder than any man his size should have been capable of, “Interesting! You bring much excitement to our world, Hero. The revelry to come shall be delectable indeed. You change the flow of this fragile reality simply by stumbling unknowingly through it like the blind babe that you are,” the dragon said, his eyes changed from a solid black to the familiar molten orange-yellow. Zach was running out of time.

“Let us go to the Spire of Light’s Peak. Lucinder is eager to meet you, Hero, and he is not the only one. The Emperor will reward us for delivering you straight to his hands. Unfortunately for you,” the dragon continued, laughing, “he is not known for the quarter he spares his enemies.”

How could he reach it? He tested it, pushing against the unseen barrier. It was flexible, not exactly strong. But that just meant it would be more difficult to break. The air around them blew with an unnatural breeze as what could only be a portal manifested before them, an imperial chamber shining with red and gold beyond.

“This is...different,” said Pevarin, his long hair fluttering in the wind, his eyes uncertain.

The dragon frowned, then growled, saying, “If you’ve not the nerve then remain here. I am taking the child as we agreed. Come boy,” the dragon beckoned with a long finger, “I will not suffer your spirit any longer, no matter how amusing it is,”

He pounded at the barrier in his mind, but he only slid off of it, his attempts rebuffed with an indifference that infuriated him. Where was the fucking counterplay? How was this balanced? He supposed that real life was never balanced. Life’s tough, unfair, yadda-yadda. Things he’d heard all his life. When life gives you lemons, make...

He reached again, tentatively, probingly at the shield between him and the magic. What was it exactly that was being blocked? He could still feel the power, the well of energy within him. That meant only the spell he had tried to form was being blocked. The dragon underestimated him and thought he was incapable of doing much beyond rudimentary casting, which was correct. But what if he prepared another spell?

The dragon’s smile evaporated, his eyes narrowing as he swatted the attempt away in their invisible battle, “I warned you, boy,” he said, and the sound of cloth tearing preceded the appearance of a long spike-riddled tail, and then it-

He was lifted into the air as furniture was either crushed or flung aside, the tail impaling him through his side. “N-nothing vital, I-” he said, breaking off to cough up blood. That was unexpected. He thought that was just something that happened in anime and movies. The world rushed by, the other side of the room coming closer like he was zooming in on Google Chrome, He was pulled to just in front of him the rat-man-dragon, the beast snarling in irritation.

“Try that again and you will wish your mother never prostrated herself before your father, whelp.”

He spat blood into the dragon’s eye, his head pounding with rage, terror, and pain. So, so much pain. He stretched another hand towards the creation of a new spell, then another, then another, the dragon’s face going slack from how hard he was forced to concentrate.

“How...are you...doing this?”

He navigated and weaved a maze within the labyrinth he was trapped in, the dragon forced to follow him in order to keep him separated from the spells hovering in their cradles. The creature only assumed he would just keep making as many more as it took to finally cast one, but he had already thought far beyond that. He knew what he wanted, and it hadn’t changed since the very start.

There.

He took hold of the magic and let it fill him as much as he was capable of holding, then even more. His skin buckled and trembled as it leaked out of him, and his vision blackened from the agony, but he endured it with gritted teeth.

“There’s one thing you should know about me,” he said, his voice calm, the arcane energy lending him strength. “I fucking hate losing.”

The energy danced and bounded through space, barely tethered by his untrained hand, and he let it go, aiming directly for the very first shield the dragon had placed. The rat-man's eyes widened to the point that they nearly popped out of his head, and he yelled in defiance, but the explosion that followed drowned even his roar as Zach was thrown and rebounded by the force of the dozens of spells he had woven being released at once. It was impossible to see, his eyes only able to take in an overwhelming view of fire and brimstone. A sense of weightlessness filled him for a few moments before the unmistakable tug of gravity pressing down slammed into his gut, and he reached out blindly for anything to grab on to, although he knew it was pointless. Something broke his fall after a few moments, but he lacked control, still unable to see, and he bounced off of it roughly before he was redirected to the ground.

His side was fire itself, and his head swam through an agonizing haze, but he managed to retain clarity and awareness. Get up. I can’t stop. If I stop, I die.

He pushed himself up, blinking hard a few times, rubbing the front of his forearm, which was covered in scrapes and cuts, across his face. The house was gone. Only splinters and charred strips of woods remained, a loose rivet or screw twirling about endlessly in the quiet air. He looked around, and his heart dropped. Where the town had once stood, where they all had once stood, now was a crater in the ground. This...this was how strong he was? He was already capable of this? How? Smoke floated by lazily, and he coughed, hacking up blood and phlegm, spitting it out distastefully. He squinted his eyes, seeing that there was something gleaming behind the pillowy gray smoke clouds that occupied the crater around him.

A red dome pulsed and shone for another moment before winking out, Egan and Selara standing protectively over a few of the children. Some survived, he thought thankfully. He locked eyes with Selara, and she gave him a short nod, her face grim.

It had to be done. You did well. She seemed to say. He relaxed slightly. She understood. Turning back around, he peered about the ruins, searching for the corpse of the dragon. He hoped Pevarin had survived somehow. There was another exposition dump coming soon, he was sure of it.

A deep laugh, rich and full of something distinctly inhuman echoed around him. “Why do I hear boss music?” he said under his breath, standing upright with a grunt of pain. Where was it? He spun around, looking every which way, but it was nowhere to be seen. Of course, there was one place he hadn’t thought to look yet. He raised his head to the sky, grimacing.

It hovered far above, the sun flashing every time it beat its wings in the sky. “Your mettle is of sterner stuff, Hero. I am called Rykaren-Es'Rundar. In your tongue, it means, ‘Gloomfire’. What is your name? I would know it before we fight in earnest.”

This was something he could get used to. Respect. Not for the imaginary person behind his IGN. Not for Mellend.

For Zachary fucking Ali.

“Zachary,” he yelled strongly, clearly, proudly then paused, “of House Ali. In my world, I am renowned for my prowess in battle against your kind. In fact,” he said, smirking, “they call me Dragonslayer.”

The dragon laughed again, unperturbed by his declaration, “Your words carry the weight of sincerity! I must thank you, Zachary the Dragonslayer. Long has it been since my full strength has been tested in battle. I have languished in the squalor that these cretins call peace, wasting away in luxury. The thrill of battle is the only remedy for the affliction that plagues me. I feel. So. ALIVE.” he roared, the sound like thunder, a massive jet of flame, larger than any Selara could produce rending the sky, and Zach resisted the urge to put his hands over his ears despite the pain. So, this thing was an adrenaline junkie? He could relate.

Everything hurt. He felt exhausted, his clothes torn and there wasn’t an extremity on his person that wasn’t cut or bleeding openly. Still, something kept him going. Maybe it was just the adrenaline that surely pulsed within, Maybe it was the magic humming in his ears. Maybe it was the part of him that always wished to be free, to do something, that did not wish to fade quietly into the nothingness of an easy, privileged life. Maybe he was wrong for feeling this way. Maybe. Maybe. But fuck it. He smiled. That was happening a lot lately. He wondered how he looked then, battered and bleeding in a crater of his own making, standing defiantly against an impossible foe, the sun casting a shadow over him. His vision focused, his mind blocking out everything that wasn’t necessary.

He was here. He was alive. He didn’t need to think about what he should have done, what might happen. All that mattered was what he chose to do right here, right now. It became clear to him then why he could smile so widely, why it felt so good. All of his life had been passive acceptance. He was too weak. Too much of a coward. He didn’t deserve to be happy, he deserved to fade away quietly, his pain and sorrow self-afflicted. Starting today, he was going to fight back.

And he didn’t intend to lose for a long, long time.