The chamber around me was massive, built of ice that pulsed faintly with an unnatural glow. No torches. No fires. The walls themselves seemed to radiate a dim, blue light, as if the ice itself was alive.

  I barely felt the cold anymore. I should have. My body should have been wracked with shivers, my breath fogging in the air, but everything felt distant—like my nerves had given up trying to warn me. A creeping numbness settled in my bones, dulling the sharp edges of my pain.

  I was still alive.

  For now

  A figure moved toward me, and I tensed. Tall, slim, with sharp features and pointed ears.

  An elf.

  I had seen elves before—merchants, diplomats, even the occasional mercenary passing through human nds. Their kind had long distanced themselves from mortal wars, preferring to act as observers or, in rare cases, advisors. This one, however, looked entirely at home here in this frozen prison.

  He knelt beside me, murmuring something under his breath. A faint warmth spread over my skin—not much, just enough to take the worst edge off the cold biting into my limbs. I exhaled shakily, the smallest bit of tension leaving my body.

  Then, I noticed her.

  She hadn't moved, watching the exchange with the same quiet amusement she had on the battlefield. Like this was all a minor diversion. Like my existence itself was a passing curiosity.

  Like I didn’t truly matter.

  She spoke first. Her voice was smooth, almost pleasant—except for the fact that I couldn’t understand a single word. The nguage was foreign and ancient. It made my skull ache just to hear it.

  The speech of dragons...Draconic.

  Even without understanding, I knew what it was. The nguage of dragons—words said to be woven with power itself. It was rumored that a dragon’s true name, spoken in their tongue, could reshape reality.

  The elf responded in Elvish, his tone respectful but measured. This wasn’t a simple transtion. It was a conversation—one I wasn’t meant to understand.

  I caught only fragments.

  Why? Humans. Magic. Weapon. Kill.

  My stomach twisted slightly at the st word.

  The dragon’s gaze flicked to me. She spoke again, slower this time, her voice curling through the chamber like a bde being drawn from its sheath.

  I clenched my jaw. She doesn’t know I can’t understand her.

  The elf hesitated, then looked to me then something that I could not understand. His words were clear, but my understanding of the nguage was just too poor. I grasped the basics, but the speed and vocabury he utilized left me lost.

  The elf turned toward her, then back to me, his expression unreadable. Then, in a much slower tone of voice, he spoke in common.

  "Where did you get the spear?"

  I hesitated. My tongue felt heavy in my mouth, every instinct screaming at me to be careful with my words.

  "I don't know. I was from the sorcerer and he wasn't really in much of a chatty mood." I responded.

  Adding, "Well, he kind of was, but not in that way. We were just tasked with killing the cultists."

  The elf nodded and turned back to her, reying my answer in Elvish.

  Can he not speak Draconic? I watched his lips move, picking out a few familiar words, though they blurred together in my mind.

  The dragon listened, impassive, before speaking again. Another question. The elf turned back to me.

  "Why?"

  I exhaled slowly, my breath misting in the cold air.

  Why? Because it was a job. Because the lord had paid me to do it. Because the alternative was leaving dangerous magic in the hands of fanatics.

  "They were dangerous. They’d been wielding powerful artifacts—things that shouldn’t be in their hands."

  The dragon listened, her expression unreadable. The elf transted, but again, I could not keep up with the conversation, catching only a few words here and there.

  Hunting. Killing. Dangerous.

  Something felt… off.

  "Who did this cult serve?" the elf asked.

  I swallowed. That’s a good question. Even after all the blood spilled, we still didn’t have a damn answer.

  "I don't know. We thought they were just madmen, but probably one of the neighboring kingdoms."

  The elf reyed my answer, and this time, the dragon’s gaze sharpened. The air in the chamber grew heavier, an unseen pressure pressing against my skin.

  She spoke again, and this time, the words themselves seemed to dig into my mind. A sound both alien and… commanding. I couldn’t expin it, but the weight behind them made my chest tighten.

  This was Draconic. And even without understanding, I felt the power behind it.

  The elf stiffened beside me, clearly uneasy. He hesitated before speaking.

  "She wants to know where you learned Elvish."

  I blinked at the abrupt shift in questioning. It took a moment for me to collect my thoughts, but I decided to respond in kind.

  "Help humans. Many seasons. Teach…" My Elvish was rough, clumsy. I had never needed to speak it fluently, learning just enough to communicate orders.

  The elf’s face remained impassive, but something flickered in his eyes. He didn’t like that answer.

  The dragon’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before she spoke again. Whatever she said made the elf visibly tense. He hesitated.

  She repeated herself, sharper this time.

  The elf flinched, then turned back to me. His expression was carefully controlled, but I caught the tightness in his jaw.

  "She wants to know why humans are wielding magic of this scale."

  I frowned. We don’t.

  "We don't," I said aloud.

  The elf’s lips pressed together. "You were," he said, pointing at the spear in the dragon's hands.

  "That wasn't me! We were sent to take it from those madmen. I had no interest in their cursed relic or their cult. It was just another job."

  The elf’s brows furrowed slightly. Doubt flickered across his face, but he transted my words. I only caught a few fragments—Sorcerer. Job. Kill. Why.

  The dragon listened, but her expression betrayed nothing.

  I didn’t trust that silence.

  She spoke again, and the elf turned toward her. This time, something in his hesitation made my skin crawl. He repeated my words—I could tell that much—but as I listened more closely, I realized what felt off. He was changing my answers.

  The transtion was shorter. Less direct.

  He was smoothing something over.

  My heartbeat sped up.

  He's lying!

  The words left my mouth before I fully thought them through, interrupting the elf mid-conversation.

  "Wrong."

  The elf stiffened. The dragon exhaled, a sound that was almost… pleased.

  She spoke again, louder with a violent undertone.

  The elf stopped breathing for a moment before she spoke once more.

  He took a deep gasp of air and clutched his jacket. He nodded quickly, then raised a hand, forming a sigil. Something invisible washed over me.

  "Now, human. Tell me everything."