Kenna Ashfyre

"You can come out. I know you're following me." Kenna didn't bother looking behind her. Instead, she waited until the faint footsteps became louder and the girl with flaming hair finally appeared beside her.

"Hi," the girl said, looking as though the greeting took all the courage she possessed to get out.

Kenna raised an elegant eyebrow. "Can I help you with something?"

"Can I go with you?"

Kenna scoffed and shook her head. "I threatened to kill you not two hours ago and now you want to come with me?"

"Well, I figured it might be easier to navigate this maze together."

"I don't need help." Kenna resumed her trek into the dungeon, marking her path on the bricks as she went. The footsteps behind her didn't cease.

With a resigned sigh, Kenna glanced back at the girl. "I'm not going to save you if things go wrong."

"That's okay," the girl nodded. "No one ever does."

Had she been a kinder, softer person, Kenna might've cried at the response. Cried for the girl and her heartbreak and her loneliness. But she was not that kind of person, not anymore. The king had made sure of that when he took everything from her. Sympathy was a luxury for the privileged. It had no place in her heart.

It was sometime later, after the women found themselves face to face with a hoard of rats, that the girl spoke again. "I'm Evelyn, by the way."

"Did I ask?" Kenna scanned the fork in the hallway, wrinkling her nose as something putrid drifted down one path. The ball of fire floated down the path, illuminating nothing but more brick walls.

"I thought maybe you'd want to know."

Kenna heard a growl and a cry from the stinking fork and decided against the path. Whoever was down there would either clear the way for her later or die trying. Their death could "Nope."

"Okay."

Okay. Not 'why not?' Not 'how rude.' Just okay. At least the journey together would be a quiet one.

They spent the next hour exploring two rooms, each one filled with treasures—and spiders the size of Kenna's face—but what she was looking for. But the third room was an amphitheater. Great stone benches lined the curved edge, all facing a deep blue circle against the middle of the back wall. Candles floated in the air, illuminating the space with a hauntingly warm glow.

Along the walls, stone outlines of men were sculpted into the stone. Kenna approached the one closest to the door. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and his eyes were closed. Maybe he was sleeping... no, not sleeping, but caught in the eternal slumber of death.

Kenna spun around, noticing the black robes discarded about the room. What was this place? Nothing good happened here; she could tell that much. But if this room were hiding what she sought, she'd search it high and low.

"This place gives me the creeps," Evelyn said from behind her, her voice timid.

"You are welcome to leave." Kenna took a step down, her foot knocking against something hard a loose. Something that looked alarmingly like a bone.

The candles, death carvings, and black robes all resembled something religious. But no religion she'd heard of met in the depths of the dungeons. As she moved further into the room, the blue circle rippled, its surface moving to a faint breeze—a breeze she couldn't feel for herself. It wasn't a circle; it was a pond.

Kenna peered into the pond, the surface glittering against the thousands of candles. Something moved in the depths, something that glinted against the light. And beyond that, the dark wood of a chest.

The movement caught her eye again and slowly, the head of the creature rose above the surface, liquid raining down on top of them as they scrambled back. The creature's long and narrow body was covered in scales. But unlike the other monster she'd encountered, this one was a dragon, large teeth poked out of a wide mouth. Two horns twisted off the top of his head. Two red eyes stared at Kenna and Evelyn, unblinking, before sinking back beneath the surface.

Kenna recognized this kind of dragon, but it dwelled in the seas, not in dungeons. How long had it been trapped here?

With a start, Kenna kicked off her boots and began removing her sheath. The dragons were gentle creatures, but captivity made devils out of angels. She'd have to be careful down there.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get that chest." Kenna tossed her sword aside and began removing her leather armor.

"Did you not see that thing?"

"Dragon," Kenna corrected. "Not thing."

"I'm sure there are other chests out there."

"Not ones guarded by dragons." Without waiting for a response, Kenna took a deep breath, approached the edge with her sword in hand, and dove into the pond.

The moment her body hit the frigid liquid, the dragon turned its enormous eyes on her. And its mouth opened wide.

There was no warning before it shot forward and Kenna had mere seconds to swim out of the way.

If there were a way to avoid hurting the dragon, she would. It was no more a prisoner of circumstance than she. Fate was a cruel and fickle mistress to sinners and saints alike.

The dragon swung around, red eyes watching her move before diving at her once more.

Kenna shot upward, breaching the surface and sucking in a long breath before diving into the pond once more. She needed it to stop, to hear her.

Kenna held out a hand as the dragon turned back toward her, approaching her slowly. She let the fire burning within her warm her skin, illuminating her face. I'm like you, she wanted to say. I'm as old as you. As broken as you. See me, as I see you.

The dragon stopped short, head tilting to watch her. Kenna let her fire grow until her skin took on a golden shine. When the dragon didn't move, Kenna swam forward. Let me help you, she thought.

The dragon bowed its head as Kenna approached and allowed her to press a glowing hand to its forehead.

Images flashed through her mind. Images of death and destruction and sorrow and loss. She saw the dragon stolen from its home as a child. Saw its terror as it was dumped into the pond and worshiped like a deity. Worshipped, but kept a prisoner.

And when Kenna saw it all, she shared her story, images tearing from her mind into the dragon's head. She shared her life in the mountains before the war, before the conquering king took everything from her. And she bared her soul.

Perhaps the two were kindred spirits, stolen from a life they could've lived. Should've lived.

And when she was done, the dragon bowed its head and moved aside. Kenna let her light die, and dove for the chest, casting her sword aside to lift the box.

But then the dragon let out a screech. Kenna glanced up, watching in horror as her sword stuck fast in its tail.

Oh no.

It lashed out, knocking the chest out of Kenna's grasp and the air out of her lungs. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Her lungs quickly filled, and spots lined her vision.

Even as the dragon thrashed, Kenna started back up. She needed air soon, or she'd lose consciousness, trapped forever in a space between life and death.

The dragon's tail flicked back around, slamming Kenna into the wall.

Pain exploded from her back, her lungs, her limbs. And she was helpless against it. Kenna's body went limp, and she sunk down, down, down.

Through her haze, Kenna saw a flickering light. Heard another screech. And felt something tug on her arm.

The next thing she knew, Kenna was coughing and spluttering, spilling the contents of her lungs on the floor of the amphitheater.

Evelyn stood in front of her, arms wrapped around her torso, shaking like a leaf in the wind. The wooden chest was open on its side, a damp scroll spilling from its depths, and her sword lay on the ground not far away.

All that for another damned scroll? Kenna cursed under her breath before a small cough caught her attention. "Why are your flames flickering like that?" Kenna croaked, throat still sore.

"Because I'm burning out. Moisture and I don't mix."

"What do you mean 'burning out'?"

Evelyn coughed again and sunk to her knees, shivering. Her skin steamed and her hair fizzled in and out. "I'm dying."

"Why would you jump in the pond if you knew you would die?"

"Because you were dying."

Kenna looked at Evelyn with fresh eyes. The timid, cowering girl was dripping wet, her hair flickering in and out. She was alive, but for how long? Why would she do that? Sacrifice herself for someone she barely knew, let alone someone who threatened to murder her?

Why would Evelyn save Kenna? Kenna, who couldn't die. Kenna, who was rude and crass and a despicable excuse for a soul. It didn't make sense.

This young woman was selfless. Brave. Kind.

Tears pricked at Kenna's eyes unbidden, and she looked away. Yet even that small motion couldn't jolt her out of the flush of memories. Memories from thirty years ago.

From another life.

She hadn't known when Helios, her life mate, was taken, of the life growing inside her. They'd agreed shortly after their people were killed that they'd take every precaution against conception. They would not subject another life to the torment of always being on the run. Always looking over their shoulder. Always living in fear.

It was not until her stomach began swelling with child that she knew. And she was terrified.

Kenna knew she could never be a mother. Never hold the babe in her arms or sing her to sleep. Never watch them take their first steps or say their first words.

The birth was painful. Hours spent laboring alone in the back of an abandoned barn until she watched as her daughter—as Helios's daughter—slipped into the world with a soft cry.

As Kenna held the tiny child in her arms, she sobbed. Pain was sharp as a knife in her chest, as final as the ax against an executioner's block.

She cried for a tiny, red-haired girl, and the future she'd never have, with parents she'd never know. Perhaps that's what hurt the most, knowing the future possibilities laid bare before her, and knowing they could never be hers.

Kenna would never watch that girl grow up. Never watch her laugh or smile. Never see the kind of woman she'd grow up to be. Because Kenna would never subject her daughter, one of the last of her kind, to the life she lived. If the man who took Helios knew of the girl's existence, he'd stop at nothing to find her. He would stop at nothing until their kind was wiped from the earth.

So, Kenna gave her a name, uttered only once in the howling wind and forever locked away in the heart of a grieving mother, and left her on the doorstep of a young family, far away from the clutches of the Nuhan Kingdom. She watched from the shadows as a boy opened the door, finding the babe in a basket, and called for his mother. She watched as the man searched the area for any sign of the child's parents. She watched as the woman cradled the newborn child to her chest.

And she watched as the door closed on her heart forever. As the last string of her heart snapped in two.

In rare moments when the lovers and adrenaline and perpetual numbness couldn't keep the pain away, Kenna would dream of a girl with hair as vibrant as flames. A girl who had her father's smile and habit for trouble. A girl who was brave and kind and wild and free.

A girl like Evelyn.

Cursing the fates for reminding her of her daughter at this moment, Kenna stood on shaking legs. She couldn't dwell in pity, not when she was so close to finally getting her revenge. Grief could have no place in a heart as cold and dead as hers.

"You'll not die today," Kenna crouched in front of Evelyn, letting flames lick up her arms.

Grabbing one of Evelyn's cold, clammy wrists, Kenna sent the orange fire up Evelyn's body. Let her endless life give another a second chance. Steam rolled off Evelyn's skin as she dried. When Kenna's flames met Evelyn's hair, it ignited, so hot and fast and bright she had to turn away.

When Kenna sat back, Evelyn stared at her with wide eyes. "Thank you."

"Don't expect me to do that again. My debt to you is repaid." Kenna swiped a hand across her face, wiping away the last of her grief, and turned her back on the fire genasi. "If you're staying, be sure to keep up.""You can come out. I know you're following me." Kenna didn't bother looking behind her. Instead, she waited until the faint footsteps became louder and the girl with flaming hair finally appeared beside her.

"Hi," the girl said, looking as though the greeting took all the courage she possessed to get out.

Kenna raised an elegant eyebrow. "Can I help you with something?"

"Can I go with you?"

Kenna scoffed and shook her head. "I threatened to kill you not two hours ago and now you want to come with me?"

"Well, I figured it might be easier to navigate this maze together."

"I don't need help." Kenna resumed her trek into the dungeon, marking her path on the bricks as she went. The footsteps behind her didn't cease.

With a resigned sigh, Kenna glanced back at the girl. "I'm not going to save you if things go wrong."

"That's okay," the girl nodded. "No one ever does."

Had she been a kinder, softer person, Kenna might've cried at the response. Cried for the girl and her heartbreak and her loneliness. But she was not that kind of person, not anymore. The king had made sure of that when he took everything from her. Sympathy was a luxury for the privileged. It had no place in her heart.

It was sometime later, after the women found themselves face to face with a hoard of rats, that the girl spoke again. "I'm Evelyn, by the way."

"Did I ask?" Kenna scanned the fork in the hallway, wrinkling her nose as something putrid drifted down one path. The ball of fire floated down the path, illuminating nothing but more brick walls.

"I thought maybe you'd want to know."

Kenna heard a growl and a cry from the stinking fork and decided against the path. Whoever was down there would either clear the way for her later or die trying. Their death could "Nope."

"Okay."

Okay. Not 'why not?' Not 'how rude.' Just okay. At least the journey together would be a quiet one.

They spent the next hour exploring two rooms, each one filled with treasures—and spiders the size of Kenna's face—but what she was looking for. But the third room was an amphitheater. Great stone benches lined the curved edge, all facing a deep blue circle against the middle of the back wall. Candles floated in the air, illuminating the space with a hauntingly warm glow.

Along the walls, stone outlines of men were sculpted into the stone. Kenna approached the one closest to the door. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and his eyes were closed. Maybe he was sleeping... no, not sleeping, but caught in the eternal slumber of death.

Kenna spun around, noticing the black robes discarded about the room. What was this place? Nothing good happened here; she could tell that much. But if this room were hiding what she sought, she'd search it high and low.

"This place gives me the creeps," Evelyn said from behind her, her voice timid.

"You are welcome to leave." Kenna took a step down, her foot knocking against something hard a loose. Something that looked alarmingly like a bone.

The candles, death carvings, and black robes all resembled something religious. But no religion she'd heard of met in the depths of the dungeons. As she moved further into the room, the blue circle rippled, its surface moving to a faint breeze—a breeze she couldn't feel for herself. It wasn't a circle; it was a pond.

Kenna peered into the pond, the surface glittering against the thousands of candles. Something moved in the depths, something that glinted against the light. And beyond that, the dark wood of a chest.

The movement caught her eye again and slowly, the head of the creature rose above the surface, liquid raining down on top of them as they scrambled back. The creature's long and narrow body was covered in scales. But unlike the other monster she'd encountered, this one was a dragon, large teeth poked out of a wide mouth. Two horns twisted off the top of his head. Two red eyes stared at Kenna and Evelyn, unblinking, before sinking back beneath the surface.

Kenna recognized this kind of dragon, but it dwelled in the seas, not in dungeons. How long had it been trapped here?

With a start, Kenna kicked off her boots and began removing her sheath. The dragons were gentle creatures, but captivity made devils out of angels. She'd have to be careful down there.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get that chest." Kenna tossed her sword aside and began removing her leather armor.

"Did you not see that thing?"

"Dragon," Kenna corrected. "Not thing."

"I'm sure there are other chests out there."

"Not ones guarded by dragons." Without waiting for a response, Kenna took a deep breath, approached the edge with her sword in hand, and dove into the pond.

The moment her body hit the frigid liquid, the dragon turned its enormous eyes on her. And its mouth opened wide.

There was no warning before it shot forward and Kenna had mere seconds to swim out of the way.

If there were a way to avoid hurting the dragon, she would. It was no more a prisoner of circumstance than she. Fate was a cruel and fickle mistress to sinners and saints alike.

The dragon swung around, red eyes watching her move before diving at her once more.

Kenna shot upward, breaching the surface and sucking in a long breath before diving into the pond once more. She needed it to stop, to hear her.

Kenna held out a hand as the dragon turned back toward her, approaching her slowly. She let the fire burning within her warm her skin, illuminating her face. I'm like you, she wanted to say. I'm as old as you. As broken as you. See me, as I see you.

The dragon stopped short, head tilting to watch her. Kenna let her fire grow until her skin took on a golden shine. When the dragon didn't move, Kenna swam forward. Let me help you, she thought.

The dragon bowed its head as Kenna approached and allowed her to press a glowing hand to its forehead.

Images flashed through her mind. Images of death and destruction and sorrow and loss. She saw the dragon stolen from its home as a child. Saw its terror as it was dumped into the pond and worshiped like a deity. Worshipped, but kept a prisoner.

And when Kenna saw it all, she shared her story, images tearing from her mind into the dragon's head. She shared her life in the mountains before the war, before the conquering king took everything from her. And she bared her soul.

Perhaps the two were kindred spirits, stolen from a life they could've lived. Should've lived.

And when she was done, the dragon bowed its head and moved aside. Kenna let her light die, and dove for the chest, casting her sword aside to lift the box.

But then the dragon let out a screech. Kenna glanced up, watching in horror as her sword stuck fast in its tail.

Oh no.

It lashed out, knocking the chest out of Kenna's grasp and the air out of her lungs. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Her lungs quickly filled, and spots lined her vision.

Even as the dragon thrashed, Kenna started back up. She needed air soon, or she'd lose consciousness, trapped forever in a space between life and death.

The dragon's tail flicked back around, slamming Kenna into the wall.

Pain exploded from her back, her lungs, her limbs. And she was helpless against it. Kenna's body went limp, and she sunk down, down, down.

Through her haze, Kenna saw a flickering light. Heard another screech. And felt something tug on her arm.

The next thing she knew, Kenna was coughing and spluttering, spilling the contents of her lungs on the floor of the amphitheater.

Evelyn stood in front of her, arms wrapped around her torso, shaking like a leaf in the wind. The wooden chest was open on its side, a damp scroll spilling from its depths, and her sword lay on the ground not far away.

All that for another damned scroll? Kenna cursed under her breath before a small cough caught her attention. "Why are your flames flickering like that?" Kenna croaked, throat still sore.

"Because I'm burning out. Moisture and I don't mix."

"What do you mean 'burning out'?"

Evelyn coughed again and sunk to her knees, shivering. Her skin steamed and her hair fizzled in and out. "I'm dying."

"Why would you jump in the pond if you knew you would die?"

"Because you were dying."

Kenna looked at Evelyn with fresh eyes. The timid, cowering girl was dripping wet, her hair flickering in and out. She was alive, but for how long? Why would she do that? Sacrifice herself for someone she barely knew, let alone someone who threatened to murder her?

Why would Evelyn save Kenna? Kenna, who couldn't die. Kenna, who was rude and crass and a despicable excuse for a soul. It didn't make sense.

This young woman was selfless. Brave. Kind.

Tears pricked at Kenna's eyes unbidden, and she looked away. Yet even that small motion couldn't jolt her out of the flush of memories. Memories from thirty years ago.

From another life.

She hadn't known when Helios, her life mate, was taken, of the life growing inside her. They'd agreed shortly after their people were killed that they'd take every precaution against conception. They would not subject another life to the torment of always being on the run. Always looking over their shoulder. Always living in fear.

It was not until her stomach began swelling with child that she knew. And she was terrified.

Kenna knew she could never be a mother. Never hold the babe in her arms or sing her to sleep. Never watch them take their first steps or say their first words.

The birth was painful. Hours spent laboring alone in the back of an abandoned barn until she watched as her daughter—as Helios's daughter—slipped into the world with a soft cry.

As Kenna held the tiny child in her arms, she sobbed. Pain was sharp as a knife in her chest, as final as the ax against an executioner's block.

She cried for a tiny, red-haired girl, and the future she'd never have, with parents she'd never know. Perhaps that's what hurt the most, knowing the future possibilities laid bare before her, and knowing they could never be hers.

Kenna would never watch that girl grow up. Never watch her laugh or smile. Never see the kind of woman she'd grow up to be. Because Kenna would never subject her daughter, one of the last of her kind, to the life she lived. If the man who took Helios knew of the girl's existence, he'd stop at nothing to find her. He would stop at nothing until their kind was wiped from the earth.

So, Kenna gave her a name, uttered only once in the howling wind and forever locked away in the heart of a grieving mother, and left her on the doorstep of a young family, far away from the clutches of the Nuhan Kingdom. She watched from the shadows as a boy opened the door, finding the babe in a basket, and called for his mother. She watched as the man searched the area for any sign of the child's parents. She watched as the woman cradled the newborn child to her chest.

And she watched as the door closed on her heart forever. As the last string of her heart snapped in two.

In rare moments when the lovers and adrenaline and perpetual numbness couldn't keep the pain away, Kenna would dream of a girl with hair as vibrant as flames. A girl who had her father's smile and habit for trouble. A girl who was brave and kind and wild and free.

A girl like Evelyn.

Cursing the fates for reminding her of her daughter at this moment, Kenna stood on shaking legs. She couldn't dwell in pity, not when she was so close to finally getting her revenge. Grief could have no place in a heart as cold and dead as hers.

"You'll not die today," Kenna crouched in front of Evelyn, letting flames lick up her arms.

Grabbing one of Evelyn's cold, clammy wrists, Kenna sent the orange fire up Evelyn's body. Let her endless life give another a second chance. Steam rolled off Evelyn's skin as she dried. When Kenna's flames met Evelyn's hair, it ignited, so hot and fast and bright she had to turn away.

When Kenna sat back, Evelyn stared at her with wide eyes. "Thank you."

"Don't expect me to do that again. My debt to you is repaid." Kenna swiped a hand across her face, wiping away the last of her grief, and turned her back on the fire genasi. "If you're staying, be sure to keep up."