Something Brave Before I Die

Theon blinked, unable to believe his eyes.

Is this really happening right now?

An image, clear as day, was fresh in his mind:

[Activate Bond]

[Tamer: Human]

[Beast: Water Dragon]

[Beast Rank: S]

[Cultivation Rank: D]

[Species: Hyralis]

[Activate Bond By Giving the Beast a Name:]

Theon still couldn't wrap his head around it. The same blue dragon that had attacked them upon arrival wanted to form a bond with him.

What should I name him? He examined the dragon's scales, which looked more like those of a fish than a dragon.

Theon chuckled at the thought. He was on cloud nine. How could he not be? He was getting the opportunity to tame a dragon—one that was powerful, no less.

I think I've got the perfect name for you:

"Aquarax!"

ROAR!!

The dragon let out a small roar, seemingly in approval, and rubbed its massive scaly head against Theon. With that, an unbreakable link was formed between them. Their minds and hearts were partially connected as one.

…

Meanwhile, Sigurd and Arya had walked for hours without finding any dragon willing to form a bond with them. Eventually, they collapsed beside each other in sheer exhaustion.

"Most of the others must be dead by now," Sigurd said.

Arya frowned at him. "Why do you always have to be so grim? It's honestly depressing."

"Just stating the truth."

"Whatever…" she muttered, now disinterested in the conversation. But then she noticed what he was holding in his hands. "Why do you still have that old thing?" she asked, pointing to the broken sword still in his grasp.

"A swordsman must always have his sword."

She giggled mockingly. "A broken sword… That's just like you." She stared at his unamused face and her heart began pounding as she remembered something—a strong emotion she always tried to keep hidden. For all she knew this could be their last moment together—would it really matter.

"I'm in love with you, Sigurd."

"Huh? What are you talking about—"

"I hated you at first. The way you never tried to fit in, the way you are always mean to everyone, even your own mother who loves you and you always went off to do things on your own…" She covered her flushed red face. "It's embarrassing, but I watched you for so long that, somewhere down the line, it turned into love."

"Even though you never noticed me, I was always there. Theon knew about it… my obsession, I mean. When he told me that I could be in a group with you, I was so happy that I thought for sure I'd blown my cover, but still, you never noticed."

She removed her hand from her face and, without warning, lunged at him, pinning him to the ground and sitting atop him.

"What are you doing?" Sigurd asked, confused.

"Something brave before I die."

She pressed her lips against his, not considering the force with which she came at him. Their teeth clicked together.

"I'm so sorry! I've never done this before," she said, covering her flushed face. Her chest heaved, almost out of breath. She didn't give him time to reply; with a deep breath, she leaned in again, this time slowly.

After a tender few seconds, their lips parted.

"I want us to be together… forever, if that's possible."

Her words sounded more like a demand than anything else. She released him and created distance between them, curling up in a ball a few feet away.

The whole situation caught him off guard. For the first time, he was speechless. He knew he had to say something.

"I have no experience with romance."

"Because you're a clueless moron! I'm the only idiot stupid enough to fall for you! At least I don't have to worry about any other girl coming near you, because this… this is just pathetic."

What in the world? None of this makes sense.

She seemed like a different person, so unlike the Arya he had spent nearly a month with.

From her trembling voice, he could tell she was crying.

The whole situation left him dumbfounded. It made no sense. In the span of a few minutes, she had confessed her love for him, kissed him, and was now crying about how pathetic he was.

Did the kiss scare her off?

He could hear her silent sobs, yet he was at a loss for what to do or say. After a while of just sitting there, he finally spoke.

"Thank you," Sigurd said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "For liking me."

She lifted her head; her eyes were red, and faint traces of tears remained on her cheeks. She inspected his face closely, the same face she was used to staring at from afar. Then a smile spread across her face—a smile that seemed to light up the entire room.

"I didn't say I liked you. I said I love you, Sigurd."

ROAR!!!

The roar left no time for reaction. Before he knew it, the spot where she sat was engulfed in flames so intense that he felt as if his skin was melting off just from being close to her.

"Arya!!"

His shouts were lost in the cackling of flames.

Looking at the spot where Arya once sat covered in flames, he felt an unfamiliar ache in his chest.

What the hell am I doing? 

Why do I even care? 

She's just one girl, like many others. 

They're annoying creatures. 

So why is my hands trembling? 

Get a grip Sigurd!

ROAR!!

By the time the dragon was finished, nothing remained of her—just a mountain of ashes. She was gone, as if she had never existed in the first place.

The beast responsible was all too familiar. It was the same grey dragon that had attacked them before, and it set its sights on Sigurd.

With his broken weapon in hand, Sigurd pried his eyes away from what remained of Arya and stared intently at the beast. The massive creature flashed its teeth, growling and hissing as it circled around him.

Sigurd gripped his broken sword, ready to fight the beast head-on.

The dragon lunged at him, but mere seconds before it made contact, it was intercepted by a black dragon.

This dragon had scales so dark that he couldn't distinguish it from the obsidian surroundings. The two dragons growled at each other.

They were roughly the same size, but something strange happened: the grey dragon seemed to cower before the black dragon, which had a face as cute as a puppy's.

The black dragon struck Sigurd as odd. It had deep purple eyes and appeared to be acting like a playful puppy. While the grey dragon growled and flashed its teeth, the black dragon seemed to be enjoying itself, toying with the grey dragon and ripping off its flesh as if it were playing a game.

The black dragon's movements were erratic and fast; even Sigurd had a hard time predicting them. The more the grey dragon growled in pain, the more the black dragon seemed to revel in the carnage, wagging its tail.

It ripped off chunks of flesh as if they were nothing, breaking the grey dragon's scales as if they were glass, all while having the time of its life.

It continued its relentless assault until the grey dragon collapsed, after having most all its limbs ripped off. Just when Sigurd thought it was over, the black dragon unleashed a fiery explosion of purple flames, even hotter than those the grey dragon had used before. The grey dragon was reduced to ash within seconds.

Then the black dragon turned its attention to Sigurd. He realized that his shamanic bond wasn't working, indicating that the dragon didn't want to form a bond with him. He could tell by the predatory glint in its eyes, the same look it had given the grey dragon.

Fighting wasn't an option; he knew that. So, he decided to do what he did best.

He ran.

As fast as his legs could carry him.