Fei He staggered out of the ash‑filled crack, his left arm hanging limp, blood slick on his cheek, and his breath a ragged rasp that barely made it past his throat. The night sky above the ruined courtyard was a bruised violet, and the moon's thin crescent seemed to watch, indifferent, as the massive drake's roar still echoed in the distance. He could feel the heat of his own fire still flickering inside, but it was a dying ember, not the roaring blaze he'd once commanded.
He pressed his right hand to the cold stone, feeling the faint tremor of the drake's massive steps as it searched for him. The creature's scales glowed with an inner, molten light, and its eyes—now a swirl of amber and black—scanned the shadows for any sign of movement. Fei He knew he had only one chance left: a final, desperate strike with every ounce of power he could summon, even if it meant using his last breath.
He forced himself to his knees, ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder and leg. He whispered the words of a spell he'd never dared to use before, a technique he'd only read about in the margins of the _Book of Magic_: *Final Flare*. It was a forbidden art, one that burned the caster's life force into a single, blinding burst of fire, leaving nothing but ash behind. He could feel the heat building in his core, a pressure that threatened to burst his ribs.
With a guttural shout, Fei He thrust his right palm forward. A torrent of white‑hot flame erupted, so intense it turned the night into day for a heartbeat. The fire surged toward the drake, striking its chest with a crack that sounded like thunder. The creature's scales cracked, and for a moment, the drake's eyes widened in shock. The heat seared its flesh, and a howl of agony ripped through the courtyard, shaking loose stones from the broken pillars.
But the cost was immediate. As the flame left his hand, Fei He felt his own energy drain, his vision tunnel, and a coldness spread from his fingertips to his heart. His breath caught, and he could no longer draw air; his lungs felt as if they were filled with ash. He tried to speak, to call out for help, but only a whisper escaped his lips.
The drake, wounded but not yet defeated, staggered back, its massive wings flailing. It turned its head, eyes locking onto Fei He's crumpled form. In that instant, the creature seemed to understand the human's sacrifice. It let out a low, mournful growl and, with a final, trembling beat of its wings, collapsed onto the stone, its body crumbling into a pile of blackened rock and ember.
Fei He's world went dark. He felt himself falling, not just to the ground, but into a void where heat and cold mingled. His last thought was of his mother's lullaby, the rhythm of breath and fire that had guided him from child to master. As his consciousness slipped away, a faint, warm glow surrounded him—perhaps the lingering echo of his own fire, or maybe the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon.
When his eyes finally opened, it was to a sky painted with soft pink and gold, the sun just beginning to rise. He lay on a bed of ash and broken stone, his body bruised and battered, but alive. Beside him, a small, charred feather from the drake's wing lay, a reminder of the battle he had barely survived. He could hear distant voices—human voices—calling out, searching for survivors.
Fei He tried to move, but his limbs were heavy, and his breath came in shallow gasps. He managed to whisper, "I… I'm still here," and a hand, warm and steady, grasped his own. It was a young woman, her eyes wide with awe and fear, holding a simple wooden staff tipped with a faint, blue flame.
"You're alive," she said, voice trembling. "You saved us."
Fei He smiled, a thin, cracked smile, and with that small gesture, he let the world's weight settle on his shoulders. He had fought with his last breath, and though he fainted, he had not died. The fire within him, though dimmed, still flickered, promising that one day he would rise again, stronger, and perhaps, finally, change the balance of power in a world ruled by creatures with senses beyond human comprehension.