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The white dragon charged with an earth-shaking roar and chaos erupted. Cinder cast a rapid spell and vanished a split second before the dragon’s bite attack would have closed around them; Deria’s sunblade was unsheathed, shining bright light all around as she lifted it up; and brave Zada looked unafraid as she hefted her hammer into the air and storm clouds began to gather overhead.
Silver had never been so afraid in her life. It was pure adrenaline that kept her upright and moving, and her drive to protect the others that kept her from dropping prone and weeping with terror. Her mind moved as fast as Zada’s lightning as she assessed the combat and saw what she needed to do.
She summoned all her courage and cast polymorph on herself, taking on the huge, mossy form of a rock golem. She slammed her boulder fists into the snow and roared a challenge to the dragon, drawing its attention in hopes of saving her friends.
The dragon’s hits felt like thunderclaps, like they could break the earth, but Zada was answering with all the fury and power of a raging storm, and Deria’s wings lifted her into the air so that she could strike at the white scales again and again. Twice Silver was knocked out of her spell as teeth and claw raked at her. Both times she got up, bleeding but determined as she recast her spell.
She held on as long as she could, giving Zada and Deria a chance to stay standing, giving Cinder the time that they needed to nullify the totem. But as the white dragon bit down on the arm of her golem form and wrenched it free from her body, the pain shattered her concentration for the last time. She fell to the snow as herself, hitting hard. She tried to scramble out of the way, but the dragon’s tail was faster than she was, and his hit was critically unlucky for Silver.
Time slowed. She distantly felt bones break from the impact of the blow, felt herself fly through the air. Then she dropped, head cracking against a stone, and felt nothing at all.
She was standing in a vast field. The sky above her was the familiar twilit sky of her home. The grass at her feet waved in the cool wind that swept back her hair. She couldn’t hear anything but the rhythmic rushing of the wind. It was peaceful, but she was not at peace.
And then there were three cairns before her, in the shape of archways that looked ancient and worn. Within each arch she saw the figure of a person she knew, shadowy and indistinct. Within the left arch she saw Bryn, her bow raised and a knocked arrow pointed at Silver's heart. Within the right arch she saw Zada, her cloak billowing in a wind, her hand extended in invitation. And within the centre arch was the figure it took her the longest to recognize.
It was herself, naked except for a long garland of white flowers around her neck and a crown of ivy in her hair. In her left hand she held a flaming blade, and in her right a chalice of water. Her eyes were the dark, wild eyes of an animal, and around her mouth was wet with blood.
Silver came back to consciousness to the sound of Zada’s primal cry and the wave of energy that emanated from the cleric, healing everyone in the vicinity and returning Silver from that place between life and death.
As she gained awareness, feeling her broken bones snap into aching wholeness and the claw wounds across her side begin to knit closed with the surge of healing magic, she found herself prone with the dragon directly overhead. It was thrashing and roaring in pain and absolute anger as it fought for its life. Silver was frozen in fear, but before she could even try to get up an explosion of Cinder’s tell-tale fire engulfed the dragon.
And once again, she got to her feet. The battle raged on. Zada and Silver channeling the storm, calling down lightning with perfectly synced motions; Deria's sunblade flashing again and again; one last fireball from Cinder to end it. Silver turned her face away from the blast, a wave of heat and sparks hitting her even as the wizard protected their party members from the full force of the spell. When the roar of flames died down the dragon was still and the night air was very quiet.
Silver looked around to make sure that everyone was conscious and alive, then collapsed down in the snow from exhaustion and the sick rush of too much adrenaline. She let herself have a moment before trying to get up again, to process what had just happened. Against the odds, they had done it. The third totem was destroyed and Zada had saved her life. They would all live, for now.
She stood slowly and made her way over to where Zada was at the head of the dragon, already preparing to cast speak with dead. Silver quietly healed herself, and then Zada with a touch, and listened as the party argued over the next course of action. As Zada began asking her questions of the scorched corpse she tried to focus on the task at hand, but it was difficult, as utterly drained as she was.
Silver knew that when she closed her eyes tonight she would see the dragon. In quiet moments she would hear his deafening roar and relive the snap of her bones for years. What she didn’t expect was how the vision dream that she had been granted would haunt her in the days to come. It was a truth she would not—could not—yet acknowledge, but now that she carried it inside of her there was no escaping it.
One thing at a time, she reminded herself. Like Bryn used to say, in the before. One thing at a time.