“No more. I am done making men my heroes. I shall find other heroes.”

“What about you?” Kyra asked.

Dierdre looked back, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Why look any further than yourself?” Kyra asked. “Can you not be your own hero?”

Dierdre scoffed.

“And why would I?”

“You are a hero to me,” Kyra said. “What you suffered in there—I could not suffer. You survived. More than that—you are back on your feet and thriving even now. That makes you a hero to me.”

Dierdre seemed to contemplate her words as they continued on in the silence.

“And you, Kyra?” Dierdre finally asked. “Tell me something about you.”

Kyra shrugged, wondering.

“What would you like to know?”

Dierdre cleared her throat.

“Tell me of the dragon. What happened back there? I’ve never seen anything like it. Why did he come for you?” She hesitated. “Who are you?”

Kyra was surprised to detect fear in her friend’s voice. She pondered her words, wanting to answer truthfully, and wished she had the answer.

“I don’t know,” she finally answered, truthfully. “I suppose that is what I am going to find out.”

“You don’t know?” Dierdre pressed. “A dragon swoops down from the sky to fight for you, and you don’t know why?”

Kyra thought about how crazy that sounded, yet she could only shake her head. She looked up reflexively at the skies, and between the gnarled branches, despite all hope, she hoped for a sign of Theos.

But saw nothing but gloom. She heard no dragon, and her sense of isolation deepened.

“You know that you are different, don’t you?” Dierdre pressed.

Kyra shrugged, her cheeks burning, feeling self-conscious. She wondered if her friend looked at her as if she were some kind of freak.

“I used to be so sure of everything,” Kyra replied. “But now…I honestly don’t know anymore.”

They continued riding for hours, falling back into a comfortable silence, sometimes trotting when the wood opened up, at other times the wood so dense they needed to dismount and lead their beasts. Kyra felt on edge the entire time, feeling as if they could be attacked at any moment, never able to relax in this forest. She did not know what hurt her more: the cold or the hunger pains ripping through her stomach. Her muscles ached, and she couldn’t feel her lips. She was miserable. She could hardly conceive their quest had barely begun.

After hours more passed, Leo began to whine. It was a strange noise—not his usual whine, but the one he reserved for times when he smelled food. At the same moment Kyra, too, smelled something—and Dierdre turned in the same direction and stared.

Kyra peered through the wood, but saw nothing. As they stopped and listened, she began to hear the faintest sound of activity somewhere up ahead.