An alternate career

The forest seemed to hold its breath. No wind stirred the fire-colored leaves of Ashbriar Glade, and no birds dared to sing.

The oppressive quiet was broken only by the steady beat of wings above, circling closer with each pass. Riku Beastbane crouched low, his scarred face a mask of focus. His hand hovered near the empty sheath at his belt, fingers itching.

“Bigpaw,” Riku said, his voice low and firm. “Weapon.”

From behind a moss-covered log, Bigpaw emerged, the massive blade known as Scalebreaker balanced across his broad shoulders. The greatsword, larger than Riku himself, gleamed in the filtered light, its edge as sharp as dragon’s teeth. With a grunt, Bigpaw shifted the weapon and, with his free paw, tossed a spear in a graceful arc toward Riku. Riku caught it mid-air, gripping the weapon tightly as he rose to his feet.

“You know,” Bigpaw said, setting Scalebreaker down beside him with a thud, “we could’ve been librarians. No wyverns. No lizards trying to kill us. Just nice, quiet scrolls.”

Riku caught the shadow of the wyvern overhead and adjusted his grip on the spear. “We’d be terrible librarians.”

Bigpaw snorted. “You’d be terrible. I’d be amazing. Have you seen my organizational skills?”

The screech came before the attack. A crimson-scaled wyvern dove through the canopy, talons outstretched, its molten eyes locked on Riku. He waited for the last possible moment before hurling the spear. The projectile struck true, embedding itself just under the creature’s foreleg. The wyvern faltered, its wings folding awkwardly as it tumbled to the ground in a spray of dirt and broken branches.

It wasn’t finished. The beast lashed its tail and hissed, struggling to rise despite the wound. Riku strode forward, his focus unbroken. He extended a hand. “Scalebreaker.”

Bigpaw sighed, hoisting the massive sword before giving it a calculated toss toward Riku.

The Aiyani caught it with both hands, the sheer size of the blade forcing him to adjust his stance. Scalebreaker hummed with power, its weight challenging his lean, agile frame. Riku didn’t falter, moving with purpose as he closed the distance between himself and the wyvern. The first swing severed the beast’s wing, sending a spray of blood across the clearing. The second strike was final, cleaving through its neck with a crack that echoed through the silent forest.

As the creature collapsed, Riku stood over it, breathing heavily. Without ceremony, he dropped Scalebreaker onto the blood-soaked ground, the blade’s weight sending up a small tremor.

Bigpaw ambled over, his paw brushing against the fallen wyvern’s snout. “Messy,” he said, inspecting the kill. “But effective.” He grabbed Scalebreaker with a grunt, wiping its edge clean with a rag before hefting it back onto his shoulder. “You could at least pretend to care about this thing. I’m the one lugging it around.”

Riku crouched beside the wyvern, prying a scale loose and holding it to the light. “Too soft,” he muttered. “Won’t hold up in a real fight.”

Bigpaw tilted his head, his ears flicking in irritation. “A wyvern isn’t a real fight now?”

Riku tossed the scale aside and stood, brushing dirt from his hands. “Not compared to what’s out there. This?” He nudged the wyvern’s lifeless body with his boot. “This is practice. Warm-up. Something to keep me sharp.”

Bigpaw leaned Scalebreaker against his shoulder and folded his arms, his expression skeptical. “You want to hunt something tougher than a fire-breathing lizard with claws the size of my face? Sure, that sounds perfectly reasonable.”

Riku smirked, wiping blood from his jaw. “What’s the point of being the best if you don’t prove it?”

Bigpaw grunted, shifting his weight with a casual roll of his shoulders, his stubby tail barely twitching as he watched Riku.“Right. And that scar on your face? Was that from ‘proving it’ or just poor life choices?”

“Poor life choices,” Riku admitted with a chuckle. Then his gaze shifted, drawn toward the horizon where Kazyr’s molten peaks burned against the sky. His voice dropped, quieter but no less firm. “But sometimes the bad choices are the ones worth making.”

Bigpaw followed his line of sight, the humor fading from his face as he realized where Riku’s thoughts had gone.

“I’m going,” Riku declared, his voice as unyielding as the blade he had just wielded.

Bigpaw’s ears twitched, a subtle but telling gesture. “To Kazyr? You’re serious?”

Riku rose to his full height, his shadow stretching long against the crimson glow of the distant volcanic peaks. “Dragonbone weapons. Armor impervious to fire. The greatest treasures of all. It’s the ultimate hunt.” He gestured toward the horizon, where the molten heart of Kazyr pulsed like a living thing. “And you think I’d just walk away from that?”

Bigpaw adjusted his grip on Scalebreaker, the sword’s sheer size an ever-present reminder of his role in this partnership. He let out a long sigh, somewhere between frustration and resignation. “I’ve heard the stories, Riku. Dragons don’t just kill. They turn people into smoldering piles of ash, and that’s if they’re feeling polite. That place eats fools alive.”

“Good thing I’m no fool,” Riku said, a grin tugging at the corner of his scarred face.

Bigpaw gave him a flat look, his ears twitching slightly in place of a more animated response. “That’s debatable.” He reached over his shoulder to the rack strapped to his back, selecting a fresh spear with practiced ease. Handing it to Riku, he shook his head. “Fine. But when this goes sideways - and it will - I’m charging double for hauling your ridiculous blade out of there.”

“Deal,” Riku said, spinning the spear experimentally before slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s see what Kazyr’s dragons are made of.”

As the two set off, the fiery peaks loomed larger with each step. Riku walked with the easy confidence of an Aiyani who’d already decided he would conquer whatever awaited him, while Bigpaw trudged behind, muttering to himself.

“Librarians,” he grumbled. “We could’ve been librarians.”