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Chapter Thirty-Five

Flavius

     I'm stirred awake by a beating roar of thunder, and the pounding of rain against my window. Slowly, I sit up, rubbing the sleepiness from my eyes. Tossing my woolen blankets to the side, I set my feet on the cold wooden floor. Grabbing my boots from where they sit next to my bed, I slip them on.

    While I'm getting ready to leave, I can't help the worry that pulses through my veins like fiery venom. Having never learned how to fight, I have to wonder if I'll even be any good. I know that physically I am strong, working as a blacksmith most of my life has gained me immense physical power. But what good will I be fighting against dragons? A human could never face the full wrath of a dragon head-on. The only humans I’ve heard of taking on supernatural's are humans with magical bloodlines but since the Fires of Alira, the magical bloodlines have dwindled in number.

    After pulling my disheveled c
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