Page 17

Nirrn

Nirrn slithered silently across the grimy pavement as he and the human scout traveled through the winding alleys of Jorvla’s outer district. The stench of decay and desperation hung thick in the air, but he barely noticed it. His focus remained razor-sharp on one goal: getting to Islae.

The scout led him to a crumbling warehouse where a group of human rogues lounged against rusted shipping containers. Their eyes narrowed at his approach, their hands tightening on concealed weapons.

“A Niri seeking us out? That’s new,” a scarred man said, stepping forward. “Either brave or stupid.”

Nirrn drew himself up to his full height, his orange scales glinting off the light filtering in through the broken windows.

“I have a proposition for you. Medical supplies from the government district stronghold—enough to set you up for months on the black market. All yours if you help me get inside.”

“And why would a Niri want to break into a Jorvlen stronghold?” A tall man with close-cropped hair circled him, studying his healer’s markings. “Especially a healer?”

“My reasons are my own.” His eyes tracked the human rogue’s movement, his voice lowering into a growl. “The supplies are real. That’s all you need to know.”

The human rogues exchanged glances, having a silent conversation. The scarred man stepped closer, his chin lifted in challenge. “Prove you’re not setting us up. Prove you’re a real warrior.”

Nirrn’s tail coiled tighter, his muscles tensing. He had spent his life healing, not fighting. But Islae’s face suddenly flashed in his mind, driving out all hesitation. “Whatever test you require.”

A slow smile spread across the scarred man’s face. “Follow us then, Niri. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

His scales bristled with anticipation as they led him deeper into the warehouse shadows.

The healer in him whispered doubts, but he silenced it.

For Islae, he would become whatever was necessary.

His hands flexed, remembering the softness of her skin and the trust in her eyes as she lay in his arms.

“I hope you’re ready,” the scarred man called back. “This won’t be gentle.”

Nirrn’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “Neither will I.”

The stale air grew thicker as they descended into the warehouse basement.

Nirrn’s scales scraped against rough concrete and the metallic tang of old blood grew stronger with each step.

The scarred human rogue’s footsteps echoed ahead of him, leading him deeper into what could only be described as a makeshift arena.

Crude spotlights illuminated a circular fighting pit. The walls, stained with various shades of both human and Niri blood, told stories of countless brutal matches. Around the rim, humans pressed against chain-link fencing, their hungry eyes fixed on him.

“Your opponent.” The scarred human rogue gestured to a massive blue-scaled Niri warrior who uncoiled from the shadows.

The Niri warrior’s battle scars created intricate patterns across his scales, each one a testament to victories Nirrn had never sought. As a healer, Nirrn had treated similar wounds countless times. Now he’d be on the other end of them.

“Last chance to back out, healer,” the Niri warrior sneered, flexing his heavily muscled arms. “Go back to your clinic where you belong.”

Islae’s face flashed through Nirrn’s mind again. His golden eyes narrowed. “I belong wherever I choose.”

The Niri warrior lunged forward and struck first, his tail whipping out like a steel cable. Nirrn barely managed to dodge, his healer’s instincts shouting at him to retreat. But retreat meant losing his chance to save Islae.

Pain exploded across his jaw as the Niri warrior’s fist connected. Nirrn tasted blood, his vision blurring slightly. He tried to counter, but his movements were too measured, too precise—a healer’s movements, not a fighter’s.

“Pathetic,” the Niri warrior spat, landing another crushing blow to Nirrn’s ribs. “You think you can protect anyone like this?”

The words hit harder than the punch. Nirrn’s orange scales stood on edge as rage coursed through him. His tail lashed out instinctively, but the Niri warrior caught it, using Nirrn’s momentum to slam him against the wall.

“Stay down,” the Niri warrior hissed.

Blood dripped from Nirrn’s split lip as he pushed himself up. “No.” His voice was a dangerous growl. “She needs me.”

The Niri warrior circled him, clearly enjoying his dominance. “Your mate? Is that what this is all about?” He let out a harsh laugh. “She’ll die waiting for you, healer.”

Something snapped inside Nirrn. His carefully maintained and measured control shattered, replaced by a blind primal fury he’d never known could exist in him.

His golden eyes blazed as he faced his opponent, no longer thinking like a healer in battle, but something far more dangerous—a Niri fighting for his mate’s life.

Nirrn’s tail whipped through the air with devastating force, catching the blue-scaled Niri warrior across the chest. His opponent stumbled back, shock registering in his eyes at the sudden display of raw power.

Years of precise and controlled movements dissolved into pure instinct as Nirrn struck again and again, his orange scales bristling with primal rage.

The Niri warrior tried to counter, but Nirrn caught his arm and yanked him forward, slamming his opponent face-first into the concrete wall. The impact cracked the surface, sending dust and debris raining down. Blood splattered across Nirrn’s knuckles as he delivered another crushing blow.

“She’s mine to protect,” Nirrn snarled, his voice unrecognizable to himself. His eyes blazed with an intensity that made the watching humans step back from the chain-link fence.

The Niri warrior spat blood and launched himself at Nirrn, managing to land a hit that sent them both crashing to the ground.

They grappled, tails intertwined, scales scraping against concrete as they fought for dominance.

Nirrn felt ribs crack under his fist, heard the wet snap of bone, but he didn’t stop.

His body moved with a savage grace he’d never known he possessed—every strike precise but lethal, every movement calculated for maximum damage. The healer in him recognized exactly where to hit to cause the most pain, and for once, he used that knowledge without mercy.

The final blow came as Nirrn wrapped his powerful tail around the Niri warrior’s throat, squeezing until his opponent’s struggles weakened. He released just before unconsciousness claimed his rival, letting the blue-scaled body slump to the ground.

Nirrn towered over his fallen opponent, his chest heaving and blood dripping from his split knuckles onto the concrete below.

His orange scales gleamed under the harsh lights, some edges torn and bleeding from the brutal fight.

The familiar urge to heal and to mend whispered at the edges of his consciousness, but he pushed it aside.

For the first time, he understood what it meant to be more than just a healer.

The raw power thrumming through his veins felt right, natural, as if some dormant part of him had finally awakened.

Every breath was filled with Islae’s image.

Every heartbeat echoed with the need to find her and protect what was his.

The humans pressed against the fence remained silent, their earlier bloodlust replaced by a wary respect. None dared approach yet as Nirrn stood guard over his victory, his golden eyes still burning with unleashed fury.

Nirrn finally turned and slithered out of the fighting pit, his orange scales covered in his and the Niri warrior’s blood. He approached the scarred human rogue who took an instinctive step back. The primal energy still coursed through Nirrn’s veins, making his movements fluid and predatory.

“Well?” Nirrn rumbled low. The taste of copper lingered in his mouth from his split lip.

The scarred man cleared his throat. “I’ve seen a lot of fights in that pit. Never seen anything like that.” He gestured to where the blue-scaled Niri warrior was being carried away. “Especially not from a healer.”

“You have your answer then.” Nirrn’s eyes fixed on the human, unblinking. “Do we have a deal?”

A few other fighters had gathered around them—both human rogues and Niri warriors drawn by the spectacle. Their whispered conversations fell silent as they watched the exchange.

The scarred man studied Nirrn’s face. “Whatever you’re fighting for must be worth dying for.”

“It is.” The image of Islae’s radiant smile burned in Nirrn’s mind.

“Count me in,” a voice called out. A heavily muscled Niri warrior with battle-scarred green scales stepped forward. “Anyone who fights like that has my respect.”

Others voiced their agreement, forming a loose circle around Nirrn. The scarred man nodded slowly. “All right. We’ll help you get into that stronghold. But first, let’s talk about strategy.”

Nirrn’s tail coiled with barely contained energy as they moved to a planning area with his map of the Jorvlen stronghold. Every second spent here was another second Islae remained in danger. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He would need these allies to reach her.

“The stronghold has three entry points,” the scarred man began, spreading out the crude map.

Nirrn leaned forward, his eyes scanning the layout. His healer’s precision merged with his newfound warrior’s instinct, analyzing every detail of the stronghold. He would tear that place apart piece by piece if he had to.

Hold on, Islae, he thought. I’m coming for you.