As Christian and I separated at school that afternoon, I had a feeling of impending doom. Unlike all my friends, my mother never discounted my feelings. Not because she was crazy, though everyone else would have thought she was if they heard some of our discussions over dinner.

  No, it was because she was a true dragon and a fairly powerful one at that. Not that that made me a dragon. My father wasn’t a dragon, after all. He had been a powerful magician. One that had managed to capture my mother’s heart.

  He had died soon after my birth to give us time to flee from the dragons hunting me and my mixed magic. Casting a powerful spell, my mother teleported us to a tiny, out-of-the-way pnet. A pnet so devoid of magic that it had faded into myths and legends.

  There, she raised me. There, I met my best friend and future partner, Christian. Repeatedly, my mother told me that did not mean we would end up together. It just meant that we would likely end up being great friends and having each other's back in any situation.

  She also cast a gesh on me to keep me from telling him anything about my family. More specifically, to keep me from spilling the truth to anyone who didn’t already know about magic. When he had shown up at our door, he looked battered and angry.

  I thought his parents had finally done something that would push him over the edge. Push him away from them. Part of me was excited at the prospect, willing to beg my mother to let him stay. To slowly pull him into my world. Another part of me, the more practical part, was certain that he would regret not spending time with his parents while he could.

  Unfortunately for the both of us, the practical part of me won the brief internal struggle. That resolve was the only thing that kept me from exploding as he recounted the events of the evening. At the end, I let a string of curses out. What can I say? I was angry. Not like it would change what I was about to tell him. Only I didn’t get the chance.

  Someone rang the doorbell, and my mother answered it. The instant she did, a faint whiff of blood entered the air. A moment ter, my mother screamed out in rage. Body reacting instantly, I moved to run to her. Fighting my way through the waves of mana that rippled across the air. Vibrating the floor and walls as the waves smmed into them.

  With a solid crack, the mana froze before twisting. Not in any of the three directions I was used to, but in a different direction, an alien direction. Even without a memory of the event, my mother's descriptions were enough to tell me what she was doing.

  Almost as soon as it had started, everything calmed down. The mana stilled, fading into the background. My mother y across the entryway. Her arms were covered in scales, and her fingers were tipped with cws. I flew down the stairs and to my mother's side. Sticking out of her left breast was a sword. The thing shone a brilliant silver so bright that it stung to look at.

  While I didn’t know what to do, I did somehow know I could not touch the sword. If I did, we would both die. As it was, the wound smelled like it was burning. “What the…” Christian called from the top of the stairs.

  Looking up at him, I pleaded, “Help her.”

  His eyes traced down my mother’s body before returning to the sword. Taking a close look at it, he asked, “Why is my mother’s bde in your mother’s chest?”

  At that moment, it felt like I could have heard a pin drop from across the room. Even my mother had stopped her wet breathing to gnce over at him.