I narrowed my eyes, circling just outside his reach. “Who are we speaking about?” I answered in an equally low voice. “Me, or yourself?”
The Patriarch gave a weary chuckle. “I know my soul is damned,” he said tiredly. “I am fully aware that I’ve made a deal with the devil, and the time will come when I must stand before God and answer for my crimes. But I am still the leader of this Order, and I can still eliminate our enemies. One day, I will break free of this contract, but for now, our enemies are dying and will continue to die as long as I am here to oversee it. Every death pushes the devils closer to extinction. That is worth the cost of my soul.”
Abruptly, the Patriarch lunged, sweeping his sword at my head. I leaped back, smacking the blade away, the clang of steel on steel ringing out in the silence. The Patriarch swung again, and I brought my sword up to block, but abruptly he twisted it and came in from another direction. I dodged, but the tip scored my face, right below my eye. Scrambling away, I braced for more attacks, but the Patriarch stopped and lowered his blade, smiling at his handiwork.
“First blood to me,” he said in satisfaction. “I hope you prayed before you came here, soldier.”
I took a steadying breath, weighing my options. That he was playing with me was troubling; he obviously knew more about swordplay than I did and was content to stretch this duel out for as long as he could. Or until I made a fatal mistake. I could feel blood trickling down my face and resisted the urge to wipe it away, keeping my attention on my opponent. I couldn’t banter with him. The longer we sparred, the smaller my chances of victory became. If I was going to beat the Patriarch, I had to do it now.
I lunged savagely, cutting at his face, making him blink and step back to avoid it. Quickly, I pressed that small advantage with an upward slice that made him retreat another step. I pursued him across the field with a series of slashes and cuts, intending to overwhelm him and give him no chance to recover.
The Patriarch smiled. Parrying a slash, he sidestepped with the motion, appearing behind me in a blindingly quick move, and brought his weapon slicing across my back. I felt the bite of the sword edge rip through my shirt a second before the pain hit and I stifled a yell of agony. I whirled, barely managing to keep my feet, as the Patriarch stepped forward and casually pointed the tip of his sword at my face.
“Yield, soldier,” he said. “The fight is lost. I promise to give you a quick death if you renounce your blasphemous crimes and beg forgiveness of the Order. Put down your sword, and I will end your pain and send you to God with a clean conscience. Your dragon friends would not do the same.”
“No,” I panted, raising my sword as I backed up a few steps. My back and left shoulder burned like they were on fire, and every motion sent a fresh stab of pain up my spine. It was a long, shallow gash, parting muscle and skin, more painful than deadly. I could still stand, and if I could stand, I could fight. I would not yield. I would see this through to the end, for her.
The Patriarch shook his head. “Why do you continue to protect them, Sebastian?” he asked. “They are not deserving of such loyalty. They are creatures. Monsters. They imitate us in order to infiltrate our world, our loved ones and our way of life. To corrupt it from within.”
“You’re wrong.”
“The world does not belong to them,” he continued, as if I hadn’t said anything. “The world belongs to man, as God intended it to be.” He stabbed the point of his blade at the edge of the circle, where Ember and Riley watched helplessly from the side. “They are not human, Sebastian. They don’t have souls, they don’t feel like we do. They are born of darkness and can never understand us. The only thing they know is how to manipulate and kill.”
“That isn’t true,” I gritted out. “Different doesn’t mean evil. Some of those dragons want nothing to do with the war. Some of them just want to survive. If you would just talk to one of them, you would understand that.”
“Spoken like a true dragonlover.” The Patriarch’s mild expression faded, growing hard. “I should have known you would turn on us. It was only a matter of time. It was in your blood, after all.” He shook his head, his features twisting with hate. “Like mother, like son.”
It felt like he’d punched me. For a moment, I could only stare at him, reeling, while he stood there with a faint smile on his face, knowing he’d just destroyed my whole perception of reality with one casual statement.
“What are you talking about?” I finally asked, and amazingly, my voice came out mostly steady. “My parents...they were killed by Talon.”