Into the light of a distant sun

Kysa clutched the hilt of her sword, her fingers mottled white and red from the pressure of her grip. Her breath came in deep pants; her chest rising and falling like her sword had only moments ago. Her blade dripped with the dragon's blood, bright blue contrasting and complimenting the silver of the steel, and with a sharp twist she dislodged the weapon from between two vertebrae.

Pulling a dagger from her belt she set herself to the task of removing one of the dragon's front teeth, the fang as long as her forearm, and it finally gave with a wet popping sound that echoed through the icy canyon.

Holding the tooth in her left hand she stared down at it, at the deeply scared surface, and the still perfect point; this one was young, and it made number seventeen. Seventeen times she had fought a dragon, and seventeen times she had emerged victorious; she should have felt more pride in her accomplishments, but instead she felt hollow.

Climbing up the fallen dragon's leg, she ascended the cool, scaly body to sit on its back, leaning against the tall spines, and letting the tooth rest in her lap. She couldn't look at the tooth without thinking of Reese, and the way his body had looked after being pierced through the chest by a tooth exactly like the one she held.

Reese.

Her lover.

She could remember even the smallest detail; the velvety brown of his eyes, his long unkempt chestnut hair, and the way his hands felt on her skin. But the image that always fought its way to the forefront of her mind was that of his broken body, his blood still warm as it saturated her.

That had been the first dragon she'd killed. She didn't know if dragon's had memories. She didn't know if that enormous beast had known why she was killing it. She didn't care.

Its eyes had been filled with green fire, watching her with wide elliptical pupils as she moved warily around it. It had breathed fire on her, and despite the efforts of the best healers, she still bore the scars from the plate armor that she had worn that day; but her soul was scared beyond the skills of even the highest ranking mage.

Staring down the length of the canyon, she squinted into the light of a distant sun, the bright golden rays reflecting off the ice covered walls, and glancing across her empty face like skipped stones; the warmth of the light unable to penetrate her battle-hardened skin.

Sliding down the dead animal's side, her booted feet hit the snow, sending up small flurries around her calves, and she struck out toward the mouth of the canyon. This was the life she was left with; this was the life she had, and this was the life she would lead until a dragon's lucky bite sent her back to Reese.