The fire seared past his ear, close enough that he could smell the sharp acridity of burnt hair. Black blood spattered over his hand, up and over his forearm as the creature howled and flailed in pain. The fire washed over the beast's face, searing, flesh cracking and blackening. The scent of burnt meat added to hair, oddly, horribly pleasant.

Symon licked his lips, but saw the opening that Asra gave him. He turned on his heel, swift and elegant, moving towards the beast once more. The creature, howling in its maddened agony flung out a clawed hand, a final desperate attack.

Symon was a moment too slow in dodging it, and claws raked a glancing strike along his throat. The scales only half turned the blow, and red blood spattered out in an arc, glinting scales scattering out as well, catching the light. But still he drove forward, plunging his sword deep into the creature's chest.