But Rein couldn't care less; he was so angry he couldn't empathize. How could the dragon beg for mercy? He raised his hand; fire sprang from his fingertips and seared into the heart of the dragon. The creature's wails rang through the mountains as it crashed and quivered down to the ground, lifeless. Yet, somehow, with all his heart, Rein did not feel a victor. The fire that had burned with an angry vengeance now smoldered heavily with regret. He had killed an innocent dragon, which, despite the context, had pleaded for mercy. But now there was no turning back.
As the dragon's blood seeped into the earth, doubt crested down Rein's spine. He had killed; yet what did that cost? Was vengeance worth this emptiness?