It was just like when Thorgoth had tried to force Timur to kill himself. Only, Frances knew she didn’t feel the same. She distinctly remembered that then, she’d felt strangely at peace. Timur’s words had made her felt a serenity that she did have right now, as she reeled in shock and horror from her student’s sacrifice.
The one thing that did felt similar was how she felt. The sensation that she could not let this happen. That it would go against her very being to let this happen.
Thus, the spell that came to her lips had less of a singular thought and more of a desperate plea. Her wand sharing her intent and thoughts they threw every ounce of strength and will into the wind and the sky.
The flaming venom, the remnants of what Frances’s rough barrier hadn’t dispelled, engulfed Hattie. The girl was screaming, her agony driving shards of ice into Frances’s heart.
Except as Hattie burned, a pale blue light shone around her and through the flames. Frances collapsed to her knees, her strength draining as she sang, trying to save her student.
Not knowing what else to do Frances yanked Hattie into the canal. As the half-troll smacked into the water, it erupted in a burst of steam. Frances scrambled to the edge, still singing like a woman possessed, she pulled Hattie out, hoping something was left.
Hattie was wincing, shaking and soaked, but to Frances’s surprise, she wasn’t a charred mess. Her clothes were almost entirely scorched off. Her hair had been burnt off in clumps and a few spots on her skin had turned an irritated blotchy red.
But she was alive.
Forcing her legs to move, Frances dragged herself and her student to cover. Behind a long-abandoned house, Frances ripped her cloak off and covered her student up.
“Hattie, why did you do that?”
The troll shivered, whether from the phantom pain of being set ablaze, or just from cold, Frances wasn’t sure. “Trying to make up for what I did. Sorry.”
Frances sighed, a weak smile somehow forming despite the situation.
“Thank you, Hattie. Now hide. I’m going to end this.”
“You? But—”
“You’re in no condition to fight, and you need to live, Hattie.” Frances let go of her student’s hand. She could hear Anriel and the harpies continuing to fight the dragon. Only, Hattie clung to her wrist.
“Please don’t die,” Hattie croaked. Her eyes filled with tears, and fear. “Don’t leave…I…I mean—”
Frances took a deep breath and something seemed to click in place inside of her. “I’ll come back. I promise.”
She gently pried Hattie’s hand off of her, limped back into the fight.
Ivy. I have an idea.
Her wand hmmd in interest and then trembled with affirmation. I like it, Frances. That and well, it’s our only chance.
I thought so. Frances studied the battle.
Telkandra was swatting at the dodging Anriel and the harpies, with her shredded wings drawn close to her body. Already Frances could see that only two harpies were left and the entire area was lit with swathes of burning venom. There was so much fire that it was sending up thick clouds of black smoke.
Raising her hands Frances sang her lightning aria. Yet, she didn’t just sing that song, she sang a new song.
As lightning gathered in her right hand, the canal water rose and shot at the dragon in jet. It wasn’t a particular fast or forceful jet. It was just enough to soak the dragon.
And enough for Frances to unleash her lightning right into the canal water.
The effect was instant. Telkandra had just turned to hit Frances with a blast of flame. As lightning arched all over her, she shuddered writhing, hissing as her muscles spasmed.
Not needing to create the lightning bolt, Frances continued to pour electricity into the jet of water, closing in on the writhing dragon.
Telkandra, despite flailing wildly, was still dangerous. A sudden lashing out of her arm caught Anriel and tossed the goblin head over heels. The ranger went down, groaning, trying to crawl to cover.
It forced Frances to continue hitting the dragon both with water and with the constant stream of lightning. She knew she couldn’t keep it up forever, but what choice did she have?
The dragon was trying to struggle towards her. It was no longer howling or bellowing. There was just a keen-eyed rage that kept the beast squirming, crawling, flopping even sometimes towards Frances, who continued to back up and sing.
Frances, you’re nearly out! Goldilora told you not to strain yourself
We’re dead if we let her get up! Not only that, but Hattie, Timur, everybody will be killed!
If you survive this, you might never be able to use magic again, Frances!
Frances could see black spots start to pop up in her vision, which seemed filled with the struggling dragon. Her throat was raw. Her lungs ached. Her lips were chapped and her hands wanted to drop to her sides.
Yet, there wasn’t an iota of doubt in her mind. There was simply a resolved peace that had settled. It was almost alien to her. All anxiety was gone, all worries, all nervousness and uncertainty. Frances had never felt so sure she was doing the right thing.
Ivy, we are not going to lose. We are going to live. If my magic is the price, then I will pay it for those that I love. I only wish we could have talked this out with Telkandra.
She sang, and somehow that song grew stronger. As she spoke, word and song intermingled. Sky-blue magic shone around Frances.
Something within her drove her to speak, and yet, the spell didn’t stop.
“Telkandra, this is your last chance! Abandon your grudge!”
The dragon’s only response was to hiss. A stream of flame gushed from her mouth to be put out by the electrified water. Somehow, even as the dragon flailed, crushing houses with her tail, tearing up showers of cobblestone with her claws, Telkandra managed to scream.
“Never!”
“Then I’m sorry.” Frances twisted her wand. A cascade of lightning tore down the jet of water she’d been directing and arched all over the Telkandra. Every muscle in the dragon seized and she jumped, flying several feet in the sky, before crashing down.
Frances fell to her knees, all strength gone, and sprawled facefirst onto the ground.
Telkandra hit the ground a moment after with a thunderous thud. The impact threw up a cloud of dust that briefly shielded her.
But as it settled, the form that was revealed was limp. The dragon’s chest no longer rose and fell. The dragon was dead.
----------------------------------------
Timur brought his khopesh down on an enemy orc’s sword again and again, trying to break through his guard. He managed to brute force his way past the orc’s guard on his last strike dealing a deep slash that collapsed the orc.
A troll took his place, pushing Timur back with cuts and stabs. Timur gasped as one of the cuts grazed his shoulder.
Behind him, Aloudin lashed out with his spear, forcing the troll the parry and opening up a moment for Timur to counter-slash. It took the troll at the knee, dropping the soldier.
“Switch!” Aloudin snapped, and Timur gladly let the captain take his place.
They still had the wall, but the enemy had a foothold. Missiles and spells continued to fly up and down the walls. Gratha’s experienced garrison of musketeers laying down as much fire as they could, but already Timur could see many humans laying dead or wounded. Thankfully, although Dwynalina’s magical fire had long given out, it had bought Epomonia time to shore up the gate. There was no way anybody was getting through.
The only problem was that the earth now piled up to cover the gate could be used as a ramp for enemy soldiers to get inside. That was why they were fighting for the walls.
“Watch out!” Timur pulled Aloudin back as Dwynalina screamed a note. A fireball slammed into the troops in front of them, blowing several off the parapet and setting the rest alight. Timur winced, hating how they screamed, and wishing against all reason, that things had turned out differently.
“Retreat!”
Timur blinked, but no, he’d heard that correctly. Helias’s soldiers, what remained of them were running. The walls were soon deserted and as Timur looked over the battlements, he could see the rest were limbering their cannon and pulling back.
“Commander Gratha, you and your garrison keep watch on them. Aloudin, Dwynalina get every able bodied mage you can and let’s get to that dragon!” Timur snapped.
----------------------------------------
Frances wasn’t sure how she was conscious. She felt exhausted, almost like how she felt after her duel with Thorgoth. A deep aching tiredness that throbbed in the very core of her being.
“Mother? Mother!”
“No!”
“It’s not possible!”
“They killed her! They killed her!”
Frances grabbed Ivy’s Sting. She could hear the dragonlets. She could hear their crying. It turned her relief and any feeling of triumph into ash.
She’d saved one orphan, only to orphan seven more.
Somehow she managed to turn her head. The seven dragonlets, each about as big as a pony, were holding their dead mother. Gold-colored tears were running down their amethyst-scaled cheeks.
They were slowly turning to Frances, the largest of them, Lakadara, Frances suddenly remembered, slowly stalked forward.
“You killed her! You were going to kill us!”
Frances couldn’t make a sound. She could only stare as the dragonlets approached.
So this was how she was going to die? She’d cheated it so many times, was this how she was going to be sent home?
A figure staggered in front of her and Frances instantly recognized her, from the clumps of dark blue hair on her head.
“Kill me!” Hattie gasped.
Lakadara blinked, golden eyes wide. “What.”
Hattie bowed her head. “Frances, fought your mother to protect me. She was just trying to take care of me. She’s always been trying to take care of me. To make up for killing my father.”
Lakadara glared at Hattie. “Then shouldn’t you let us kill her? She owes you her life!”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“My father was probably trying to kill her. I…I know that now. Please. She didn’t want to fight your mother. I was just too much of a coward to give myself up.”
Lakadara stared at Hattie. Frances wasn’t sure what she was seeing, but the eldest dragonlet’s glare was softening.
“Who cares, Lakadara, they should both die!” snarled one of the dragonlets.
Lakadara grimaced, “Velkandra—”
“I agree. She’s Dragonslayer’s Kin in any case,” hissed another dragonlet.
Lakadara growled, “Fennokra, perhaps—”
“Frances! Frances! We’re coming! Hang on!” bellowed a voice. Frances’s heart leapt. It was Timur!
The dragonlet called Fennokra lunged forward. Hattie threw herself over Frances.
“NO!”
Olgakaren dived like a bolt from the sky, her claws slamming right into Fennokra’s head. It was perfectly executed and on the much smaller dragonlet was knocked askew, howling in rage. The harpy lofted back into the air and settled onto the corner of a ruined house.
“You kill her, and none of you will live! I heard Frances offer your mother mercy and your mother refused! Her death is on her claws. If you don’t want us to hunt you down, then leave and never come back!”
Most of the dragonlets snarled and made to attack, but Frances could hear it now, the sound of running and of battle cries.
“We need to go,” Lakadara hissed.
Velkandra growled, “We will return, harpy! And you and your kin will rue the day you slew our mother!”
The dragonlets leapt into the sky, small wings picking up and carrying them through the city. They soared over Athelda-Aoun, disappearing over the city towards the northern entrance.
Frances didn’t see any of this. She was being lifted up, or at least, Hattie was trying to lift her up.
“I got her! Thanks Hattie!” Timur stammered. Frances let her eyes close as the trogre’s arms wrapped around her. “Frances, you…Holy shit.”
Frances smiled weakly. “Yeah, we killed a dragon. Thanks for holding Helias off.”
“How did—Anyway, I’m sorry. I should have sent—”
“You did the right fucking thing, Your Highness,” growled Anriel, limping over, supported by a heavily breathing Dwynalina. “The walls would have fallen if we hadn’t stayed.”
Aloudin chuckled, a slightly hysterical note to the orc’s normally placid tone. “Yeah, we survived.”
A silence, broken by the occasional tired giggle greeted that. It was punctuated by Frances croaking, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to get some rest. Someone please figure out how we missed a dragon in the city.”
And Frances knew no more as she let herself drift off in Timur’s arms.
----------------------------------------
It turned out that missing the dragon had been rather inevitable. Athelda-Aoun was just too large an area. Timur, Epomonia and Aloudin’s investigation of Telkandra’s lair also revealed that there was a colossal boulder that had been rolled in front of the cave. It wasn’t a perfect seal, but nobody but a dragon would have been able to shift it.
“Only rats would have been able to squeeze through,” muttered Aloudin, looking up at the cavernous opening. It’d clearly been part of the original mine, with numerous claw marks showing that the dragon had widened it.
“Or sound,” said Epomonia. “When Helias and Frances were fighting, they must have caused enough sound to wake the dragon. Not that they could have known.”
Timur pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m still annoyed that Helias sneaked into the city. I mean, it’s not surprising, but we need to do a survey of all the entrances.”
Epomonia hesitated. “There won’t be any punishment for Hattie, right?”
The prince looked up, shaking his head emphatically. “She’s not a little girl, but she’s not an adult. She was very lonely, very angry and Helias told her exactly what she wanted to hear. I don’t blame her. It’s what my dad did to me for years.” Timur winced. “Not everybody feels that way, though. I’m… I’m worried about her. It’s why I’m glad the rest of the Lightning Battalion is on its way, with all those children they rescued.”
The trio walked into the cave, Aloudin and Timur lighting the way with their wands.
“I believe Edana Firehand and several White Order mages are coming as well, Your Highness?” Aloudin asked.
“Yes. The Firehand said she needed to see Frances and that the students from both the school and the rescued kids need teachers. I believe the Firehand’s mother, Lady Eleanor, is coming as well from Erlenberg. Apparently she was a duellist mage in her younger years.”
“I thought she was a member of the Erlenberg City Council?” Epomonia asked.
“Apparently not any longer. Gave her seat up to her son and is apparently retiring from politics.” Timur peered into the dimly lit cave and blinked. “Is that…did that twinkle?”
The three Alavari were walking into a part of the cave that opened up. Clearly, Telkandra and her children had slept here as there were deep indents in the floor from the dragons rolling or shifting in their slumber.
What was also there was Telkandra’s horde.
“Not like the legends, but…this is going to help,” said Timur, smiling.
“Timur, I believe you, but I’m not sure what these things are,” said Epomonia.
The prince didn’t blame her. The horde only had a few gold goblet and coins stacked neatly to one side. The rest formed a messy pile that reached the ceiling of the cavern and was a mixture of ornaments, statues, cups and even a few mirrors, were incredibly dusty and seemed black or even a bit green and blue.
“It’s brass, made from tin and copper probably mined from this very mine,” said Timur, he picked up what he believed was a plate. “It’s just oxidized. With a good polish, this can fetch a good price, and we have a lot of it. More importantly, these have historical value. After the war, they could fetch a pretty penny from private collectors and nobles.”
“Ah, that’s comforting.” Aloudin examined the indents. “I wonder how long the dragon habr been here.”
“Dwynalina and Anriel told me she could have been here for centuries. Her children however must have been recently born. Warmblood Dragons, or Purple Dragons, like Telkandra, grow incredibly fast. Those children of hers will reach the size of a small house in a year,” said Timur.
“Wait, they’ll reach the size of a small house in a year…doesn't that mean—”
Timur nodded, his smile gone. “Yes. We’ll have to be ready for them when they return.”
----------------------------------------
Frances couldn’t remember what had happened after the battle, mostly because she’d been in a daze. She slipped in and out of consciousness, never sure of the time when she woke up, but always too tired to ask.
She knew she was in her new house and there was always someone there to get her water, something to eat, and to help her to the bathroom. At first it was Timur. Then it was Olgakaren. Then Epomonia. Timur again. Sometimes it was Dwynalina? Or was it Anriel? She’d barely managed to stay awake long enough to tell Timur and Aloudin what had happened. She hoped she managed to get across that Hattie was manipulated, but she wasn’t sure.
What she did remember was finding Timur lying beside her when it was time for him to sleep. The first time it happened she smiled and fell right back asleep. Sometimes she caught Timur as he was slipping in and he’d kiss her, she’d laugh weakly and she’d say something that she couldn’t remember. Was she dreaming? Was she awake? All she knew was she was alive.
One day she woke up, Timur was dressing himself. Frances blinked and yawned. The exhaustion was still there, but the fog, the delirium that’d gripped her was gone.
“Timur? How…how long have I been out?” Frances whispered.
Her prince spun around. “Mataia? You…you’re awake?” He ran over and knelt down by her side. “How many fingers am I holding?”
“Four,” said Frances, frowning. She blinked as Timur exhaled with obvious relief. “Oh wow, I must have been really out of it. How…how long was I in this state?”
Timur wrapped Frances in a tight, almost desperate hug. “It’s been a week. You were…you were conscious but not lucid. I was so worried, even though your mother said that this is more than natural for a mage who’d expended so much magic.”
Frances swallowed and raised her hand, focusing on it, only to gasp as pain stabbed through her body.
Her prince quickly grabbed her hand. “Don’t! You still have your magic, but Dwynalina and your mother agreed that you’re in a horrible shape. If you hadn’t gotten that month-long rest, you probably would have lost your magic permanently.”
Sighing, Frances leaned in against Timur’s chest. “Well, I guess I’m out of action for a while again. Good thing it’s winter. The campaigning season’s over now.” A moment later, her tired brain connected with something that her boyfriend had said. “Wait, mom’s here?”
Timur beamed. “And your grandmother’s on her way to Athelda-Aoun. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”
----------------------------------------
Edana drummed her fingers on a table of the city’s new headquarters, the other clutching her wife’s hand.
“‘Dana will you get out of your funk already? Or does our child have to kick me again?” Igraine grumbled.
Managing a small smile, Edana bent down by Igraine’s stomach and whispered, “Please do nudge your mom little one, I know she hates it but she also is secretly happy.”
“Am not! And stop deflecting Edana!” Igraine exclaimed, trying to hide her smile.
Edana sighed. “Sorry, Igraine. I was just thinking if what we decided earlier was the right thing to do.”
The ranger reached over to caress her mage’s cheek. “You know it is. You know I will support you on this, and you know it’s temporary,” she said.
Edana smiled, “Thank you love.”
The sound of heavy footsteps drew the pair’s attention and Edana’s eyes widened as her daughter limped into view.
Frances had an unhealthy pallor, like the olive-brown of her skin had been let out and replaced with a watered down pale white. One leg was bandaged and she leaned so heavily on Timur she looked like she was falling onto him.
Yet as her tired eyes met Edana’s, a bright—no, radiant smile lit up Frances’s features.
“Mom!”
Edana practically flew across the room, practically wresting her daughter from Timur. She’d thought about what she wanted to say but all of those careful words had vanished.
“Frances, oh dear. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too, mom.”
Edana sniffled. “I’m so sorry! I should have noticed! I should have realized you were overtaxing yourself!”
Frances looked up at her mother, blinking owlishly. “Overtaxing—oh you mean my magic?”
Edana nodded. “Yes. I should have realized the combat you’ve gone through along with the curse…it was too much.”
“Mom, you’ve already apologized for that and honestly I should have realized. It’s my magic.”
“Maybe but…”
“But I’m fine right? I mean, I can still use magic. I just need a lot of time to recover, right?”
Edana took a deep breath. “You’ll need a year at least. I’m not sure what you did to defeat Telkandra. From what Hattie, Anriel and Olgakaren told me, you should have killed yourself. As it is, you somehow escaped without permanent damage.”
“Well that’s good—”
“Frances, when I say you need a year I mean that you can’t go out on campaign or missions for a year. You need to stay in Athelda-aoun, maybe fight a few defensive battles, but you can’t put yourself in deliberate danger with the Lightning Battalion.”
Frances stared at her mother. “Oh. I…okay.”
Edana blinked. “How do you feel about that, dear?”
“I’m worried. I mean…” Frances closed her eyes for a moment, a million thoughts from a great many conversations running through her head. “I…I do feel like I’m not doing my part, but that doesn’t bother me so much. I’m beginning to learn that a person’s value…my value, isn’t based on that, if that makes any sense?”
Edana smiled. “It does, and I’m really happy that you are beginning to internalise that.”
“Thanks mom. I just…I’m worried about the war, though. If I can’t go onto the front lines, then I’m out of action and so we’ve lost well, me.” Frances sighed. “I mean there’s a lot to do in Athelda-Aoun so I know I will be helping but it won’t be the same.”
Edana nodded, “No it wouldn’t, which is why I’ll be returning to active duty.”
Frances froze, her eyes snapping up to her mother’s. “Wait what? But your child! What about Igraine! What about the fact that you’re supposed to be our last resort?”
“Your sibling will be born quite soon, which will let me spend time with them over the winter. Igraine and I have talked this over and we both agree it’s necessary,” said Edana.
Frances glanced over to Igraine, hoping the ranger would disagree but the woman only nodded, a grim smile on her features.
“As for being Erisdale’s last resort, the situation’s changed, Frances.” Edana smiled and patted her daughters head, wondering when Frances had gotten taller. “I think it’s fair to say that you’re no longer just one of our most skilled Otherworlder mages. You are now one of humanity’s last hopes.”
Swallowing, Frances had to sit down, and not just because she was tired. “Me?”
Edana nodded. “You did kill a dragon after all.”
“I didn’t want to. She was going to kill Hattie—my new apprentice. Well, for the moment.” Frances winced. “It’s complicated. I…I killed her father and well, she’s here now because half-human, half-troll. Her mother was killed too, so…I guess I’m taking care of her now for the moment.”
Her mother nodded, taking a seat herself next to Igraine, but staying next to Frances. “I heard a little of what happened from Timur, and from what I’ve heard, I think you’ve been doing a good job with her.”
“I…I hope so. It’s just, well, I feel like if I was a bit better, she wouldn’t have betrayed us. I mean, I don’t think there is anything I could have done better. It’s very complicated between us after all,” said Frances. She glanced at Timur. “How is she? I know she was burned but how bad is it?”
His six fingered hand squeezed her shoulder. “Frances, it’s a bad scar, and some of her hair will never grow back, but she’s alive thanks to you. We should see her next actually. She’s been worried sick.”
“She—what?”
Timur smiled. “It’s complicated.”
“It seems that you aren’t the only one who has grown, Frances,” said Edana.
Frances laughed, but it came out more of a wheeze. “Thanks. I…” She took a deep breath. “It’s really over isn’t it? Our run from Delbarria. Is it really over?”
Edana nodded, taking her daughter’s hand. “Yes, it is.”
Frances let out a long breath, somehow feeling far more at ease than she had in months. “I…I should show you our house mom. I mean…You’re alright if Timur and I move in together?” she stammered.
Her mom seemed to notice something she liked in her Timur’s expression because she grinned. “Nothing would make me happier, dear.”
“Oh thank Galena,” Timur blurted out, before he could stop himself. “I mean, thank you for your blessing, Lady Firehand.”
Edana arched an eyebrow at Timur. “I haven’t forgotten that you were sworn to kill me once upon a time, Your Highness.”
“Mom!” Frances whined as Timur froze. Edana held her serious expression for another split second before she chuckled, one hand over her mouth.
Igraine had no such reservations and she cackled. “Let your mother tease your boyfriend a little, Frances. When can she expect grandchildren by the way?”
Frances and Timur felt their cheeks burn as they exchanged a panicked glance.
“Not yet!”
“Does she know?”
“Timur, don’t ask that!”
“Why—Oh no! I mean, we have, but I mean I made sure that—oh I shouldn’t say that—”
“Timur!” Frances wailed, giggling hopelessly as her mother shook with mirth, whilst her eyebrows practically vanished into her hairline.
Timur tried to hide his face with his one free hand. “Sorry!”
Edana coughed officiously. “Enough detail, Your Highness. Let us be off—”
Four figures practically slid into view of the doorframe, all in various states of exertion. Elizabeth was the first to leap through and practically tackle Frances.
“Frances! Oh God, I was so worried!”
“Liz—” Frances squeaked and nearly fell as Martin, Ayax and Ginger joined the hug, locking her next to Timur.
“Stop getting into so much danger!” hissed Martin.
“How are you sleeping? Does your head hurt?” Ginger stammered.
“How are you feeling about your student?”
“Uhh…you’re, choking Frances,” Timur gasped.
They all let go, much to the relief of Frances’s aching lungs, but stayed close.
“Um, I’m sleeping well. Sorry I got into danger. My head is alright. I’m a little worried about Hattie, and…” Frances wiped the moisture from her eyes, and tried to touch her friends hands, wishing she had more hands to do so. She settled on wrapping her arms around their shoulders to pull them into a sortof huddle. “I’ve missed you all so much.”
Timur, also wrapped into the huddle, coughed. “I can leave you—”
“Don’t you dare,” everybody else said.
The prince blinked. “Oh, thanks.”
“We missed you too,” said Elizabeth.
“I mean, we saw you through the mirror, but it wasn’t the same,” said Martin.
Ayax squeezed Frances’s shoulder and glanced at Timur. “We’re glad that you had someone taking care of you, though.”
Frances, blinking back her tears, grinned. “You guys are the best.”
They all laughed, because after all, they were all together again, and the relief that they felt was simply intoxicating.