Hundreds of soldiers filed through Kairon-Aoun and the fortifications, streaming toward the assembly area outside of the rubble that used to be First Terrace. The sound of hooves, and thudding feet and claws provided a rumbling soundtrack as Frances checked her equipment in the gallery of the goblin empire’s old palace.
Beside her, Timur gave his new khopesh a series of experimental swings. Morgan and Hattie were checking each other’s armor and equipment.
“Everybody ready?” Frances asked.
“Yes. Are you sure you both have to fight?” Morgan asked.
Frances rarely missed the times when Morgan had been perpetually annoyed or angry at her. This was one of the few times when her daughter looked at her with wide black eyes. She was trying to relax her hands so badly, but she could see how stiff she held her wings to her body.
Timur looked up from checking his armor. “Yes. I’m going to be a staff officer under Martin and Ginger’s command. Frances is going to be with a special group.”
Morgan shivered. “To fight Thorgoth?”
Frances nodded, clasping her daughter’s gauntleted hand. “Yes.”
“I should be with you,” Hattie said.
Frances sighed. They’d decided that it was best for Hattie to stay with Morgan with the mages put in reserve. They were to be led by Dwynalina and deployed more toward the rear of the army.
“The level of combat that we’re going into Hattie is far beyond anything you’ve trained against. I won’t stop you. I don’t think I can, but please be careful and follow Dwylanina’s orders. They need your protection as much as you need theirs,” said Frances.
“I know.” Hattie and Frances simultaneously clasped each other's arms, squeezing tightly before letting each other go.
Morgan in the meantime was hugging Timur, trying her best to keep the tears from flooding her eyes. “Uncle Timur, please don’t take any other crazy risks.”
His voice choked, Timur squeezed Morgan tightly. “I’ll try my best. Now, go say goodbye to your mother,”
Morgan nodded. Letting the prince go, she ran over, away from the group to Renia. Her lip quivering, the harpy embraced her daughter.
“I love you. I love you so much.”
“I’ll be back, mom. I promise,” Morgan said, face buried in her mother’s downy feathers. “You know I just have to do this. I have Lightbreaker and my magic.”
“I know. I just don’t want you to go, just like how you don’t want Frances and Timur to participate,” said Renia.
“Mom!” Morgan whined, letting go of the harpy.
Frances hid her smile behind her hand. So that was where Morgan got her sarcasm from.
“We’ll take care of each other,” said Timur, standing tall. Frances had to admit that her fiance cut a striking figure. Cuirass was over a thick leather buff coat. The curls of his hair were slightly tamed by the lobster-tailed helmet. Two pistols were tucked into holsters on his hip, beside a holster for his sword.
Tearing her eyes from her beloved, Frances said, “Morgan, Hattie, we’re going now.”
Morgan, in full armor, barrelled into Frances in a hug. “You’re coming back.”
“I will. You stay safe,” said Frances. The words felt a little hollow, but only a little. It took all her strength though to let her daughter go and walk away from her girls with her fiance.
Somehow, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, taking her away from her daughter and her apprentice.
Only a slight nudge from Timur took her out of her thoughts.
“So, were you looking?” her prince asked.
Panicked blinking gave way to an embarrassed smile as Frances felt the mirth behind Timur’s smile.
“Yes—I mean—If you must know you look very handsome.” Frances pursed her lips. “You’d look better with your cape, though.”
Timur looked over his shoulder, and nodded. “I would but I think I don’t want more things for my father to grab on to.”
Frances could feel icy dread stabbing into her stomach. Hoping it wasn’t a portent of things to come, she forced herself to ask, “You think you’re going to meet him?”
“He’s probably going after me, or you. Perhaps both.” Her prince must have seen something in her expression because he squeezed her shoulder. “Think of it this way, Mataia. Most of our friends are on this battlefield. You will go to their aid if they are attacked by my father.”
“You know me far too well.” Not stopping, Frances wrapped an arm around her love’s waist. It was a little awkward from the gear they carried, and she knew he couldn’t feel her touch through his cuirass or her gloves. Yet she could see his tail twitch ever so slightly at the gesture. “If…If I meet your father, I’m sorry.”
Timur sighed. “You have apologized for that time and time again before even defeating him. Please don’t worry. I… I will be fine. He’s chosen his path. I have chosen mine.”
Frances smiled, a tingle on the edges of her lips. She wanted to kiss her love, but there would be no kisses until their helmets were off and the battle was won. “I know. Still, thank you.”
They continued to walk, holding one another, until they rejoined the army outside of the palace and their horses.
They rode together past the columns of marching soldiers, quickly reaching the remnants of the First Terrace. Even with a number of battalions entrenching themselves into the ruins, they couldn’t help but feel a bit buoyed by the army that stretched out in front of them.
Erlenberg and Lapanterian forces formed the left flank. The Lightning Battalion took the center. The right consisted of the remaining Erisdalians, former Traditionalist and Reformer forces alike. Each of the forces were subdivided into three distinct divisions: vanguard in the front ranks, a middle main force and a reserve. Each of these divisions had a different mix of cavalry, musketeers and pikemen that generally took up roughly square formations.
Across from the no-man’s land that they’d clashed over from the first day, was the Alavari army.
“It looks just as we guessed. They didn’t retreat into the Greenway. They are very much preparing to use the greater size of the cavern in their attack. That’ll give them room to maneuver, but it’ll also let us hit them hard. What happens in the first act will determine the flow of the battle.”
Frances glanced at her fiance. Timur was blabbering. His gauntleted hands were tight around his reins and she knew most of what he was saying. Still, she didn’t stop him, she knew it helped him feel calm to self-narrate.
As they rode through past the regiments of the Lightning Battalion, Frances waved at her soldiers. She recognized quite a few of them, even knew a few names. There was Helen, one of the veterans from Erlenberg who now led the Lightning Battalion’s reserve division. There were Jessica’s friends Noff and Columbine keeping one of the regiments in order.
Martin was with the reserves. In heavy armor, he was escorted by a wall of Erisdalian and Lightning Battalion cavalry. At their head was a very large female knight. Her open visor showed a spiderweb of scars that arched across her left cheek.
“Timur, this is your stop,” said Frances in a gentle voice. She turned her gaze to her fiance and love. He was blinking rapidly, his eyes moist.
Her prince swallowed. “I know. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Frances blew a kiss to her fiance, as he took his side amidst Martin’s bodyguards and other officers.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of him, Frances,” said Martin.
“And I’ll take care of Ayax and Liz.” Touching the sides of her horse with her heels, she galloped off, refusing to look back.
In the distance, riding amongst the vanguard troops was Captain Aloudin, escorted by Epomonia and Olgakaren. They looked calm, but she knew they were anxious. Timur had told her that Epomonia and Olgakaren had exchanged vows in private, witnessed by Aloudin and himself.
Beside them were the leaders of the vanguard division of the Lightning Battalion, Elizabeth, along with Ayax and other mages such as Kellyanne.
That was not where she was going, though. She was heading toward another group of soldiers flying Lightning Battalion banners.
“Hey Liz. Hey Ayax,” said Frances, waving her hand. To Jessica riding beside her cousin and best friend, she just dipped her head.
Elizabeth beamed. “Hi Frances. We estimate about twenty-thousand soldiers they deployed against us.”
Ayax flashed Frances a wan smile. “Titania is probably up against about five to ten thousand with her fifteen, but they’ve entrenched the Greenway heavily. We outnumber them, but it’s not going to be an easy fight.”
“Do you still think Thorgoth will hit the Erisdalians first?” Frances asked.
“It’s what I would do if I was in his situation. The Lightning Battalion, Erlenberg and Lapanterians are warmed up and ready from the fighting for the last few days. However, the Erisdalians still need to sort out the divisions between Traditionalist and Reformer troops,” Elizabeth said.
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They all were turning to look to their right flank. They could see Ginger’s royal banner and her bodyguards in the distance. Frances also knew that was where her mother, in her dragon armor, had to be along with Kellyanne, Nicole, Jim and Leila.
At the head of the army, King Sebastian of Lapanteria rode with Megara and their bodyguards. As pre-arranged, his speech echoed throughout the cavern.
“Soldiers of Erisdale, Erlenberg, those Alavari who are fighting with us today, and of course, my brave Lapanterians. I salute you all! My wife advises to make this short, and so I shall. No matter the outcome of this battle, you know as well as I that we are fighting to stop a cruel tyrant and will be known throughout Durannon as the heroes and heroines!”
The king reared up, sword raised. His voice amplified by his wife’s magic.
“To victory!”
Frances raised Ivy’s Sting and bellowed. “To victory!”
“To victory!”
The army’s roar shuddered the ground, causing horses to shiver as thousands of soldiers cheered and stomped their feet.
Across from the battlefield, Frances could just hear the Alavari army rallying. She could see the gleam of their weapons shake as they too were whipped up by their king to a frenzy.
Ginger took a deep breath and turned to Jessica. “Signal Lakadara. Let’s get this started!”
The final battle was now upon them.
***
Fennokra rolled her shoulders and cleared her throat. She needed to be sure that the fire that she breathed would come out as a clear stream.
Beside her, Yolandra fiddled with her broken right claw. The pair were studiously ignoring their other two siblings.
Velkandra was already flapping her wings, causing the banners of the Alavari near her to whip and snap in the gale she stirred up. She didn’t leap off the ground, but she did smirk at the consternation of the soldiers around her. Meanwhile, Makendra tested the sharpness of his claws on a nearby boulder.
Fennokra narrowed her eyes at the army once more. There were a lot of soldiers, and while didn’t know all the intricacies of how the ground-bound deployed their armies, she could tell how organized they seemed and how numerous they were.
“Velkandra, I don’t like the look of that. Are you sure we’re going to be leading the attack?”
Her elder sister grimaced. “We’re outnumbered and if you remember, part of our allies are buying us time. We need to defeat them before we get attacked from the rear and frankly the only way we’re going to do it is if we soften them up first.”
“We’re going to be the focus of all their mages and cannons,” Fennokra said.
“A risk we will have to take,” said Velkandra.
Yolandra’s eyes narrowed before widening. “Hold on, what’s that? In the distance, from the city.”
Following her sister’s claw, Fennokra managed to see the movement from the Third Terrace of Kairon Aoun. Her keen eyed vision focusing, she immediately could tell that it looked like a flying creature of some kind. A very large, violet—
“No.” Fennokra felt heart stop and her tail slam into the ground.
Makendra’s claws ground into the earth underneath. “Impossible.”
Yolandra whispered. “It can’t be. She’s dead. Besides, she wouldn’t… She couldn’t!”
But it was a purple dragon with gleaming golden eyes that soared over the enemy army. Gliding down toward the front of the humans, she landed, wingspan flared to her full length. Her neck was held high as she gazed down towards the rest of Alavari forces.
“Velkandra! Fennokra! Yolandra! Makendra! I can see you there. I would speak to you, face to face, as your sister.”
Fennokra had forgotten that their eldest sister was actually the largest of all of them. It was subtle. There wasn’t any particularly one aspect of her that dwarfed them, but there was a reason that it’d taken all seven of them to bring her down.
Puffs of smoke escaped Velkandra’s gritted teeth. “She sided with them? That worthless welp—Yolandra?”
Fennokra twisted her head to see Velkandra’s jaw drop wide open. Yolandra was leaping into the sky and was already flying towards Lakadara.
“Wait!” Fennokra jumped into the air as well, her wings desperately churning gusts of air that caused some of the soldiers near her to lose their footing. “Yolandra! It could be a trick! An illusion to set a trap for us!”
“Who else would know what she looked like? Besides, how could an illusion fool the entire Alavari army? No sister, that has to be Lakadara!”
“And what if she wants us to fight Thorgoth? We cannot afford to do so!” Fennokra howled.
Yolandra wasn’t looking back. She dived toward Lakadara, claws sheathed. “Do whatever you want, I am talking to the sister I thought I killed!”
The smaller dragon careened onto the ground, claws digging up thick ruts as she flared her wings. Lakadara’s wing twitched and her tail shuffled slightly, but she remained quite still.
“Lakadara, I’m…I’m sorry,” Yolandra took a step forward, but stopped. Her sister remained motionless, except for her eyes. Now that she was closer, she could see Lakadara’s golden eyes were flickering, looking at her and the three other dragons that landed behind her.
“It’s alright, Yolandra,” Lakadara smiled. “I’m glad you’re well.”
Fennokra closed her eyes briefly and tucked in her wings. “I’m glad you’re alive too, sister, but how did you survive? We didn’t see your corpse, but you were near-death.”
“The Stormcaller’s beloved and his mother saved my life from soldiers that Thorgoth sent to find and kill me. Mages and healers allied to Queen Titania and the humans then nursed me to health,” said Lakadara.
Velkandra snorted and shoved Yolandra aside as she stormed forward. Fennokra let out a warning hiss, but her elder sister ignored her.
“For what reason? So that you’d become their lackey? Their pet dragon?” Velkandra asked.
Lakadara’s wings fluttered, her neck and head turning to meet Velkandra’s venomous glare. “Out of mercy and out of a desire for peace. The Stormcaller and her allies have no quarrel with us, just as they never did with our mother.”
“They must have offered something to you, though. There’s no way they would—”
The sharp whoosh of Lakadara letting out a short stream of fire cut over Velkandra’s drawl. Extending her wings, a smile returned to the features of the oldest of Telkandra’s brood.
“They did offer me something. They did have something to gain and I accepted because it was an excellent deal. Far better than the one we struck with Thorgoth.”
“What? You fight for whomever offers you food and some shelter? Something they could just take away?” Velkandra asked.
“The King and Queen of Erisdale, and later today, Queen Titania of Alavaria offered me land. A Dragonhome in perpetuity for me and my children—”
“You can’t be serious—”
Fennokra’s wing tip lashed out, slapping Velkandra’s side. “Shut up! Lakadara was never a fool. What did they offer you that was so tempting, sister?”
“They offered me land for myself and my future children, on the condition I speak to you. After that, they told me I could leave,” Lakadara said. She was met with a wall of silence as the dragons stared at her.
“Leave?” Makendra stammered. Of all the siblings, only he was capable of speaking. His siblings' tails had flopped on the floor in various states of shock.
“Just like that? That can’t be it. Do they not wish for you to help?” Makendra asked.
Lakadara nodded. “They do, but they were more understanding that making me fight for them solves nothing for the future and I have to wonder…what would fighting for Thorgoth get us? Revenge on a human mage who was just protecting her apprentice. More dead siblings and maybe our eventual death at Thorgoth’s own hands.”
“Mother would want us to take revenge,” Fennokra said. Yet, she knew she hadn’t spoken it forcefully enough as Lakadara now turned a knowing gaze towards her.
“Maybe, but I doubt she would want us to kill ourselves pursuing it,” said Lakadara.
Fennokra wasn’t sure if it was tension, stress or even fear, but she felt her shoulders and haunches lighten as some invisible weight fell from them. “And they want you to talk to us so that you could give us the same offer,” she said.
Lakadara nodded.
“What, they gave you a cave and you’re going to give up?” Velkandra asked.“They’re willing to give us an entire mountain range, including several very large mountains. Enough room for hundreds of dragon caves,” said Lakadara.
“Just so that we just accept and leave? Not even fight? That’s…that’s good, but what if Thorgoth wins?” Yolandra asked.
“He’d kill us anyway wouldn’t he?” asked Fennokra. She was no longer looking at her sister, she knew where Lakadara stood.
Her eyes were instead of Velkandra, her feelings betrayed only by a slight snarl.
“We made a deal. What does it say about us if we break it?” Makendra asked.
Yolandra pointed to the massive army across from them. “What happens if we don’t break it and Thorgoth is defeated? If we die against that, right here, right now?” Sighing, Yolandra strode toward Lakadara. “Certain death, possible life. I know what I’m choosing.”
Fennokra winced. “Wait, Yolandra—”
“Don’t you dare take another step, sister.”
Velkandra had extended her wings. Hackles raised, legs braced to drive herself into the air, the dragon was ready to pounce. Slowly, her eyes wide, Yolandra turned around, mouth agape, unable to speak.
“Sister, what are you doing?” Fennokra asked, a chill running up the spikes on her spine.
Velkandra stalked toward their smallest sibling, teeth bared. Claws scraping against the earth with a grating grumble. “She sides with the creatures that killed our mother. Did you all forget our goal? Our lifelong mission? The Stormcaller killed our mother. We swore revenge.”
“So we fight half the continent to kill her?” Fennokra demanded. She didn’t know why she only realized it so recently and yet she knew she saw clearly. She could see the paths in front of them, and the glint of fury in her second sister’s eye.
“We kill whoever gets in our way to end her because she killed our mother!
“Do we kill children too?” Lakadara slid in beside Yolandra, wing furled protectively over her younger sibling. “Do we kill their children because they might seek revenge? Because by that logic the Stormcaller and her allies should have killed us.”
“Don’t you dare compare me to that dragon slayer!”
“Then don’t interfere with our sister’s right to choose her own path! Or are we now down to killing our own family members because they don’t agree with us? Like how you tried to kill me?” Lakadara asked. Her eyes gazed at each of her siblings before coming back to Velkandra. “Let Yolandra go. Fennokra, Makendra, if you wish to leave, you may do so. It is your choice.”
Makendra closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m sorry, sister, but I cannot fight for them. They killed our mother.”
Lakadara’s tail drooped, but she nodded and turned to Fennokra, who suddenly felt so small underneath her sister’s gaze. When did she get so calm, so composed despite the situation? She’d always been the wisest of them and yet she seemed moreso.
“Fennokra?”
“Can we not discuss this? Try to…to work out an arrangement that benefits—”
Velkandra snorted. “Come on Fennokra. I thought you were the smart one—”
“I don’t want to hurt my own family! But I can’t abandon… I… Lakadara, I’m sorry.” Fennokra blinked back her tears, only to find her sister smiling at her.
“It’s alright, Fennokra. I understand.” Turning around, Lakadara dipped her head over her shoulder. “I wish you good fortune and fair winds. Yolandra, let’s go.”
The two dragons strode from the group, Fennokra staring after them, frozen. She refused to believe this was happening. Her joy at finding her sister was alive, doused by the despair that what remained of her family was now tearing apart. Yolandra looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with her for a brief moment, before she continued.
Fennokra bowed her head, unable to look after her sisters. That was when she realized out of the corner of her eye that Velkandra hadn’t moved from her pose. Her wings were still extended, legs still locked in place.
There was a slight shiver through the larger dragon. Fennokra then knew.
“Velkandra no!”
Her sister leapt into the air, neck craning back, lungs sucking in a huge breath. Fennokra was already moving. She could see Lakadara twisting around, lips pulled back in a snarl. Yolandra was fleeing, wings frantically unfurling.
Fennokra could see herself leaping up to Velkandra and tackling her aside, throwing the older dragon’s aim off and sending her crashing to the ground.
“Traitor!” Velkandra screamed. Claw scraped on scale as the pair rolled. Fennokra fighting on instinct, her sister’s claws around her throat, she tried to spit fire into her strangler’s face, but Velkandra’s grip was too tight.
“Fennokra!” Lakadara slammed into Velkandra, ripping her off of her and throwing her aside. Almost blinded by tears, Fennokra staggered to her feet, helped up by Yolandra.
Velkandra and Makendra glared at them rising into the air. Behind them, Thorgoth’s army was charging forward. Legions of Alavari with their shining weapons moving like some strange spread out living beast.
“Thank you, Fennokra,” said Yolandra.
“There’s no need to thank me,” said Fennokra.
Lakadara gestured behind them with her tail. “Don’t worry. We have some friends.”
Fennokra chanced a glance. The Stormcaller’s army, or their side? She still didn’t know what to call them, but the humans and Alavari against King Thorgoth were moving too. Horns were blaring, and a rainbow of flags waved.
A voice yelled out from Lakadara, which Fennokra realized came from a metal and wood pendant tied around her ear with a chain.
“Lakadara! Get your siblings out of there! You don’t need to fight them! This isn’t part of your bargain!”
Lakadara smiled without humor as she tapped a claw to the pendant. “I’m sorry Goldilora. I don’t think we’re getting out of this easily.”
“No you are not.” Velkandra wiped some dust out of her eye. “Last chance, sisters.”
Lakadara shook her head. Yolandra took a deep breath and prepared to breath fire.
Fennokra sighed and closed her eyes briefly. “Forgive us, mother.”
And the dragon siblings, the last of Telkandra’s brood, leapt at each other as the armies of Alavaria, Erisdale, Erlenberg and Lapanteria charged toward each other.
The final battle of the Fourth Great Hero War had begun.