Hattie initially wanted to follow Morgan, but after making a panicked call to Goldilora, she realized she had to stay near the cavern ceiling.
The remaining two dragons, both around the same size, were still locked in their turning battle. How was she going to be able to identify the friendly one? There was an idea that continued to surface in her mind, but she really did not want to resort to that.
She did notice that the dragons were flying slower now. Their circling dance winding down in tempo. Their wings beat more heavily and with far less force. Two monsters stalking one another in the battle-clashed air rather than a whirlwind of scales and wings.
Hattie blinked. Was it just her or had they noticed her? It couldn’t be. The pair were just noticing the absence of their siblings—
Golden eyes flashed. The half-troll swallowed as her gaze met with the maroon-sun glint of one of the dragon’s pupils. Another flash, the second dragon had met her gaze. Both continued to circle one another.
They had noticed her. They just weren’t acting. Why? Sweaty palms gripped Silver Star.
“Silver, they’re not attacking me because they’re in a stalemate, right?”
You are absolutely correct. What are you thinking, young Hattie? The staff’s tone was matter-of-fact. The slightest hint of worry expressing itself in the question it asked and how Silver Star’s voice curled her name.
The half-troll leant forward, allowing herself to fly closer towards the dragons. Every limb of her body seized as tightly as she squeezed Silver Star. She was just glad that wands didn’t feel that kind of pain
“I’m going to have to bait them.”
That sounds incredibly ill-advised, even if I do follow your reasoning. I do not, however, have any other good suggestions. The staff chuckled dryly. It’s why I didn’t stop you from flying up. We seem to be practically bouncing betwixt and between no good choices.
“Yes. Has anybody mentioned you’re far more talkative than Ivy’s Sting?”
Yvonne did many times. Now, I do recommend that if you’d like to bait them, you should mention who you are. If the disagreement between the siblings is what we suspected, then only one of them should actually try to attack you.
Hattie nodded. “I agree. Of course, that’s not a good thing, but well, as you said, no good choices.” She took a deep breath. “Hey! I’m Hattie Longarch. I’m the one your mother wanted to kill. I have no quarrel with you, but well, I’m here.”
Neither dragon broke from their paths. Whenever Hattie caught sight of their golden eyes, though, she could see them narrow.
“Look, we’ve all lost enough! Your mother. My parents. We don’t have to do this! You can fly away, save your lives! Please! I don’t want to fight you!”
Hattie hovered in place, but the dragons were circling closer. She wasn’t sure which one had begun first, but they both continued to watch her.
No, one of them was watching her. The other was watching their sibling. The dragon watching her wasn’t just glaring at her. He was also trying to observe his opponent, but her provocation was working.
Hattie raised Silver Star. “Please! If you want to leave, all I need to do is mark you in friendly colors and we can be on our separate ways. You don’t even need to fight!”
“Makentra! This is our last chance!” Fennokra growled. The dragon that was watching her sibling was nearly out of breath and that added to the desperation in her tone. “Let it go! We should be trying to live, not killing for the sake of it!”
Makentra faced Fennokra, smoke pouring from his nostrils. “She helped kill Caldra! Her master killed our mother! And what would we live for anyway? To be subservient to these ground-pounders or needing to negotiate with these ants? That is not to live as a dragon!”
He whipped around and charged at Hattie.
Snapping off a smell, Hattie sent a bolt of magic. Makentra ducked, but she’d planned for him to do so and it hit Fennokra, turning her blue.
There, now get out of here! Silver Star’s mental voice was silent, and yet it propelled her into a dive, trying to get away from the furious dragon.
The whoosh of falling air didn’t shield the horrible roaring sound of the dragon’s fire. Hattie, screaming from panic, somehow used her magic to put up a shield. It hissed and crackled, drops spilling over the blue barrier. She chanced a glance over her shoulder.
Two dragons now chased her. One trying to catch her in her dive, the other pursuing. The ground was fast approaching.
Touching her communication mirror, Hattie thought of Goldilora. “Goldilora! I’m afraid I have a bit of a surprise!”
***
Frances, riding hard toward the Erisdalian vanguard, just managed to keep herself from spurring her horse on too hard. The magical fire and bolts were now being hurled from the battle between Thorgoth’s elite guard and the Erisdalians was already so ferocious, stray magic thrown aside was slamming into allied and enemy formations.
Keeping her hand mirror held to her ear, Frances asked, “Are we sure that Thorgoth is there?”
“We haven’t spotted him, but his banners are there and what remains of his guard are there! We’re going to be fine, they’ll be reserves to counter if it is a trap,” Timur said, his voice hoarse from passing orders.
“Got it. Recommend to Martin to have Mara commit the Erisdalian second division! The vanguard is looking like it’s going to break!” Frances closed her mirror and continued to ride, tearing past friendly regiments as she did so.
Her mirror vibrated and Frances pulled it out. “Frances speaking.”
“It’s Goldilora. Frances! Your girls have flown up to try to mark our friendly dragons!”
Frances almost lost grip of the reins. “My girls did what?”
“I know, but they’re succeeding! Two dragons are marked as friendly! Tell every mage and company you meet to not shoot the dark-blue dragons!”
“But—What—” Frances looked up and found her throat choked by the sight.
Hattie was diving as fast as she could, pursued by one of the purple dragons. A dark blue dragon raced after her, snapping at its target’s tail.
The trio were slowing though as Hattie pulled out of the dive, gaining a momentary burst of speed on the heavier and slower dragons. Her apprentice now was casting spells backwards against her pursuer, which didn’t hit, but it certainly helped to slow the dragon down.
The bigger problem was much much closer to the army and was still in mid-dive.
***
“Lakadara is the one with the slightly ragged wing!” Yolandra howled.
Morgan rolled her eyes. “I can’t tell which of these are the dragon! You do realize you’re all purple and scaly right?”
“In fact I do, but do you have any better suggestions?” Yolandra shot back.
Morgan adjusted her grip around Yolanda’s scales. Lakadara and Yolandra were still falling, trying to clamp each other’s jaw around each other’s necks. Their claws wrestling with one another and wings flailing as they fell. It wasn’t a straight-down fall, their wings saw to that, but it was definitely falling with some side-to-side motion.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Beneath them, and increasingly noticing the battle above, was the army of Erlenberg and the Lightning Battalion. They were approaching, really, really fast. If they hit it…
Morgan blinked. She had an idea, just not a very good one.
“The ground.They’re going to have to break apart. When they do, you need to identify which one and I can hit it!” she exclaimed.
“That’s your plan? What if they don’t break apart?” Yolandra asked.
“Do your sisters want to die that much? I know Lakadara doesn’t for sure!” Morgan retorted. She narrowed her eyes. The dragons were thrashing even fiercer as they continued to plunge. “See? They’re going to break apart soon!”
“Alright, but are you sure the ground-pounders below won’t shoot at us?” Yolandra asked.
“Trust me! Hattie has already called our allies to tell them not to shoot you! But we need to mark Lakadara! Be ready!” Morgan hissed. The ground was approaching fast. She could already see soldiers scattering to clear a space.
For a deadly moment, Morgan wondered if Lakadara and Velkandra would really break apart. They were so close to death.
At the last minute, the two dragons wrenched apart from one another. Wings unfurling, blasting the ground with air so fiercely that it ripped banners from flagpoles and knocked soldiers to the ground.
“The one on the left is Lakadara!” Yolandra roared.
Morgan raised Lightbreaker and screamed out a high pitched note. Blue bolts weaved out from the air, converging on Lakadara and turning her blue. The elder dragon blinked looking toward Yolandra. The pair were now flying right over the Erisdalian army, turning towards Velkandra.
“What was that?” Lakadara asked.
“They’re marking us as friendly, whatever that means,” said Yolandra.
Lakadara’s massive golden eyes blinked and she fixed her gaze on Morgan, who was pulling out her communicator. “Wait! Morgan, there has to be another way!”
“Do you know one?” Morgan asked, her tone pleading. Limbs shivering from the cold as she hung on for dear life.
Lakadara glanced back at Velkandra, who was on an intercept angle to the pair. She was breathing in. Letting out a groan, she nodded. “No. Do it.”
“Lightbreaker, help me transmit through this.” Morgan touched Lightbreaker to the communication mirror around her neck. Her sonorous voice soared over the allied armies, and into the different communicator devices.
“All allied forces! Friendly dragons have been marked blue! Fire at will on the purple dragons! Fire at will on the purple dragons!”
Velkandra hissed, mouth open to spit her venom. That hiss was instantly drowned out by a thunderclap. A bright blue streak of lightning smashed into the dragon, throwing her off balance. The dragon flailed and torqued away, turning from her intercept course. Only for a dark blue lance of magic to slam into Velkandra. The dragon’s scales sparked as musket-balls cracked against them.
Frances’s voice crackled into Morgan’s communicator. “Good work. But you and I are going to have a talk, young lady!”
“Sorry mom!” Morgan raised Lightbreaker and, screaming out a note, whipped it across. A beam of light smacked into the dragon, causing her to drop even more. Blinking blearily, Velkandra swayed, wings flapping slowly from the repeated blows.
“Velkandra!” Makentra swooped in. He grabbed his faltering sister and pulled her up.
“Makentra! Surrender now! We don’t have to do this ” Fennokra howled, flying above them, Hattie flying beside her.
Makentra narrowed his eyes at his sister, before glancing at Velkandra. The dragon, shaking her head, beat her wings, managing to fly under her own power. “Never you traitors!”
Lakadara took a deep breath. “So be it.” Eyes wide, she spat out a jet of flame, hitting Makentra. The dragon howled, turned around, only to be hit by another spell from below. Velkandra fired a jet of flame herself, but a well-aimed arrow slammed into her side and exploded, fired by Anriel.
More spells were hammering the two purple dragons. They tried to bear up, but spells continued to hit them. The musket fire didn’t stop either and neither did Lakadara’s fire attacks.
“Wait, Lakadara, you’ll kill them!” Yolandra wailed.
The eldest of Telkandra’s brood ceased her flaming breath and fixed Morgan and Yolandra with a glance, so filled with anguish that it nearly petrified them both.
“I know, but they chose to try to kill us.”
Hattie now added her magic, firing off lightning to burn away chunks of Velkandra’s wings. Morgan, after blinking away tears, used Lightbreaker to fire another beam of light.
Slowly, like paper embers burning in the air, the two dragons flew lower and slower. Screaming as they died from the weight of fire that brought them crashing down. Hardened scale gave way as magic and mundane in concert from an entire allied army ripped them from the sky.
Their flaming, burning bodies smashed into the Alavari that they had allied with. A mass of broken wings, chipped and smashed scales plowed through the ranks of the enemy troops. Then, they were still.
Morgan couldn’t see Yolandra’s face, but she saw the tears that the wind carried past her. “I’m sorry. I’ll get off. You can leave now.”
“I know.” The dragon’s body thrummed underneath Morgan’s legs as she took a deep breath. “But Thorgoth still lives, doesn’t he?”
Morgan blinked. “Yes? But that’s our problem, you don’t have to worry about that.”
Yolandra nodded slowly, but as they gained altitude, Fennokra flew in beside them with Hattie, who was now clinging onto her back. They were soon followed by Lakadara.
“We just defeated his two loyal dragons, Morgan. What happens if he wins?” Fennokra asked.
Hattie swallowed. “I mean, you could escape—”
“We’d be right where we started. No, we made a choice for a future and we need to follow it through.” Lakadara glanced at her siblings. “Fennokra, Yolandra, are you with me?”
Fennokra flashed a wry smile. “I should have been with you from the start. Can you forgive me, sister?”
Lakadara grinned. “I’d forgiven you long ago. Yolandra?”
Morgan held her breath as the youngest living member of Telkandra’s brood frowned. From the height they flew, the sound of cannonfire and the screams of battle were dimmed. It was like the group was flying in their own little world, lit by the shafts of light that filtered through the cavern roof.
“First, I’m sorry. I don’t remember if I apologized before, but I am so sorry. And I agree with you. The winds have chosen where to carry us. It would be too hard to change direction.” Yolandra curled her lips and glanced over to Morgan. “Where do we hit?”
Morgan swallowed and pulled up her communicator. “Goldilora?”
“Morgan! Are you alright?” stammered the ogre.
“Hattie and I are alright. I just want to say that we have three dragons, and we need targets.”
***
“Well that worked out better than I could have ever expected,” said Martin, eyes wide.
Staying at an impossible high height, the three dragons were circling above the Alavari army. Breaths of fiery venom rained down on the Alavari army. They were not accurate shots at all. Many of the dragon’s shots missed the formations.
But even the missed shots were effective at causing Alavari soldiers to look up and run. The already halted advance of the enemy army ground lost even further momentum. On the far left, Martin could in fact see the Lapanterian and Erlenbergian forces advancing into their foes, driving the soldiers back.
The army’s center with the Lightning Battalion was holding and that was just with their vanguard. They still had uncommitted reserve troops and the main body which was under Elizabeth’s watchful command.
It was the right that Martin tried not to stare at too hard. The smoke from the gunpowder was gone, blasted away by the battle that had erupted there.
No further confirmation was needed as to where King Thorgoth had gone to. Martin could see the crowned figure of the Alavari king locked in a duel, surrounded by a corona of violet magic.
Facing him, surrounded by patches of scorched earth, was Edana the Firehand.
***
A few moments earlier…
Initially, Edana had charged in along with the other mages and Ginger’s escorts, but as it tended to happen, the sheer heat of the flames that she summoned made the others put some distance around her.
Even so, she did her best to stay near Ginger, who, along with Leila and Jessica, fought ferociously with Thorgoth’s guards. Although magic-less, Ginger was maneuvering her horse between cavalrymen, trusting her escort to protect her as she hacked and slashed with her sword. Behind Edana, Igraine fired arrows into the enemy ranks from her horse.
“Martin’s committing the second division! We need to hold on a little longer!” Nicole bellowed.
“Understood, does anybody see that bastard?” Edana asked, looking around. Her dragon-helm had well-sized holes for her eyes, but with all the smoke and chaos, it was hard to get a good idea of her surroundings.
A magically-magnified chuckle echoed around them all, filling Edana’s ears and making her clench Poker.
“Edana Windwhistler The Firehand. Lady Fatbubbler, Skinmelter, the Grandmaster of the White Order. It is good to finally meet you.”
Dismounting from her wide-eyed horse, Edana scowled, even though she knew the armored figure that had appeared out of the smoke ahead of her couldn’t see her expression. She couldn’t see his expression either. After Forowena had wounded him, it appeared that Thorgoth wasn’t stupid enough to leave his helm open in the battle. He wore a full helm with a single slit. His fake White Crown of Alavaria sat atop of his helmet. In one hand he held a wand, in the other, he had a sword. Now that she was closer to the king, she could see the gold gilding that ringed the edges of his plate armor, a fortune in decoration.
“Thorgoth. Demon King. I have a lot to make you pay for,” said Edana. She began to hum, her power building at the tips of her fingers.
“Oh you could be more specific. Was it for how I had King Oliver assassinated? Or was it due to my meddling in Erlenberg? Perhaps it was for having Erlenberg invaded and nearly destroyed. Setting things up for Allaniel to be killed?” Thorgoth snapped his fingers, somehow achieving the feat with his guantleted hands. “Oh! I know. You’re mad at me for breaking your daughter at Delbarria and for starting this war that has taken so much of your and her life.”
Edana let the king monologue. She was busy preparing her spells, humming to summon the right conditions for her magic. Thankfully her beloved Igraine had seen the confrontation unfolding and was screaming at everybody to run. Only managing a brief longing glance to her wife, Edana turned her attention right back to the monologuing King of the Alavari.
“Perhaps.”
“You know, you really should be thanking me,” said Thorgoth suddenly.
Edana blinked, her mind coming to a brief halt. “Thanking you?”
“If I hadn’t started the war, you would have never met your daughter. You would never have met Frances and she would have been in that world, forever. You would just be the Firehand of Erisdale. A human weapon. A murderer.”
Edana raised Poker. “Wow, you are really like your son. You both love to talk.” Before he could get another word in, the Firehand of Erisdale roared and the world burst into flame.
***