“Follow me,” said Azgal.

Fran held to the warmth of his new caribou parka, provided by the monks, and followed the dragon outside. The cave’s self-contained microclimate gave way to a freezing burst of cold and a deafening wind intent on pushing Fran into a fall of thousands of meters. He crouched and placed his gloved hand against the matte black mountain wall. He squinted his eyes. The cold didn’t get to his body through the parka but it hit his face like a thousand sharpened ice cubes.

Azgal sat down and waited for Fran to get used to the weather. When he did, he was finally able to take in the majesty of the stunning view. Azgal’s black mountain stood solitary among wide valleys and endless populous forests. To the northwest, Fran glimpsed other mountains in the distance, their peaks covered in snow. Three rivers flowed south from Azgadal and then broke in different directions. He knew that one of them eventually arrived at the docks of Kliogos. The other two flowed east and west, and included a few smaller towns on their way but skirted Imperial territory.

Fran felt a pang of shame at his ignorance of Melan geography. He needed to do something about it and the dragon had promised he would help if Fran won the battle for him.

“You’re looking too far away,” said Azgal.

“You’re not amazed by the view?” replied Fran. “We can see so much from here, and I don’t know what any of it means. Are those pyramids in the West, close to the horizon? And what’s the smoke out of that mountain?”

“That’s Anvil Mountain. The dwarves have been under siege for a hundred years. Nobody cares about them and neither should you. Our battle lies much closer.”

“You said the orcs would come from over there,” said Fran, pointing to the south and the east. In both directions, thick forests of pine and beech extended for miles until they stopped just about a hundred meters away from the palisade marking the limits of Azgadal. To the west, the city ended in docks and a vast lake. To the north stood the black mountain.

“I can’t see the orcs,” continued Fran. Thousands of small dots moved slowly in the city under him. Hundreds more arrived or left on the roads and rivers around the city, but the forest was a calm sea of brown wood and green leaves.

“I don’t expect you to see the orcs, Dhenn,” said Azgal. “But I can see them just fine. They’re getting closer every day. A handful of scouts and impatient warriors reached the edge of the forest in the last couple of days. I noticed them, but the city’s guards didn’t. Make of that what you will.”

Fran tried to focus his eyes on the closer parts of forest, all in vain. The sea of trees was too vast for a human being’s sight.

“How many?” asked Fran.

“A full horde. So about 8,000, maybe 10,000. Every single one of them is armed to the teeth and eager to spill blood and loot gold. Can you see the ones on the other side of the lake?”

“No. All I see is a marsh.”

“Exactly. Not a single orc there, but a few human barbarians hide ready to strike. Perhaps a few dozen. Too few for anything big. They must be mercenaries hired to perform a decoy attack and frighten us from placing our guards where they’re most needed: Against the orc horde charging through the south gate. What do you think, Dhenn? How will you win this battle?”

Fran’s breath turned into white vapor when he spoke.

“I see an easy victory, Azgal. Right now, the forests reach almost to the edge of the city. An invading horde would be scaling the city’s palisade before you even notice. Once they’re in, you wouldn’t be able to defend the city without burning it yourself. But you can prevent the attack. Flap your wings and fly over the forests today. Burn every tree to the south and the east of the city until the fire is visible from a hundred miles away. It doesn’t matter if the orcs aren’t that close yet and you don’t kill them. The orcs will realize they’ve lost the element of surprise. The scorched plain will allow your guards to notice approaching enemies ten leagues away. The orcs will realize that charging through the plain would be suicidal. You’d fall over them from the skies and massacre them at will. It’s a suicide attack, a bad bet. The orc horde will disperse and seek another target. Battle? Won. Casualties? Zero.”

The dragon stood motionless.

“I asked how you’d win the battle, not how you’d prevent it. The battle must take place.”

“You want it to happen.”

“The battle must take place. Orcs are reckless. They couldn’t come up with a plan this complex on their own. Charging forward is all they know, not stealth approaches and decoy attacks. A visionary strategist designed this attack and signed up the orcs and the barbarians. Whoever it was, others can’t be far behind, and that I can’t allow..If the powers of this continent start doubting my ferocity, I’ll end up fighting a truly difficult battle, one I can’t even see coming. Too dangerous. I’d rather fight this one now. I must send a message. Tell me again, how will you win this battle?”

“I’m not a strategist. I’m no one.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Fran. You just brought me news that my mortal shell is safe for the next Terran year. That question has weighed heavily on my mind. But now, thanks to you, I’m free from that burden. I told you the cube was right to bring me to you. Now you must complete this second task. You’ll win this battle and I’ll let you rule Azgadal in my name.”

“I can’t stay here,” said Fran. He took a few steps closer to the dragon. The winds didn’t feel so dangerous anymore, and the morning view was breathtaking. The sun and the moon hanging over the rivers and the forested hills were more beautiful than anything on Earth.

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“There’s no need for you to be the mayor of Azgadal. You can delegate to your friends if you like. Think about it. You could use the city’s resources for your quest, although I insist that the salvation of Terra is a lost cause. All I ask is that you act as my representative and place loyal people in control of the city government. Loyal to you and me. Leadership might be new to you, but the battle is a good place to develop the skill. Remember that in Mela, Terrans become what they do. Leading the forces of Azgadal to victory will literally make you a capable leader.”

“That sounds extremely dangerous, Azgal. And so does ruling your city. The blood monks are scary, and I can tell you’re doing this because you are concerned about them,” said Fran.

The dragon laughed in Fran’s mind.

“You’re absolutely right they worry me! Their Archbishop is obsequious to the extreme, but he’s got ideas. Once, he hinted at the possibility of donating my blood for one of their rituals. I gave him a response he’ll never forget, but his arrogance reminded me I need to be more careful. It’s easy for me to forget that humans can be dangerous, Dhenn, and keeping tabs on them is such a waste of time. I can fly hundreds of miles every day, feel great power running through my veins with every flap of my wings. That’s all I want from life. I’ll let you and others take care of the rest. You’re a good guy, Fran, almost a paladin, but I can see your reticence. Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your time. Let’s return to my cave and I’ll show you. I possess magic items that will make your heart skip a beat. They’ll change your life if you just win this battle for me.”

Back inside, gold coins, bullion, amulets and jewels of all kinds shone and sparkled. Azgal ignored them and instructed Fran to pick up a bottle half-buried in silver coins.

“Drink from that bottle and you’ll be the most convincing man in the world. Drop its content over your eyes and you’ll read a book in a minute. Use it to rub your ears and nobody in the city will hide their conversations from you.”

“I do want to learn more about this world.”

“And you don’t have much time, do you? Too much to do, too little time. The next treasure should help with that too.”

Fran followed the dragon’s instructions again. This time, he took a ring with a light blue stone. The stone seemed to hold clouds inside it, a whole miniature sky.

“Breaking that ring while you say certain words will unlock your affinity with the air elementals. In your case, I think that means you’ll be able to fly to some degree. Travel faster. Remember, I’m not promising that you’ll fly like a dragon. Air elementals have always been bitter enemies of mankind. In this world, gravity didn’t just happen.”

Fran nodded, then awaited new instructions. Now, he had to dig up several items from a mountain of gold taller than three men. Two gifts: the first one was a sword in a sheath of gold. The second one was a blue armor set, with a breastplate, greaves and a full shield, also decorated in a light blue painting of rolling sea waves, drawn in the simple but alluring style of Ancient Greece.

“A great hero wore that armor. He paid a hundred thousand gold coins to buy it from a legendary smith in the forest of áuSumüs. The sword will help you strike your enemy and eats armor like an ogre eats gnomes. The shield won’t break no matter how strong the strike is. The armor is a hundred times harder than any you could buy. However, these items will only serve a paladin. Once you accept them, you can never decline a request for justice. Think about it. The superstitious folk who once lived in these lands considered me a calamitous threat even though I never ate a single one of them. The hero stopped overnight on his way to volcano country and they asked him to defeat Azgal the evil dragon. You can imagine the rest.”

Fran was amazed by the items and couldn’t wait to use them all, oath of justice or not.

“These would make winning the battle much easier.”

“No. I could give these items to anybody. You must win the battle first. Show me what you’re worth.”

“I could fail.”

“If you fail, then I was wrong to let the monks convince me to protect this city. I’m here to dissuade attacks with my mere presence, not to complicate my own life fighting battles to protect insects. I love life as a dragon more than I ever loved being human, Dhenn. I can’t waste my life serving others. I’m still a bit of a human inside, but I’m a dragon most of all. I wouldn’t miss the city that much. Everything I need exists within myself.”

----------------------------------------

The archbishop wanted to meet Fran urgently at the behest of Azgal, but Fran dismissed his creepy envoys in their dark hoods. He’d meet Sancho and Seros first.

His friends welcomed him with huge smiles. They rested in a big improvised hospital room on one of the upper floors of the Unholy Cathedral.

“These freaks don’t like it up here. They explode under sunlight or something, it’s terrible,” said Seros.

“You can tell they’re not used to healing people too. They had no idea whether their rituals would work. I can see why they’d think I’m a hard case,” said Sancho, pointing at his own skeleton body. “But they didn’t know what to do with Seros either. And there’s not a friendly one in the group. I think we need to get out of here the moment we win that battle.”

“Are we still on for the battle?” The lion spoke like a child asking whether Christmas had been canceled.

“We're on. I feel uneasy that Azgal is so eager to make me his right-hand man, but I guess he doesn’t have a better option. And it's hard to understand his thinking sometimes. It really is like you said, Seros: He became the things he is in Mela. He speaks of his humanity like a distant dream.”

“You said he’s been here for five years straight. That’s incredible, I never heard anything like that.”

Sancho stood and looked out of a large triangular window. The city bustled with life, and thousands flowed in and out of the main square, unaware that their lives might change forever in the next few days.

“Are we going to tell them?” he asked.

“We can’t,” replied Fran with a knot in his throat. “I feel guilty about it, but we can’t do anything. If we tell the city that an orc horde hides in the forest, they’ll run out in panic by the thousands and the orcs will massacre them on the road. Whoever is behind the attack would retreat in order, learn from their mistakes and return with a better plan. And Azgal would hate us for spoiling the battle. He says he doesn’t eat humans, but that doesn’t mean he won’t kill us.”

“I’d love to talk to the dragon,” said Sancho. “And I’m surprised you’re not eager to meet him, Seros.”

“Why would I be?” asked the lion. His torso was covered in white linen, but he moved normally.

The necromancer looked around. The large hall was empty. He lowered his voice anyway.

“If he’s telling the truth, he was a founding member of the New Alliance. And they might have tried to kill him back on Terra. Did you ever hear any rumors about the founders? That Japanese woman, the Nigerian men?”

Seros shook his head.

“I wonder if that’s even the same group," he said. "And I stopped caring about the New Alliance anyway. I have a new purpose thanks to you guys. The priestess gave us more useful information than the New Alliance ever did. Let’s get this decisive victory in the sack, get paid with sweet magic objects, and join the others in Kliogos. We must travel to the borders of Mela.”

Fran nodded. The prospect of that adventure beat inside him like a second heart. Perhaps he and his friends would be the ones to discover Mela’s secrets after all. And save billions of lives.

A door creaked in the distance, followed by the slow steps of two hooded creatures.

“Their Archbishop must be getting nervous,” said Fran. “Let’s meet him and plan the battle out. I can’t wait to tell Mr. Important he’ll be taking orders from me.”