“Gods damn it!” Connor said, “Dragons?”

The dark green reptiles were nearly invisible against the purple sky. They came from the north, flying not more than a hundred feet up and when they got close to the fleet, they dived. Each of them was as large as a house, with a wingspan that was as wide as the ship were long. They were covered in scales, like hundreds of well-crafted shields. When they were thirty or so feet above the ships, they would use their main weapon. Great gouts of fire issued from their large, fanged maws. One of the ships instantly burst into flame, fire touching every surface and burning the men standing on the deck to bone and ash.

“It’s a good thing I waited,” Nicholas said. He held out Soulbane and turned to Connor, “Make sure I’m not killed, eh?” With a broad smile, he summoned the spirit of his sword. The blessed blade vanished, and in its place, a giant, semi-translucent phoenix appeared in the sky above their ship.

The phoenix was as large or larger than the green dragons. She soared towards the dragons; her body enveloped in yellow-white flames. She illuminated the sea for miles in every direction and gave archers and cannoneers light by which to fight back. She attacked the nearest dragon, bathing the creature in fire. The dragon turned to this potential threat and laughed. His voice could be heard by all the ships in the fleet.

“You attack me? With fire?” The creature's evil laugh sent shivers down the spines of hundreds of sailors and soldiers. “I too breathe fire, and what kind of dragon would I be if I was susceptible to that for which I am best known?”

“You should have thought of that,” Connor said to Nicholas.

“Don’t distract me, I’m concentrating!”

The phoenix tucked her fiery wings and dove at the dragon, talons extended. His reptilian smile faded as they collided with thunderous force, the bird's lance-like talons punching through the dragon’s tough hide. She pecked with her long, sharp beak, stabbing deeply into the dragon’s neck. They began to fly upward together, corkscrewing through the air, blood raining down on the ship below and the black ocean all around.

“Curse you!” the dragon croaked. He couldn’t reach his attacker with his jaws, but he whipped with his tail and raked the feathers and flesh from the phoenix with his vice-like claws. The phoenix didn’t bleed, but through the blanket of flames that covered it, huge rends in the firebird’s body could be seen. The phoenix didn’t cry out in pain but relentlessly stabbed with its beak, tearing at the long slender neck, severing arteries, and causing blood to fountain from the multiple wounds. As the dragon was dying, his two partners came late to his rescue. Knowing that their fire would be useless, they snapped at the phoenix, ripping it with mighty jaws, and pulling the wings off with their claws.

When the phoenix had taken too much damage, it disappeared and Soulbane returned to its master’s hands. The dead dragon fell to the water’s surface and slowly sank. The remaining dragons looked around in confusion.

“What type of magic is this?” they demanded.

“Only Lord Callen was capable of such tricks! Whoever is responsible for our brother’s death will pay a thousandfold!”

The dragons roared in mourning and anger as they flew down to again attack the fleet of pirate hunters. Splitting up, they attacked the lead ship and in the middle of the cluster of ships. Once again, the night sky was lit by lances of fire. One of the dragons tried to torch the Dalmouth, but the flames were turned aside by some invisible barrier. Howling in outrage, he tried to circle around for another go when a powerful blast of wind caught his left wing and sent him tumbling. The dragon was able to right himself and flew in low, below the level of the top of the three-masted ships. Flapping his leathery wings, he hovered between the Dalmouth and the Northstar, looking for the source of the wind shear that saved the ship from incineration and nearly dumping him in the drink.

“There is a mage in this crew, somewhere on this ship!” he bellowed. Come forth and face me. We’ll find out if your power is truly enough to stop me from cooking the lot of you and eating you man by man.”

A young black woman broke from the crowd and stood on the deck nearest the waiting dragon. She had short, dark hair that was in loose curls, and she had flawlessly beautiful features. She was dressed in a flowing, white shirt and pants with light blue epaulets and cloak.

“I am Yochana, a daughter of the Uzor people. I will not allow you to harm these good men.”

“I am Othneg, former commander of Lord Callen’s third Death Wing. Though he is passed, I am still obliged to kill all humans and their allies. Say prayers to whatever god you worship, for today is your last.”

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“I think not friend dragon. Your kind has been separated from this world of Xoran for far too long. Humans are no longer just cattle waiting to be slaughtered and eaten.” She looked over at Ingram Jerome on the deck of the Northstar and he gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. She looked up at the dragon with a suspicious smile. He moved his head backward to suck in the air required for another blast of fire when she acted. Using her natural ability to manipulate air and wind, she caused a titanic downdraft to push down on the dragon.

Othneg was only a dozen feet off the ocean’s surface when a long serrated snout broke from beneath the waves. The whale exploded through the surface and into the air. It was easily a hundred feet long and it was able to grasp the dragon by the neck in a firm hold. Both bodies crashed back into the water and shot down in a heartbeat. There was a flood of air bubbles, but minutes went by and neither the dragon nor the whale was seen again.

The ships drifted close enough for Yochana to yell at Ingram. “What happened?”

“I asked her to take him down as far as she could. She took him so low that he either exploded from the pressure or drowned. Tough way to go.”

Michael used to reach into his satchel to fish out the items that he conjured, but he’d stopped that long ago. He conjured a dozen solid steel cannonballs and with his magic, launched them at the last dragon. He turned in the air and the cannonballs mostly struck his well-armored back, though a few punched small holes through the webbing on the dragon’s wings. The dragon let out a wail at the pain he felt and turned to confront the mage.

Before the beast could apply his breath weapon, Michael conjured a thick steel muzzle and flung it at the dragon, catching its jaws and clamping them shut. The dragon was furious and tried to pry the device from his mouth, just as manacles and chains were cast at his limbs. The dragon was drawn down till he was perched on the side of the ship, and seemed like he was helpless.

“You’re the last of your kind in all of Xoran. I’m not fond of killing, and I avoid it at all costs… but I’m not sure if it is safe to let you live, considering how much you hate all mankind…”

Michael's words were cut off as the dragon’s tail came around and struck him full across the head and torso. He was tossed across the deck where he impacted the far guardrail and rolled up in a heap. Sailors ran to him to see how badly he was hurt. A full minute went by, and he didn’t move a muscle.

The dragon pulled at the chains, ripping great holes in the deck where they had been anchored. When his hands were free, the dragon pulled and pulled at the muzzle till it came free. With an evil look in his wide, yellow, feline eyes, he belched a tornado of fire that washed across the whole deck and set everything in its wake aflame. Wood and cloth sails instantaneously caught fire, and men screamed as they were cremated alive.

Satisfied with the death he had wrought, the dragon launched himself into the air and flew over to the next ship in the convoy. With merciless glee, he set the deck on fire, killing men by the dozens. Connor was the better part of a mile away and watched as ship by ship, his fleet was being destroyed. Two of the dragons were already dead, but without Nicholas’ spirit animal, he wasn’t sure how they could stop the remaining dragon from destroying every ship in the fleet.

When the beast flew over to the Gold Coast Queen, he was met by an explosion. The concussive force was directed at the joint where his wing met the reptilian body. The wing was not completely severed, but the joint was ripped apart and bleeding. The dragon fell to the deck of the ship like a dropped anchor. He cried out in pain as the old man walked casually toward him.

“You killed my master. He had much more to teach me, and now he cannot. You must suffer!”

Luri Magda looked wild and unkempt under normal conditions. On the rolling deck of a ship at sea, he looked like a madman, who escaped from some institution. Long white hair framed his haggard face like a halo, his beard touching his upper chest. His face was mottled and had a grey pallor to it, his floor-length robe was a darker grey, baggy, and full of pockets and brass buttons. He began chanting in one of the many languages of magic, his deep voice booming over the sounds of battle and the ocean. In front of his chest, in the space between his gesticulating hands, he formed a glowing rune made of glowing red fire.

The dragon was coming to his senses and realized that the severe wound to his wing might be the least of his troubles. The human before him was a mage, and he could sense great power radiating from him. With a guttural growl, he reached out to slash the mage in two before freezing in mid-lunge. Luri had touched the glowing rune with his gnarled old hand, releasing the spell.

“Is frozen now. Dragon will not move for several hours,” he said to soldiers who were fanned out behind him.

With a nod and quick salute, the captain of the soldiers charged forward, sword in hand. He slashed at the outstretched claw and found it unyielding. The stony scales were completely resistant to sword, arrow, or axe. A dozen men attacked the dragon from every angle, but none of their efforts were rewarded with any success.

“Mage! Can you do the explosion again? Nothing else seems to harm this beastie.”

“Can not. I must relearn the spell after every use.” He looked at them like it was the most common sense response. “Step back, I try a new spell.”

The old mage again chanted the verbal part of his spell, the mystic rune carving itself in fire before their eyes. When the intricate insignia was complete, he held his hand up flat and slammed it against the rune. The energy released was invisible to the naked eye, but the effect was readily apparent. A horizontal cut appeared on the dragon’s chest, thin as a sword, but passing completely through the body and tail, cutting the creature completely in half. With his arm outstretched, he was off balance. The head and upper limbs fell forward, snout first onto the deck. The light left his eyes and he had become several tons of bloody, lifeless meat.