Mani had heard of war, and had seen a few bloody fights between dragons in his time. He had also been raised in a country that was universally acknowledged as “dragon heavy”, whose numbers of large flights filled the skies and were renown the world over.

What he had not ever witnessed was the overwhelming sight of dragons massing over the air off the Peveillin Cliffs, just to the north of where he was standing on the docks of the ancient port town of Meintresse. There were thousands of them, possibly ten thousand or more. Likely, more.

“Quite a sight,” Doctor Worthan said. He spoke softly, and sounded grim.

It had only been a little over two days since the meeting with Consort ver Kleelan at the Admiralty’s offices, but that already felt like it had happened a month prior. Once an accord had been reached, Admiral Leonteinparre the Elder had dispatched scouts to verify what they could of Consort ver Kleelan’s intelligence, led by a quiet Foösh, who could fly higher and faster than any of Watt’s own scouts. His role, accordingly, was to help them get in and get out alive. It came as no surprise to anyone when he returned actually carrying one scout slung over his back and the other clutched in his talons, both injured by gunfire, but at least alive enough to report that, indeed, the emperor’s forces were incoming and even included two urshvalkins bringing up the rear. The details Consort ver Kleelan had written out for the Admiralty had been accurate down to the numbers.

Which meant Agadart was currently on her way back to the Isle of Watt, but held prisoner by Emperor Rhezv himself.

Ro had sworn Mani to secrecy about ver Kleelan’s wild claims, but had hardly needed to. Mani figured out a long time ago how seriously the citizens of Watt took their legends, and how dearly they hoped for the return of a queen. To be told that their queens had been unmanifested and living idly in Kaaltendt for centuries would come across as mockery to them.

Personally, Mani thought it made sense. If the revered Princess Beatra had escaped at all, the only two places she might have been welcomed were Kaaltendt or Akanata, and he sincerely doubted she would have gone to his homeland simply because of the troubled relationship Watt and Akanata had shared back then. They had never gone to war, but there were a few times over the past few thousand years when they had come close to it. Given that the Kaaltendt queen dragon at the time, Queen Viridis, was even a cousin by marriage, it made sense she would be the one Princess Beatra would turn to.

With all of Consort ver Kleelan’s military intelligence confirmed, it seemed the entirety of the Isle of Watt had burst forth to ready for battle. Ro had finally convinced his sister and the rest of the Admiralty that waiting onshore to be overwhelmed was a bad plan, and that their best defense would be a hasty yet solid offense. If they could sink a number of the emperor’s ships, at least that would lessen the numbers when the battle eventually, inevitably, came to ground. No one was under the delusion that the mighty armada of Iskaryyva could be stopped, not with the sheer number of dragons and ships on the way, but the hope was to lessen the impact of invasion and reduce their numbers to something they could possibly fight. At least for a little while.

Mani cursed his great-aunt for choosing to keep Akanata out of the fight. It would come to her eventually, but she was an old queen who preferred Akanata’s storied tradition of isolationism and failed to comprehend how power hungry Emperor Rhezv actually was. The numbers and speed of her military flights would have been helpful.

He looked up and saw Ro, their bond dialed down for his sake. If Ro got injured, Mani would still feel it, but not as acutely as if their bond was completely open.

Fly safe, beloved, he sent up as a prayer.

Stay safe yourself, Ro sent back aggressively, and Mani just laughed at him. There would be no safety for either of them any time soon.

Ro, at least, was stationed over the coastline. He had been given command of three additional wings, two of which were mostly made up of civilians of fighting age. They were not professional military fliers but they were protecting their homeland, which would count for a lot once the battle got to them.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The navy ships of Watt that were not already several miles out as a primary attack force were coming around and heading northwest. Watt’s ships were smaller than the Imperial Navy they were facing off against, but that made them faster and more maneuverable. If dragons were not factored into the fight, Mani thought the two navies would be evenly matched despite Watt’s lesser numbers.

“Are you certain you want to assist the medical unit?” Doctor Worthan asked, breaking him out of his reverie.

Mani nodded. “I’m not going to be much use anywhere else, and I at least can help with basic draconic medical care.” His role as Matrica was not a wartime one, was never meant to be. He had given an Akanatan prayer of victory to Ro’s primary flight before takeoff, which at least was well received, but it was the most he could do. He had managed not to tear up while giving it, which he thought was a personal triumph.

“Sadly, there will be enough work to go around.” Worthan turned from their spot on top of an observation tower to work his way down the stairs. A series of medical tents had been set up on the fields just past the crest of the shore, and within sight of the famous emerald green cliffs in the distance. There were few tents set up for human patients, since most of the human fighters for the first wave were on the ships heading to battle. If they got injured, they would be lucky to even make it back to shore. There were a few smaller dragons standing around, draped with vests carrying the green, five pointed star marking them as a medical flight. Compared to the number of fighters in the air, there seemed very few of them.

The first twelve hours of battle were distant, marked by muffled explosions and a few plumes of smoke. A few dragons limped in with bullet wounds, and one had a wing severely injured by a cannon ball, half-carried by two members of the medical flight. Mani mostly helped prepare for what they all knew was coming by moving supplies around and cutting large bolts of linen and cotton into bandages.

“Wow,” said a young nurse next to him, looking up. Mani followed her gaze and saw Foösh gliding by like a flying mountain, three regular sized Wattish dragons in formation around him, looking tiny in comparison. He dipped low and with a single, long sweep of his gigantic wings turned upwards and shot into the sky. Even as far away as he was, the backwash of wind sent tent doors flapping all over the field. The Wattish dragons trailing him visibly stumbled as they tried to follow.

No one knew where Consort ver Kleelan was, though. He had slid out of the Admiralty’s offices the same day his reports about Emperor Rhezv’s forces were confirmed without a backward glance, which once again infuriated Ro, but there was little they could do about it. Part of the agreement was that Foösh would help with scouting, and ver Kleelan would help with absolutely nothing whatsoever because he was going to focus on finding and rescuing his niece. Mani hoped the man had a chance in hell of saving Agadart.

Everyone slept in short sprints, too anxious to really sleep at all. The battle continued as evening crept up and slipped into night. The lights of the battle moved in from the edge of the horizon to become a field of gunfire and cannon blasts and ships on fire. The number of wounded dragons, some with fierce burns along their bellies and tails, grew from a trickle to a steady stream.

Late into the night, he felt Ro’s consciousness brush up against his. He followed the tug out to a landing field that was mostly empty. Ro landed with a soft thud that belied his impressive size.

Your worrying is distracting me, he scolded.

“Liar, you just wanted to come see me,” Mani replied, rubbing the soft tip of his nose.

Ah, that too, Ro sent with a bob of his head.

“How goes it?”

He received feelings of dread and hopelessness, followed by apology.

“No no, I’d rather you be honest with me.”

Their numbers are too great. I don’t think we are making a dint. They just keep coming. Ro sat down, tucking his wings close. I don’t think I will get another chance to get away. He looked up, stretching his neck to look into the distance. Promise you will retreat when the time comes. I will follow, but don’t stay for me.

“I promise,” Mani said, meaning no such thing. He would stay wherever Ro was, and they both knew it.

Ro huffed. I have not seen nor heard from the feral.

Ro refused to use ver Kleelan’s name when he was in dragon form, and it was delightfully petty of him. Mani snickered. “You know he’s not actually feral?”

Ro sniffed in disdain, making his opinion clear. He looked up again, his emotions colored by regret. I must go.

“I love you. Please come back to me.” He hugged Ro’s face, touching their foreheads together. He stepped backwards until he was clear, and with one last look at Mani, Ro jumped into the skies.

Only minutes later, the entire field was overrun with wounded being brought back from the ever-encroaching front lines.