Chapter 41

“Fuu…”, Amy breathed heavily, “fuuu..”

Amy knelt in front of her, quickest to the patient; she was desperately holding the neck of this dragon. Blood was spilling around Amy’s hands. Glyn looked into the dragon’s eyes to see the light leaving, she felt a lump in her throat, she felt an urge to vomit; and yet still she forced herself to act. Glyn grabbed Amy’s shoulder with a supernatural strength yanking her up and back. Glyn did not have the understanding and skill to heal such a grisly wound with magic alone. Crouching on her knees forcefully, her palm was firmly clamped on it: a chunk of flesh bitten, scooped out like a hot scoop through ice cream. Warm blood flowed around her hands, running through her pale fingers. She would never forget this feeling, this viscosity, this smell of iron. She could feel the pressure waning as the heart was only a few, just a few pumps more from stopping, like a car sputtering before it was completely dry. Supporting this young dragon in human form with her other hand, she held him. Her heart dropped when the wet warmth pulsing into her palm, weakened, then stopped; the ghastly pale color and pained expression began to brighten, red started to sprout on his cheeks. Glyn sighed in relief; they were not too late. The dragon coughed as his shriveled lungs began to fill with air; a groan escaped his lips. Glyn continued to hold him against her bosom. She could feel his warmth returning, she could hear Amy chanting behind her using the ancient tongue, she could feel the surge of magic so strong that it sent shivers up her spine.

Glyn looked down, his lips were moving, then a groan escaped, “Ugh…My mouth…it feels like the Mojave”.

“Water!”, Glyn raised her slender freckled neck, blazing red hair swaying in a ponytail as she yelled.

A murmur erupted; words were spoken. A cup appeared below her nose, the dragon gulped, and went to sleep with a gentle subtle sublime expression.

Hands and arms proliferated around Glyn as he was pulled from her warm embrace, set on a stretcher and sent to the field hospital. Glyn stood up, studying Amy’s face, looking for signs of displeasure or offense from pulling her so forcefully.

“I’m sorry. I…I almost let him die. I should have begun chanting first…it’s just I saw bleeding and I wanted to stop it…”, Amy held her head down dejectedly, as if she had committed some great sin.

“Fuu”, Glyn panted as she stood up, she would brush her knees off but she could feel the blood still coalescing, dripping from her fingertips, “No if you hadn’t done that he would have surely died, you did good Amy. I’m sorry I pulled you so hard, I should have been faster, been there first”.

Glyn looked around, off to the next crisis. Amy with her magic could heal most wounds. It was one of the many areas she was far superior to others in. It was the reason most of her party rarely used magic: why, when Amy could easily outperform any one of them; thus, they took up weapons, despite being from, The, magic guild, and focused their magic on body strengthening and enhancing. One frighteningly powerful mage, surrounded by ridiculously augmented, specced out battle mages, and an elf that held all vegetation to her whims like a succubus toying with their prey. Despite their genius level abilities, all other eight members were eclipsed by this one gentle, insecure, little human girl; although, due to her Amy improvement plan, it was only slight insecurity. Due to the oaths, they took, the words they recited in the original language, Glyn could feel a hint of Amy’s emotion no matter where she was. Llwengfaryn: companion, sister, brother, friend, they were all included in that one word. It felt light whenever it left Liam’s or Ian’s lips; but now she could feel it, feel the weight, feel Amy’s heart beating in her chest like it was her own. It was a serious bond that could not be undone, not by any magic or force of will. A physical exchange of hearts, induced, operated by magic. It was one of the strongest weapons they had against the black horde.

Glyn held her hand to her chest as Amy and her exchanged glances. Her black hair was disheveled, her skin stained with other’s blood, her clothes soaked with the essential essence of many patients. This seemingly fragile being, with clouded dark brown eyes, and a worried look. A human with the heart of a dragon. It was an existence that was like a cliche story, a prophecy foretold somewhere, in some legend, from some forgotten time. Yet in real life, it was more than what any assembly of words or minds could fathom. There were also other things to think about, to consider. What would happen when she wanted to assume her true form, not with soft human like flesh, but scales stronger than steel; it had never been attempted before. Conveniently, there were no problems; a relief to all.

A designated ‘Medical scout’, as they had just coined the phrase, came up breathing heavily, “I think that was the last critical case. We seemed to have gathered all the wounded”.

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Amy nodded and they walked towards the center. Glyn looked around, a few hours ago this area was a battlefield. Smoking piles of ash were scattered peppered on the ground. It had been razed the red earth was now scorched black. Overhead, a roar sounded, a wing leader flew, then two dragons launched off the ground and joined the formation. The reinforcements had come, a vast host of infantry hit the horde from behind. With the earthen barriers being raised in real time by the Alchemist Guild, on either side of the advancing army. Cleaving the masses in two. Barriers were built, and out of nothing a fortress had emerged.

“I love magic!”, Amy said still drained.

Glyn nodded. Indeed, this was a result of thousands of years refining, improving, evolving magical technology that could reshape the terrain. It was on a scale that even Glyn had not witnessed before. They climbed a hill that had been flat ground upon their invasion. Glyn’s knees, ankles, shoulders, everything creaked and groaned as she walked. They entered a building, a room, that prior to had not existed. A chair, A chair! Hurriedly Glyn strode quickly forward and sat down. Her body piled onto the chair forcefully, like potatoes spilling on the floor from a broken bag.

“Hugh!!!”, Glyn sighed.

“Good job you two!”, Liam said from across the table.

“So da yo!”, Toshiharu agreed, his armor giving his voice a metallic timbre.

“We begin the war briefing!”, Liam said with folded arms, hands clasped together.

The look on his face was focused, yet weary. Still very handsome, those blue eyes. Glyn’s breathing quickened, so dreamy!

“The front lines have quieted down”, Julius spoke from the other side of the table, “The impromptu fortress is holding well. Their waves haphazardly break on our walls”.

“Good. We’ll make this brief All of us need rest”, Liam began, “We begin the next phase. I will lead a delegation to the Il clan down below us. William, Julius, Camila, and Toshiharu will keep the line here while maintaining a path of retreat. We will rest four hours then the operations will resume”.

Everyone nodded with grunts, too tired to offer their voices. They had not chosen this spot lightly. There was an entrance here to the world below. Those gathered had dispersed to rest. Glyn glanced at Jeremy briefly. He wore a somewhat dejected look, constantly looking at Amy with wistful expressions. Amy groaned as they left, with not even time for an exchange of words; they separated. Too many things to say too little time. Glyn smirked at Jeremy’ pathetic appearance. He was a good man, he may have left her; but mental wounds, rabid emotions, unquenchable urges they were all things she had experienced in her eighty-three years of life. Who was she to judge someone trying to right their wrongs after only a year? When her own compulsions have lasted longer than some humans live. Glyn and Amy walked in silence. Glyn was comforted by Amy’s presence, even though she was eighty years old, she was still very young for a dragon, in many ways her maturity was at the level of a twenty-five-year-old human girl. In Arbell, in Draegoch, the unsettling feeling of being old lessened. But every time she went Earth it changed drastically. It was amazing what humans could do in a short span of time. It made her feel old, her heart shriveled and wrinkled like the skin of the humans her age.

Plun! Plun! Once again, they were underneath the bowels of the world. Glyn’s footsteps echoed in the chasms and crannies of this tunnel. Her mind weighed heavy, and her bundled emotions and tense energy seemed to add weight, making her steps heavy, her mind clouded. ‘Ahh, but there is Liam’, Glyn longingly, yearningly looked at his wide robes, wide shoulders. He was here as well, she had little to fear.

Ba-bump! Amy drew breath suddenly, gasping. Ba-dump! The rumble, the fight seemed to have intensified, up on the surface. But this sound came deeper, much deeper.

“Everyone double time!”, Liam said as his pace quickened.

With each hurried step the thuds grew louder. The enclave must be under assault, so the top forces were a distraction. Their real purpose must have been to crack the refuge like an egg, and slurp greedily at the yolk.

Supposedly this was a more direct route, indeed, it was more a tunnel than it was a natural passageway. The walls though smooth as if they were uncut, were flat and measured. Soon they came upon a dead end. Although she did not need the light the cold embrace of the stagnant air clinging to her skin was warmed by the torches used.

“Wait Whah!!! A fucking dead end!”, Shatira exclaimed.

“Relax, relax”, Liam said waving his dismissively.

“Young pixies…”, Chan the older male ‘llwdyr’ or uncle dragon muttered as he approached the wall.

Flame billowing off his lit torch, dancing off the rust-colored rock. He began to press, press, and press again. Then the sound of rock grinding against rock, as if holding an argument stifled the room, sending shivers up Glyn’s spine. Like nails on a chalkboard. The face of Chan brightened with a satisfied look as he turned towards the group as if he wanted praise and admiration. He had a cute if not soft personality. And like all dragons despite the gray streaks in his hair he was still rather handsome. Then his face crumpled, his expression became dark, very dark. Glyn could hear yells, screams, cries for help. The scene was utter chaos, ogres goblins and trolls wandered about to and fro, searching greedily for whom they could devour. In the wide-open secret valley was a tree of great height, somewhat comparable to her people’s own towers. This tree was nonexistent across the six towers, although records had been found of their existence from what she had seen while investigating history with Radim, examining old documents, also while hunting for the relics she used. It had been written as ‘Do Tou’ or tree of life. Although, ‘Do’ in the ancient tongue was also translated as magic as well as life. Around the tree and throughout the branches arrows were continuously shot. It was sea of monsters surrounding it breaking on it, like water breaks upon the shore.

Liam lifted up his hands in a wide gesture, Glyn could feel warmth begin to bloom in the air. The second phase had commenced.