• Grace emerged from the keep as the fire spread up the mountainside. She looked sharply for her husband, dodging sideways as an enemy craft flew by, streaming a line of fire that ran close along her back.
    She would have retaliated, but sighted Pracksus amid the valley where he slumped from the mountains west. He was injured, bleeding out along the rocks- pinned with the suppression of enemy fire.
    Towards him she flew, carried by the forceful winds of the north.
    The enemy was everywhere. Even the larger ships returned to their previous positions, delivering streams of fire that devastated the surface.
    Landing at her husband’s side, she helped to push him up from the earth.
    “Grace,” he bled from his mouth as his words came dryly. He could barely see her, but he knew she was there.
    “Can you fly,” she asked quickly.
    Pracksus attempted to spread his wings, but in doing so he fell, his bones cracking where they were broken at his sides.
    His wounds bled heavily and his strength had already left him. Even the light in his eyes began to dim.
    “Hurry.” Grace pushed him to his feet. “You’ll die if you stay here!”
    “Go.” He coughed weakly. “Grace, for Aerin… you have to go.”
    “I’m not leaving you,” she insisted, “we’re in this together, remember?”
    Realizing the life of his beloved was now as endangered as his own, he made an effort to lean against her, relying on her strength to remain upright.
    “I’ve got you,” she assured him, moving forward. “Just stay with me.”
    Pracksus caught sight of a pair of approaching gun ships, arcing his neck to release a stream of white-lit fire.
    The effort caused such pain he was forced to remain still; both ships destroyed in the blast.
    “We have to hurry,” Grace warned, sighting others that flew nearby towards them, fighters gathering around them.
    Several shots were fired from above, some tearing into Pracksus’ already broken wings where others burned deeply into Grace’s side.
    “Grace!” Pracksus cried.
    “I’m alright,” she tensed, hiding the pain of her wounds.
    Other Dragons flew in to defend them, but against so many ships they too were shot down, buying only moments.
    Grace gathered the light of her flame, radiance seething from her mouth as she unleashed a stream towards a squad of fighters fast in approach.
    Her fire claimed two- but four remained. Cringing, she spread her wings, their weapons burning deep into her neck and side as she shielded Pracksus from the assault.
    “Please,” Pracksus pleaded. “Leave me… leave me to die.”
    “I can’t,” she replied with hardened conviction. “And I won’t.”
    “If we both die,” he choked painfully.
    “We have to keep moving!” She pushed him along.
    Above descended one of the battleships, its aim carefully made as its main guns shifted: two cannons that sighted the pair beneath it.
    “Grace,” Pracksus collapsed, his eyes narrowing as the shadow of the ship was cast from above. “Run!”
    He expected her to obey, to run as his body was consumed- but she didn’t.
    Above the cannons lit.
    “Please,” Pracksus begged- eyes shaken with sorrow.
    “I’m going to protect you,” she smiled, blood racing down her neck.
    Like the dawn of the sun came the fire from above.
    Grace spread her wings, her body eclipsed as a shield to the radiant force that overcame them.
    Both beams sank deeply into her, knocking her against Pracksus where her body lay still.
    Pracksus’ eyes met hers in blood-stained agony.
    “Stay down,” Grace whispered-still- the light of her eyes falling dim.
    He would have cried out had he not been so broken, but it was more than his body, but also of his heart that ached beyond any measure of relief.
    The burning valley, the cry of the mountains as Dragon and Dragoon alike were slain, the death of his wife: all succumbing his sorrow and hate.
    He bled helplessly against Grace, her body- now absent of life.


    Aerin fell back against the wall, shaken by anxiety and fear.
    In her heart she felt it: her mother was gone.
    “Aerin,” Ash ran to her side. “Aerin?”
    The glazed look in her eyes told him everything, and though he shared in her sorrow, he couldn’t allow himself to feel it the way she did- not now.
    Further out the keep, came the call that the entrance was being sealed. The fires were growing close and the situation outside had worsened beyond anything they could hope to control.
    A heavy rumbling sounded as the doors to the keep were closed, barred shut with metal and stone.
    “I’m sorry,” Ash’s words became weighted in anguish.
    He knelt down beside Aerin, holding her close as she fell against him, her tears running fast.
    “Why is this happening?” She shook in his arms.
    “I don’t know,” Ash said, graven with anger, “but I swear… we’ll make them pay for what they‘ve done here.”


    Minutes seemed to drift eternally into hours; the first signs of dawn creeping in from holes that had been formed by their enemy’s brutal assault.
    It had only been moments since the last audible sign of the attack, but the occupants of Astrus, including Ash and Aerin, were desperate to know the fate of the others.
    The Dragoons, along with Erax, all removed stone and fallen debris to take their first look outside.
    “They’re gone,” Erax announced.
    Removing enough of the rubble as to make their way outside, Aerin ran with Ash- both watchful of their surroundings.
    As Erax had announced, there was no sign of the enemy.
    The valley was littered with blazing fire and the many dead of their fallen kin.
    Alongside the western mountains, Aerin sighted her parents, her body trembling as her hands shook to her face.
    Ash took Erax, pulling Aerin up with him, the two flying fast towards them.


    Beside them, Aerin could hardly believe it.
    Touching her mother, she found her body to be cold, kneeling beside her.
    “Aerin,” Ash called as he observed Pracksus. His eyes however, dimmed, still retained a faint spark of life.
    She came up beside him as he dismounted, touching her father’s side.
    His body was still warm, his heart beating slow at the verge of death.
    Blood bathed the mountainside: most of it her mother’s.
    Shrythen flew in with Kapan, landing hard upon the rocks where he was quick to dismount.
    He joined them at their side in desperate observance, “Pracksus.”
    “Master,” Ash rested a hand on Pracksus’ brow.
    It was then the light gathered around Aerin, glowing out from her hands. Using her essence she ignited its influence.
    “Aerin,” Ash stood solemnly. He should have stopped her. He wanted to stop her, but he couldn’t.
    Into Pracksus, Aerin shared her essence of life, healing his wounds as where slowly his eyes shut- deep into slumber. Charged by Aerin’s light, the remainder of his wounds began to glow- sealing shut.
    Aerin stepped back, withdrawing the light as she faced the others. “I have a lot of work to do.”
    “You can’t save them all,” Ash said painfully. “It could kill you.”
    Aerin cut him off with a sharp gesture, her expression hardening with a devout sense of will. “I’ll need your help.”
    Shrythen advanced between them. He understood the potential cost of her actions and accepted her choice, “if that is what you wish… we will do all that we can to assist you.”
    “Then take me to them,” Aerin cried softly, “and please take care of father.”
    “I will attend to the Master,” Shrythen mounted Kapan. “Ash, take Aerin to the wounded. They will need her help.”
    “You’re sure about this?” Ash said seriously.
    Aerin nodded, “wouldn’t you do the same for me?”
    Although reluctant, Ash returned the gesture, mounting as he reached out towards her.
    Aerin took his hand, pulling herself onto the saddle as she looked to her mother once more, her eyes softening upon her: then to her father, her heart holding fast to hope.
    “I give you my word,” Ash said coldly, looking sharply ahead, “this is far from over.”
    It was the second time he’d made that promise, and she knew he meant it, but for her- her heart was empty, numbing with a cold unlike any she’d ever felt.
    “We’ve found Elzra,” announced an incoming Dragoon atop a Dragon Gray. “She’s holed up with others at Thorin.”
    “Thank you,” Shrythen gestured. “Go and gather anyone that you can. Pracksus lives- but he needs our help.”
    “Yes sir,” The Dragoon turned fast into flight.
    Ash flew Erax in a circuitous route to avoid the smoke. Above the valley he flew steady towards Thorin. The mountains there had long been designated for sanctuary. It was likely that most of the wounded would be gathered there.
    Aerin’s eyes were cast below to the valley- her home. What once was a forest brimming with life, was now a black-charred sea of cinders and ash. It took the water and the earth thousands of years to form what had been taken in less than a day.
    This is death, she thought sadly in reflection. I’ve seen it before- but never like this.