A few days went by. The common folk busied themselves with their winter preparations, paying only a sliver of attention to developments across Lokahn, as usual. For now the war had moved on beyond them, and thus it had become faraway noise. For now.

Whatever fears of marching armies or repercussions existed had been replaced by visions of the oncoming cold. Plants shriveled at the frozen scythe’s touch, the moments of sunlight were few and far between, work became a game of endurance, and people turned to their reserves of hardwood to keep any semblance of warmth in their homes. A struggle, but one fought every year, and every soul in Westedge was a veteran.

Alas, word of mouth revealed little optimism for the town’s prospects. The war had left them isolated from the rest of the world. and thus isolated from imports. Imports the town could make good use of. Westedge and Frontier Harbour now had no one but themselves to rely on should disaster strike.

Dawn broke on a cloudy day. Victor left his home with a growling stomach. Westedge’s baron had announced food rationing less than a day ago, to the chagrin of the public. Victor clicked his tongue, still remembering the collective groan that passed through the crowd.

Looks like no one’s managed to lose the long face yet. Argh, it’s going to be a long few months. Wouldn’t be a huge surprise if everyone starts protesting at some point.

Clutching his stomach, Victor made his way across town for a little breakfast. It was always nerve wracking, sitting amongst mostly human patrons in a tavern nibbling away on whatever meal was the cheapest that day, eyes shifting back and forth, hoping he hadn’t unsettled anyone with too large a bite or too noisy a chew. His father had recommended he eat with other dragons, but the thought alone was sickening enough.

After breakfast, he had himself fitted with some light armor at the barracks. Specifically designed for him, as the powers that be would have it. Today Victor would show himself on the training fields, as he had promised.

All sorts of feelings nudged at him as he set out. Tension hung in the air, but he had a strange sense of confidence as he bypassed the numerous stalls and guards patrolling the city, head held high. The guards would salute upon their encounter, as if he were an equal. A guard… a protector, of sorts. And yet, that confidence vanished upon the slightest meeting of the eyes with any of the locals.

All around, behind little merchant stalls and street decorations, hidden behind windows or lurking in the shadows of nearby alleys, numerous dusty faces watched as the armored dragon ventured over their streets, the sour smell of fear teeming from their bodies. Likely they imagined their fate wouldn’t be a bright one should this beast choose to make it so. Victor lowered his head. It was difficult to look others in the eye when all they had within was mistrust.

“Ack!”

“Aargh! Sorry, sorry!”

Right in the middle of the main square, Victor bumped headfirst into someone, right where everyone could see. All the worries over fear had ended with things going the other direction; soft chuckles could be heard from all the buildings around the square. Tongue brushing against the back of his teeth, Victor squeezed both eyes shut in embarrassment.

“I swear, I didn’t mean to be so rude. Sorry for the-”

“Victor? Is that you?”

A claw pressed against the red dragon’s shoulder, gentle yet firm. Victor slowly opened his eyes. Then an all too familiar smell hit him square in both nostrils.

“Celesta?”

The lavender dragoness smiled, patting the red on the shoulderpads. “Wow, I almost didn’t recognise you under all that armor, Vic. Why are you wearing all this?”

The red puffed his cheeks up. “Well, erhm, I wanted to help my friend with his training exercises, thus I needed to wear some combat gear.”

Celesta tilted her head. “Oh? But I do not see many of the other dragons doing the same. There is not much armor to go around, as far as I know. So why do-” she paused, as the corner of her eye dawdled off in the direction of the groves. “Oh, right. Silly me.”

Victor nodded along. Silly you? Silly me, more like.

“But my oh my, Victor! You have no idea how I’ve been dying to speak to you these past few days! Divinity knows it’s been a nightmare!”

Victor scratched at an itch behind his horns. “Dying? What do you mean?”

Instead of an answer, Celesta pointed away to a quiet alley between two small houses. “I’ll tell you more about it in private. I’d prefer it if the whole world didn’t hear about my struggles, wouldn’t you agree?”

Victor’s lips twisted up. “Why, yes, eheheh...” Why do I feel my breakfast churning?

The lavender dragged the red away into the alley, away from prying eyes and laughing mouths. It was just spiders keeping them company here, spiders whose first instinct was to leave their frost-encrusted webs for nearby shadows.

“Right, what do you mean with dying now?”

Celesta groaned uncomfortably. “My father really didn’t like me going off on an adventure with you. I had to stay home and help him out at the prison, and even though I begged him to, he just wouldn’t let go. It was difficult enough to get back to my duties at the orphanage, let alone be able to freely walk the streets again!”

“But why would he do that?” asked Victor, “I don’t see the issue. Even my own father accepted our… errand for what it was.”

Celesta shook her head. “To be perfectly honest, I think my father might be scared of your father. Granted, he wouldn’t be the only one, but I don’t think anyone else is as stricken.”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “How so? I witnessed some of the most indomitable dragons fall to their knees before him, over trivial manners at that. None of the humans he's talked to appeared sure of themselves either, aside from when he was praying, that is.”

A visible shiver passed through Celesta’s body. “Well, I’ve eavesdropped on him crying before his little prayer statue a few nights ago. He was really scared your father was going to do something to him.”

Victor felt something bore through the core of his body. His scales began sticking to one another, as if someone had spilled a giant jar of fruit juices over his back. He laid himself down upon the ground, and didn’t get off despite the cold stinging from belly to tail-tip. Guilt for any wrongdoing always required a punishment; even if it wasn't directly his doing.

“Victor? Are you-”

“I’m fine.” The red dragon let out a drawn out sigh. “I’d ask you what broke him, but I already know.” He then pressed the blunt end of his claws into his forehead, rubbing them across once the pressure wore on him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Celesta turned her head away slightly, a soft grunt emanating from her throat. “So do I, Victor. You do not feel any guilt about this, right?”

“No, I don’t.” What a pale-faced lie. “But enough about this. ” Victor rose back to his feet, the scales and armor on his belly and chest now a soggy mess. “If you don’t mind, I have a practice session I need to attend.”

“Practice session?”

“Yes, practice session… sparring session, training session… routine, whatever name you want to slap on it. I’ll be helping William prepare for the upcoming attack. Raghes appointed him as a captain for gods know what reason. He’s been rather overwhelmed, and I promised to help him.”

“Hey, uhm, Vic… can I ask you a question?” Celesta said.

“Sure,” Victor said.

“Would it be okay if I accompany you?”

“Eh?”

“I thought you could use the help. I mean, you haven’t fought much at all, and you seem pretty nervous if I do say so myself. You remind me an awful lot of myself, now that I think of it!” Celesta replied, baring all her teeth in a smile.

“Well, erhm, your father wouldn’t be, you know, uhh, he wouldn’t like that, and I’m not sure, if ehrm, if William would be all too happy with that,” Victor stuttered. Celesta laughed it off, brushing away a speck of snow which stuck to the red’s chest.

“It’s no problem, Vic. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind another pair of claws at his side! And believe it or not, but I’m more than capable of helping out. All that time spent assisting my father has taught me much about what I’m capable of. Trust me, it’ll be good!”

Victor licked at his lips. There wasn’t any denying that Celesta knew a fair amount, and that her experience would most certainly be of great use, but last minute’s conversation was difficult to shake off. Neither parent approved of them being anywhere near one another. Whatever the reason for it might be, it was potent enough to bring one to tears, and the other to murderous anger. It would be for the better if they went separate ways, lest they face vengeance from either parent. Then again, Lothar had seemed somewhat receptive not too long ago; perhaps there was hope. Alas, whether William would approve was still in the air…

“You know what, I’m willing to give it a try. William probably will not like it, though.”

Celesta nodded. “Thank you for hearing me out, Vic! Trust me, it’ll work out fine. Might be a little trouble getting used to it, but after some time everything should all come together.”

“Alright,” Victor said. “Do you have a good excuse if your father asks where you’ve been?”

“I told him I’d spend more time at the orphanage today. My friends over there are more than willing to cover for me, so it should be good.”

“Okay, I see. Well then, let’s not keep William and the others waiting. The weather’s not getting nicer any time soon.”

* * *

The training field William had been assigned to was half an hour’s walk removed from Westedge’s fall gate. One of the many Origin Mountains loomed overhead. At the foot of the mountain he said… right. The impulse to stretch the wings to there was great at first, but a quick unfurling through winter air revealed that to be a fool’s gambit. Thus, they settled on a hike through the woods.

Aside from peasants shivering in their boots, and the lone wanderer with their eyes glued to a map, it was solemn. Nothing but soft snowfall for fields around, the rustling of branches overhead as the lone noise. Beside the peasants and hibernating mammals nearby, the nostrils remained clean. As if mother nature herself was hibernating, and let winter’s rage do as it pleased over her territory.

The mountain grew taller with every step. In the shadow of an abandoned guard tower, a group of men were gathered by a small clearing. All had their attention focused on one man, fiddling a crossbow in both his hands. Victor’s ears perked up.

“Right, so you’re having an assistant today, Bill. What’s that going to change, exactly?”

“It’s not just any assistance. This is the dragon that will accompany us when we venture out.”

“What? You never told us that!”

“Look, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t tell you. It still wasn’t clear if it was him or not, besides, you’ve been asking to meet him for a few days now, haven’t you?”

“Bill, we specifically asked you to tell us before that scaled bastard was coming, so we could prepare. Instead we’re standing here, just now hearing ‘oh, he’s coming today by the way’, thanks a lot. That’ll work well out in the field. ‘Oh, forgot the medicine. Sorry guys!.”

“Ugh, I’m trying my damndest, okay?”

“Might want to rethink your best in that case.”

“Guys, guys, calm down already. Look, there the dragon is. Wait, he’s not alone...”

Victor halted for a second as one finger reached out to him. The crowd ahead grouped up to whisper to another, a few unfortunate stragglers finding themselves locked out. William waved at him from behind the group, a flicker of uncertainty visible in his eyes.

“Well then, this must be it,” Victor said.

“Let’s not loiter?” Celesta said.

“Of course.”

An awful lot went through Victor’s head as he made the final steps. The men ahead were very headstrong for mere recruits. Lokahnian bluntness at its finest. Victor had seen his fair share of it. He'd always found it overwhelming, receiving a scolding from strangers over the slightest of infractions. But it was far from the lone gopher poking out of the grass.

Accompany them out east? But I never said that… but I can’t say that now, can I? Why did he have to… say that…?

“Hey, fools! Into formation! You can’t just loiter around!” Celesta shouted.

Victor found himself scratching away at the back of his neck. For a coach, he was awfully quiet. One of the slower lads in the group grunted as if his throat was coated in gravel, kicking away at the snow as he fell in line. His bulging clothing was stained black, and he reeked of a night’s worth of heavy drinking.

“Pfft, what d’you know about formations, little girl?”

“More than you know about guzzling beer. Given you’ve devoted your life to that, I’m a little disappointed.”

Half the group wheezed. “HAHAHA! She didn’t say that, oh gods!”

“Well, son of a bitch, Clyde, she got you good!”

“That just filled a hole in me heart I never knew I had.”

“Ay… laugh, will ye. I’ll get back at ye all later,” the bearded drunkard said, stroking his beard clean.

Victor bared a smug grin on his snout. Perfect. Maybe they’ll listen now. ”Enough chatter. We’re here all here for a reason, aren’t we?”

“Gettin’ ready to throw a sword into some imperial bastards, yes!” one yelled.

“There’s more to it than playing with swords, lad. They have their own, of course.” Victor gestured off to the clearing. “But you should know that already. Instead of wasting time rehearsing that, we’ll be practicing teamwork. If we’re hoping to make it out of this whole mess alive, we’ll have to stick together.”

William took a nervous step back. “We tried to get started a few days earlier, but it didn’t work out too well.”

“Didn’t work out too well… that blue bastard almost got killed, didn’t he?” a tall, brutish looking lad stepped forth from the crowd. “‘S more than ‘didn’t work out too well’, if you ask me. Or ask anyone else for that matter. Name’s Jim, by the way.”

Victor stood and observed, eyes focused on William as he visibly struggled to think up a response. Alas, nothing had come to his mind, beyond a mere ‘uhh’. No wonder it doesn’t go well. He has absolutely frozen over.

“As if that is of any relevance,” Celesta said. “We will start anew. That’s the gist of it.”

Jim shrugged. “Pretty much. Don’t know why we need two dragons now, though. Thought it was one per group..”

“That’s what I was told,” William answered. “ maybe something changed. Would you care to explain, Victor?” he continued, staring the red dragon down afterwards, teeth pressing down on his lip.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really. Neither of us had a group, and I doubt command will make a big hassle over one group having two dragons.” Ha! I’m saying that like I actually believe a word of it. Who am I even fooling?

William nodded timidly. “Okay. Well, I think it is about time we got started.”

Celesta raised a claw. “Hold on. I wanted to discuss something real quick. C’mere for a second.”

Murmurs hid amidst the group as William walked up to the dragons, who had bent their necks down to see eye to eye. “What is this?”

“I was thinking. Since we’re both here, couldn’t we split up the group? That way we’d learn a little better, I imagine.”

William nodded. “Well erhm, fair enough. There’s something-”

“Not too sure of it myself,” Victor said. “We don’t have the luxury of splitting up when this mess will begin in earnest.”

“Oh, umm...”

“True, true. But I do think there’s a little merit in giving it a try. Even if it’s just once. I mean, I still don’t know whether or not I can come here again.”

“Fair enough. I suppose it’s worth a try. What do you think, Will?”

William shook his head. “I don’t know anymore.”

Victor raised an eye. “Don’t know anymore? You’re the one in charge here. No need to listen to us if you don’t feel like it.” Here’s to hoping he realises what I’m doing.

Celesta shrugged. “For all we know, you might have an idea of your own. It’s your call, Will.”

The crossbowman nodded. “Well, I think we’re better off staying together. Splitting up sounds like a terrible idea. You're not making it easy on me though, one dragon's difficult enough to handle to begin with..”

A sharp whistling sound erupted from the crowd. “So, what’s the plan?” Jim asked.

“Formation, formation. We’ll get started right away. Same as last week. Dragon, well, dragons in the front, regulars on the flanks, archers next to the regulars, infantry between the archers and the dragons, arrowhead shape.”

“Yes sir!”

The group ran out onto the field, calling their place. Victor and Celesta casually walked their way to the center, flanked on both sides by the battle-hungriest men they’ve ever seen. The shape of an arrowhead was visible as the dawn’s light after a leaf had a chance to fall upon the floor, far before the enemy had the chance to react.

“I must say, you have this formation down to the core already,” Celesta said.

“‘S all we’ve been practicin’ on so far!” the drunkard yelled.

Victor shrugged. “Well, it’s something to be proud of, at least. It’s like the old saying...” What did my mother tell me all the time... ? The house, the- oh, yes. “...You can’t build a solid house without a solid foundation.”

“I was hoping we’d have learned a little more by now,” Jim replied.

“Well, we’re getting there,” William said, “if our dragons could be so kind.”

Both dragons nodded. “Alright then,” Victor said, “How's about we go on a hike through the woods, since we'll be doing a lot of that. It shouldn’t be too difficult. If you see anything odd, raise your voice. Even if it’s just a rabbit or something, I’d like to hear it anyway. Stick to the formation as best you can. And don’t forget to keep your eyes open.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Alright, is everything clear, or are there any questions?” asked William.

Celesta stretched a wing out up to her head. “I have one, actually. How long are we planning to do this for? Oh, and where exactly will we be hiking to?”

William laid a hand over his mouth, pulling at his cheeks and lips lightly. “Well, erhm… There’s a village to the south. Greentree, I think it is called. Yes, Greentree. Through the woods, it should be about… an hour and a half before we get there. If there’s an emergency, there’s a road not far to our left, so we should be okay. Sound fair?”

Celesta nodded. “Sure does.”

William cleared his throat. “Alright then, let’s do this.”

* * *

The wind at their backs, the group marched out into the woods. As made apparent by the thick vegetation, keeping the formation steady and in shape would be a struggle. Victor kept his eyes sharp. This was but a taste of what the future would hold: Frigid air, damp smells, echoing wind, and a tingling sense of dread for whatever may lurk ahead.

It was an hour into their hike. Outside of some chatter at the start, no one had spoken: Spare the snow under their feet, it was silent. No one had bothered to raise alarm, either; the pale snow left little room for anything to hide. Some of the troops showed signs of exhaustion. Victor didn’t blame them. Who wouldn’t be exhausted after all this snow? Well, not me, apparently. Or Celesta, for that manner.

Step by step, branch by branch, the forest kept winding its way carefree. Neither squirrels nor rabbits bothered to peak their heads out, nor did any predators. They all had crawled into their holes and dens, fallen under the spell of a deep sleep, their body fat keeping them warm and well for as long as the snow lingered outside. Had it not been for the smell, their presence would’ve gone unnoticed entirely. The forest had become all too lonely. So lonely, that when Celesta’s eyes met with a shape in the distance, the air jumped out of her lungs in surprise.

“Over there,” she said. “What is that?”

The group came to a halt. On the horizon, someone was leaning against a tree, head obscured by a hat, oblivious to the group facing him. One of the archers leaned forward, raising a flat hand to his forehead. “It looks like… a person.”

Another followed his lead. “Yeah, I see that… Strange though, doesn’t he look a little off?”

Jim grunted. “He does. Never seen anyone dress like that out here before, let alone peasants. What’s that thing he’s fiddling with?”

“Looks like some sort of… journal? Why write in one out in the cold? That seems awfully inconvenient.”

Victor gulped. I have a bad feeling about this.

“Fools, I think it’s pretty obvious what he’s doing!!” one of the infantrymen yelled. The man’s head shot up, eyes flaring to their fullest as they met with those of the red beast. “HE’S A SPY! GET HIM!!”

The men jumped into action, weapons at hand and screaming with all the force of their lungs. Victor gagged in reflex. They’re going to kill him…! Knowing he’d be seeing red should he linger, he kicked his legs off the dirt, sprinting at full force past the men, deadset on his target like a cougar.

“Hey, there the red goes!”

“That’s the spirit! Get ‘im!”

“Wait a minute, Victor!” Celesta called out. But Victor ignored, flying ahead as a runaway storm. Teeth bared and gritted, wings pressing against his back, his instincts flared joyously. Long had they waited. Victor’s eyes narrowed. A roar simmered at the base of his throat, waiting for the moment it could fly free. It felt odd… yet right. His target looked over his shoulder, fear laid bare in his open jaw and haunted eyes. The hat had flown off his head, exposing his trimmed brown hair to the knifelike winds. With a gasp, the dragon leapt with both claws outstretched.

The man tumbled to the ground with a panicked yell, where two huge claws pressed him down into the dirt. “Stay put!” Victor screamed, breathing down his neck with enough tenacity to get all the hairs to rise. The man thrashed about, screaming like a piglet being taken to the slaughterhouse. White talons kept him pinned, not so much as budging an inch despite the trapped soul’s greatest effort. The struggle likely hurt the man more than the dragon.

“What are you doing out here?!”

The man replied with another spasm. “Don’t hurt me… please don’t hurt me… I’ll tell you anything, just please don’t hurt me...” he wept, clutching weakly at the snow. Reinforcements arrived, walking ahead to see someone much like them squirm.

“I...” Victor’s breath shook in his mouth. “I will not. Just, tell me what you are doing here.”

“I confess… I confess… I’m with the imperials, just please do not kill me… I had been forced to, I swear I didn’t want to-”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put a sword through your gut right now.”

Jim walked up to the man’s head, a sharp blade in his hands. The man winced and yelped, his face glowing red under the flash of the blade menacingly hovering over his Jim, spitting into the snow, kicked the man in the head, to another yelp.

“Stop that at once! This is no way to treat a prisoner!” Celesta shouted.

“He’s a traitor, you scaled fool! He sold our country down the river!”

“Even then, he can be useful to Lokahn still! He has to know a thing or two of the enemy! Put the sword away, and let’s get him back to Westedge.” Celesta walked her way between the sword and the man, staring at Jim all the while as he gradually lowered his sword back into its sheath.

“Fine. But this better be worth it.”

“Alright. Think we can better go home. This is, uhh, an extraordinary situation,” William said. “But we should look for what he dropped first. There might be something important in there. The dragons and I will watch him, the rest of you can go search. Understood?”

“Yes sir!”

The group dispersed into the woods. All the while, Victor remained perched like a statue, his claws still pressing the man into the dirt, who still lay quivering on the snow. Celesta tapped the red’s shoulder with the back of her talons, her wings opening a little.

“Victor, you feeling alright?”

The red licked at his cheeks. “Yes. I’m fine. I’m fine...”

“I don’t know, Vic… I wasn’t expecting that from you,” William said.

Victor shook his head. “Me neither...”