When they appeared on an empty street near the East Gate, Megan first thought that the silence could only mean that the battle was already over. Attos had overwhelmed the defenders of Milagre, and the city had been taken. The silence could only mean the worst. They were too late. Their mission had been in vain. There were no survivors in sight, and it was all over.

Then the silence, likely caused by the spell that had transported them, was broken. The sound of fighting crashed down on their ears, frightening in its intensity. The simulacrum was nowhere to be found, and the other three were standing unsteadily, shaking their heads, stunned by the sensation of their travel. Megan turned towards the source of the noise, and saw, with a jolt of horror, that the wall was in terrible condition. Nearly destroyed by the damage of countless unknown spells, it was falling to pieces before her very eyes.

“Get clear!” One leader of the battle was shouting at the top of his lungs while he ran away. “Get clear of the wall! Fall back! Fall back!”

The man ran past Megan and the others without seeming to notice them, and his men began to break away from the wall and comply, but too late. The large stone wall exploded outwards as another spell hit it, and rubble was sent flying for yards in every direction, peppering those who were fleeing from it. Dozens and dozens of Milagre defenders were struck down by the heavy chunks of rock, crying out in pain. Others fell with ominous silence.

Through the breach, men came into view. They charged forward like a tide, routing the disoriented and disheartened defenders before them. Their weapons cut the Tyrman soldiers down, and the bodies were trampled by the soldiers that came behind. A dragon, a fully-grown monster the size of a draft horse, leaped over the wall beside the hole and wreaked havoc in a wide area with its lashing spiked tail and long, razor-sharp talons.

Screams rang out from all sides as the defenders, with no defensive position to hold, were overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Megan and her friends reacted to the situation just in time, turning on their heels and running with other survivors deeper into the city. The outer wall had fallen, and now there was only one haven for them. The inner wall, that beacon of safety that protected the Market and Temple Districts. They ran blindly for it.

Even in later years, Megan couldn’t be sure how they managed to get to the fortifications. Soldiers chased them the whole way, striking allies down beside them. They were forced to turn and deal with each threat as it caught up, but they were running a race against time, and they all knew it was only moments before they were surrounded. Soon, they would be slaughtered.

They slipped into their group combat formation even as they ran, with Jordan bringing up the rear to protect them. Rachel kept a constant stream of mana on him, and Michael danced beside and around him in a blur, his new weapon striking in all directions as he tried desperately to protect his friend. Megan threw healing, support, and even attack spells over her shoulder as fast as she could. It helped a little, providing a barrage of attacks that the Attosian soldiers couldn’t ignore.

Then they were at the base of the inner wall. Mages stationed on top spotted the golden trim on Megan’s robe, and lifted her into the air with a spell. Michael and Rachel were picked up as well, giving shouts of surprise at the sudden movement. They didn’t pick up Jordan, however, and Megan saw her friend unleashing blasts of fire from his mouth in an almost endless roar. Dozens of soldiers fell before his flames, and a few more were struck down by the torrent of spells that he fired at them.

As if in slow motion, Megan watch one figure in Attosian armor darting around the cone of deadly flames, a short sword held in his right hand and a determined scowl on his face. She shouted a warning that her big friend couldn’t hear, and then the warrior lunged. His sword slammed into Jordan’s body, shattering through the barrier that he’d conjured, and cutting through his cloth robe as if it wasn’t there.

Jordan staggered to the side under the force of the lunge, but didn’t stop moving. The warrior’s triumphant grin turned to horror as Jordan turned his head towards the man. He tried to run but was too slow. His body was incinerated by yet another blast of fire, and he was no more. Jordan turned back to the tide of warriors charging him, continuing to attack as if he hadn’t just been mortally wounded.

Megan was over the wall then, carried to the other side and losing sight of her friend. A split second later, Michael and Rachel landed beside her. Their faces were white with shock, and their mouths were stretched in silent screams of grief. So they had seen Jordan’s fate as well. They stood stunned for a moment, unable to comprehend it. They could only hear the earth-shattering roar that was symbolic of his draconic nature. Then the roar was gone, seeming to ring in their ears for a few seconds more, the last memory of their wise, patient, loyal, best friend.

The sun was blotted out momentarily as a large shape made it over the wall and leaped onto the ground behind it. It was the same dragon they’d seen earlier. The bodies of the soldiers it had killed in its rush were littering the base of the wall on the safe side. The gap it had made was closed almost at once, but the threat had still broken through. It sighted Megan, Michael, and Rachel now, and roared its challenge.

A matching roar came from Michael’s throat, and before Megan or Rachel could stop him, he drew his sword and charged the beast. Dragons in Ahya may have been much smaller than in the fantasy stories Megan had heard of, but it was still massive, easily twice Michael’s height. Forgetting her own fear, Megan rushed after her friend. She wasn’t going to lose Michael too.

The dragon released a jet of flame at the figure charging it, but Michael was ready for that. He swung his blade, again and again, shredding the natural mana of the dragon’s attack into ribbons, and absorbing them into his sheath. Then his blade slashed in a wide arc, catching the beast in its head. It couldn’t pierce the scales, but there was still enough force to snap the long snout to the side. Michael darted back to a safe range before its tail could swing around and strike back.

Michael moved in a blur, darting around the dragon’s swipes and snaps, his sword flickering out like a snake’s tongue to strike it in the flank. Try as he might, he couldn’t do anything but bruise and anger it, so tough were its scales. Still, it roared in pain all the same and redoubled its attempts to swat the annoying fly that was wounding it.

Megan sent her mana to support Michael and sensed, to her left, that Rachel was doing the same. The beast registered their presence, turned, and lunged. They dove to opposite sides just in time, and the large jaws clamped down on empty air. Then Michael was on top of it, his sword jabbing down at the base of its long neck. This attack came from a much shorter distance and had the entire strength of his body and arms behind it, not to mention the force of his leap.

The dragon was staggered as Michael’s sword was plunged to the hilt, and the unexpected movement shook him loose. His grip slipped loose of the handle, and he crashed to the cobbled ground with a grunt, rolling for a foot or two. He quickly conjured a barrier around his body as the dragon unleashed a cone of fire at point-blank range, and for a moment, he was lost to sight amidst the torrent of yellow flames.

“Michael!” Megan screamed so loud that her voice broke, and she felt blood coat the back of her throat. Please, just let him survive. Please let him be okay.

Then the flames were gone. Miraculously, Michael was on his feet, his robes smoking but otherwise unharmed. Lightning coated every inch of his body, and he made a quick gesture with his hand. The weapon vanished from the dragon’s body and reappeared in his hand, where he slashed twice, opening another two wounds in the beast’s neck. Then he was away again, his speed drastically heightened by the spell.

It looked as if lightning was striking the dragon from multiple directions as Michael went on the attack, virtually at the same time. Blood splashed onto the cobble as Michael’s weapon found an opening in the scales, again and again, opening large wounds in his target. The dragon seemed to realize that it was overwhelmed by its intended prey, and leaped away to the wall, trying to escape.

Michael ran after it, actually scaling the wall in one quick dash, and his sword severed the delicate webbing of its right wing. Unbalanced and flightless, the dragon crashed to the top of the wall, curling up defensively in anticipation of the next strike. Michael shredded its other wing for good measure, then jumped back, sheathing the blade. Immediately, the spell stone was lit by a fierce glow.

Megan sensed what he had planned, and sent her mana to assist him, increasing the power of the attack. Rachel sent thick golden ropes wrapping around the dragon to hold it in place. Michael drew the blade free and charged. He slid under the dragon’s fire, then came back up, blade extended, and rammed it through the bottom of its jaw, straight through its thick skull. An explosion of mana ran off his blade, and the head burst with a shower of blood. Without a sound, the body went limp.

The Attosian soldiers on the wall, witnessing the gruesome death of the creature, ran from the blood-soaked figure that had slain it. Many of them knew of the dragon’s strength, and they were terrified of the soldier who could so easily dispatch it. The defenders, meanwhile, gave a roar of exultation at its downfall, and went back to the fight with renewed vigor, sending what few invaders remained tumbling from the walls.

Michael dropped back down behind the wall and immediately dropped to his knees. The lightning faded from around his body, and he collapsed, faint. Megan and Rachel rushed over at once, rolling him onto his back. For one awful moment, Megan thought that he’d succumbed to some wound. But it was only exhaustion. Michael had drained himself completely with that flurry of attacks, and could barely remain conscious.

“Let’s carry him to the Temple District,” Rachel said. “The healers there can see to him.”

Megan nodded her agreement, and they each slipped under one of his arms, heaving him off the ground. Megan used a magnet spell to pick up his fallen sword, and they began to slowly carry him away from the fight. Megan shut her senses to the battle, trying to ignore the smell of blood, the screams of wounded men, and the crushing thought of Jordan, lying lifeless beyond the wall, just another victim of the invasion.

Jordan had sacrificed himself so that his friends and the other defenders could reach the wall and escape the oncoming horde. He’d made his decision in a split second, and surrendered himself to the dragon’s rage that lived inside his blood. Later, the defenders of Milagre would find the circle of scorched stones, nearly twenty yards wide, where his devastating flames had lain waste to the soldiers who had dared to invade his home and endanger his friends.