All breath left her chest as Marrak shoved her away with a force that sent her tumbling into the pond. Even through the water, his screams pained her ears. She flailed against tangled waterweeds and heaved herself upwards. Her head breached the surface just in time to watch shadows consume his form. The blackness swirled and rose, sparking with embers like a volcanic stormcloud.

The grass caught fire first. Then the heatwave took the hedges. Even the pond warmed as Marrak stood tall and steaming in the rain. And atop his head, the shards shone clear and radiant.

Syra watched his gaze breathless, frozen still in the reedbed. But it washed over the garden and the buildings below, turning instead to the fields where the clang of metal and hiss-boom of flamearrow raged on.

He stared for a long moment, watching, calculating. Until the call of a horn—that horn—broke him and the city from their stupors.

“Dragon!” Guards cried from the ramparts and ran to their towers—to their arrows.

Marrak fixed his gaze on them but held his ground.

There was a ratcheting sound, and then a click…a woosh…and then a crack-sizzle as the heavy arrow caught itself in a wavering, red barrier.

A huff of annoyance brought the barrier down and the arrow thudded into the dirt by his feet.

“Dragons are more than mere beasts, you know,” he rumbled. “But, if you insist…”

He puffed his chest and red heat veined up through his scales. Up his throat. And then out it came. A jet of heat and light, red and raging at the puny creatures that dared threaten him. The flames washed over the tower, scorching both body and stone. But, to Syra’s bitter relief, the austrum alloy remained intact.

She turned her gaze to the sky—what little she could see—scanning for flecks of red and gold.

Where are they? They must’ve seen that. But they can’t come near here—they’ll be shot for sure.

She readied herself to spring, but a wind blasted her over as Marrak leapt into the air.

Damn it! They can’t handle him on their own, but… She craned her head towards the Alchemy Towers, we have to find a way to bring him down. She felt herself split.

“A dragon without fire is just a liability.”

“When you’re snout-to-snout with an Ignis, even your mother’s fire did little damage.”

“Sorry, your sister's just a little broken.”

The voices leaked from their boxes to claw her mind.

But what can I do? I can’t match Marrak in a fight and Aidan’s blueprints are garble to me—I’ll be a hindrance either way.

“You are my sword and shield…” Aidan’s voice cut through their chatter.

She scoffed to herself, You’re the one with the sword, not me. But… She felt the spark reignite in her chest, if I can do anything, it’s that.

Taking avian-form, she flew past the Academy towards the workshop and up to the top of Hydrius Tower—the tallest of the two towers with its lightning spire. Finding its roof barren, she circled down, peering into windows until a stubby, black ponytail with flailing arms caught her eye.

“Aidan!” she rasped, perching on the sill and rapping on the window pane.

Aidan stopped mid-lecture and fixed his wide eyes on the distraught bird, “Syr—” He caught himself as the team of alchemists and artificers watched him in intrigued confusion.

“You know this bird?” one asked.

“It’s a messenger,” he fumbled and scurried to open the window.

“What’s going on?” he whispered, keeping his back to them. “I heard the alarm—are you alright?”

“Yes, but that wasn’t for me. Marrak shifted before I could stop him.”

“Shit!” He leaned out the window but only saw forest from his angle. “How are we holding? How are the twins?”

“I didn’t see them. But Marrak’s heading for the fields, and they’ll no doubt engage him.”

“Can they take him on?”

“Not alone—that’s why I’m here. The shards, they’re definitely affecting his judgment.”

“You saw this for sure?”

“Yes. Long story, but if you can find a way to disrupt that current, then that might give us an opening.”

Two familiar roars filled the air and made her feathers stand on end.

“I have to go.” She tapped him on the nose with her beak.

“Go? But how can you fight when you have no—”

“I’m a pretty good shield, remember? Now hurry up with that thing. We’ll try to keep him away from the city as long as possible.”

Diving from the window, she sprinted over the city towards the fighting. Past the Inner Ring, bodies already sprinkled the hills and smoke streamed from the pock marks on either side. The rebels had managed to crest the hill, but the city’s reinforcements now formed a thick line stretching the full width of the south entrance. In front, the row of armored mages stationed themselves and mounted their amplifiers. In moments, barriers shot out from each one and merged into a shimmering wall of light that towered and arched into a half-dome over the swaths of soldiers. Between this wall and the encroaching rebels, Petra and Cassius crouched, frills flared and teeth bared, as Marrak landed ahead of his army with a blast of flames.

The rebels fell into ranks behind him, and he turned his gaze to address them as if the field of gilded warriors were but paddies of moonstalks. Petra moved to spring, but Syra landed on a horn and hushed in her ear.

“Wait.”

Petra flinched and checked her side to see nothing, “Syra?”

“I’m right here,” she pecked at her horn. “Aidan’s working on a way to contain him, but that’ll take some time. We have to keep him away from the city until then.”

“Not likely with just the three of us.”

“Can’t you call the others?”

“Oh, I would. But all our fighters went to Falorn.” Petra dug her claws into the dirt, “Which is why we must stop him here.”

“I see.” She looked back at the Altairan soldiers to see a sea of scared and confused faces, “I just hope we don't get shot down with him.”

"We can handle that," Petra said, looking over to Cassius.

“Cas, can you calm down the wormlings? Assure them we’re here to help. That we’re on their side."

"You really think that'll work on them?"

She winked at him, “If your Words work on me, they'll work on anyone. Just don't use the scary ones this time.”

Cassius chuckled and turned his regal head to the army. As he paused to gaze upon the soldiers, a faint glow filled the gaps in the scales along his throat and a white aura surrounded his head.

The soldiers hoisted their shields, ready for the pillar of flames. But all that left Cassius’ mouth was sound.

“We are with you,” he said, sending a calming wave over the battalions. His voice did not boom. Only a soft rumble like far-off thunder rippled the rain as it touched each soldier in hearing distance. As their eyes met his, he lifted his head high and spread his wings, letting the aura spread around him like a silver lining, “We fight with you. With Altaira.” He craned his head back around and leered at Marrak, the white glow now taking on a reddish hue, “And against crazed monsters—no matter their kind.”

Cassius’ glow receded, but even Syra felt her energy surge. Surely the troops felt the same as thundurus hoots were followed by the beating of sword on shield.

A chuckle from Marrak’s throat stilled them all as lightning flashed across the sky.

“You may think me mad, but a monster? No. No, I wish to be quite the opposite. But,” he took a step towards them and released steam from his neck vents, “I can be made one. So, just know—however this turns out—the people fighting behind me, and the people praying for them, that’s Altaira’s fault. Altaira’s choice. I am merely their voice.”

He locked his eyes on the bronze bird, “Now, Syra! Whether we rise to take control or fall into a dark and uncertain future, that is your choice. So, what will it be?”

Syra flew from Petra's horn and dove, glaring at the mocking stones in his head.

“Neither.”