June 14, 1917

Operation in Messine (Dusk)

Western Flanders, Belgium The British 2nd Army are attempting one final push against

the Imperial German 4th Army. The explosion of the multiple

mines from Hill 60, Spanbroekmolen, Ontario Farm, to even

Trench 122 wiped out the majority of the opposition on the very

first day the battle started. In a sense, they should be crippled.

Instead, it's made them far more desperate than before.

They're throwing every available soldier into the front lines,

offloading whatever rounds of artillery they have and went

as far as deploying all of their planes in a reckless counter

offensive. I hate to say it, but its starting to become effective.

The British Second Army are experiencing setbacks in taking

over the front lines and are losing ground meter by meter.

Black Flight's orders are to intercept their Luftstreitkrafte squadrons

and cut down their air superiority, so the ground forces are able

to take out key offensive locations across the Oostaverne lines.

This fight was already going down hill, now it's up to the lads

and I to see that it doesn't snowball in the wrong direction.

~Collishaw

“RAY-RAY! IT’S A TRAP! THEY ALL MAGICIAN!”

“HOLY SH*T! INCOMING!”

The black Sopwith Triplane broke out of its charge, guiding several planes in its trail to do the same. A mix of Albatross and Fokker planes screamed past them. Whenever they dove past an Allied Plane, all sorts of things were being launched from the pilot seat.

"Wh-what the h*ll, i-is that guy vomitting snakes out of his mouth!?"

"Tch, this isn't good! He's forcefully mixing the core of the Pied Piper of Hamelin with a Snake Charming Incantation!"

"That sounds messed up!"

"The Iron Stakes that were designed to execute the Vampire King; Tesla Coils empowered with enough energy to revive undead beasts like Frakenstein; Tch! They're even using multiple Germanic-based Christian Anti-Magic spells! The explosion with the mines must have pushed the Krauts to be this desperate for them to deploy ALL of their magicians at once!"

Raymond Collishaw didn’t like an unfair fight. This was a Gentlemen’s War, each army still evolved from a time where men would marched across the field in orderly fashion, even when the attacking army was shooting at them. The discipline, the sense of honor, and the nobility amongst even the opposing officers..

Now, it looked like a child was throwing hand full of rocks just to win an useless argument. And those rocks came in the form of German planes controlled by Magicians of all backgrounds that carried the Iron Cross in their hearts.

“If they’re going all out, then there is no sense for this Witch to be a reserved housewife. KAVA-NAK-TIVA!”

“W-wait, Sleipnir! Don't—Guwooooh!”

Raymond Collishaw felt a growing heat wave nipping at his neck and he ducked. To his astonishment, a massive ball of green flame leaving trails of raven feathers was launched into the air. It exploded half-way in its flight, and it released slashing tongues of emerald blaze all over.

The Canadian Pilot could see several enemy Magicians swinging around rifles, candles, to even whistles on chain to deflect most of the blaze. The rest either were burned alive or were sliced through the plane when the flaming tongues caught them off guard.

As if to follow up on that volley, he noticed arrows of ice flying out from one Sopwith Triplane 3 meters behind him, striking down al Albatross. Even from the ground, he noticed things like golden rings or even china plate with angelic wings fluttering about in the sky, acting as chaff and countermeasure to protect the ground forces from magical aerial attacks.

This was the first time the Pilot had seen a magical battle of this level. As he wasn't a Magician, the most he could do was avoid getting hit. For example, dodging this viper lunging at his face by intentionally flippin his plane down. With a twist of his controls, he used his wings to turn about and slap the creature aside. From the corner of his eyes, he saw that dead snake turn into harmless strips of silk and paper before it was shredded up by a propeller.

"Don't hold back darling! Even if they use magic as their ammunnition, they are still the enemy! We have to carry on the pride of the British Empire on our shoulders! RULE BRITANNIA!"

"T-tch. There is no way I'm going to understand any of this but screw this logic!"

Raymond Collishaw flipped several switches on his console to adjust settings in the engine. It was enough to give him an added boost of speed to fly in between two Fokkers that did a terrible job in turning out of the way. All he had to do was spin around on a tight corner, using the triple wings to his advantage with increase air drag, and he set his crosshair.

"Sorry friend."

*RA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA!*

"Sh*t! Sleipnir, stop shooting your magic for a second! You have ridiculous recoil!"

"Sh-shut up and let me focus! I-its impossible to recite the right spell command without being distracted by random bullets and bombs! Vash-niha-ROFA!"

"...Huh?"

The Canadian Pilot continued to shoot, but due to his partner slinging powerful magic with the ferocity of a 6 pound artillery gun, the angle of his plane kept shifting at awkward angles. All of his prepared calculation of leading ahead with his gunfire was skewed. A skilled pilot would realize he was being targeted and would start to turn away before the attacker could readjust. Like missing the first shot of a sniper kill. However.

"H-he ran into the line of fire?"

He watched as the plane he sorefully missed the first time start to bank to the side. A regular pilot would turn 'away' from the stream of bullets. Rather, this Albatross ended up turning 'into' the line of fire. Unintentionally, the machine gun shredded into the wings, the fuselage, and even buz-saw through the pilot that even wearing a pilot hlemt or goggles. His wizard like had flew off his hanging head, full of holes and red liquid.

“...W-wait. Wait a minute. He could have easily dodged my misfire. S-so why did he dive into it? And the others, h-how come they're not uprighting themselves from the turn!? Th-they're going down like moths to a flame! They're not even pulling up!"

"It can't be helped Ray-Ray!—KER-NASH-KITO!—Cough. You've seen yourself how useful I was when it came to helping you fix your plane.—VAS-KORA-NAKTI—I couldn't even differentiate between a blow torch and a Scottish Terrier."

"M-meaning?"

"We magicians are useless when it comes to learning the technologies the modern world uses on a daily basis. H*ll, my two mothers can't even operate a phone without blowing it up whenever it rings."

Raymond Collishaw went white. He didn't lose any oxygen from flying so high, neither did the winds beating into his open cockpit suffocate him. Rather, he started to see his enemies spiraling out of control, one by one. They even crashed into each other, head on, and they didn't make an attempt to fly out of the way. That or—

"...Does this mean they can't fly a plane? Isn't that suicide!?"

"The German 4th Army are on their last leg! They're dealing everything they have in their arsenal to make sure the Allies don't win this fight! I won't be surprised if they gave the order to deploy their Magicians into the air, that way they can spread more damage across the entire battlefield to turn the tide of war to their favor!"

"That's just too reckless! I seriously don’t know how to handle both bullets and magic crisscrossing all over the air. Ther’es too much variables for me to—SLEIPNIR DUCK1’

“Heh—NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

The Canadian Witch had been standing her seat when she cast that powered fireball spell. She kept flicking her wrist and her wand through the cold air, scattering feathers from her dress, attacking any incoming plane with a magician with the ferocity of an anti-air machine gun. However, the moment the Canadian Pilot called for her attention, she gave out a cat like squeal and dove into a human ball in her back seat. Like a hamster.

*VRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

"WHAT THE H*LL!? A STRAIGHT TACKLE!?"

Raymond Collishaw pushed his joystick forward, forcing the Black Maria into a steep dive. He was able to move the plane down fast enough to avoid one Fokker plane trying to ram him from the side.

It was reckless! No pilot, no matter how foolish or brave he was, would ever try and smash their own plane into another. Both pilots will die indefinitely! There was no way the one doing the charge could make a full recovering even if the plane’s frame did hold together. The engine and propeller would be destroyed, reducing their wing speed to zero.

So why!?

“H-hey. Hey! Pull up! Pull up on the joystick! The lever in your hands! PULL IT BACK TOWARDS YOU!”

The one thing the Canadian Pilot hate seeing the most, was when a rookie pilot forgots how to control his plane and takes a nasty nose dive into the earth. He had seen it one too many times during his training, new pilots with bright starry eyes, ready to fight Germans like the Red Baron.

Only to freak out at the last minute and lost control of their plan. They say that if you even pass the flight training, it was a miracle. If you survive one battle, you’re an ace. If you survive, shoot down an enemy plane, you’re a Super Ace. But often times, 80% of those who accomplish the first three requirement either end up crashing or get shot down by even more experienced fighter pilots.

Fighting in the sky in 1917 was just that difficult. So when he saw his own enemy re-enacting the same thing most rookies do on their evaluation day, it made his stomach flip.

“I SAID PULL UP!”

*BAAAAM!*

The Pilot felt like vomited when he saw that unscathed plane just take a nosedive right into the ground, at full speed. No one would survive that, not even if they were a Magicians.

“They seriously don’t know how to fly a plane! Why are they doing this?”

“For the sake of their nation acquiring world power! What magician wouldn’t want to be part of an empire that will take control of every country and resource available in the world!? Even our own Magical Council supporting the Allies are looking to gain benefits if we won the conflict altogether. Who doesn’t want to be the most powerful being on the planet!?”

“This is insane! I can’t accept such a messed up psychology!”

Despite saying those words, Raymond Collishaw had no choice but to be a hypocrite in the next second. Instincts took over when an Albatross came into his line of sight. Altough he didn’t fire at first, the tail-gunner in the enemy’s rear seat did.

The magician in the back pulled at the weapon and started firing… only no bullet came.

“Pfff. She doesn’t know how to fire a machine gun. Of course you squeeze the little metal tips to unload the weapon.”

It was unclear if the tail gunner heard that secret technique, or they were lucky and found the trigger to use the weapon. The tail machine gun started chattering at full speed.

“SLEIPNIR YOU BIG MOUTH!”

‘I-I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I-I DIDN’T REALIZE MURPHY’S LAW STILL APPLIES TO THIS SITUATION! GYAAAAAH!”

The Canadian Pilot and Canadian Witch ducked as the line of bullets flew over their heads. Some stray shots pierced holes into the wings and some across the hull, but none of them struck into the two riders of the Black Maria. In fact, the stream of bullets ended up shooting over their heads and up higher into to the sky.

As if someone was manning the machine gun, but was tackled over and sent the active weapon still shooting in an awkward angle. The chattering continued, but it was really hitting nothing but air.

“…I feel very bad for them.”

“R-Ray-Ray! H-how can you say that when they nearly tried to gut you with flesh ripping bullets! Leave the Kraut [email protected] to me. become the merciless Pilot that you are and gun them! Even if they know squat in how to fly a plane and are nothing more than ducks in a shooting game, they are still the enemies of the British Empire and her Allies! We have to take them down!”

“…Tch. I really hate this war.”

Clicking his tongue, the Canadian Pilot quickly swerved out of the way to avoid colliding with another Fokker Plane. To his dismay, the magician of a pilot ended up not seeing another Sopwith Triplane and the two smashed into each other, head on. They both fell into crumbmled bits, spiraling to the earth in dead silence and bleeding black smoke.

*THUMP*

“Wh-what?”

Something seemed to hit the Black Maria. It wasn’t a third plane, that was for sure, otherwise Raymond Collishaw would see nothing but red and the sky would spiral around him before seeing the ground. Neither was it a bullet. It felt like, someone was up in the attic but they slipped and fell. That kind of thump.

“Wh-who are you!?”

“Ich werde dich besiegen, feind meiner nation!"

>

A girl. There was this odd girl who had suddenly crawled her way up across the top layer of Raymond Collishaw’s Sopwith Triplane. She grabbed onto the edges to secure her balance, all the while her thick gun-metal colored cloak flapping in the wind. Her short blonde hair was fluttering all over, but how she looked was the least of her own worries.

She brandished this sharp looking stick and aimed it directly at the pilot in the open cockpit. Like a gun to his forehead. On closer inspection, the object looked familiar. It reminded the Pilot of his partner's magic wand.

“RAY-RAY! GET DOWN!”

The Canadian Witch pounced. She first pushed her partner down into his seat, shielding his head with her body and whipped out her own wand from the gap in her bridal gauntlet.

“OK-TOVARA!”

“VERDAMMT!”

Several feathers with sharp ends appeared around the Canadian Witch. They immediately launched themsevle like crossbows bolts and chased after the girl on the top. They stabbed into her, square in the chest. It made her reel, bleed even, but it wasn’t enough to kill her. The Canadian Witch clicked her tongue. She was too focused on protecting the pilot that she didn’t use the right power level to finish this battle quickly.

“Darling, this is my battlefield now. Just keep our stage steady – and don’t you dare pull a barel roll!”

“Wait, Sleipnir! Hold it!”

Raymond Collishaw’s hat and goggle got stuck on his face when he was shoved down. By the time he pushed it back, he could see a certain Canadian Witch’s raven dress flapping in the wind. She stood up on her to legs and quickly bolted up the three decks of the wings as if starting to scale a tall mountain. She climbed her way to the top, to roll across the surface to fight this German Spellcaster on the same level.

“D-don’t be so reckless! We're still 8000 feet in the air!!”

“Have no fear, Ray-Ray! For I am a professional Canadian Witch!”

“You adding ‘professional’ worries me already!”

“HOW RUDE!"

“Stille! Dummkoff frau! Fallen sie von diesem flugzeug!"

>

The German Spellcaster girl quickly rolled to her feet. She swung her wand to down her legs while muttering a foreign incantation. Something sparked across the sole of her boots and threads of electricity danced from her boots and to the metal surface of the deck. Whenver Raymond Collishaw had to turn to avoid hitting a reckless Albatress with a magic pilot, this German didn’t fall off.

“Oh yeah!? two can play at that game! VASH-KIVA!”

The Canadian Witch flicked her wand to her side. From her dress, what looked like a tail made of raven feathers poked out from behind her. It then thrusted itself into the wing, piercing through the plating. From afar, they resembled cables used to anchor heavy machinery from flying off the ground.

“SLEIPNIR! THE H*LL!? DON’T YOU HAVE MAGIC THAT DOESN’T HURT BLACK MARIA LIKE THAT GERMAN GIRL!?”

“RAYMOND COLLISHAW! JUST WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON!?”

“Tot umfallen!”

>

“GEH!”

The Canadian Witch felt something that made the hair on her head started to flutter and puff. She quickly stepped to the side and avoided a lance of pure lightning from cutting through her proud chest. With a scowl, she retaliated by clenching her bare hand and waving her wand around.

She gathered the feathers from her dress to fly up and around her, collecting to form something like a stick. With one tap of her wand, the whole thing became a sharp black sword. The German Spellcaster followed suit, and she clapped her hands together to forge this blade made out of leaping lightning.

“Are you two serious!? Why do you have to fight on Black Maria! She's innocent in all this!”

Raymond Collishaw watched as the two girls clashed. With the German on her magnet-powered boots and Canadian Witch on her feather anchor, they both dove at each other trying to cut each other’s throats open with their enchanted swords. As much as he wanted to watch to the end, he had more pressing matters to do. While he was shooting down the clumsy Fokkers and Albatroses that either flew into his line of sight or ended up just diving into the ground, he noticed something.

There was one Fokker who was coming in close to him. Unlike before, this one wasn’t trying to hit him in a T-bone collision. Rather, it was trying to brush up along side his plane, and push into him. Like two cars racing on the highway. The pilot choked on his breath when he saw the Fokker’s wings started to shove itself into the frame of his craft.

The Sopwith Triplane was built to be resilient and incredible when it came to air-tight aerial maneuvers and steep climbing. However, one flaw is that the slightest structural imbalance will force the entire wing structure to cave in itself, Exactly like throwing a paper plane too hard, the wind resistance will rip it. The Fokker to his side, driven by clearly a magician with a metal wizard’s cap, was frantically trying to ‘shove the pilot into the ditch’.

“S-Stop! If you keep this up, we’ll both lose our wings! Aren’t you scared of dying!”

The pilot said something in German. It sounded like a cheer. To the Canadian Pilot’s dismay, the German Spellcaster on the Sopwith wing cheered with him. This wasn’t going to end well.

“Sorry about this! But you leave me zero choices to work with! Hup!”

The Pilot then turned his plane, sharply. He had no choice but to flick the wing of his plane to slap away the ‘hand’ reaching out from the Fokker. This caused both wings to dent, however the Sopwith Triplane survived the damages. The Fokker however, had its one wing-flap jammed. The pilot in the enemy craft couldn’t pull out and ended up spiraling. Soon, he would hit the ground without recovery. Raymond Collishaw uttered a small prayer on his behalf.

“NUWOOOOOH! R-RAY-RAY! WH-WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT BARREL ROLLING!”

“...Oh cr*p! I forgot about her!”

The Black Maria was in a full 90 degree turn, swerving around to avoid colliding with several Fokkers that lost control or accidentally broke their propellers when they struck into an ally or enemy plane. It was here that the Pilot could see a familiar girl falling right past his face, her hands and feet kicking like a dropped salmon.

"S-SLEIPNIR! SORRY!"

“NYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—GUFFFFGGG!”

Fortunately, the Canadian Witch's ‘harness’ made of raven feathers was still anchored into the wing. Maybe she knew of the pilot’s habits and was adding extra security to her fighting style. At first she had a straight free fall, and when her line snagged to catch her she let out tight gasp from her gut. By accident, the yank on her abdomen knocked the wind out of her and she dropped her blade. It turned into a scatter of feathers.

“H-HELP ME! HELP ME! I-I C-CAN’T CLIMB UP THE—OH MY GOD IT’S TOO HIGH UP!”

“D*MN IT YOU USELESS WITCH!! I KEEP TELLING YOU, NEVER LOOK DOWN YOU HAVE ACROPHOBIA!!”

The Canadian Pilot clicked his tongue as he tried to stabilize the plane from 90 degrees to 45 degrees. He thought the German girl would have fallen off as well, but he realized just how effevtive the magic she applied to her metal boots were. By the time he uprighted the plane, he could clearly see her total advantage over the situation. She stood upon the edge of the one wing as if a cliff and glared down at the thrashing sight that was the Canadian Witch way below her feet. The hand-carved wand made of German spruce clutched in her hand like a loaded pistol.

“Auf weidersehen, birdy.”

“DON’T MOVE!”

The German Spellcaster snapped out from her focus and she turned her head to the voice that called her out. She could see that Raymond Collishaw had brandished his own wand to defend the flailing Witch. It was called a Smith & Wesson Model-44 Double-Action Revolver

“Don’t do this. We can work things out. You don’t have to die so recklessly!”

“Sie werden nie verstehen, was es bedeutet, ein imperium zu schutzen!"

>

“No. I don’t understand what your saying. But wasting your life away like cannon fodder isn’t the way this war should be! Don’t you have a family!? Friends? Even among your community of witches or magician!? Surely, you weren’t all born out of a rock!”

“……………..”

There was this silence between two enemies of the Western Front. One was from the Allied Powers, the other from the Central Powers. They both have stood on this battlefield called Europe, in order to obtain an objective on behalf of their nation.

World Domination versus World Freedom.

Based on reason along, it should be clear as to who is the just victor in this fight. But given how blurred those fine lines were, where everything was not so white or black but a murky pitch grey… it was unclear who should truly deserve to win. That was why neither the Canadian Pilot or the German Sorceress could pull the trigger... nor put down their weapons together.

“…Everyone wants this war to be over. Everyone wants to go home. We’re no longer have the passion to die on the battlefield for our nations now, those times were buried by the end of 1914. No one wants to stay here anymore.”

“...Wer bist du genau?”

>

“So please. Let Sleipnir go… “

“...Tch. Sie sind ein dummkoff... Aber gerade wenn ich gewinnen will, warum ist mein herz so scher gefallen?"

>

Raymond Collishaw swallowed his dry throat. He didn’t know how much time had past, neither was he sure how much fuel he had burnt off from avoiding reckless German planes trying to tackle him in the sky. All he could think about was whether or not that German Sorceress was going to execute the Canadian Witch.

He didn’t like to hurt women, even in war… but he knew, if one was willing to shoot they had to be ready to be shot back. The Pilot will not hesitate in pulling the trigger if she were about to cast a spell to kill.

“Keh. Ich habe diesen bloden krieg wirklich satt!”

>

To his relief, the German Sorceress spat onto the top of his plane, and put down her killer wand. Raymond Collishaw let out a deep sigh. Then a trigger was squeezed.

*RAT-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA!*

“G-gebffuff...”

“…Huh?”

The Canadian Pilot saw seven red pockets popped all over the German Sorceress’ body. They were clearly wounds left behind a bullet being shot at 2000 mph that could slice through flesh, bone, and the Sorceress' organs. There was look of betrayal on her face, before she threw up a mouthful of blood.

Raymond Collishaw was sure, he didn’t pull the trigger on his revolver. In fact, his weapon didn’t have a trail of fresh smoke and the chamber was fully loaded. As clean as it was right after production.

It was when he heard the reckless shooting for an Albatross C.III plane, the tail gunner squeezing the trigger of his Parabellum MG14 machine gun as he flew right past the Sopwith Triplane. Just like before, his aim was terrible and he kept shooting despite slashing up into the sky and hitting absolutely nothing. Somehow, the first volley was enough to cut into their fellow German who was standing on Black Maria's wings.

Before they could realize they hit their own team member, one of Raymond Collishaw's squadmates flying the Black Roger swooped in to shoot them down. Their tail snapped open and they lost all power to engines. But the two German Magicians were already slumped over in their seat before their plane fell 7000 feet to the ground.

“…Wait… it’s not...it's not how it's supposed to be.”

“Vergib mir vater... Ich bin eine schreckliche tochter..."

>

“WAIT!”

The body that was the German Sorceress fell from the top of the third wing. Her body flipped uselessly in the air, the same way a towel would tumble from a clothing line. There were no signs or gesture to show that she was going to use some sort of exotic power to turn into a bird and fly away with the last laugh. If she was alive, it looked like she wasn't even going to bother with using her magic to save herself.

That was why Raymond Collishaw reached out a hand, to grab her.

“TAKE MY—”

Before he could say hand, the Canadian Pilot missed her fingers. She continued to fall. Yet it was in that split second, that German Sorceress with seven bullet wounds smiled at him through bloodied lips.

"Du bist...wirklich ein dummkoff...Ha...ha.."

>

“NO! NOOOOOO!”

The Canadian Pilot didn’t want to end on this note. He didn’t want to see such a tragic conclusion. He tried to turn his plane around, avoiding stray gun fire and weaving under German Planes and other Sopwith Triplanes that were struggling not to collide into each other in the air.

But by the time he turned his gazed back on the German Sorceress… he couldn’t find her body. There was no sign of her.

“…It’s alright Ray-Ray…she’s gone. She turned into an Eagle and flew off. She was laughing at you for your gullible nature.”

“…Ah. Sleipnir! Sorry! Hold on!”

Pushing down a painful thought, the Pilot tipped over in his cockpit to look down. The Canadian Witch could be found dangling on her rope made of magical feathers, her legs flailing under her body. As if listening to the young man’s previous suggestion, she only looked up at him, never down at the ground that was about 8000 feet under her shoes.

Raymond collishaw flew away from the fight for a moment, far enough so that no stray German plane would pursue him. He would lock the plane controls with a crowbar to keep it from tipping, and he climbed out of the cockpit. Using his years of experience in crawling in and out of his plane to fix something in the engine, or to repair a jammed machine gun, he made his way over to one of the layered wings as if it were a beam on a construction site. Carefully, he started to pulled the Witch up on her own black feathered lifeline.

“OH MY GOD! TH-THE GROUND IS SO FAR AWAY! HOLD ME! HOLD MEEEEEE!”

“DON’T LOOK DOWN, GOD-D*MN IT! QUICK, GET BACK IN THE COCKPIT!”

Ignoring the Canadian Witch’s protest of ‘walking on a balance beam from the top of the Empire State building’ Raymond Collishaw helped to shove her into his seat before crawling inside.The space was cramped, but what he was feeling now already made him numb all over.

“... Hey, Sleipnir. You said that the girl turned into an eagle and flew off. Is that true?"

“O-of course. Magicians always have a backup plane. Otherwise, I would have fallen off your plane and become a stain on the ground. I knew your flying skills too well.”

“Sleipnir…”

“D-don’t look at me with those puppy eyes. It-it’s not like you can really kill a Magician, w-we’re invicible, you know. O-oh-ho-ho--.”

“…I beg of you, Sleipnir. Tell me the truth.”

“…………….Please...don’t force a girl to tell you her honest feelings... even when she knows it will kill you deep inside."

Something struck inside Raymond Collishaw’s body. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly. Guilty, shame, disgust. His stomach was already flipping, and his throat started to taste of his own bile. To be honest, it was a long time since he experienced this sensation, it was almost nostalgic.

The sight of shooting down his first enemy plane right after graduating from flight school. The first sight of a limp body sitting quietly in their aircraft as it slowly tumbled. He would never forgot those first days of his time in the war... but over time, he learned to dissect those feelings in order to continue operating.

Just thinking about that girl, the German Sorceress with seven bullet holes ripping open her stomach and chest... those dissected emotions started to come back. It was overwhelming, like waking up from a bad nightmare.

"...It's been too long, s-since I ran away from this feeling in my heart... the weight of a human life..."

His hands began to tremble, almost weak from even touching the joystick of his plane to keep it steady in the air. The anxiety he tried to kept hidden, was already showing from the fidgeting of the wing flaps.

Until a pair of small and tender hands touched his glove, and held it tightly in warm palms.

“...Sleipnir, you’re bleeding! I'll turn back. We have to—”

“Wait, no! This… isn’t my blood…Darling…it's alright... I'm not hurt.”

The Pilot and the Witch fell silent between each other. It was unsure if they were taking the moment to pay respect to the fallen in the Battle of the Messine, whether they be a soldier in the trench or the pilot in the sky. Or maybe, a magician who was dragged from a peaceful life and thrown into the world wide conflict as a living weapon.

“Don’t think about it Ray-Ray. She knew the cost. The moment she put her foot onto the battlefield, she knew the fate she would receive. In her eyes, she saw nohing but the future of her country on her shoulder. Her ending, shouldn’t be a haunting memory for you.”

“…”

“…Besides. Just like me, she too is a Witch. A magician. A magical weapon that no one would believe that should ever exist. It’s not like her nation will post her name in the newspaper and glorified her sacrifice and achievements to the world… To those in control, she is nothing but a grain of salt in the ocean. No one will know her….Just how no one would remember me if I were to fall down like her.”

“I will never forget you.”

“A-ah!? R-Ray-Ray?”

The Black Maria suddenly pulled itself into a sharp turn. The blowing of the wings whirled around, shifting directions, the same way when a warship turns about face into the opposite direction of the flow of the ocean. It was making its way to the battle in the sky, where there were black Sopwith Triplanes dancing around the German Fokkers and Albatross.

There was still a fight going on, both in the air and on the ground. As a solider, as a pilot, there were things one had to swallow down in order to see through to the final conclusion. No matter how dark and stained that road was... it was only right to march to the bitter end, to respect those who fell short on the path.

Raymond Collishaw knew that too well.

“I don’t care if you’re a Witch or if you can use magic. I won’t forget you, ever… neither will I forget that girl… I’ll carry you both, no - I'll carry all Witches, Magicians or whatever spellusers are out there in my heart, in my memories. Your sacrifice will never be in vain to me!”

“…Fu-fu-fu Don’t make a girl a promise, if you know you can’t keep it… but I’m really happy. Thank you Ray-Ray.”

In the end, the Battle of Messines concluded at 6:25 PM, the victors were the British 2nd Army. With the combined attacks of the 12th Australian Brigades, the New Zealand Artillery Regiment, the countless low-altitude bombing and gun strafe from the Alled Fighter planes, the torn and bloodied Germn 4th Army were force to retreat from their Oosttaverne defensive line.

The area would soon be broken down and re-purposed for the next Allied Operation that will occur in the early days of July.

The Third Battle of Ypres.