Chapter 7

Cold air rushed through the small gaps in Victor’s leather armour, as he flew towards the orange glow in the distance. On his back, William sat with a crossbow in hand, eyeing the horizon ahead like a hawk in search of prey. He wore a similar set of leather armor, and a pair of primitive goggles that barely fit over his head.

Victor steeled his nerves, and shot a glance beside him. Celesta was there, rushing up along with him to the target. She happened to have her attention turned to the red dragon at the same time, and shot a smile towards him; Victor smiled back at her, minus the teeth. Much more communication than that wasn’t possible in the air; not when his ears were filled by the wind rushing past, and the beating of both dragons’ mighty wings.

Just ten minutes away from Morgansen, they descended to level just above the treeline. The front wasn’t far now. Victor quickly put his claws out in front of him, before stashing them back by his side.

“Alright, I’ve got this. Push one down, burn a ballista, get out as fast as you can…”

Celesta’s voice whispered in the wind. Whatever was said, Victor could only hope it was positive, for the time to strike had come. Smoke poured out of the trees to their right just before a small stream. Both dragons angled their wings to glide towards it; beating their wings this close to the frontline would draw unwarranted attention at this hour.

The two dragons separated to opposite sides of the smoke. William shifted his feet around and took both hands off the red dragon’s back. Victor reflexively let his teeth slip in between his lips, each capable of ripping a man apart. William could very well fall off if he wasn’t careful. The thought sickened him to his stomach, but he had to bite through it.

Hold on tight, Will, for the love of Divinity. Only got one shot at this!

The dragons sped past the smoke and over the stream, coming face to face with a hill. The first rays of light shone on the horizon, casting Victor in a warm orange glow that made him squint, leaving him with a slight glimpse of his target:.

Ahead, a man sat on a thick tree branch. The lookout for the enemy forces. He was seemingly half asleep until the sun shone, visibly jolting up like he’d gotten a shock and coming face to face with the red dragon flying straight ahead him, teeth bared. Victor forced himself forward, throwing his claws up into the air before his chest. He clenched his teeth, shut his eyes, and strained his claws as vertical as they could go.

Please let this go right. Please let this go right…!

A connection occurred. Leather pressed into the palm of Victor’s claw for the duration of an eye blink. Then, cold air. His ears went flat from a dull scream and a hundred leaves and branches stabbng into his scales. Victor gasped, and opened his eyes back up. More trees were ahead. A trench lay straight below atop the hill. Then a bunker in the woods. Next to it, a Ballista with no troops around it. His eyes lit up. Ballista. That’s what he’s after.

With a deep breath, he put pressure on his stomach. The taste and smell of ash rushed up his throat in one large lump. His jaws snapped shut, no trees were ahead, he flicked his head towards the Ballista and blasted it with all the fire gathering in his mouth. It razed through the air like a lance, smashing into the Ballista with explosive force. Wooden splinters were flung across the ground, perforating grass and bark alike. Victor felt sick as he flew past the line. Even though he’d flung himself against the enemy many times, it never got any easier. Well, the actual attack wasn’t an issue anymore. It’s the result that mattered.

Dragonhood had granted him immense power… destructive power. Anyone that might’ve stood around that Ballista was either burning alive or torn up by flying splinters. It wasn’t the first time. The sounds… the screams… they were never leaving his ears. They weren’t here now. He heard them anyway. An unwell feeling broiled in the pit of his stomach. He had to put a claw over his chest to still it.

Nothing truly made it easier though. Another bitter piece of war he had to swallow. Now was no exception; he still had the return sortie to make.

“Vic, stay steady this time, alright? I can’t land the shot like that.”

The red dragon produced a weak whine with his throat. “Sure thing, Will.”

He angled his wings and made his way back. Celesta had already completed her turn by the time he began his - that wasn’t bound to be good. Any second later meant another second vulnerable to musket fire. He had to make haste, and pushed himself forward, biting through whatever else he might be feeling.

The approach came closer. And closer. Victor kept himself steady. There was another ballista in the corner of his eye; he could make a pass on it. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. The first pass had taken too much out of him - either William was landing his shot, or Victor would go for a second… right as the imperial troops were breaking out of their bunkers, musket in hand. He gasped, closed his eye.

Land it, Will… land it!

A crossbow’s launch reached Victor’s ears. For a moment afterwards, it was as if all sound had ceased to exist. The wind, his wings, the shifting of his armour…all muffled under his nerves. Then, a thunderous blast rocked the ground under his wings. The bunker vanished in an explosive haze, fire and splinters flying in all directions. The troops who had just ran out the building dropped their muskets in surprise as their comrades poured out, screaming at the top of their lungs. Some were bloody, others were on fire; an unlucky few were both.

That’s a hit, alright….

Victor angled his wings down, increasing his speed in the process. His ears went flat against his head from the wind forcing itself past, a cold aching spreading through them with dagger-like force. A small price to pay for safety; the alternative was sticking around to eat musket balls through the chest.

So the red dragon sighed, and went back over the stream and past the Homefront’s lines, as the morning sun shone gloriously at his back. Celesta had increased the distance between them even further, soaring as a spear back towards Morgansen to report on what had to have been a job well done. Her proud flapping told the story for her.

* * *

Once they had arrived back in Morgansen, and William had hopped off and gone to check up on something, the first thing Victor could think to do was ask others to help get the armor off. Divinity almighty if it wasn’t bothersome. The straps keeping the armor together were incredibly uncomfortable, itching like crazy as they shifted with each wing beat. The armor itself heated up too much as well. Victor panted a little the second he touched down. Had it not been for the wind, he’d be too hot to act back over the Justitian lines.

Between the heat, the itching, the loss in nimbleness he felt wearing the armor, the situation was bad enough. But then the knife was twisted deeper. One strap wouldn’t cooperate with Victor’s claws. None of them really did: Whoever designed the leather armor hadn’t put much thought in the idea of a dragon themselves actually being capable of taking their own silly armor of. That was a human’s job.

“Son of a…”

“Need help with that, sir?”

A Homefront troop came up to Victor, holding up some kind of polishing cloth, all while giving an overly optimistic smile. Judging by the smell, he had been recruited to the cause yesterday. Victor let out a tired sigh.

“I’d appreciate it a lot.” Even though I shouldn’t need help with this. What’s he going to think? First day on the job, help the red idiot take his armor off because he’s too stupid to do it himself. Oof…

The soldier went to work, first loosening the strap, then polishing the scales it had been pressing against. Say one thing for the cloth, say that it did wonders for the itching. At least Victor wasn’t alone in complaining about that.

After some pleading, Victor had the other strap spots polished as well. The cloth got through the scales and to his actual skin. It did an excellent job of making him feel relaxed. His mind dawdled off to the pleasant image of him laying on a pile of blankets while being polished from all sides by others. The people doing the polishing responded to every plea and bidding, happily polishing away at whatever other scales itched.

Wait. Doing his bidding.

Victor punched himself in the chest. Don’t do that! You’re not special, Vic! You’re not! You’re as plain and ordinary of a person as you can be, dragon or not, nothing more. Don’t become arrogant. Don’t.

“Someting wrong, sir?”

“N-no,” Victor replied. “Just had a bad feeling about something back home, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

The red dragon shook his head. “I’m fine for now, thanks. I just need some alone time, that’s all.”

“Understood, sir.”

With a bow, the troop left. Victor struggled to not chew on his tongue. All this formality and good treatment for nothing. No human soldier in the Homefront got that kind of treatment. Nor did most other dragons, for that matter. Celesta sure didn’t; she was still busy taking hers off, in fact. Ever since he got the armour, that’s the treatment he’s been getting over others. And he received his armour faster than the others, on top of that.

All because of who my dad is, isn’t it. Victor exhaled deep through his nose. “Hey, Celesta, do you need help with that?”

The lavender dragoness looked up, immediately blowing the air out of her lungs as she made eye contact with Victor.

“I’d really appreciate it, Vic!”

Victor chuckled. “Alright, I’m on it.”

The two dragons struggled for a while to get the strap off. By the time they finished, a different troop had taken notice and come over, cloth in hand and smile on face, but the job was done. He left just as he came, without much fanfare.

“Well, that certainly’s a way to be welcomed, isn’t it?”

“Guess so,” Victor said. “Gotta love how they’re fast as lightning to help me out, but no such help’s given to you, or any other dragon, or any other person for that matter.”

Celesta nodded. “I overheard a few guys talking about that, actually. Apparently it’s an order to help you whenever you look like you’re in trouble.”

Victor sighed. “Doesn’t surprise me anymore. It’s all because of my father. He’s been getting more and more into the idea of me being a king after him, and I guess this is a part of that,” he said, resting on his hindquarters to fidget with his claws. Celesta tilted her head.

“Well, it’s not so bad, is it? Royalty tends to get treated better for being, well, royalty. They’re leading the country, a little extra to lift them up wouldn’t hurt, would it?” The lavender dragoness wanded up besides Victor. “And I’ve got no doubt in my mind that someone as kind and determined as you would make a fine king.”

Victor shook his head, his cheeks having gotten a little puffy. “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“W-well, I… I’m not royalty, for one. My father loves to tell me I am, but I’m not. The only life I really remember is living on a farm with my mother and little sister. That’s me. How do you even go from that to… well, being a ruler?“

Celesta had to chuckle over those words. “All things have to start from somewhere, right? Even the tallest tree was a wee sapling at one point. You were also a cute baby at first, and look at you now! Almost as tall as your father, big teeth, incredibly brave and loyal to the people around you…”

She seized Victor’s head with both claws. “Then again, you sure haven’t gotten less cuter since then,” she whispered, before swiftly pressing her lips against Victor’s nose. Victor felt very, very warm all of a sudden. Even more so as she pulled away with a satisfied look on her face.

“E-er… t-thank you…sweetheart…”

“Haha! You’re blushing!”

Celesta pointed and laughed towards Victor. It hadn’t been the first time, but Divinity almighty had it not gotten any easier. A smooch, a flare of warmth, a visible blush, then the laughter. It was like a script they were following.

Then again though, that wasn’t such a bad thing. Victor held a claw over his chest from the pains of a fluttering heart. That laugh, her attitude and optimism even in rough times, the surprising strength she had… not to mention that pretty round face and those lovely curved horns. She was a blessing from Divinity herself.

“Hahaha, having a good time, are we?”

Victor’s lips jittered. “H-hey, Celesta… can you close your eyes for a moment?”

“Oh? What for?” she asked with narrow eyes, her smile not faltering.

“T-trust me,” Victor said. Oh Divinity, she’s already figured me out.

“Alright then big guy, surprise me!”

Celesta closed her eyes, and put her claws in front of them for good measure. Victor breathed in, then out. In, then out. In, then out, letting all the air escape his lungs this time.

Okay Victor, you got this. You’re taller than her, she’ll like it, don’t worry.

Cautiously, he moved his snout up to Celesta’s. He was aiming for the tip of her snout just like she had, and with him having more than a head in height over her, it shouldn’t be so difficult. Yet it was. He had to approach slowly, lest the worst happened. Lest he hurt her by accident. Slow, but sure, he approached…

…only to meet her lips in the end.

“Ah!”

“Haha! Gotcha!”

Victor pulled back, cheeks red hot with embarassment as he covered his mouth with both claws, all while Celesta laughed at him.

“Come on, you have to admit that was pretty good, wasn’t it?”

Victor had but a weak whine to respond with. Celesta put a claw around his neck.

“Don’t worry Vic, you’ll get used to it one day. I’ll make sure you’ll enjoy this just as much as I do. I’m not changing my ways, and no one’s going to stop me from-”

A blue claw grabbed Celesta by the shoulder. “I would reconsider my choice of words if I were you. His father would beg to differ.”

“Th-that’s true…”

“Too true.”

Celesta shrank down as those words settled in her mind. The blue dragon behind her patted her on the shoulder, evidently proud of his handiwork. Victor grimaced. As infatuated with him as she was, Celesta was about the only one in all of Lokahn who could forget who his father was. Fitting that the one who reminded her was his father’s favourite punching bag.

The blue dragon cleared his throat. “Now then. His father’s… wishes aside, I doubt anyone else would hold any ill wills. My heart certainly enjoys seeing you two be happy with each other,” he said, grinning. “A pleasure to see you again, by the way.”

“Uh, hello there, Raghes,” Victor muttered while draping a wing over Celesta. “Weren’t you supposed to be busy with something?”

The wind rushed through the streets of Morgansen with enough force to drown out every last word of what Victor was saying. His teeth scraped by his gums as he tried his damndest to avoid his wing flying off of Celesta’s back. Meanwhile, Raghes aired out his wings: the wind was blowing straight into the leathery membranes between each finger.

“You were saying?”

The red dragon shook his head, his chest cramping up out of embarrassment. Why now of all times? Divinity’s got it out for me, I swear.

“Hello? Lokahn to Victor, what were you saying?”

“I thought you were supposed to be busy with planning and leading attacks,” Victor meekly said.

Raghes shrugged. “That was the plan, yes. Keyword being was. Got a reassignment from your father himself. Well, a new task on top of the existing work would be more accurate, rather.”

“Eh? What do you mean?” Celesta asked from underneath Victor’s wing.

The blue dragon sighed in response. “Oh, he wanted me to personally deliver a message to you in particular, Victor.”

“Well, what is it?” Victor asked. ‘Thank Divinity he’s not calling me Vykroz.’

“We will need more privacy to discuss this. Follow me to the woods near town, this is sensitive information.”

Raghes turned and motioned for both the red and the lavender to follow, before taking wing directly into the gusts. He twirled his body and soared over the walls like an acrobat on a trapeze, his every move a grand display of elegance that almost seemed dreamlike. Victor followed first, anxiously fidgeting with his claws as he took off. Celesta quickly rose to her feet and pursued.

The blue dragon was far ahead of them when they flew over the walls. He dove into the treeline just as Victor and Celesta had a good eye on him, leaving a hole through the leaves for them to follow through. He had perched himself onto a large rock by the time the red and the purple landed, tentatively tapping his talons on the stone.

“Okay, we’re here now. What’s the matter?” Victor asked.

Raghes craned his head towards the surrounding woods, heavily sniffing the air. Victor followed: aside from the three of them, nothing but damp grass and mushrooms. A squirrel or rabbit in the distance, perhaps, quickly scurrying away lest they end up as lunch.

“We’re in the clear,” Raghes said. “Listen, and listen very carefully. What I’m about to tell you is not just top secret, it is the whole story. Your father, lord Lothar, has tasked you with recovering something critical for the war effort.”

Victor tilted his head. “What is it?”

“Weapons, foodstuffs, some kind of magic artifiact?” Celesta asked right after. Victor’s own ideas on what weren’t much different. The latter, especially. Once upon a time he didn’t hold much faith in magic, but after magic had caused him to shed his humanity, it was difficult to not be a believer.

Raghes shook his head at every suggestion. “No. This… is not a direct source of strength. This is something far more sentimental and valuable. Something of Lokahn’s past. The key to any new ruler’s legitimacy. Something the very first king of Lokahn wore on his head.”

“Reval?” asked Celesta.

“Correct.” Raghes nodded. “I cannot give you more information than this. Lord Lothar has not given me much more than this to work with. All I can tell you now is to return to him as soon as possible, Victor.”

Victor grimaced. “What of Celesta?”

Raghes lowered his head. “Bring her as well, if you wish. Once again though, I cannot give you any sort of guarantee that your father will accept it. He is a proud one, after all, and not particularly open to having his mind changed on these… passionate matters,” he muttered. “Chances are that he wants to assign a bodyguard to you-”

“William too. I need him as well,” Victor blurted out. I’m not leaving him behind for this. I don’t know what I’d do if he turned up dead on the frontlines instead.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes!” Victor desperately shouted. “I’ve already forgotten to bring him here, it won’t happen again! I’m not letting it happen again!”

“Whoa, calm down there,” Celesta whispered, to which Victor winced.

“This is nothing to be calm over!”

Raghes grabbed Victor by the shoulder. “She’s right, Victor! Stay calm! You always need to stay calm at times like this. Leaders always have to keep a level head in the worst of times, and this is far from it. It’s nothing to be so fearful of, you can inform him of the situation and get him to come with you. Understood?” he said with a pleading face. Victor closed his mouth and looked at the dirt in shame.

“Understood, Raghes.”

“Remember, you’ve got this. You’re strong.”

“I understand, I understand,” Victor said, the second much weaker than the first..Celesta came up to him and patted him on the other shoulder.

“Come Vic, let’s go,” she said.

Raghes watched as the two dragons made their way back to Morgansen, Victor’s wingbeats weak and shallow compared to Celesta’s. He clutched at his chest, breathing in deep as if a pressure had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Good luck out there, Vykroz… your crown is waiting for you.”