The skies are filled with the dark specks of dragons. A rolling black and purple mass lay beneath them, leaving a trail of smoke and ash in their wake from campfires at their various campsites.

Hours past morning and already the army is a seething mass that one can see just beyond the trees, and one can almost see the individuals making up the army and feel the thousands of feet shaking the dirt at their feet. There are large creatures before them, pulling massive catapults.

A few small dragons circle high overhead with purple cloaked men on their back. They do nothing, but the sight of the large beasts sent the villagers into a tizzy and the soldiers under General Brackenridge sagged with fear.

But... the villagers cannot see what we have seen. The shadow of dragons in the distance struck fear into us all. As they came closer, we could distinguish individual shadows. Count them. Thirty dragons was not something any of us expected.

David and the Elders of Videlia began evacuation weeks ago, sending trails of people up the mountain and to the Werecats. Many didn’t want to go. Not based on word alone.

I understand. They have not seen true war, not in many long years. Peace lends itself to complacency.

But when the dragons attacked when we arrived with the Berserk, they began evacuating by the hundreds as if the hounds of Fifth were on them.

David’s foresight in the form of tunnels beneath the city is being put to good use. How they built a wall and tunnels beneath the ground in such a short amount of time is beyond my knowledge... but it also makes me wonder if, perhaps, the tunnels were not already there. Morgana took me beneath that strange wall in the middle of the city the first time I came here to give me the dagger that even now rests against the small of my back. She may have other secrets hiding beneath the surface of Videlia.

This little city is a mystery, one I someday hope to have time to sit down and pick Morgana's brain about... if we survive what's coming and if the old coot actually deems to answer. Both of those are mighty big ifs.

I’m just glad the casualties will be less than what would’ve been. The exodus of so many pouring into the mountains leaves less blood that can stain the streets red.

Never thought I would be happy for dragons scouting and attacking a town I’m protecting, but there you have it.

The glint of a magesphere comes from the back of one of the scout dragons, the jingoist on his back watching us through the magnification device.

They stay high above, beyond the reach of the ballista on the walls, merely watching, as though they wait for the rest of the armed forces to arrive. It's a smart move. We've taken one of their dragons and David tells me they wounded the other with a ballista. There is no reason to risk losing more when the overwhelming force of the army is mere hours away.

The General and Zephora walk up beside me. Tim and Jace part to allow them through. My self-proclaimed bodyguards. Flash is already out in the forest, scouting, otherwise I've no doubt that he, too, would find a reason to hang around.

“The men are as prepared as can be,” the General grunts.

Zephora narrows her eyes as she gazes into the distance at the looming black cloud in the sky and the blanket of grey on the earth. “The Were are in place with the catapults and dragon musk. Sir David is filling the moat as you showed him, swapping out with Heather and Morgana when he grows weary.”

I brought the Ring with me. It felt as if Pa’s guiding hand was on me while I was in his tomb. I felt peace. He would want the Ring used for protection. When we are done, I will return it to his keeping.

I look at the two of them, unsure why they’re coming to me with this, but thankful all the same.

“Is the salt distributed?” I ask.

“Each Ring was given barrels of salt and dirt. May I ask why salt and not water?”

I look over at the General, seeing his steely eyes fastened on the coming army.

Zephora is the one who answers. “The dragons can mix a fat with the flames they vomit. Water will only spread the flames. Tell your men do use water at all costs on the direct flame. Salt works best, but in lieu dirt or sand can smother the flames.” That was something Jed shared with me and the Were. The kid is bright.

“How can we win?” he asks. It’s an honest question, one I myself have been pondering. The men are not the issue. Videlia could handle 5,000. Not without losses, but doable. It’s the dragons I’m worried about. They are smaller than Nova, the small scout dragons only a fifth of her size and the regular dragons in the distance only twice their size... but she’s one dragon to their many.

“Never give up hope, General. There is always hope.”

The dragons are encroaching, but have yet to breech the city. Ten dragons, all much smaller than Nova, circle above us, joining the one who was there before.

David, Sir Rey, Heather, and Morgana join us on the watchtower, all eyes glued to shaking trees as the army we have dreaded for months stomps through the forest.

They are here.

Men and Shifters and Mages come. I hear the stamp of their boots, the chomp of their horses against their bits, and the war cries of a conquering nation who think themselves already won.

And Nova is missing. She knew the odds; she knew the cost. I hope she is alright.

On one hand, she might be in trouble. That curdles my stomach despite knowing how strong she is. On the other hand, perhaps she decided to leave the tiny creatures to their wars and protect her young.

I wouldn’t blame her. I wouldn’t blame her at all. Part of me hopes it is the latter, for at least then she would be safe.

But I don’t know how I am going to handle the dragons alone. Our entire plan hinges on the dragons being unable to breech the walls and allow the needless slaughter of thousands.

Videlia’s smaller force can hold out against the Empire so long as the wall is not breeched.

Without her... it changes everything.

She wouldn’t leave us, Cynic says. Beast purrs in agreement.

At least they are getting along, for once.

You do understand that unlike me, Beast is you, correct? His voice questions my sanity, even as he smothers amusement at my expense.

I don’t deem that worthy of a response.

They come.

Minutes or hours later, the first of the men come to a stop at the edge of the forest.

In front of them is a pathway through a bog that was not there before. The swampland covers the stumps Videlia used for the wall, making a large swathe of green and slimy water about two miles wide and about four miles from Videlia's wall.

Massive creatures groan as they pull huge weapons to the edge of the clearing on the other side of the water.

At first I cannot define what they are. They are almost shaped like walking lizards, with spikes along their spins and an arrow-shaped head and long tails that drag behind them.

My blood runs cold as I look closer and hear a keen. Their necks grow wider and flare with a feathered mane like Nova's that is oily and patchy and even bare in some places.

These are dragons.

Their wings are but blackened nubs where the creatures of might once spread them to tame the wind and sky. The black and brown hides are covered in crisscrossing scars. My back tingles, feeling the feint memory of whips that dug into my flesh, leaving similar scars.

My fists clench at my sides as a muzzled dragon whips his head around to cry for another who had just stumbled into the clearing.

The other pants, her sides heaving with each large breath, her head hanging low as she steps into the shifting dirt on the edges of the water.

She takes a step, then stumbles.

Her other leg gives. With an exhausted keen, she drops to the ground inches from the water.

Something inside me snaps, and I almost jump from the parapet. David’s hand on my arm wakes me from the trance of anger curdling my stomach and heating my chest. I look back.

He raises his hand off my arm and shows both hands lifted in the air, his demeanor calm and placating as he avoids my gaze. “Easy. It’s only me, Roland,” he says, soft and cajoling, as if speaking to a wild animal.

That’s when I realize I have a dagger poised below his armpit where the chain link mail is weakest. Guilt seizes me and I stumble back with a mumbled apology.

I turn my gaze back to the dragons.

The male rears up, almost breaking the chains holding him to the wagons and men around it.

The men struggle as the dragon thrashes, when a man cloaked in silver steps forward, calmly putting a hand out in front of the dragon.

The dragon drops back down to all fours, a moan of desperation escaping his lips. His eyes grow cloudy and his breathing becomes even, almost as if sleeping.

With the dragon calmed, the army moves like ants to settle their mounts and themselves into a night. They also begin cutting down more trees to make ladders and siege weapons.

They are apparently in no rush to attack. Why should they? They are here to burn a town to the ground. Doesn’t matter if they wait until morning so they have light to see by. I just hope Nova turns up by then.

I remember the feel of her warmth as she cradled me beneath her wing and doted on me and my siblings like some overgrown mother. A smile tips my lips.

Something flares deep in my chest. Almost painful… yet, not. A wave of cold comes from my core and makes my teeth chatter and goosebumps pop up on my arms. Then a burst of heat strikes my core, something that reminds me of Nova's keen and her kind heart that I feel when I connected to her mind by touch.

Then my perspective… switches. Instead of a parapet before an army, I’m soaring over clouds. I can feel my wings beating and the breath of wind brushes through my feather like fingers.

See, a voice says… or perhaps implies.

And the vision shifts, becoming… something other. Something more.

What I see doesn’t make sense.

The vision cuts off.

I stagger. Hands hold me upright.

I blink until the stars clear from my vision and my mind adjusts to being back on the ground.

I shake my head, trying to keep the world from spinning, but that only makes it worse.

My ears switch from the mighty roar of wind and the rustling of feathers to the clank of swords and armor to the huffs of large beasts and the click-clack of feathered arrows as archers stock their quivers for battle.

My hearing grows faulty, hearing something far into the distance of trees rustling and the bark of dogs in the city to closer voices that seem an indistinct roar. My hearing hasn't done this since I could zone in at will.

Then it clears with another shake and their voices register.

“Roland?”

“What be wrong?”

"Are you alright?"

I nod, shaking off their hands as I stand upright and pull back my shoulders, trying not to show how my hands shake.

They watch me warily, and I suppose for good reason. I did just about fall over.

But looking back in the direction where I saw through Nova’s eyes... I knew she was gone for some important task, but I didn’t realize—

You should feel terrible, Cynic comments, extra smug at being right.

Shut up.

But I kinda do feel terrible. With fear talking, I thought she’d left me. I should have known better.

Turns out she’s just bringing backup.

“If we can buy a few days, help is on the way.” I can’t stop my broad grin that holds a hint of a snarl as I look at the army thinking this an easy village to burn. My soul has something to hold onto for the first time since I first heard Videlia was under siege. “Until then, let us sow chaos.”