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Part 12: Dragon

Irven and Tibor advanced through the dark towards the inviting brazier flames beyond the far barbican door. Tibor's bolter was poised to loose on the first foe he spied, yet all was still. Just brick walls, blackened and charred, with just narrow gaps evenly spaced out and barred openings above allowing a tiny amount of light through.

“I don't like this,” Tibor whispered.

“We'll be fine, I've got a barrier up,” Irven replied.

“Feels like a trap. Why we couldn't just fly into Jorsviek with your magic?”

Indulge him, boy. He seldom actually understands, but you demonstrating your knowledge will be a comfort.

Irven sighed. “Telekinesis is as much about the position of the caster as it is the location, mass, shape and movement of the object to be manipulated and magic in the air. We can move ourselves whilst casting since it's second nature to move my body, but trying to focus and magically move on my very position in correlation to the world and that of whatever else I try to move causes a schism of arcane confluence in the-”

“Alright, alright, I get it! Or... I don't, but I'm beginning to understand why Bach used to just tell me to shut up and get on with my own business.”

I never said he didn't get annoying sometimes.

Irven rolled his eyes and kept near his uncle, but his mind grew further away. This gatehouse was just as he remembered when he fled Jorsviek with nothing but his bed clothes and a winter coat. He hadn't even stolen any boots, merely his indoor slippers.

Even just the fact he was entering Jorsviek as opposed to fleeing still felt wrong. Something he had never imagined he would ever do willingly, yet there was at least the solace that this could be the only time he would ever have to come back here again. To just deal with Caeris, capture or destroy the Arcus cannon, and be done with this whole mess. They just had to keep their guard up.

“Loose!”

Irven took a deep breath and raised his hands. The air rippled and his barrier grew denser. A dozen bolts struck the wall of force from the narrow slits in the walls and a few from the overhead spaces, spinning in place for a moment before dropping to the ground.

Irven couldn't hold back the smirk as they reloaded, and Tibor chuckled.

He said, “keep it up, lad. We're unstoppable!”

“Let's not count the kobolds until they hatch,” Irven mumbled as another volley struck the barrier. “That was too easy, they're planning something.”

“Like I said,” Tibor replied.

“Lock down!”

The arrow slits and openings on the ceiling snapped shut with thick iron shutters, leaving them in the dark.

“Like you said,” Irven said with a sigh as he maintained the barrier for a silent moment, then let it drop to let his mana recover its potency. They reached the far door, a large and heavy barricade, but it was sealed.

Tibor kept his weapon raised and ready, snapping his aim behind them and around the room, but it was obvious he couldn't see. “Any ideas?”

Irven puckered his lips as he thought, and conjured a small ball of light for Tibor, just like the one he made before his darkvision awakened for the crag-biter tunnels. He briefly amazed himself at how little effort it took to maintain, but then focused.

“I could unpin the hinges on the other side. It shouldn't take long.”

There was a mechanical whir as shutters partially opened. Pipes poked through the gaps and a hissing sound filled the room.

“Shit, is that gas? Cowards,” Tibor grumbled.

Then a few longer pipes poked through a gap in the ceiling, these ones covered in long spikes. They sparked and snapped with electricity as a low hum joined the hissing.

“Vinnie, what's going on?” Tibor covered his eyes from the flashes of light.

Irven gritted his teeth. “They look like some sort of ignition device. The gas isn't to suffocate. It's going to spark the gas and burn us to death. I also bet those devices are designed to arc electricity to anyone who gets close as well. Give me a moment.” He closed his eyes and began to feel out with his magic, trying to shake anything loose where the hinges should be.

Tibor stammered. “H- how long will this take?”

“Just shut up and let me work!”

“Alright! Fine. Damn, for someone claiming to not be Bach's son, you sure-”

Irven yelled, “what did I just say!?”

Tibor sputtered but remained silent, then paced about with his hand tracing the wall for guidance.

He knows his place. He just needs reminding sometimes.

“That goes for you, too,” Irven whispered as he tried to 'feel' for the hinges. Precise work, just as Kayl had enforced; less power, more precision.

The air grew heavy, tinged with... what was that sweet scent? It made Irven's nose tickle.

Chemically separated and stabilised oxygen, vaporised crude oil distillate and an extremely fine, dried drakemould particulate. A medium pressure explosive mix I invented. These walls were designed to withstand the blast.

“Oh, fantastic,” Irven sighed stopped and looked at the ceiling mounted rods, then the hoses. While a dangerous trap, it was slow going.

Damaging the spark rods might work.

Unlikely. You can't get close enough to break them at the base without them electrocuting you, and even if you could, the gas is as buoyant as air. At most it will buy you time until it reaches the stem.

Irven sighed and looked at the hoses.

Stoichiometrically speaking, the gas needs to saturate the room by between fifteen and twenty percent before it will ignite.

“What if we ignite it before it reaches the spark rods?”

Tibor said, “that doesn't sound ideal, lad,”

“I wasn't talking to... never mind. Stand by the door.”

Irven had focused on and mastered telekinesis living in clan Star-Sail, but he remembered one of his first feats of magic; an intensification of his light into a crude, simple blast of fire. The memory of watching the strand of spiderweb catch alight on a candle and almost set fire the book case.

He took a deep breath and considered the expansion of energy. The small flame, consumed by greed just as it consumed the dry kindling, awakening the hunger to consume everything. Greed and gluttony given shape and power.

Irven's fingers crackled and the light swelled and grew intense until it roiled and he could feel its heat. He threw his hand toward one side of the room, in front of the gas pipes, and each burst into blue flame, that licked the opposite wall before settling down in a steady burn. After a few seconds, the pipes on the other side made a low thump as they also caught alight.

As the flames settled, Tibor breathed a sigh of relief, but then patted Irven on the shoulder as he said, “so... what now? We're inside an oven.”

And you realise the mercenaries are expecting an explosion. They won't open the doors any time soon.

Irven pursed his lips, sucked on his teeth, then glanced between the flames and the door.

Then he grinned, and with pinching of his fingers, snuffed the flame on one hose telekinetically.

“Uncle? Get in the corner. I've got an idea.”

* *

Kayl tumbled towards a snow-capped rooftop, but had no time to pull her aquamancy to cushion her fall. As she flipped over, falling back first, she threw her tail back to stall the rotation and landed in the fresh powder with a thud. Kayl caught her breath, groaned and, after moving her arms and legs to make sure nothing was broken, she clutched her shoulder and sat up. Caeris' blades were so keen that the wound wasn't bleeding badly. She tried to ignore the raised human voices and hoped she went unnoticed as she opened a belt pouch and retrieved the half used poultice. Kayl poured it into the wound, and sighed in relief as the magic began to heal the wound as the herbs numbed the pain.

She assessed the rooftop. There were a number of tall chimneys, and the snow had melted around each stack. She stood and took Paet to hand. Something sharp jabbed into the back of her neck and, fishing around in her hood, she pulled out a small piece of dark metal. A shard of coil spring.

The star-steel battery exploding was unexpected, but welcome, Kayl thought with a chuckle. Information like that would once earn a scout a reward, like a week spent away from the risks of full duty to lead the theatre group to give the junior scouts a chance to practice as they told old Star-Sail legends. Kayl could only hope Caeris took a lethal blow from the ruptured spring, but knew that was unlikely with that star-steel armour. Besides, with the theatre on her mind, it wouldn't be a dramatic enough death for a foe like her.

She tried to listen to the voices, but they were hushed and in overcave tongue, so she had trouble picking out anything but individual words. Trap. Fire. Tibor. Mage. Terms that forced Kayl into action once more, despite her wound.

She ran to the rooftops edge. Below, a score of soldiers all stood behind barricades, and between each structure was a human carrying a tower shield, notched on one edge to allow the mercenary to dock a bolter for use in one hand. They all trained their bolters on the large barbican door.

One human shouted, “hey, shut up! It should be any moment now.”

A hush fell over the crowd. Again Kayl felt homesick for one of the clan Star-Sail plays. It made her think on Irven's words about no longer putting herself in danger and just enjoying life. They sounded like a good idea. Kayl still had decades before age would truly slow her down, but so many years fighting, struggling and almost dying flowed through her mind. Kayl realised she was tired of everything.

She couldn't help but snicker. Good, she nodded to herself, she was getting tired of this. She wanted to live, to enjoy herself, to be with Irven every day and every hour.

They were thoughts unbecoming of an exemplar. She didn't care about being a good kobold any more, but they drove her to carry on for the moment. Her mate may be in danger. Her world. Her dragon. Her reason to keep fighting.

Kayl looked once again at the barbican door. Irven and Tibor had to be there, so she travelled along to the ledge, spotted a ladder up to the battlements. She leapt to it, climbed up and travelled around the outer wall.

Above the barbican was a watchtower and, inside, a pair of mercenaries. They huddled around a brazier.

“Funny,” said one, “I expected it to explode by now.”

The other asked, “all the gas lines were working, right?”

“Look, Caeris makes us test it every week. It was one of the last things that dragony bastard Brevshket designed. Even the gas we're using was originally going to be put in this backpack to be used like a portable version of those Firebeard ships from the Vliechoven navy. It worked before, it should work now.”

“Sure, except the Firebeard ships exploded that one time against those sneaky Bralranian dogs decades back. Fire in the water, explosive barrels and such,”

“Why'd you think the Provost designed a gas that could do the same job but keep clear of the water? And anyway, the tanks are still... looks like three quarters full. Even if we don't get an explosion, they'll suffocate. Just keep an eye out, Caeris seemed to think we've got trouble inside the castle.”

Kayl grimaced and tested her shoulder. It was still weak, but it should be enough. Kayl gripped Paet and entered.

She crept up behind the first human and brought the scythe blade up to the first man's throat. She drew the razor sharp edge across with a gag and a wet sputter, rushed forward and thrust the spear into the second man's jaw and up into his brain. She then hammered the armour spike into the first man's chest and into his heart, then looked around the room.

There was a tangle of pipes, and a few had glass vessels with blue flames burning inside. The plethora of dials, gauges and levers baffled Kayl. There was also a large, chained, toothed wheel, no doubt for the drawbridge, but it the chains were slack, and a quick glance over the edge showed the bridge was still broken open.

One of these controls had to open the doors. Kayl began to take a closer look at the valves.

A deep, bass thud. The ground rumbled for a moment.

“There it is,” one human bellowed, and the other mercenaries cheered.

“No,” Kayl whimpered. She climbed up the inner-wall arrow slit and looked outside as the crowd pumped their fists skyward, then relaxed.

“Now, switch off the gas! You, open the door. The rest of you, keep ready!”

“For what? If anyone's still alive, they'll come running out, screaming and on fire.”

“That'll be a laugh!”

“We're dealing with a mage! Eyes forward and bolters at there ready!”

There was a ratcheting noise below, and the creak of a great door.

“See? Nothi- what's that?”

The haze of intense heat flowed over the courtyard. At least it looked like haze. Kayl sniffled and sneezed as something sweet irritated her nose.

The mass swept over the crowd and shimmered with a blue sparkle in the brazier light.

“Gas leak, hit the deck!”

A gout of blue flame sparked from the braziers and spat across the field of mercenaries. The low roar couldn't mask the feral screams from the mercenaries closest to the door as the fire blanketed them and set the barricades alight. The others dived away and scurried for distance as those struck seemed to transform, the fires switching from blue to orange as they squealed in fear and pain, stumbling and falling to the floor. Some rolled in the snow and managed to douse themselves, but Kayl had seen humans pass away from lesser wounds; these were their final, agonising hours.

Then he emerged. Telekinetic fields swirled around him. Blue fire coiled and snaked around his barrier as the mercenaries fled his power and might.

Kayl's dragon.

Tibor stepped out behind him and shot a few bolts on the fleeing group, even as the remaining shield carriers blockaded the main path to protect their number as they withdrew.

Kayl darted out of the building and clambered down the stairs just as Irven let the fires fade, then he spotted her.

Their eyes met, and Kayl leapt into his arms.

“Thank the All-Dragon,” Kayl said and hugged him with all the strength she could muster. “I was so worried! How did you survive that?”

“I would ask the same, if I wasn't so sure you'd succeed,” Irven replied with a chuckle and kissed her on top of her head. “And just a clever use of a couple of barriers and a controlled explosion. I'll explain later.”

Kayl licked Irven's cheek, but Tibor just stared, his helmet obscured his reaction, before they all heard a mechanical rattle. Gears and linkages in motion from the tower.

“Damn it,” Kayl uttered. “I thought I got rid of all the coil batteries.”

Irven shrugged. “They could have spares. Did you damage the cannon?”

“I don't think so. I wasn't able to find a way to sabotage it beyond disposing of most of spring coils.”

Tibor said, “even lower grade coils will do the job, it'll just take longer. Come on! We have a couple of minutes at best if they're charging them in sequence. We need to go. Now!”

They rushed up the path, only for a sparking grenade to bounce in front of them. Irven and Kayl both raised their arms, and a barricade of ice and force cushioned the blast. The shrapnel and smoke hadn't even begun to clear when a flurry of sustained bolter fire forced Irven's focus to start to falter. He gestured for them all to them take cover.

Irven glanced up at the tower. “We can't afford this delay. We don't know when they'll be able to fire again, and they're staggering their shots. Bursts of power I can block, but they're getting wise; a constant attack is harder to block.”

“And they're dug in,” Tibor said as he reloaded. “We need a new plan.”

Kayl watched Tibor as he made a different motion, opening a panel and ejecting a coil battery, and replacing it with a new one.

“Do you have any more of those?” she asked.

Tibor replied, “two. Why?”

“And do you have any spare star-steel?”

“Four bolts I intend to stick into Caeris.”

Irven continued, “he used one trying to shoot her from the battlements. What are you thinking, Kayl?”

She glanced over the rooftops. “Irven, could you hover one of the batteries over the soldiers? And Tibor, could you shoot it?”

Irven and Tibor glanced at each other.

Ah, an enforced critical tension failure and a resultant shrapnel spray. A waste of materials, but I suppose the situation warrants such a desperate ploy.

“It's a small target,” Tibor said, lifting his visor and stroking his ginger beard. “But sure, if you put it in front of a source of light.”

A voice cried out from the tower, “coils one and two charged!”

Kayl growled, then said, “I'll delay them. Send me up there with your magic. A telekinetic cocoon. I'll be fine.”

Irven protested, “alone? I won't-”

She climbed up his body, clutched his face and stared into his eyes. “Give me your power! I'll be fine if I-”

He interrupted her back with a deep, heavy kiss.

Kayl shivered as his magic flowed through the skin on scale, then deep tongue, contact. The love and convergence of their bond was a raging torrent. His boundless power flooded her until it hurt, but she relished the pain. The slow healing in her shoulder accelerated, the wound sealing in moments.

It was a lethal dose of magic if kept inside for too long, but it was attuned between them, like the common bond of dragonlord and servant. She was Irven's kobold. Not Praevadi's. Irven's, and Irven's alone. It felt more natural, and she would spend it soon enough; if she had the opportunity, she would freeze the very blood in Caeris' rotten heart.

The kiss broke, and Kayl did her best to hide her disappointment as he put her down on the ground, then she felt weightless as his magic lifted her once more.

“Stay safe, my love,” Irven said, hiding his own concern as she flew up to the cannon. The snow swirled up with her as she drew deep in her restored mana.

“I'll see you there, my dragon.”

Kayl took Paet in her hand as she was flung skyward in a precise arc. There was the snap of a few bolters, but none hit their mark as she reached and landed on the cannon platform with a deluge of snow in tow.

“Caeris!” Kayl twirled her spear in a grand flourish, the blade swirling with a storm of ice that sparkled in the light. She roared, “Kayl of the Mists shall take your head!”

Ten mercenaries, clustered together, armed and on guard, turned and got into a tight formation. Two pavisades, four bolters and four with swords and smaller shields.

Caeris wasn't here.

Kayl growled, but she had stop the Arcus cannon from firing. She threw a swarm of icy shards at the crowd which exploded into a dense fog for cover as she ran towards the machine.

No sooner than she had reached the massive weapon, the walls rattled and began to rise, and she saw the recesses of the cannon's mechanisms were empty. It wasn't being charged at all.

It was a trap.

* *

“Heh.”

“Don't start,” Irven said as his uncle pulled out another coil battery, and handed it to him_._

Tibor continued to chuckle. “What? I didn't say anything. Certainly nothing about taking in the... local colour.”

He doesn't understand. He probably never will. So few appreciate the majesty of scales...

“Now is not not the time,” Irven said to both voices, and examined the coil battery.

”Six hundred kheva... Bach would scoff at such a waste,” Tibor said with a sigh, “but let's do this.”

Irven looked the battery over as Tibor removed his current magazine, took out another and stripped one bolt from it. He then loaded the fletched star-steel spike into his bolter and put the butt-stock of his weapon into his shoulder.

“I'm ready when you are, lad.”

A fizzing, and a metallic clack.

Irven threw up another barrier in time for another grenade blast. He then threw the battery over the nearest roof, toward where the mercenary band were stationed.

Tibor raised his bolter to his shoulder, and Irven let a hole form in the barrier as the old soldier raised his aim to the floating battery. He trailed it until stopped over where Irven could best guess was the right spot, tightened his grip.

A patter of footfalls. A swish of a blade in the air, a high snap, and Tibor's grunt of pain, punctuated with a clattering of metal and wood pieces and the crackle and hiss of his music box.

“Oh,” Tibor uttered.

Irven's focus faded and he looked across. The white, eight-eyed mask of Caeris. The sundered bolter falling from Tibor's arms in many pieces.

The curved end of a star-steel blade run through Tibor's gut.

Irven took half a step forward and he reached for his uncle. All his power, all his training, the preparation for this mission, and the momentum they had built fighting side by side, and it had all just come apart in a split second.

Caeris shoved Tibor away as she pulled her blade free, and Tibor fell to the floor.

“Uncle!” Irven drew Heun and thrust his sword, only for Caeris to deflect the attack with a half-hearted twirl of her own.

She then dipped under the blade and drove the pommel of her sabre into his ribs with one hand and uppercut him with the other sword's guard. She then stood upright and drove her forehead into his nose, hopped a step back, and finally spun on her foot with a wide kick that crashed into Irven's brow.

He reeled as his eyes watered, his head span and he crashed into the wall, slipped in the snow and fell onto his back. He couldn't see clearly. His ears rang, his ribs ached and his head throbbed.

“At last,” she whispered. “I have you.”

Irven panicked and lashed out with Heun. The drenda snagged her leg. She tripped, but spun as she fell, and swung her blade clean through Heun and severed the part holding Irven's sword. Caeris landed softly and rolled to the side as she pushed herself to her feet.

Heun coiled back as he bled sap and switched arms, then knotted up into a cudgel.

Caeris spun, her cloak obscuring her form.

Heun hit nothing but air, and in his dazed state, Irven flailed wildly with his drenda.

A chill ran up his left arm. It felt numb. He looked at it.

His arm was on the floor. Severed, twitching and covered in his blood. Then the pain set in. Raw fire shot through his shoulder. Every thing grew dim except the agony as Irven screamed and clutched at the bleeding stump.

Caeris stood over him and said, “regrettable, but you'll live...” She tapped her pommel against an object hanging from her belt. It rang with a piercing chime. The same that sapped Irven's focus outside the wall.

This close, it overwhelmed his senses and even gave him relief from the extreme pain, and the last thing he saw was Caeris produce a long, metal tube with a fine needle protruding from one end from he belt, which she stabbed into his neck before he blacked out.

* *

“There!”

Kayl ducked as a bolt zipped overhead and ricocheted off the cannon. Soldiers emerged from the icy fog and, pulling more of her bolstered magic, she threw a javelin of hardened ice back at them. One of the shielded humans moved in front and the projectile shattered. They formed together as a unit once more. Kayl had no choice but to keep on the defensive.

She only had so much liquid in the room, but used all she could muster to create a swirling blizzard around the soldier formation. As they became saturated, more her power could affect them. One found icicles sprout beneath her armour and dug into her skin, while another began to drown as water filled his lungs.

“Break her focus! Keep on the attack!”

One threw a grenade and forced Kayl to drop her magic. She batted the fizzling bomb from the air with Paet, then she dive for cover as it exploded. Shrapnel grazed her thigh but she scrambled beneath the Arcus cannon and bought herself a few seconds.

Kayl realised that if Caeris wasn't here, she was targetting Irven. He had to be that monster's prize, even if Kayl didn't know for what purpose.

She hurried for the door and ignored the remaining soldiers, but a bolt narrowly zipped by her muzzle. Kayl dived and rolled, then pulled the rest of the blizzard to her and compacted it into a shield, then once more reached for the door handle. Another bolt punched through the ice and grazed her cheek. She switched tactics once more, blasting her useless barrier into a shower of slush toward her foes and resumed her original plan of the swirling blizzard as she dashed behind a table.

One of the mercenaries barked, “we've got her pinned! Reload! You, move in!”

Kayl didn't panic easily, but she felt her heart race and thoughts scattered from her mind. What could she do?

She wished she had her duplicate. Kayl never had time to set up the complex spell, but a disposable distraction would be perfect. Some other trick would have to do. She fell back on the doctrine of the scouts as she heard the mercenary's bolters finish reloading.

“Wait until you're sure of the shot! She can't keep this magic up forever!”

For every intruder, a trail; Kayl could hear their footfalls approaching. Their focus was set on the table, watching for any movement. She couldn't flee, even if her ongoing miniature blizzard was buying her time.

For every strike, a weakness; they weren't perfect shots, and humans were slow attackers. She needed something swift, to set them in pursuit long enough to fool them into thinking she was no longer there.

For every defence, an opening; Kayl could see the door. No doubt locked. She had a key, and hopefully the right one. Yet optimism was the path to failure in such situations, so she needed as much time as she could muster in case Paet had to work the tumblers.

What did she have? Paet, her armour, her winter-wear cloak, the key, and the human dagger. Scouts were frugal, even if Kayl wasn't scout-master any more. That position went to...

“Roat,” Kayl whispered, flashed a grin and licked her teeth. She pulled her cloak free and drew on her magic; she had spent the excess, her natural reserves once more tapped and Kayl began to feel the fatigue once more, but this wouldn't take much. Kayl formed a layer of ice inside her cloak in a rigid, jointed structure. With a wave of her hand, the cloak floated at speed off to the side. A copy of his rigid-cloak trick.

“Get'er!”

Frantic footfalls moved away as Kayl sent them on a chase, then ran to the door. It was locked, as expected, but the key didn't fit. She pressed Paet against the keyhole and let the drenda probe the lock as she observed the humans.

They chased her cloak, but Kayl saw their rising confusion as the occasional bolter shot cleanly punched through it, yet the thing kept running. Eventually, one of them managed a clean cut against the cloak's cowl, and exposed the ruse as the hood fell off.

“What the-” one said, and glanced around, then towards Kayl. “Wait, she's over there!”

Kayl heard a click from the lock, made Paet hook and turn the handle as she ducked on reflex against the floor as she saw a bolt strike the door-frame.

Paet pulled the door open and she dived through. She pulled Paet with her, slammed the door shut behind her and pulled whatever ice she could into the bolt to freeze it in place.

Kayl breathed a of relief as the humans reached the door and began hammering and kicking, then she rushed down the only corridor as fast as she could. A split in the path, but stairs on one end. Kayl leapt down the flight and sprinted through the corridors until a door blocked her path.

She tested the handle but it was locked, then tried the key and turned, nodded as it clicked and entered, only to almost bump into a human.

Kayl yelped as an old man squealed and backed against the wall as she pointed Paet at his chest. A few other humans in their nightclothes gasped and huddled together through a nearby side door and stared at her with fear in their eyes.

The old man pleaded, “don't hurt me! I'm just the castle fizishon.”

Kayl squinted. “A what?”

He muttered and clarified, “I heal people! I'm not a soldier. We're just the castle staff!”

She sighed with relief and continued on.

The tower grew wider as she went lower, but each central corridor mercifully led to another stairway. Several floors passed, all unoccupied, should have been a boon, but each second was painful.

The air grew cold, a few errant snowflakes glanced by as Kayl reached the ground floor. A single soldier stood at the exit.

It was too quiet. Kayl's heart went cold, but she remained steadfast. She stabbed the mercenary in the back of the head with Paet, pushed him so he fell sideways from the door, out of sight, then peered outside.

There were still many mercenaries around, all milling about and dealing with their fallen comrades. What had happened?

Kayl crept outside and moved back into the shadows.

* *

It was over. He had to be dead.

No. We live yet, boy. As I have said before, we are eternal. But I think Caeris has drugged your body. We're stuck in your subconscious.

Irven couldn't possibly be immortal.

Of course not. My body died, as can yours, but we are made of the same draconic spirit. It was what I took from Kraerivan, gave me back my youth and extended my life. I could regenerate from any non-lethal wound, as can you.

So what now, he thought.

I am bound to your senses. While you lay dormant, I cannot act beyond your influence. Try speaking normally for now.

Irven became aware of a light. It spread through his vision, and... hearing? He felt the light.

He opened his eyes, and found he was on a vast, grey surface. Soft gradients of dark and light flowed through even hills, and on one horizon was a vast cliff, rough and cracked. While the near featureless landscape made guessing difficult, Irven could only assume the cliff was thousands of feet high.

A swirl of fog appeared, and after a few moments, familiar green scales filled the space inside. Arbachol Brevshket, dressed (as always) in his greatcoat.

“There, that's better,” he said. Bach turned around and squinted his slitted, bronze coloured eyes around the grey void. “Hmm... I feel like I've seen this place before. Long ago...”

Irven felt none of his usual fear. Not now, not after all the mess he had gone through. He grabbed Bach by the collar and snapped, “explain. Everything.”

Bach smirked. “Hateful little boy. Normally I would not let you disrespec-”

Irven punched him as hard as he could in the face but kept his grip. “Shut up and tell me everything! Why you experimented on me! What is this whole debacle is about!?”

“Fine,” Bach said and licked his sharp teeth. “Let's start with one simple truth: I never experimented on you.”

“Liar!” Irven grabbed his collar with both hands and shook.

A golden light shimmered over them. A warmth, like a summer breeze.

Irven glanced around again. “What was that?”

“A sympathetic magical presence?” Bach ran a claw over his chin in thought, then snapped his fingers. “Kayl. You poured your power into her. You're draconic enough that she is now your kobold, akin to to the way magic is shared between greater and lesser drakes. Wait here, I will do what I can to assist her.”

Irven tightened his grip and said, “no, wait, I need to-”

Bach vanished, and Irven sighed, sat down, and obeyed.

As if he had a choice. As always, he was the plaything of those greater than himself.

* *

The snow had stopped and a stillness had taken over, just as the mercenaries had reclaimed the courtyard.

Kayl remained on the same rooftop she had fallen on earlier, out of sight and near enough to one of the chimneys that the radiating heat from within helped with maintaining her heat due to her missing cloak. Plots and ploys spun through her mind, and eliminating the less viable ones was all too easy; almost every move was a bad one, and the situation couldn't be much worse.

She spied Irven, his wounds were being dressed and treated by the castle surgeon she had seen earlier. His severed arm, still wrapped in the equally subdued Heun, lay packed with snow close to him. It took every grain of her experience not to either fall to pieces at seeing her mate hurt or fly into a rage and throw her life away in an attempt to get revenge. Professionalism stayed both fruitless endeavours for now, but passion would be ready when it came to slaying Caeris, and every human that had harmed Irven.

Tibor was sat against a wall, under heavy guard, and he seemed conscious but badly wounded. This confused her, as she remembered well their intent to kill the human, but she also supposed he could be used as leverage to take over Werchid by forcing the militia to stand down. His prized bolter lay in pieces nearby.

Irven was alive, but sedated. Even his severed arm was currently bound by Heun, and further subdued by a soldier occasionally tapping Caeris' chime. That had to be her first target. Eliminate the chime from the fight, and many strategies became viable.

A voice said, “I'm guessing chime first.”

Kayl almost screeched like a neonate as she skittered back and swung Paet on reflex.

Roat grinned and hopped back, his hands raised as the spear came far too short.

“H- how!?” Kayl stammered. “When!?”

Roat sighed. “Not quick enough to spare the biggun his arm, but I've got the lay of the land. And please, mother, I'm chief scout, remember? You may have your horns scraping clouds like a dragon, but that just means I can do the dirty stuff on the ground a lot easier. Though, honestly? We're not winning this; too many man-kin, too few of us. We might have to wait and watch what they do with Irven, then execute an escape to get reinforcements.”

Kayl growled and went to argue, but what choice did they have?

To fall into despair so readily? Perhaps I gave you too much credit, my murderer.

Kayl winced and held her head.

“Mother? What's wrong?”

It would be unwise to waste time explaining. We must act swiftly. Let me think for just a moment over what you know...

“Something strange, but nothing important, son,” Kayl said and shook her head. It was either a half-hearted to shake her old nemesis free, or just getting used to having a voice inside her head. Both.

Take an excess of the healing poultice from your boy, then make contact with Irven. I then suggest you make use of your ability to vomit on command to prevent the arousal; St. Phoebe's weed is slower to absorb than drakemould and you should remain lucid.

Kayl pondered what he had planned.

Are you aware of a mana-burn? Sometimes called a draconic rage?

She was. Magic radiated from dragons and kobolds would absorb this ambient shedding of power. Each subject then altered it enough to make it 'pure' for the original dragon to reabsorb. This symbiosis was the keystone of all dragon life; kobolds gained wellness from their dragon and the dragon gained might from every kobold once attuned. A vulnerability and a strength born of the All-Dragon to enforce coexistence between the two drakes.

A mana-burn, on the other hand, consumed a dragon's own magic directly into their own body. This made them tremendously strong in body and magic, but also left the spent mana in the blood, rapidly becoming toxic as it recycled over and over. Few dragons went into this state willingly, though some older dragons did as an emergency measure, and instead was a result of tremendous emotional or physical trauma.

I'm going to inflict one on Irven. Both you and your boy should secure Tibor and flee once you succeed, because I don't know how Irven will respond. It's unlikely he'll be able to tell friend from foe.

Kayl gulped. “Roat? I need you to distract them away from Irven. And I'll need two flasks of poultice.”

Roat smirked, no doubt remembering Kayl's own reports of her overdose when she first met Irven, but nodded and handed over the flasks.

He then took out his own drenda, Soer, a billhook and spear headed weapon, and double checked his supply of distraction poppers and smoke pellets, as well as a coil battery.

Kayl went to ask where he got it from, then he pulled out a star-steel bolt, and realised he must have secured them from Tibor's broken weapon,

She instead said, “did you know they explode when struck-”

Roat wiggled the bolt and replied, “by another piece of star-steel? Of course. Anyway, get up close as you can to that soldier with the chime and I'll do the rest.” He climbed over to and up the castle wall, out of sight.

Kayl popped the corks on the poultice flasks and guzzled both down. Within moments, the magic-rich puffball decoction within began to flow into her blood, even while the herbal aspects would take some time to digest. Considering the dose she had already taken, she doubted it would take long.

She climbed back down and skulked over to the chime wielding mercenary, and observed the courtyard for potential threats. Caeris was watching the physician work on Irven, but suddenly glanced up at the tower.

She stared for a few moments, then suddenly called out, “be on watch. The Arcus team has likely failed to eliminate the kobold.”

Kayl winced; this human's cunning was as admirable as it was frustrating.

Caeris paced and glanced about. She then pulled a red-tipped metal rod from her belt. She stuck it into a nearby brazier, with the tip catching alight in a brilliant flash of light. It was some kind of flare, and it stung Kayl's eyes. Caeris then began to patrol down the snow-covered edges of the courtyard with the intense alchemical torch held high. The very areas Kayl had used to keep out of sight.

She snapped her gaze to either side, then said, “she's here. On alert! Watch the shadows! You three! Cover each other and get up the wall, I want spotlights on every corner! If you sense anything amiss, call out!”

Kayl backed away and again felt like her options were dwindling by the moment.

Hold your nerve, kobold. You trust your son implicitly, and with good reason judging by your memories.

That was easy for him to say, but Kayl watched the elected mercenaries as they climbed the stairs up, weapons ready and on alert. One watched ahead, the second behind and the third watched up. They moved untested until they went beyond Kayl's vision on the wall.

One of them soon called out, “hey, boss?”

“What is it?” Caeris responded.

“We've found a coil battery. It's... attached to one of the spotlights?”

Caeris tilted her head, confusion evident despite her expressionless mask, before she gasped and went to shout.

Everyone gasped as a ear-splitting twang rang out. Sparks, the sound of splintering stone, metallic clatter. A small shard of star-metal embedded in the wall above Kayl's head.

Finally, a scream of pain from the men on the wall. “Oh fuck! It... it exploded! What-”

A gristly thwack interrupted the voice. Then a solid thud as a human head landed in the middle of the courtyard and rolled into the snow. Then Roat's high cackle filled the air.

“Hey, man-kin! Come get me,” he said, imitating Kayl's voice.

Caeris yelled, “she's on the wall! Get up there and take her out! Norvas, stay there and keep that chime active and your weapon trained on Darnaq!”

There it was. The opportunity. The mercenaries grouped up and approached the stairs in a defensive formation, some even held their shields overhead to resist any attacks from above.

Caeris climbed up onto the nearest roof, overlooking the courtyard and watched the mercenaries as they ascended, but all Kayl needed to do was reach Irven.

Once the humans had reached the top of the wall, a scattering of smoke pellets and poppers ignited in a wide scatter. Caeris walked to the edge of the roof and stared into the dark as the soldiers yelled and barked at each other to remain in formation, even while others coughed at the smoke and yelped at the sound and flashing alchemical pops. Norvas, the human with the chime, watched and became distracted. He let the chime fall silent.

Kayl bolted from the dark, spun Paet in a high arc and ripped Norvas' throat clear open. She hopped and snatched the chime from his grip and hurled it high and far over the wall, then rushed into the courtyard. The physician tending to Irven reeled in fear as she pounced on her mate, both as hastily and as gently as she dared.

“Come back to me, my dragon,” Kayl said, pressed her cheek against his and held him.

Damn it. He's too sedated to draw on your power. Hold on, I'll try to rouse him.

Kayl bared her teeth as she heard the crunch of snow from a heavy landing.

“So there were more of you after all,” Caeris whispered as she drew her swords. “No matter.”

Kayl wondered whether Brevshket would be quick enough, but that felt like more hopeless optimism. Instead, she stood and readied Paet. Kayl looked at the snow around her, but didn't know how much magic she may need to help Irven, so withheld from using her powers for now.

Caeris tilted her head and studied Kayl. “You're unusually skilled,” she said in draconic. “An exemplar?”

She hated to waste time with words, but Kayl needed to delay this fight; every second taken was time for Brevshket to awaken Irven. “Yes. I am Kayl of the Mists.”

“Of the mists? Ah, the aquamancy,” Caeris said, almost inaudible, then became louder. “Hmph. That makes sense.”

“I'm curious,” Kayl continued. “You were Brevshket's follower. Why are you siding with Vliechov now? Weren't they enemies?”

“I'm sure I would still be loyal, but you slew him,” Caeris said, her eyes narrowing. “Without my master, this region is doomed. I was simply protecting his greatest work from that vile fool, Tibor.”

“And Irven? How does he fit into all this?”

Caeris calmed as she looked down at him. “Living proof that scalecasters can be made without drawing the ire of the public. Humans with all the arcane might of a dragon, instead of the meagre, aged pretenders from the Institute, to usher in a better age for us all. I did not wish to hurt him, but you have no doubt poisoned him against his own kind. Even so, he will recover, and he will be a greater peace offering than even the cannon.”

Without warning she lunged.

Kay flipped to the side. She heard the swoop of a blade, and raised Paet to intercept. The clash of metal, an attack deflected. A deep gouge in the pick-head of her weapon.

Another swing from Caeris. Kayl stepped back, then rushed in. She thrust her spear, despite the futility. Star-steel would endure the blow, but maybe Caeris would respond. Maybe even go on the defensive.

Caeris laughed. Paet's blade pushed against her. She swatted the spear aside, raised a foot and stomped down.

Kayl rolled forward, but dropped Paet. The spear coiled around Caeris' leg. Kayl drew her stolen dagger. Caeris stumbled as Paet reached with his tendrils and grappled with the human's other leg, and Kayl leapt onto Caeris' back. She scrambled higher, hooked her tail around one of Caeris' arms and jabbed the dagger's tip into Caeris' mask to get her eyes. The human turned her head as the dagger struck the impenetrable plate.

Caeris slashed over her head. Kayl rocked back, dropped lower, but latched her arms around her foe's neck and swung her tail back. Kayl pulled with all her strength.

Again, Caeris stumbled and Paet continued to entangle the human's legs, but she then stabbed overhead with her sabre.

The blade cut Kayl's shoulder. She dodged for another thrust. then dropped to the ground and grabbed Paet, and pulled as she stabbed the back of Caeris' knee.

Between Paet's entrapment and the impact, Caeris began to topple, but spun, landed deftly on one sword-clenched fist, cartwheeled back onto her feet and set upon Kayl with a double swing, but the blades caught nothing but air.

The pair separated for a moment. Kayl pressed the dagger against the butt of Paet's shaft, and he took hold. She then twirled the double ended weapon to test the weight, took a deep breath, and ducked into a ready stance.

Caeris continued to laugh. “Oh, how fun. It's entertaining watching your kind panic and scamper about.”

Kayl snarled, “and humans tend to piss themselves and die screaming for their mothers. You'll be no different. You're nothing but selfish, short lived scum who stand against the natural order as ordained by the All-Dragon. Pretenders who toy with powers beyond their station!”

She grunted as the poultice began to addle her mind. An arousing tingle ran through her. The racing blood in her veins just spread the St. Phoebe's weed quicker into her system and would only distract her. With a single retch, she vomited the remaining undigested chemicals in a steaming pile on the floor and coughed at the acidic, stinging burn of bile in her throat.

Caeris didn't waste the perceived distraction. She charged and hacked at Kayl, who ducked and scrambled on all fours to keep away, then dug in her clawed feet and threw all her strength into a thrust of her spear.

It struck her foe's chest, and even earned a grunt from the impact, but Caeris' much greater mass shoved Kayl off her feet as Paet bowed. Caeris then grabbed Paet by the shaft and hacked down with a sword, severing him in two with a spray of sap. The two halves writhed and Kayl withdrew with her dagger-bearing half. She drew inspiration from her mate as the remaining part of Paet coiled around her arm, and Kayl raised a desperate guard.

Caeris recovered her momentum and rushed in. The swings came hard and fast, and Kayl stepped back and was nicked on the chest, then leapt to the side, and took another scratch. She then dipped too close to be cut with her opponent's swords. Caeris snapped her knee into Kayl in the snout and caused her to stumble, the impact making her eyes water.

Raw instinct made Kayl dive low and back and lashed out with the dagger. Caeris' sabre cut through it, then Kayl's arm across the bicep. She screamed and her arm fell slack.

As a last resort, Kayl used her other arm to throw a ball of snow at Caeris. It hardened in the air and shattered on the human's mask.

Caeris finally gave a pained snarl as shards passed through the eye-slits.

Kayl stumbled back and clutched her wounded arm. Her warm blood covered her hand. She then grinned despite the pain. Every part of her could have a use...

Irven is stirring! Hurry!

Caeris wiped her sleeve across her eyes, and rolled her neck and resumed her attack.

Kayl threw more ice at her foe, who barely turned her head away to just evade the harder impact, and continued to advance. Kayl then hurled one last attack.

A ball of vomit.

It struck with a wet thud, and Kayl focused harder on controlling and forcing the brown-green sludge into the gaps of Caeris' mask.

The human screamed and gagged as the chemical rich, acrid muck smothered her eyes, nose and mouth. She plunged one sword into the ground and pulled her mask up. She spat and scooped out the bile as Kayl rushed back over to Irven and, once more, pressed her cheek against his.

Kayl felt it; a coolness within her as magic was drawn from her body, but none of the warmth returned to her from Irven's own power that usually ensued. She became dizzy and weak as he drew deeply from her magic.

Then a presence; Kayl shoved herself away just as Caeris, her mask back on, took a low swing. It narrowly missed Irven, so Kayl backed farther away, to lure her out, but Caeris stopped and looked down at him. Then she pointed her sabre at his neck.

“... surrender.”

A bluff. It had to be.

Caeris laughed. “You think I won't? He would make a fine prize for Vliechov, but I still have the Arcus cannon and, without Tibor in the way, I can take Werchid peacefully as well as compensation. Now, be a good kobold and die for your master. Start by dropping your weapon.”

Kayl glanced at Paet's severed form in her hand, then the other half across the courtyard. She took a deep breath, ran the cut stump against her wounded arm to smear her blood on him, and tossed Paet towards his other half, and hoped he still had the strength to mend himself back together. She had nothing left in her. Even if Kayl couldn't use him, maybe Irven could if he awoke, and could use him to fight back.

“On your knees.”

Kayl grimaced, and hesitated.

The sabre tip pressed into Irven's neck.

“I said on. Your. Kne-”

A mighty, deep bellow. Tibor.

He tackled Caeris, wrapped his arms around her, lifted her from the ground, and charged her head straight into a wall. She slumped from the impact as Tibor stepped back.

“This isn't over, Vliechoven whore,” he snarled as he clutched his gut wound. He then slammed his boot into her face, over and over, but each impact grew slower and his breathing turned ragged.

He then roared in pain as she slashed a sabre across his knee. He fell back as Caeris stood, shaken but still focused, and raised her blade to finish Tibor off.

A high screech filled the air. Roat leapt from the wall, Soer in both hands and held aloft. He slammed the billhook down on Caeris' head. So great was the impact that Roat couldn't control the end of his fall, and he landed in a heap.

Caeris hood resisted the cut, but she still stumbled from the blunt impact, stumbling as she did, yet still lashed out with her sword. It cut Roat's leg as he tried to roll back and staggered away. Undeterred, he threw a popper at her face with a loud flash. Caeris bowed her head as she spun and fell against the wall.

Yet she still remained on her feet. She just took a long, deep breath and brought her blades up and ready. Roat kept his weapon at the ready, but limped backward as Caeris cut at him until he was no longer near, then turned her attention back to Kayl.

“She's a monster,” Kayl gasped, and succumbed to her fatigue as she slumped to the floor. She couldn't even respond as Caeris ran at her, flipped her sword in a reverse grip.

And stabbed.

A wet splat. Purple sap dripped into the snow in front of Kayl.

Heun, at full reach, had caught the sword.

Caeris looked up and gasped. Tibor and Roat did the same. Kayl turned.

Irven stood, low and feral on his arm and legs. Heun was rooted in Irven's missing arm, and pulsed with mana. Irven's eyes glowed yellow, piercing and hateful.

He pulled the sword from her grip and stumbled forward and loosed a feral snarl, somewhere between human and dragon as he tried to grasp Caeris.

She fended off Heun as he reached with his tendrils. Each cut simply regrew in moments until they were so many, she couldn't cut them fast enough. With one precise sweep, she managed to cut herself free, but then one grabbed her arm.

With a sudden twist, her arm popped and crunched as she screamed in agony. Irven kept twisting.

Caeris first pulled the fraying flesh taut, sliced her other sword through it and severed her own arm. Then, somehow, despite everything she had endured, she fled down the path, towards the barbican.

Irven staggered to his feet and roared to the sky, then thrust his hand towards Caeris. The air between the two distorted as force thrust from his hand and surrounded Caeris.

She was lifted clean off her feet as she finally seemed to panic as she struggled, then her remaining limbs were stretched outward.

The soldiers from the wall charged down the stairs and rushed at Irven, and he turned his focus to them. Caeris crashed to the ground as he lashed out at the mercenaries with Heun.

The drenda spread into a nest of large thorns that smashed through the whole group and sent them in a sprawl, or slammed into the buildings and some were even launched over the wall. Even the ones that still moved just scurried away as Irven picked up one from the ground with his magic.

Irven squeezed the man until, with a scream cut short, he was compressed into a gory pulp that sprayed blood all over the courtyard. He dropped the steaming mass of human flesh and grabbed another soldier who screamed for help. All the others just cowered in fear.

Kayl looked over to where Caeris had been, but she was gone. It was over. Every single soul in Jorsviek had suffered this night, but Clan Star-Sail had won.

Even stranger, after a night of death and destruction, Kayl felt troubled by all the violence. Her own, that which Irven had been trained to enact, the warmongering of Tibor, the monstrous dedication of Caeris... Kayl felt sick, beyond the fatigue and wounds. It all felt wrong. Even conquests and missions of her past flittered in her mind, deeds that had to be accomplished, but now felt hollow. She glanced at the bodies, the fallen that would yet die, those irrevocably harmed...

It was over. Horrifically so.

Kayl forced herself to her feet, and staggered over to Irven. “Stop, that's enough,” she pleaded and pulled his coat.

He dropped the mercenary and stared at her for a moment. She felt his will smother hers. She felt empty, a mere extension of his demands. Trapped within herself, but he looked confused and unsure. She then felt his anger. The desire to just kill everything.

Brevshket suddenly appeared between them.

“Enough, Irven. Focus on me. Understand what you are. Control it. Master it! This is everything I have prepared you for. You know what is within you. A biological and magical process that, just as any other, can be bent you your will!”

Irven flinched and lost his savage edge, and his eyes stopped glowing. Brevshket raised his left arm up to shoulder height, and Irven moved his right in the same way, like a reflection.

“Harness it,” Brevshket said, calmly and slowly. “The dragon within... anything they can do, you can as well. Draw on the power you have, and that you have borrowed from Kayl. The strength of a dragon lay not just within the self, but in those around him.”

Brevshket raised his right arm. Irven's face twisted in confusion, then pain. Heun writhed and wriggled free, his vestigial roots receding from Irven's missing limb as the drenda fell to the ground.

Kayl watched, shocked, as Irven's severed stump throbbed and sputtered out leftover sap, then blood, then seemed to seal itself.

Then it began to regenerate. Bone sprouted, flesh grew to catch up, interwoven with nerves. Blood vessels branched out and spread and regrouped. Irven clutched the new limb with his other hand as the elbow formed, and then the forearm. Just as the regeneration reached his hand, Kayl noticed the skin begin to grow back on the new limb.

Only, instead of just skin, hardened and ridged sections formed, shaped like tiny shields. Scales. Green like Brevshket's, but tinged blue like Kayl's own, turning a vibrant, deep turquoise.

Brevshket looked smug.

No.

Happy. Proud. In a sense of wonder as he stepped away from Irven. His former student watched as his hand formed, but with only four digits instead of five. Like a dragon or a kobold's own. Each tipped with a large, sturdy claw as the skin and scale caught up and looked as natural as if it had always been that way.

Irven's stared at his new limb, then Brevhsket, then finally Kayl.

“I...”

Then he collapsed.

“Irven!” Kayl ran over and huddled over her mate as Brevshket began to fade.

But as he did, he turned to the men who still lived, and the surgeon that had started tending to their wounds. Brevshket's presence dominated everyone's attention.

He shouted, “listen to me! I, Arbachol Brevshket, the true owner of this land, relinquish command of Castle Jorsviek to my heir!” He pointed down to his old student. “Irven Brevshket, my son, is now lord of Sodrascouden!” Then he looked at and barked, “Tibor!”

The old soldier grunted in pain and stammered for a moment before he answered, “I don't even know what's going on any more... yes, sir?”

Again, an honest smile formed on the phantasm's green muzzle. “Guide and help him, old friend. Just as I know you, Kayl,” he said as he looked at her, “shall assist him in turn.”

And then Brevshket faded in full, leaving behind the slaughter of the attack on Jorsviek, and as many questions as answers.

* - *

Caeris ran. Decades of experience, training and chemical stimulants had failed her. All that mattered now was survival. She would probably bleed out, but it didn't matter. She was determined to come back from this.

With all the deftness she could muster, she pulled off her belt and used it as a tourniquet for her torn arm. She stumbled in the dark, her eyes stung from bile trapped in the mask that also stifled her breathing. She removed her it but tripped one something large and wooden.

Caeris squinted at the thing in the low, snow-reflected light of the moon. It looked like a kite.

“It's a star-sail,” said a high pitched male voice. “Impressive, isn't it? Yet it has grim connotations. A portent of death...”

Caeris forced herself to her feet, but staggered as the blood-loss overcame her and she fell to her knees.

The voice tutted. “And just where do you think you're going?”

“You'll lose in the end,” Caeris muttered as she tried to locate the voice. Just a rough direction to run from as she tried to desperately recover her bearings. “Vliechov can't be stopped.”

There was a sound beside her. She ran the other way.

Only for a blade to dig into her exposed cheek that pull her back down to the ground. Pain was nothing. She fought against it, but her vision swam from the trauma of her missing arm.

“As much as I hate to deprive my mother of her vengeance, man-kin like you can't be left as loose-ends. See, exemplars and important bigguns like Irven get to do the big, inefficient heroey stuff.”

Caeris growled and gagged as the metal hook twisted and wrenched around in her face and the back of her throat. She tried to crawl, but her foe mounted her back and started to twist the weapon.

“Removing problems like you? That's the job of a good scout.”

She couldn't feel anything. She heard a crunch of her own bones and her vision went black.

“And I really love my job.”

Caeris heard the voice cackle as everything grew muffled.

And then she was no more.

* * *