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"Much like the gryphons, who played a vital role in the defense of the Garbanan Peninsula during the later stages of The Shattering and throughout the Dark Age as a whole, the phoenixes also engraved themselves deeply into the common imagination. Being another well known, but little understood magical creature, these highly intelligent bright red and yellow (often with a little blue as well) eagle-like birds were created by the Witch King during the siege of the Ivory Tower at the height of the Second Witch War, to act as messengers. They were also expected to disrupt the communication of the Alliance of Light by hunting the homing pigeons used by the attacking armies. They were created with an almost instinctual ability with magic, but their range of spells was only limited to the element of fire, as well as healing.

Whether by design or not is unclear, but it has later been revealed that they are also highly attuned with Timevision, often being gifted with either foresight (the ability to know what might be) or hindsight (the ability to know the truth of what was). Because of this, a phoenix may often accompany an individual who most likely will achieve greatness. They also tend to congregate at places before significant events. Therefore, and because they are very secretive creatures by nature, it has become folklore that a sighting of one is a good omen, but an entire flock on the other hand, is an ill omen.

Another aspect of the phoenix psyche that has caught the common imagination is their strange obsession with fire and death. When mortally wounded, a phoenix will instinctively mold a Manashape known only to them that results in the entire bird exploding in a great fireball. They will also go to great lengths to burn anything of phoenix origin, often risking life and limb to destroy it, be it the corpse of a bird killed outright or even just feathers shed naturally long ago that had somehow not been burnt at the time. This, along with knowing things only a dead bird should have known, has led to the popular belief that they are in fact immortal, but in order to be resurrected everything of the original body needed to be burned to ash, a myth the phoenixes have never admitted to nor denied. Therefore, a traumatic, often destructive life-changing event has come to be referred to as a phoenixpyre."

Extract from "Effects of the mystic beasts on society" by Elaine Longhorn, an anthropologist of the Second Age.

###

There was no bell tolling out a warning. There was no watchman calling out a challenge or warning of an imminent threat. It was the screams of terror that alerted those gathered in the Market Square that something had gone wrong. Very wrong.

Panic started to spread quickly through the crowd as some of them pointed up to the north of town where some of the houses were already burning.

"Town Guard, to me!" Sir Harald roared, as people started to panic. The crowd that had gathered excitedly to watch history unfold, now milled about in frantic terror: Some tried to get to where the trouble seemed to be; some rushed around, grabbing something... anything to defend themselves with or to put out the fire; some tried to outright flee or get to someplace where they could hide. Everyone was screaming for their loved ones, or just from absolute terror.

A woman appeared, fleeing along the main road from the direction of the Northern Gate. But suddenly, she screamed as a black crossbow bolt struck her in the back and she fell forward. Then the first orcs appeared, pouring onto the Market Square from several directions at once. Those of the town's defenders who were capable, rushed at them to confront the invaders.

As if in mockery of what was happening, a warning bell from the Broken Gate suddenly started to toll.

"Ladders approaching!" one of the watchers on the wall warned.

"Bloody hell!" Sir Harald swore loudly. He urgently motioned to a nearby phoenix. "Tell those on the wall to hold off the assault as long as possible! I'll join them as soon as we figure out how they got into town."

The phoenix clacked its beak in acknowledgment and was about to carry out the order when the retired Royal Guard added:" And be clear about it, don't use poetry!"

The phoenix clacked its beak again, though a little indignantly this time, and was off. Sir Harald screamed an incomprehensible battle cry as he swung his sword at the closest orc.

***

Gahntuar rushed frantically through the panic-stricken crowd, using his bulk to shove a way through them when they didn't get out of his way quickly enough. Merec was still strapped to his shoulders, and the way he was swaying about was incredibly annoying, to say the least. But the human quickly picked up on the rhythm of his movements and once he worked with the dragon, they seemed to be moving like one. Then, it was a rather surreal but exhilarating experience.

But he didn't have time to consider the new development. As they neared the Town Hall, he noticed an already bleeding Lainah fending off seven orcs on her own. With an angry roar, he rushed to her aid.

The drake hit one attacker in the back, crushing him into the pavement. He struck a second before the creature could turn to face a new threat and was about to attack the third when he noticed that target collapse with a lethal spear wound to the neck. Even as he processed what he saw, the man on his back stabbed at a second orc.

Gahntuar came to his senses quickly and bit at the next orc as the creature tried to call another group of attackers for aid. Lainah shook her kill violently and the last survivor of the party that had challenged the draine fled.

Gahntuar smirked confidently at Merec, who eagerly returned the grin. Together they had killed five attackers in barely as many seconds. Maybe there was something to fight as a team. An angry growl brought them back to the present, and Gahntuar turned to approach Lainah.

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

"Well enough," the draine growled, glaring around for the next group of attackers stupid enough to try and get past her. "How did they get in?"

"I don't know," Gahntuar admitted.

"Can you get the children to safety?" Merec asked quickly.

"No," she growled. "Not in a fight like this!"

Gahntuar suddenly yelped in pain as a crossbow bolt struck him in the thigh. They caught sight of the orc archer just as he ducked behind the corner of a building. Merec quickly dropped his spear, letting it clatter to the ground as he retrieved his bow. But in the mad scramble to string the bow and nook an arrow, the orc had managed to fire off another bolt. It narrowly missed Gahntuar only because the dragon managed to leap to one side in time, but the sudden movement nearly caused Merec to drop his bow as well.

Finally, Merec was ready and as the enemy archer appeared to fire off another bolt, Merec was ready for the orc and he killed it with an accurate hit to the neck. He quickly fired another arrow at a second target, but as Sir Harald had predicted, the shot went wide because Gahntuar jumped to the side at just the wrong moment.

He was about to complain when he realized that Gahntuar was fighting a fresh group of orcs. The human shot at them but even at point-blank range his arrows flew wide and he only managed to kill one while the dragon finished off the rest.

"What happened to your spear?" Gahntuar snarled when he had a moment.

"I had to drop it to use the bow!" Merec grumbled, indicating to where the weapon lay. The dragon quickly bounded over to it and picked it up.

"Rather stick to it!" he growled. "You were more effective with it than the bow!"

"If we are going to do this again, I will need a better way to organize myself!" Merec growled as he accepted the fallen spear from the dragon.

A pained snarl drew their attention and they turned to see Lainah was still at her station by the Town Hall, already fighting off more orcs. Although she was not alone this time. The hen who had led the gryphons into town the night before was with her, along with two more of the hybrids at her side.

"They have forced open the Northern Gate," a Phoenix suddenly announced as it came flying in low over the fighting crowd. The firebird hovered near to where Gahntuar and Merec stood, addressing the two directly. "You must rush to shut it ere it is too late!"

"Merec!" Sir Harald called over the cacophony of the battle on the Square. "See to the Northern Gate!"

"But ..." Merec started to argue but the blade-master cut him off.

"It will take us too long to reach it, but the dragons can fly there!"

Gahntuar immediately caught on to what the older man meant.

"Lainah! With me!" he ordered, already preparing to take off.

"No, I'm ..." the draine started to argue, but Gahntuar silenced her with a harsh bark and snap of his teeth.

"I'm not asking!" he stated impatiently. "I need your help!" And without waiting for a reply, the black drake leaped into the air, ignoring Merec's yelp of surprise.

"You can help us more to by shutting the gate than staying here!" the lead huntress of the Baldrock Aery snapped at the stubborn draine. "Go!"

Lainah hesitated for a moment longer, before she followed the drake north. Yet, even as she took off, she noticed that several gryphons had already beaten her into the sky, quickly catching up to the dragon and his rider to attack the breach at the Northern Gate.

***

Sir Harald watched the two dragons take to the air, hoping beyond hope that they would be able to close the gate somehow. He smiled when he noticed several gryphons eagerly following the two of them without him needing to order them to do so. In the two days this siege had been going on for, the two dragons had earned the respect of human and gryphon alike. This was especially true for the black drake and the old soldier had the suspicion that most of the hybrids would even follow the dragon all the way to the Thirstlands if he asked.

He turned his attention back to the fighting around him when his gaze fell on an orc unlike any of the others he had come across before. The behemoth of an orc wore the most impressive headgear he had ever seen and wielded a great, serrated sword that was already slick with blood. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered hearing something about swords being usually used as symbols of status in orcish society. He instantly knew that this was the chief of the orcs laying siege to the town.

The orc looked at him and their eyes locked. At that moment, the human just knew that the orc had also recognized him as the one in charge of the town's defence.

As the nightmare of an orc started toward him, Sir Harald of Lorthen killed one last orc footman, and then prepared himself for the fight of his life.

***

"How much fire do you have left?" Merec called against the wind during their short flight to the gate.

"It's as good as done!" Gahntuar growled upset. "I used it up earlier today, defending the other gate." He considered it for a moment. "But I think I should have restored enough for a five-second burst by now."

"Five seconds is not much..." Merec commented worriedly.

"We'll just have to make it count!" Gahntuar growled determinedly as the breached gate came into view.

A large number of orcs had stationed themselves in the archway of the Gate itself, keeping it open for their kin to stream through unopposed. Most of the defenders had managed to barricade themselves in the gatehouse itself, and the defence tower nearby was also still holding out. But it was clear that they would not be able to withstand the attack on them much longer without aid, let alone push the invaders back again.

"Great Nixoruma!" Merec gasped shocked.

"Gullivarth help us!" the drake whimpered in agreement.

Lainah however, did not waver nor did she send up a prayer. With a furious roar, she dove upon the cluster of attackers at the gate, unleashing the last of her fire over those in the street before crashing down upon those just passing through the gate. The defenders trapped in the defensive buildings cheered her on as five of the gryphons that followed them landed in the clearing she made directly after her.

A mad fight for control of the gate ensued as some of the orcs in the town turned around to assist their kin at the gate. Gahntuar cursed to himself for hesitating and with a furious roar, he swooped in to join the battle. He slammed his talons hard into some of the orcs and, as he turned to face the force rushing at him from the direction of the Market Square, swiped another against a wall even as Merec joined in with his spear. The dragon snarled defiantly at the orcs, but they had barely reached the pair when more gryphons dropped onto them from the sky. In mere moments the whole street devolved into a desperate fighting, the orcs trying to reach their brethren at the gate while the tetrapods did all they could to keep them back while their allies fought to clear the archway of the gate.

The humans in the defensive buildings were still trapped inside, but the archers in the guard tower immediately started to rain down arrows onto the horde, doing their best to assist the tetrapods that had by now formed a little circle inside the gate arch, fighting with claw and talon and beak and fang against the overwhelming force.

***

The was a great ball of fire as yet another phoenix died. But it barely influenced the chaotic fighting in Market Square.

The desperate last stand was finally starting to form some kind of order, with most of the defenders rallying to the south-eastern section near the Gryphon's Roost. The old watchtower turned inn was still holding out strong and appeared to be the best option where the last survivors of the town could try and hold off the invaders, hoping to make it through the night until the relief force could arrive. A similar cluster of humans and gryphons were also holding strong around the Town Hall, and a third, albeit smaller force had formed by the Trapper's Rest.

But how much longer these sectors would be able to hold out, was anyone's guess. The orcs continued to pour in from seemingly all sides onto the Square, though the number of fresh attackers that was arriving seems to have slowed down a bit, given the defenders that little bit of hope that the plug in the Northern Gate was holding up.

It was strange that as soon as the retired Royal Guard and the orc chief started to engage each other, the rest of the fighting crowd started to keep their distance. Almost as if the dual between the two leaders was something sacred that should not be interfered with. Something Sir Harald was grateful for and upset about at the same time. This orc was by far the best fighter the old soldier had ever had to face and he could have used some help. But at the same time, if the orc chief had received the help of his own, the human wouldn't have stood a chance to survive as long as he had.

They exchanged blows, but it was obvious that the human was coming to the end of his stamina as he started to react slower to the attacks from the orc. The chief on the other hand still seemed fresh and eager to fight. Then, a powerful strike from the orc sent the tired Harald stumbling.

It was the first real opening in the fight for either of them, and the orc was quick to capitalize on it. He struck Harald with a gauntleted fist, driving the wind painfully out of the human and sending him collapsing to the ground. His sword clattered uselessly to the pavement by his side.

With a victorious roar, the orc chief raised his sword high, intending to cleave Harald's head open. But the unnecessary warning was enough for the old soldier to roll out of the way before the deadly blade descended. Instead of the human's skull, the tip of the sword buried itself in between the cobblestones of the main road.

Capitalizing on that opening, Sir Harald kicked desperately at the orc chief's legs. The heavy boot impacted the orc's right knee and the creature fell over with an angry, painful roar. In the process, his blade bent in a way no sword was meant to, and the weapon broke in half with a resounding snap. Still moving without thinking about it, the blade-master scrambled desperately for his own sword and, still in a kneeling position, swung blindly at where the orc had collapsed. He struck the chief just as he was scrambling to get up himself, the human's blade slicing through the thick neck.

The world seems to stop for a long second as the head toppled from the strong shoulders and the chief dropped to the ground . An orc shrieked in terror, but it seemed far-off to the human, as if somewhere at a distance and not of any real concern to him. It came from the direction of the Town Hall, where one of the orcs turned to flee down a narrow alleyway. Another orc, possibly one of the commanders, snarled something at the fleeing creature, but the running orc paid his commander no heed.

Then more orcs turned and fled. It was not enough to make their battle line collapse, but it put extra strain on those that remained.

“We've got them running, lads!" one of the humans who had been defending the Town Hall shouted, and his allies roared with renewed vigour as they pressed forward. More and more of the orcs lost their courage, unwilling to face the reinvigorated defenders without their brethren. More turned and fled towards the northern gate, hoping to escape before they could be trapped. One of the orc commanders cursed loudly in his native tongue when the majority of those under his command had already retreated.

“Retreat!" he called to the few orcs of his squadron still fighting, “fall back to …"

But the rest of his fateful command was lost as, just like that, the various orc lines suddenly started to disintegrate.

***

The news of the orc chief's death had not yet reached the fighters still struggling to gain control of the Northern Gate. Despite being pressed on all sides, the circle of tetrapod defenders held strong. They had just managed to fight their way through to relieve the gatehouse, and many of the human guards and therianthrope mercenaries within rushed out to aid them in securing the two heavy doors of the main gate.

But still, the tide of war was turning against the defenders. Some disturbance from deeper within town had the orcs rallying to push through the defenders to get to the gate. The renewed determination of those orcs already inside the town, as well as the constant pressure from outside, were starting to become too much for the circle of defenders and they were slowly losing ground again.

"We need to close those doors!" Merec yelled again as he stabbed at another orc with his spear. Many of his strikes were off target thanks to Gahntuar's own desperate movements and his unfamiliarity with the weapon, but even so, he still managed to hit a fair number of attackers. Also, the mere threat of being stabbed whilst trying to avoid the deadly claws of the dragon had most of the orcs trying to give the two of them as wide a berth as possible.

"Kerrin!" the white gryph next to Gahntuar called out to another, using the opportunity Merec's strike gave him. He and one of the other larger gryphons in their group broke away from the fight and quickly headed for the gate itself. As the humans there finished off the last of the orcs, the two hybrids slammed their full weight against the great iron doors. The humans there added their strength and slowly, the gate started to close.

"Merec!" one of the archers in the tower called, frantically waving his bow at something from outside town. "Incoming!"

Merec twisted around where he sat and to his horror, saw a fresh group of orc reinforcements heading at full speed towards the gate.

"Gahntuar!" the rider yelped at his dragon. "Up!"

Gahntuar stiffened slightly at the command, his frill raising indignantly. He killed the last orc before twisting his head to berate his human. But the angry snarl died even as he did so. Instead, the dragon's eyes widened, and his frill rose even higher with shock as he saw the approaching horde.

"If they get to the gate before it is locked, we'll lose it!" Merec called, on the verge of panicking himself.

"I don't have enough fire to stop them all!" Gahntuar protested, but he still leaped into the air with a powerful jump.

"You don't have to attack them directly, just set the field on fire!" Merec called as the dragon twisted in the air to face the rushing horde. "Create a barricade with it, we just want to slow them down!"

"Right!" Gahntuar smirked, liking the idea very much. He dived to skim lower over the wall and spat the last of his fire oil in a small arc around the gate. He almost singed one of three defending gryphons in the process. The bird squeaked indignantly as he jumped back, away from the sudden flames, but when he saw what the dragon was doing, he whooped in delight.

Gahntuar spat his oil in more of a condensed stream rather than the usual mist. This way, the oil would burn longer, though it was not as hot. It still ignited with great flames, cutting off the road to the gate and setting the grass on fire. But this method of spitting fire consumed oil more quickly, and Gahntuar ran out before he could finish his barrier all the way to the opposite side of the wall.

Still, it did the job. The fresh horde of orcs stopped by the fire, shaking their fists at the dragon. Gahntuar smirked at them as he quickly gained altitude again. Some of the orcs tried to go around the fire while the defending gryphons moved to cut them off, but before the orcs could even get to the edge of the fire barrier, the heavy doors of the gate were pushed close with a resounding clank.

Still smirking, the dragon turned to his rider.

"It wor..."

Gahntuar was suddenly struck by another dark green drake in the air. The collision was powerful enough to force Gahntuar almost upside down. He beat his wings frantically to try and remain in the air, raking his back claws across the enemy dragon's flanks in an attempt to break free. But the enemy drake had grabbed a firm hold of Gahntuar and the black drake just barely avoided a bite at his throat.

He was vaguely aware of the unused arrows tumbling down his back as they fell from Merec's quiver and dropped uselessly onto the horde below. Luckily, the harness did what he had been promised and Merec remained firmly in place this time, although he was violently thrown about and nearly dropped his spear in the process.

Gahntuar hit his attacker across the snout, but though the strike was painful, it didn't draw blood. Merec finally managed to recover himself and stabbed his spear at the other dragon, hitting him in the cheek just as he was about to attempt another bite at Gahntuar.

The other dragon screamed in pain and immediately bit at Merec. Unable to do anything else, the human tried to block the strike with the shaft of his spear. It bought him time as the dragon bit it, but the wood of the shaft splintered, and the spearhead dropped to the ground below. Yet, the distraction was enough to allow Gahntuar to strike a more powerful blow at the other dragon's neck.

That was too much for the other dragon and he broke his hold on Gahntuar to flee. The black drake managed to catch himself barely in time before he and Merec crashed into the field amidst the angry mob of orcs.

"You oka..."

Again, Gahntuar did not complete his sentence. Another powerful force slammed into him, this time from slightly behind him. With no more altitude left, the two dragons dropped from the air and crashed hard into the field again.

"Merec !" Gahntuar yelped frantically as he scrambled to his feet, already looking around to see if the orcs were descending on the downed pair. However, Merec had been knocked senseless in the crash and could barely mumble a reply as he was slumped unconsciously in the saddle, swaying drunkenly with the dragon's movements.

"Is there no end to the disgrace you are willing to commit to?"

Gahntuar whirled around at the condescending sneer of Seghrien right behind him. It had been the red drake who had knocked him out of the sky, and he growled deeply as he got to his feet. "Now you allow yourself to be treated as a common horse!"

Seghrien smirked at the flash of fear in Gahntuar's eyes as the black drake assumed a more defensive stance. There was no escape for the Shameblood this time. The town was out of reach and his friends were all too busy fighting themselves for their own lives to interfere again. The only one who could still help him was the human on his back, but the creature was completely unconscious and wouldn't be interfering anytime soon. In fact, the only thing the monkey would do was distract the Shameblood and hinder his movements.

Seghrien grinned evilly as he advanced on his prey. "At least you now have a chance to redeem yourself in serving Juinkarr."

Gahntuar did not hesitate. Immediately he pounced, aiming to strike Seghrien on the throat. Seghrien backtracked nimbly out of reach and struck the black drake hard on the shoulder as his attack flew wide, missing the dazed Merec only by inches.

Unlike the usual method of striking against the lay of the scales, the red struck downward, enabling him to put extra strength into his attack. Though it did not do any serious harm to Gahntuar, the strike was powerful enough to knock him off balance. Therefore, he was unable to avoid the next strike in time.

Seghrien rammed his shoulder into Gahntuar's side, putting his weight behind the blow. Gahntuar yelped as he toppled, nearly flattening his human in the process. Before he could get up, Seghrien pounced on the fallen drake. The wind was knocked from Gahntuar and he coughed up blood as a rib or three broke under the weight of the other dragon . It was only by sheer dumb luck that the red drake missed the human's leg, still fastened securely against Gahntuar's side as it were.

"You know, your brother taught me that trick, right before I killed him!" Seghrien smirked as his prey tried to scramble out from under him. But the black drake was thoroughly pinned.

"My lord requires your heart," the red drake purred, as he molded a strange Manashape and allow it to sink into Gahntuar. A cold feeling started to spread through Gahntuar, and it suddenly seemed as if his limbs had become heavier.

"Yours," Seghrien repeated, casting the human on Gahntuar's back only a disinterested glance as he settled the same Manashape onto him. The unblessed was slowly coming to, but the pathetic creature was so confused after the crash that the red drake doubted he knew which way was up. "And that of the unblessed you have so kindly brought me. Just the physical organs though. The rest of you can stay here."

Gahntuar snapped his teeth at his attacker, but the attempt was more comical than really threatening. Still, Seghrien dazed him with a hard strike against the side of his head, and quickly bit at his neck, just behind the skull before the dazed Gahntuar could lock his horns protectively around the vulnerable area.

Seghrien couldn't help but smirk for a split second at the taste of blood as his fangs pierced through the scales. This was finally it. Just a quick snap and...

There was a dull thud against his one horn, but it was followed by an excruciating pain on the side of his head. Instinctively he released his hold on Gahntuar to roar out in agony. Furiously he turned to see the human had regained enough of his wits to have drawn his sword and aimed a rather poor strike at his head.

"S-stay away ... from... from him." the human muttered, the short sword he was meant to discard raised weakly in preparation for another clumsy strike at the dragon. The blow the human had landed through dumb luck might have hurt, but it was not nearly enough to save them. Gahntuar was still securely trapped beneath him and the human was still in no fighting condition.

"You!" the red drake snarled. "Stop interfering!"

He raised a claw to rip into Merec, but at that moment a brown blur crashed into his back. The Lead Huntress of the Baldrock Aery scrambled to sink her beak in between the scales on his neck, but with a furious roar, Seghrien managed to get his claws into the hen. She screeched in pain as she was ripped from the dragon's back and thrown like a rag doll through the air.

But Seghrien had barely gotten rid of her when another gryphon attacked him. A third joined in before the red dragon could even respond and as he struck, a fourth one joined the fray. The mob of hybrids managed to push Seghrien off Gahntuar. The gryphons continued to press the attack on all sides, even after the injured black dragon managed to painfully get to his feet and was led to the relative safety behind the defensive line.

In the chaos of fighting off the gryphons, Seghrien tried to mold Mana. But the flock of now six of the cat-birds harassed him so much that he failed to concentrate enough. Even the simple Shockwave spell that would have sent all of the irritating birds flying seemed to require too much time to mold.

He had no choice, he had to resort to his fire. He sprayed his fire-oil in an arch around him. The gryphons scattered momentarily, most escaping the dangerous flames except for one who was hit squarely in the chest. But instead of making the hybrids weary of getting to close to him, it seemed to have made them only more determined to chase him off.

He tried to spit fire again, but one black gryph struck at his mouth as he did so. The creature had obviously heard what had happened to Grelnor and attempted to do the same to him. Only, the strike was not nearly on target and Seghrien managed to pull away with only a cut on his upper lip.

But the message was still clear, he would not succeed in driving them off. With a last, fruitless strike at a random advesary, the red dragon turned and fled.

The gryphons did not pursue him.

"Are you okay?" one of the hens asked Gahntuar with a worried croon. "Can you fly?"

"No," Gahntuar whizzed. It was difficult to breathe with his broken ribs, and he knew flying was out of the question. "Merec?"

"I'm okay," the human on his back gasped, sounding equally pained.

"Come, let us get you back to town." another gryph spoke up as he nudged the dragon back to town. He flinched a little when the dragon gasped in pain and was quick to apologize. Gahntuar barely acknowledged the apology, before he turned around painfully.

"What is going on?" Merec suddenly asked, sounding much more conscious than he had only a moment before. "Where are the orcs?"

Only then did Gahntuar also notice that the attack on the wall had ceased. What's more, the field where they had surrounded the town also seemed deserted as far as he could make out in the dark.

"Thanks to you, we've managed to close the gate before we could be overwhelmed," one young gryphon eagerly said.

"We are now trapping the orcs in the burning section of the town," another, older hen added a little more soberly. "And since Sir Harald killed their leader, they are failing to get any kind of defensive formations in order. It is a bloody massacre in there."

"The rest of the attack on the wall is also crumbling," the youngster added again. "Most of the orcs are fleeing back to the north. I think it is over, we're safe now!"

***

"Fucking pit of hell!" Seghrien screamed enraged when he reached the safety of the treeline. "Gullivarth, give me a break. Why do you protect him?"

This was the third time he had soundly beaten the Shameblood, had him defenceless beneath his claws, and the third time the irritating runt had survived. The odds were impossible, so much so that he must have had divine protection.

"Sir," Ikessa suddenly spoke up behind him.

"What?" Seghrien snapped angrily at her. The latest failure to kill the runt had him furious at everything and he didn't even feel bad when the usually confident draine flinched at his tone. He hurt all over from the little nicks and scrapes the mob of gryphons gave him, and the side of his head burned terribly where the damned human had scored a lucky strike.

"The orcs are scattering!" the other drake replied quickly, though a little hesitantly. He had a bit of difficulty talking with a nasty wound to the cheek.

"What?" Seghrien roared.

"Chief Urguss is dead!" Ikessa quickly explained. "He was leading the latest attack on the town when he was killed. It is a massacre in there and the remaining forces have lost their courage! They are fleeing into the mountains as we speak."

Seghrien snarled. Could the day get any worse? He and the two dragons with him managed to push back the gryphons to the west, only to find that Mistress Senna had done as she had promised. The gate at the northern side of town had been opened and the horde had already started their attack.

Which was fine. In fact, they had returned just in time to find the runt outside and all but alone. It was a simple thing for Ikessa to chase off the lone cat-bird that had been with the black drake while he and Heinor forced him to the ground.

But then everything just seemed to fall apart quicker than he could deal with it.

"Heinor, stop them!" he commanded the green drake. "I don't care if you have to burn some of them but stop this rout!"

"We have to retreat, my lord!" Ikessa begged, suddenly desperate. "There is not enough time to do anything before the main gryphon force arrives. We know for a fact that they will arrive in the morning, and we have to reach some kind of shelter in the mountains before then!"

Seghrien snapped his teeth at her, but he had come to listen to her even when he was frustrated like this. Therefore, the sense of her words broke through to him. He growled in irritation as he looked back to the town. This was just another setback, their victory depended on how he handled it.

"You are right, Ikessa," he replied softly, resisting the temptation to nuzzle her.

"So, Heinor!" he added, his good eye flashing with determination to save this disaster. "Help Ikessa and me get the orcs organized and start to withdraw deeper into the mountains. And try to find Urguss's son, he is now in command of the horde! We can plan a new strike once we are safe from the gryphons to the west."

"But sir," the other drake protested. "We can't even..."

"We have no choice!" Seghrien snapped angrily. "The Master will not accept failure like this! If we step back a bit, we might be able to salvage ..."

As he talked, he checked the state of his talisman with a wing thumb. It was more from habit rather than truly checking if he would be ready for the next fight. He had barely used it during the whole of the siege, and though the preservation shape he had placed on the runt took rather much, the shape would hold for around a week before it will disintegrate. He had more than enough time to...

His mind suddenly went blank when his wing thumb touched, nothing.

"No-no-no!" he whimpered, frantically feeling at the side of his head, more determinedly with his wing thumb first and then with a paw when he still did not find anything.

"What is wrong, my lord?" Ikessa asked, immediately picking up on the drake's distress.

"My ear..." Seghrien whimpered. His frustration turned immediately to cold fear when he recognized the remaining half of his ear.

"Your ear is gone..."

As Ikessa confirmed his worst fear, he remembered the human's sword that had glanced off his horn and cut at the side of his head. Desperately, he tried to mold even a simple shape, but to his horror, he could feel his Mana distort around his mental grasp, much like water around his paws.

The human had cut his talisman off without even realizing what he had done!

"Fucking Unblessed!" he cursed. "I have to go back."

"But sir, it is not safe!" Ikessa gasped, utterly shocked that he would even suggest something like that.

"I have no choice!" he growled worriedly, scanning the field between him and the town. "The Master had given me a great gift in order to accomplish this task, but I have lost it. I dare not leave without it!"

"Let me come with you..." Ikessa started to say, but the red dragon quickly cut her off.

"No," he grumbled, though he did give her a quick affectionate nuzzle this time. "I need you to help Heinor get the horde in order before they get themselves killed. If the gryphons catch up to us, we will be done for. I'll join you as soon as I can."

And without another word, he flew off. The two dragons he left behind watched him go, a little unsure of what to do now. Ikessa was finally the one to take charge.

"Right, let's get this done then!" she growled, giving the red drake one last forlorn glance as he disappeared into the night. All of her instincts screamed at her to follow him, but he was right. They need to stop this rout, or they would be easy pickings for the gryphons.

With a heavy sigh, she turned and took off, heading north after the fleeing orcs. She will only do what needed to be done, then return as quickly as she could to his side.

***

Seghrien returned to where he had forced Gahntuar to the ground. Or at least more or less where he thought it was. It was difficult to see much of anything in the darkness, but he was confident that he was near enough to the right place to be able to find his talisman. Luckily, the darkness seemed to have hidden him from the town as well, as he was not yet mobbed by a flock of gryphons. With a last scan of the field to try and identify where he had been when his talisman was lost, he quickly picked a spot and landed as softly as he could.

"Where is it... Where is it..." he muttered to himself as he looked this way and that, hoping to catch sight of a glimpse of gold in the dim light of the moon. It was strange how vulnerable he suddenly felt without his talisman, now that he was aware of its absence. That, despite knowing that he was completely competent without any magic.

A useful Manashape sprung to mind, one that would create a small sphere of light to help him find his missing earring. It would be seen from the town, of course, but it was a risk he might have to take. But as he started to mold it, the Mana in his reserves seemed to ooze away from him. With a soft curse, he remembered that his talisman was missing.

He continued to frantically search for the talisman when a flap of wings distracted him. He looked up as the other dragon landed nearby.

"I told you to ..." he started to growl, but his voice suddenly died when he recognized her. It was not Ikessa nor Heinor, but the silvery draine that had haunted his dreams as of late.

Only, she did not look anything like he had imagined her. Though she was bleeding from several cuts along her flanks and shoulders, the injuries did not impair her movements in the slightest and she stalked towards him as if he was prey. But it was the look in her eyes that suddenly had him worried like never before.

Despite remembering clearly that he had beaten her easily when they had last fought, he still took a step back unsurely. Last time she was like a clumsy youngster as if over-eager to prove herself. But now, she seemed surer of herself, more determined.

"Murderer!" she hissed as she took another step forward, practically spitting the accusation at him.

"I did you a favour!" Seghrien hissed back. "His blood was..."

"Shut up!" Lainah snapped furiously. "You had NO right to kill my chosen mate! NOR to smash my eggs!"

"He was conceived through ..."

"I DON'T CARE! YOU HAD NO RIGHT!"

With that Lainah struck.

It was still a stretch for her though and Seghrien avoided the blow easily enough. He countered with lightning reflexes as he had done for years now, but Lainah had learned much from Gahntuar.

Over the past months under Gahntuar's tutelage, she had developed her own style of fighting, focusing more on keeping her movement flowing and sustaining momentum rather than the usual show of strength or ability to avoid attacks. Though the style still needed work, it was already much more graceful and, in a way, already proved more deadly.

She twisted gracefully to avoid Seghrien's strike and even as she moved, she was able to strike again at her opponent. Seghrien yelped as her claws ripped into his shoulder and he had to backtrack frantically to avoid another, lightning fast second strike at his neck.

Being more prepared for the way she moved, Seghrien managed to score a deep cut across her cheek. Lainah shrieked and had to twist out of another strike from Seghrien. She avoided Seghrien again and struck at an opening on his blindside.

As usual, Seghrien blocked the blow with a practiced flick of his wing and followed it up with the usual strike of his tail. Only, Lainah was positioned wrong and though the hit connected, it only glanced off the draine's shoulder. She struck his blind side again and because he wasn't prepared this time, she connected hard enough to make him stumble.

With Seghrien completely off balance, he instinctively opened his jaws to spit fire at his opponent. Immediately, Lainah struck at his mouth, aiming for the vital fire-oil ducts, but he realised just in time his mistake and he pulled his head back before her claws made contact. This unexpected change caused the draine to miss her own strike completely, and with all of her weight put into the attack, she stumbled and almost fell to the ground in front of him.

"Enough of this!" Seghrien snarled. Quickly he recalled a Manashape he had used often. It was usually used in conjunction with a triggerrune to bind someone to a spot. But he had discovered how to cast the spell alone so that it could be used as a means to restrain a troublesome opponent in a pinch. Then to his horror, as he started to mold the shape his Mana supply dribbled from his grasp.

In the heat of the fight, he had completely forgotten that he had lost his talisman. And that moment of confusion was all Lainah needed.

She drove her shoulder up as hard as she could, hitting him in his chest. With a flick of her wing, Seghrien was sent toppling over with a startled squawk. As he crashed onto his side, Lainah rose up onto her hind legs. With an enraged scream, she crashed her full weight onto Seghrien's head.

She repeated the process a second time. And then a third.

"HE'S DONE NOTHING TO YOU!"

Smash.

"MY EGGS WERE DEFENCELESS!"

Smash.

All of the anger, the sorrow, the simmering hatred now came to a boiling point, and the pressure released violently.

Smash.

"YOU HAD NO RIGHT!"

Smash.

"No right!"

Smash.

"Miss?"

Startled by the soft voice, Lainah whirled around with a furious snarl and was about to strike at the being next to her. She recognized it as a gryphon barely in time before her claws ripped into him. The brave gryph flinched away from her and cowered where he stood, but to his credit, he did not flee.

"Miss," he tried again when he realized that the murderous draine had not killed him yet. "He ... he is dead."

"Dead?" Lainah asked, almost a little confused. She turned to see some seven gryphons, staring at her in wide-eyed shock and apprehension. Fear shone brightly in their eyes, even in the dark as if they were seeing her for the first time. Yet, they remained there, determined not to leave an ally alone.

"What...?" she mumbled. She vaguely remembered taking her frustration of the last year and a half out on something... She looked back down at the mass of bloody flesh and a broken bone in front of her feet. It was barely recognizable to have once been Seghrien's head.

Suddenly revolted at the sight, she took a step back. She tasted bile on her tongue and turned to spit it out. She reached up to wipe at her muzzle but saw that her own claws were also smeared with blood. Her paws were completely covered with it up to her ankles and there were even splats up as far as her chest.

"Miss," another gryphon, this time a female, hazarded to say. "We must go..." She did not sound eager about the thought of accompanying the draine back to town though. But something in the sky seemed to hold her attention firmly, something that seemed to frighten her more than the murderous white draine in front of her.

But Lainah ignored her. Almost still in a daze, she started to wipe her paws clean on the grass. The slow, deliberate movements were kind of soothing, but as she worked the realization of what had happened dawned on her. Of what she had done.

She had confronted Seghrien with the full knowledge and intention to kill him. But she had never meant for it to get out of control like this. With a squeak of despair, her cleaning became more urgent as she tried to clean herself of not only the blood but the memory as well. Within moments, she was frantically clawing at the ground, ripping up clumps of grass.

She screamed in terror as a set of sharp claws grabbed at her, and she collapsed where she stood.

"Come, dear," the now completely confused hen whispered to the frightened dragon. The draine was shaking as she looked at the gryphon, so much like a terrified chick that it broke the hen's heart as well. "Come, let's get back to town."

But she remained where she was, laying in the mud she had just plowed up. Yes, Seghrien was dead and her quest for vengeance was fulfilled. But instead of a feeling of release, the hole that her dead family had left, that hole which the hunt for Seghrien had filled, was suddenly ripped open and laid bare.

All the emotions she had managed to contain since the death of her family crashed into her and she has swept away.

"Jenour!" she wailed in despair, tears flowing from her unchecked. "My eggs! Why did they have to die!"

"We have to get back to the safety of the town!" one of the younger gryphs whimpered worriedly, also glancing up at the sky as if expecting another dragon to come swooping down upon them at any moment. In fact, he was sure he had seen some shadow glide overhead. It could have been another dragon, but for all he knew it could just have been a gryphon passing over. He only knew that he didn't want to wait around to find out which it was.

"Let her be," the hen said. She turned to regard the corpse with an angry scowl of her own, any pity for the drake she might have felt for the brutality of his death completely evaporating. She now understood exactly what had happened and she berated herself for thinking ill of the draine. Who knows what she would have done to the one who smashed her eggs? "The attacking army is breaking up. The siege is over."

As if to emphasize her statement, she lay down next to the sobbing draine, cuddling up close to wordlessly comfort her. The other two hens did the same, while the males stood by wordlessly, watching over them and making sure no one snuck up on them.

Lainah just lay there, oblivious to the mud and blood, oblivious to the hens that had started to cry with her. She was lost in her own despair as she was finally grieving for her lost family.

***

The phoenix chirped to itself, inspecting the mass of dark scales that covered the side of the drake's chest as it cast a series of small spells. Gahntuar heaved suddenly as the spell took hold, coughing up a bit of wet blood. But then he found that he was breathing much easier. It was still very painful to move, but he knew he would be fine.

"Thank" he started to say, but the bright orange bird had already flown off. "... you!"

"If I had known you admired me enough to follow my example, I would have warned you not to!" Iago smirked next to him. "Broken ribs are not fun, are they?"

Gahntuar nipped at the troublesome gryphon but gasped as his chest flared up in pain. Iago started to chuckle, but then he flinched with pain himself.

"Damn it, Shadowspawn!" he grumbled. "What did I say about making me laugh?"

"Well serves you right, Jigsaw!" Gahntuar grinned, fighting the urge to laugh as well.

Iago glared at the dragon a moment before he grinned as well. But then he became very serious.

"Have you heard anything about Kahey?" he asked worriedly. "I heard my sister came in with you..."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know," the dragon sighed. "But the healers and the phoenixes were treating her when I last saw, so I think she will be fine."

"So, it is over then!" a new voice suddenly declared. Startled, Gahntuar looked around at the equine dragonslayer who had come to stand next to them. "Sorry to have startled you, I just wanted to come and see how you were doing. I heard the red drake caught you alone outside town."

"I'm good," he replied, finding it strange that a dragonslayer of all things was worried about him. "How can you tell it is over?"

"The phoenixes," the equine elaborated. "They may congregate where the important stuff happens and have been known to even help if the need is great enough. But they don't perform any healing until it is definitely over."

"Oh," Gahntuar mumbled, feeling a bit silly as if he should have known that fact.

He turned his gaze to the inn. When they had returned from the field, Merec had still been very groggy. His harness had been hastily disconnected and the human had been rushed inside the building even though it was badly damaged by fire. But just like the case had been with the hen that had come to his rescue, he knew that Merec would be fine. Still, he was worried about his human. Unlike most, he was not in a critical condition, but due to the short supply of Mana that they still had remaining, Merec had to go inside to be treated for a concussion the traditional way.

Gahntuar did not complain about it, well not that much. He would have preferred to follow the human inside, but the building was obviously not really built with dragons in mind. Hopefully, the horse next to him was right. Then again, this fight might be over, but he doubted that Seghrien would leave it there. He would have thought that the red drake who had destroyed his life so often would have tried to attack the town one last time before the main gryphon army arrived with the morning.

Then, he berated himself. He needed to stop worrying, it did not accomplish anything. Like Iago, his role in defending the town was now at an end. At least it wouldn't be long now before the gryphons from Iago's aery would be here, accompanied by the members of several more aeries further to the south. So he didn't have to worry about the town anymore. He suddenly smiled to him at that thought: Strange how he had come to view the humans that had tried to get rid of him for more than two years now, as close comrades.

He gasped at a sharp pain in his chest as he absent-mindedly tried to get more comfortable.

"Your ribs still hurt, I take it?" the horse remarked. Gahntuar only gave him a flat, emotionless stare.

"They are still broken!" he replied dryly. "The phoenix had only healed my lungs."

"Oh, sorry!" the horse apologized, sounding truly sorry. "I don't know much about health care for dragons. "

"No," the dragon smirked. "I take it you are used to doing the opposite."

"I... you're right," the dragonslayer said, rubbing a little awkward at the dragon scales of his armour. "But I'd still like to help out … if I can."

"Can you maybe find out how Merec is doing," Gahntuar asked quickly, his smirk becoming even broader. His affection for the town was nothing compared to how strange it was that he would be talking to a dragonslayer as if they were friends.

"Of course," the horse said with a smile. "I'll quickly find out about your rider."

Gahntuar frowned at the statement, but then he noticed Lainah also being led to the Trapper's Rest. Worriedly, he examined her but she seemed to be okay physically at least. She was smeared with mud and blood, but her movements seemed unhindered if a little sluggish. But what was worrying, was her demeanour. She seemed much older and extremely tired. Her head was hung low and she seemed completely oblivious to what was happening around her.

That was until she noticed Gahntuar. Immediately, she broke away from her escort of worried gryphons and hurried over to him.

"I think I should get going," the dragonslayer said when he spotted the approaching draine as well. "Talk to you later?"

"Sure," Gahntuar agreed absent-mindedly, looking on in surprise as Lainah dropped unceremoniously next to him and snuggled up as tightly against his side as she could. Gahntuar grunted in pain as she pressed up against a particularly sensitive spot, but the draine didn't seem to have even noticed. Instead, she pressed her head against his shoulder and started to cry again.

Suddenly, Gahntuar just knew. But it was a strange thought, and he still needed to hear it for himself.

"So, he is dead then?" he dared to ask.

Lainah did not answer nor did she give any indication that she had ever heard the question. Instead, she only continued to cry. One of the hens who had brought her in nodded silently in answer to Gahntuar's question. With a relieved sigh, Gahntuar nodded to the gryphon in thanks and carefully laid a wing over the mourning draine.

"I'm so ... so sorry!" Lainah whimpered as she tried to press in deeper beneath his wing.

"Shh, it's okay," Gahntuar whispered softly, nuzzling her affectionately. "It is over. Rest now."

Lainah continued to cry without a care for who saw her until she eventually fell asleep. Carefully, Gahntuar nuzzled her one last time before he also dared to sleep.

***

The sun rose to reveal a scene of utter devastation. Not since the failed invasion of great Gullivarth himself towards the end of the Dark Age, was anything like this seen on the peninsula. Corpses of orcs lay littered everywhere like dried leaves at the end of autumn. They lay thick in the northern side of town, covered the ramparts of the wall, and seemed to fill the entire field just outside town.

Yet, even at this early hour, the few humans and gryphons still strong enough to do any hard work, were already up and about. Many of the corpses were carried onto piles and pyres were just being lit nearby.

Most of the surviving phoenixes had left sometime during the night, returning to their secret groves as was their way now that the moment in history had played out. Yet, three or so of them still remained behind to help tend the critically injured.

"Westward ho!" one human suddenly called. Those nearby looked up curiously, staring at the spectacle. It appeared to be something akin to a great storm cloud that was approaching from the west. But it moved and angulated like something that was alive.

"What is that?" another asked stunned. By now, everyone outside town was staring at the west. Nothing like it had been seen in living memory, and after the strange event of the past three days, the small town of humans was ready to believe in anything. But as the cloud drew closer, it became obvious what it was.

"It's the gryphons!" one young man called out excitedly.

"Damnit," another gasped, shocked by the sight. "How many are there?"

"Every gryphon in The Spine must have come!" agreed another. "I didn't even know there were that many of them!"

"Bloody took their time!" some grouch snarled angrily, earning a well-deserved slap to the head from a friend.

"Show some respect now!" his friend berated him. "They had to organize themselves before they could come here. And you should know that it is no small feat. Or do you think you'll be able to muster several thousand men in a single day?"

By then, the first gryphons started to fly overhead, and soon many of them started to land all around the town.

"Sweet Kellia!" a white gryph, and one of the larger ones there, gasped as he came into land. "It looks like you had a seriously rough day yesterday!"

"You could say that," the old man replied a little bit gruff. "But it could have been worse as well. A lot worse!"

"I'm looking for..." the gryph started, but he was interrupted by a joyous squawk.

"Yorgol!" Kahey chirped, sounding almost like an excited youngster. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes!"

"Kahey, what happened here?" Yorgol chirped shocked. He eyed the bandages around her waist worriedly and added: "Shouldn't you be laying down as well?"

"Oh, I'm quite fine enough!" she scoffed, ruffling her feathers as if her pride had taken a knock. "I'm not doing anything but supervising the clean-up. And anyway, you know me: I'll lose my mind if I have to lay down all day."

The gryph glared at her, not in the slightest amused. She quickly continued her story before he could berate her for not taking care of her wounds.

"It was bad, Yorgol, " she admitted, suddenly a lot more subdued. "We barely managed to fend them off yesterday. Then, they somehow managed to breach the northern gate ... we still don't know how they did it. If it weren't for our dragons we would ..."

"Our dragons?" Yorgol chirped in alarm. He knew that there were dragons in the attacking army. He had, after all, led the forces that had been confronted by them the day before. But this was the first he heard about dragons inside the town.

"Oh, yes!" Kahey added, suddenly realizing that the other gryphons wouldn't know about the two dragons. "It turns out that the rumours of the dragons here were true after all. They were even quite eager to help us to defend the town. One even has a rider with him..."

"A what?" the gryph gasped, utterly shocked.

"A rider, like some of the gryphons in the capital!" she confirmed excitedly. "I saw them myself." But then she became serious again. "The truth is, I think we would have been completely overrun if it had not been for them."

Yorgol clacked his beak uncertainly as he regarded her. The whole thing sounded too good to be true, but he knew Kahey had a very level head, especially in tough situations. And with the clear evidence of the scale of the fighting all around him, he had no choice but to accept what she had to say about all this. Though he admitted to himself, he would most definitely like to meet this dragon and its ... rider.

But first, he needed to make sure that the region was safe once again.

"What about the attacking army?" he asked, looking around at the clean-up. "Surely you had not wiped it out."

"No, not nearly!" Kahey replied quickly. "After their chief died leading the last attack, the army scattered and fled into the mountains. They might be regrouping there, I know that is what I would have done."

"Right then!" Yorgol suddenly snapped, seemingly full of energy again. He turned to a group of gryphons who had joined them a while before. "Keya, Peroll. Stay here with four contingents to secure the region. We don't want any of the orcs to have another go at the town."

Yorgol looked up critically at the columns of smoke that were still rising into the morning sky from the smouldering town. It was going to be a long time of hard work to restore the damage that had been done in the last few days.

"And see what you can do about cleaning the place up!" he added as the two leaders turned to carry out his orders. The white gryphon turned to the rest of the group with a grin. "Sergei, Jeneal, Faross, Ileas, with me! Let's go hunting!"

He finally turned to Kahey. "And Kahey, get some rest! That is an order!"

"Yes, sir!" Kahey grumbled annoyed, but her complaint fell on deaf ears. Yorgol had already taken to the wing again, followed by most of the army he had brought with him.

And with that, around eight thousand gryphons turned north. Those that didn't go north remained behind, landed wherever they could find space, and quickly started to help clearing up the dead orcs.

***

One of the hens who had remained behind spotted the vixen some distance north of the Northern Gate. The creature drew her attention immediately, not only because she was a therianthrope in a predominantly human province. The hen had heard of the dragons said to live just north of town, and this vixen was most likely one of the adventurers that came to collect the bounty on the reptile.

What did bother the gryphon was the fact that the fox was completely apart from the rest of those busy cleaning up. In fact, the only thing of any note nearby was the corpse of a red dragon.

She landed close behind the vixen, who was still studying the dead creature intently. Unsure of what was going on, the hen also stared at the dragon's corpse. The creature seemed to have been a great fighter, with many scars testifying to many battles survived. Only, his luck seemed to have finally run out.

She glanced at what was once his head but immediately looked away a little nauseated. She did not want to even imagine what could have caused that to the poor dragon.

"So the rumours are true?" she finally got the courage to ask. "There were dragons that helped to defend the town."

Felicity jumped with fright at the sudden sound and would have zapped the gryphon if she had any Mana left and if she wasn't suffering from such a severe Manaburn. As it was, she wouldn't be surprised if she could sleep for a week through. She knew that both Adarah and Adulf were no better off. But unlike her, they were using their opportunity to get some much-needed rest. She, on the other hand, was out here, desperately searching Seghrien's corpse for any clue as to how he was able to cast spells.

Still, it could have been much worse. The vulpine Red Magus who had accompanied Adarah had died. She did not know the specifics, but she understood that he was overwhelmed when the town was breached.

"Yes," the vixen sighed, straightening up with a grunt. "We had help from dragons."

"Why aren't you helping with the clean-up?" the hen asked, failing to mask the suspicion in her voice.

"I still have something I must do here," Felicity replied, stifling a yawn.

"Surely it can wait?" the gryphon replied, suddenly a little worried about the vixen. It appeared as if the poor woman was about to pass out with fatigue, and yet she was still here.

"I'm afraid not," Felicity replied.

The hen clacked her beak in determination.

"What is it that you must do?" she asked. "Maybe I can help?"

"I'm trying to find something," the vixen replied before she could catch herself. "And no, I'm afraid you cannot help."

"Are you sure?" the gryphon asked, casting a few quick glances around for anything that could be out of place. "What does it look like?"

"That is the problem," the fox growled annoyed. "I don't know."

"Then, how are you going to find it?"

"Right now, I'm just hoping I'll know it when I see it."

The hen clacked her beak again a little lost for words.

"Why is it so important?" she asked, suddenly a little doubtful about the vixen's story. Only, the vixen looked too tired to be able to make anything up.

"I am hoping that it may prove to the Circle of Five that one of the Juinkarr Demons yet lives."

"The Juinkarr demons?" the gryphon gasped shock and worry evident on her features.

"Yes," Felicity growled, berating herself for admitting it to a complete stranger. "I think one of them, or at least an apprentice or something, ordered this attack. And this dragon might just hold the proof of it."

The two of them continued to look around the dragon for clues, the gryphon venturing a little further away.

"Why not ask him?" she suddenly suggested. Felicity looked up to see the hen point up with a wing towards a phoenix that was sitting in a tree just within the forest.

"Good idea!" she smirked, hoping that the firebird would be able to help. When she reached the treeline, she called up at him. "Excuse me, I hope you can help? I'm ..."

"The charm that you seek lies south of you ten paces," the phoenix muttered. Felicity turned to look and was surprised to see that the spot the phoenix indicated was about halfway between her and where the red dragon had died. She would never have found it. With a quick thanks, she turned to leave but the phoenix spoke again. "But know that it will not help against the darkness the Lúgroccae now faces."

"What do you mean?" Felicity asked worriedly. When the firebird did not elaborate further, the magus regarded him more closely. The phoenix seemed... sad, as if in mourning. Did he lose a mate during the siege? No, that couldn't be it. Though she had to admit that she knew next to nothing about the mating habits of phoenixes, she had never heard of a phoenix mourning the loss of anyone before.

"I don't think I saw you in the town during the siege," she hazarded a guess. "Were you part of the flock that came to our aid?"

"Negative," the phoenix sighed, glancing sadly at something behind her. She turned but could only see the red corpse some distance off.

"Did you... follow the red dragon around?" she suddenly asked, a little shocked at the implications.

"Affirmative," the bird confirmed her worst suspicion.

"Why?" the vixen asked, turning back to the phoenix, failing to hide the revulsion in her voice. "The things he did... He was a monster!"

"I have witnessed how he had gone astray;" the phoenix admitted, not meeting her eyes. "Not that it matters now either way."

"What could possibly have mattered?" the vixen demanded. "The world is a better place with him gone. Why did you even accompany that ... that ... ?"

"Lost is he now, my fallen star!" the phoenix whimpered. "Foretold to slay the lord of Juinkarr."

At the revelation, Felicity actually felt her blood run cold.

"So ... so you are saying that I'm right: One of the demon lords of Juinkarr yet lives?"

The phoenix clacked his beak and started at the vixen in shock as he realized he had said too much. But then, the bird visibly threw caution to the wind.

"Affirmative!" he muttered looking at some distant spot in the east.

"And ... and the red dragon was meant to kill him?" Felicity asked worriedly, looking back at where Seghrien lay.

"Affirmative!" the phoenix agreed, still rather melancholic.

"What have we done?" the magus muttered, her knees suddenly feeling weak. But the phoenix clacked his beak angrily at her, its melancholy suddenly gone.

"Do not fault yourself, for the debt now paid;" the phoenix snapped, angry and frustrated. "He was the smith whose work this destiny made! For a long time now, my foretelling had begun to wane; And was already nearly lost ere he was slain!"

"But he ..." Felicity asked still unsure "wasn't he supposed to serve the demon in order to get close enough to ... kill him?"

But the phoenix only shook his head, his depression returning in full force.

"Destiny foreseen is never set in stone;" he said in a soft voice. "The choice of path remains our own. My star looked to another path, one he believed the right way; Thus he chose this destiny and is now lost this day."

Seemingly satisfied that the conversation with the Yellow Magus was over, the phoenix spread his wings to fly off. But a frantic 'wait' from the vixen made him hesitate long enough for her to ask him one last question.

"Is there still hope?" she asked. "To defeat the lord of Juinkarr, I mean?"

The phoenix clacked his beak, unsure of what to do.

"Don't slide down despair's slippery slope; As long as there is life, there is always hope!" he finally said. "Look to the Lúgroccae, the newly risen star; For they now must decide the fate of Juinkarr."

And with that, the phoenix flew off, following his kin back to their secret groves. Felicity watched him disappear with mixed emotions waging war within her. On the one side, she felt utterly gutted at the phoenix's revelation. But on the other hand, the confirmation of the new title those two annoying males had come to be known by, made her excited to see what the future had in store for them.

The hen by her side had remained quiet while the vixen talked to the phoenix. She did not understand a word of what was said, as a conversation with phoenixes were said to be. But that last part sounded important, even to her.

"Who is the Lúgroccae?" she asked as the vixen turned towards the spot the phoenix had indicated.

Felicity smiled at the youthful curiosity. "You've heard about the dragons that helped defend the town?" she started the tale.

***

The tiny cave was damp and smelled of something dead for a while. The rotten leaves that had been blown in during the last autumn squashed sickly between her toes and beneath her belly. It was a miserable place that didn't help the miserable mood of the terrified young draine.

But Ikessa dared not leave the sanctuary of the small cave where she was hiding. The gryphon army that Seghrien had been so worried about, had caught up with the horde much earlier than they had expected. Caught in the entrance to the Catarii Pass, the orc army was completely exposed to the air raids and it was an all-out slaughter.

Heinor had still tried to put up some kind of fight, hoping to lead the survivors of the orc leadership to safety. But the last drake of their company stood no chance alone against such an overwhelming force. She had seen him being forced to the ground, where he had been mobbed by at least twenty gryphons. He managed to kill seven of his attackers, but he has ultimately ripped apart.

She had only survived this long because she wasn't airborne when the first gryphons appeared, and up to now they seemed to be unaware of her presence.

She fought back a sorrowful sniff at the memory and shuffled deeper into the stinking slime to try and get more comfortable again. As if to mock her woeful emotions, even more, she was itching something fierce. But in the confines of the cave and with the threat of being discovered, she could not scratch the need that seemed to burn within her. Not that anything she could do would be of any help. She needed Seghrien with her, on her, in her.

With her focus taken completely over by the shifting fortunes of the fighting, she had failed to notice the signs for what they were. Heinor was the first to have realized her predicament the afternoon before, and when he had offered to help she had rebuked him rather violently. But now, it was undeniable as her heat had come upon her in full force. She suddenly recalled the last quick mating she had with her love. Her heat must have started around then, and she hoped to Gullivarth himself that Seghrien's seed was still wet enough within her and enough to take. For it was all she would ever get from him again. Her lord and chosen mate was also dead. She was the last of the dragons to have crossed the Catarrum Mountains to be still alive.

She had done as he had asked, finding Chief Urguss's son and heir amongst a group of stragglers, trying to rally them to avenge his father without much success. She and Heinor had swooped in and enforced some order upon them, making sure that the orcs there knew that the dragons supported the chief's son as leader of the horde. And then, she had ordered Heinor to lead the new chief to the safety of the mountains and to stay there until Seghrien himself called them back.

She, on the other wing, immediately returned to the town, to aid Seghrien in whatever he still had to do. Only, she was just in time to see him knocked over and brutally killed by that silvery draine who was mated to the Shameblood.

Once again, her fear and sorrow shifted to rage and hatred at the memory, and she almost let slip a deep, angry growl. Dragons were meant to copulate several times when breeding, so it was highly unlikely that the single dose of seed would be enough to ensure a clutch. And now, if it didn't take, she could never lay Seghrien's clutch as she had always wanted. They could never raise their hatchlings together.

That silvery whore destroyed her hopes and dreams!

At that moment, Ikessa knew she would stop at nothing to destroy the one that killed her future mate. She would not rest until everything that the silvery draine held dear was destroyed. One day, she would have her vengeance, even if it killed her.

***

It was barely three days after King Loburt XXVIII of Thendor had sent a contingent of a hundred and fifty Gryphon Knights north to investigate the rumours of an invasion into the kingdom's northernmost province of Ferrenal when a scout returned with the alarming news. Yes, there had been an invasion by an army of at least fifty thousand Shadowspawn, but despite heavy losses the small town of Corrumwhell had stood strong to defend the border. And not only that, they even managed to push the invaders back north into the Catarrum Mountains, where they are currently being hunted down with the support of neighbouring gryphon aeries of The Spine. The port city of Perston has already called up its standing army in preparation of the attackers' return, but they seem to have been scattered completely and the threat of the invasion seems to have come to nothing.

Yet, though there were magi and other adventurers visiting the town at the time of the battle, the details of how the small town had managed its now-famous defence remained rather murky, to say the least. Some claimed that the town had been defended by dragons of all things, while others insisted that it was, in fact, the dragons who led the invasion in the first place. But the Royal Investigators had confirmed the presence of at least five dragons on the field of battle, though the possibility of there being more is not out of the question. Only two of the dragons have survived and are now recovering from serious wounds received during the battle whilst being eagerly tended to by the town's healers. The other three apparently gave their lives in defence of the town.

Yet, even though no-one seemed to know exactly what had happened in the north of the Garbanan Peninsula, the rumours immediately started to spread like wildfire across the entire Selebore. Most unnerving of all was the recurring name of the new order of noble knights that had been sworn to defend the helpless and the defenceless. Tales of their great deeds which seemed to grow more lavish with each retelling of the battle were shared in the common-rooms of taverns and inns, with many who heard the tales for the first time openly expressing their wish to see one of these knights. Some even dared to go so far as to ask where they could sign up as squires of the new order.

However, many educated enough to know, pointed to the name of this order as proof that this could not possibly be, for in the elvish culture it was synonymous with the impossible.

But still, the rumours persisted and within weeks of the Battle at Corrumwhell, the existence of this new order was already viewed as fact. And so, many flocked to the Garbanan Peninsula, with the hopes of joining up or just to catch even a glimpse of the now famous Lúgroccae.

End.