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Chapter Twelve

I decided to bring the helmet. At first I wasn't going too, but as I watched Kylah gather up the gear she was going to take into battle, I felt compelled to do the same. In a strange way, I felt as if the helmet deserved better then to sit around an empty cave, decorating a long forgotten stone head. It had been forged for battle, it deserve to be taken back into combat. The dent above an eyehole told me it had already saved one dragons life. Perhaps it would be lucky enough to save another's.

Kylah chose to bring the sword that had injured my shoulder, as well as the sword from the dragon slayers who'd attacked my son. Both weapons had been used to draw dragon blood, and now be used alongside one. Ironic, I suppose, though not as ironic as my helmet. It had been forged to protect dragons from humans, and now I was going to wear it as I flung myself muzzle first into a battle I had no real right to enter, a battle to protect some of the very species who had nearly wiped us out. From fighting humans to protecting them. What a strange life the helmet lead.

I snorted, and shook my head. As if a helmet could lead a life! First it was stone heads staring at me in anger, now it was helmets pondering existentialism? Maybe my mind really was slipping. The next thing I knew the trees would be asking me out for a drink, and the earth itself would be angry my dirty paws kept stepping on it's face.

Compared to Kylah, I felt ill-prepaid for what lay ahead. In addition to the two swords, she had dug out the longbow and the crossbow, both still in good condition. She had a sheaf of arrows strapped over her shoulder, and a ream of crossbow quarrels across her belly. I'd half forgotten just how many assorted weapons and types of ammunition I'd brought home with me over the years, and Kylah seemed quite happy to find them. She'd also chosen one of the shields, a small circular metal one covered in dents and scrapes. Any color or emblem that once adorned it was long since worn away. I thought she might have wanted one of the shields that looked in better condition, but Kylah seemed to think a shield that had gone through that much was much more reliable. Then again, she wasn't sure she was going to wield it anyway. She had to fashion some new straps for it though that was easy enough with all the things I had laying around my home.

Kylah had also fashioned new straps for my helmet, to keep it from flying off my head in the middle of battle. Or perhaps more likely to prevent a vain and absent minded old dragon from looking down at his reflection as he passed over a lake, and losing his helmet to the murky waters below. Somehow I rather thought that was the more likely problem! Whatever the case she'd cut down strips of leather, taken some old bronze buckles from the Gods knew where, and soon enough she'd rigged up new straps for both her shield and my helmet. She'd even buckled it on my head for me before we left.

The night before, we had a celebration of sorts. Which is to say, we got drunk as hell. Perhaps I was a bad influence on her. She swore to me she rarely ever drank and when she did, she never drank this much. And this was already the second time she'd ended up completely stumbling drunk since she'd come to stay. Then again, when I was alone I rarely drank that much myself, so perhaps it was she who was the best influence on me. At least I didn't almost kill her this time.

On the contrary, despite eventually ending up quite sloshed as she put it, we had a wonderful evening. And in fairness to both of us, the main reason we ended up so drunk was because I broke out the Kralgoor. I had promised her some of it before I took her back to her village, and as it might well have been our last ever night in my home, I finally cracked open one of several large and well aged vats I had sitting around. We tried to place it's age, it was an old oak vat that I was pretty sure had been stolen from humans long before I was born, and it was covered in red scrawled script in the draconic language. It had the names of the brewers, or distillers, I was never really sure which, and they were only vaguely familiar to me from my childhood. Old dragons I'd never known that well, long since passed from the earth. And though the cask was dated, it turned out that dragons used a far different calendar from humans. True, we marked the passing of years in roughly the same span of time. For us that was the passing of all four seasons, we counted a new year as beginning with each spring. But it seemed we had begun that count from a far different period of time then humanity had! Kylah was fairly sure the barrel and its contents were not more then two thousand years old, and I had to agree with. So, we settled on simply calling it "well aged."

As it turned out, it was in fact, fantasticallywell aged. Sentimentality not withstanding, it was the best Kralgoor I had ever tasted. Now I understood why my elders always went out of their way to put a parrel or two away without opening them each spring, why they took such pains to let some of them age while we drank the rest. I remembered the drink as being very sweet, and with a prolonged burn that coated a dragon's entire lengthy throat, all the way down till it warmed his belly. And while the drink still warmed me wonderfully in the cold night, it no longer burned my tongue and throat so intensely. The once overwhelming sweetness from the berries and fruits had mellowed slightly too, giving way to a slightly earthy character. Kylah also told me it had a faint vanilla flavor that came from the wood, and though I didn't know what vanilla was, I licked the cask to see if she was right. If dirty old dusty mildewing wood was what vanilla tasted like, I wanted nothing to do with it. Thankfully, the Kralgoor had none of that.

While we drank, we dug through my collection. Kylah got her weapons, and she also took with her a shirt of dirt crusted chain mail, and a vest of thick, sturdy dark brown leather with bronze studs. She took several pairs of clothes with her, as well as an extra pair of boots, stuffing everything she could into a backpack, and everything that wouldn't fit into another bag I just knew I was going to get stuck carrying.

Along the way, we came across things I had not seen in ages. A few small wooden dragons I had very carefully carved from wood in my early days of fatherhood, they'd served as toys for my children as they grew. Another carving that my son had attempted when still too young to really master the tiny movements of claws needed. Looking at it now, I couldn't help a chuckle. If a dragon had really hatched with malformed proportions like that I doubt he'd have survived past his first few breaths! And I was fairly sure that most dragons only had four legs. I set the toys and carvings aside with my other treasures on my shelves.

Then we came upon a collection of scales I was rather embarrassed to admit the source of. It had been a common enough thing among the young dragons of our tribe, especially the males, to pluck a scale from our early mates. A collection of conquests, as it were, which as an adolescent dragon I'd been quite proud of it, yet now with the benefit of hindsight and experience I was quite embarrassed by. A shame I couldn't see at the time just how juvenile and arrogant it had been. Then again, I still couldn't bring myself to part with them. I could remember each and every female they belonged too, and I still thought dearly of them all. One of the few benefits of such a small tribe, I suppose. I knew some of them were gone, but I hoped the others were still out there somewhere, and I hoped that those who'd plucked a scale from me as we lay curled together still held them somewhere.

Of course, all that had changed when Niara and I grew close together. Strange that we'd always been friends since we were but pattering hatchlings, and yet as we grew our first mating experiences with always with others. As if we'd both been afraid to admit we desired the other, that we feared it might ruin our friendship. In the end, it had only strengthened it. At least I was less embarrassed about my scale collection when Niara showed me her own! And as if to make a point, she'd yanked a scale from my neck then and there and deposited it on her little pile.

Kylah laughed as I told her those stories, and I decided to keep those scales around, as well. As we'd dug deeper through the pile, I found a pair of small, golden statues from some far flung foreign land, part of a small mountain of treasure I'd stolen in my younger, bolder days. I gave them to Kylah, hoping they might bring her wealth she might actually be able to use.

We also came upon a long, blood stained dagger I hadn't seen in many years. It gave me pause, and I found myself pressing a paw to my chest. There was still a faint, pale gray scar there, near my heart. Kylah could see the obvious, but she did not ask about it, and I was glad. It wasn't something I felt like discussing with her right now. I pushed it aside and piled some extra silks and a fancy rug atop it. I didn't want too look at that dagger at the moment.

We eventually gathered up some warm blankets that I'd probably brought back intending to add to my pile of bedding but instead got tossed in a corner of my home I rarely ventured too anymore. I wasn't sure how long the flight would be, and if we had to rest a few nights, I wanted to make sure Kylah stayed warm. Then again, given how used to sleeping in the constant temperature of my home I was now, I would probably be glad for the blankets as well.

I had only a few supplies for myself. My helmet, of course, and an entire bag full of food and drink. Though I preferred to hunt fresh food, if we ended up camping inside enemy territory, we might not be able to light a fire, or it may be too treacherous for me to take to the skies to hunt. Tough and sturdy as I might be, a blade driven into my spine as I slumbered would end my life as swiftly as any other creature. I might be stuck relying on supplies for a few days, and I wanted to be prepared. In addition to the dried and preserved meats I stuffed into the bag, I dropped in the last of the human bisquits and tack I had left. I also shoved in a few flasks of various spirits and drink in case I needed to calm my nerves, or wanted to celebrate a victory.

When Kylah wasn't paying attention, I put a few more supplies into another bag, something I wanted to surprise her with before we began our plan. I didn't want to tell her about it yet, and I set the bag aside, simply telling her it was more supplies. There was little more I wanted to bring, but I made sure not to forget the last items. I dug around the shelves a little until I found what I was looking for, they'd almost gotten lost in the sprawl of my collection.

Two bracelets, and a necklace, all of dragon make.

The bracelets I had found on my own as a youth, one on of my very first solitary excursions to explore the lands beyond our valley. I'd been to the old ruins with my parents, but I was forbidden to go there alone. Which of course made it all the more tempting to do just that. When I finally gave into temptation, I nearly got lost within the labyrinthine tunnels in the mountains around the old ruins. Thankfully, only a few dragons ventured in there, usually adolescents seeking a private spot to mate. In the end, I was able to follow my own scent trail back the way I'd come. But in the process I found a chamber with a few bones in it, bones I later realized where those of a long dead dragon. I found two beautiful golden bracelets amidst the collapsed ruins of the room and the crushed bones. Much as I later realized the bones were those of my kind, I later realized that in essence, taking the bracelets made me a grave robber.

At the time I was little more then a child. Just old enough to begin to stare at the females a little differently then before, but not so old as to really understand why. I still had enough youthful innocence left in me to prevent me from realizing what I was doing, and to fly home with the bracelets and proclaim them the greatest treasures our valley had ever seen! My parents likely knew exactly where I'd snuck off too, and exactly where I'd found them. But, luckily for the scales of my rump, they pretended as though they didn't. I'm quite sure they know how fleeting the true innocence and happiness of a young dragon in our time was, and they simply couldn't find it in their hearts to be angry at me. Instead, they told me that the beautifully scrawled emblems, arched lines and curved script, and the sharply cut outline of a dragon's horned head decreed that they were the bracelets of a great warrior dragon, and only another great warrior could possibly have found them!

I must have called myself "The Great Warrior" for months after that.

I remember an older dragon who used to like to bully me when I was still small caught hold of me while I was still going around calling myself that. He roughed me up and knocked me around, and pinned me down to twist my wings. He'd done it before, made me howl for mercy, but that time, I was a Great Warrior! And like a Great Warrior, I finally fought him off. Truth be told, I wriggled free of his grasp, punched him in the balls, and ran off laughing all the way home while he lay curled and moaning on the ground. I don't recall him ever bullying me again after that.

The bracelets were of course, made for an adult dragon, so it was many years before they fit me well enough to actually wear them. And by the time they did, I no longer had any interest in wearing them. I was going to give them to my son some day, or perhaps one to my son and one to my daughter, and tell them the same story about great warriors my parents gave me. Now that I could no longer do so, I felt a strange urge to wear them into battle. I dug them out, and with a little work, slipped them onto my wrists. They held in place surprisingly well, even when I ran up and down my sleeping chamber, and swiped my paws in the air as I would in battle.

The necklace, unlike the bracelets, I knew exactly where it was. It was a present given to me by Niara and her own family when we made our mating official, at the tribe's celebration of our joining. It was a beautiful thing, and old as the ages themselves I imagined. Yet somehow it held up. Made of metal rings all linked together, it alternated colors of gold, silver, and black, and at the bottom held a carving of a dragon's head. Carved from solid mother of pearl, with blue stones set into the dragon's eyes that offset the spectacular wash of opaque colors that shimmered across the pearl surface. White, green, blue, red, and other faint colors all seemed to shine on the dragon's head changing with the way the light hit it. It was sturdier then it looked, but I had rarely worn it, I was terrified of losing such a beautiful and emotional gift. Now though, knowing I might well die in battle trying to do something great for my people...now was the perfect time to wear it.

I took only one other thing, aside from that which I hadn't yet shown Kylah. Another painting of my family, Niara, Venar, and Reena. This one was much different, painted in soft light colors and lacking some of the greater details I'd later put into pictures. But this one was also on soft, supple cloth, one of my earlier attempts. I'd wanted one I could easily move from place to place, and I had tried to get the paints to soak into the cloth so that even after they'd dried and cracked from movement, the imprint of the painting would still stain the cloth. I folded it up and took it with me. If I was never to return here, if I was to die trying to save Kylah's village, I wanted someone to see that even dragons held others in their hearts.

It was a strange feeling leaving my home for what I knew may be the last time. Normally when I took to the skies I knew I'd return that night, or at least in the next day or two at worst. Yet then as I winged my way through the snows, I couldn't shake the feeling that I might have taken my last long around my nearly lifelong home. And it was a stranger feeling still knowing I had made that choice myself, a choice to help a band of humans of all things that might well lead to my death.

Kylah huddled closer to my neck then usual, trying to keep out of the whipping snow. The day after it began, the snow was only increasing, threatening a furious blizzard that would be too much for even an experienced dragon to fly in. But I had made a decision, and the sooner we got to Kylah's village, the better off her people would be. Besides, if I stayed huddled in the warmth of my home, I was afraid I might find myself turning the pale colors of a coward and changing my mind.

So into the blizzard we flew. Kylah was bundled up as warmly as possible, with several layers of heavy clothing and the thickest wool cloak she could find in all of my collection. She had her mothers necklace around her neck for good luck, and tucked deeply inside her clothing for safe keeping. Kylah had the hood pulled right around her face, which she had then buried against the back of my black scaled neck, doing her best to stay out of the icy winds and the snow they drove like frigid claws tearing at my wings and any other exposed skin.

All of my belongings I'd chosen to bring were in several large bags strapped about my body. These Kylah hadn't needed to fashion new straps for, they were bags crafted by dragons for us to help transport our possessions, relics from a time when my valley was filled with my kind. We'd loaded up her things into bags like that as well, and now they were strapped at my sides, as tightly as possible so they wouldn't interfere to much with my flight. The taut straps and the weighty bags that tugged at them were uncomfortable against my scales at first, they made me itch. But eventually I grew used to the sensation, and the itching gradually subsided.

I could scarcely recall my wings ever feeling as intensely, painfully cold as they did the first few minutes of our flight. The snow was so heavy, and the wind so strong, it felt like every little snow flake was an arrow of icy, piercing a frigid hole through my wings. Little pinpricks of pain lanced them up and down and the cold quickly seemed through my wing membranes and into my bones until every wing beat ached. The wind and snow stung my nostrils too, and bit into my eyes, made them water even behind my flight membranes. My tail sails had gone so numb I could scarcely spread them to help control my flight, and I found myself keeping my hind legs far less tucked up then usual to offer a modest amount of protection for other scale-less areas of my body.

The fierce winds and thick clouds above the driving walls of snow forced me to take a longer route then I'd initially planned. There was no way in hell I was taking that winding canyon back out of my valley when I could barely see beyond the end of my muzzle. Nor would I dare try and fly over the taller peaks that surrounded because I did not have them as well memorized as the narrow canyons I'd flown as a child. And while I had the lung capacity to crest just about any mountain in the range I was not sure Kylah did. Nor would I have any way to know if I was high enough to avoid slamming straight into the jagged rock walls and peaks until I either killed us both, or realized I'd been flying long enough now that I must have passed them. So, I took the long way around.

I flew out the same way the humans had nearly broached our valley the day they'd attacked my son. There were mountains at that end of the valley as well, but that was where they were the lowest, and the passes between them the widest. It was perhaps the longest way out of the valley and back towards the area I'd Kylah, but with all the snow, clouds and wind, it was also the safest.

Now and then an especially rough burst of wind rocked me back and forth in the sky, or hoisted me upon it's grasp beyond my ability to control, then let me plunge straight back towards the earth below, forcing me to use my full wing span just to control, and then stop my descent. I glanced back once and saw Kylah staring at me, her beautiful emerald eyes as wide as I'd ever seen them. And pale as her face was, her eyes stood out more sharply then ever. At first I thought it was the cold getting to her, though I soon realized it was constant motion of the flight. I couldn't blame her, I had flown nearly my entire life, and this storm was making even me a little nervous. This was exactly the sort of weather I'd have never let my children fly in, and yet here I was flying in it myself simply because I didn't want to wait around any longer.

I just hoped all the up and down, and side to side motions didn't make Kylah vomit all over my back. That would make for a very unpleasant flight for both of us. I told her to hang on as tightly as she could until we were out of the worst of it, though I probably didn't need too. Already her arms had circled my neck in the sort of chokingly tight embrace she hadn't given me since the first flight I'd taken her on.

When I crested the mountains at the far end of the valley, I made sure to stay far higher then I had too. After all, taking the safest route wouldn't do me any good if I stayed too low and one of those unexpected bursts of wind hurled me down into the rough rock before I was able to stop my descent again.

In the snowstorm, everything around me was white. Up was white, down was white, even the end of my snout looked white as the snows piled atop it a little faster then my body heat melted them. At least my wings and my back stayed black. I looked back at myself now and then as if to make sure my colors had not melted away and I hadn't become just another icy part of the winter world. Thankfully the constant motion of my wings kept them extra warm and free of snow, and the area along my back between them was the same way. Snow coated the packs and bags I carried, and it coated Kylah's cloak, crusting her in arctic purity. Looking back at myself like that, it almost looked as though a pair of black wings were floating by themselves, working up and down against the ever falling snow.

I thanked whatever God would listen for giving me an excellent sense of direction even by the standards of my species. I could practically figure out which direction I was facing with my eyes closed, in the middle of an empty, dark cavern, and I was nearly always right. I had once heard from elders that at one time, human scholars theorized that dragons were naturally attuned to the magnetic forces of the earth and its poles as were some other animals, such as migrating birds and insects. I had no idea what a magnetic pole was, but I put it off as nonsense the moment I heard he'd lumped us in with animals. No doubt the human was just talking to hear his head rattle.

I also had good idea of my elevation. Years upon years upon years of flying had given me the ability to almost taste my altitude in the air. I could measure roughly by how hard my lungs were working and how hard my heart was beating and my minor hearts were pulsing just how thin the air was, and thusly, about how high I was. I knew how high the mountains were, and I made sure to keep myself far above the highest of the peaks I planned to travel over.

Eventually I must have crossed over them, though it was an eerie feeling not knowing for sure. I had expected to see them looming beneath me, strange malformed shadows stretching their jagged spires like claws hoping to tear me from the air. But I had forgotten to take into account the fact that the mountains were now as snow covered as everything else for miles around. Right now I probably wouldn't have seen the mountains even if I was crashing into them! They may as well have been invisible walls beneath me, like spider's webs in the darkness, set and waiting to catch the prey that would never see the trap even as it claimed their freedom and their lives.

I shivered, and not from the snow that had long ago numbed my wings and my body. Though I had come to trust Kylah now, I could not help but wonder if I was flying headlong into some unseen trap, waiting to climb my own life. Was it possible she was but a pawn in some greater scheme? Were the humans I was going to try and fight for her people prepared for any sort of attack, including that of a dragon? Were their dragon slayers stationed nearby, called in after they found their dead comrades campsite? It was all possible, but it was all equally unlikely. I was a paranoid old beast, and I had come to accept that about myself. I did what I could to put all the admittedly unnerving "what-if's" out of my mind, and simply concentrated on my flight.

Eventually, the ground began to slope away below us as the elevation began to drop. Or so I assumed that it did! White as everything was all in directions, I could only hope that the lay of the land had not distracted altered since the last time I came this way. In the span of time I'd been flying, I knew that the most rugged of the peaks should have given way to more gently sloped mountains and larger hills by now, which would in turn give way to the rolling piles of rock, and eventually the forested foothills.

Thankfully, by the time we reached those very foothills, the storm had let up significantly. The relentless blizzard that pounded the deeper mountains was only a gentle snow over the forested hills. The wind had died away, the snows had lessened, and once more I was able to see the world bathed in white. The tall pines and firs that covered the hills beneath us were like row upon row of icy white cones jutting up from the ground, looking like the spikes that protected some ancient beast, or the teeth in a maw larger then I could possibly see. Which made it feel like a slightly unnerving place to land for the day, but I was tired of flying, tired of the cold, and I imagine Kylah was doubly so.

I landed in the closest thing I could find to a clearing, and Kylah and I worked our way beneath a tall ring of fir trees that had grown together so tightly their boughs were nearly woven together in a solid rooftop. The ground beneath them was still dry, and though covered in prickly brown needles, hardly a flake of snow had touched it. It was going to be a cold night, but at least the snow here was gentle, and in a way, insulating. There was enough room beneath the cluster of trees for us to spread out some of the blankets to lay on, and Kylah was even able to build a small fire to help keep us warm. The heat melted some of the snow above us and withered some of the lower branches, but we thought it was a small sacrifice for the trees to make.

I was glad to have chosen to bring so many supplies, because after a day spent flying through driving snow and icy winds, the last thing I wanted to do was head back out into the snow again to hunt, no matter how gently it was now falling. It was a rare thing for me to not want to fly, and I knew it would be a short lived desire. I felt my belly with leftover meat, and Kylah did the same along with some of the hard tack I'd brought. She warmed hers by the fire, but I was far more interested in warming myself. I ate the meat cold, and then spent a good portion of the evening twisting and turning myself beneath the towering trees trying to restore feeling to every last portion of my body. I couldn't quite fully stand beneath the trees, and kept scratching my wings on the prickly needles over the lower boughs, and finally tore the limbs away and tossed them into the fire as if to punish them for daring to poke me.

In the end I was warm enough, and though we kept the fire small so as not to melt away the snow from the very top of the tree, enough heat built beneath it for a few cold droplets to find their way down. Other then the occasional wetness, after we let the fire die down the snow above clinging to bough and limb kept the natural shelter warmer then the air beyond it. Kylah was good enough to spread a few of the blankets across me after my awkward attempts at covering by trying to fling them over my back only resulted in knocking down branches and showering myself in needles, then getting the blanket stuck in the tree. Once she convinced me to just lay down and let her do it, things were much easily. She draped blankets across me, and then lay down next to me, her head on her back and blankets both beneath and above her.

Darkness crept across the land, and with it, silence. The snow continued to lightly fall, fluffy flakes gliding back and forth through the air on the ceaseless decent to join their fellows piped up on the earth and everything on. The blanket of snow smothered all sound, and the only noises anywhere were the occasional popping of the dying fire, and our own breathing. The long day's flight through such tough conditions left me tired, and before I knew it, I had fallen fast asleep.

I dreamt, brightly and vividly as I always did. Though I did not always remember my dreams, I always knew I'd had them. Usually when I woke the memories teased at my mind, like the soft trace of a lover's claw against my scales. I knew they were there, but as soon as I grasped for them, they slipped through my fingers as easily and surely as the wind itself. Now and then I did remember them, and they were always bright, vivid, sometimes more so then life. Often I dreamt of flight, often I dreamt of the days when my valley was filled with my kind. Sometimes I dreamt of the times before I had ever hatched, when we were many and the world was ours to fly and explore, to spread our wings on the endless wings of true freedom. Other times I dreamt of solitude, and loneliness.

That night of dreamt of all those things.

From what I could remember of the dream, I began it in the air. The skies were clear and blue and infinite. The air was cool beneath my wings, fresh and clean in my nostrils. The sun was warm on my scales. And everywhere I looked, there were dragons. As far as I could see in all directions, there were scales of shining color and vast, beautiful wings of every hue. I was happy to see so many dragons, and in the dream, that was the way it had always been. I danced in the sky with them, flying loops and swirling patterns, chasing each other and laughing like happy hatchlings without a worry in all the world. We were all painted as well, in all the colors of autumn and Autumn Festival. We were celebrating the changing of the seasons, with no knowledge that the coming end of autumn was also the end of dragons.

Gradually, clouds began to build on the horizon, and the winds grow colder. Traces of snow and frost tinted the scent of the air, and yet we paid it no heed. We danced and fly, spinning and wheeling, even coupling in the air, celebrating our lives, our greatness, and paying no attention to the coming winter. But in the distance, the clouds built and built and gradually the bubbling gray and white forms began to overtake our flawless blue skies.

One by one, the dragons in the distance began to fall from the skies just like the autumn leaves they were painted to represent. They did not fall swiftly like a dragon shot through the heart with an arrow. Rather, they fell as though they really were naught but dead, brittle leaves. Dried husks slowly twisting, spiraling and yet somehow gracefully descending through the air. In the dream, there was no ground beneath us, and yet I found myself afraid of falling. I was the only dragon who even noticed the others gradually falling away from us, fluttering slowly out of sight.

Only when the cold winds hit did the other dragons begin to fear the inevitable. By then there were few of us left in the skies. Only a few dozen or so, about the same number as had populated my valley when I was a child. Many of those same dragons now filled my dreams. Faces and scale color patterns I had not seen in many years, save in other dreams. Dragons who were long dead, or had long since left our valley in search of somewhere safe.

I could still remember each and every name. They had all been my friends in one way or another. In such a small, close knit clan, we had little room for animosity between us. I'd even become friends with the older dragon who bullied me as a hatchling as we both grew up. Sure, there was anger in tribe, dragons were creatures of powerful emotion. But disputes were always settled one way or another, and forgiveness was always granted. It was the only way for things to be with so few of us left. Strange that in a dream I should still somehow link our tribe's forgiving ways with the same message an ancestor had scrawled on the White Cliffs. That we should forgive always.

In the dream I called out to them, and they called back. Their voices bubbling with panic. Too long had we danced in the sky and ignored the rising winds, and now we were trapped in the storm. There was no where for us to go, now, no where to hide from the driving snows and buffeting winds. We had ignored all the warning signs and now our time was over. One by one, my friends fell away from me in the snow, and I awaited my own time to fall.

But it never came.

Instead, the snows and clouds cleared away, and once more I was flying in a deep blue endless sky. But the beauty was long gone. The whirling sea of colors that had populated it before, the vast expanse of my people's race had been wiped away as surely as the rising tides cleanse the seashore. The endless sky that had once been filled with color and with happiness was now filled only with emptiness, and with loneliness.

I was the last, and I flew alone.

I woke then, and with a heavy heart wondered if I truly was the last.

I felt warmth sliding along my neck. I lifted my head from the ground a little bit. Kylah was awake, and even through the darkness I could see the worry and concern in her eyes. She didn't say a word, but she didn't have too. I must have been talking or whimpering in my sleep, she knew I was upset. She did not ask me why, and I thanked her for it by turning my head to press my muzzle into her hand, and gently nuzzled it. Then I lay my head back down next to her warmth, and closed my eyes.

Kylah silently stroked the scales of my neck until I fell back to sleep.

Chapter Thirteen

The next morning dawned bright and sunlit, in sharp contrast to the day before it. Though the snow had fallen almost all night, the clouds must have cleared sometime shortly before dawn. Where the day before I had been unable to see anything thanks to all the blinding snow, this day I was barely able to see because of the sheer brilliance of the sunlight reflecting so intensely off the blanket of snow that covered everything. And despite the sunshine, the morning was still bone-achingly cold. Kylah once more bundled up in her heaviest winter clothing and cloak. Once we were packed and back in the air, she huddled up against me again, this time for warmth.

At least the sunlight felt good against my wings. My body was a little sore from so much flight in such heavy winds, especially all along my spine, where the muscles that powered my wings were located. Thankfully I was able to work out the worst of the soreness and without the presence of much wind it was much easier to get back into the natural rhythm of flight.

For the first few hours of the day, I found myself squinting constantly. My flight membranes shielded my eyes from a little of the glare shooting up at me off the snow, but not enough of it. My eyes never stopped watering until the snow finally began to thin out as we passed over increasingly lower and lower elevations. Thanks to the power of the storm the day before, my flight speed had been greatly reduced. Because of that and the fact that I had to take the roundabout way to avoid the taller mountains, I had only gotten about half as far as I'd originally planned.

Only nearing noon the second day of the trip had I finally gotten back to near the area I'd originally met Kylah. But by the time we'd reached that point, the air had gone from sub-freezing to simply cool. Here, the ground beneath us looked green and wet, it had only rained here as far as I could tell. I looked behind myself, and the view was breath-taking. Beautiful enough that I flew a few slow circles to make sure Kylah had a chance to take it in.

It was very easy to see the dividing line between snow and rain as the hills and mountains ascended like weather-worn steps towards the sky. Directly below us was a gently rolling ocean of greens, reds and oranges. Greens that shone like wet emeralds, greens as pale as limes, and greens so intense they bordered on blue. All manner of evergreens each with their own claim to their perennial color, mingling with oak and ash and aspen, and other trees I could not name who struggled to hold onto the last of their colorful autumn leaves. Any day now, and the wash of swirled fall colors would give way to patchwork brown skeletons clawing enviously at the other trees that were able to hold their foliage even through winter's grasp.

The hills that made the forest's mélange of colors rise and fall like ocean waves gradually grew taller in the distance, then steeper and sharper. First there was but a dusting of white atop the very crest of the hills, which truly did make them look like waves with a topping of foam, frozen in time just as they were beginning to curl in on themselves, white capping before complete collapse.

Gradually that coating of white crept further and further down the hillside, and then there was nothing but white shapes as far behind us as I could see. All the jagged angles and sheer cliffs and tall bluffs, all the myriad shapes the mountains created as they rose higher and higher in the sky, the sharp silhouettes that the gray and red stone usually cut against the skyline were gone. Everything had been smoothed out and overtaken by the thick coating of snow. Highest in the mountains where we'd come from had probably gotten several feet of since the start of the storm. The tall pines and firs further up the mountains that had resembled white teeth the day before were now so coated in snow that at a distance, they simply blended into one strange, bumpy white texture. And beyond them, to the heart of my mountain range, there was nothing but a solid wall of swirling white. The back edge of the storm still hung over the mountains, veiling them in it's sheer white gauze. So placid looking from behind, hiding the malicious winds within that had nearly torn me from the sky.

Once Kylah and I had both gotten a long look at the striking horizon, I turned back towards my destination. Now that the storm was long behind us, I was able to pick up speed again even without having to beat my wings that much harder. I flew lower then I usually did as well, to try and give Kylah a chance to warm up. Though we were lower in altitude the air high up was still quite cold. But between my lower flight and the now constantly present sunshine, Kylah was eventually able to first pull back her hood, and eventually take off the cloak entirely. At first I was a little surprised to see her remove it, but then I remembered she had so many layers of clothing on beneath it she could barely walk.

"Warm enough?" I asked, only half teasing.

"I am now," She called back to me.

"I should think with all that clothing you're about warm enough to light yourself on fire."

"You just don't understand the value of warm clothes because you're so used to going naked."

"I hardly consider myself naked! I do have scales, you know."

"Not where it matters."

That made me chuckle. I suppose she had a point there. "I'll admit, those blankets last night were nice and warm."

"See?"

"But blankets are not clothes. Besides, I'm probably just spoiled because I'm so used to sleeping in my home every night, it stays nice and warm in there in the winter. And nice and cool in the summer!"

Kylah patted my shoulder, sitting back a little. Now that my flight was steady and smooth again, she was relaxing. "And yet you always complain about being forced to live in a cave!"

I would have flexed my wings, but I was busy using them to keep us from plummeting to our deaths. "Doesn't mean I can't enjoy it's benefits now and then. Besides, a grumpy old dragon needs to have something to complain about, doesn't he?"

Kylah laughed, rubbing the back of my neck with her hand. "Vraal, when you some day die, and God forbid that should be any time but ages from now, you will be the only dragon there who can actually find something to complain about in heaven!" She altered her voice, dropping it to a lower, growling register in a admittedly amusing attempt to imitate my voice. "My cloud's not fluffy enough! This ambrosia's not sweet enough!"

That made me laugh, and I shook my horned head a little as I flew. Perhaps she had a point. Ah well, I wasn't about to stop complaining now. As I thought about it, I wasn't sure which made me smile more. That Kylah had gotten comfortable enough around me to playfully mock me to my face, or that she actually thought dragons would go to heaven when they died. It was not a concept I'd ever decided if I believed in or not. As I understood it, dragons had once been fairly religious creatures. Though as our numbers dwindled and our people were scattered, so too was our faith. Some abandoned it completely, and I could not blame them. It was hard to believe in something that seemed as though it had left your entire species to die, after all. And yet, I had never decided that I didn't believe, either. Some in my tribe did, some did not, and it had never been a source of conflict for us. Though I knew well enough that among the human religions I was familiar with, they saw us as creatures of evil. I had never even imagined that a human might even consider the chance a dragon might make his way into heaven. I knew there were many who would consider what Kylah said blasphemy, and yet she sounded as though she believed it!

That made me smile.

Much of the rest of the day's journey was spent in relative quiet. We chatted casually now and then, but with the relative lack of wind Kylah and I didn't have to shout too loudly to be heard. For long stretches I concentrated on where I was, and Kylah just watched the scenery glide along beneath us. At times she seemed almost endlessly fascinated by the fact she was flying, and that made me smile too.

I had a relative idea where I was going, I knew Kylah's village must be one of the nearest human villages to my valley, but I had no idea which one was hers, or in exactly which direction it lay. So at first I simple flew in the general direction of human lands, and eventually I had Kylah tell me of landmarks to look for. A towering pinnacle of black and gray rock that topped a small, forested hill. A lake shaped like a tear drop. A covered bridge painted red that spanned a deep river.

One by one I was able to find the landmarks. Each time I altered my course slightly based on the direction Kylah gave me. We were still a ways away from her village, but she knew these lands well having lived and hunted in them all her life. Shortly before we reached the red bridge, something occurred to me. I ascended higher, beating my wings sharply a few times to get a better lay of the land. I circled a few times, surveying the area. I saw the red bridge in the distance, and followed the road that lead to it with my eyes. There was a circular pathway beneath us, a place where several other small roads all intersected the larger road, and whoever cut the roads through the trees also cut a winding circle to connect them all at that intersection.

Ironically, I knew that place. I had been here before, and more then once. Not for quite a few years that I could remember, but that circular intersection of roads, near a red bridge sparked memories of my younger days. My younger days raiding the humans. I circled once more, and began to laugh. How fitting, I was now going to help some of the same humans I'd raided! True, the village likely had nothing to do with the shipments I'd attacked on the roads below, though they likely benefited from their traveling through the area.

"What are you laughing at?" Kylah asked me, probably thinking I'd just lost my mind!

"Wouldn't you like to know," I teased her.

"Oh very funny, Vraal. What is it?"

"I've just remembered something," I said, not adding any more then that.

"And...what is it?"

"You see this road beneath us?" I asked, waving my paw at it despite the fact she couldn't see it through my body. "I've raided this road!"

"You mean..."

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," I said, even though I didn't let her finish. "Some of my collection came from down there! I think I hit a shipment of gold, and another of silks and clothing, though it's been so long I don't remember. But hell, you're probably wearing clothes I took off some merchant's caravan down there!"

"You brat!" she said, slapping my shoulder with her hand, and laughing at the same time. "You big, scaly, Brat! You never told me any of those "raids" of yours were on our lands and our roads!"

"I didn't know they were until just now. But it seems like your people live in some of the closest villages to my home. Where did you expect me to have raided?"

"Somewhere...somewhere else!" She folded her arms atop my back, though when I glanced back at her I could see her still grinning. "Somewhere with more money and more treasure to steal."

"Usually I did. But when I felt lazy, or I saw an easy mark down here, I wasn't going to pass it up!"

"Lazy? Are you saying attacking our lands is only for lazy dragons?"

"Something like that," I chuckled. "It's hardly meant as an insult. It's only lazy because they're the closest possible place. Usually I'd fly much further. The spoils were better, anyway. Besides, I can tell by that smirk on your face you find this as amusing as I do."

Kylah unfolded her arms again, patting the back of my neck. "I never liked any of those merchants anyway. Bunch of greedy, fat, bastards who don't know how to keep their hands to themselves."

That made me laugh again, and I turned my head to grin back at her. "I'll bet you taught them how."

Kylah shrugged, her green eyes flashing as her hair whipped around her face. "I didn't break all their fingers."

My laughter grew as I turned my eyes back to my destination. "I'm sure found someone else to count their money." I thought back to those days, I had been a much younger dragon then. And quite often, much angrier at the world. "They were likely not even the same merchants. This was many years ago, you may not have even been born yet."

"Perhaps. Did...you ever raid my village?"

That was an intriguing idea. I'd never gone out and out and attacked a village or town, though I had defended myself against its forces in full view of its people before. Though I didn't recall that ever happening out here. What I did recall was stealing quite a few sheep and other livestock in the middle of the night from various villages, on various occasions. "That may depend on your definition of raid," I admitted.

"Did you ever attack my village?" A little concern was creeping into her voice now. I think she would have already known if I had, if I'd done any real damage no doubt stories about the vicious dragon attack would linger for years. Much like the town she passed through after it had been burned down, supposedly by one of my kin.

So I turned the question back on her in a way. "Has a dragon ever attacked your village?"

"Not that I know of," she said, her own concern being edged out by relief. "I guess I should have just thought about it first. But when you mention raiding I couldn't help but wonder...wait!"

Uh oh, I thought. "Wait, what?" I asked, as innocently as I could.

"Did you ever steal sheep from my village?"

Caught. Or was I? "What does your village look like? What might it look like from the air?"

Kylah thought about it a little, picturing her village. "We have maps of it, those are sort of like an aerial view. There are two main roads through town, and they cross in the middle."

So did half the human villages I'd flown over throughout my life.

"It has a river that winds through one side of town, almost to the center of town. It has some big watermills with waterwheels that the river pushes through, the biggest one not far from the center of town."

Uh oh. That was starting to sound familiar. Granted, several villages in the area had something similar.

"And there are some windmills outside of town, as well, one up on a hill. We have a large wooden fence around the outside of town, but that hasn't always been there. Oh! And the river winds back and forth a lot, and one of the main roads crosses it three times. So there are three bridges that you'd see from the air, the biggest one is painted blue and gold right now and has some beautiful arches."

Uh. Oh. I cleared my throat with a growl.

"Does that sound familiar?"

"It might."

Kylah, getting bolder every minute she flew on my back, half crawled up my neck to grab one of my sensitive ears. She gave it a sharp yank. "Vraal!"

"OW! What!"

"Did you steel my village's sheep?"

"...Maybe?"

Kylah yanked my ear again, and then twisted it. "Vraal!"

"OW! Yes! I stole your village's sheep! Stop mangling my ear!"

Satisfied with my confession, she slipped back down my neck and settled herself just before my shoulders. "So that was you! You rotten old lizard."

"Oh, hush. Your village had plenty of sheep. It wasn't like I ever took more than one at a time."

"We had three sheep go missing in one night!"

"I said one at a time! I never said I didn't come back for more, they were good sheep!" I was glad to hear Kylah laughing at that. I didn't think she was really angry at me, but I wasn't always sure. "I haven't been there for years, though. I guess you were old enough to remember that after all, hmm?"

"Only vaguely. I was only a couple years old at the time, at the most. I think the only reason I remember it is this crusty old farmer still rants about it to anyone who listens! Of course, it sure caused an uproar the next day when the town guard went out and found dragon footprints all over the place. They were up in arms for months preparing for you to come back, half convinced you were gonna burn down the village."

That made me chuckle. "Exactly why I never returned. Once you've been to a city a few times, they start to expect you, and that's when it starts to get dangerous. I only came at night, though, I only took sheep, and I never hurt anyone."

"I know, Vraal," Kylah said softly, rubbing my shoulder. "You're a softy at heart."

"I should hope I'm not! This little endeavor's going to go south fast if I can't bring myself to fight the men occupying your village."

"Oh, I think you already proved you know how to fight those kind of men! I just meant you have a good heart. You don't hurt anyone unless you have too. From what you said, it sounds like you didn't even hurt anyone when you raided those people unless you absolutely have too! Not that I'm condoning you raiding humans, but it shows what kind of heart you have when you're even careful with peoples lives at a time like that. And you saved my life, too, and now you're..."

"Alright, alright," I muttered. "Let's not make me sound too much like hatchling who can't find his claws."

"A hatchling who...what?" Kylah sounded confused, and I realized she'd probably never heard that before. "Hatchlings have to find their claws?"

"No, Kylah," I said. "It's an expression. A dragon expression. Maybe I didn't translate it right. It simply means a softy, as you put it, or a weakling, something along those lines. Only...not as harsh."

Kylah laughed for some reason, and I realized she was probably just teasing me again. I flew on, and as I passed over the covered red bridge, I noticed something adorning it's side. A symbol had been recently painted there, a symbol that was only vaguely familiar at first.

"Those bastards," Kylah hissed.

Ah, yes. The symbol of the men who had taken over her town. They had painted a large square on either side of the bridge's red wall black in order to paint their own emblem over the top of that so that it stand out. Each side of the covered bridge's wall now sported a large black square. Inside that black square was a red triangle edged in gold, with a silver sword painted inside the triangle.

"That is their emblem, I take it?"

"Yes," Kylah muttered, folding her arms and grumbling under her breath. "Trying to make themselves some kind of damn bandit army by taking all our lands and resources for themselves. Now they think they can take our roads? These roads are supposed to be freely traveled by all! No taxes or tolls, that's the whole point of travel between our villages. I have to wonder if these are some of the same bandits we've run out of here and fought off time and again, only with someone to organize them."

"It sounds as though it's about time for someone to really stand up to them," I said, as much to myself as Kylah.

"It is," she said with a lot more strength in her voice then she usually displayed. I could feel her body tensing up against my back as she thought about the coming conflict. "Once my village sees you and I fighting for them, I'm sure they'll rally around us. We won't let anyone put their foot on our throats ever again."

Kylah's mood seemed to have taken a darker more thoughtful turn, and I couldn't blame her. I'm sure she was going through the same sorts of doubts I was. Could we really free her village, and would we survive the attempt? Would it be enough to keep them from coming back, or would they just rally their forces and send a bigger army? If we were successful, did these men really deserve to die?

It was the last question that played on my mind the longest. I held no doubt in my mind that the humans I'd killed to save Kylah deserved the deaths I brought them. I suspected that the other men in the village did as well, but I had no way to be sure. Were they all as cruel as those who were going to rape and murder the woman I'd come to call my friend? Or were they simple wrapped up in something beyond their control, or indoctrinated into something they didn't truly understand? I was unused to feeling concern for humans, let alone humans I planned to kill, but getting to know Kylah had changed me in a way. Nonetheless, very soon it was going to be me, or them. I was going to go into her village, attempt to force them to leave. And if they attacked me, I was going to kill them or die trying.

I think Kylah and I both knew it was going to be _when_they attacked me, not if.

We spent the rest of the afternoon's flight in relative silence, each of us lost in our tangle of thoughts. Now and then Kyluh gave me directions again, turned me towards the right path. Though it seemed I had been to her village before and procured myself a few tasty treats, that had been many years ago. I had hardly memorized the way even back then, and if I had to find it now on my own I'd be lucky to stumble upon it merely by accident.

Eventually I came upon the ribbon of blue that wound through the thick forests that covered the area. The land was not so hilly here, and from above the land looked like wide, flat swath of gray-green trees, dappled widely with reds and oranges. It always intrigued how in a days flight I could cover lands from high up in the mountains where every tree possible had long since lost it's leaves, all the way down to the flatter, lower forests where some of the trees foliage was only now changing colors. No doubt within a few weeks these forests too would be full of skeletons, and the rains that had swept through recently would change to snow as well.

The river I began to follow wound lazily back and forth through the trees, and occasional some sweeping meadows. Much as my valley had been a few weeks ago, the meadows here were still mostly covered with green grasses, and the last of the late season wildflowers. A small herd of deer was grazing upon one such meadow, and though I liked my muzzle and my belly rumbled I had no time for hunting.

Following the river kept me clear of the roads for the most part. Though I would have taken some amusement out of frightening travelers, I did not wish to show the village the length of my claws just yet. Another dragon expression Kylah might not have understood. I believe she said something along the lines of "showing her hand too soon" to me once, to which I took she literally meant her hand! Until she explained it. While I doubted random travelers on the road would cause me any real trouble, I didn't want soldiers or sentries or anyone to be able to get word to the village that a dragon was in the area. At least not yet. By now surely they must have discovered the men I'd killed when I saved Kylah, or at least the blood stained campsite marked with fresh dragon paw prints. Though they'd probably just assume I'd eaten Kylah or taken her as some sort of sick trophy, there was a good chance they would fortify themselves just in case I came back. And if they caught word a day or two early that I'd been sighted so near the town, that would only make things harder for me.

By the end of the day, Kylah warned me we were getting perilously close to her village, and that I should be on the lookout for sentries just in case. I lazily circled around until I was west of where she said the town was, so that I had the sun at my back and a better field of view in front me. In the distance I could see plumes of gray smoke cutting a lazy, winding path against the blue sky. A gray-brown smudged hovered just above the horizon, the wind was nearly dead and smoke from cooking fires and hearths lingered over the town like a pall.

I flew a little closer, as slowly as I could without dropping from the sky. Most of the time I glided up on the full extent of my wings and sails, the weight of the air pressing against them and stretching taut the tendons and ligaments along my back, and along my tail where my smaller sails were. As I drew nearer I could faintly see the outline of the town. The windmills Kylah mentioned stood tall, though their giant multi-tiered sail like spokes barely moved in the still air. I could see other tall buildings that Kylah mentioned, at least five of them. Watchtowers, from the look of them. Which meant if their sentries were doing their job properly, they'd already spotted me. As if unconcerned with the human town or unwilling to get any closer, I made a wide, sweeping turn, and headed back the way I came.

"Let's let their sentries think I'm too afraid to get anywhere near their town." I chuckled to myself. "If they even saw me at this distance. I've found that often times sentries in towers are too busy watching the roads and gate ways to ever watch the skies. And when they do, it's rarely at such a distance. Besides, my sight is better then theirs."

"Ah, so it's a dragon's hearing that goes first when he gets old, hmm?" Kylah murmured her teasing joke, absently rubbing my neck.

I knew she was still mostly lost in thought about what was going to happen soon, was I, and she was trying to distract us both. I couldn't blame her, my own heart was thudding away inside my chest seemingly harder by the moment from the first second I spotted those guard towers. As if the sight of them confirmed to me that this was all real, and I really was going to be attacking this town. And on behalf of a human, of all things!

Perhaps attacking the town was not really the right term. It wasn't as though I was planning on raiding it the way I'd normally raid humans, I wasn't taking home any treasure. I had not intention of doing any more damage to the town then I absolutely had too. And I didn't want to hurt anyone except those unwanted men occupying it against the town's will. It was unlike anything I'd ever done before, and I wasn't sure if I was more terrified of the prospect of throwing myself headlong into battle against an occupying force of soldiers, or thrilled by the idea of getting to test myself against the sort of humans I hated most.

I just hoped I'd measure up. This would be more humans then I'd ever fought before, and even with Kylah at my side I'd be considerably outnumbered by the odds. I'd once wondered just how many humans a dragon was worth in battle. Ten? Twenty Five? I had to hope I was worth at least that many, and maybe more if I wanted to come out of this with my heart still beating and not laying roasted upon some human's platter at his victory feast.

"Do humans eat dragon's hearts?" I asked, the question leaving my lips before I'd really thought it through.

Though I didn't look back to see Kylah making a disgusted face, I could hear it coming through in her voice. "I certainly hope not! Then again, you were the last dragon to come through these parts back when you stole some of our town's sheep. We had dragon slayers come through a few years back, but they weren't looking for any dragon in particular, just searching. I've no idea if anyone's ever done that to a dragon. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," I murmured, more to myself then her. "Something I heard, once."

Perhaps it was just a legend. I had no way of knowing. But I'd heard on more than one occasion, from more than one dragon, that when the dragon slayers of old slaughtered one of our kind it was tradition for them to roast the dragon's heart and eat it in victory. I shouldn't think a dragon's heart would taste very good. While it was true the hearts of prey animals could be tasty, they also tended to be a little tough. And long as we lived compared to some animals and hard as our hearts beat, I would think they'd be very tough. It was not a pleasant image either way.

When I felt as though I was far enough away from Kylah's village to land for the night, I began to search for a clearing. I eventually found a small one near a tributary stream of the river that ran through Kylah's home town. I landed and let her off my back, and waited patiently while she unbuckled all the packs and things from around my body. I didn't want to risk hunting this close to our goal, and so once more it was dried and preserved meats and foods for our evening meal.

Kylah and I bathed ourselves in the stream best we could. It was easy enough for her, there was a small pool that came up to her belly and she simply sat down in it. The pool wasn't big enough for me, and I found myself resigned to rolling over in the water a few times in an awkward attempt to rinse my body. It would do, it wasn't as though I'd been rolling around in the dirt and I didn't sweat, so a little cleaning was all that was really required.

Though we knew the night would be cool, we decided against building even a small fire. It would not be quite as cold as the night before, and we did not want to attract anyone's attention. We knew that there were still some bandits in the area, and likely some patrols under control of the force of men in Kylah's town. While anyone thinking to catch travelers unawares would get a very unpleasant surprise should they attempt to ambush me, I didn't really want to get myself into any more fights with humans then I already had too. Better I save my energy for the battle ahead. And if those sentries had in fact spotted me, should they see smoking rising from the direction I'd retreated, they might dispatch a larger force of men to go and see just what the dragon had lit on fire this time.

Soon enough, they'd find out. I made sure to eat a sizable meal that evening, using up most of the rest of my supplies. I left enough to have a smaller meal at night and again at breakfast to keep my strength up, and to make sure my body built up enough flame gas for me to be able to use my fire to the fullest. To that end, I had also brought with me a good portion of dried herbs my kind sometimes cultivated or harvested because we'd discovered they tended to intensify the power of our flame and give us more of it as the herbs worked their way through our system. They also had a bit of an intoxicating effect on us if we consumed too much of them. I kept them in my pack with the last of my supplies for the time being, I would eat them in the middle of the night to maximize the effect by dawn.

Perhaps it was cliché of me to plan my attack for a dawn raid, but I was no military commander. And there was a reason that attacks often happened at dawn. People were just waking or still asleep, they were groggy. Patrols were ending night time duties and beginning morning duties, and it was a vulnerable moment in their routine. Or so I hoped. I had considered attacking at night, but I was afraid that even with my fine nighttime vision, in the chaos of the battle I might not be able to tell Kylah's enemies from her friends and I might lash out at the wrong people. In addition to the fact that the humans themselves probably wouldn't be able to tell I was only attacking their occupiers, and might turn on me thinking it was their town itself I sought to destroy.

So dawn it was. Dawn for the moment that would no doubt change my life forever, one way or another. I would do something great for my people, or I would die trying. But that was not to say I wasn't going to use the night to my advantage as well. Sometime around the middle of the night, I was going to go and scout the town when it would be much harder for the guards to see me. I wanted to learn the layout of the place long before I ever set foot in there to begin my attack.

After we ate, and bathed, Kyluh drew me a rough map in the sands along the creek. She drew the main roads, and the larger side streets. She drew the wall that encircled the town, with the four main gateways, one at each end of the two intersecting roads that marched through the center of her town. The outer wall was roughly a square and made from tall wooden pillars all lashed together, ending in sharp spikes. A guard tower sat at each corner of the wall's four corners, with another guard tower near the center of town. According to Kylah, the soldiers who took her town over were the ones who had erected the towers. Then she drew what she knew of the patrol routes, though she warned me they would change often. She showed me where the men slept, houses that had taken over and turned into makeshift barracks. She showed me what taverns they frequented, harassing the bartenders for free food and drink. And she told me what sort of arms and armor they usually carried, how well prepared they might be for what types of assaults.

As she spoke, I noticed something had changed in her voice. For at least a little while, most of the playful happiness I had come to appreciate was gone. She sounded almost like a military leader plotting an assault, which I suppose was exactly what she was. For a moment I was surprised she knew so much about these men, but then I remembered why she'd been captured and taken away to be executed in the first place. For attempting this exact same sort of uprising. No doubt she'd studied her enemies as extensively as she could beforehand. A shame not enough other humans joined her to put that knowledge to use.

As business-like as she was now, she didn't even seem friendly. Now and then she'd give me a quick, hopeful little smile, or pat me on the muzzle. But then it was right back to work. And when she did glance up to me, I saw a hint of worry flickering in her emerald eyes, glowing almost golden in the fading sunlight. I think I understood then why she was suddenly treating me differently. She was worried about me. Though she had wanted this for a long time, she had come to care for me as a friend, and with the culmination of her efforts to secure my help at hand, it suddenly occurred to her that there was a very real possibility I might die tomorrow. And if I did, she probably felt as though my blood would be on her hands.

"Kylah," I said softly, reaching out with a paw to gently touch her wet hair, and stroke her head. "This is my choice. I'm doing this because I want too. Because I want to help you, and your people. If anything happens to me, it isn't your fault. I will do everything I can to be safe, but if I should fall, you have to continue the fight. Anything that happens to me is not your fault."

I don't know if I said the right thing, or the wrong thing, but she started to cry. Not for long, she had a very tough shell, but I could see now she was truly concerned about me and what she had lead me here to do. She threw her arms around my neck, and hugged my horned head against her chest for several long moments. I could hear her heart pounding her chest as swiftly as I'd ever heard it. I put a fore leg around her to hug her against me in return, feeling a few of her tears running hot down my sleek scales. Finally she pulled away, and smiled, rubbing me between the nostrils.

"Thank you, Vraal."

I still didn't know if I'd said the wrong thing, or the right thing. Was it good or bad that I made her cry? She didn't seem angry, at least, and she hadn't cried for long. I wondered if we should move on. I peered down at her map, licked my muzzle, and then smiled at her, swiveling my ears to the sides of my head. "You're welcome. Is...there anything else?"

She pursed her lips, looking down at the map once more, and then slowly shook her head. "I think that's it. Are you...are you really sure you want to do this, Vraal?"

Her voice trembled a little, and I could tell she was torn now. Part of her was terrified that I'd say no, and return to my home. The other part of her was terrified that I'd go through it after all. A shame I couldn't please both parts of her.

"Yes, Kylah." I suppose in a way I should have always known from the moment I saved her that my softhearted ways would lead me into doing something crazy. Now that I was here, now that I was so close to where people like those I'd killed to protect her were doing deeds like that every day, I knew there was no way I'd turn back. "I'm sure."

"Alright, Vraal." She rubbed my muzzle again, a faint smile traced across her lips as her soft fingers worked between my nostrils. "We should try to get some sleep soon. We're going to need our rest."

She was right, of course. We would need our rest, though I wasn't sure I was going to be able to sleep much that night. Did anyone ever really sleep soundly the night before throwing themselves into a battle that could easily claim their lives? The night before they would be trying to take lives themselves? Again I cursed myself for suddenly feeling compassion towards the humans. I should have been prepared to kill them as swiftly as I'd killed the men planning to rape Kylah. So why was I having doubts now? Probably because I'd have so much time to think about what I was going to do, instead of simply acting on what I saw before me.

I curled up beneath the trees, in the blankets Kylah laid out, and tried not to think about it. Yet it lay heavily across my mind like the snow that blanketed the mountains, smothering out all other thoughts with stifling silence. I wanted to sleep, I knew I needed the sleep and yet it couldn't quite reach me. Eventually I drifted off and dozed restlessly now and then, but never for more then an hour at a time, at most. At best I seemed to drift away from my thoughts for a little while, only to wake and find myself faced with them once again.

After dozing and waking a few times, I looked up at the stars, and the moon. It provided little light that evening, merely a silver sliver of a crescent hanging above the trees. I judged it to be a little after midnight, and I supposed that was as good a time as any to go and scout out the town. I rose to my feet, stretched a little and shook myself. I saw what scant moonlight there was reflect of Kylah's green eyes as she peered up at me. She must have been sleeping about as well as I was.

I told her I was going to scout the town, and before she could offer anything more then to tell me to be careful, I was already in the air. I winged my way towards the distant town, soaring just above the very tops of the trees. Almost low enough for the conical top of the taller pine trees to tickle the scales of my belly. At night, the higher I flew the easier I was to spot. Though my black scales blended easily with the darkness that coddled the world at night, I still made quite a striking shadowy silhouette against the stars above.

It was not a long trip for my wings, especially when I flew as swiftly as I could. Before long light was flickering on the horizon, growing brighter and brighter the nearer I drew to it. There were torches ensconced along the watchtowers, at each gateway, and throughout the town. The wall had no walkway atop it like some of the larger human towns I'd seen, though I imagined they were considering building one. Kylah said it was the soldiers who had built the watchtowers and I suspected fortifying the wall would be next. With any luck, they'd never get that chance.

As I neared the town I began to ascend, higher and higher. Though I knew they might notice me if they looked straight up, they would certainly notice me if I suddenly soared over the top of their wall and winged my way about from watchtower to watchtower. So now that I was nearly there, I'd take my chances high above them, and see what I could learn.

Once I was high enough, I began to circle the town. I hoped that I was high enough that even if they did look up at the stars, my silhouette would be a little too small to be immediately recognizable. From high above, I had a good view of the entire town, especially as I wheeled lazily about. The myriad torches and lanterns throughout the town helped to outline it's layout for me. The two primary roads that crossed in the center of town and ran to the four exits were both completely outlined in flickering orange thanks to the row of torches and tall lanterns and lamps that ran on either side. I could even see the three bridges, elegantly arched iron lamp posts crossing above it, illuminating it from lamps suspended over the center of the wooden span.

I could see some of the men I'd come here to kill, as well. Some of them carried torches as they patrolled, walking the roads the same way any soldier did. I watched one of the patrols for a while, and I was pleased to see that Kylah's information still seemed accurate. They were following the same general routes she'd outlined for me. I saw a few more men walking who also bore their uniform, but without a torch. Perhaps hoping to catch unaware while they broke whatever foolish laws they'd set up since they had taken over the town. From what I could tell, most of the men wore a simple sort of armor, thick padded leather adorned with rows of metal studs. A few of them wore chain mail shirts instead, perhaps they were the higher ranking men. None of them wore anything that would pose a serious problem for my claws and teeth, let alone my fire. I was more concerned with the bows and crossbows some of them had, especially those in the watchtowers. It looked as though if I wasn't careful, I was going to end up being used for archery practice by the sentries in the towers while I was stuck engaging their ground level forces.

Wheeling around again, I spotted the building that Kylah told me had become the men's barracks. Once the largest and grandest inn in the town, it now served as headquarters and barracks for the force stationed in her village. As she told me, they did not get enough travelers to ever need more then a couple of inns but those they did have provided a good source of revenue as there were always a few traders and merchant groups passing through as well as other assorted travelers. The town had been proud of their Grand Inn, once one of the biggest and prettiest buildings in their town. It was only two stories tall, but it was a long building, elegantly curved in design to follow the flow of the river which curled lazily behind it. White walls with crossed black beams spanning them, and pretty golden ivy patterns painted onto the crossed beams. Two twin tree trunks of dark mahogany were carved into columns and held up the gracefully arched roof of the entryway, more dark wood carved to resemble vines and grapes that cascaded down across the pillars.

It occurred to me as I flew above the town that the building was probably full of sleeping soldiers right now, likely half the force was in there, if not more. There were only a few dozen people total from what I heard. Kylah told me there were more early on, but once they'd successfully quelled the town, they'd sent some of the men elsewhere, probably to start infiltrating other towns. Early on they had been especially brutal, beating anyone who spoke against them, burning homes and businesses to make sure there was no more dissent. Which told me they knew there were more then enough people in the town to wipe them out, if they ever got the courage in their hearts to pull that foot from their throat and fight back. That was why they sent Kylah away to be killed, rather then kill her in the street as they might have done to others in the early days, when they had more men. They feared making her a martyr because it might galvanize their victims.

I wondered then, what a dragon fighting on their behalf might do for them?

As I peered down at the inn-turned-barracks, I considered attacking right now. If I hit the barracks with all the fire I could manage, I could burn half the men in their beds, make much job much easier. Fly off in the night, leave them wondering what happened, and return with Kylah in the morning. Hit them again while they counted their dead, and wipe the rest of them out. It was a sound plan, and strategically, a very good one I thought.

But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Yes, I was here to kill these men, but I couldn't find it in my brambly old dragon heart to burn them to death in their beds. Perhaps it was foolish of me. One way or another, I was here to kill them, and if I burned down that inn right now it would make the job a lot easier for me. And in all likeliehood, I would hear their screams in my nightmares for the rest of my life. Strange that I barely gave another thought to the men I'd killed the day I met Kylah, and hear I was actually worried about how these men might die. It wasn't that I would never use my fire to kill someone in battle, but...well, perhaps that was the difference. Perhaps it was just my dragon pride telling me that killing them in their sleep would be cowardly. I told myself that, not wanting to admit just how softhearted I seemed to be becoming.

I circled the town again, trying to count the men. I saw one in each watchtower, that made five. I saw three two man patrols, that made eleven. A few other individual men I wasn't sure where they'd gone, and at least one man manning each gate. Plus, who knew how many were sleeping. A few more men, drunk and stumbling from what I imagined was a tavern, dragging a woman by her arm. I winced, I wanted to drop down and help her then and there like I had for Kylah. But that sort of brash intervention here could get me killed. There were too many men around that area for me to simple land amidst them and expect to escape unscathed. My belly twisted a little, I didn't like being outnumbered no matter how big I was. I was going to have to be careful, and I was going to have to fight like a dragon. Whatever the hell that meant.

Sadly, what it meant now was that I couldn't stop them from doing whatever they wished to that woman. She wasn't putting up much resistance, not the way Kylah was, and I wondered if she was used to it. What a terrible thing to get used too. Whatever lingering doubts I had about attacking these men tomorrow were quickly being washed away by a flood of disgust for them.

I decided I had seen enough, and turned back towards camp. I was once more thankful for my sense of direction, was without a camp fight I hadn't realized how hard it might be to find that one small clearing where Kylah was in all the many miles of forests. But it was pretty much straight east of the town, and once I'd oriented myself, it wasn't too hard to find the place. Before long, I had landed and once more crawled beneath the trees, near the softly burbling waters of the little stream we'd bathed in earlier.

Kylah was still awake as I settled next to her, and began to dig through one of my packs. She placed a hand on my fore leg, and stroked my scales a little. "Well? What do you think?"

"I think we should have brought more dragons," I said with a little chuckle. "There are quite a few soldiers there."

"We don't have too..."

"We do," was all I told her. I didn't mention the woman, she knew well enough what the soldiers in her village were doing to it's people. What they almost did to her. Something else occurred to me then. Was that the first time they'd tried that? Or had they...I pushed it out of my mind. I wouldn't demean her by asking such a thing. I just repeated myself. "We do."

Kylah chewed on her lip a moment, still stroking my leg. "I don't think we'll be alone for long. Once the people figure out what's going on, I think they'll help us. This town is becoming a tinderbox of boiling anger. They just need a spark and they'll explode in vengeance like those bastards have never seen."

I smirked a little, and licked the end of my snout. I rather liked that idea. "I'll give them a spark, alright." I pulled out all the fire herbs I had in my pack, and began to eat them. They were dried, and tasted bitter, but I forced them down, helped with plenty of water from the stream. And a little bit of throat-burning spirits from a flask I'd stuck into my pack as well. "Nearly gave them a spark tonight."

"Oh?" Kylah reached over and took the flask from my paw without asking, and took a long swig from it.

I took it back, and took another drink as well as she coughed just a little. It was a much stronger spirit then she'd expected, but that didn't stop her from taking it back once more. "I almost burned them alive in their barracks." I flicked my tail tip against the dried leaves and twigs that covered the forest floor. "But I couldn't bring myself to destroy such a pretty inn."

Kylah took one last drink, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she handed me the flask. "You'll get plenty of chances to burn them tomorrow. Is that the fire weed stuff you're eating, now?"

"Fire herb, I think would be a better translation. But yes, that's what I'm eating."

"What's it taste like?"

I scrunched my muzzle, pining my ears back. "If terrible had a flavor, this would be it. But for whatever reason, it stimulates our bodies to make more fire bile and flame gas."

Kylah leaned back against a tree, wrapping her cloak more tightly around herself. "I always used to think dragons just breathed fire like some kind of magical weapon. Something dark forces granted you like some of kind of demonic power. Never even realized it might just be some biological function."

"Well that's what you get for thinking." I gagged down the last of the herbs, and took a long drink of water, then burped loudly. "I think we should attack just after dawn. Hit them while they're changing shifts, while they're groggy. We're going to have to be fast. Very fast."

"I was thinking the same thing."

"There are too many soldiers for us to easily take out alone, especially face to face. Even if your people join us, I don't think they will do so until it looks like we are winning. If they think the two of us are going to be killed, they won't want to be the scapegoats the remaining soldiers take their vengeance out upon. We have to move as swiftly as we can, take down a few of them and move on. Don't let them surround us or gather around us. Humans always try to surround dragons. They're smart enough to know they can't easily take us down face to face, and they know they have an advantage when it comes to numbers. What I will need you to do is watch my back. I can't see everywhere all at once, so if you can I need you to make sure they're not sneaking up behind me, or climbing up onto the roof tops to try and leap onto my back, and plunge a sword into my spine."

Kylah cringed visibly at that image. "I'll do everything I can for you, Vraal."

I smiled, closing up my bag again. "That's all I ask. I think I can smash my way through their gates. I'm going to slip in through the forest if I can, and then ram my way through the gate. Kill anyone there, and go for the nearest watchtower. By that time they should be running after me, and I'm going to run down the side streets, try to loop around. I want to lose some of them between all the buildings, if I can. Then if you can start picking some of them off without endangering yourself too much, I'm hoping we can create enough chaos and confusion to prevent them from ever getting too organized before we've worn them down."

Kylah nodded thoughtfully. "That sounds like a decent plan."

"Best one I have, I'm afraid. I expect it to go completely to hell not long after we attack, anyway. My other plan is to fly low over the trees and right over the wall, take down one of the guard towers immediately, then bash open the gate from the inside so you can get in."

"Why wouldn't I just ride you inside if you're going to do that?"

I flexed my wings in a shrug. "Because I'd be afraid that when I hit the tower, the impact might throw you off."

"I'll be alright." Kylah fingered the dragon bone hilt of one of her swords, running the pads of her fingers back and forth against it. "We'll both be alright, Vraal."

"We'll do our best, anyway," I said, said, not wanting to jinx myself. "You realize this is crazy, right? The two of us attacking this town?"

"Yeah, I do."

I couldn't help but grin at her, thumping my tail in amusement. "But not as crazy as you attacking them all by yourself."

That made her laugh in a bitter sort of way. "I suppose not."

"And I don't suppose we'll be getting any more sleep tonight, either."

She smirked up at me through the darkness, repeating herself. "I suppose not."

"Then perhaps you'd like to help me with a little preparation project. How good is your night vision?"

"Not as good as yours, I'm sure. Does this have anything to do with that extra pack you've been carrying around?"

"It does," I said, pulling that very pack over to myself. I carefully opened it up, it was one of the dragon made packs I had left, so it had large, simple drawstrings suitable for our paws. The bag itself was simple sections of deer hide sewn together, topped thick sinew drawstrings. I opened it and carefully removed the contents. An old book authored by dragons, but not as large as most of our books. And several old jars with fresh paint I'd patiently mixed up while Kylah slept the other night, before we left. I opened the book to the page I wanted, unsure if Kylah would be able to see it or not. "Like that," I said, tapping the picture.

Kylah scooted closer, her cloak still drawn tightly around her body as she peered down. The picture depicted dragons the way we were many lifetimes ago, a warrior of an early dragon clan preparing to go to battle to protect his people. Our own tradition of painting ourselves in celebration had it's origins in other less celebratory practices. Back in the times when even dragons were young, our kind painted ourselves before battle. Symbols to give us luck, to tell clan mates from enemies, to frighten, to bring courage, and any other reason they could think to paint themselves in old symbols.

"First my face, and my paws, then my helmet," I said softly.

Kylah was still staring at the picture. For a moment I thought she didn't like the idea. In days past she'd asked me about the ways we'd painted ourselves in celebration, she always seemed to wish she had a chance to see it. This was hardly the same thing, but I'd decided that if I was going to go into battle to protect someone's people, I should do it the same way my ancestors did. Finally Kylah looked up at me with a smile on her face, her emerald eyes gleaming even in the faint silvery moonlight. She hooked dark brown hair behind her ears, and moved around to sit just in front of me. For a moment a moment she just stared up at me, smiling.

Feeling a little awkward, I tried to explain. "I don't think I could paint my own face very well. I can get my paws, and my helmet, but..."

"Just like that?" She asked, turning the picture to face her.

I slowly nodded. "Black won't show up very well against me, obviously. But I brought blue, and red. I was going to make gold too, but...it's a harder color to make, and I didn't have the right ingredients..."

"Blue and red will look great on you, Vraal. Very frightening."

Kylah pulled the two large jars of paint up next to herself, then looked me over. "Why don't you lay down? If your head is on the ground it'll stay steady."

That was a wise idea, though I wasn't sure I believed in the idea of angry ancestral spirits, just in case I didn't want to mess up their sacred designs and end up cursed with bad luck instead of good! I moved back a little bit and then sprawled out on the blankets we'd been sleeping on earlier. I pushed my head forward and lay it against the ground so that my chin was resting just in front of her knees, where she knelt at the blanket's edge.

Kylah opened the jars of paint, and carefully stirred it with her fingers, heedless of the fact it might permanently stain them. Come to think of it, that was something I'd not considered. I was using the same sort of pain we mixed up to pain our scales with for our sky dancing and celebrations, but I hadn't really considered what it might do to human skin. It washed off our scales fairly easily, but it did tend to stain our paw pads a little bit. Still, it wasn't permanent for us so it probably wouldn't be permanent for Kylah, either. Probably.

She chose the dark blue pain first, and with her fingers began to paint the lines across my face. A wide line of dark blue that ran from the very tip of my snout, up between my nostrils and all the way along my muzzle. She slowly worked the paint up my face, rubbing it in with a few fingers before dipping them back into the jar for more. She kept the line as even as she could, and soon I had dark blue line running all the way across my black scales, up between my horns and even over the spiky frill of my crest.

Next she chose the red pain for the lines that ran back from the corner of my mouth, where my jaws met, and slowly painted lines in red that flowed like blood from the edge of my mouth across my cheek, and then swooped down my neck. Stripes that ran from behind my eyes where next, across the side of my head, near my ears and the crests behind them. Then between my eyes as well, like a single stripe running across them and around the sides of my head. Blue on one side, red on the other, meeting in the middle. Those lines were mimicked down my snout, alternating bands of red and blue crossing the dark blue stripe that ran up the center of my muzzle. When my face was painted, she moved onto my horns. Swirling lines of paint running to their very tips, one horn done in red, the other in blue.

"These patterns once had a meaning," I said when she leaned back to examine her work. "Though it's long been lost with our people's fading from history."

"That's a shame," Kylah said, and I knew she meant it. "It almost looks like a shield pattern on your face, or a net or something. Perhaps it was meant to offer you extra protection from the sort of thing your scales can't guard you against."

"Something like that," I said, trying to cross my eyes to peer along my own snout.

I wanted to see how I looked! I cursed myself for not bringing a looking glass or some way to see myself. Perhaps there would be enough moonlight on the stream for me to see my reflection. I started to rise and Kylah gently put a hand across my paw, chiding me like a patient mother to an overeager hatchling.

"Let it dry, Vraal. If you move around now it's going to get smeared." I sighed, and settled back down, and she patted my paw. "Let me do these now."

Kylah twisted the book around to peer down at the painting of the dragon depicted there to see how the paws were painted. She pushed my bracelets up, as I hadn't yet taken them off since before we'd left my home. Once they were out of the way, she had me lift my front legs a little, one at a time, so that she could paint a band around my wrists. When the band was painted all the way around my wrist I had to hold that leg up a little to let it dry. She painted a red band around one wrist, and a blue band around the other. Once the paint was dry enough for me to set my first front leg back down, she painted the band around the other. And as I held it up, she returned to my first front paw. Painting lines in blue that ran from the red band across the back of my paw, and down to the very tip of each digit connected to it. Then she did the same on the other paw, in the opposite colors.

When she was done. Kylah forbade me from moving for a while as the paint dried. She took my helmet and set it in front of herself, next to my head so that she could trace similar lines across it. Though my enemies would not be able to see the paint on my face and muzzle beneath my helmet, Kylah and I knew it was there, and that was what mattered. Besides, they would see the paint across my horns, and they would the patterns on my helmet. Though, with any luck they'd be too busy pissing themselves at the sight of a charging dragon to take much notice of the way he decorated his horns and helmet.

Only when the paint was completely dry did Kylah let me rise and go examine myself. By that time though the sun had not yet risen, the western horizon was just beginning to lighten from the black color of my people's likely future to the dirty, dark purple of our bruised and battered pride. It provided just enough light for me to make out my reflection, and I was a little surprised to find the effect so stunning. The crisscrossing red and blue lines painted across my black scales made me look like some sort of wild, barbarian beast of war.

I liked it. A lot.

When I returned to Kylah, she had just finished up my helmet, and was blowing on it to help the paint dry. While she dried the paint, I worked to get everything packed up. Painting me and my helmet had taken longer then I'd expected, but I think she was as pleased with the results as I was. When she came to buckle our packs and things back around me, she kept glancing up at my face with a very pleased grin on her face.

"Vraal, I think you went from looking like a big scary dragon, to a big scary insane dragon."

I blinked, and for a moment my grin faded. That wasn't exactly the sort of look I was going for. Or was it? I supposed to a human the only thing more frightening then a blood crazed dragon was a blood crazed dragon who'd completely lost his mind. "I'm not far from it, I should think."

Kylah smirked and patted my shoulder as she cinched the last of the straps around my body. "Perhaps. Are you..."

"Yes. We should go before it gets too light."

Kylah simply nodded, and hauled herself up onto my back. I didn't even have to lay down any more, she was getting better and better at mounting me. I smirked, perhaps I still had a childish streak in my old age because that phrase always made me grin like a hatchling hearing a dirty joke. I picked up my painted helmet and carefully laid it across my head, not wanting to smear the pain on either my scales or the steel.

I took to the air, and with Kylah hunkered down against my back, I flew as swiftly and as low as I dared. Even as the pre-dawn light swept glowing brushes across the world painting it in brighter and brighter strokes, I was still little more then an indefinable shadow swooping just above the treetops on the horizon. I glided as much as I could to avoid giving the sentries too good a look at my wings, or attracting their eyes with movement. When I did have to beat my wings it was a swift, precise motion to too, the maximum lift from the least amount of motion, and then I was right back to gliding. I flew so low the trees were blowing about beneath me, and the tallest of them just touched my belly now and then.

Only when I was getting close enough to the town to be able to see the guards in the towers did I drop down into the trees. There wasn't really a clearing to land in, but I managed to drop down between a couple of elder oak trees with trunks nearly as big around as I was, and settle myself to the ground beneath their multi-pointed, vaguely paw shaped leaves now turning red. From here we would slip forward through the trees until we were in position to attack the town.

Kylah slid down off my back to make it easier for the two of us to walk forward through the trees. I had her take off all my gear, and leave it behind. If we were successful we'd come back for everything else later. And if we failed...well, we'd hardly need it again. Once all the packs and everything were stashed beneath the trees, I took a moment to evaluate myself and make sure I had everything I wanted to bring. I had my necklace given to me by Niara and her family. I had my mighty warrior's bracelets, I had my helmet, and my war paint. I had...

Oh! My family's picture. I quickly dug through my pack, and took out the small cloth painting of my former mate, and my two children. I looked it over, fixed the image in my mind. I ran my paws across the fading paint, and I decided I wanted it with me in battle. I took my helmet off, pleased that both the paint across it and my face was still intact. Kylah held the helmet a moment while I lay the small painted section of cloth out against my snout. I had no where else to keep it on me save under my helmet, but I knew it would be safe there. I suspected the helmet would not come off again until I was either victorious or dead. When the painting was in place, Kylah gently placed my helmet back atop my head for me.

Kylah made sure she had everything as well. Her chain mail, her longbow and arrows, her crossbow and bolts, and an assortment of smaller knives she'd raided from my collection. I would have preferred to see her in a helmet as well but I did not have one that fit her properly in my home. And she decided against bringing the shield, given that she might be slinging a lot of arrows anyway. She knew more about the type of combat she preferred then I did, and I did not argue with her choices.

When we were both sure we were as prepared as possible, we slipped forward through the trees. Songbirds chirped in the distance but fell silent as I drew near to them. Such was the way with birds, always silent when there was a big predator about. I supposed I was probably the biggest predator they'd ever seen. But there were plenty of other bird calls in the distance, more then enough to mask the sudden lack of them in our area. It was a cool morning, and the insects were quiet if not already hidden away for the winter.

I felt strangely calm as I crept forward between the trees. It was a beautiful forest, even as the throes of autumn were slowly taking it over. Despite the numerous large trees recently felled by the men occupying her town, the forest itself was still thick, and lush. Ancient oak trees dotted the woods, some of them with massive trunks as big around as my rib cage. I paused to admire one such tree. It's immense trunk eventually split into multiple smaller trunks and they in turn erupted into limbs sprouting in every direction, the thick, coarse bark near the bottom of the tree gradually growing finer and finer towards the top like the rough scales that protected my vital organs getting smaller and softer towards my chin. Green mosses gradually crept up the lower portions of the trunk, some with tiny red bulbs atop thin tendrils stretching from the green carpet as though reaching for the sun that never quite made it through the thick canopy above them. Higher up the trunk patches of oddly shaped white and yellow lichen dappled the bark.

All around the tree, ferns waved back and forth in a faint breeze I'd not even noticed. Their center fronds curled in on themselves as though protecting some long hidden secret, while the outer larger fronds spread out around the plant, veiling the earth in green fingers and shadows. Acorns crushed beneath my paws as I stepped over the fern, not wanting to accidentally trample the delicate fronds. Brush and vines crowded in patches of sunlight, a rare commodity this deep in the forest. Bulbous mushrooms and flat fungus crowded in the dark, damp recesses beneath a falling log that was slowly caving in year by year.

"Vraal?" Kylah whispered, her voice a hiss not of anger but to draw my attention.

I snapped out of my reverie, and gave a little sigh. "I love this forest," I whispered back. It was different in many ways from the pine and fir forests I was usually relegated too. I could live in this forest, and be very happy, if only it were not so close to humanity.

"You can visit the forest all you want, when we free my town."

I smiled. I liked the sound of that. A dragon visitor among humans. A welcome visitor. If only it would be so easy. Or would it? Now was not the time to dwell on such things. First, I had a task to accomplish. I had people to kill. Somehow, the forest had calmed my thundering heart, slowed my labored breathing, and now I was prepared for what I must do. For the men I must kill.

We reached the edge of the forest, and I stood next to the road, near the town. Just up ahead, a single soldier stood guard outside the wooden gate. I watched him for a moment, his breath made steaming clouds in the air as did mine. He had no idea. I pitied him for a moment, but only a moment.

He was going to be first.