Chapter 40

A roar rang out shaking Amy’s heart. Amy could not display her adept magical prowess. She had been told in the beginning, in the process of the first invasion, landing, staging their ground formations, she could not stand out. She could have easily encased Glyn in an unbreakable magic shield, but by showing a power above average she would attract focus; thus, Amy was pouring all her might into the magic shield around Glyn to cover just the gaps in her golden colored armor; and even though outwardly it seemed ordinary, there was nothing here that could break her shield. Despite the turbulence, despite the uneven footing with her tablet circling around her she knelt down and patted Glyn’s neck.

“Aye, we’ll survive!”, Glyn responded with a cheerful response hiding her anxiety.

This was war; it was a first time for both rider and ride. Another roar filled the pitch-black skies, without a star, without a moon, just a large but dim red sun, only enough light to see. It was Toshiharu’s signal. Veterans of a dungeon break a generation ago Liam, Toshiharu, Julius, and Camila; as such they were commanders for this extraction, this invasion. Although, it was mutually understood that this last ‘war’, if it could be even called that, was like a stroll through a lush meadow or so Liam had commented. Indeed, this incursion was on foreign soil, not on their own land, in their own fields.

The roar: a signal to assemble, a calling of a formation sounded out again. Suddenly Glyn rolled, a red explosion of sinister character grew violently in the space that they had just occupied. As the force of gravity pushed her weight to her feet Amy looked above to hear a scream as the dragon that flew into the space they just were, was hit. The rider tossed off from the force of the concussion. Glyn leveled, steadied herself, as Amy’s arms weightlessly floated in front of her, then weight returned as her new eternal sister completed the maneuver. Glyn began to climb, all the dragons rose in the sky beckoning to Toshiharu’s call; higher, higher, higher, they climbed: it was time to commence, the opening of the gates of retribution drew nigh. The crowded sky soon took order as they formed a swarm, a swirling mass of armor, scales, fangs, claws, and magical shields. Three times Toshiharu’s voice broke the still air.

Julius’ voice could be heard through their channel of communications, in an angered raised voice he yelled, “Rider corps five, six, seven, eight clear a landing!! Secure our perch!! Corps one, two, three, and four, get that cover up!!!”.

Amy was calm, despite the chaos, despite the rippling, shifting patterns of vampires below, she was calm. The shy timid existence that was her two months ago, was no longer to be found; she had faced perilous trials before, and she had overcome them; although, vestiges of her former self still remained, she exuded confidence: it was a survivor’s confidence. ‘A battle with dragons, vampires, and magic, oh my what would mother say?’, she pondered. She could do this! The few dragons that had been hit were healed diligently by their riders, and had returned to their formation. Amy could see how effective this method was, as dragons could not use magic, when they were in their true form. The next phase was starting. A massive light blue transparent energy spread out below them. Boom! Boom! The anti-air magic fired from below could not penetrate their barrier. The explosions were dull, growing faint as they no longer erupted around them.

Amy had no time to marvel at such an awe-inspiring sight, magic power flowed into her fingers, knuckles turning white from her grip; she held her wand out, in the howling wind she roared in chorus with her corps, “Do Re Ra Shi!”.

Amy could feel her mana moving through her vessels, moving in her blood gathering to her fingers. At the tip of her wand, a conflagration emerged, as Amy leaned over to her right, it began spilling out and down falling through the shifting ranks of the squadrons flying below. She was in the third level in the seventh corps, and still the flight patterns were so precise that not a dragon was hit with their comrade’s magic. Indeed, this was not a medieval band of mages and warriors fighting haphazardly, no this was the full force of a sophisticated society built upon magical technologies. Amy ventured a look above. The Ddyllewech forces clung to the sky like a violent storm cloud, expelling fiery rain down below, as the enemies burned in their shadow. The orchestra of startling screams wafted up even to their great heights. The red earth below became burnt black as a sea of fire erupted. Fire stream was the spell they used, it resembled what she imagined napalm to be. Amy could feel the warmth from the flame licking up at the sky. The smell of burning rotted flesh assaulted her nostrils. Plumes of smoke rose as the inferno raged.

A clear female voice pierced the commotion; a dragon’s voice could cross many miles; Camila overpowered the clamor of an active frenzied battlefield, the roar of the blaze below, “Cavalry troop commence bombing runs take out their blood mages!”.

Streams of dragons spewed down from the hurricane like formation, diving down, down, down. Of all the clans, none could match the speed of a Ddyllewech dragon. The calvary troop, the elite: trained dragons that routinely flew reconnaissance for the raid council, accustomed to being fired upon, dove avoiding the barrage of perilous blood magic rushing up to greet them with skill and precision. Their riders let out fireballs that raced into the vampire’s ranks; then disappeared above; their speed to quick for the black horde to retaliate effectively. The blood magic the vampires were spewing, manifested with their foul tongue, was like cries falling on deaf ears, as not a single member was hit, while they laid waste to the hordes below.

Amy shivered, a sinister presence that stifled the air, plucking the breath from one’s lung like pulling fruit from a tree. The Great White Duke was looking here. As Glyn began to struggle to remain aloft due to this malignant pressure, Amy instinctively forced her presence. Ceasing from firing her magic she flooded the air space with her mana, with her being. The feeling ceased, and Glyn let out a nervous shaken sigh of relief. Amy looked in the distance to see a black large castle perched upon a vaulted large lone rock protruding eerily from The Lake of Calybria: it was his castle, his seat. A shrill cry could be heard, black shapes began to spew forth from the gigantic structure. Vampires took to the skies, twisted, corrupted, forms of elves whose thirst for blood erased their reason. It was an air assault. They had been sent to engage with the calvary troop. A great black cloud lifted from the castle as the swarm drew closer.

“I’m going!”, Liam said through their communication channel.

Amy could barely see Liam obscured by the massive scale of William’s draconic body. Bright flashes of lightning shot forth, with a delayed, subsequent roar of thunder. Black figures fell away like fleas shed from a dog’s body, as the electrically heated plasma licked the enemy formation. Even though it was an original spell of Amy’s, as expected of her teacher to use it at such range, with such control, such power.

This was not like the battles she had seen portrayed in the movies two sides rushing towards each other. Even Amy with her lacking experience now knew that was utter foolishness. There were stages, reaction to every action. The situation was fluid, changing, evolving, transforming. The operation, the execution of the Ddyllewech dragon’s offensive was smooth, refined, sophisticated. Their entire society: wings, families, clans, was engineered organized for such an event. It was their response to a hostile abode. Still the depth and scope of the enemy was unknown. Uncertainty also persisted for their foe also, according to the information gathered from the two Il dragons it had been thousands of years since the black horde residing here had faced an organized force. Toshiharu roared two times signaling to start landing operations. Glyn turned sideways then launched downwards, the lowest squadrons five, six, and their squadron seven, rushed towards the ground; the magic bombardment had lessened due to the onslaught of the air calvary. Amy’s heart beat in unison with Glyn’s, Amy’s lips uttered a fiery howl along with her new comrades, the bottom three layers of their formation split and rushed towards the blackened terrain below to establish a forward operating base. Toshiharu roared four more times, and the remaining four squadrons readied to intercept the oncoming hive. A hive indeed, throughout what transpired so far, the enemy changed according to some unspoken will, unuttered commands: most likely the commander-in-chief of their forces the duke himself. Though this much was already public knowledge, but it was another concept entirely to see it unfold on such a grand scale.

Amy’s thought process was interrupted as she reflexively formed a shield in front. The air shook, Glyn swayed from the force underneath her feet. Red blood magic that possessed a putrid minerally odor filled her senses, red glowing particles that looked like hot molten plasma splashed on either side, and the oxygen in the air combusted from the heat of the collision. But her shield was steady, her resolve was strong.

“Heh, heh, nice try”, Glyn tried to laugh; although it came off as awkward, laden with agitated nerves.

This was a first time for Glyn as well, even in the eighty-three years she had been alive.

They neared the wasted rock and soil, smoldering traces of what once was a living creature only remained as piles of ash. Yet surprisingly a great number had survived. In unison the dragons changed their attitude, skimming near the ground. Thousands of them began strafing runs clearing the landing zone. Everywhere she looked smoke and black ash filled the air, it was like they were on the floor of hell itself. To her left to her right, she could see smoldering remains. Beneath her she felt Glyn’s neck expand, her muscles rippling underneath, the scales tickling her toes. Glyn screamed, a shrill high pitch yell. No, she wasn’t hit this was the dragon’s fire roar. The fabled dragon’s breath portrayed in almost every iteration of a dragon in the public human conscious. Piercing screams, like the whining of rockets crowded the sky. Amy’s feet were hot. Sweated trickled down the nape of her neck soaking into her robes from the residual heat. A dissonant harmony of screams was heard every time Glyn spewed her fire, her wrath upon them as they shot forward.

Bumph! Bumph! the weight of Glyn’s landing could be felt all the way from Amy’s toes to her head, even her teeth seemed to tremble from the rough quick landing. Glyn roared, it was the sign for all forces to assemble on her, she was acting squad leader, commanding thousands of deadly dragons. A third of the main force assembled on the ground amongst the still burning smoking embers of the corpses piled up under their steps. They quickly formed a star formation, the most formidable and experienced dragons, those who had partaken in the war before, took positions at the tips of the stars as the breaking point of the hordes about to descend upon them. Like conductors of a horrible terrible orchestra, Glyn and Amy stood at the very center.

Amy gasped, her confidence diminished at the sight of vampires, ogres, and goblins emerged from the land, like sweat pouring from the pores of the earth. Glyn shivered, Amy flashed back to the vivid scenes of her nightmare, a shiver went down her spine. A roar came from over-head, William’s roar, his tail attached to his massive frame trailed in the sky like a train. Him and Liam flew forward, approaching, confronting the oncoming masse of ill will and malice.

With thunder and lightning he came flying overhead, lighting flicking out, arcing down upon the assaulting impending wave of bodies about to crash on their formation. Dust hung low in the sky, off in the distance. Though Liam had single handedly softened their charge, Amy could still hear the impact of the forces hitting the points of their star formation, clamors in the distance.

“I’m taking command”, Liam barked his usual carefree tone gone, a sharpness replacing it as William landed next to them with a swoosh of his wings, “Excellent job Amy, Glyn! Ten out of ten!”.

Amy watched as William rubbed his snout against Glyn’s to reassure her. The second wave of dragons hit the ground, landing, expanding the current formation. From her view she could see Glyn blink in comfort and relief as she sighed.

“Cough cough, Ahem. That fire is tough on the vocal cords”, Glyn spoke still nervous and shaking adrenaline coursing through her, “Maybe Liam can pet me, it would make me feel better”.

“Not now, I will congratulate you later”, Liam responded.

“Amy, Glyn, form a division, tend to the wounded”, Liam ordered overlooking her advances which would have usually garnered a rebuke from William.

“Yes”, Glyn said with a happy joyful voice.

Glyn cried in a loud voice dripping with enthusiasm, “Healers on me!”.

As they set out Glyn began to hum to herself in a satisfied manner. Perhaps Liam nor William could bring themselves to scold like they normally would. Amy was coughing from the smoke drifting through the battlefield, mixed with smell of blood, it was a stench Amy would never forget. As cries of agony and pain arose from the writhing wounded forms on the ground, Amy could clearly understand why they were more lenient now. Their first patient, A female dragon with part of her left wing missing, was howling in pain. It was unsettling, shocking for Amy.

“Awwww, it hurts it hurts!”, she screamed her giant body squirming, her expression taught, tightening from the pain.

Stepping up to her Glyn lowered her snout nuzzling the forehead of the dragon, “It’s okay, Amy, you know Amy, right? She is here, she’ll patch you up”.

Glyn deposited Amy deftly with her tail as Amy ran towards the dragon with all her might.

Placing her hand on the poor creature’s belly Amy began as she travelled towards the mangled remnants of a wing. Amy could feel the muscles relax under touch.

“Where is your rider?”, Glyn asked.

“He…He…”

Amy looked forward in the ashes she could see him. With her snout she nudged the still form sprawled on the ground unmoving.

“He…he saved me… I was careless… we were supposed to celebrate our fifteenth anniversary together…We were going to Venice to celebrate”, the dragon spoke in a daze.

Amy rushed over as fast as her feet could carry her, she slid down.

“Hughh”, once again Amy gasped as she looked at his lifeless eyes, a handsome man.

She turned back to Glyn and with tears streaming down her face, Amy shook her head.

“Wahhhh!!!”, the dragon let out a heartbreaking cry and began sobbing, her heaving shaking the blackened ground beneath Amy’s feet.

Even her experience could not prepare Amy for this; this was the first casualty; this was not a raid, this was war. Silently Amy got up after closing his eyes carefully. She looked in the direction of the castle with a murderous look. She clenched her wand and began her work diligently; she would not lose another patient. This was war with all its brutality and cold indifference brought to bear.