18th day of the season of the sun 2448

Two bright eyes pierced the darkness of the night. Tyrath's scales reflected the moon's glow. He gave one last powerful wingstroke and landed on the balcony in a tremor.

- Tyrath! Azena exclaimed.

She approached the dragon, wobbling. Her balance had been greatly disturbed by the alcohol. To her surprise, the dragon pushed her gently to her right and roared with such ferocity that Zamir took a few steps back. He growled, his tail whipping the air. His violet eyes shone with contempt.

- Back or I'll devour you, you rascal.

He turned his attention to Azena.

- You call this thing royalty? Even human would be generous in his case.

He stared at the prince with raging eyes and roared again. This time, a powerful gust of air shook the place. Azena stared at her companion in confusion.

- What's the matter with you?

Zamir dropped his wine bottle and leaned against the castle wall, paralyzed with fear.

- What's he saying? It's that... h-his accent...

Tyrath sniffed, unimpressed by the prince. He ignored Azenah's question and probed Zamir with interest. After a few moments, he looked up and smiled viciously.

- He's under stress. I can feel his heart beating all the way in my gut.

Azena exploded in rage.

- Are you going to tell me what's going on? she bellowed. It's not funny if it's a joke.

With clenched fists, she waited for an answer as she looked at Tyrath. The drake bared its teeth.

- See for yourself! Look at the castle walls! Look at your city!

Azena obeyed. What she saw tore her soul apart. Smoke from all over the city rose to the sky. Now that she was concentrating on it, she heard the frantic cries of the people. Her eyes wide open, she saw the soldiers of her adopted father fighting against Maroth's.

- It's the White Woodruff against the Red Wolf, Tyrath explained. The peacemaker against the traitor.

- The traitor? Azena asked, still oblivious to what was happening.

- Open your eyes, Azena! Realize what's happening around you!

Zamir tried to run away, but Tyrath jumped on him and stopped him in his tracks, knocking him down. He wiggled in the hope of escaping the predator, but gave up the fight when Tyrath growled, his fangs inches from his face. He cowered, hoping for mercy from the dragon.

- Traitor! Tyrath roared. You will not touch a single hair of my rider's head.

Zamir only managed to understand half of what the drake was telling him. However, the rage in the winged creature's voice made him nervous and he felt that remaining silent was the wise decision to make.

- Stop! Azena ordered. Perhaps he didn't know about this treachery. Does he look dangerous to you?

- You're weak, Tyrath replied. You're attached to that boy when he was about to bite you in the neck.

- How could you know that? You're too hard.

Tyrath's eyes widened. At first, Azena thought she could discern rage in her companion's expression, but she soon realized it was fear that was betraying him. Suddenly, he pushed Zamir against the wall as if to abandon him for something more important and ran towards her. As he neared, he blew a gust of wind in her direction. Azena was thrown backwards and hit something. A grunt and then a sound of metal hitting against stone was heard. Someone pushed her forward. The dragon rider turned around to see a man dressed in black climbing the ledge of the balcony.

- Move out of the way, Tyrath commanded.

Azena obeyed and the dragon rushed forward, grappled the man and in his frantic race, he went overboard. He tried to drag the murderer with him, but the man was fast and easily escaped his grasp. He reached Zamir and helped him to his feet.

- What's your problem now? he asked the prince. Why aren't you doing anything? You're a warrior who excels in his field.

Azena immediately noticed that the assassin addressed Zamir in a familiar tone, which meant they were probably close. Zamir didn't answer; he stared at his bride to be. His uncertain expression seemed afflicted by confusion.

- Excuse my rudeness, my prince, but the beast was not supposed to be here, the assassin continued in a poisonous voice. You wouldn't want to be eaten alive, would you? Your father wouldn't be happy with me and I want to keep my head. So get up and fight.

Zamir did not move. The assassin growled, clearly at the limit of his patience.

By this time, Tyrath had regained altitude. In a series of nimble maneuvers, he avoided several arrows fired from the ground by enemy soldiers and landed on the balcony again. He approached Azena and groaned. He was wounded, but still able to react well to the situation. He blew a gust of wind in the direction of the two Detmorians and turned around to tear off an arrow that had hit him in the tail.

- Zamir, said Azena, explain yourself.

Tyrath didn't wait for an answer; he charged at his enemies. Zamir rolled to one side, the assassin to the other, letting Tyrath hit the castle wall head first. The stunned dragon shook, nearly fell, and regained his balance as the assassin tried to stab his front paw. He narrowly avoided the attack and flew off beside his rider. He was getting tired. His breathing was heavy and his wounds, although they were not major, made him suffer and drained his energy.

- Defend yourself, he advised his companion. You don't have a choice. Remember what you learned during your duel against Serfantor and Shalith. Show no mercy.

Azena lowered her head and nodded.

- Zamir, I'm sorry, but I can't trust you.

She assumed a fighting position and Tyrath roared his victory. Repeatedly she created a ball of wind and threw it at the assassin or Zamir. Zamir shouted something incomprehensible during the fight and, in the end, fled into the castle. Taking advantage of Azena's distraction, the assassin sneaked to her right.

- He's a coward, he murmured. Don't you think so? He didn't even dare to attack you.

Azena, surprised by the man's subtlety, backed away and punched him in the face. He narrowly avoided the blow and grabbed her hand.

- You're too slow, dragon rider. Aren't you being taught the mores of war properly? Do not be gentle with your enemy, for he will not show you such kindness. Well, I'll kill you below this passion moon.

He raised his dagger and struck. In panic, Tyrath lost interest in Zamir and pounced on the assassin, claws out.

- Too late, dragon, laughed the assassin. Even if I die, my mission is complete.

Near the end of its course, the dagger suddenly slowed down. When its tip touched the skin of its target, it stopped. The assassin looked away at Azena's prowess. She had created a wind current to slow down the weapon and then grabbed the handle with her free hand.

- Damn you, aeromancer, he spat.

He turned his head towards Tyrath and terror deformed his face as he realized his end had come. Tyrath knocked his enemy to the ground and held him in place with his two powerful paws. His claws pierced through his leather armor and dangerously grazed his skin. He showed his teeth, and a drop of drool dripped on his forehead. The assassin groped desperately for his weapon. Tyrath whipped the dagger with his tail and it bounced off a wall in the distance. He looked sternly at Azena. Their eyes met and Azena understood what her companion wanted to tell her.

- You must do it, Tyrath said.

Azena knew she couldn't let the assassin keep his life; he'd come back. A lump formed in her throat. She replied in a broken voice:

- I know.

She retrieved the dagger and crouched down beside the assassin. She froze except for her trembling hands. Tyrath caressed her cheek with his snout. Like a mother humming a lullaby to his child, he purred. The sound calmed Azena and her hands immobilized. She aimed for the heart. The assassin struggled, and Tyrath pressed on his shoulders, which cracked under the weight. She closed her eyes, concentrated and then stabbed.

The assassin coughed up blood, his panting breath showed his pain, but it quickly subsided. His pierced heart stopped beating and his body went limp like a doll. Azena waited, her eyes closed.

After a moment, Tyrath took his paws off. Azena let go of the dagger and curled up. She cried, her face buried in her folded arms. Tyrath put one leg behind her back, pulled her towards him and wrapped a protective wing around her.

- It's going to be fine, he purred. It's all over now.

Azena burst into tears and huddled against the warm belly of her dragon. Tyrath tried to manage a hug with one paw.

- I don't want to be a villain, but this is not the last time you're going to have to take somebody's life.

Azena looked up at him with teary eyes.

- It's the duty of a dragon rider and his dragon, he said. Sometimes it is necessary to protect other lives.

Tyrath suddenly looked sad.

- Believe me, I know the feeling. You get used to it and learn to live with it.

- What happened? Sobbed Azena.

- That's a story for another time. Now we need to protect the people of Nothar.

Azena looked up. Her face was dominated by surprise.

- Turion!

Tyrath's features became more pronounced.

- He's gone, she continued. I'd forgotten all about it.

Tyrath sniffed.

- No wonder with all that wine, he chuckled.

Azena tried to get over the shock of the emotions and appear jovial.

- Hey, that was good wine.

- Mm, I'm sure it was.

Tyrath perched on the ledge of the balcony.

- Let's get to the skies. We must get Turion back and help your father's soldiers.

The coolness of the night was gnawing at Azena's skin. She nimbly mounted Tyrath and looked on the scene below. The soldiers of the two kingdoms clashed fiercely. Blood was running down the streets.

- They were our guests of honor and they betrayed our trust, she thought.

She tightened her grip on the spikes she was holding so she wouldn't fall off.

- I need a saddle and a weapon. Shit.

Detmor was stronger than Nothar, but she knew that her and Tyrath could make all the difference, especially if Buhrik and Fayne joined the fight. Unfortunately, there was no sign of them.

- Have you seen Buhrik recently?

Tyrath shook his head. He growled in frustration. He took off towards downtown.

- He was out hunting fish when I smelled the fire, which means he's far away and probably won't be back for a while. We won't be able to rely on him.

- Fayne is far from being a warrior, said Azena. I wonder if she is safe.

- Don't worry. She has great control over waterl. It's a very practical form of defense.

In the heart of the battle, Azena saw her older sister who had just saved the life of a soldier by slitting the throat of an enemy with a single swipe of her sword. Blood was splashed on her white silk dress and her victim fell.

- She knows how to defend herself, Azena thought to herself. She will survive. No wolf will bring down this woodruff. Just because the flower symbolizes sweet humility doesn't mean we're incompetent in battle. Ah, far from it, especially when it comes to Argent. She'll spill the blood of those kids in red and black armor.

Tyrath growled and dove to the ground.

- What's wrong? Azena asked, clinging firmly to a spike.

- The little coward ran away to Daddy, Tyrath laughed in a mocking tone.

Azena said nothing. She looked at Zamir with a mixture of disappointment and sadness. A little further away, the king was busy shouting orders, surrounded by his elite guard. Nothar's troops were working at reaching him. The inhabitants were hiding in their houses while the homeless and beggars were hurrying out of the city.

- Let's get him back before he reaches the king, Tyrath continued.

Azena wasn't thrilled with the decision, but she had to put her personal feelings aside and be tough. Tyrath roared as he approached his target. Zamir looked back. His eyes widened and he redoubled his efforts. They were in vain. The gray dragon was far too fast. He grabbed the prince's coat and pants and lifted him into the air. Zamir screamed in terror. His father heard him and looked up. He ordered his archers to aim for Tyrath. At first they hesitated, for they were busy driving back the defending troops from Nothar, but the king insisted. A volley of arrows fell on Tyrath, but none of them hit him. The king became frustrated and ordered the archers to take care of the soldiers of Nothar. He turned around and sneaked into the ranks of his army.

Tyrath rose and continued to advance.

- So where is the quill? Answer me if you don't want to experience death trapped in the eye of a tornado.

- B-b-but... I don't know! Zamir yelped. What are you guys talking about?

- Speak! roared Tyrath, already at the end of his patience. Stop wasting my time.

He opened his mouth, and inside, a swirling wind was amplifying in power.

- I don't know, Zamir shouted, terrorized by the drake.

A shadow passed by them. Tyrath's gaze followed it. He breathed towards it, but missed his target. He saw a black dragon mounted by a man in a dark cloak. His eyes widened.

- The same dragon rider as last year, Azena said. What is he doing here?

- Probably some harm, Tyrath replied.

Zamir glanced hopefully at the dark dragon rider, but he continued on his way without paying the slightest attention to him.

- He must have the quill, Azena said.

Tyrath rushed towards the newcomer, dragging Zamir with him by force.

- Let me go then, the prince begged.

- When we get the quill in our paws," Tyrath said, accelerating.

The strong wind left Zamir no other choice but to put his hands over his ears and close his eyes. A familiar cry caught Azena's attention. She looked down at the crazed crowd and saw her mother being held by Kiatrane. In panic, she pulled one of the spikes on Tyrath's skull, but the drake resisted.

- No, we have to recover the quill, he said..

Azena pulled the spike again and this time his companion slowed down considerably.

- No, I have to save my mother. Anyway, we don't even know if he's the thief.

The black dragon was now too far away to be caught. Tyrath roared in frustration, shook his head and turned around.

- I hope you know what you're doing.

He folded his wings and dove to the ground. As he descended, he heard a high-pitched scream and then a wave of pain passed through his right eye. He struggled to make his way through the wind. As he came dangerously close to Kiatrane, he signaled Azena to jump.

- Go!

Azena did so. She landed beside the Detmorian and assumed a defensive position.

- Let her go, she ordered with a poisonous tone.

- You're a real future queen, Kiatrane replied with a smirk.

A growl drew her attention to the sky. Tyrath was desperately trying to get rid of a bird the size of an eagle and with a red plumage that pecked at him without remorse. Azena turned pale, enraged. She jumped backwards and grabbed a dagger hidden under her leather belt.

- Azena, Rivatha said. No. Don't play the heroine.

Kiatrane shook her to silence her, interested in her daughter.

- Come, dragon rider girl. Let's see if a daughter's love will overcome my power.

Azena gritted her teeth and rushed forward with a war cry. Kiatrane grabbed her with her free hand by the wrist and with unexpected force, she shifted to the right and Azena was redirected with her like a rag doll. In an instant, she pushed her to the ground and pressed her face with her boot. Panic overcame Azena. She didn't expect such a performance from Kiatrane. She looked at her with her inquisitive eyes.

- Shut your mouth! ordered Kiatrane.

Azena realized she was looking at Kiatrane with her mouth open, shocked. She obeyed, not out of oppression, but for herself.

- In the end, you're just a little girl, Kiatrane continued. A weakling who dares to call herself a dragon rider. Pathetic. Father says we should kill you. In my opinion, you'd make an excellent target shot for the archers or, even better, a guinea pig for our torture machines. We have to find a use for you. You could train a novice executioner. What a fine gift for a young man full of ambitions.

Rivatha took a step towards them. Kiatrane glared at her. A shiver ran through the queen and she froze.

A tremor shook them. Beside them, Tyrath lay on his back. He groaned impatiently. The bird landed on his belly and gave a piercing cry. His victim's breathing was difficult; he was exhausted, but he found the strength to slash at the bird, which avoided him in a flash of red light and perched on the roof of a small house.

- I should kill you, said Kiatrane, but I'll let you live.

Azena looked at her, puzzled.

- Why, you ask? Continued the young woman with a mohawk. It's an answer I can't give you, but in exchange for this generous gift, protect your life preciously.

Kiatrane motioned for the strange bird to follow her, and the two disappeared off in the direction of Detmor's army.

Azena did not dare to rise until Kiatrane was out of sight. She made sure her mother wasn't hurt then, Tyrath. His scales had protected him from most attacks, but his eye had been scratched from top to bottom.

- Are you all right? she asked.

Tyrath growled weakly and stood up.

- My eye will heal. I can still see. We have more urgent things to take care of. Your mother is safe. Now we must find Turion.

Azena turned to Rivatha and with the authority of a lord, she spoke:

- Return to the castle.

Her mother's eyes widened.

- You are no warrior. What are you going to do now? It is too dangerous.

Tyrath stared her with comforting eyes until she relaxed and nodded.

- All right. I'll go. I'll leave her in your hands, dragon.

- I'll protect her with my life, the drake promised, lowering his head so they'd be at the same level. I give you my word.

The queen's eyes filled with tears. One rolled down her cheek.

- You do me honor, majestic creature, she confessed in a voice broken by grief.

She hurried to the casle.