Fraylon managed to find an air current just in time, right before he was about crash headlong into a bristle of pikes aimed to catch him when  he fell. With an exultant roar, he zoomed upwards, his tail flipping in a rude gesture. On his back, Daemon did not breathe a sigh of relief yet. His eyes were on where the giant rocks had come hurtling from. “What was that?” he asked himself. Gain altitude to get out of range, Daemon told Fraylon, Then we need to figure out what’s happening.

            Fraylon agreed mentally as he gained height. That had been a close call… too close. He felt a little sick, to be honest. All this blowing up stuff was making him jittery. Where’s Ryan? He thought as he rose above the misty clouds. He was supposed to…

            Drop down, Daemon snapped suddenly. His voice held so much raw anxiety that Fraylon didn’t hesitate.  Pulling his wings in, he dove like a silver comet. Immediately he felt Daemon’s presence in his mind as the Rider looked through his eyes. He raked over the battlefield with a glance before coming to a stop at a flurry of activity directly below. A flash of a conifer green head striking, then throwing a man across the field as if he were a toy. Thistle! Daemon withdrew from Fraylon’s mind with a mixture of emotions. They weren’t supposed to get into close combat! But if Ryan was in trouble, they had to get him out of there.

            As he lowered himself in the saddle to make their unified form more aerodynamic, he couldn’t help but notice another little flurry of motion. What the- he thought. A fat little Pegasus  was careening towards them, her little wings buzzing like a ginormous bumble bee! Even as he grabbed a small bomb from the pack, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. This was the way Lauri told them that reinforcements were coming?

            Be ready, Fraylon warned before he slowed his descent with a deft stroke of his frosty wings. The soldiers attacking Thistle looked up just as Fraylon landed amidst them, ice spikes shooting from his open jaws to crash against their armor or impale their necks. Propelled by the momentum of the landing, Fraylon charged on and Daemon brought out his lance, suddenly glad for the lessons he had with Lauri. He struck three down in quick succession, his other hand with the sword slashing at anyone who was close enough. Fraylon bit the neck of an attacker as the attempted to make a strike on Thistle’s wing. Blood rushed into his mouth and he fought the urge to puke. Quickly snapping the man’s neck, he unlatched his jaws and jumped on the next, his head lowered like a bull’s. There was a sickening bang as his forehead met a man’s armored body and he blinked but didn’t back down.

            Just a few feet away Thistle was spitting acid at everything in sight and Ryan had his dart blower out and he was shooting neurotoxic darts at anyone who dared come close. Immune to all types of poison, it didn’t even bother Thistle if he missed and nailed one of his wings. There was a circle of destruction around them, of men’s armor and skin melting off their flesh and soldiers falling where they fought, impaled upon their own swords with a small dart sticking out of their necks. But as soon as they fell ten men rose up to take their place and Daemon knew for sure if they stayed here, they would be trapped.

            “We got to get out of here!” Daemon yelled as he slit a man’s neck.  “This is the death pit!”

            “Can’t you see we’re trying?” Ryan gasped out before he blew another dart, which hit a burly guy on the shoulder. Suddenly he caught sight of something… a face in the crowd of oncoming soldiers that his mind immediately registered. “Wait!” he screamed. “My dad! My dad’s in there!” his voice was ragged. “Thistle, come on, we have to save him!”

            “Ryan! Ryan!” The man called out when he noticed Ryan had seen him. “Ryan, my boy!”

            “Dad!” Ryan cried, spurring Thistle on. He leaned over his dragon’s side, extending his hand for his father to grab so that he could swing him on. His father smiled and extended his own hand, his sword dropping to the ground.

            Thistle plowed everyone else out of the way before coming to a halt by Ryan’s father. “Dad, come with us,” Ryan said, his hand outstretched. “We’ll keep you safe..”

            Ryan’s father opened his mouth but suddenly his eyes grew large and he let out a sound that sounded like a gargle. Slowly he looked down and Ryan’s heart felt like it exploded when he saw a jagged blade sticking through his chest. “Dad!” he screamed, looking up to find Daemon holding the other end of the lance. “Daemon! How could you do that? He’s my father!” Ryan screamed, barely able to speak through the lump of cold emotion in his throat.

            “It’s not your father!” Daemon snapped, pushing on the lance to impale him further.

            Ryan slid off his mount, his sobs heaving from his lungs. He knelt by his father, desperately trying to find a way to help.

            “Ryan,” he said weakly, reaching out his hand. Ryan took it.

            The man’s hand tightened on his hand and Ryan cried out as he felt as if his bones were going to break. With a jerk, he was yanked to his knees just as his ‘father’s’ hands turned into talons, ready to impale him through the chest!

            Just as quickly Daemon heaved his lance backwards and the blade twisted, catching its ribs and pulling it back with it. With a snarl, the Felinus let go of Ryan, scrabbling at the lance poking through its chest. Fraylon backpedaled, dragging it across the ground. Ryan gaped as it began to chance quickly, fur sprouting all over its body and its biceps and chest bulging out of the clothes. A tail emerged, flicking wildly in pain. Soon the rest of the body followed until it was larger than Fraylon, its teeth as long as Ryan’s arm! Twisting around, it screeched in agony as it wrenched the lance from Daemon’s hands. Daemon’s face was a mask of shock as slowly but surely, the cat started pulling the lance out, gut-wrenching sucking noises accompanying it.

            GET ON MY BACK, Thistle roared.

            Suddenly Ryan realized that he had been there, just staring as Thistle had been fighting off the attackers. Now the noises, horrible sounds of the battlefield flooded his ears and mind and he felt… terrified. I’m coming! Ryan replied, jumping on the saddle in a practiced movement. “Get the heck out of here!”

            At that same time the cat had finished pulling the lance out of its jet black chest and it gave a deep, hair-raising chuckle. Ryan felt pure terror inject into his veins. They weren’t going to lift off fast enough! “GO THISTLE!” he screamed, just wanting to close his eyes and curl up on the saddle. Instead, he forced his shaky hands to get out his dart blower and he slipped three darts inside before shooting them at the Felinus, each one losing itself in its shaggy fur.

            “Uh, it doesn’t seem to be having any effect,” Thistle said nervously as he pounced over a few soldiers before his powerful haunches bunched and he launched off the ground.

            The cat followed, building up speed as it ran on all fours. It seemed to fade into the recesses, it’s movements hardly recognizable to the human eye. Fraylon took off vertically behind it, his body temperature lowering as his spit became deadly icicles.

            Pthah! The first icicle ricocheted off a dead man’s breastplate, missing the cat by inches. Fraylon gained height, trying to control his breathing. Daemon’s mind was linked to his own, guiding his movements and preventing him from freaking out. Pthah! Another missile was projected from his mouth, this time hitting the cat on the shoulder. It’s hide shuttered in a wave of jet black, but it didn’t slow down. Now it was only yards away from Thistle and Ryan, who weren’t gaining height fast enough.

            It seemed to happen in slow motion. The cat bunched itself up like a spring before shooting forwards, its arms outstretched and claws unsheathed. All Ryan could see were those chilling pitch eyes and that huge, gaping mouth, open to clamp itself on Thistle’s wing. In that second, Ryan had no clue what to do. He felt like he was losing himself in those black eyes. I deserve to  die, he realized. I deserve to die, he didn’t realize he was leaning over in the saddle towards it, his feet slipping out of the stirrups. I deserve to..

            Suddenly a clawed tail snapped across his vision and the cat shrieked as its face was torn open by the talons. Ryan get a hold of yourself! Thistle said, his mental voice full of alarm. The cat wasn’t done yet. Its scrabbling claws got a hold of the flashing tail and it dug its nails in before biting him, hard.

            Thistle bellowed in pain, suddenly dipping in the sky from the extra weight. His wings tore at the sky, his tail flicking weakly like a dying snake. “Ryan!” he yelled, in his mind and out loud.

            The cat laughed, a sound that made Ryan’s whole body shiver. It started climbing up Thistle’s tail, each move tearing into the dragon’s scales and causing red hot blood to leak out. Ryan gulped. He knew that this was what he had been preparing for all this time. It was his responsibility as Rider to protect his dragon… he just never thought it would ever happen! Gritting his teeth as he felt a reflection of his dragons pain, he pulled out his hunting knives, each curved maliciously, and turned around in the saddle.

            “Little Rider,” the creature purred, climbing higher. “Do you want to kill me?”

            “I don’t just want to. I will,” Ryan snapped, slashing at the creature’s head with his knife.

            The creature’s paw sprung out of nowhere, smacking the knife out of his hands. Ryan let out a soft moan as his hand stung, but he had the cat right where he wanted. Before he could latch back on, Ryan stabbed his other paw, slicing it open. The cat roared, and in response, Ryan swung his boot sideways, cracking it right in the jaw.

            I can’t keep this up much longer! Thistle cried, his lungs burning. His wings were pumping more furiously now, but he was losing the battle.

            The cat laughed harder, but this time it sounded more strangled, but somehow even more terrifying. It sank its fangs into Thistle’s tail. Ryan bit back a scream as he too felt the pain. He only had one more chance… if he failed then the cat would surely kill him. He hefted his last knife, aiming. Then he let it fly.

            Ryan caught sight of the handle protruding from its eye socket before a silver blur smashed into it, tearing it off Thistle’s tail. But Fraylon was too late. The cat fell limply into the sea of soldiers, it’s body impaled on the upraised pikes like a pig on a stick. The soldiers underneath were easily crushed, not a sound escaped from the heap.

            Ryan let out a sigh, which sounded more like a sob before settling himself into the saddle. “Thistle, I can’t take on another one of those,” he admitted before Fraylon rose up to meet them.

            “Ryan!” Daemon called as the dragons flew side-by-side, their wing beats synchronized. “You go ahead and get some rest and heal your dragon. Reinforcements are here and I’ll cover for you.” Ryan nodded. Daemon looked at him grimly. “Good job Ryan. You impressed me back there.” And with that Fraylon dipped his wings and circled back.

            Ryan never really liked Daemon but somehow that complement made his heart swell. He gazed after the two for a second before snapping to reality. “Let’s land somewhere in the woods. We’ll rest up for just a couple minutes, okay?” Thistle said nothing but leveled out his wings, heading for the forest.

            Lauri watched from the crest of the hill. Seated on the highest bough, she had the best view of everything for miles around. Her twin javelins were strapped to her back, her hunting knives heavy in the sheathes on her thighs. Vali was busy constructing the ranks. They had already appointed their most trusted warriors as twelve generals, each with the charge of a thousand men. The pitiful force was less than half the size of the Vulnairian army, but Vali’s presence carried the assurance of a quick victory.

            But now Lauri’s heart fell as she took in the situation. Ryan and Daemon had been working hard, but it was hardly a dent. Steady explosions boomed in her ears, distant cries sounding like lost crows in her ears. She smiled as she saw Fraylon and Thistle working together. She had seen great improvement in teamwork between the two from their training, and nothing made her happier than seeing her work pay off.

            The troops are ready. Can we advance? Vali asked in her mind, breaking through her thoughts.

            Two hours of bombing should be good enough. Go ahead. Lauri had replied.

            Thirty minutes later she was regretting her decision. She watched in horror as rocks were flung into the sky, almost crushing Fraylon like a bug! Thankfully, Thistle had been alert and had quickly tried to demolish whatever had been throwing them, but had failed and her heart felt like it had grown still within her. What’s wrong? Vali had demanded. I feel your anguish.

            At that moment, Thistle and Fraylon had shot into the sky like a victory flag, their mighty wings pumping. Lauri felt like letting loose a sigh of relief and fainting against the tree. But this was not the time for dramatics. Go! Go! They’re safe!

            Not five minutes later the war cries of the Barokians rent the air and Lauri smiled as they swarmed around her tree and pressed hard against the Vulnairian forces. The bangs of metal upon metal filled her ears- dastardly sounds of pain and hissing arrows following.

            “Well, my little monkey. Are you coming down or not?” Vali’s voice rumbled below.

            Lauri looked down to find her dragon staring up at her, clad in full battle armor. Strapped to her sides were various weapons, most of them javelins. A single horn protruded from the helmet that protected her narrow forehead. Silver armbands decorated her arms and thighs, her talons were sharpened and ready, her webbed tail armed with special spikes to inflict damage. Lauri could feel her excitement growing, even though she appeared as calm as a clam. “Vali, you and I both know now is not the time to reveal ourselves,” Lauri said, feeling surprised at Vali’s brash desire. She lifted her eyes to scan the battlefield. “I know it kills you to see them fighting and you not, but we must wait for our time.”

            Vali plopped herself down against the side of the tree, her metal armor making a racket. She cursed inwardly, but Lauri heard it. “This metal is hot,” she stated in a monotone, but Lauri knew what she really meant. She was dehydrated. Vali didn’t like to stay away from the water for long. Vali seemed to catch her thought and grunted, her aqua eyes trained on the war. “I will be fine, Rider.”

            Lauri leaned over on the branch… ah, one had come out of hiding. It was rampaging through the Barokian ranks as a Julnor, it’s huge talons mowing soldiers down like grass, Vulnairian and Barokian alike. Fraylon, where are you? Lauri thought, seething. No sooner had she thought that then Fraylon skyrocketed over the creature, and it went up in flames. No sooner had that one gone down then another appeared, this time as its own form, a jet black giant panther cavorting through the ranks, tearing people apart before they could say a word. Lauri could feel Vali get restless as one by one they came out of hiding, but she didn’t make a move. Not yet.

            She waited, her fingers itching for her javelins as she saw her men fall, saw the cats emerge from hiding to wreak havoc. Finally they had both had enough. That’s it, we’re going in, they told each other at the same time. Vali was on her feet and ready when Lauri jumped nimbly from her perch to land in the saddle, where she quickly unslung a javelin and raised in the air, her voice melding into Vali’s as their war cry crashed through the plains like a roiling wave.

            And they charged.

            Vali may have been a water dragon, but she was sleek and agile, made for weaving in the fabric of the ocean. Her run was like that of a panther, her body bunching up before uncoiling like a spring, her flexible spine adding to the momentum. She seemed to float over the ground; not even her armor made the slightest noise. Lauri was completely in rhythm with her dragon, it didn’t seem like she was riding a creature that was running seventy miles an hour, rather that she was a genie riding on a cloud, her severe face serene, her dark braid flying behind her.

            Immediately the Barokians cleared a path for Vali to charge through, their spirits lifted at the sight of their giant leader.

            Vali broke through the Vulnairian front lines like paper.

            Her front talons raked through them, crushing them easily with her weight. She lowered her head, impaling a few with her horns before throwing them distastefully over her shoulder. She tossed her head side to side like a mad minotaur, all four of her legs flying, tossing men like ragdolls. On her back, Lauri was throwing javelin after javelin with deadly accuracy. Together they were deadly.

            And they drew the cats like flies to a cow patty.

            The ones who hadn’t already shed their mortal bodies started changing. Most of the creatures were black as hell, but a few sported different colors, some with tiger stripes or leopard spots, and even more took on mightier forms such as Julnors and even a giant snake tried to strike Lauri. Big mistake. Vali snapped its neck like a toothpick and charged on as the body writhed in death. The cats pounced from all over, scrabbling up Vali’s armored side to try and prove their mettle against her Rider. Lauri never let go of her trusty javelin as she jabbed at them, forcing them to slide back down or cry out in anguish as the blade met its mark.

            And suddenly… a rock.

            Lauri screamed as debris rained onto her, instinctually raising her javelin over her face. Vali was rocked sideways from the blast, almost losing her footing. Scrabbling sideways, she just managed to right herself and sped off, her animal-like instincts taking over. Lauri looked back wildly to find a rock had imbedded itself into the earth not ten feet away from where they had been a second before, raising the earth around it and crushing a few people. “What the-“

            BAM!

            Vali slammed bodily into another rock, her chest plate almost crushed by the impact. Lauri looked wildly around. More and more rocks were flying into the Barokian forces, smashing up to twenty at a time. At this rate…. “Someone needs to take down whatever those machines are! Where are Thistle and Fraylon?”

            Vali let out a low roar that shivered through the air like a live creature. The reply was almost immediate. Lauri could not see Fraylon but could hear his feminine cry in draconic. “We can’t get close enough to it,” was his simple message. Vali cursed. Do I have to do everything myself? She sprung over the rock, snarling, sinking her teeth into Vulnarian flesh and armor as if it were butter.

            The Vulnairians seemed to catch what she was trying to do and they aimed both their machines at her, firing from every angle until she felt like a lizard bound to get stepped on. Cursing, she fell back, out of range. “Where is Thistle?” she roared.

            “He’s resting,” came Fraylon’s reply.

            A cat emerged from the fray, it’s pitch eyes focused on Lauri. It stood on top of a dead horse, its huge black chest heaving. It laughed chillingly. “Lauri, the Great Destroyer,” it mocked, “What are you going to do now? You lead your troops to die. Look around you, great Rider. What do you see? Death.”

            Lauri looked around slowly, her heart sinking to the ground. The Barokians were fighting bravely but they were few. As each man of the Vulnairians fell, ten more rose up from the depths of the forest, fresh and eager for bloodshed. Her pitiful army was destined to fall. She turned back to the Felinus with narrowed eyes. “You may be right, but I swear to the Creator, I will take each and every one of you down with me!” And with that, she threw her javelin, impaling it right through the neck.

            And they charged onward.