₰₰ One hundred five ₰₰​

“Okay everyone, this is our last gathering, the battle begins shortly and I want to go over everything one last time,” Master Roerich said as he leaned over the map-ladened table. “Night Shades armies continue to advance upon us. They come from the east, south-east and the north-east; three distinct battle groups, of at least seven legions in strength. This does not count the reported ‘slew or two’ of other monsters and beasties with them.”

“We have moved here into the field for one reason, the three groups have become spread apart, and thus have left substantial gaps in their flanks…” Roerich said with a wicked grin, “Gaps we are going to exploit. Unlike with Hap-tooth Hill we do not have the edge of using Forest Wyrms or their kin. But we will use every trick and means we need to crush each one in turn.”

“Their central force, approaching from the east, is a day ahead of the rest, and encamped around this area…” Roerich tapped the table with his fist, “Ten-Lakes, it’s a forested set of hills and high crags, ravines and the like, and thus perfect for us as they will not expect a daring, no-holds-barred assault from us. We are leaving only a small guard on the encampment as we will need everyone for this fight. Remember, we are on death ground with only two outcomes - win or perish to the last. There will be no surrenders accepted, no quarter given and no mercy shown towards our enemies.”

That sobered everyone up, for the fight would be hard and vicious beyond anyone’s experience.

“Our first objective: annihilate the east-approaching force, and hit the others from their most vulnerable of positions…” Roerich declared.

“Master Roerich,” Dame Winter-Glove moved forward with a concerned expression on her face, “what of the wild-magic generated storm? It’s started to dissipate soon after we learned of Night Shades death, can we still use that ‘wild magic’ stuff you and Snow Cat talked of earlier? And for that matter, is she going to be in this fight – she took one heck of a blow from that Dragons-bane poison…”

“We have a few surprises in store for any of the enemy who may reach our encampment. The ‘wild-magic stuff’ that I and Snow Cat explained a few days ago is centered there; for our enemy in the field we have a few other surprises in mind. If I can manage to do so, the Cloud Rays may make a second appearance…if not, I have a few other ways to destroy a legion outright…”

“I know that much for a fact, I saw first-hand what the ‘Draconic Holocaust’ did at the Battle of Five-Hills,” Sir Robinson declared. “One or two of those and poof, no more enemies to deal with,” he grinned until he saw Master Roerich shake his head.

“Not that easy this time around,” Roerich declared, “the enemy commanders have spread their forces far enough apart. One or two ‘Draconic Holocaust’ spells will take down one legion, two if we have extreme fortune on our side. Even I and Snow Cat are capable of only so much; so we will knock them down a few notches, and then we go in and root them out the old fashion way…”

“Now then, in the matter of the encampment, if the enemy approaches they will not find it to be as easy of a fight as it may appear to be; though that will be Captain Laurence’s battle if comes to it….” Master Roerich said with a wicked grin of mischief and glee, as he imagined the horror the enemy would experience in such a matter – especially from the shadowy beast that had been seen in the area…


Roerich recalled the uttermost shock on Laurence’s face when he learned, and then met, the beast…

Battle-Briars can be so much fun to deal with; especially when the sentient, plant-based, siege-machines are let loose on your enemies.

“What matters most is our battles have to focus on the eastern approaching army first, then we will swing to the north and hit the north-eastern army on its rear and left flank.” Roerich saw the nods of approval from the most experienced of commanders, “And before anyone asks, we should have enough time between crushing the north-eastern army before we have to turn and face the third. Reapers wolf-were forces are already skirmishing with its forces, in an effort to harass and delay them as long as possible; remember that the sacrifice they made at Broken-bridges allowed us to win then and there. They are making the same sacrifice for the rest of us to win in the east and the north-east.”

Sir Robinson looked at Roerich and asked, “Is Snow Cat going to be with us? We can use her magical skills to batter the enemy from above…”

“She, Marcus and Hanna are already in action,” Roerich declared, “along with the forces of Archendale under Sir Sky-flame. They are anxious to try out the new tactics they have developed…”

“I wish them luck and success in their efforts, for we have so much riding upon them,” Sir Robinson said and then turned to face Master Roerich, “we have one of our Battle-titans ready for you, at least in this manner we can keep more mobile and have some of the Knights protect you at the same time…”

Sir Robinson’s stern look turned sheepish as he heard the chain of chuckles and laughter around him, “Right, it’s more like you will have us along for the ride as you do your usual mayhem. I forgot about that ‘Red Wizard’ stuff of yours…”

Robinson sighed, “Still we need to get going, the first groups should be in position now, and the main attack is set to commence in ten hours…I do not intend to make the same mistake again as at Five-hills, we cannot have anymore such failures…”

Master Roerich looked at each of his present commanders and nodded. “Lets go then, this battle needs to be fought and its time to do so…may all of you make it though this safely…” and under his breath he whispered, “and may you as well Snow Cat…”

₰₰ One Hundred six ₰₰​

From the forested knoll Sir Sky-flame watched the encamped orc battalion below with keen interest. Laid out in a pentagon shape, the five companies of troops showed incredible discipline and organization, and thus marked themselves as elite shock troops…and thus the first targets for his band of skirmishers.

One of his aides tapped him on the shoulder and gestured to their north-east. He spotted Marcus and Hanna as they began their first attacks upon the army below.

“Get ready,” He whispered to his men, “five salvos of arrows and retreat unless I say otherwise.”

He nocked an enchanted arrow on his composite bow and selected an orc sentry for his first target. The grin on his face matched that of his men, for the last few weeks, aided by Snow Cat, their bows had been endowed with the ‘Arrow-swarm’ ability. They had trained hard in new tactics – offensive and defensive – to exploit this new ability, and intended to reap a harvest of death among their foes…

One orc sentry screamed as he spotted Hanna and Marcus far too late…

“Loose!” Sir Sky-flame roared, and thirty-three others, all which remained of the Archendale contingent, fired the first salvo of death and destruction…

₰​

Snow Cat looked down at the enemy encampment they had targeted for destruction – five battalions of elite orc and ogre troops. She nodded in approval of their defensive tactic, all five camps arranged in a pentagon shape, and thus presented no exposed flanks for an enemy to hit; each battalion force was set up the same way, and a attacker would face slaughter by only a handful of defenders…

Five interlocked fortresses, all but impervious to ground assault…but not from above…

“Let’s begin Marcus,” Snow Cat said to her brother as her cloak flew like a pennant behind her. She readied her bow and infused the arrow with magical might; then she braced her stomach as she waited for Marcus to begin his steep-dive towards the encampment.

Hanna took up her place from above and behind, for she watched for airborne enemies – drakes, dragons or any other such dangers, while Snow Cat and Marcus struck, then the roles will reverse.

Snow Cat leaned pressed down against Marcus’s spine as he roared and dove, her stomach churned and she grimaced. She saw the orc sentry call out in alarm as it pointed up at the team of dragons and cat-girl. “Too late you idiots, elite orcs indeed, never thought to watch from above…” she said and commenced to cast one of her most powerful of spells.

Marcus unleashed his spell of ‘Lightning Harvest’ which crossed from his claws to the orc sentry in a white hot flash of death. From the sentry twenty bolts of lightning arced outward in a harvest of death and destruction that shattered tents and wagons, slew orcs, ogres and other such creatures by the score. A moment later the magic, enhanced by Marcus’s esoteric knowledge, repeated its harvest upon the few creatures which survived.


Marcus roared in triumph and clawed into the sky as Snow Cat unleashed her magical spell.

Snow Cat spotted Hanna who gestured to a nearby hilltop. She looked and grinned, delighted that her ultimate prey had been so stupid to present himself.

Up came her bow and she sighted the man down the length of her shaft, then loosed the bespelled arrow…

₰​

Sir Sky-flame loosed his last arrow and watched the mayhem below. The arrow duplicated into eighteen more and slaughtered sixteen orcs who had clustered together. He estimated over two-thirds of the enemy force had been slain, and then he turned and signaled for his men to retreat as planned…

He thought of how wild and merry of a chase he and his men will lead the enemy upon. They are to be nothing more than bait, used to antagonize and provoke a wild reaction from the enemy. And when his forces are on the move, in part or whole, the Heartland River Expedition forces will hit it in force at key locations.

“I hope I get to see the final battle,” he said with a wicked grin. He had a bet on with Dame Winter-glove as to the plans success, if he won she had to let him bed her for a week straight…a wager so tempting he was determined to stay alive no matter what…

Sometimes though, the fortune of war has other plans in mind.

₰​

Caesar, dark priest of Shar and commander of the east-approaching army, grew ever angrier as he saw the forms of Snow Cat, Marcus and Hanna began their raid upon one of his regiments. “Blast all of them already, why have none of our sky-drakes or even our archers stopping them? We have to take them down before they return to Master Roerich and give a full accounting of our strength…?”

“Sir our sky-drakes have moved to the area of Crossing as per your orders earlier this night…” his aide-de-camp declared. The angry curses of Caesar made him doubt the authenticity of those earlier orders, “Sir, who then gave the orders, they bore your signature to the letter…”

“High Lord Cronus, damn him to the depths of Hades…” Caesar shouted as he began to issue orders for his legions to prepare for battle. He sensed that Roerich was already on the way, and that he and his forces would be the first ones taken on…

He only hoped his deceptions worked.

“Incoming!” shouted a sentry who pointed to the sky above them…

Caesar watched a lone arrow soar across the skies and descend to land only inches from his feet, and then his world lit up in a second sun for the last time in his life. He and his headquarters vanished in a heartbeat, and with it went the overall leadership of his legions.

₰​

“Hah, lets see what they can do about that,” Snow Cat said as the enemy commander and his entire headquarters vanished in a brilliant blast of Phoenix-fire. She only had three such arrows left, all that she had time to craft in the last couple of days. The gifted arrows from Brother Hart held much deadly magic, but she intended to save them unless given no other choice.

Marcus turned to his right and allowed her to see the effects of her earlier spell…and she chuckled at the sight.

The northernmost battalion disappeared under a mass of insects which resembled nothing more than a writhing carpet of death. Orcs, ogres and all others caught in the hoard of insects screamed, panicked, and then died from thousands of venomous bites and stings; for they had succumbed to the forces of a ‘Massed Creeping Doom.’

Snow Cat watched the volleys from the Archendale contingent devastate another battalion encampment. Five volleys and then they retreated in good order to the next ridgeline. “Good, hit and move, hit and move, that’s all they can do for now,” she said with approval.

She signaled for Hanna, who had finished her attack run with lightning and fire, to follow as Marcus climbed into the skies. Hit and run, hit and run, that is the plan for the next few hours. Harass and annoy the enemy and gradually pull them into a larger ambush…

“Snow Cat, where are the other sky-drakes or other fliers? Why have none of them come to oppose our efforts here?” Marcus asked via their mind-to-mind link.

She had no answers for them, and no more time to inquire or contemplate, for the first true terror of the enemy forces emerged from the darkened woods and headed straight for the Archendale contingent…

“Oh no, Furnace-Drakes,” Snow Cat stated, “come on Marcus, we have to get down there and help out…we have at least a score of them in the area. Just don’t go for their backs, they have hot enough bodies to harm you with ease…”

Marcus grunted, and recalled the one Furnace-drake he took on. Thirty feet long with a serpentine body on four massively muscled legs, the fast predators feared nothing. Four massive frills covered their backs and sides, and glowed red hot from the intense furnace-like temperatures the drakes generated. Anyone stupid enough to grapple or claw or bite with one would sustain massive burns from temperatures that can slag metal instantly.

Of course that is just the challenge Marcus loved to no end, and he dove at such speed that Snow Cat screamed.

₰​

Sir Sky-flame shook his head in awe of the sheer carnage wrought by Marcus, Hanna and Snow Cat against the Furnace-drakes. He and his men had been running flat out for the next ridgeline as the enemy forces used horns and drums, great bells and other devices to warn of the raiders; then off to the side one hilltop erupted in a blaze to rival the sun – he assumed Marcus or Snow Cat had achieved that spectacle.

The Furnace-drakes had appeared out of the woods to their front and side. No warning or hesitation had been shown by them, just an all-out assault. In moments fifteen of his men perished, as did three Furnace-drakes, but there would have been no escape.


Then his men and the Furnace-drakes were swept up in a massive blast of cold so deep and absolute that he still felt it to the core of his body. None of his men had been physically hurt by the cold, but each Furnace-drake had been transformed into statuary of pure glass; glass that his men promptly shattered in their entirety.

Sky-Flame looked over at Snow Cat and Marcus as they approached. “Hail Snow Cat, you saved our tails this fine day my Lady. Most excellent blast of cold or such that you used upon the Furnace-drakes; does it have a name by chance…” he asked of her as Marcus grumbled about his sister stealing all of his fun.

Snow Cat smiled and nodded, “It’s called Umbral Blizzard. Only a handful of magicians can cast it, and that has to do for now. We still have a job to do, and the enemy army is right behind us; I’m sorry to say this, but the dead have to be left here for now, the rest of our side depends on our efforts…”

“I understand my lady,” Sir Sky-flame declared, “we’ll be on the way in two minutes…”

The woods and hills shook as the thundered retort of magical blasts swept over them. The message was clear, Hanna has engaged a battalion or more of the enemy, and they are very close.

“Get going right now, it looks like we have stumbled into a rats nest of them,” Snow Cat instructed him as Marcus moved to climb into the skies.

“Blast it then, get moving now,” Sir Sky-flame declared, for he knew that they had run out of time. He roared out orders for his remaining men to move out, and they sped for the next defensive ridge as a legion of enemy troops and monsters roared forward, determined to see their harassers exterminated once and for all.

₰​

As Marcus climbed, Snow Cat looked over the legion that approached. She shook her head at the speed and discipline displayed, and wondered where such troops had ultimately come from; then she discovered a great truth of their movement, the series of ravines and paths they moved along; near the center of these paths and pitfalls, the legions battalions wound up closing into a compact mass.

“Marcus, swing us around to the left of the legion, I’m going to cause a bit of a distraction at first and then…” she explained to him what would follow, and he instructed Hanna to keep clear and watch over Sir Sky-flames reduced forces.

Marcus brought them close enough for Snow Cat to ensure her ‘distraction’ would take place, as he lobbed a chain of fireballs into the lead battalions of orc-kin…

₰​

“Clear the next ridge and head to the north-west, there is a ravine that fishhooks to the left, hide there and keep your heads down. Trust me, this will be worth it, for Snow Cat has something wonderful in mind,” Sir Sky-flame heard from Hanna via her quick magical communiqué.


His men cleared the ridge as Sir Sky-flame spotted the spotted the ravine and directed his men into it. “Take cover and keep down, Snow Cat is going to pull off something spectacular…”

Just a moment later, the mighty magical spell of Snow Cats unleashed its wrath upon the enemy legion…and the few survivors of the Archendale forces beheld Snow Cats surprise…

₰​

Snow Cat smiled as her distraction shattered the three lead battalions. She never had considered just how useful the magic of ‘Elemental Swarm’ could be until then. Sixty of the massive brutes between eight to thirty feet in height smashed orcs, ogres, giants and goblins, and other monsters as a man does an egg in his fist. Each of the elementals represented a spirit of the earth given form and purpose – stronger and tougher than a mountain, and all but invulnerable to magic and weapons, they served as the ideal distraction…

The spirits returned to their home in another dimension as Snow Cat released the magic which bound them to her will; and she finished casting her surprise for the enemy legion…

The very heavens themselves erupted in a phanstasmagorphic display of light and sound as Snow Cat unleashed the “Draconic Holocaust.”

Over the fields, hills and woods that the enemy marched the nighttime heavens were torn asunder as twenty mighty dragons emerged amidst writhing columns of red-gold-tinged flames hundreds of feet high and wide. The very ground shook for miles as they roared. Iridescent fires of absolute purity of color swept their massive forms and lit their eyes with ever growing power and menace felt by everyone…

Then great arcs of white-hot lightning, each as brilliant in its displayed glory as the sun at mid-day, danced and writhed between each of the mighty dragons. The ground shook, danced, writhed and heaved as a mighty windstorm swept the area encompassed by the dragons, and magnified as all twenty of them roared…

A cataclysmic display of lightning, fire, hail, wind and forces beyond imagination of all save the mightiest of magicians rent the enemy formations. All sentient life within the region of the dragons was consumed, erased from the cosmos as if it never existed, as the twenty mighty dragons absorbed the spent energy back into their beings and faded from sight.

Sir Sky-flame stared in wide-eyed terror and disbelief at that display of raw power unleashed by Snow Cat, for not one member of the enemy force remained; and the great field they crossed was untouched, not one blade of grass or pebble, not one tree or leaf, had been dislocated or harmed.

“That’s one less legion to deal with now,” Snow Cat said as Marcus growled. She followed the direction of his gaze and spotted the mass of birds flying for the skies. One mass of winter starlings soared after another, and told her one clear fact – more legions were close, and already prepared to do battle.

“At the least, we will have no difficulty drawing them into the fight we want,” Snow Cat said.

“Very true, we only need to goad an entire, oh, six or so legions, into swarming across fifteen footmen and two dragons and a cat-girl who is a dragon, and somehow survive another ten hours…” Marcus flatly stated. He gave a growl as Snow Cat laughed.


“Get us closer to those hills Marcus, I have and idea to slow down the pursuit for a time,” Snow Cat said.

Marcus grumbled about missing all the fun of a major battle – especially with brutal monsters that challenge his fighting skills to the limits of his endurance and ability. “Why do I never get to have any fun…” he mulled over and over as he complied with Snow Cats instructions.

Snow Cat cast a complex spell which shook the hills to their foundations. Slowly, inexorably, the magical force tore asunder the ground and bedrock below and forged a rift nearly two-hundred feet deep and three miles in length.

She smiled and nodded in approval of the changes wrought, “That should slow them for a bit…” her next words were silenced by Marcus’s growl of disapproval. “What is it Marcus,” she asked.

“Why have you wasted such powerful magic when the enemy can bridge it so easily? They will cross the gap inside of a half-hour at most simply by climbing down one side, cross the bottom and exit by climbing the opposing cliff?”

“Very true Marcus, very true, or at least that is what one would think…and I’m surprised you missed the second part of the plan…” Snow Cat said with a smile as she monitored the leading edge of the enemy formations. She did a quick count of battalions and regimental deployments, banners and such, and grew worried, for there were many more than there should be for a force of seven legions.

“What’s the ‘second part of the plan’ you speak of…” Marcus quieted as his preternaturally keen vision caught the first glimmers on the horizon, then the cloud of steam and mist that writhed and flowed above the far end of the rift…”Oh, that other part of the plan,” he said and rolled his eyes to the heavens, and indeed he had not made the connection…

The rift ended at the nearest lake…whose waters were even now roared down the rift, and should intercept a few battalions of the enemy just as they cross the bottom…

“Beautiful Snow Cat, beautiful,” Marcus said.

₰₰ One hundred seven ₰₰​

Dame Fox-glove watched as the enemy legion advanced and shook her head in reluctant admiration. The mass of orcs, ogres, goblins and giants marched in tight and mutually supportive formations that spoke of iron-hard training and discipline only found among elite troops. She took keen note of how one battalion at a time would advance, assume a hasty defense formation, and watch until the remainder of the legion passed, then rejoin it as the new rear guard…this was done to ensure any ambush, such as hers, would be detected early and dealt with by savage counterattacks.

“This had better work,” Dame Fox-glove said to herself while she gestured to her commanders to ready for the attack. Concealed across three low hillsides among thick groves of trees and dense underbrush, her elite forces of Harrowdale and twelve other auxiliary companies lifted spears, blades, and shields. Archers slightly behind them nocked arrows as magicians and priests cast final defensive spells upon the formations and over the field of battle.

“Unleash the distraction…” Dame Fox-glove called out and watched as a cacophony of noise erupted from the front of her forces. Ghostly images of men on foot and horse rushed forward, wave upon wave, at the enemy formations. Five battalions of orcs and ogres formed a inverted ‘W’ formation and leveled spears and shields in a phalanx designed to punish all attackers…save for those that do not exist…

The shocked expressions and screams of rage and surprise of the enemy were muffled moments later as their compact formations were torn asunder. Barrage after barrage of fireballs and lightning bolts, storms of ice and hard stone and metal blades merged with rolling clouds of poison gas and necromantic energy that stilled hearts and crushed bodies.

Dame Fox-glove unleashed her own magic into the maelstrom of death being wrought. She summoned into the world spirits of the air who struck with tornados and lightning, blasts of life-ending cold that instantly froze blood of all it touched.

Other magicians summoned spirits of the earth which appeared as statues of fired clay. Commonly called ‘Dust Warriors’ or ‘Terracotta soldiers,’ the elemental creations advanced and engaged their enemies in tight, platoon and company sized formations. Moment by moment the list of the dead increased and the grim reaper clapped his hands with savage glee at the sight before his immortal eyes.

Then the second enemy regiment emerged unto the battle and rushed forward to assist their comrades.

Dame Fox-glove smiled as the regiment divided into three sections, and presented the back of their formations to her troops. “Now, hit them now! Hold nothing back!” she shouted and the entirety of her command surged forward…and the dance of death escalated to new heights of brutality…

Dame Fox-glove cast a spell of far-speaking to communicate with Master Roerich, Dame Winter-glove and Sir Roerich. “We have commenced our attack, initial results good, two regiments of the legion shattered but we still have three more approaching. There are more regiment banners coming out of the woods as well...” she shook her head and reported, “We’re either facing more opposition than expected, or something else is going on…”

₰​

“What in the blazes is going on now? We struck them as planned and now we find out that there is nothing here but empty tents, false fortifications and…” Sir Robinson swung his sword at one of the fake ‘soldiers’ within the encampment walls and sliced it in twain. “And these false soldiers, little more than twig and straw scare crows…”

“Where in the world are they?” Robinson said as he led his Battle-titan along by its harness. He walked over to where Dame Lae’lion stood as she tended to a minor wound her mount had received. A band of squires and of knights formed a circle around them, determined to ensure their leaders safety if they had walked into some sort of ambush.

“What in the blazes went wrong this time Lae’lion? Where did I mess up now?” Robinson said, his pride and ego all but crushed under the weight of another perceived failure. “What went wrong? And where are the main enemy forces located…”

The Knights of Essembra with their Battle-titan mounts and eight auxiliary companies slammed hard into the encampment, a pentagon shaped structure of five battalions. The outermost defenses were sundered in mere moments, broken apart by multiple spell barrages, and then the brutal might of the Battle-titans. With a breach fully opened and expanded upon by the moment, the auxiliaries followed and commenced to scour the place from one end to another…

Only to find it vacant of all life, save for birds and a few snowshoe hares. Then came the news from the scouts dispatched to the other regimental encampments. All reported the same news: no enemy found, just more of the cleverly used decoys.

“Blast it then, if they are not here, where is the legion we were supposed to destroy?” Sir Roerich said with a great scowl on his face. “If they are not here, then the entire expedition is moving into a trap, and we have no idea what we face or where to deploy for best effect.” He shook his head and sighed, “Its happening again, I have led us astray and now the other forces will pay a dear price for my mistake…”

Dame Lae’lion came over and placed a mailed hand on her friends shoulder, “No, that is not the entire tale. We fell for the deception of our enemy. This is not your fault, we have discovered the deception and our entire force is still intact; we have to warn Roerich so he can adjust the plans he had for this contingent. Now, get over this mood of yours and start leading, this battle is more than just you or me, or even all of the Knights, we have to do our part…”

Dame Lae’lion walked back to her Battle-titan and climbed into the saddle. “Sir Robinson, its time for you to lead, and show the world what a real Knight is all about,” she shook her head as he listlessly climbed into the saddle of his mount. “Either lead us my friend, or let me do so and stay out of the way,” she whispered to herself. Her mount grunted in agreement.

Lae’lion has come to understand how enjoyable the Battle-titans are to speak with. When she discovered that she could speak with them, a whole new world had opened up before her. She brushed her mailed fist over her mounts neck and grinned, “I named you Thunder due to the roar you unleashed when you were hatched. Now I find out your mother actually named you ‘buttercup,’ which is fitting indeed…”

The great Battle-titan snorted and rolled his eyes to the heavens…

₰​

Snow Cat dismounted the instant Marcus landed and rushed around to his right flank. She grimaced at the great gashes which she found, proof of the last fight they and the forces of Archendale had gotten into. A shadow passed overhead and she signaled for Hanna to land at once next to her and Marcus.

“It will be alright Marcus; Hanna can get you patched up…” Snow Cat said as Marcus winced in pain, a rare admission of how bad the injuries were. She moved back as Hanna, still in her dragon shape, raced over and examined the wounds.

“Marcus, you have to stop grappling with those Furnace-drakes,” Hanna declared as she placed her forepaws on his armored hide and cast the last healing magic she possessed. Three other men, priests and healers, came over and added their own remaining magic to her efforts…all in all, they closed the wounds and restored most of the flesh and armored scales to their original glory; but Marcus was still far from fully healed.

Snow Cat looked at the three men and Hanna, and nodded her head. “Thank you, hopefully this will teach my hot-headed brother a little caution,” she winced and fought the urge to scream as Marcus tapped her on the hip, exactly where she was injured by another Furnace-drake she wound up fighting on the ground.

“Blast it Snow Cat, why did you not say anything…” Hanna began to say until Marcus interrupted her.

“Because my sister is as stubborn headed as me, and decided that everyone else needed the healing magic more than herself,” Marcus said while he shook his head at Snow Cat. “She is noble to a fault in that regard when we are in battle…”

“Snow Cat my dear…” Master Roerich called out to her from astride his borrowed Battle-titan. The beast gave a bray of sympathetic support for Marcus. Roerich climbed down and signaled for his escort to be on guard, for he knew the enemy was near.

“Snow Cat, what happened to you and…urk!” he squeaked as rushed over and crushed him in a great bear hug. He grimaced and groaned as she tightened her hug, forgetting for a moment he is not a dragon, but merely a human…

“Snow Cat,” Roerich squeaked, “Do you mind if I breathe…”

Snow Cat let him go and apologized, adjusted his red robes and fur-trimmed white vest, then explained that the enemy forces were a couple of miles ahead.

“Have there been any signs of the War-weavers or other mages of power among them? Spell wielding monsters or such that they can use to interfere with my spell casting?” Master Roerich asked of her.

“None that I, Marcus or Hanna have seen, we have been too busy running and covering what is left of the Archendale contingent…” Snow Cat said as she nodded to the three men next to Marcus. “That is all who are left. Just before we got to our lines, a force of Furnace-drakes and other land bound drakes, plus a host of orcs, ogres and giants hit us. We barely got out alive,” she grimaced as her hip injuries flared, “Sir Sky-flame took down nearly a half-dozen of those four-legged foundries before he fell…swallowed whole by one when his back was turned.”


“I’m sorry to hear that Snow Cat,” Roerich said as he held her upright and called for his escorts healers to attend her, Marcus, Hanna and the three other men. He shook his head, and he wondered how many lives would be lost due to his plans and efforts…

“Roerich, we have to exercise some caution, I hit their command post with one of my Phoenix-arrows and took it out, along with a battalion or so of their troops,” Snow cat began and fought back a scream as a healer went to work on her injuries. “We have seen nearly double the number of regimental and battalion banners than there should be. There have been drums and gongs, horns and bells used further in the woods where great clouds of birds have taken to the air…”

“Which confirms other information our scouts and forces to the north have relayed,” Master Roerich said to her, “false encampments and formations of scarecrow soldiers designed to lure us away from the real encampments; I suspect that you and the Archendale forces ran into their main force. Sir Robinson is beside himself for hitting the false encampments. I’m sorry that all of you had to pay such a price for this discovery…if I had figured it out ahead of time…”

“Master Roerich,” Marcus said in a pain-filled voice which startled many of Roerich’s escort, “you could not have anticipated this move by the enemy. What matters now is we make the most of the opportunity; there are three legions upon ground surrounded by three of the lakes, it appears to be the central pivot point for a flanking action. If that is the case, then that group is isolated as reinforcements have to bypass the lakes, which are not frozen due to hot-springs…”

“Then that is where we shall begin, if it’s a trap, then we use it to our advantage, as the reserves are in place,” Roerich stated. He called his magical staff into his hand and grinned at his wife, “Let me contact Robinson and have him swing his forces southward; if these three legions are bait, then Roerich will swing past them. One fair sized hammer-blow with Dame Fox-glove holding her place, and we smash most of the enemy…”

“Are you up to creating a fair deal of magical mayhem my dear?” Roerich said as he offered his arm to Snow Cat.

“Yes, just like we discussed earlier, though how we are going to get there since Marcus is not fit for another battle,” Snow Cat said and shook her head as Marcus stood up, challenged her statement, and promptly fell back to the ground. “Marcus, you and Hanna are staying put,” Snow Cat said in a tone that invited no dissention. She asked of Roerich and his escort if another Battle-titan was available for her to ride.

One was prepared for her as she ran to Marcus and retrieved her bow and its saddle-sheath. “Marcus, I’ll make it through this alright, the healer did a fine job on my injuries…” She hesitated when Marcus snorted, and she shook her head, “and I know better than to deliver the killing strike on a Furnace-drake from beneath it!”

“Besides, me and Roerich have a few surprises in store for our enemies,” Snow Cat said and kissed Marcus on his armored cheek.

“What else have you two insane malcontents come up with?” Marcus asked of his sister and Roerich. When he found out, he slammed his head onto the ground, “When will I learn…” he said between the mighty hammer blows.

Hanna shook her head and looked at Snow Cat. “He does that a lot lately…” she said.

₰₰ One hundred eight ₰₰​

Chieftain Rock-Hurler looked at his fellow legion commanders and waited for them to reach a decision. With the death of their commander Caesar, he had assumed command and prepared to continue the offensive. The end game was the same: destroy the Heartland River Expedition in total.

“Our enemy has fallen for the decoy encampments. The Knights of Essembra and their auxiliaries are even now holding their position and appear to be unsure of what to do. As for their flanking attack in the hills right here,” Rock-Hurler tapped the map before him and indicated an area just south of the three converging lakes, “has been stopped for the moment. The hills are high and offer a formidable defensive point; we will suffer great loss of life to retake them…”

Chief Gut-Renderer declared, “True, as the legion of Huntsman Chief Dragon Flame was annihilated by those same forces led by Harrowdale. What I suggest is this,” he outlined an area of the map with one hand, “we hit the Knights of Essembra with three legions when they turn upon our main force encamped between the lakes. If we maul or destroy the Knights, then the rest of our enemies will fall in short order.”

Chief Gnarled Hands grunted, “We have a total of eleven legions as of an hour ago. Let us have six committed to the lake region. Keep two in reserve between the Knights and flanking action – I assume Harrowdale still leads it?” he got a nod of affirmation, “and use the other three – my own legion among them is already involved in major skirmishes – against the Harrowdale led forces.”

Chief Grinning-Skull smiled and asked of Rock-Hurler, “Where do you think the main blow will be delivered?”

“At the area of Three-lakes, where our best legions are located,” Chieftain Rock-Hurler stated, “just as Chief Gnarled Hands figured. It is the logical spot and six legions should be more than enough to destroy the Knights completely. One small change to the plan, I suggest we take one legion from the reserve and have it destroy the enemy reserves, a mere eight companies have no chance against one full-strength legion.”

“Indeed, that is a good change to the plan. Eleven legions in total are more than enough,” Chief Gnarled Hands declared with a snort. “We will destroy our enemies, head for the encampment and annihilate it. If you will excuse me, I need to get back to my legion, the next assault is due within the hour and I will lead it in person. Just save me a portion of our enemies’ encampment for me and my troops…”

“Assuming that Commander Corinthian does not speed up his forces and hit them first,” Chieftain Rock-Hurler stated. “Though maybe we should let them, as our scouts have reported the Heartland River Expedition camp is warded by powerful magic, some strange monster not yet identified, and formidable defenses…”

Chief Runt Crusher looked at his fellow commanders and declared, “Lets deal with that matter once we deal with the forces of Master Roerich. Do not forget what he did at Hap-tooth Hill, and for that matter, what that dragon-riding cat-girl did last night when she annihilated the better portion of two legions borrowed from the forces of Commander Cyrus…the only good news is they took apart the Archendale contingent.”

“I imagine Commander Cyrus will not happy with that news…two legions.” Chief Gnarled Hands said.


“Indeed,” Chieftain Rock-Hurler declared, “Head for your legions with all due speed. As all of our magicians and priests were dispatched to Crossing for some insane reason, we have only runners to communicate with one another. Stick to the plan as best as possible; when the Knights are smashed, then we will rush to support the forces facing the Harrowdale forces and destroy them in detail.”

“Just remind all of our troops there is to be no mercy or quarter shown, it is annihilation,” Rock-Hurler stated to all of them.

“We would have it no other way,” Chief Mauler Monde declared as he departed.

The other chiefs agreed with him as they left for their legions command posts.

₰​

Dame Foxglove grinned as the latest assault fell back in complete disarray. To both sides of her position archers fired salvo after salvo of arrows, the shafts multiplied into many identical copies which reaped another harvest of death upon their foes. Finally, the enemy was out of range and orders were shouted up and down the lines to conserve ammunition; everyone knew – from Dame Foxglove to the lowest private – that the enemy was far from finished.

“Thank goodness we had available the ‘Arrow Swarm’ spells of Snow Cats. Now I can see why her magical bow is so bloody efficient in battles such as this,” Dame Foxglove declared to her aides. “Move two auxiliary companies to the center-left of our lines. We have maybe a half-hour before the next frontal assault begins…”

Horns sounded and drums beat, orders were shouted, and war cries carried over the hills as the enemy struck at their positions. Second by second the cacophony of sound increased as blade met blade, spell salvos crushed and mauled entire enemy companies, and told of real trouble on the left flank of her formation.

“Blast it, we’ve been outflanked,” Dame Foxglove shouted and ordered half of her reserves to reinforce the left. At the same time horns sounded to the front of her forces and two full scale assaults were launched. “Keep one company here in reserve,” she said to her aide-de-camp, “have the rest come with me and we will sweep into the enemy flank from our right,” she pointed to a gap between two of the hills, “that is where their push is headed for…time to ensure it goes away for good.”

She raced off with the reserves and found a regiment or more of orcs and goblins had already entered the gap. In a heartbeat, she and her fellow magicians unleashed a salvo of death as fireballs, lightning bolts, clouds of acid and poison smoke turned the gap into a charnel house for the dead. When the archers joined in moments later, the regiment disintegrated, as did the second and third ones who tried to force the gap and entered into a perfect killing ground…

Not one of the enemy forces escaped the wrath of Dame Foxglove and her troops.

​

₰​

In Ashabenford, capital of Mistledale, High Lord Cronus and his military commanders watched the first moves of the Ten-Lake battle with keen interest. Before them hovered a golden-silver field of light which displayed all information they had on forces, dispositions and movements, plus other esoteric lore of interest to them. One by one they saw the trap set for Master Roerich, and wondered when, where, and how hard he would counter it.


“Have no doubts my commanders,” High Lord Cronus declared, “Master Roerich and his demonic friends will find their way clear of the trap, turn it upon Caesar and then systematically destroy his army completely. At the least we have managed to lure their sky-drakes and other aerial forces away to Crossing.”

“Watch and learn my commanders,” Cronus said as he indicated the ongoing battle, “this is the force we shall soon face in battle. Essembra will fall before Roerich makes it to Crossing, and by then we may have others of the dales allied with us. A new era has come to the dales, one that will have us united as a true kingdom for all of time…”

The court members and commanders of High Lord Cronus broke out into a round of cheers at his proclamation.

They would have quaked in their boots if they understood that another dynamic force had entered the grand game of chess Cronus and Roerich played. For in the kingdom to the north, among the ancient woods, a request from an old friend of the elven court has been heard and answered, an answer of “Yes.”

₰​

Master Roerich watched with admiration how Snow Cat handled her Battle-titan mount. She rode one as if born to the saddle and effortlessly adjusted her pose to meet each sway and stride, each leap and turn the great beast made. Unfortunately he felt like a sack of potatoes being reduced to fine paste and powder as his borrowed mount “Belly Ripper” demonstrated a love for leaping from boulder to boulder; something that caused no end of humor to Snow Cat and their small escort.

He spotted a company of ogres and giants as they emerged into a small clearing, and as the first escort shouted a warning, leveled his staff and unleashed its fury upon them. Two great blasts of lightning arced from one ogre and giant unto the next and claimed five-score of their numbers; then the remainder fled before the charge of twenty Battle-titans hungry for blood and battle.

The sudden tempest of light and sound to his side caught Roerich off guard. He turned and caught the grin of Snow Cat as she pointed to her side; the remains of a dozen beetle-beasts who walked like men sizzled and smoldered from the storm of acid which claimed them. He nodded in approval and smiled at her, which she returned in full measure…

“We have less than a half mile to that high ridge you indicated Master Roerich,” Sergeant Daniel stated, “figure about five more minutes and you can do your magic-stuff. Hopefully we will not have much opposition on the ridge…”

“Same here good Sergeant,” Roerich said as he leveled his staff as five massive, muscle-bound, six-armed, blue-gray skinned, frog-headed beast that emerged before them. He shouted a word of power and a fist-sized sphere of darkness struck the closest beast and erased it from the cosmos. “Someone could easily grow bored with the opposition we have so far faced.”

He grinned at the slack-jawed Sergeant as the group passed the four other slain beasties – a single arrow lodged to the fletching in their eyes. “Snow Cat has her own way of settling such matters…” he said with a laugh.

₰​

Sir Robinson watched as the Knights of Essembra advanced across the plains at a fast trot. Their Battle-titans ate up twenty feet with each stride and roared and growled as the great beasts anticipated the fight to come; and Robinson understood their desires, for he had twice failed his command in the field, and wanted to wash away that stain on his honor in the blood of his enemies.

Master Roerich had magically dispatched orders for the Knights and their auxiliaries to link up with the reserve units under Dame Winter-glove. With those forces Sir Robinson was to push forward and strike into the flanks of the enemy Dame Fox-glove faced. A sound plan, save that a messenger arrived minutes later and indicated that Dame Fox-gloves position was in danger of collapse unless help arrived in time.

“Sir Robinson,” the messenger declared, “Dame Fox-glove needs reinforcements within the half-hour if it can be done. Two legions of the enemy have been shattered, and a third mauled, but her local reserves have been fully committed. One more large scale assault will overrun their positions.”

Thus began a heated argument between him and Dame Lae’lion. He had begun to order the Knights to race as one unit, leaving behind the auxiliaries, to aid Dame Fox-glove; to his surprise Lae’lion demanded that if they had to divide, then a smaller unit of the Knights advance while the rest linked up with Dame Winter-glove and then pushed forward.

“Sir Robinson, this is the best we can do if you choose to divide the Knights. The non-mounted auxiliaries here and with Dame Winter-glove have to be shielded by the Knights; or do you wish to see battle so bad that you will risk having them slaughtered in detail?” Dame Lae’lion had demanded of him, and she had held nothing back.

The two of them had argued with one another until Robinson, enraged as he never had been before, pulled his blade out of its scabbard and nearly challenged his second-in-command to a duel of honor. Only the look of pain and a friendship forever lost, shared between them, ceased his challenge and he sheathed his blade, then nodded and agreed to Lae’lion’s plan.

So it is that he and his unit of Knights continued to race to save Dame Fox-glove and her troops…he hoped they got there in time to join in a glorious battle…

₰₰ One hundred nine ₰₰​

Master Roerich stood on the high ridge and smiled as he beheld the three legions encamped between the lakes. It disgusted him that such a perfect picture, great forests and regions of white snow between steaming waters of crystal blue was marred by the presence of the orcs and their allies. For him, it was just one more reason the brutes deserved extermination.

He dismounted from his Battle-titan and handed the reins over to a member of his escort. Snow Cat called him over to one side and pointed towards the horizon, and to the sight of three legions on the move. “So it was a trap after all; the Knights and Dame Winter-glove have avoided being caught in the jaws, and will help out Dame Fox-glove. Here, we can wreck six legions between the two of us…” he said to Snow Cat who shook her head in disbelief at the size of the enemy host.

“Do you remember what I taught you Snow Cat?” Roerich asked, long used to facing massed armies and using his magic to utterly crush them. He put a hand on her shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze, “Snow Cat, we have to do this now while both groups are in place.”

“Okay lets do it then,” Snow Cat said, unaccustomed to such carnage as she and Roerich planned to unleash. Even the two times she has cast the ‘Draconic Holocaust’ will pale in comparison. “I have to do this from here or the effects may be off-center, and allow one or two of the legions to survive.”

“Do it then, we have no time to lose,” Roerich said to her as he marched off to do his own mighty magic.

“Sergeant Daniel,” Roerich stated, “have the men watch for any enemies who may be close by. Other than that, have them keep silent and do not disturb us unless it’s a matter of our life and death.”

The sergeant nodded and ordered the escort to spread out as Roerich and Snow Cat reached into their mystical reserves and channeled it into the magic they cast. Moment by moment, thread by thread, the magic of the world bent and twisted to conform to their wishes and desires, until it became a whirlwind of lights and ghostly images that danced around Roerich and Snow Cat.

Sergeant Daniel and his detail felt their hair stand on end and goosebumps form as they watched the storm of magic dance around their wards. “To command such might, I wonder if I could have been a magician such as they are?” he said to no one in particular.

₰​

Master Roerich felt a portion of his mind extend deep into the earth as he sought out the great regions of stone that ground one against the other. Deeper and deeper he roamed as he followed the narrowest of fissures unto a region that growled and groaned, dynamic forces slept in an uneasy balance, as they waited for their time to wake and unleash their full force upon the world so far above.

Master Roerich had need of those dynamic forces here and now, and not in the distant future. So it was he used the gathered magic to unlock the balance of stone on stone and set into motion an amplified holocaust of his own devising…

Once fully back together in his body, Roerich grinned as he felt through his feet the first signs of the earth shock to come. “Nothing like the magic of ‘Epicenter’ to completely ruin an enemy armies day,” he said to himself.

₰​

Sergeant Daniel and his men watched the enemy encampment and wondered for a time what went wrong with the spell cast by Master Roerich. Then the first deep, resonating growl arrived from the depths of the planet; the hallmark roar and groans of stone being torn asunder and about to unleash horror upon the surface world.

“Look there Sergeant” called out one of the younger Knights, “the lakes, they are boiling…”

Sergeant Daniel looked upon the scene in wide-eyed terror as all three lakes writhed and boiled by the immense tectonic forces ascended from below. Great columns of superheated steam climbed into the air and clouds of poisonous smoke rolled at immense speed across the enemy encampment; screams and shouted orders flooded across the distance until the noise from below drowned it out as the ground tore itself asunder.

Immense ripples flowed from the center of the enemy encampment and collapsed field defenses, tents and other fortified structures. Hillsides and great outcroppings of stone sundered and collapsed, the very ground liquefied and opened up in massive rifts of volcanic fire and brimstone. Not one trace of the enemy encampment could be seen amidst the chaotic morass of smoke, steam and hellish forces unleashed.

“My stars Master Roerich,” Sergeant Daniel said, overwhelmed by the utter savage beauty he had beheld with his own eyes. “To command such power and use it with such ease…” he said until he noted that Roerich leaned heavily on his staff, utterly drained and exhausted.

“Just understand something Sergeant, with such power comes great responsibility and accountability,” Roerich declared, “each of these magic spells I or Snow Cat use demand great skill, and sometimes a portion of our very vitality.” He turned to where his wife stood and nodded as her own spell neared completion.

“Say goodbye to another two or three legion…” he said as the magic roared to life.

₰​

Dame Winter-glove watched as the enemy legion retreated, shattered, and left a field of dead and dying in their wake. “So much death and carnage, we almost lost this fight,” she said to no one in particular.

“Too close, that one was way too close,” Dame Winter-glove stated as the Knights of Essembra under Dame Lae’lion pressed their Battle-titan formations hard into the enemy. The Knights scattered them to the four winds for all of time.

She exhaled and leaned upon a boulder to keep her exhausted body from falling to the ground, up and down the line people called for healers, water and cried out as a loved one or friend passed from the world.

“Dame Winter-glove, are you alright?” a voice asked of her as a mailed hand touched her on the shoulder. She startled and then giggled as she realized she had fallen sound asleep.

“Yes Dame Lae’lion, I’m alright thanks to the prompt arrival of you, the Knights and your auxiliaries,” Dame Winter-glove stated with a tired smile. “We walked right into an ambush as we shifted positions to a more defensible ground. Unfortunately the enemy already occupied that land and walloped us but good. I still have to see how badly my losses have been…” she shook her head and gasped as she saw a healer attending her aide-de-camp and oldest friend Dame Jennifer shake his head and pull a blanket over her shattered body.


Lae’lion held onto Winter-glove as the most iron-willed and determined of women ever seen in the world broke down and cried. Too much pain and death had completely overwhelmed her this day, and Dame Lae’lion was not sure if Winter-glove would recover her composure for some time.

Lae’lion summoned two of her men to help Winter-glove and wondered to herself, “How many more good people will we wind up losing before this expedition is finished? How many more will be broken completely and never recover in mind or soul?”

As much as she wanted, nay desired to, stay and help her friend she had to rapidly gather the reserve formation survivors, and push on to aid Dame Foxglove. “Sir’s and Dame’s,” she said to her fellow Knights, “we need to get the auxiliaries and the remaining Knights moving at once, Dame Foxglove and Sir Robinson are depending on us…”

That was when the last reserve legion of the enemy attacked with full force, determined to destroy the remains of Dame Winter-gloves contingent.

Within a half-hour that last legion had been shattered completely, not one enemy had dared retreat and many had fought to the death in small groups and ones or twos, back to back, until none remained. A messenger arrived at that time from Dame Fox-glove and explained to Dame Lae’lion that their fight had at last ended and one question remained: Where in the blazes is Sir Robinson?

₰​

Master Roerich, Snow Cat and their escorts watched as the magic she unleashed called forth the volcanic fury from where the three lakes had been only minutes ago. Columns of magma shifted, flowed, climbed and became man-like forms between ten and thirty feet in height; hundreds of them advanced from the fire pits and moved upon the three enemy legions she had targeted.

Commonly called ‘Elemental legion,’ the magic of Snow Cat had been perfected to an unprecedented degree; as two legions emerged from the volcanic rifts. Platoons formed and linked into companies, companies merged to become battalions and battalions into regiments; then the regiments silently commenced to march on the foes designated by Snow Cat.

Snowdrifts and ice-covered ponds and streams melted, sizzled and steamed as the beings of earth and fire marched with relentless determination. Three times as fast as a man they covered the short distance in less than five minutes, and breached the first legions formations in five more; no solid defenses were possible by the orcs and ogres and giants, as even the mighty Furnace-drakes among them succumbed to the blows of immortal beings unaffected by stone or fires of hellish proportions.

Still, the legions held fast to the ground they occupied and their morale did not shatter until the third and final legion was torn asunder. Of the orc and ogres and giants who bolted for safety, fewer than three companies of their numbers escaped; for all intensive purposes, the army of the late Caesar has been annihilated.


Roerich watched as the last of the Elemental legion dissipated into nothingness, the magic having run its course. “Come on then, we have to head back to where Dame Fox-glove is located,” he told the escort and a weary Snow Cat as she staggered over to his side, “her battle is over and the legions she faced are destroyed, as are two others who attacked the Knights of Essembra and our reserves under Dame Winter-glove. Marcus and Hanna are with them now.”

Snow Cat looked at him and wondered what he was holding back, “What else is there, tell me here and now…” she demanded of him. She shook her head at the news of Sir Robinson’s disappearance.

₰​

Dame Fox-glove looked upon Sir Robinson with absolute contempt and anger. It was a sentiment shared by most of her command for the leader of the Knights of Essembra. “Where in the blazes were you Robinson? Why did it take you half a blasted day to cover only a couple of miles, a half of a day when too many of my command perished one after another?” she demanded of him.

“Dame Fox-glove, I will not tolerate that degree of insult from anyone…” Sir Robinson said to her, enraged at the all too true accusations contained in her words. He growled and drew his sword, and lifted it to lunge at her and strike her down in one blow. His bared hand tightened around the hilt with such a fierce grip his skin turned white from the effort, and he saw the world through a wall of pure red rage.

“Go ahead Sir Robinson,” Dame Fox-glove said as she drew her own slender elven blade which glowed with eldritch forces. She brought it into a crossed-guard position before her, and stated, “Go ahead and strike one who had so offended you with the truth. Understand this much, you move that blade at me and you will die.”

“I have two-score of Knights with me Dame Fox-glove,” Sir Robinson said as he trembled in pure rage, “they can strike down all of you before you can say one word. All I have to do is give one order and…” he quit as he felt cold steel draw upon both sides of his neck.

“Mister Robinson,” said Sir Larch, “you have violated every tenant and article and oath of the order of the Knights of Essembra. Now I must do my duty and defend those who rightfully have brought accusations against you. Hand over your sword hilt first or we will slay you here and now if you make a hostile move.”

Robinson surrendered his sword and shield, and removed all of his armor so that his fellow Knights could bind him wrist and ankle to his Battle-titan. He lowered his head in shame as it fully occurred to him he had failed all of his fellow Knights and the very oaths and code of conduct he has pledged to support.

“Dame Fox-glove, Mister Robinson will be taken back before Master Roerich, as he leads the expedition, and the rest of the fellow Knights.” Sir Larch continued, “He will be tried before us all and if found guilty of his crimes, dismissed from the order and left in the wilderness to be judged by the gods to see if he can redeem his honor.”

Dame Fox-glove sheathed her blade and bitterly asked of Sir Larch, “What held you all up? Why the delays that cost us so many good people, please just tell me why?”


“Sad to say Dame Fox-glove, but we had to ‘detour’ several times around small bands of orcs and ogres,” Sir Larch stated. His words were affirmed by all of his fellow Knights. “These bands were less than a dozen each and we could have ridden through them with no problems, and we got lost five times in a row, even when these hills were plainly visible as was the enemy.”

“I did my best…” Robinson started to say, then hushed as all the Knights and their Battle-titans turned their backs upon him, telling all that as far as they are concerned, he no longer existed.

“I did my best…” he muttered time and again, knowing all the while in his heart he had become a craven coward who broke under the strain of command. Not one of the Knights paid the least attention to their now former commander as the man began to sob and cry over all he had lost due to his actions.

₰​

“Have we any word on the southern forces?” Snow Cat asked of Master Roerich as they and their escort rode at a fast gait to link up with the expedition’s forces. Her Battle-titan mount snorted and shook its head as they crossed one scene of battle after another, and concluded that the Knights and the reserve formations had fought at least one pitched battle.

“Nothing that I am aware of Snow Cat,” Roerich said as he looked around at the carnage his side had wrought among the enemy. He determined the better part of two enemy legions had fought and been shattered; there were no sign of the expeditions dead or injured, which told all he needed to know – they won the fight and had taken their soldiers with them.

“I hope nothing bad has occurred,” Snow Cat said with a shudder as she felt as if someone had stepped upon her grave. “Even as skilled and determined as they are in battle, Badgers forces are few, and are outnumbered by nearly seventy-to-one. I learned about such fighting when Archendale forces and I, Hanna and Marcus pulled this group into the trap…”

“Hold up everyone and catch your breath,” Master Roerich stated as he moved up alongside Snow Cat. “Snow Cat, understand something. You did all you could under the circumstances and did it well; all of you volunteered to do the impossible and it occurred…”

“Yes, but like with Broken-bridges the wolf-were’s fought to hold the key region, and I came along to aid them in the battle,” Snow Cat declared. “That won’t be the case today if anything goes wrong…”

“Welcome to my world Snow Cat,” Master Roerich declared, “I know you have led small armies of elves and of the Dalefolks. This is probably my thirty-seventh campaign, and it never gets easier. Only the dying stays the same…lets get going…”

With that Master Roerich, Snow Cat and their escort double-timed it to rejoin their forces.

₰₰ One hundred ten ₰₰​

“Come on, fall back to the next hills, we have their attention,” Badger said as he and a handful of archers fired off two final volleys of arrows at the enemy legions. He hesitated for a moment to watch the last volley land in the enemy formations, who had assumed a ‘turtle-shell’ defense of overlapped shields, which fully deflected the arrows.

Badger bolted as fast as he could, leaping from rock to rock and across a wide, shallow stream as salvo after salvo of arrows rained down around him. He reached the hilltops with moments to spare, for the first orc-kin skirmishers were just behind him; a volley from hidden archers sent the skirmishers howling into the next world and cut down the second and third ranks behind them.

Badger grinned until he spotted the second and third legions circling the hill from the left and the right, and he knew in his gut that his little band had been surrounded. A quick search spotted one small gap that remained, and he decided it was now or never for Captain Laurence to be warned…and the rest of them would make the enemy forces pay dearly for this small plot of land.

“So be it then,” he declared with the calmness of one who knows the last battle is upon him, “I need our three fastest runners to beat feet back to Captain Laurence.”

Three volunteers ran up and waited for his words that they are to deliver. “One of you has to make it through, we will buy you what time we can and hold the gap open for as long as possible. Tell Captain Laurence this message…” He detailed out the warning to be given and the strength of the legions. The key note that Badger emphasized twice was that the enemy had abandoned their supply train just hours ago. That abandonment of the major source of supplies spoke volumes of the enemy plan – all out assault with victory or death as the only two outcomes.

Badger sent the three on their way as his men engaged more orc-kin and ogre-kin with deadly arrow shots, until orc-kin master archers sniped at him and his men from under cover. They felled a score or so in the next few seconds as everyone dove for shelter behind stone or tree. No one dared to move, and sometimes to even breathe as arrows pierced wood and hard stone, the magical venom on each tip hissed and steamed.

“Blast them all,” Badger stated as he heard the enemy forces assemble and begin to advance. The enemy snipers pulled back and horns commenced to sound, a resonating roar that all the wolf-were’s felt to the core of their bones. Instead of causing them to cower and quake in fear, it enraged them to unprecedented levels, their eyes glowing white hot in anger.

Badger picked up his war hammer and called to his men, “Captain Laurence and his guards need time to prepare for battle, and we are cut off completely my warriors. The enemy is all around us and we shall stand here, until the last falls. I declare this hill to be death ground,” his warriors howled as their chief enacted the final call to do their duty to one another, “make your ancestors who watch and smile upon us as proud as you can. We will be a legend for generations to come.”

“When I give the order, follow me in the charge to glory and fear for nothing, as when the fiend of blood around you changes into a paradise of wheat and barley to your left and right, and the great warrior hall stands before you with its lodge door open; you will know that you have passed from this life unto the next,” Badger said and grinned, “so don’t mess up or I will come back and kick your tail across the planet for ruining my meal in the warrior halls of Valhalla.”


“Who wants to live forever my chief,” one of the wolf-were’s said to Badger with a grin, and then he howled a long, low, powerful cry that shook the enemy ranks to the cores of their souls.

“Indeed, my warriors, who wants to live forever,” Badger said as he took the lead position of his troops.

He lifted his hammer and shouted, “CHARGE!!!”

So it was that Badger and around five-score of his warriors charged down the hillside and tore into the ranks of enemy orc-kin and ogre-kin. So savage was the onslaught the first regiment disintegrated almost instantly, with the second to fall five minutes later. The warriors held nothing back and fought on as brave and relentless as the legendary Samurai of the far-eastern kingdoms; many sustained repeated blows that would slay an ogre or a giant outright before succumbing at last to their injuries.

One by one the sheer weight of numbers wore down the warriors of Badger, and the five-score soon became three-score in count, then two-score and four. These warriors formed a circular formation and fought with such tenacity that even the most fanatical and fearless orc and ogre shook their heads in admiration; for each one took down three to five-score of their enemy before death claimed them.

The very last to fall was Badger himself, enraged beyond anything and in a full berserker fury he charged the strongest group of orcs and ogres. Eight-score of orcs and ogres, two-score of giants, three great Forest Wyrms and a dozen Furnace Drakes went into the night ahead of him, as he was finally dragged down under sheer weight of numbers and finished off.

Yet so powerful of an impression had this last stand left on the wolf-were’s foes, not one of their dead were looted, only gathered up and buried under a high cairn of stone and earth. On the top of it, a lone orc placed the hammer of Badger, a testimony to his fighting prowess for the world to see.

₰​

Captain Laurence looked over the remains of the enemy and shook his head in disbelief. Badgers messengers had arrived and delivered their messages, and enough time had been bought by Badger for the encampment to be prepared.

Yet it had been a close fight, with the legions of Corinthian massed in wave after wave after wave of assault that provided no relief for the defenders. The outermost defenses crumbled in less than an hour, and the innermost threatened to do so inside two more, despite the carnage wrought on orc-kin and ogre-kin and monsters by blade and spell; then Laurence committed the Battle-Briar, the great living siege-machine to the battle, and discovered that many more had come along with it: the great beasts slammed into the enemy legions and routed each one in short order, and then turned the route into a slaughter in which one orc or ogre in a thousand escaped from.

“We won Captain Laurence,” Sergeant Kenneth declared, a wicked smile of pure delight on his face. He had scored nearly thirty kills that day and hungered for more. “When do we go after the rest and pay them in blood for their audacity…” he shut up at the hard look Councilman Justinian gave him as the man walked over to speak with Laurence.


“Captain, I have to report that my diplomatic guard took some losses,” Justinian said, “Councilman Brenner is dead, and thirty soldiers dead, along with five magicians. Pearl is among them, one of the Furnace Drakes got her when she held a breach in the innermost defenses; I seen her take down three of the beasts with her magic and then wield a sword to take down one more before the fifth crushed her in its jaws.”

“Pearl is gone,” Sergeant Kenneth declared, unable to believe his comrade-in-arms could die so easily, “please tell me you are joking Councilman Justinian…” and he ceased to speak when the man confirmed what had occurred to her and the others. “Pearl, gone…just like that…” Kenneth said, and shook his head.

“Captain Laurence,” asked a musical voice from a band of hooded men, each carried a longbow of fabulous and unearthly beauty, as they approached. “I’m sorry we did not get here fast enough to aid in the outer defenses, we could have made a difference….”

“Prince Wild Oak,” Captain Laurence said to the gentleman who spoke to him a moment before, “you and your guard represented only thirty-five elves against thousands. Even at the innermost defenses all of you took down over three regiments of orc-kin and ogre-kin. It’s little wonder Snow Cat spoke of you to Roerich with such respect, I had heard of the ability of elves to wield a bow, but until today, never understood how little the tales told of your real skills…”

“Believe it or not Captain Laurence,” declared another elf, “Snow Cat can outshoot Prince Wild Oak and even his father as well. But now its time we do what has to be done: bury the dead and remember our friends and comrades who have perished. They gave everything for us, and we must ensure that their sacrifices are not in vain. High Lord Cronus must be stopped, and the first companies of our army will be here in a few days, which should make Countess Snow Cat happy.”

“Right now Prince Wild Oak, I’ll be happy for any good news,” Laurence said, “for once this expedition is over, I intend to retire to somewhere in the Dales and give up warfare. I have seen far too much of it for my liking. Now if you will all excuse me, I have to get a message to Master Roerich detailing all that happened here and with Badger as soon as Reaper returns…hopefully with some good news…”

₰₰ One hundred eleven ₰₰​

That afternoon Master Roerich and the expedition leaders gathered for an impromptu meeting. He listened with keen interest as to how each stage of the battle went. “Our casualties are heavy indeed, but most of our units still remain intact at the company levels,” Roerich said, “the fact is we did win the battle against foes superior in training, tactics and sheer numbers. We have done it here and are going to need to do it again; remember we still have the two armies – north and south of us, to deal with.”

“Our scouts and strong raiding parties are harassing the army advancing from the south-east, and have reported that the north-east approaching army has begun to retreat.” Show Cat shook her head to clear out the cobwebs present from her exhaustion. “They are already crossing the Three-tributaries via magically constructed bridges a good distance away from the Heartland River Expeditions encampment. We will face them once we cross the tributaries and have to be prepared for more hard fighting…”

“And we still have to deal with the remaining army in the field, which means another seven or more legions we will have to clash against,” Dame Fox-glove said. “Snow Cat my dear, could this be part of High Lord Cronus’s grand strategy? Wear us down one part at a time, keep the pressure upon us and make it appear as if one army has turned rabbit while he brings extra reinforcements to the region north of the tributaries?’

“It’s possible, but we have to still deal with the other army…” Snow Cat stopped speaking when a runner came into the tent and passed on a letter to Master Roerich. Her trepidation grew as she saw him blanch and shudder as he read the note, then he handed it to her as he turned to face the others.

“The other army has struck hard at our encampment,” Master Roerich said, “their commander, one identified as Corinthian, pushed forward all of his troops after abandoning his supply train. They overwhelmed Badger and his men, Reaper has confirmed they fought hard to delay the advancing legion and fell to a man.” He pauses as Dame Lae’lion choked and softly sobbed.

“They took nearly two legions with them, and allowed the forces at the encampment to prepare and repel the remaining enemy forces. The southern army has been shattered for good, though we have paid a heavy price for it…there was an unexpected boon that Captain Laurence found out when our new ally made its…”

“WHAT! You have to be kidding!” Snow Cat shouted out as she reached a specific portion of the note.

“Why did you not tell me we had a battalion of Battle-Briars on our side? Or is this, plus the ‘Elemental Chaos’ storm barrier Laurence unleashed another thing you forgot to tell me about?” Snow Cat demanded of Roerich as she advanced upon him, her ears flared backwards and waves of draconic anger pulsating from her being.

“Whoa there Snow Cat, whoa,” Roerich said as he backed up in haste, “I only knew of the one you and me found in the woods, how was I suppose to know it was some kind of ‘chief of the plant world’ or such a thing as I never dreamed existed.”

Snow Cat stopped her advancement on him, and shook her head in total embarrassment. “Someday I will learn never to overestimate how strange my luck is in this world. Sorry for the outburst everyone, but I think we need to pull back to the encampment as soon as we can, or at least dispatch any companies that can travel at once…” she shook her head again, “Never mind, those massive siege-machines called Battle Briars will keep the place and all within its walls safe.”



She chuckled at the thought of what one Battle-Briar, let alone an entire battalion of them, could do. Each one is a magically-created, sentient-plant with six great gorilla-legs, a lion-shaped body that writhed with living vines and thorn-like projections around its sides, back and limbs. Though its wood-like hide appeared vulnerable, in fact it is stronger and tougher than the armored hide of Marcus; few things could pierce it, let alone inflict any lasting damage on its vital organs.

Each one possessed a formidable inhuman intellect and savage cunning which made them greater adversaries than most beings would expect.

Sixteen-inch claws tougher than magical blades would reap incredible wounds, but the worst assault they could conduct was a massive volley of thorns hurled out to 100-yards or more. Each thorn could pierce solid plate armor or steel shields, stone to twelve inches and tear flesh apart: if that did not kill its victims, then the toxic brew of poisons would, often bringing death in mere moments.

Legends speak of one or two small Battle-Briars flattening entire castles or tearing apart battalions of troops. And Snow Cat had rejoiced when one had been found, tamed and brought to the defense of the encampment. Now to have a battalion of the things, a force over three hundred in count, added to the expedition, was good news indeed.

“Good news indeed,” Snow Cat said as she heard someone ask, “Where is Sir Robinson, he has a lot to answer for after he left Dame Fox-glove and her troops on her own…”

Snow Cat watched Dame Lae’lion pass by and head for Robinsons tent. “I’ll go get him Snow Cat,” Dame Lae’lion stated, determined to have this mess with Robinson over with once and for all.

₰​

“Blast it to Hades Robinson,” Dame Lae’lion said as she called out for Robinson yet again. Stony silence is all that responded to her entreaty. She clenched her fist as her anger surged to the surface, and she then pushed her way into the tent, determined to knock her old commander out cold and drag his carcass before the others to answer for his deeds…

She gasped at the sight of his magnificent armor and sword lay to one side and a small table knocked over, a lone wax-sealed scroll on the ground next to it. Then she spotted his crumpled body, clad in a fine silk robe that was stained in his blood, his hands still clasped the slim blade that he had impaled into his ribcage.

Dame Lae’lion shook her head in denial and began to cry, “Why my friend, tell me why? Why did you choose to go this rout? Just tell me why?” she failed to notice Snow Cat and a handful of the Knights come into the tent and rush over to Robinson to see if he still could be saved. Lae’lion already knew the horrible truth: not only had the blade been placed to thrust into his heart, but the magical poison would kill in seconds and prevent any magic from returning him to life.

She picked up the sealed scroll and opened it, then gasped as she read the all too brief contents:


Dame Lae’lion,

I write this to you as a final statement of my failure as the commander and member of the Knights of Essembra. I have manifestly lost all claims for mercy and honor in having dared to challenge your rightful claim on the field of battle. I failed to see the trap set for us at the battle of the five hills, repeatedly allowed my anger and temper to become manifest in a manner unbecoming of a Knight, and especially as a Knight Captain.

Then, there upon the field when I had been ordered to take the Knights to the reserves and then move with all due haste to assist Dame Fox-glove, I failed all of you again. My eyes saw the size of the enemy before us and I felt my own will and morale shatter. It was as if some fear manifest in my own soul came forward and crushed my heart and made me into a coward that I never knew I truly was. Any enemy that appeared, no matter how large or small of numbers, caused me to hesitate and thus cost many their lives that should have lived.

So it is, as advised by the ghost of Badger who cursed and railed against me for letting him perish; he died in glorious combat, taking down enemies large and small without fear and without hesitation regardless of the odds, which is what I manifestly failed to do. I learned that in the world beyond such a man as me is simply called he-who-is-not-a-man, and heard the specter of doom that waits to escort me to my just punishment in the depths of Hades and beyond.

Even the shadows speak of ‘He who is the shadow of shaded nights’ that waits for me, and I see one who stands nearby, a gleaming gem in his hand.

And so it is my friend and former comrade-in-arms, I will leave this world and accept my punishment. I have the poison prepared on the blade and know how to thrust it home to ensure my demise.

Farewell -

Dame Lae’lion shook her head and cried. She cried for the loss of her oldest friend and commander, and cried for the loss of Badger, who had become a new love for her. She cried for the loss of a peaceful life she sought among the wolf-were’s once this expedition was ended, and cried ever more for the fact she had a command of her own, and had no idea how she would handle it.

“And even now I have begun to dream of dragons,” Lae’lion said, “and I don’t know what else to do…”

“It’s simple in a way Lae’lion,” Snow Cat said, for she had sensed her friend had discovered the truth of her heritage. “Dare to dream and dare to live those dreams. I still have problems reconciling the two halves of me with one another. I thought I had settled the matter, and have only discovered more confusion, questions and all too few answers. But if you want to talk about it, let me know…”

Dame Lae’lion nodded at Snow Cat, “I will, I promise that. Right now I have too many things to take care of with the Knights. I wonder if I will be able to lead them, or will I get them all killed?”

“Just do the best you can Lae’lion,” Snow Cat said, “I’ve made mistakes in warfare and had gotten people killed because of them. The rules of war are simple: train your people well to fight and survive, and understand that no matter how well trained, some will not come home again.”

“Great, just great,” Dame Lae’lion said, unsure if Snow Cat joked with her or not, then looked on as she picked up a scrap piece of parchment from the floor of the tent and read it….

₰​

From the shadows a lone figure listened to the conversations being conducted around Robinson’s tent, and then watched with feigned anger as his corpse was taken out on a blanket shrouded litter. Inward though he counted his fortunes, and made a note to contact High Lord Cronus of the death of Sir Roerich.

He grinned at the thought of how shocked Roerich will be, when, in short order, he will learn of the two bridges over the tributaries have been destroyed and the connecting tunnels collapsed. “Sometimes being a magician can be so much fun, one right dosage of poison and a Delver passes from this world. Then the bridges are gone and a minor earthquake collapses the supporting tunnels between the tributaries…”

“Oh well,” he stated, “at the least those other assassins may come in handy as distractions.”

All save for three of Cronus’s doppelganger assassins have perished, and those three are staying close to ground to avoid detection.

The strange man-who-is-not-a-man smiled and shook his head in dismay and disgust at the doppelganger’s bad acting. “Thankfully Cronus has enough wisdom to hire a true assassin such as me; an artist in the highest usage of the word. For I am not called a ‘wearer of the flesh’ for nothing,” he said to himself.

“Time to get on with business,” the man-who-is-not-a-man declared as he walked away, “as I have no desire to be fed to a Draco-lich.”

₰​

“What is it Snow Cat,” Dame Lae’lion asked as the healers among the Knights informed their order that there was nothing to do for Robinson. One healer covered the body with a blanket and sighed, fully aware that a great man had perished in a final act of atonement for his failures on the field of battle.

“It’s in Robinson’s hand writing, and look at what it says,” Snow Cat said in alarm as she handed it to Dame Lae’lion.

Dame Lae’lion read the brief note: - assassin, bespelled my body and struggled to seize my mind with his foul magic. He will return at any moment and try again. I have failed as a commander, may I be able to take him down with me to redeem my honor in death…

“He was killed?” Dame Lae’lion said, shocked and in complete horror of what she read in the note again and again. “Or is this a deception from High Lord Cronus and his agents to turn our expedition one upon another?”

“I don’t know Dame Lae’lion,” Snow Cat said, “but I intend to find out if I can.”

₰₰ One hundred twelve ₰₰​

High Lord Cronus looked at the plans and timetables for his armies march on Essembra. Step by step he went over each measured detail, asked important questions and prepared his own series of contingencies, for this was to be a quick, violent, and one-sided battle for that town, and the surrounding dale.

“Once we have Essembra, and by extension Battledale, in our grasp then we will have a solid position to take down the other Dales if the need arises,” Cronus declared. Essembra was the key to his grand strategy for one other reason: taking it would allow his forces to circle to Hap-tooth Hill, and then take the Heartland River Expedition from the North and the South. The battle of the Ten-Lakes and the expedition encampment had gone as expected – Corinthian and Caesar had been defeated, while Cyrus had been conniving enough to arrange for such a defeat and defected with his legions to join Cronus north of the tributaries.

Of course the small matter of him being offered up as sacrificial bait by Cronus is one detail that Cyrus had not been informed of. “Blast the fact that Snow Cat now controls the magical pathways near the tributaries. We will not be able to use them to move our armies in that region; yet neither can they move north of the tributaries by the same means, for I control those. Move and counter-move, a grand game of chess ultimately between me and Master Roerich, as it has been since the very beginning…”

“My generals attend,” called out High Lord Cronus, “tell me all the latest information we have concerning our foes in Essembra, the surrounding dales and especially of Master Roerich. My one best source of information in the expedition has discovered nobles from the elven kingdom have been meeting with Roerich, along with some in Essembra. One other report we need to have confirmed is that our old friend Umbra Death is gathering his own dragon flights to the east of Master Roerich’s position – and yes I know that is his domain, but if he decides to turn on us, or aid the Sisters of Essembra for some reason, then the flights of dragons inbound with the four Draco-liches may be negated by sheer weight of numbers…”

High Lord Cronus listened to report after report, new information being presented as many runners arrived and delivered their messages. His smile grew all the wider, the first legion he had dispatched along the magic paths between Mistledale and Battledale had arrived; with them the first foothold into the region had been secured without a struggle and five large caravans who struggled to pass through the winter snows fell to them. The list of goods and plunder promised more wealth existed in Essembra than Cronus had anticipated.

“Very good then,” Cronus said and mulled a matter over before he presented it to his generals, “the chance of the elven kingdom throwing its weight into the war with Essembra needs to be negated. Reinforce our first legion with a second by the end of the day, and dispatch with them the Umber Hulks, Shambling Mounds, Fire and Furnace Drakes and seven of our Gray Renderers. Also send the twenty or so squirrels-changed-to-Gray-Renderers for the psychological impact they will have; a good trick Brother Hart came up with, now we will use it one step better.”

“How are the recruiting efforts of the independent orc, ogre, goblin and giant tribes progressing around the region of Crossing?” Cronus asked and was pleased with the results. He knew the time was drawing nigh when he and Master Roerich and Snow Cat would face off, and decided that his own aerial forces needed to mount a massive raid to remind them of who they faced.



“My Generals,” Cronus began, “I want our sky-drakes and wyvern-riders dispatched to the encampment of the Heartland River Expedition at once. Commit everything to this raid, and they are to inflict as much damage as they can. Extra support will come from the river itself, for we have a few special allies who have arrived near the encampment two days past…”

Cheers rose from his commanders and the courtiers, and once again they knew that High Lord Cronus would lead them to ultimate victory over their enemies. “To High Lord Cronus, may he reign for a thousand years over the entire land of the Dales, the kingdoms of the Sea of Stars and even the elven kingdom to the north,” one of his generals called out. The rest took up the cheer as well, which pleased Cronus to no end.

₰​

No one noted the small, snow-white feathered owl with liquid silver-moonlight eyes that sheltered outside the great hall of High Lord Cronus. The owl listened to all that had been discussed and the plans which had been prepared, and then shook its head at the might bearing down on Essembra. Then the first owl turned its head to its companion, a strange owl whose feathers glistened with a deep liquid emerald-green, its eyes blazed with pure indignation and absolute rage.

“They dare to bring such beasts into my river? Though my kingdom? And they consider that I would side with Master Roerich in the coming war against High Lord Cronus?” the second owl asked of the first.

“What do you expect? High Lord Cronus has transformed since the last time I had seen him, and I suspect he has inherited the power and abilities of the late Night Shade. He is a Draco-were of exceptional power, and I hear rumors that he and Snow Cat are somehow linked by blood; though how such a noble girl as she could have spawn such as Cronus is beyond me…” the second owl, actually Owl of the Sisters of Essembra, asked of her companion.

“You need to say no more, I and my subjects will join you and the elves in Essembra when the time comes. Just call and we will be there. And mind you, I do not do this for the Sisters, or for the matter of us being dragons in a common cause…” here the second owl, none other than Umbra Death, scowled at Owl. “I do this out of a debt of honor I still owe to the late Brother Hart and for that matter Snow Cat and Marcus. After the battle and the end of High Lord Cronus we shall see what the future holds.”

Umbra Death soared into the air and headed southward to his kingdom. He said a final farewell to Owl and a promise of a day of such erotic bliss that she shuddered in anticipation, unable to believe a true dragon such as Umbra Death would be interested in her.

₰​

In the far northern mountains Snowflake watched the events in Essembra, Ashabenford and along the river-route with keen interest. She wondered with each day that passed just what kind of world her twins would be born into. No matter what, with the loss of Brother Hart, and the growth of Snow Cat into a formidable Draco-were in her own right, the old ways of the Dales were gone – as were Shadowdale and Daggerdale.

She wondered if Essembra and Battledale would be little more than charnel houses for the dead by the time this war of Cronus was finished.


The oath she had taken as a druid called upon her to stay above and beyond such matters of civilization, and out of respect and love for her lost Brother Hart, she would do just that. No matter how much it pained her, she had to stay out of it, especially until her twins had been birthed in a few months…

“Only a few more months my darlings…” Snowflake said as she rubbed her swollen belly, “then the two of you will be held in my arms and I will get to see you for the first time. I already hear you faintly within the song of all dragons, and know that your father’s presence is there as well, waiting for the day you can learn all he is and all that he accomplished.”

“I hear a new voice added to the song from within the expedition,” she said, “and know another Draco-were has awakened to her heritage. But unlike when I lost the leadership and respect of the Sisters of Essembra, and very rightfully lost it for my mistakes, I will not interfere directly or by manipulation of others. I can only hope that the ones I asked to join the efforts of both Owl and of Roerich and his friends will do so; and that they may become a secret edge granted unto them in the battles to come.”

₰​

Snow Cat woke with a start and shook her head to clear out the last heated nightmarish images she had dreamed about. The song of all dragons showed her a sequence of ancient battles. These battles were waged from the beginning of all creation, a time in which the dragons that arose fought for dominance; and to shape the world in accordance to their desires and will, a struggle still carried out by their descendents to this day.

So powerful were these primordial dragons that even the combined knowledge, power and magic of her spiritual progenitor Grinder, and the gifted abilities of Brother Hart that resided in her, paled as an ant to a elephant.

More and more these images haunted her dreams, wracked her soul and mind, and felt as if they desired to twist her very life essence to nefarious purposes.

She pulled her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs, “Blast it, I’m right back to where I began again for most of my life. I’m a cat-girl and a dragon, a Draco-were who had both worlds, and yet I am a creation of Night Shades unholy magic from before I and Marcus came into the world. I thought I had made my choice to be what I desire to be, and thus to be myself. But now between Brother Hart’s gift, and that of Grinder, I no longer am sure if my choices are my own or are influenced by their presence within me…’

“Damn you Brother Hart!” she screamed out, “Why did you have to give me all that ability and knowledge and top it off with the power of the Phoenix. Why did you do this to me, or did you desire me to ultimately become another guardian of the Dales and not to live my life as I want to live it? Or for that matter am I to drag Hanna and Marcus and Roerich along with me?”

She cried for some time and collapsed into the arms of Master Roerich who had been alerted to her scream of rage. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I thought I did my love, but I know longer know for sure; I dream of dragons and my place among them, but I no longer understand who I have become…” she said as the tears came in a cascade of sobs.

She did know one thing though, the answers she ultimately sought lay among the most distant origins of the song of all dragons…she must travel back to the first Force Dragon who ever lived, and see if she can find the answers there.

₰₰ One hundred thirteen ₰₰​

​

Master Roerich was so focused on his maps and notes that he failed to note the arrival of Snow Cat. Three times she called out to him, then a fourth and a fifth. Finally, frustration turned to infuriation, and she placed one hand upon his forehead…

BLAM!
BLAM!
BLAM!

The triple blast of thunderous noise had the desired effect upon Snow Cats husband…

Papers flew everywhere, the desk and chair overturned and Roerich fell over backwards, landed in a roll and came up in a half-crouch. His hands glowed with blue-white death prepared to rend and annihilate his assumed foe or assassin…

“I should have figured it would be you my darling,” Roerich said to Snow Cat. He released the accumulated magical forces to the winds and smiled at his dear wife. He knew though her fury was absolute for his lack of attention, as her liquid emerald-green eyes blazed with heavenly power and fire.

She placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot in pure fury. “Come on already, get up off the floor and let me tell you what Owl has transmitted. That is of course, unless you prefer to let a full scale aerial raiding force hit the encampment in the next couple of days…”

“Wait a moment, you mean that High Lord Cronus had decided to launch a massive raid? Even after what we did, smashed two of the armies who came after us, and he still is determined to commit?” Master Roerich said as Snow Cat nodded her head, the fury in her eyes and posture not the least bit dissipated.

“Yes he has, and it’s going to be a massive one. There are wyverns and drakes from the sky and a massive force of some kind coming from the river. I know the wolf-were tribes have infiltrated beyond the three tributaries, and I have alerted them,” Snow Cat declared. She looked defiantly at her husband, and all but dared him to try and countermand her orders to the wolf-were’s.

Roerich breathed a sigh of relief, “As usual, you anticipate and see the things I miss. That is one reason my dear lady, why I love you so very much.” He smiled, then tilted his head quizzically when he noticed her left ear twitched just so. That meant something bothered her, and badly at that.

“Snow Cat I need to ask you something,” Roerich said as he pulled himself up to his full height and moved to stand before her. “I’ve had the feeling something is bothering you more and more. And I am growing very concerned about it.” He stroked her cheek with one hand, “If you feel you cannot talk to me about it, please talk to someone, maybe Dame Lae’lion or even Hanna. Ever since Brother Hart perished in his battle against Night Shade I have seen you change and I want to help if I can.”

“I know I am only an old, eccentric, weather-beaten, dingbat-brained human,” this drew the first playful smile to Snow Cats face. “Thus I will never be able to understand the world you walk as a dragon and a cat-girl in one body and spirit. Even the song of all dragons I can only perceive faintly due to a distant ancestor who was a true dragon. I still love you as never before, and want to help, yet I feel so utterly useless compared to who and what you are; I fear I will someday lose you to some higher calling and thus my world will shatter completely…”


Snow Cat took his hand into hers and firmly pressed them to her cheek. She closed her eyes, and caressed both hands with her cheek as her ears slowly eased back. She moved against her husband’s body and held her free arm around his back as he did the same in return. Her anger dissipated to the four winds as she felt the heat of his body; heard and felt each beat of his heart and the surge of his blood, the gentle warmth of his breath played on her neck as he leaned in and kissed her.

“Roerich I have no intention of leaving you, ever,” she said unto him.

“I hope so Snow Cat, but I understand how choices can be forced upon us,” Roerich said, “and every time I see you go into battle or on the hunt, I have to wonder if you will come back to me alive and unhurt. But know one thing up front,” he kissed her on the neck and drew a shudder from her body as her tail caressed his calf and a more intimate area a moment later, “I will never hold you back unless you tell me to do so. You are capable of doing so much, as is Marcus and Hanna, that I trust you three to do as a matter needs to be done.”

“Thank you, Roerich,” she said to him, “I needed to hear that. My dreams are being haunted more and more by things of darkness from within the song, and I am getting little enough rest. I can shut out the song for a short time, but it leaves me feeling hollow save for a second voice that calls to me from within…” she hesitated for a moment, and decided the time was not right to tell her husband of the Phoenix gifted to her by Brother Hart.

“It’s nothing to worry about though,” she said as Roerich gently stroked her snow-white amber-highlighted hair with their entwined hands. She shuddered as he kissed her above each brow and then on one ear. Then his hand on her lower back touched just the right spot, she inhaled deeply and all but melted into his body as a wave of raw heat and passion erupted across her entire being.

He pressed his hands up under her shirt and caressed each sensuous spot she possessed. Twitches became soft coos as she pressed her leg up between his, her tail softly flicked against his hip. Then his hands ‘strayed’ down the back of her britches and reached that most mysterious portion of all women, and began to work their magic.

Roerich smiled as Snow Cat clenched him in a iron-hard bear hug and pressed ever harder into his body, until the two wound up against the wagons wall. Moment by moment their dance continued, a communion of mind and body, of man and wife, of lover and lover. Nirvana opened its gates wide for the fulfillment of their desires, which promised to be intense as Snow Cat began to purr; she struggled to still passion-filled screams that tried to erupt from the depths of her being.

Then, as usual, there arrived the perfectly timed annoyance of a fist that pounded on the wagon door. “Master Roerich I demand you come out at once and speak with us merchants, we have many problems to deal with while you play around with your cat-girl…”

Roerich snapped his fingers twice, and then smiled as the thirty-odd count of merchants outside the wagon door wound up covered with mounds of refuse and rotten fruit and vegetables. “That will teach them to leave me be when I want to spend time with my wife…” his exasperation grew when another, gentler and polite knock came to the door. “Yes what is it or do I have to unleash a firestorm or two on the lot of you idiots?” he roared.

“Master Roerich, if you are not too busy in the near future may I have the opportunity to speak with you,” asked High Vale Councilman Justinian.


Snow Cat softly pounded her head on Roerich’s chest and said to him, “Go and get this over with, and if time permits, when this raid planned by Cronus is done, we can spend a full evening together again. Say in one of those magical palaces you created for us?”

“I promise that Snow Cat,” Roerich said, “or something better if I can do so.”

“Just be quick about it,” Snow Cat said, disappointment evident in her expression and words, “I have to go and talk with Dame Lae’lion. She is having some troubles accepting the command of the Knights of Essembra, plus a few other things only a ‘cute little dragon-cum-cat girl’ can understand…” Snow Cat batted her eyes playfully for Roerich as he laughed in delight and went to talk with Councilman Justinian.

₰​

“Okay Justinian, you wanted a meeting with me,” Master Roerich said, as Constantine, his owl companion gave off a complex series of hoots. Roerich nodded to Constantine, as he now knew three of the large Battle-Briars were within strike range. Given that doppelganger assassins had infiltrated the encampment before, he almost hoped one would ‘meet’ with him. One or ten doppelgangers being incinerated would help to make his day just a bit better, not to mention it would be fun…

Councilman Justinian motioned for Sergeant Kenneth and his guard. The men and women formed an outward facing circle, swords drawn and shields at the ready, stern looks on their faces promised a quick, messy, pain-filled death to any intruder.

“I appreciate the meeting on such short notice Master Roerich,” Justinian said with a shake of his head and a nervous look past the guards. “I was taking an inventory of Councilman Brenner’s belongings, to ensure that his family would receive them upon my return home. Sergeant Kenneth can confirm all that I am about to reveal to you, Master Roerich…”

Justinian slipped a pouch from under his thick coat, and opened it. From within he produced a small journal, the fine covers blacker than midnight. Upon its surface was the symbol for the dark goddess Shar. “When I found this journal,” Justinian shivered from head to toe, “I had assumed it was one taken from that traitor Cronus after he was discovered to be a Shar Priest. But its not so, the journal, and seven others that have been found within this pouch are all in Brenner’s handwriting and detail that since we departed Essembra, he had been working as a spy for Cronus.”

“My stars, its no wonder we have had so many difficulties,” Master Roerich said, “how many others within the expedition work for Cronus…”

“Not as many as you think, Master Roerich,” Justinian said, “we have a list of the doppelgangers who reported to Brenner. It’s probable one of them murdered the man during the battle with army led by Corinthian, and there is evidence of a ‘special agent’ within the encampment. The same one who slew the Delver and crippled most of our bridging efforts…”

“Which if we can identify, will die that very day,” Master Roerich declared. “What else are in those journals that can aid us or Essembra?”


“A complete list of all the agents within Essembra and most of the Dales,” Justinian said with a wicked smile, “Plus a grand number of false identity papers, letters of credit, and the like for any ‘recruited agents.’ Will those be of use or interest to you?”

“Immensely,” Master Roerich said, glad to have the opportunity to now turn the tables on Cronus in grand old style. “I have to consult with Snow Cat, Hanna, and Marcus. But yes, this helps us out to no end; the game has taken a new turn my friend…”

“Glad to hear that,” Councilman Justinian said, and then he asked, “How could you not be sure I was not a priest of Shar or a doppelganger assassin?”

“Very simple Councilman,” Master Roerich stated as he indicated the three Battle-Briars hidden less than ten paces distant. “Constantine can sense the distinctive aura of darkness that surrounds a priest of Shar. If you or one of the escorts had been one, Constantine would have ordered the Battle-briars to attack.”

Councilman Justinian and his diplomatic escort cringed in horror as the six-legged siege-machines growled from their hiding spots. “That is one thing I have to say Master Roerich, you do not mess around when it comes to serious matters, whether large or small…I saw a handful of them in battle against the forces of Corinthian, and how they used thorn volleys to tear the enemy ranks asunder…even some of the flying drakes went down like pincushions…”

Master Roerich smiled and clasped the Councilman on the shoulder. “Thank you Justinian, you just solved one problem for me. I have been informed that Cronus has launched a massive aerial raid set to reach us here two days from now,” Roerich said as he took possession of the pouch and journals, “when they get here, our side is going to have a few surprises in store.”

“But what if the Draco-liches are with them?” Justinian asked, “I know their bodies can be destroyed. The thing is that, unless their phylracies are destroyed as well, they regenerate in a few weeks and come back at us again. So how do we locate the blasted things and send all four of the Draco-liches into the next world once and for all?”

“Justinian, I am only going to say this much,” Roerich said, “Snow Cat has located them by means I will not discuss with any save her, Marcus and Hanna. When the time comes, either at Crossing or in Ashabenford itself, we will destroy them once and for all. On that much I have no doubt…right now getting across the tributaries and getting through the armies of Cyrus is the next goal. Then comes Crossing and we see from there.”

“What of Essembra?” Justinian asked.

Roerich shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, for he had no answers to that dilemma.

​

₰₰ One hundred fourteen ₰₰​

In the soft light of the half-full moons they soared fast across the thick forest canopy. High Lord Cronus ordered the destruction of the Heartland River Expedition to the last fortification, wagon, draft animal and person. There is to be neither mercy shown nor quarter given or granted; and thus for the glory of their liege, all shall carry out that order.

Seven formations of wyverns, each one-hundred strong, flew in a great ‘W’ shaped formation, two forward and three spread out behind them. Three other great bands of drakes, each two-hundred strong, provided escort for them, and in such strength, even the greatest of dragons would not dare to attack…

For the riders, each one a magician, priest, shaman or deadly archer, the plan was simple and straight forward. They would envelop the encampment from all sides and unleash a relentless aerial bombardment of magical spells and bespelled arrows. After that, then the aerial drakes would move in and end the survivors’ miserable existence with tooth, claw, poisoned tail and mighty breath weapons of fire, ice, acid and blasts of sound and electricity.

A simple plan, one that has worked countless times in practice and one that should work in this massive raid.

Once they had obliterated the encampment, they would head for Essembra and join in the final battle to be rid of the Sisters of Essembra, the Knights of Essembra, and the entire town. Indeed, given the sheer number of Song Dragons in the area, many of the riders dreamed of the wealth and luxuries they will have available to them in High Lord Cronus’s new kingdom…

Of course, they should have been paying attention to what was in the forest and high in the clouds behind them as well…

₰​

Wolf looked up as the massive army of drakes and dragon-kin swirled overhead. It reminded him of the waves sent forth into the seas when a massive iceberg cleaved free of its parent, and it promised to deliver the same mass of cold death if they hit the encampment. His growl was joined by others of his tribe, and those of Dancer in the distance.

For ten days they had crossed the three tributaries and infiltrated the woodlands. Once there, each small band of his tribe and Dancers had established lookout posts. Most of them were for the expected raid which even now passed overhead. Master Roerich however wanted them to watch the river, for he apparently expected some sort of secondary raid or diversion from that direction…

Or he was just exercising a reasonable degree of caution.

“Good move on the part of Master Roerich, I have a lot to learn from one such as him,” Wolf stated to no one in particular.



Wolf turned to his tribes magicians. “Pass the warning onto Master Roerich,” he commanded, “tell them the raiders have passed overhead and are less than an hour out. Then get the same warning out to Snow Cat, Marcus and Hanna. I will not take any chances of them getting caught by surprise with that swarm of dragon-kin…”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” Wolf gave off a sheepish grin of embarrassment, “Pass the word on to Reaper that he has company coming inside of thirty minutes. That should keep him amused for a short time, or so I can hope and…”

“Creatures in the river, big shapes, oh my stars…” one of the lookouts cried.

Old Wolf looked up at the sentry, then out over the river along with many of his tribe-mates and shuddered as the mass of shapes swept past their location. “Oh no, Roerich was right to expect a secondary attack,” he said, “magician, warn Roerich that he has much company from the river approaching. And each one is huge!”

₰​

Snow Cat watched the mass of dragon-kin as it passed below her and Marcus. Her cloak flowed around her as the high-strength winds passed, and she clenched tighter onto the dragon-saddle, even though she, being a true Draco’were, had no fear of falling to her death.

“Some instincts die hard sister of mine,” Marcus said to her via their mind-to-mind link, “Are you sure that this hair-brained idea of yours will actually work? Normally we strike first and then let anyone else finish the job, so why let the Battle-briars have all the fun?”

“Because Marcus,” Snow Cat replied, “were not here for them, were here to take care of the beasts approaching from the river…” she hesitated for a second and nodded, “Wolf has reported that the brutes had overshot the encampment and are now passing the third tributary. I’m not too crazy about doing this myself Marcus, but we have to handle them…”

“Fine, fine,” Marcus grumbled, “but are you sure this new set of spells you have mastered will actually work? I can physically handle the blasts the wrack-dragons can generate. You and Hanna are a different story; how can we be sure about the outcome if you’re wrong?”

“If you had any complaints you should have stated them earlier when I cast the ‘Phoenix Warding’ upon each of us. Just remember, even this kind of epic-magic has its limitations. So don’t go and get yourself mauled as you have done all too much lately. Hanna is still unmated, and you don’t want some other dragon to come along and court her after she is widowed due to you doing something dumb?”

Snow Cat looked to her left and spotted Hanna flying above and behind them. She clenched her fist and waved it around, and then she pointed downward to their mutual enemies below.

Hanna contacted Snow Cat via a magical communiqué, “Snow Cat, the number of dragon-kin are more than we had anticipated. We’re in a perfect location to strike and cull their numbers down a bit, plus we can lure them over the ambush site as we head for those wrack-dragons in the river…”

Marcus growled in support of Hanna’s idea.


“Fine then,” Snow Cat said as she gave in to their hunger for battle. “Just remember, the ‘Phoenix Wards’ have a limited number of spells stored within its structure. Hanna, our first pass has to be the most devastating, thus unleash the ‘living lightning’ first, all four blasts. And for the sake of the Father of All Dragons, please do not forget we are dealing with a lot of magicians down there in addition to the drakes…”

Snow Cat was truly worried about this sudden change in plans. Her mighty spell called ‘Phoenix Ward,’ all but rendered each of them immune to elemental forces of fire, cold, acid, sound and electricity. Even assaults of any pure mystical forces would be rendered moot.

Physical blows are deflected, turned away or absorbed. The kinetic-energy of a hit is contained, magnified and then returned ten fold in strength on the attacker. All of this is in addition to the mass of mystical energy stored within the wards depths; energy that magicians can call forth and unleash in a holocaust of devastation…

Devastation such as the ‘Living lightning’ which will reap a grand harvest of death among the dragon-kin below…

Assuming, that is, it did not simply arc back upon the three of them and rip them into a thousand pieces…

Snow Cat looked over the formation one last time, signaled Hanna and Marcus to dive, and leaned in against her brothers’ neck. She hoped her stomach would not empty itself out as it tended to do when he entered one of his death dives…

₰​

“Master Roerich,” Dame Lae’lion said as her Battle-titan came to a halt next to him. “The Battle-Briars are in place and quite anxious to turn the drakes and wyverns into pincushions. It’s crazy, they are sentient plants, and yet, like I have discovered with my mount here, they have a culture all of their own. I talked with one earlier this morning…” she shook her head and her mount snorted in disgust, “I never imagined how many kinds of soil, water, dirt and mulch and all things pertaining to plants one can learn from them…”

“I can imagine,” Roerich stated with an amused chuckle. “By the way, have the Knights taken up their positions with the archers? I am not counting on all of the Drakes and wyverns falling at once, and Snow Cat has once again decided to change the plans a bit…” he filled her in on what Snow Cat, Hanna and Marcus planned on doing. “So I need you to take command here, the Battle-Briars will respond to you accordingly.”

“Where will you be Roerich?” Dame Lae’lion asked, “if enough of the raiders don’t fall for the ambush, or if they penetrate the illusions over the encampment, what then?”

“There are enough Battle-Briars and auxiliary forces at the encampment, and Captain Laurence knows what to do if it comes down to it.” Roerich looked at her and smiled as he summoned his staff into his hand, “Don’t forget, we have those fields of ‘elemental chaos’ still in play, nothing like that to ruin any enemies day as they get fried, frozen, crushed and dissolved in a holocaust of devastation.”

“Now then, as to where I will be is fairly simple,” Roerich said, “We have a raiding force of wrack-dragons on the way down river. The idiotic things bypassed the encampment earlier today, so I intend to deal with them in a very special manner…” he grinned, “a manner High Lord Cronus will not enjoy.”

“But I imagine you will enjoy it then?” Dame Lae’lion stated with a coyish grin.



“Oh he will absolutely hate it, or I should say, he is going to hate what will happen when his beasties continue on their journey up river to crossing and have a grand old time of murder and mayhem…” Roerich said as he cast a teleportation spell to speed his journey along the way. He disappeared in a burst of light and golden sparks of magical power that slowly faded from the world.

Dame Lae’lion looked around as the Battle-Briars began to stand up and watch the skies. They have sensed the enemy and waited with infinite patience for the orders to strike. She looked to the unit leaders of the Knights of Essembra and twirled her arm in the air, the signal for them to mount up and be ready to protect the Battle-Briars from any drakes and wyverns who managed to close to melee distance.

“Roerich I hope this insane plan you have come up with actually works,” Dame Lae’lion said.

The ‘insane plan’ actually was somewhat ingenious. Snow Cat and Roerich had woven a grand illusion that made this area of the forest appear to be the Heartland River Expedition encampment, down to the smallest and most delicate of details. Meanwhile the real encampment had a mystical ward of ‘Abeyance’ enacted over it that will cause any observers to assume there is only open forest, hills and the river below.

Lae’lion hoped the mystical wards that protected her and her mount from the elements of fire, cold, acid, sound and electrical attacks were strong. For she had no doubts what the bombardment from above by a few hundred spell swingers would look and feel like, and she imagined more than a few of the Battle-Briars, Battle-titans and her fellow Knights would not make it home.

“Hopefully Snow Cat and the others can thin them down for us…” Lae’lion said as the distant roar of thunder grew in strength and intensity. “Here they come, using themselves as bait for the trap…”

₰​

Reaper and his tribe watched the initial onslaught unleashed by Snow Cat, Marcus and Hanna. The trio slashed through the two rearmost flights of wyverns, and unleashed the ‘Living lightning’ upon them.

Twelve storms of pure white-hot death shaped like dragons writhed and raced outward, hit their initial targets and cleaved them asunder. Each bolt of lightning roared with the ferocity of an elder dragon and divided into a dozen bolts of death that struck again and divided again and again, until nearly two-hundred wyverns and their riders fell to the ground.

“Yes! That’s the way to strike down ones enemies! A glorious slaughter without end for our foes…” Reaper said and then wondered why his tribe members had dove for cover. He looked up and flatly stated, “Oh no…Badgers humor continues from beyond the grave…”

A moment later the cooked and mangled carcasses of four wyverns and their riders landed upon him.

One of the wolf-were’s ran over and called out to Reaper, “My chief, are you alright?”

Reaper gave off a grand old sigh and the wolf-were smiled and grinned, and then he said, “I’ll tell you all that our friends in the sky are doing…” Reaper gave off a grand old mega-sigh.

₰​

Marcus roared in triumph as he climbed again into the nighttime sky. He glanced back at the mass of wyverns thrown into utter chaos by his, Hanna’s and Snow Cats assault. “Now that is the way to wage battle from the skies. Unleash a holocaust of devastation, climb away and make ready for the next attack!” he declared unto Snow Cat, “Which group is to be next! We can end this raid once and for all…huh?”

“I said CLIMB!” Snow Cat roared at her dragon brother. “Get us higher or we are in real trouble, Hanna has headed for the woods to gain cover, this fight is not for her.”

Snow Cat watched as the drakes who escorted the wyverns dispersed into flights of five to ten in numbers. They spread out and began to climb in a wide spiral, determined to press in on Marcus and Snow Cat from all sides.

“What are we facing sister,” Marcus said via their shared link. He had spotted the familiar Sky-Drakes and saw a few willowy Canyon-drakes and temperamental Cloud-drakes. But the others, which glistened with scales of black, blue, white, red and green, were unknown to him.

“We have Hell-drakes coming up at us Marcus,” she said, and struggled to hold onto the harness as Marcus cast a spell of ‘Hasting’ which redoubled his flying speed. She bopped her brother on his neck when he roared out a challenge to the Hell-drakes to join him in mortal combat if they dared, then screamed as Marcus abruptly went into a steep dive as a band of Hell-drakes emerged in the sky before them.

Marcus cast a spell which he enhanced with his esoteric knowledge. The small ember flew from his forepaw and divided into eight identical copies which detonated among the Hell-drakes. Amplified to three times its normal strength, the drakes disappeared in a maelstrom of flame, heat and unimaginable pressures. A moment later, the magic of the ‘Meteor Swarm’ replicated itself.

“Hah! That’s that for one group of Hell-drakes, huh?” Marcus said as he shook his head in disbelief. The twelve Hell-drakes, their red scales aglow with hellish fires, emerged unscathed. “Oh great, they are immune to all kinds of fire, I should have known…”

Immune to fire indeed, for the red-scaled Hell-drakes, but not, as Snow Cat demonstrated a moment later, to a well timed blast of ‘Chained Lightning.’ Ten white-hot bolts of electrified plasma arced from Snow Cats hand unto the drakes, and leaped among them until they were reduced to charred carcasses that tumbled out of the skies.

“Next time you better listen to me Marcus,” Snow Cat said as she looked upward to see the next group of Hell-drakes arrive as they executed a short-range teleport. This group was a mixture of blue-scaled and green-scaled Hell-drakes, immune to electricity and acidic forces respectively, received a different welcome from her…

Eleven of the Hell-drakes were swept up in the heart of a concussive blast so intense they were reduced to pulp. A moment later, the lone survivor came too close to Marcus who commenced to do a slash-pass attack. He raked it with his iron-hard, razor-sharp, preternaturally keen talons that tore apart its wings and sent it unto the hard stone far, far below.

“Small change of plans Marcus,” Snow Cat said to her brother as they danced across the nighttime sky, “Hanna has joined with Roerich. He has pulled off something wild, and the ambush is about to be sprung on the wyvern riders. So let’s have our fun with the Hell-drakes…”


Marcus roared in delight and dove straight for the largest concentration of their enemy.

For the next half-hour they waged a relentless, merciless onslaught on the drakes.

In the end, not one drake was left alive.

The mighty Forest Wyrms far below bellowed out their thanks and gratitude to Marcus and Snow Cat for giving them a grand old feast.

₰​

Dame Lae’lion watched from the crest of a hill at the carnage that had been wrought upon the raiders. Bands of the Battle-Briars, Knights of Essembra with their Battle-titans and the auxiliaries moved among the downed dragon-kin. Each one and its rider was checked for any signs of life, and if found, dispatched unto the next life.

“I have never seen such a one-sided ambush in my life,” Dame Winter-glove said to Lae’lion. “The Knights and our auxiliaries were hardly needed save for the clean-up, and that will be done soon enough. Master Roerich told us what was going to happen, but to see it first hand…” she shook her head, “I never intend to face even one Battle-Briar on the receiving end if it can be avoided.”

“The wyvern-riders struck at the illusionary encampment as planned,” Dame Lae’lion said, “If it had been our real encampment, the damage would have been substantial. Their actions speak of a highly-trained, competent, and experienced force. I am beginning to dread what we will face once we reach Crossing, and that assumes we can manage to defeat Cyrus and his army.”

Dame Lae’lion staggered to the side as her Battle-titan eased its head against her and started to nuzzle her back with its nose. “Buttercup what in the blazes do you want?” she asked of it. The Battle-titan gave her a puppy-dog-eyed expression and gently called out to her as it pretended to cower on the ground. Lae’lion laughed and said to it, “Go ahead, take your pick, but don’t stuff yourself again. The Forest Wyrms will arrive in short order for their share of the feast…”

Dame Winter-glove looked on with wide-eyed wonder at ‘buttercup’ took off into the woods. “What did that beast ask of you? And how can you understand them?

“Buttercup,” Lae’lion stated, “wants to have one or two of the wyverns for dinner. So she is going off to pick out the best of the bunch and drag them back to the encampment. As for speaking with them, anyone who takes the time to learn can understand those incredible creatures…’

“My stars you’re beginning to sound more and more like Snow Cat,” Dame Winter-glove said as she headed off to assist the auxiliaries as best she could.

“Dame Winter-glove,” Lae’lion said, “sometimes when one dreams of dragons one discovers new things about the world around you. Who knows, maybe if you too begin to dream of dragons, and listen to the song which calls to you, as it does with me, you will understand as well…”

₰​

Later in the evening Snow Cat walked by the rivers edge with Master Roerich and listened to the grand tale he told. She smiled and shook her head, delighted to once again be so surprised by the diverse abilities her husband continued to display. “So how exactly did you convince the band of Oceanic Wrack-dragons to, how did you so put it, ‘wander on up to Crossing and have a feast with Cronus’s troops?” she asked of him.

Roerich chuckled and grinned at her. “Very simple Snow Cat my dear,” he said.

The two of them paused as they watched Marcus descend into the rivers depths to catch some fish for Hanna.

“I merely broke the enchantment which bound them to the will and demands of High Lord Cronus. Fairly easy to do for that matter, especially when they assumed, thanks to a few judicially used illusions that confounded their senses, that the encampment was actually part of a very hot and dry desert,” Roerich said with a sly look at her lithe form silhouetted against the setting moons.

“But how could Cronus manage to charm and dominate that many Wrack-dragons?” Snow Cat said. “This type is a dragon of elemental water, they are impervious to any form of magical domination, even the greatest of all dragons – including Brother Hart – was not capable of doing that…” she stopped in mid-sentence as her eyes flared wide in comprehension.

“Ah, now my lady finally understands what has occurred,” Master Roerich said as he laughed.

Snow Cat stood before him and playfully thumped him on the head with her dainty fist. “Nice to know I have a husband with a few brains in his skull and not just between his legs. You bluffed the Oceanic Wrack-dragons as to the ‘spell’ which tied them to Cronus, and then faked nullifying it?” she said.

“Yes,” Roerich declared, “and in about ten days Crossing will be raided by them. Dragon honor is quite nice to know about, and I hated to trick them so. But this is all out war between us and Cronus, so if they were to die as I imagine High Lord Cronus intended, then let them die battling on our side.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Snow Cat said. She pointed to Marcus as he came back to the surface, a massive electrical cat fish in his mouth. Blue-white arcs of electricity flowed over his body as he swam back to shore and incinerated the fish with his fiery breath.

“Marcus, I wanted a cooked fish for dinner, not one reduced to ashes!” Hanna shouted, “Now go back and get me another electric catfish. Just don’t incinerate it this time!”

“Poor Marcus, I have to feel sorry for him at times,” Roerich said as he watched Marcus return to the river and swim out after another fish. “Hanna has been a bit edgy the last day or two. Is she alright Snow Cat?” he asked his wife.

“She’ll be fine Roerich,” Snow Cat said with a chuckle, “she is nearing the mating-time of all dragons, and what she will put Marcus through is not wished on any non-dragon,” she turned and saw the shocked look on his face and laughed, “don’t worry though, my time will not arrive for another twenty years, give or take a bit, and you have already seen what I am like in that time.”

“Just remind me to invest in fire-proof clothing,” Roerich said, “I have the feeling Marcus is going to be doing a lot of those ‘I greet you with incinerating fire’ in the days to come.” He and Snow Cat laughed at that.

₰₰ One hundred fifteen ₰₰​

Snow Cat heard the chilled winter winds howl across the expedition encampment with a keening cry akin to a Banshees cry of uttermost doom and despair. She shook her head as her feline ears pressed hard alongside her skull, but to no avail, as the cries of the wind increased by the moment as another colossal winter storm bore down on the encampment. Outside of her wagon, people rushed around and secured goods and equipment, mounts and draft animals, and a thousand other things before they were forced by the elements to find shelter or perish from cold.

Utterly exhausted, Snow Cat shook her head and gave off a long, low, exasperated sigh as she fought to gain what rest she could. “Its not bad enough Cronus is sending a massive flight of drakes and wyverns with riders to come against us; now this insane weather has to keep me awake when I want to sleep,” she looked around the wagon with bleary eyes and struggled to lift her body on sore arms, then decided to forget the matter and let herself collapse back onto the soft mattress Roerich acquired for her last week.

“I just want to sleep…so…tired…” she said and slowly drifted off into the depths of the song of all dragons, which called and beckoned, and asked what she desired to learn from it…

Reluctantly, fully knowing she could be in true danger this time, she ordered of the song of all dragons, “Take me to the time of the first Force Dragons, I want to speak with the eldest of our race, the one who first manifest from the primordial chaos and who, I hope, can finally answer my questions…”

In a heartbeat she was swept into the cascades of the song. As she dreamed of dragons, she understood the place and time she arrived in was beyond anything she had seen or dared to imagine could exist, for she was beyond the mortal world and brought before one being in the Celestial Heavens…

₰​

Snow Cat gazed up at the great creature before her as she gulped, her ears fell flat against her head and sheer panic threatened to envelop her completely. “It figures, my luck turned inside out and upside down when I ask to see and speak with the first Force Dragons. Instead I wind up here…” she shook her head, unable to speak or believe what all of her senses, enlivened by the holiness of the grandest palace she had ever seen, told her what is before her is truth.

She stood on the floor of a vast grand hall over three miles in width, twice that in height and miles beyond any measurement in length. Level upon level of passages, balconies and the like existed for as far as she could see; each one large enough to permit ten of the largest dragons to pass through with room to spare. Great dragons of all coloration – silver and gold, copper and brass, bronze and many others which looked like living gemstones flew around and danced in the air, reclined on grand daises of white marble and discussed esoteric matters so complex she could not begin to understand any of it.

“I wanted to find the first Force Dragons and instead,” she shook her head again, unable to stop the words from passing her lips, “I wind up in the home of the Father of All Dragons.” She pulled herself back into the shelter of a niche in the wall as three great gold dragons, each one over one-hundred feet in length and thirty high at the shoulder, passed her by. She sensed that they knew she was there the whole time, but had not shown hostility to her mere presence…



“Oh nuts,” Snow Cat declared. “They have to know I’m here, and someone is definitely expecting me…”

“In a matter of speaking youngling,” declared a voice in her mind and soul, one powerful and ancient beyond all time, yet as gentle as the kiss of a newborn faun. “Oh, my apologies, I so forget my manners at times when I have a guest from the mortal world; so let me rephrase my initial statement. In a matter of speaking Snow Cat, you have been expected at this time and place since the beginning of all existence…”

“I am so dead,” Snow Cat stated, on the edge of abject terror so great she felt as if her heart was about to burst in her chest. There was only one being who could command such power and authority among the Celestial Heavens, and she sensed his presence as the cosmos shifted and folded upon itself, to deliver her before the Father of All Dragons himself…

₰​

Snow Cat awoke and groaned from the pain which shot through her head. Every sense she possessed screamed to her in a massive overload of sensations, sounds, smells, lights and other concepts beyond the facilities of her mortal body to comprehend. She pulled herself unto a sitting position and kept her eyes clamped shut, for the legends among dragon-kind declared that any mortal who gazed upon the holiness and purity of the Father of All Dragons would be instantly consumed.

“I am so dead, what wrong have I done to have earned this fate Father of All Dragons?” she dared to ask of the one she knew was there. His physical form was only feet away from her, yet such was his being – one of pure celestial life and spirit made manifest – that she was as a speck of dirt compared to an entire world in the night skies…

“Your not dead Snow Cat, you dream a special dream from where the song of all dragons’ flows from,” said the Father of All Dragons in her mind, “come my dear Snow Cat, you are quite safe in my presence. Within you is the essence of the living Phoenix, as it is with your husband Master Roerich, and as it was with Brother Hart. In this means you have ascended to become more than a mortal dragon, or even a Draco-were.”

“No, I know the stories well enough, if I open my eyes to see the paradise around me it’s my death,” Snow Cat screamed as she covered her eyes with both hands, and her ears clamped tight against her skull. “I will not do that, no matter what you say, the legends are again clear, even a dragon of the purest heart and mind and soul will perish in this place. It’s all I can do to keep my own soul from being torn asunder by the power manifest in this place…”

“Are you sure about that choice?” The Father of All Dragons asked of Snow Cat.

“Yes, no matter what I will not look upon this place. Not unless you can guarantee I will survive, for I need to have answers that for some insane reason the song of all dragons sent me here to find. I asked to find the first of the Force Dragons. Not my progenitor Grinder, or the first Draco’were to walk the world, or so many others I have met in the last few months. I have so many doubts about myself, and what my role in the world is to be…”

“You doubt what you are due to being a Draco-were, a being of two worlds in one body. And in those doubts you fear what you will become…” The Father of All Dragons declared, his curiosity made manifest in the tone and timbre of a thousand heavenly choirs.



“As you wish Snow Cat,” a gentle and tender voice said from just in front of her. “Will this shape do better for you, or do you favor the ‘big, bad, burn-it-to-the-ground’ dragon style?”

Something in that voice told Snow Cat it is safe to open her eyes and look at her surroundings. Against all the lore and legends she knew, she took the chance and opened one eye to behold the heavenly realm. She was not disappointed, and quickly became swept up in the majestic wonderment made manifest around her.

Snow Cat saw a room which encompassed and combined infinity and eternity into one. She saw the countless worlds and stars manifest as small spheres of gold, silver, blue, and white. Each sphere hummed and sung with the lives and knowledge of millions of dragons who have existed, do exist and will exist in the fullness of time.

One small sphere floated before her and she placed her hand around its surface. Instantly she knew through the song of all dragons the name and location of all dragons and dragon-kin who resided upon that world. The total sum of their lives, loves, hopes and desires, fears and concerns were manifest for her to explore at will; nothing remained hidden. She heard the first cries of joy and life as a hatchling emerged from its shell and breathed air for the first time; and she felt the passage into the next life of an old dragon that perished defending his family from a enemy who joined him in death.

She moved to another glowing sphere and opened her mind to the dragons within, and delighted at the way the great dragons resided among humanity. Together the great species worked in harmony, neither slave or master to the other, but in a way, true brethren of the world; a harmony that may be unique to this world, yet one she longed to explore as she moved onward…

A white sphere drifted to her hand and she sensed that this was a world that is yet to be. She felt and heard the cries of a star being birthed in a blaze of flame and light. The star also birthed a dozen dozens of great dragons of spirit and mind, Force Dragons whose existence was to shepherd the forces of creation; balance out the ways of law and chaos, order and entropy, good and dark, light and night. In time as the worlds formed, they would move into the role of guardians, and intervene only under the direst of circumstances.

She moved from sphere to sphere, and learned of worlds grand and small, ancient and new. Civilizations ruled by great dragon-kings, and places where the only dragons were dust and echoes of those who had passed into the night ages before. All of these dragons she knew, and their kin, as they knew her and now of her, and they begged for their stories to never be forgotten.

One by one, a million times over in a heartbeat, she heard the stories of each dragon and remembered them all to the last detail. A million lives from a thousand thousands of worlds became hers, and she sensed there was more waiting for her to discover, a secret so grand and incredible that she longed to see and hear it, to embrace it and make it hers as only a few other dragons have done.

“You and you alone can make that choice Snow Cat,” said that melodious voice from earlier, “no one can force you to do so. No one can force you to become anything other than what, in the ultimate end, you choose to be or not to be…”

Snow Cat hesitated for a heartbeat of eternity, a moment in which a thousand suns flared into existence.

“I accept, let me see what is to be seen, and learn what there is to learn,” Snow Cat declared…

₰​

She felt her consciousness expand and reveal the music of the stars and the heavens. A canopy of fires and light flowed, swirled, danced and flared around and through her and caused her to gaze in wonderment. She learned how all of creation, of life, of love and hope, death and despair, of all existence was bound into one; and by this exploration, her knowledge and understanding of magic in and of itself, grew to new heights and depths.

Then something spectacular occurred…

One by one, the song of all dragons brought her to the Force Dragons who first emerged from the primordial birth of the cosmos. Aged and wise and powerful beyond understanding, she sensed that they watched over the edges of reality and creation, and guarded the cosmos from a place called the Far Realm. When that world of nightmares made manifest and insanity given life breached into the real universe, these beings gathered to do battle with the intruders to deny them entrance.

But sometimes magicians and priests on the mortal worlds sought out these beings, these aberrations, and thus became instruments of destruction of their own homes. Snow Cat beheld the nightmarish results of worlds that succumbed in the end to the Far Realm nightmares and shuddered to the core of her existence.

She now understood in full measure what Night Shade had been, and what her child, High Lord Cronus has become. In this revelation the truth of Brother Hart being the shepherd over the Dales made sense beyond all she had dreamed. He was not obligated to have done so, but sensed that in the future he would be needed there to do battle with the being his brother would become, and in the end, Brother Hart had given his own life to ensure that the darkness would be purged from the realm.

And now the darkness as manifest in High Lord Cronus will grow, but already the purpose of Roerich, Marcus and Hanna – and herself- opened before her. All are guardians, heroes and champions of their world against the manifest insanity of the Far Realm; and thus they are in place to save the world from the fate of so many others that held no champions such as them…

₰​

All of this blazed and flared in a white-hot flow of music so pure and grand that Snow Cat was brought to tears, knowing she will have to leave this place all too soon…

For this place is not the home of mortals, but for beings who have ascended beyond that.

“Such as the being you are completely ignoring that stands only a few feet away,” that gentle voice said, “and waits with immortal patience as a certain cat-girl cum-Draco-were examines his charges? Or should I just let you take over this job and I can finally leave this nut house and have some fun again?”

“Huh? What did you say?” Snow Cat said, the heat on her cheeks flowed across her brow and jaw as she caught the gist of his words. “Oops, that’s what I get for having too much curiosity on my own right?”

She looked the cat-guy over who stood before her and whistled. He was the perfection of the feline folk made manifest in heavenly glory. Snow-white hair and amethyst eyes that blazed with power, lithe frame that spoke of honed muscles and unearthly grace and strength. His striped tail gently swished side to side in a way that caused her heart to fluttering at a furious pace…


“Oh nuts, here I am acting like a love struck school girl instead of…” Snow Cat gulped as the cat-guy chuckled, the sound reminiscent of a thousand babbling brooks and ten-thousand thousands of wind chimes that danced in a gentle breeze across a continent. “This is not getting off to a good start…” she became so flustered she could form no more words.

“Snow Cat dearest, you came seeking answers, and hoped to find the oldest of Force Dragons who had lived at the dawn of the world,” he asked of her, “even though you specifically asked to meet the one who arose from the primordial chaos of the worlds beginning, and thus you are here and stand before him.”

The cat-guy bowed to her and smiled as Snow Cat squealed, blushed and shivered in erotic bliss as her body heated to higher levels than even the mating-times caused. “You can only be,” she gulped, not wanting to cause any insult, “you can only be the one called The Father of All Dragons, or more commonly Bahamut.”

“Yes, and as I said, you have the power of the Phoenix within you, and thus have become a celestial being in your own right.” Bahamut looked at her and said, “now then, I have some time to spare from my manifestly unusually unbusy schedule, so please, ask your questions and I shall answer, for in the mortal realms there is not much time until the inheritor of Night Shades legacy strikes out at Essembra.”

“What!” Snow Cat bellowed so loud and with such shocked indignation that Bahamut momentarily cringed and then laughed, delighted to see the sheer spirit and fire which made her so formidable of a dragon. He waited until her tirade played itself out and continued to speak as if nothing had occurred, “Yes, Essembra is soon to be attacked, and yes I know you are aware of this fact. The one called High Lord Cronus, the one who is your child by birth,” he gestured to Snow Cat, “has managed to assimilate all that was Night Shade.”

“Oh no, that’s all we need to face,” Snow Cat said, completely crushed at the nightmare her offspring has become, and truly fearful that she would not be able to kill him when the time came.

“Yes Snow Cat,” Bahamut said, his tail gently thumped along his calf, “Cronus has now, in addition to having the full capacities of a Draco-were – that of a Shadow Dragon; has also become a being of the Far Realm….”

“No one will forgive me for being the mother of that monster,” Snow Cat said as she felt the weight of the world slam down onto her shoulders. “Damn those dark-elves to the depths of the Abyss for what they did to me, and to the dragon, who fathered Cronus on me…”

Snow Cat hesitated, a resonance within the song of all dragons sounding out that cut her to the quick. She shook her head and sobbed, for a greater truth occurred to her at the time, a revelation she wished she had never been allowed to discover, “No, no, no….” she softly said over and over as she stumbled to the ground.

Bahamut came over to her and held her in his arms, “You had to know the truth Snow Cat, to understand and to face off against the one who is your child. High Lord Cronus was fathered by none other than Night Shade, to be a prince and eventually a king, over the Dales once this time came. It’s the final justice against that evil abomination that Night Shade underestimated the will and strength of Cronus, and thus failed in the end.”

“Snow Cat, understand this much, you have nothing to pay for due to the legacy of Cronus. He alone bears the price for his crimes against the cosmos.” Bahamut stroked her cheek with one fingertip, “Our choices and the ability to choose make us who we become, not some kind of ‘destiny’ or other such stuff. Cronus chose his own path long ago, as have you and Marcus…”

“Speaking of which,” Bahamut said with a coy smile, “imagine how much he will freak that he did not get to meet me while you did…”


Snow Cat looked at Bahamut as if he were nuts, and then cracked up, she laughed so hard that she finally fell to the floor and stayed there for some time. “He is going to so freak out and demand I bring him here,” she stated.

“Snow Cat dearest,” Bahamut said, “Marcus has made his choice long ago as to what he wants, and has become satisfied with Hanna at his side as well. He is a creation of a fang dragon and a fire-breathing dragon; but he has never deemed it worthy to discover the force-dragon heritage that sleeps within him. When he faced the Draco-lich Pale Death, a portion of it came to the fore for a moment, but he failed to see what he could become if he chooses to do so…”

“Come then Snow Cat, let’s go and meet the first Force Dragons as you wanted to do,” Bahamut said as he held out one hand for her to accept or decline as she desired, “for you are going to learn things of yourself and of the magic of the cosmos few dream exists. Even Master Roerich, your husband, failed to see all that the Phoenix has done for him – it is that, and not the trace of dragon blood in his system, which has made him so long of life that for all intensive purposes, he is immortal, and, like you, a being of the celestial realms.”

“Fine then, I have a lot to learn and no time to do it in, typical way of my life…” Snow Cat said as she accepted his hand.

“My dear Snow Cat, believe it or not, the same is true in my world as well…’ Bahamut said with a chuckle. Then he stated mysteriously, “Snow Cat, call when the darkness arises in full from the Far Realm. The ability of the Phoenix is a force of goodness and transition, of hope and renewal out of death. If you love and dream to the fullest, and risk everything when that darkness comes…”

He gently placed on finger on her forehead and showed her what he meant, and she gasped at such a possible future – if she chose to pay the price that may be required of her.

₰​

Snow Cat awoke from her sleep and shook her head, unable to determine if the dream actually happened as she remembered. “How could I have travelled through the song to the very home of Bahamut? And all that I seen there, and learned, all the ways to seek information within the song and within my own magic, is that real as well or just another part of the dream?”

She looked at her hands and noticed the smoothness of skin and the slight glow that manifest from them. “How is this possible? What has occurred to me, or was I actually there?” she shook her head until someone knocked on the wagon door and pulled it open right afterward. She saw Master Roerich enter and heard his soft whistle of surprise and awe.

Snow cat covered herself up with the bearskin rug as the cold air reached her. “Close that blasted door Roerich and tell me what has happened now?” she said to him. He did so and came to sit next to her as he looked over her face and hair, her ears and soft skin that glowed with life and perfection of form and beauty.

“So you did journey to the heart of the song of all dragons last night,” he stated to her.

He took her hand in his and compared them. His rough skin and weathered features stood in stark contrast to her perfect beauty. He sensed she had become something he could only imagine, a true celestial being – in part or in whole he could not yet say, while he would always be human.


“How did you know? I mean, it really happened and was not just a dream?” Snow Cat asked, completely in a state of shock. “How, why…I don’t understand…other than I know myself at long last. I am who I choose to be in this world and beyond.”

She went on to explain all she had learned of the great Force Dragons, of the worlds inhabited by all of dragon kind across the cosmos, and so much more that impressed and scared Roerich at the same time. He sensed the power of the Phoenix within her, and knew that she had, in encountering the Father of All Dragons, become one of the ‘god-touched,’ and thus marked as something greater in the world than he could hope to have along his side.

“Where do I fit into this new world of yours Snow Cat? What of the rest of us who have so much to do, and will you leave us for some higher destiny?” Roerich asked his wife, as he dreaded the inevitable answer which will forever take her from him. In such a case, he does not know if he will have the willpower or desire to continue on to destroy High Lord Cronus and finally reach the remains of Shadowdale as he planned so long ago.

“Or have you already left me my beloved, and all I see is the reflection of one I love so, so very much…” he waited for her to answer.

“Roerich, you don’t understand, exactly as Bahamut stated,” she said with a melodious giggle that sounded as if a thousand chimes carved of pure ice sounded in a gentle breeze. She covered her mouth in shock, and her eyes flared wide open, and asked of him, “was that me?”

“Yes it was my dear Snow Cat,” he said as he placed one hand at the base of her bared back. Small tendrils of white flame danced between her flesh and his, the indication of the Phoenix coming to life. He sensed that this moment marked a turning point for them, a time when their worlds, their lives, and their hopes and dreams have become one at long last.

“You still have not answered me my dear Snow Cat; do I lose you for good?” Roerich asked.

“Not right now, nor ever if all turns out as Bahamut showed me, but only the future knows for sure…” she said as he looked on her with confusion. She knew he still feared that she would vanish into the wisps of a dream and leave him alone for eternity.

She proved how wrong his fears were a moment later when she kissed him and dragged him to the floor. All else mattered not between them as man and wife became one…and confirmed a link of love and hope of which much good shall be wrought…

₰₰ One hundred sixteen ₰₰​

Master Roerich looked over the gathered commanders and leaders within the Heartland River Expedition. He smiled, raised his hands for silence and thus called the gathering to order. Despite his call for quiet, whispered conversations continued, each one rife with a cornucopia of rumor, gossip and speculation. Roerich called out for a second time, then a third, and finally resorted to a magician’s ancient means of diplomacy…

BLAM!

People fell to the floor or cringed, covered ears with hands or clutched chests in anticipation of passage into the next life. Roerich had their complete and undivided attention, thanks to the usage of a simple ‘Thunder’ spell which caused massive amounts of noise but no permanent damage. “And everyone wonders how a magician can get stuff done so easily from time to time. Now then, barring any further interruptions,” here he stood silent and lifted one eyebrow to see if anyone took up the challenge, “let’s get this meeting going.”

“It’s taken nearly twenty days to repair the damage our mysterious saboteur inflicted on the bridges. We do hold that the slayer of the Delver to be the same bridge and tunnel saboteur; and when we find them, there will be a lot for them to answer for,” Master Roerich declared with a firm growl and clenched fist. In the collapse of the tunnels he had lost good friends, fellow merchants, and valuable troops and equipment sent to finish the third of the bridges. For their sake he meant to find the saboteur and finish him off for good.

“Master Roerich,” Dame Fox-glove asked, “have we discovered how many doppelganger assassins and agents High Lord Cronus had sent into the expedition? Even as good as they were, the one who took down the Delver is many orders of magnitude better than a mere doppelganger. So what do we face?”

“On that I don’t know for sure Dame Fox-glove,” Roerich answered as he shrugged his shoulders. “Right now what matters is we have the bridges finished and garrisons securing them from all ends. Captain Laurence and our expedition magicians and priests have done their part with the bridges; this is in addition to creating a new batch of the Rods of Snow Melting and of Snow Repulsion. We have a few other means to speed our way on this journey, and I want to reach the area of Crossing.”

“Master Roerich, why are we leaving such a large contingent of our auxiliaries here at the three tributaries?” one of the auxiliary captains asked. Her forces had been involved in the hardest of fighting at Hap-tooth Hill and against the forces of Corinthian. They were assigned to stay here while the expedition continued onward and she wanted to know why.

“Very simple,” Roerich said, “you and the eight other auxiliary companies staying here are to form a reserve if needed further down the road. More importantly, the three tributaries region will hold four way-stations for any who follow us, a fortified community to service the way-stations. If the worse should happen, then the area is to be a final redoubt, one we can fall back upon and use to keep the river-route secure and open to this point.”

“I want people of proven fighting ability and dedication to watch my back,” Roerich said as he pointed at the nine company commanders who will garrison the area. “And I do not count on Cronus overlooking the chance to take us from behind if,” he shook his head, “if, by some chance, Essembra falls in the battle that is to come in the next few days. Hap-tooth Hill has a strong garrison to protect us from that direction.”


“You thought all of this through so long ago Master Roerich?” Dame Lae’lion asked, overawed by the sheer ability he possessed.

“With the help of Marcus, Hanna, Snow Cat and others, yes indeed. I have been sending out calls for extra help from mercenaries, old friends, many religious orders and the like.” Roerich said, “Hap-tooth Hill convinced me that the help would be needed, and sadly my hunch has turned out to be right.”

“As many of you know, the Heartland River Expedition has become much more than a journey to clear and open the river-route. Now we have become a force of change in the region, and have become involved in a war between us and High Lord Cronus. We have learned from Owl, leader of the Sisters of Essembra that Cronus’s first major armed forces, nearly two legions in strength, have arrived just to the west of Essembra. Nearly six more are half a day behind them, and five more of mercenaries are approaching from the north and east of the area.”

₰​

“Marcus is Snow Cat alright? She has been flitting here and there with her teleportation magic on behalf of Master Roerich and appears to be near her physical limit for such magic travel?” Hanna asked.

The concern was clear on her face as she, currently in her human form, propped herself against his massive frame and enjoyed the sheer levels of heat which radiated like a furnace from his body. “Hmmm, one advantage to having a ‘four-legged furnace’ for a husband is in the worst of winter weather you are always warm,” she stated with a smile on her lips. “Although I do have to be careful to stay clear of those razor-sharp, iron-hard projections you have all over your body. When you ‘turn turtle’ for a final defense, it’s too bad there is not a way to super-heat them or charge them with lightning or such; then that final defense will become all the more formidable…”

“An idea for the future my dear Hanna,” Marcus said as he nuzzled her cheek with his armored nose.

“Snow Cat has made the last of her little diplomatic jaunts for a few days.” Marcus rolled his eyes to the night skies and chuckled, “For right now she has returned from the far off elven courts to coordinate the travels of the elven armies to here and to Essembra; she is a Countess among them.” He laughed at the shocked look upon the face of his dear Hanna, and nodded at the unspoken question she asked.

“Yes, she is a noble among the elves,” Marcus declared, “and the matter of moving their armies, plus those of other allies along the way, has kept her busy in ways I cannot even begin to understand. She has used her new magical abilities to bring them here in numbers: elves, dwarf, human priests and knights, mercenaries and other auxiliary forces. Among them are some of the so-called ‘exotics’ with special abilities or such she and Roerich have deemed worth the effort and cost to hire.”

“She also controls the ancient magical pathways of the surrounding woodlands. With them, a company or army of troops can cross a thousand miles or more in but a heartbeat. Brother Hart once controlled them, and now she does in full measure,” Marcus stated.

“Hence the means by which High Lord Cronus has moves so massive an army with such speed unto Essembra and the rest of Battledale.” Hanna shivered, shook her head and cringed, “So what is to keep him from using these same pathways from dumping a full army into our laps here at the three-tributaries?”

₰₰ One hundred seventeen ₰₰​

“My stars, how did he ever build up such a strong army, plus keep a major one at Crossing?” Dame Fox-glove asked with a startled gasp. “How is it even possible? Has he stripped Crossing of all its defenders? Or is there more going on than we have seen?”

“Allow me to explain if I may Master Roerich,” Prince Wild Oak of the elven kingdom asked.

When Master Roerich nodded, Prince Wild Oak declared, “There are ancient pathways that connect Mistledale and the regions around Essembra. These trails allow armies to assemble and travel great distances in a very short amount of time. The ones around Essembra and Mistledale are controlled by High Lord Cronus, the rest in these woods by Snow Cat, Master Roerich or others within the elven kingdom. Thus we cannot use them to hit Ashabenford directly, nor can Cronus do the same to us here.”

Several of the commanders suspected he had not told the entire story, but such was not uncommon. Many had never anticipated or expected that Master Roerich commanded such skill in the art of grand strategy, nor Snow Cat for that matter. Both of them continued to pull off one surprise after another, and all knew each trick would be needed before Cronus fell once and for all.

“Now to answer the rest of your original questions Dame Winter-glove…” Master Roerich began.

“Cronus has gained the loyalty of Night Shades old forces,” Master Roerich declared. “The one army we know of that escaped north of the three tributaries, one led by a Priest of Shar called Cyrus, had joined the forces of High Lord Cronus and even now is between us and Crossing.”

“Dame Fox-glove, the statement you made a couple of weeks back about the grand strategy of Cronus appears to be correct; he is grinding us down step by step and will strike hard after we are battered upon Crossing. Fortunately we have a few surprises in store for him and his forces here and in Essembra…” Roerich said with a chuckle.

₰​

“Master Roerich, is Snow Cat going to be here with us when we begin moving out?” Dame Winter-glove politely asked. “Marcus and Hanna have been extremely cagy about the matter. She has vanished more than a few times and returned as mysteriously. Just an hour ago I passed by her after the latest returning, and she reeked of sulfur, brimstone, smoke and her hair and clothing had been singed. Not to mention she griped about ‘old-hot head got his just deserts…’ “

“What else is going on we need to know about Master Roerich,” Dame Winter-glove said unto him.

“Snow Cat is vital to any chance we have at Crossing, let alone in Mistledale when we strike for Ashabenford to take down High Lord Cronus,” Dame Lae’lion said. “If she is gallivanting around the world here and there, even if for diplomatic reasons, we have to change our plans again…”

₰​

“Snow Cat has control over part of these ancient pathways?” Hanna said with a startled gasp.

“Yes, a final departing gift from Brother Hart. I do not even claim to understand most of what she is going through at this time. There are matters she will not discuss with me, and even the song of all dragons is silent on that regard,” Marcus stated with some confusion.

“She has gone off to get some rest, her mission to recruit a gaggle of Brimstone Drakes did not go well,” he said with a chuckle as he rolled his eyes to the heavens, “so she had to ‘teach them a lesson.’ At the least, we do not have to worry about them anymore. It should take them only a couple of years to dig themselves clear of their caves where she dropped the mountain in upon them.”

“Plus, she has secured some extra help for Essembra. Help that she hopes will make High Lord Cronus change his mind about taking on Essembra,” Marcus said, and chuckled at Hanna’s confused expression.

“Marcus, why is the song of all dragons silent on an area concerning Snow Cat?” Hanna asked, “I thought that could not be done? Even the presence of Brother Hart’s remembrance is to be found within its depths, and yes I have been consulting with his presence to learn more of what a were-dragon can do….”

“And I stumbled across something strange and very frightening…” Hanna shuddered to the depths of her soul.

“What Hanna?” Marcus asked.

“The presence of Night Shade, only an echo of what he was, but it is linked directly with High Lord Cronus, as if he has inherited the authority and being of our deceased foe.” Hanna shivered as Marcus growled.

₰​

“So what is going on Master Roerich,” a newly arrived auxiliary commander asked.

“Let me put it this way,” Roerich’s voice became solid as forged steel, “High Lord Cronus has executed his game of grand strategy with surprising deftness and originality. For now, we have been fortunate to deflect and defeat most of his efforts. This has been in part due to the efforts of the late Brother Hart, and to Cronus being focused upon Essembra.”

Roerich gave them all a devilish grin, “Now Cronus is going to find out what it means to be on the receiving side of things. He insists on playing this game of grand strategy by his rules, now he will find out we refuse to do that.”

“But Master Roerich you still have not answered my question, what of Snow Cat,” an exasperated Dame Winter-glove asked of him for a second time.

“Snow Cat has been handling some delicate matters, and that is that…” Roerich stated, determined for this matter to end. He knew of Snow Cat having travelled across the dimensions of reality, to find that one group of celestial beings who can aid Essembra the most.

₰​

“There is more Marcus,” Hanna said as she turned to face her husband, “the link to High Lord Cronus also had a resonance that linked him to something here in the encampment. The same something, no its not a human or any other being of this world, but something from a darkness beyond our own reality, that took down the Delver and the bridges and tunnel system.”

Marcus absorbed this information and matched facts with facts then smiled and nuzzled Hanna on her cheek, “I have to ask, can you follow on this resonance to locate the creature? If you can, I have the feeling it will soon meet with a ‘We greet you with incinerating fires and lightning’ from the two of us. I lost a new friend when the Delver perished; never could I have imagined there were one-hundred thousand ways to describe stone and the ways it could be prepared for consumption….”

Marcus felt Hanna place a soft hand on his armored nose.

“Let’s hunt,” Hanna said with a wicked grin, “I’ve been stuck here while you healed up from the wounds of that Furnace-drake. So let’s hunt that creature and end it once and for all, if we can. But if it is the same beast that assassinated Sir Robinson, then we let the Knights end it…” She smiled as Marcus growled in affirmation.

₰​

“I have to ask of you Master Roerich,” Dame Lae’lion said as she came forward for all to see, “most of us here know of the reinforcements. Those coming up behind us or that are already here, and mind you I have no complaints about the newest orders of Knights, mercenaries, infantry, archers and cavalry and the like. Even the fighting prowess, of the elven and dwarf auxiliaries is a profound addition to our strength…”

“Thank you lass,” one of the dwarf commanders said with a grin.

“But some of these auxiliary forces are, to say the least – unusual or exotic in and of themselves,” Dame Lae’lion stated. “Some of them have no love for humans, so how did you gain their allegiance to our cause?”

“As I said just a moment ago,” Roerich stated, “we have our own grand strategy being carried out.”

“High Lord Cronus has made many enemies. He is not the only one with connections to the southern lands for mercenaries and for other ‘exotic’ troops…” Roerich looked at Dame Lae’lion, “and yes many of them have joined us, Snow Cat has paid for them out of her own pocket. Or I should say, ‘our’ pocket, since she considered the expense of hiring them fell under the caravan part of the expedition and thus disposed of a small fortune of gold, platinum, rubies and sapphires.”

“Also,” Roerich continued, “other operations are underway that are between me and Snow Cat alone, and of them, nothing will be said, for too many lives depend upon it.” His look, combined with the gathered storm of magical energy gathered around his one hand, clearly revealed what fate awaited the first one to dare to ask.

Roerich did not want anyone to know that certain ‘specialists’ whom he had dispatched to Crossing and unto Mistledale. Using the false identity papers recovered from Councilman Brenner’s journals, they have gone forth to be spies, saboteurs and assassins. When the time came to unleash them in full, High Lord Cronus will find that he should never have waged war with the expedition, and that mistake in the end will cost Cronus his life.


“Well Master Roerich you did marry her,” Dame Lae’lion stated with a smile. The gathered commanders had a good laugh over that. “If Snow Cat has deemed it to be worth the time, trouble and treasure to recruit our newest allies, then it’s good for all of us.”

₰​

“Master Roerich, exactly what kind of ‘exotic’ troops will fight beside us,” Dame Fox-glove asked, “for if they have truly unusual or unique abilities or battle techniques, we need to know so we can plan accordingly…’

“Fine then, somehow I knew this was going to happen,” Roerich stated, “aside from our human, elf and dwarf contingents we have with us forces of war trolls, mantis-men, and of course our Battle-Briars. Between here and Hap-tooth Hill our rear lines will be secured by tribes of wolf-were’s related to Reaper, Wolf, Dancer and the late Badger. Plus we have a few tiger-were tribes on the far side of the river engaged in…lets just say other things.”

“War trolls, mantis-men, and even more shape-changers…” Prince Wild Oak stated, “can I mention of the last group to arrive from the southern lands?” he asked of Roerich who smiled and gestured for him to proceed. “We have a fair number of Sembian Marines from the southern lands. Snow Cat obtained their services after a short and intense discussion with the rulers of Sembia, and thwarted a deal almost finished between them and High Lord Cronus…”

“In short she explained to them what mayhem she would unleash if they ‘refused to reconsider the deal’?” asked Quentin, a newly arrived magician, leader of 100 lesser mages. He looked at the shocked faces of the other commanders and shrugged his shoulders, “It is standard procedures for magicians of a reasonable power to make such statements…”

“Small difference in this case,” Roerich explained, “the representative of Cronus threatened Sembia with total annihilation if they did not join his cause. Snow Cat took this as a personal threat and duly removed Cronus’s representative, his small fleet of warships and a quarter of the harbor to another world.”

“After that, the Sembian’s were more than willing to listen,” Dame Lae’lion stated with a laugh,

“And thus we have fifty companies of Marines who will join us on the march,” Roerich stated. That drew more than a few gasps and shocked expressions, for all knew the fighting prowess of the Sembian Marines; and even the fiercest of barbarian berserkers feared to confront them in battle.

“Great, as if a battalion of six-legged, sentient-plant, siege machines are not ‘exotic’ enough,” Captain Laurence said with a shudder. He recalled the massacre the Battle-Briars had inflicted in the battle against the southern army led by the Priest of Shar Corinthian; it was a one-sided massacre, though the abandoned siege train has more than made up for the matter with tons of supplies, food, and so much more the expedition needed.

“There is that Captain Laurence,” Foxy stated from one corner of the large tent. People looked at her and gave smiles or nods and wished her good health when they noted her expanded belly; she was due in less than four months, and already griped and complained like any impatient mother-to-be who wants to hold her firstborn in her arms.

“One more matter too, until we can open Crossing, the merchants who accompanied us from the beginning have agreed to stay here at the three tributaries area. This will free us of that concern for the time being, and Captain Laurence and the caravan guards will remain here to further strengthen the garrison,” Roerich stated.


“Good, everyone that is going will make final preparations for departure,” Roerich saw that his words caused a surge of excitement among the commanders. “Once we cross the tributaries, I will hold our next war council and detail our route of advancement, enemy forces, and the like. Understand people, the closer we manage to get to Crossing, the easier for High Lord Cronus it becomes, as he can fall back on his own supply lines…”

“Hence the reason why you have had this place fortified so strong and storehouses of stone built,” one dwarf chief declared with a grin, “you have already figured out the need for a forward supply base, and I imagine you have plans for such a garrison at Crossing when we take it…”

“Among other things,” Roerich said, “Among other things…”

People looked at Master Roerich and wondered what new tricks and crazy ideas he had up his sleeve. Most just shook their heads, unable to decipher even the least of the man’s grand plans and intentions, other than one that now united them all…revenge upon the inheritor of Night Shade, and the need to bring peace to the Dales once again.

“I just hope that Essembra manages to stand the coming battle,” Foxy said as she was assisted by several of the wolf-were tribe members. She clucked and swatted at them as they tended to her as if she was some kind of noble-born lady or queen. “It’s bad enough having my new tribe-mates preening all around me, hoping to be there when my little one is born…” she just shook her head as the crowd laughed at her dilemma.

₰​

Dame Fox-glove stopped to speak with Master Roerich as the others departed. “Will Essembra be able to hold out? Or will it become little more than a charnel house such as Daggerdale and Shadowdale have become?”

“I don’t know Dame Fox-glove, I honestly don’t know,” Roerich said, “just as with what I intend to do once we have finished the war with High Lord Cronus. I intended to reopen the river-route and reach Shadowdale. Now my entire world has been turned on its head.”

“Never forget one thing Roerich,” Dame Fox-glove said, “you and Snow Cat have always brought us one major asset: hope. As long as we see hope for a better tomorrow after we pass the darkness of High Lord Cronus, we will win.”

“Thank you Dame Fox-glove,” Roerich told her, and then cryptically added, “I just hope she can bring the same to the people of the Dales when that battle begins. So much rides on her…so much rides on her and I may lose her forever…”

₰₰ One Hundred Eighteen ₰₰​

Lord Davis looked from the high walls of Essembra when the first sounds of battle resonated from the woods. A thousand thousands of horns, trumpets, drums and gongs sounded. The enchanted instruments sounded cries of the damned across the land, and inspired great feelings of dread and despair in the defenders. Soon the loud whoops and songs of battle merged with the melody, and declared that the forces of High Lord Cronus, King of all dragons, had arrived.

Lord Davis felt his mouth go dry and his hands shake as the first legion emerged into sight. Twelve regiments of disciplined dragon-men, half-dragons, land bound Furnace-drakes, and four Gray Renderers marched without cease towards the walls. Behind them three more legions marched, each in perfect formation for the relentless assault to come…

“We are so dead this day,” Lord Davis said. Those words suddenly calmed his fears, and he accepted his fate, now all that mattered was for him and his men to sell themselves as dearly as possible.

Horns blared and gongs rang across the city and told all that High Lord Cronus’s forces had cut off all routes of escape. Lord Davis saw the concerned looks upon his men and laughed as he took up his bow, “What are you all afraid of; these brutes have made their final mistake. In cutting off our city from escape we now stand upon death ground. So we have no choice but to win to save everyone who has not already left…’

One sergeant-at-arms turned to the enemy and shouted a string of the most profane and vulgar insults anyone could have imagined. Other men up and down the line joined in, and all prepared their bows, ready for the first salvo to be unleashed.

Lord Davis gauged the distances carefully and said, “Loose arrows!”

Two-hundred bows sounded out as their shafts sought the flesh of their enemies who went turtle, their shields overlapping to deflect the projectiles. Not one of them fell, and they emerged from under the protection to shout and decry the pathetic skills of their adversaries…

Only to have their first and second regimental lines decimated as the hidden companies of elven archers popped up along the walls and cleaved the enemy apart. Arrows tore into the ‘Gray Renderers’ and revealed them to be magically-altered squirrels – one more deception of High Lord Cronus dismissed, to the delighted cheers of the defenders.

Then the first arrow salvos flew from the legions ranks, combined with a great barrage of magical spells. Defenders died here and there, great sections of the walls tore asunder or screamed as stone warped and melted, while other sections held up, the mystical forces deflected by defensive wards. Magicians and priests along the wall began to respond with deadly accuracy, and the battle intensified as the elven magicians engaged in battle.

Under the cover of this barrage, the first legion advanced at a full out run, determined to reach the walls and be over the top before the deadly archers could stop them. Score upon score died with each passing minute, yet the mass of troops could not be stopped, and they pushed siege ladders to the walls and commenced to climb…

Lord Davis and his men threw themselves upon the first ones over the tops with fury in their eyes, and death began to clap his hands…

Thus, the battle for Essembra had begun.

₰​

Lord Ruma watched as the first regiments of orc-kin and ogre-kin withdrew in good order from his position on the walls. Many of his men cheered their success until he shouted for them to be silent and maintain their watch, “This is far from over men, and they were only probing our defenses on this part of the walls. They will strike at us before the half-hour is over and then come at us with everything they have…”

“Then we are finished?” asked one of his lieutenants.

“No your not,” called out a voice from behind then. Heads turned to see young elven-lass approach, a captain by her rank insignia, and smile at Lord Ruma as she asked where her soldiers and archers could be best employed. “We have a few strong magicians here in our ranks, and hopefully some dragon support in short order. But I have to say that the next legion assault will be in less than twenty minutes…”

Lord Ruma bowed to her and asked her name.

“Oh, my apologies, I am Captain Holly Fast-wind,” she said to him in a melodious voice that also spoke of true authority and mysteries few could comprehend. “My spell-archers will be ready inside two minutes to meet the next assault…”

Captain Holly, Lord Ruma, and many others looked outward as horns sounded, drums pounded and the banners of two complete orc-legions advanced. They watched as each legion divided into regiments and battalions, each prepared to strike the walls en mass.

“They are not being very subtle are they?” Lord Ruma stated, not expecting anyone to answer.

“True, but then again they have no need to be subtle. We are outnumbered by at ten or twenty to one, so they feel confident that they will win the day. Stupidity among orcs knows no bounds…” Captain Holly stated as her archers lined the walls and readied bespelled arrows that pulsated with magical forces.

“I have to admit, Snow Cat called this one right off,” Holly said with a melodious laugh, “and here for once I thought I would beat her in matters of strategy. I should have known she had not forgotten the lessons of our teachers…”

“Snow Cat has figured out how the enemy would strike at us?” Lord Ruma asked incredulity in his voice.

“Yes, she figured it out and declared that there will be some help from the Celestial heavens as well, something that High Lord Cronus will fear to no end.” Captain Holly looked over the legions who approached at a double-fast march, calculated when they would be in bow range and nodded her head as the first archers drew back their bows.

“Any chance good Captain,” Lord Ruma asked of her, “your archers might welcome our guests when they are in range?”

Captain Holly answered with a feral grin of delight.

The first volley flew a moment later, and Lord Ruma watched each projectile replicate itself under the magic of the Arrow Swarm. Five battalions of orc-kin, those of the closest regiment, formed into ‘turtle’ formations with overlapping shields to deny the arrows any contact with vulnerable flesh…


They had not counted on each battalion being shattered in a tempest of lightning, fireballs, and three separate blasts of meteors. Their screams of pain and astonishment lasted for only a moment, then merged with those of the second and third regiments; for volley after volley of precision shots reaped a harvest of orc-kin without any loss on the defenders part.

The legions archers began to return fire, only to see their arrows deflected by magical wards emplaced by the magicians of the elves and Essembra. Then the elves began to counter-battery fire the archers, and raked their formations with deadly intent; in minutes the archers disciplined ranks collapsed under the relentless pressure and fled for the woods. The nearest battalions joined them and the retreat soon became a full fledged route for both of the legions.

“That will buy us about an hour Lord Ruma,” Captain Holly stated, the other legions are still advancing and we may be needed elsewhere before this day is done.”

The two of them cringed as a magical barrage unleashed by the legions magicians sent massive stone blocks high overhead. They dove for cover and watched, aghast, as the glowing slabs slammed down into the town itself near the central meeting hall.

₰​

Owl looked upon the first scenes of battle and shook her head, “How did High Lord Cronus double his armies’ numbers in such a short time? We have at least thirty legions coming at us from all sides and maybe more from deeper in the woods. The first ranks of our enemy facing Lords Davis, Julies and Ruma have been repulsed but for how much longer?”

The central meeting hall of Essembra shook as a massive slab of stone and fire landed nearby. People screamed and great clouds of dust and debris rained down upon them. A second, then a third strike followed, telling Owl that the place was being targeted for destruction. “Get everyone out of here now! Head for the secondary halls and whatever shelter you can find,” Owl shouted as she turned to Lady Claudia, commander of the cities militia.

“Where are you off to Lady Owl?” Claudia asked, “We need you here to help out…”

“I’m headed to where I belong, with the Sisters of Essembra. It’s past time for us to join in battle, and so we shall show the enemy what a gathering of true dragons can do…” Owl’s words dissipated as she raced down the dust-filled halls. She used a magical communiqué to inform her Sisters that she was on the way and for them to aid the defenders as they could, but just shy of the outer entrance to the meeting hall, the ceiling collapsed and she never had time to scream before blackness enveloped her.

₰​

Snow Cat stood on a hilltop just off of the river and embraced Master Roerich in a mighty hug. “I’m sorry it has to be this way my husband. But this may be the one chance we have to balance the books with Cronus once and for all. Bahamut shared this magic with me when I first visited his home among the celestial heavens, and if the door opens to take out Cronus in one shot, I have to take it…”


“No Snow Cat,” Roerich said as he pulled her close and kissed her neck, “we will do this together. Both of us have possession of the Phoenix. You described to me what Master Sheo achieved with his Crown of Fire that embodied the essence of the Phoenix. So it is with the two of us and the final strike to be delivered against High Lord Cronus…”

“Roerich, you know there is a chance we will not survive this casting,” Snow Cat said to her husband, “I have to begin the casting now, and hope I can contain it within myself until the opening comes. I don’t want to lose you as well to it; we have begun a new life and have hope for a grand future when this war finally ends. Without you I don’t know what I would do?”

“It’s simple, you continue on without me, and hold the time and love and hope we have shared in the world in you heart,” he said as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Right now though we have a chance to end this madness and prevent a greater evil from destroying the Dales. Night Shade opened the door into the Far Realm and summoned that creature of darkness and nightmares given life and form. He assumed he commanded it from the time he merged it with his being…”

“And instead,” Snow Cat began, “we have Cronus to deal with, who is inhabited by the same creature. And it waits for the moment Cronus slips and answers its offered secrets and power. If he does so, the nightmare becomes real, and then we can act – together, then – to finish the matter.

“Together then,” he said to her.

Snow Cat loved her husband with all of her heart, soul and mind, and yet there was even a secret she kept from him…the cost of enacting this magical ritual would transform her forever if she survived. She hugged him even tighter, unsure if this would be the last time she embraced him among the living.

“Come Snow Cat,” Roerich said, “Let’s begin.”

₰​

The man-who-is-not-a-man watched as Hanna passed by, mere inches away and lifted his stiletto blade to strike at her. He knew there would be no chance for her to escape the Dragons-bane poison on the blade, and he set his eyes on the area between her shoulder blades – one hit, sever the spine, puncture the heart, and the poison in her blood will ensure the end…

He watched her turn and smiled at him, and then calmly wave a ‘goodbye’ gesture as the illusionary image faded from before his eyes. Then he felt the hot breath upon his back and knew the end was at hand.

“So I have failed in the end,” Cronus’s best assassin, a being of nightmares given life and form from the Far Realm, stated just as the incinerating fires from Marcus consumed it completely.

“How these idiotic assassins assume a dragon cannot sense Dragons-bane when they are aware of it is beyond me,” Hanna stated. Marcus nodded in agreement and shook his head, “Welcome to one aspect of my life my dear Hanna, I’m all too used to such matters…no matter, it’s done, and soon so will be Cronus.”

₰₰ One hundred nineteen ₰₰​

“Owl, owl, blast it her message cut off in mid-sentence,” Harvest declared to her sister Song Dragons, Cloud Dancer and Star Gazer. “Fine then, we have to do this the old fashioned way. Until she returns to us, each of us should take one section of the Sisters to help hold the walls.” Her companions nodded and waited as Harvest continued, “Just remember, we have to commit everything, Cronus must be stopped, and Essembra must win even at the cost of every one of us Song Dragons.”

“I hope it does not come to that though,” Lord Sea Mist, representative of the elven court, said as he walked over to the three ladies.

“I already have my forces at work in the woods and hills to the north and west of Essembra. We will bleed the legions dry and crush as many of them as we can.” Sea Mist declared, “Cronus made the mistake of threatening the elven kingdom and our very kin here in Essembra. He arranged for the murder of my kin, Sir Robinson, and thus he has to pay the ultimate price. First we take his army apart, then we take him apart.”

Harvest, Cloud Dancer and Harvest grimly nodded at the determination and steel within Lord Sea Mists words. For the first time in weeks, hope returned to them in measure. Hope that a few Song Dragons may survive this great and desperate battle.

“There is other news you should know,” Lord Sea Mist declared, “Owl has informed me that a hand count of Silver and Gold dragons may join the effort. These had been contacted by Snow Flake, but no guarantees are to be made. We have the contingent of green dragons and drakes of Umbra Death about to engage several of the legions; they will not enter Essembra so long as no hostile moves are made against them.”

“Come then Sisters, let’s go and aid our friends and fellow Dale folks, Essembra must not fall,” Harvest said as she bowed to Lord Sea Mist and wished him good fortune for him and his forces in the battle. Then the three Song Dragons departed to join the two-dozen others who remained of the Sisters of Essembra.

When they joined the defenders at the wall in their dragon-shapes, the slaughter of Cronus’s forces escalated to new levels of savagery.

₰​

High Lord Cronus and his generals watched the first battles of Essembra with keen interest. The great image floated above their tables and assistants moved small figures that represented regiments and legions as they advanced, maneuvered, or retreated after a crushing blow was scored upon them.

“Blast the failure of the raid against Master Roerich and the Heartland River Expedition,” Cronus said. “Plus that of the Oceanic Wrack-dragons, somehow Roerich managed to destroy them all, and almost all of our agents in the expedition have fallen silent. Our forces of wyvern-riders, and the drakes would have been ideal to take down Essembra and the Song Dragons once and for all…”

“My Lord Cronus,” one general asked, “why not dispatch the four Draco-liches, they and the flights of dragons they have assembled at Crossing can be decisive at Essembra…or is it you have finally snapped and …”


The general screamed as black flames consumed his body and left only a charred skeleton within his armor that glowed from unholy heat. Everyone else in the room looked upon the skeleton as it fell backwards and smashed apart on the hard stone floor then came to perfect attention, lest their liege decide to make an example of another officer.

“I will tolerate differences of opinion to a point,” Cronus declared, “but when battle is joined that right is for the time suspended.” He turned to the late generals’ aide and said, “Colonel Hassek, you are now in charge of your predecessors command. Congratulations on your well deserved promotion General Hassek.”

High Lord Cronus turned back to the unfolding battle and scowled when the first of the Sisters of Essembra had joined Lord Julis’s men and held the breach. He turned to one of his generals and ordered, “Send in the entire compliment of Gray Renderers, real and false, to deal with the Song Dragon. When the wall is breached then the entire city will fall in short order. Have the northern legions assault en mass and press on to the walls…”

High Lord Cronus scowled as the images of his legions altered to show a flight of dragons entering into battle against his rearmost formations. “Damn the memory of Brother Hart, will I ever be rid of his influence even from beyond the grave?”

His generals watched as Umbra Death and his flight of dragons entered the battle on the side of Essembra.

Then came news that one legion had breached the city defenses and surmounted the walls…

₰​

Lord Julies led his men in a desperate counterattack as the first orcs climbed over the battlements and began to expand their foothold. “Come on, we have to drive them back,” he shouted to his men as they shouted and ran to engage the enemy. On the far side of the breach the screams of the dying filled the air, and a relentless tide of orcs and goblins continued to flow inward, determined to hold their hard-won position at all costs.

Moments ago that section of the wall had been held by an elite band of soldiers, then they vanished under a holocaust of fire and brimstone as the orc regiment scaled the walls. In the town proper, militia reserves and a handful of mercenaries sounded horns and called out for the improvised barriers to be manned, all of them knew if the breach was not sealed, the secondary line would hold only for a few minutes at best, and then the slaughter of all in Essembra would begin in earnest.

“Essembra forever!” he shouted, and his men took up the cry as the first of them struck into the orc forces.

The forces with Lord Julies fought with determined fury, and complete abandonment for their own safety. The orcs and goblins, momentarily caught off guard by the counterattack, fell back and perished as they were pinned by the relentless tide of flesh behind them.

Lord Julies, retired Knight of Essembra, his magical blade blazing with holy and righteous might, shone like a newborn star on the battlements. Time and again his men were pushed back, bending but stubbornly refusing to be broken. More and more orc-kin and goblin-kin poured over the walls, soon to be joined by ogre-kin and even a gathering of giants who rushed the nearest gate with a huge battering ram of wood and steel.

The first impact of the ram on the gate shook the walls to their foundations. Then came the second and a third in rapid succession; all knew the gate would not withstand a fourth strike. Behind the improvised barricades that lay before the gate Essembra militia, strengthened by a handful of seasoned Knights, priests and magicians made final preparations to make their stand. Many also said their final farewells and last prayers as they knew when the gate fell, they would last mere seconds before the orc-legion beyond.


Lord Julies raged at the giants and mounted the battlement, determined to leap down among them and buy as much time as he could with his life. Arrows and spears flew around him as he shouted to his men, and became the living embodiment of a true warrior who feared nothing to defend his home and his people.

A great roar echoed from the skies as a trio of massive green dragons, each over fifty feet in length, swept down from the skies. The ground shook as they landed among the giants and enemy formations before the gate, and raked with tooth, claw, wing and spells in a flurry of emerald-green death. To their credit the giants fought hard and to the last, a gallant stand that delayed their inevitable death and dismemberment by a whole ten seconds.

The militia and soldiers of Lord Julies continued onward, emboldened by the appearance of these great dragon allies – allies for the moment to be sure, but allies none the less. Other soldiers and militia, magicians, and retired Knights of Essembra joined in the counterassault from the other side and slowly the mass of orc-kin and goblin-kin began to retreat under the relentless pressure.

Finally, the arrival of a large Song Dragon – Silver Heart – who unleashed her lightning breath on the hoard of invaders four times in rapid succession broke the assault. The orc-kin and their follow on regiments retreated in near panic, and the defenders cheered at their success. The green dragons, their emerald scales glistening like a trove of gems in the sunlight, smiled and saluted Silver Heart, then turned and pursued the scattering legions as they sought to have as much fun as they could.

The defenders continued round after round of cheers to this defeat of their enemy. But in short order the good feelings were tempered by the revelation that Lord Julies had died. His body was found among three-score of elite orc warriors who had gained the battlements, and who paid for their audacity at his hands, until a spear pierced his armor and entered his heart.

“You will always be remembered fondly my child,” Silver Heart said, a great tear fell along her cheek, as she said her final goodbyes to her eldest son.

Silver Heart looked back over the battlements and watched the three green dragons destroy more and more of the enemy legions. No matter that Essembra’s walls had held against the first assaults, she knew the battle was far from over…

The massive forms of the Gray Renderers, each nearly thirty feet high, massive muscled-limbs and thick-boned bodies resonated with primordial power. Around them flowed rank upon rank of Ice-drakes, Furnace-drakes and colossal Mountain-drakes that were little more than massive, four-legged, armored siege-machines.

“This is not going to be good,” Silver Heart said as she prepared to engage the enemy in battle. She knew that a lone Song Dragon against a Gray Renderer had no chance of victory, let alone survival. Only a miracle could save the walls from falling and the massacre of all within the city when the Renderers arrived.

Silver Heart climbed onto the roof of a nearby tower and spread her great wings, determined to take at least some of the drakes with her. “My child Julian, I will dance with you in the halls of the Father of All Dragons in a few minutes. We will both have done our duty…’

Then the very heavens lit up like a noonday sun…

₰₰ One hundred twenty ₰₰​

Umbra Death, the great green dragon of the southern woods, looked down on the advancing legions of High Lord Cronus. He made a quick series of calculations and decided his course of action that will bring a savage and decisive ending to at least three legions, and if all goes well, a fourth, before any significant resistance can be formed.

Through the song of all dragons he communicated with his fellow green dragons and the many drakes that held their loyalty to him alone. “Strike hard with spells and then breathe weapons, three passes over each legion in line. Once that is finished melee fighters descend and finish the job, the remaining spell casters are to hit other legions to the best effect. Now let’s remind these orcs and High Lord Cronus what it means to be true dragons.”

Umbra Death roared a challenge to the first legion below and then chanted the words to his most powerful of spells. He used his esoteric knowledge to amplify the area the spell would cover and chained it to replicate in twelve nearby locations. When finished, a soft blue-green sphere leaped from his forepaws and hurled unto the ground into which it vanished.

The orc-kin, ogre-kin and giants looked upward and laughed. They commenced to choke and writhe as a chain of great green gaseous clouds emerged from thirteen locations; all of those caught up within the cloud perished as it flowed down the hillside and unto the next legion.

The other dragons and drakes unleashed barrage after barrage of spells that incinerated, electrocuted, froze, crushed, mangled, mutilated, flattened or did worse things to those caught within their grasp. The legions thus targeted died by the battalion, unable to defend themselves, and further rendered helpless by the waves of true dragon-fear that swept over them.

Umbra Death spotted the Gray Renderers advancing towards a section of the city wall, and his preternaturally keen senses confirmed his suspicion. The beasts were dominated by the will of High Lord Cronus using a very unstable magical ritual, one that he could sunder without great difficulty…and a heartbeat later it was done in a flash of brilliant light.

“That will teach Cronus to mess with such beasties,” Umbra Death declared, glad for one time in his life that Brother Hart had taught him the mighty ‘Disjunction of Domination’ magic. “I wonder if he knew I would need it on this day, and in this place. It would not surprise me in the least given his ability to see so far into the future as he needed or desired…”

Umbra Death saw the slender Song Dragon, Silver Heart stare in slack-jawed wonder as the Gray Renderers turned their fury on the drakes that accompanied them into the battle. He waggled his wings at her, a sign of draconian respect, before he circled around to rejoin his forces. They had achieved better results than he had expected with nearly five legions annihilated…

Then a massive slab of heated stone slammed into Umbra Death and shattered his ribcage. He had no time to focus on flight or his magic to save himself as he crashed hard into unyielding earth, and crushed three-score of orcs and ogres in the process. With a final roar of defiance and a life fulfilled to its fullest, Umbra Death passed from this world unto the next.

₰​

Lord Sea Mist looked at his group of High Magicians from the elven kingdom. The meeting hall shook again and again as the enemy magicians continued to hurl slabs of burning stone into the city. A deep rumble told all that one or more large structures had succumbed and now tumbled to the earth.

“Have you managed to find the magicians doing this?” Lord Sea Mist asked of his magicians.

“We have my lord,” High Mage Cloud Leopard stated, “and we have not been able to breach their magical defenses, despite the best efforts we can combine against them. Please let me show you here…” Cloud Leopard pointed to a glowing field of light which displayed a two-score count of enemy magicians. Every two minutes they focused upon specific areas of the city and unleashed their flaming slabs of stone. A series of ghostly white mystical wards surrounded them, wards strong enough to deny most magic from harming them.

The chamber shook again and again as the next volley of faming stone descended into the city.

“So you have tried everything to breach that ward?’ Lord Sea Mist declared, his anger clearly manifest for all to see and experience. “Incompetence as always, what are the High Magicians of our land coming to anymore when a simple series of mystical wards defies their imagination and knowledge. Let me show you how it’s done and learn this lesson well…”

He focused his will and mind on the image before him, and let his senses flow across the battlefield to where the enemy magicians were concentrated. In a heartbeat he detected all the mystical barriers that warded them. And knew his hunch had been right all along, the barriers were minimal, designed to decoy and fool magicians from trying to destroy or breach them.

Lord Sea Mist clenched his fist and cast a spell of pure devastation that summoned forth the primal savagery of the earth and of nature in one. Three massive waves of raw stone, debris, snow and ice, and magma from the heart of the earth arose and surged inward to consume the magicians in a tsunami of death.

“That is how you settle such matters,” Lord Sea Mist said. “Now then, we still have other battles continuing and we need to go and help them. Our armies have decimated the northern legions to the point they are scattered to the four winds, and from the west the flight of dragons led by Umbra Death have chased off or destroyed those legions.”

One of his healers called for him and whispered into his ear.

“Are you sure?” Lord Sea Mist asked. When the healer nodded yes, Lord Sea Mist closed his eyes and offered a prayer for the fallen. He turned to face the High Magicians and sadly stated, “I have to go and inform the other Sisters of Essembra that their leader Owl, had died. The roof caved in upon her and she never awoke…”

“How many more must fall before this day is done?” Lord Sea Mist asked as he rushed out the door. He shook his head at the carnage and devastation unleashed by the enemy magicians. “So much devastation and so many lives cut short, how much more blood must flow because of the stupidity of beings such as Cronus…”

He heard the sound of three horns from the nearby wall, the sounds meant to be a final warning of a wall or a gate having been breached…

₰​

“Here they come, make ready and stand your ground,” Lady Claudia said to her militia troops. She stood atop a large overturned wagon and held her spear low among a phalanx of shield bearers. Up and down the lines she heard the final prayers being made, while priests and magicians cast their last magic to protect the troops as best as they could.

Minutes before the eastern trade gate had been secured by enemy infiltrators and flung open. Seconds later there was a full battalion of human mercenaries pouring through the gap, followed by a regiment, then a legion of the forces of High Lord Cronus. The closest army and militia forces lasted less than three minutes, and two of the great Song Dragons fell with them.

Unrelenting pressure and deadly battle magic pushed the defenders of Essembra to the breaking point. Now Lady Claudia stood at the last defensible location, and if they broke, the slaughter to follow will be immense. The horns sounded a last warning to all who can hear: if aid is not sent immediately, all is lost.

The human legionnaires advanced in a tight formation, shields and spears interlocked in a phalanx that would brush them aside instantly. Archers fired off volley after volley of arrows to no effect, and some of the militia decided enough was enough and bolted for their homes, determined to die with their families in their arms.

“We have to do this the hard way then,” Lady Claudia declared as she dropped her spear and unsheathed her long sword, “Militia, forward and hit them hard…For Essembra!”

“For Essembra!” the militia shouted and joined in the charge…

​

₰​

High Lord Cronus watched the battle with ever growing fury as his troops suffered setback upon setback, by the stubborn defenders of Essembra. His entire world was turning on its head and he felt the power of the Far Realm stir within his soul. The nightmarish entity that merged with him after Night Shades death whispered the means by which he could change the battle, and unleash a wave of death across the world…

“Show me this means to crush my enemies once and for all…” Cronus ordered the entity.

Cronus roared in rage and pain. So vast and powerful, so utterly alien, foul, corrupt and unholy was the secret that his very mind snapped. At that instant the creature of the Far Realms engulfed his soul and annihilated it completely.

Cronus’s generals and court members watched in awe-struck horror as they beheld High Lord Cronus’s body consumed in black flames of eternal darkness; then they felt and heard the rending of the very reality of the world about them, and perished a moment later as the flames erupted across the palace and then across the city of Ashabenford.

Waves of amethyst-black lightning rolled across the lands of Mistledale and consumed all life that they touched, melted and twisted the very rocks and stone, and unleashed a holocaust of devastation as reality warped into a twisted parody of the real world.



From the heart of this devastation arose the Far Realm creature, a dragon-shaped monstrosity of pure insanity and darkness. Its body absorbed all light into darkness so deep even eternity is lost within. Five great dragon heads lifted up to the heavens and roared in unison that the old world has passed, a new world, under a new king had begun from this moment onward.

“None are my equal on this world, no one being can stand against me…” the creature stated.

In a moment it learned the folly of its words, for not one being stood against it, but two, bound heart and soul by their love…

₰​

Pressed to the limits of her endurance, Snow Cat screamed as the magical forces she struggled to contain burned away at her body. She fought through the pain and continued on with the magical ritual that allowed her and Roerich to bind it into a spell beyond most beings dreams and understanding, a magic that even few of the great elven High Magicians would dare to cast, for fear of the devastation they would unleash.

Then she felt the great gash in reality centered on Ashabenford, and knew the creature of the Far Realm now could be dealt with. “Now Roerich, it has to be now!” she shouted to him, and poured all of her being into the magical weave, and screamed as her world vanished in a blaze of golden flame which consumed her completely.

₰​

The creature of the Far Realm screamed when the heavens above it split in twain and the cry of the Phoenixsounded out. In a heartbeat the legendary fire-bird formed and spread its glorious wings of flame that embodied truth, honor, justice, holiness and law and order. The eyes of both creatures met and knew the battle was over before it even began, as the madness and nightmare of the Far Realm dissolved in the face of the Phoenix.

The Far Realm creature screamed as it ceased to be, annihilated from the cosmos completely.

The great fire-bird looked over the devastation around Mistledale and cried off a final prayer for the dead and in its wings gathered the soft blue-white spheres – the souls of those slain by the creatures’ unholy presence – to take into the next world with it.

One sphere though remained, unable to join with the Phoenix for the trip to the next world as the great fire-bird explained that a different destiny awaited it…

With that, the Phoenixdeparted for the celestial heavens, and the gently floating soul-orb drifted onto its own destiny, unsure of what fate awaited it…

₰₰ Conclusion ₰₰​

Lord Sea Mist wandered the ruined city, and cried for so many dead that lay across the final line of battle. In the distance he heard the last crackling flames consume the Hall of Healing, a hospital established as a hospital. The enemy had torched the place after putting all of the injured and their caretakers to the sword, and thus enraged the defenders of Essembra as nothing else could have.

Four solid hours of hard fighting followed. Time and again the enemy had been repulsed by a combination of the elves, humans and Song Dragons, but their losses climbed with each effort, until at long last the inevitable occurred: the line tore asunder on the Essembian right flank.

Harvest, the Song Dragon, led a final, all-out counterattack with a dozen of the Sisters of Essembra and their agents and allies to seal the breach. Ultimately they had to fall back as well, after Harvest and Cloud Dancer plus three other Song Dragons fell to the enemy; six other of the Song Dragons were so badly wounded they passed from this world within the same hour.

“So many fell, so much waste of life and potential to the ugliness of war,” Lord Sea Mist said to the one who walked with him. “If you and your associates had not arrived, we would have lost everything…” he found himself unable to say anything else, such was the presence of his companion.

“High Lord Cronus was a minor player among all the worlds I watch over Lord Sea Mist,” the man said, his fine platinum hair fluttered in the slight evening breeze. He adjusted his exquisite coat-of-mail not made by mortal hands. “But the fact is, he is a force on this world joined with the abominations of the Far Realm, and one who is of dragon-blood. He allowed by his choices to let the creature end his existence and thus pass from the realm of the living.”

Bahamut, Father of All Dragons looked upon Lord Sea Mist with sadness in his eternal eyes. “The Sisters of Essembra are among the handful of Song Dragons left in this world. So many of them have fallen to the agents or the armies of High Lord Cronus, that I had to intervene to save the remnant left. I also have taken personal umbrage at Cronus’s desire to exterminate the dragons within the Dales and the surrounding lands. Essembra had to be held, and it gave me the perfect opportunity to come and help.”

“The timing could have been better, as you showed up when the Sisters had given their all and we were at the end of our rope,” Lord Sea Mist said with some anger.

“Lord Sea Mist,” Bahamut said to him, “understand this much. Even among the divine beings of the celestial kingdoms, we can only intervene directly as I did here when certain conditions come together. The fact that the Song Dragons willingly sacrificed their lives for the good of all the other people of Essembra opened the door for me to act. Snowflake prayed for me to intervene as well, and even Snow Cat returned to see me for a second time…”

“Somehow I take it she was somewhat reluctant to take ‘no’ for an answer,” Lord Sea Mist asked.

“Actually she was very polite and turned every argument of mine back in my face,” Bahamut shook his head and held a bemused smile on his face. “I finally agreed to act if the door opened for me to do so, and thus I am here along with four-score of my greatest servants: Gold and Silver dragons of vast age and capability. Though any one of them pales in comparison to Snow Cat; her day in the sun is far from ended, same as with Roerich, Marcus and Hanna.”



“Is there anything you can do for the Song Dragons who fell in the fight?” Lord Sea Mist inquired.

“No, they have secured their place in the heavenly realms of all dragon-kind, as is their right,” Bahamut said, “change has come to the Dales and your world for all of time. I cannot undo what mortals have set into action. I can, as with all of the divine such as myself, only assist those who we have influence over…thus for me it is the dragons who are good of heart and spirit…or those who from birth never had a chance to learn who and what they truly are among dragon-kind.”

When Lord Sea Mist inquired further as to this last cryptic reference Bahamut only smiled.

“I must leave in a few days, but for the next hundred years I will allow the four-score of Gold and Silvers to stay and aid in the recovery of Essembra,” Bahamut said, “Even Shadowdale and Daggerdale will recover in the fullness of time, but what they will become, for good or bad, only the elves and the humans of the Dales can determine…”

“Not to mention one crazy human called Roerich and a trio of insanely eccentric dragons called Hanna, Marcus and Snow Cat,” Lord Sea Mist stated. “Thus through them, even if only indirectly, you will have some sort of influence in the new Dales…”

“Only if those four wish it to be,” Bahamut flatly stated, “I will not impose my will upon them. If they seek my guidance they can find me, same as with any dragon in the depths of the Song of all dragons. Mortals must have the free-will to do as they wish, for good or bad, and that is what makes them both exciting and frustrating all in one…then there are the elves and other non-dragon species…’

Lord Sea Mist laughed at that, then stated, “We have won today, and I can only hope the future of the Dales will be worth the cost so many have paid in this war. Now then, what has become of High Lord Cronus’s forces? Or do we still have to stop them as well?”

“No, Mistledale perished to the last being when the Far Realm entity fully emerged into this world,” Bahamut stated, “all of the creatures, including the four Draco-liches, who swore allegiance to Cronus fell as well. The magical spells Cronus used to bind their very wills to his command allowed the Far Realm beast to slay them as well.”

“The fact is Snow Cat and Roerich combined their abilities into one, and summoned the Phoenixas Brother Hart did with Night Shade.” Bahamut continued, “Unlike Brother Hart, who summoned it knowing full well he would perish in the end, the choice of those two, bound together by love and respect and hope in a brighter future, allowed them to survive. Snow Cat assumed she would perish in the magical ritual she conducted.”

“I watched the ritual that she and Roerich conducted, and her physical body was consumed by the spell,” Lord Sea Mist stated as utter confusion swept over him. “So what happened if she still lives?”

“Why do you not go and ask her yourself?” Bahamut said as he walked off to speak with the Sisters of Essembra.

“That sounds like a good idea, but in another day. I have enough to do here to help those who lost loved ones and so much more,” Lord Sea Mist said as he moved off to do what he could for Essembra’s survivors.

₰​

Snow Cat looked from the glistening river unto her husband Roerich and smiled. She sought the words to tell him all that had happened, unsure if she even believed it herself.

“I honestly don’t know what fully happened, other than the magic tore my body and very being apart when I unleashed the accumulated power.” She shrugged her shoulders here and continued, “other than this, both of us are immortal beings, ones of the celestial realms due to the Phoenix being present within us. The fire-bird is an agent of transformation, of cleansing and healing, but one of rebirth and renewal. It is a being of pure spirit and of mind energy, akin to the Force-Dragons.”

“Snow Cat, I sensed you ‘die’ in a way, and then you reemerged in the world amidst a blast of golden flame,” Roerich said, “nothing of you had changed. Yet I sensed that, as the last vestiges of the holy flames dissipated from around you, something had changed. Have you lost your dragon-heritage and are now a normal cat-girl? I know that is what you have desired for so much of your life?”

Snow Cat hesitated and gnawed on her lower lip for a time before she asked of him, “Would it matter if I no longer was a Draco’were? Could you be content with having an ordinary cat-girl for a wife?”

“Snow Cat, I love YOU, and for whom you are, not what you are,” Roerich said. “So you are just an ordinary cat-girl now?”

She eased herself against him and smiled, “No my husband, I am still a full-fledged Draco’were, one who has learned to dream and dare to follow those dreams, even through the darkest of nights. I dared to love you, and I have succeeded beyond my wildest of dreams. I dared, in time and with great trepidation, to seek out what was among the dreams of mine about dragons. I have done as Hanna did with Marcus, and as Dame Lae’lion is now doing.”

Snow Cat giggled at the expression on Roerich’s face, “yes she is a Draco’were as I am. Though one quite a bit less reckless than me and in time she will become a great influence for justice, goodness and order; she will bring the Knights of Essembra and the Sisters of Essembra together with the wolf-were’s who are making their new home in the region.”

“How will that happen?” Roerich asked.

“She had agreed to be Badgers second-wife,” Snow Cat said, “and she took a roll with him among the covers one evening. She’s going to have a girl-child, just like Foxy, in a few more months. Marcus and Hanna are even now heading off for a short time, as she has come into the dragon mating-time, and they want to start their family as soon as possible…”

“I hope someday we can have a child of our own Snow Cat,” Roerich said, “If we can find some way to deal with your inability to have one…” He stopped and looked at her as she squealed and flushed from head to toe in embarrassment. Her tail twitched just so and he caught the hidden meaning in her reaction.

Roerich swept Snow Cat up in her arms and spun her around as he whooped up a storm. Snow Cat joined him in his celebration.

₰​

So it is that the journey and the Saga of Snow Cat have come to its end.

She, Master Roerich, Marcus and Hanna became a force for good in the region and led the efforts to reclaim the desolate regions of Shadowdale, Daggerdale and Mistledale. The river-route was fully opened and new settlers flooded into the lands, determined to rebuild and reclaim all that had been lost. Other settlers joined the small communities along the route at Hap-tooth Hill, Broken Bridges, and the Three Tributaries.

In the fullness of time one other event marked a dream fulfilled for Snow Cat and Roerich…

Snow Cat bore them a girl-child, one that she knew Bahamut had reincarnated from the battered soul of her first child Cronus, in the hope that goodness will come forth and replace the evil that he knew. Her name, in the language of all dragons is Ampheria, which means, when translated: Hope of a better tomorrow.




(fin

 

A final thanks and cheers to the fans who have made To Dream of Dragons III: Saga of Snow Cat a dream come true for me.

Dare to dream, and to pursue those dreams as you deem best; for in the pursuit of those dreams, is where life it truly lived unto its fullest.

 

Thank-you snow for the ride, may you continue to have the adventures that you seek.

 

Saw this and thought about you Snow

 

Welcome Ed Itor, without some of your advice on improving my style of writing the story would have been much, much less worthy of reading. This same thanks goes to all others who have aided me in becoming a better writer.

Thank you.

 

Spam reported.

 

One response to answer the question - will there be more To Dream of Dragons in the future?

Only time will tell...for dragons fly in unexpectedly and when one dreams, none may say upon what they will become and what shall be found...

For in the land of dream, dragons do abound...

 

:rose:

 

Bilal: and your point is?

Right now I only see that you have quoted one part of the story (the second chapter), without any other explanation than a 'mad' icon attached.