Well, the new semester's starting up so don't expect much from me. I finally got my hands on FE Fates! In some ways its really amusing (Thank god I don't have to worry about breaking weapons anymore!) but in some ways it was disappointing. I have yet to finish the story though so I guess we'll see. Azura's Hymn thing is a reaaaaaaally nice song though, singing it has is ridiculously calming effect (on me).

There's a bit of a blurb later on where I try to rationalize the 'class' changes and headcannon the ENTIRE WYVERN SPECIES. You know, the whole, why are they different colours etc.

Opinions on my Wyvern headcannons are welcome.

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This Dragon Plots

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"Mark, wake up. We've arrived at Bethroen. Mark!"

"Mm?" The tactician mumbled blearily, eyes drifting open.

Heath, dressed in full armour again, was worriedly hovering over his friend. Despite the darkened light of twilight, Mark could easily make out his distinctive streak of white hair among the dark green locks. The Tactician yawned blindly, feeling wretched. His mouth tasted like old socks, specifically, like the kind that Hector had after a day of fighting. Mark knew the taste intimately from when the lord would inevitably lose a pair and he would wake up the next morning with the grungy things lying on his pillow. There was no proof, but nearly everybody who had suffered the same were convinced that Matthew had something to do with it.

If Mark had any say about it, he would happily drop back to sleep, no matter the uncomfortable surface. Unfortunately for his peace, his backrest was moving in preparation to get up. With hazy eyes and swearing foul enough to strip paint, he conceded his defeat and made to rise. He struggled upright with leaden limbs, using the scaly flank behind him as support.

He rubbed sleep from his eyes and yawned. Jaffar was standing sentinel over the small group, eyeballing the nervous sailors as they went about their duties with his emotionless unnerving glare. The Ex-Fang Hurricane was engaged in spirited haggling with the ship's captain over the final payment. From the playful slaps the thief was giving the bulky fellow and the winks he was sending Nino, the Captain had yet to realize that Legault had already stolen back some of the gold he had payed. Sweet little Nino was giggling furiously into her hand at her 'uncle's antics.

Mark smiled faintly. Then the ship tipped a little harshly to the side, in the wake of a larger ship docking. As the floor lurched under him again, Mark's knees unexpectedly folded. The Wyvern Lord let out a small noise of surprise, lunging forward to catch the Tactician.

The sleepy dragon just yawned into his saviour's face and squirmed away from where part of Heath's armour was digging into his side.

Heath just let out a fond huff, lifting his pseudo-brother's too light form up. With some fuss, he deposited Mark on Hyperion's saddle. The glare the man gave him at the manhandling was greatly diminished by his exhausted hunched over form and deathly pale complexion. He didn't look like he could swat a fly, much less get retaliation. Hyperion craned his head back by his passenger, crooning as the cloying smell of illness around his second favourite human.

Legault sauntered over to the duo, done with the arrangements with the Ship's Captain, leering at Heath as was the norm.

"So boss, we got a plan?"

Mark nodded weakly, his tawny eyes sharp. "First we get us out of the town. We need at least a day to get our feet under us. I... don't think I can take more travel right now."

Legault nodded sharply, the motion doing nothing to hide the flicker of worry in his amethyst eyes. In the next moment, he was all business.

"Jaffar, take Nino and find us a good place for the night. Mark, can you take flying?"

"Eh, I guess we'll find out."

The knight took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in aggravation. "Mark." He enunciated slowly. "That's a yes or no question. I don't want to be a league aloft and you deciding to throw up over the side."

The shorter man shrugged. "I think I'll be fine."

Legault nodded, carefully braiding his hair back and tucking into his collar. "Okay, in that case, Heath, circle on Hyperion until I give you the signal to land. I'll scout out information about the country and the current conflicts."

The silent Angel of Death inclined his head slightly, ushering his charge into the crowds. Despite their obviously foreign appearance, they melded into the crowd effortlessly. It spoke volumes about Jaffar's level of skill, and Nino's own abilities after such a long time with an assassin.

Heath, vaulted onto his mount's back effortlessly, sitting behind Mark to ensure the tactician would not fall. The Knight didn't even bother to look for Legault, knowing that the thief had already finished hiding his distinctive characteristics, pulled up his cloak's hood and slipped away. Careful of the Wyvern's great weight, he prompted Hyperion to shuffle awkwardly off the boat, ducking frequently to avoid rigging. Several sailors were pointing fingers and staring. Heath shifted in discomfort, time as a deserter embedding the idea of attention being a bad thing, none of his unrest showed on his stony face. Granted, it was probably rare to see a full-fledged Wyvern Lord that belonged to no army. The minute he judged they were clear of the rigging in the immediate area, he tightened his knees around his mount.

Hyperion, understanding the nonverbal command, crouched and half opened his wings. Heath gripped the reigns and tugged back on them lightly. The Wyvern roared and launched off the dock, startling several workers. Mark let out his own yelp at being jarred. Following his rider's slight commands, Hyperion circled around the dock before veering off to sweep over the entire city.

The familiar feel of wind racing past him and the lurch of Wyvern's wing beats made a wide grin break Heath's stern facade. Being in the air relaxed him like nothing else, something Hyperion agreed with entirely. The ship ride over was a nightmare, being grounded for so long. The only way to get off had been to riskily tip over the edge of the ship. Hyperion had had to do the dangerous maneuver once, to catch fish to feed himself.

Despite being lost in the wondrous feeling of flight; Heath couldn't help but note the layout of the seaside city. The soldier in him, systematically noted the roads out of Bethroen and defensible points in the streets. He circled, noting optimal places for archers and choke points for enemies. It was second nature to look out for archers, even though he had a Delphi shield now. Out of all the flyers of the army, it had been decided that he was the one most in need of it and Mark had let him keep it when they disbanded. The magical item that protected a flyer's vulnerable wings was solidly fastened around the wyvern's neck, also protecting the softer patch of scales at the base of the neck.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of silver flashing in the fading sunset. It blinked in a designated pattern, signaling him to land.

"Mark, you alright?"

The young man opened a tawny eye sleepily and waved his hand in a floppy dismissal. Heath sighed and tugged on the reigns again.

"Slow descent Hyperion, Mark might get sick again."

The mount gave an offended huff, even as their flight began to gently slope downward. Even at the slight descent, they dropped at quite a rate, until the Knight could make out the form of Legault standing outside a large stable with his palm-sized signaling mirror. With all the precision and aerial skill of someone who had been flying for years, the duo coordinated their touchdown neatly to not jar their passenger.

"Got space for Hyperion in the stable." Legault said, uncharacteristically grim. "How's Mark?"

"Sleeping again. I take it there's no good news?"

"No." Legault shook his head. "There's a war between the country we're in, Grado, and practically every other country. Everything was peaceful a month ago, then Grado attacked Renais unprovoked and conquered them with the surprise attack. It's not looking good."

Heath raised an eyebrow as he lowered Mark's unconscious body down into the thief's arms.

"Unprovoked attack after centuries of peace? Were there sour relations?"

Legault's jaw clenched as he adjusted his grip on the Lord Tactician. "That's the thing. The royal families were close friends. This caught everyone by surprise."

Heath whistled in surprise, digging through Hyperion's saddlebags. "How much do you want to bet Mark's going to get us involved? Purely by accident?"

The Hurricane laughed, his seriousness falling from his features like water. "I'm not taking that one. I suppose I'll have to save the rest for Mark to hear."

"I'll settle down Hyperion for the night, then."

"Right, we have two separate rooms. You're rooming in Room 4 with me as usual-"

The Wyvern Lord groaned and banged his head on his Wyvern's side. Said beast craned his neck back to look at his partner with amusement.

"-Nino is going to be looking after Mark in Room 3. She's more likely to know what to do anyway. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Heath grumbled. "I'm not an idiot, what do you take me for?"

Legault winked, back to his usual light hearted, flirtatious self. "I dunno, the eye candy?" He playfully blew into the knight's ear as he passed, his arms still full of snoozing strategist.

Like clockwork, the easily flustered Knight flushed red and squawked. "Legault!"

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"Okay, what do you have to report?"

After two days of plenty sleep and nutritious stew, Mark looked far better. His pasty white complexion had gained some colour, even his perpetual dark circles under his eyes had faded some. Nino, however, persistently refused to let him even think of leaving yet. Due to the fifteen-year old's strict orders, their tactical meeting was being held around Mark's bed. No one bothered to argue with the overpowered sage as she waved around her heal staff for emphasis on the matter.

No one in the group had very good Resistance against magic so when Nino decided something, it was law. No one could resist her puppy dog eyes anyway. Even the stoic and hardened assassin Angel of Death, caved under the fearsome technique.

Currently, she was precariously perched on the bedpost staring firmly at Mark, watching for the slightest bit of discomfort. Jaffar, loomed behind her in his usual post as her self-appointed bodyguard. Heath had found an uncomfortable stool that he had dragged to the bedside. The thief had plopped himself on the Tactician's bed with little care, the serious frown back on his face.

Mark's ever-present green cloak had been removed and draped over the end bed posts. Without the bulk of green cloth to add physical size to match his strong personality, he looked deceptively frail and fragile. This appearance was firmly dissuaded by the fierce edge of genius blazing like a flame in his tawny gold eyes. Sitting up, resting on the headboard behind him he fixed the thief with a firm gaze. This was no longer Mark, their brilliant friend with health problems. This was Lord Tactician Marken, who single handedly, commanded a small group back and forth over the continent to take out a massive organization and an ancient fire dragon from the days of the Scouring.

"To begin with, in terms of formal 'Units', the magic users have become more diverse. Mages can become horseback 'Mage knights', they wield staves and anima. The Sages here also use Light. The Valkaries here use Light instead of anima. As for the Dark magic users..."

"Are they stronger over here?" Mark commented grimly, storing all the information firmly in his great archive of tactical information."

"Their druids use anima and apparently there is a second rare class of 'Summoner'. They use dark and staves but their danger comes from their ability to summon a monster to fight for them. The higher ranked they are, the more powerful the monster is."

"Monsters?" Nino piped up. "Like morphs?"

Legault shrugged. "No idea. Getting that information alone was difficult enough."

"Any other surprises?"

"I have no idea how they came up with the idea but they have 'Great Knights' literally a General on a horse. Weirdest idea ever. How do they even get horses that can handle all that weight?!"

Mark frowned, rubbing his chin lightly. "I'd imagine it would increase their range in battle, but they'd be disadvantaged if their horse is cut down. Being so heavy, their horses wouldn't be able to dodge as well as a Paladin. If they have such heavy armour it would be quite difficult for them to recover if they lose their mount...not like a Paladin or Cavalier. But if their horses are as heavily armored as they are, it might work. They also wouldn't have a General's 'Great Sheild'..."

After several minutes of muttering, Mark drew himself up. "I think; I will need to observe one of these 'Great Knights' to fully grasp their combat ability. Legault, is there anything else?"

The lilac haired thief smirked lightly. "Heath, you're gonna love this."

The Wyvern Lord gave his friend an apprehensive look, the appropriate response when the Hurricane smirked like that.

"Apparently, Pegasus and Wyvern Riders get an option to switch their mounts on promotion."

"WHAT?" Heath spluttered. "How coul-? I mean-"

"It's a rare practice. The people I asked say there aren't many of these 'Wyvern Knights' around. They use a particularly vicious sub-species of Wyvern, found only on Magvel. They have no front legs. 'cause of that, their riders can't use swords. They have to use lances to reach past their mount's wingspan. The riders tend to be highly skilled in lance use to make up for it. Combined with the momentum of a Wyvern, they say they can 'pierce' anything."

Now it was Heath's turn to descend into muttering. "If they have no front legs...Their wingspan must be enormous to compensate. They'd be monsters in the air if they can easily reach superior air height..."

"Bad news?"

The Knight nodded distractedly. "...wait...they'd be less intelligent. The riders won't have good bonds with their beasts if they're so feral. There would be flaws in commands. A skilled, bonded Wyvern Lord should be able to overpower one."

Heath nodded decisively. "I haven't seen one yet, but I believe Hyperion and I can handle one. He's at least twelve years old, quite old for a battle Wyvern. We'd have experience superiority."

Mark nodded in agreement along with him.

Wyverns, the Elibian kind at least, or to be more specific, the Bernese Kind, grew larger the longer they live. In the wild, a strong Matriarch or Alpha Wyvern can live for as long as a century or more. Wyverns were resistant species and shared a link with dragons. Around a third of the species had kept the dragon longevity trait. Dragons never aged per se, they accumulated more power as the years passed. Some lucky Wyverns get this ability but few reach a lengthy lifespan to get any benefit. Theoretically, if a Wyvern survived a full ten centuries it could class as a dragon. It never happened of course, so it was all wild speculation.

The kind especially close to the Bern capital had short life expectancy as when their young kept getting taken to be raised as mounts, it drove them to be very competitive for survival amongst the mountains. They brutally fought amongst each other for defend-able positions for their nests.

Those Wyverns were mostly the ones used by Bern as mounts, feral red ones in all shades, large dependable brown ones and shades of gray and muted colours. The muted colours were an attempt of camouflage in the barren mountains. Away from the harsh mountains, their lifespans would be tripled if they weren't used as military beasts of burden. They rarely lived past six years unless ridden by a skilled or talented rider who made the rank of Wyvern Lord. Vaida and Umbriel had been one of those rare ones. Umbriel had been a particularly nasty piece of work, a large scarred gray Matriarch with red-brown wing sails.

The ones further from humanity band together in peaceful packs that live long natural lives. Though less violent, they possess greater intelligence. They lived in more hospitable regions of the mountains that actually possessed greenery. Those came in widely varied shades of Green and blue.

The story behind Hyperion was quite a tale. The Wyvern possessed a deep green gleam to his scales, clearly not a standard Bern Wyvern and far older than a military Wyvern had a right to be. The truth was, when Heath was a young ten-year-old boy he traveled into the Bern Mountains alone. It was a dangerous task for a ten-year-old but his family was running on harsh times and he thought to go hunting to gather some meat for winter. Archery was not his strong suit but he managed. He luckily stumbled across a forest area ripe with game several hours in. After he had taken down three hares to his delight, he heard the piteous wailing of a Wyvern fledgling.

He instinctively ducked, as any Bernese knew to do. The cry of a hatchling meant irate overprotective mothers. When nothing happened, he inched forward and was greeted by the sight of a green hatchling howling over its mother's body. He offered the hatchling a rabbit and that was that. Hyperion never left his side after that.

The addition of a natural predator to the family made hunting ridiculously easy. He also worked as a nice heater in winter. Within two years, Heath was flying bareback on Hyperion all the time. At the time he had no idea how strange that was. Thankfully, the boy was rather scrawny in his younger years so Hyperion could carry him easily. To make themselves useful, he trained Hyperion to lift heavy objects and produce for the other farmers in the area.

It was only when he entered the Bern military after his parent's deaths that he realized how extraordinary his ability to communicate with Hyperion was. He also realized that Hyperion was a rare colour as there wasn't a single green Wyvern in the army. Upon seeing his talent with his mount, he was fast tracked into becoming a Wyvern rider at age seventeen and quickly snatched up to join Vaida's Raiders. His combat skill was mediocre but his immense skill with Hyperion made up for it.

"Even so, we should remain wary of those two 'units' as we know little of their attack habits." Mark stated firmly.

"Sounds good." Nino chirped, swinging her legs.

"Legault, what's Lore and current rumour around here. Are there any rumours of Dragons?"

The ex-Fang scowled, pulling out a map of their new continent. Making sure the tactician could see, he started pointing.

"Okay, apparently there was this big Demon King a few centuries ago-"

"Demon King?" Mark mused. "How curious..."

"...yeah, five great warriors defeated him...blah, blah...they formed five countries, Renais, Frelia, Grado, Jehenna, Rausten. Up here we have a Merchant country formed a few decades ago." Legault jabbed out each location on the faded parchment.

"Alright...?"

"Now, last month, Grado suddenly attacks Renais out of nowhere. There haven't been any serious wars in generations, the royal heirs were very close friends actually. Caught off guard, Renais was taken quickly and their king, Fado, was killed. The princess, Erika, escaped. Now they're attacking Frelia. The Emperor of Grado, Vigarde, who everyone says is a very gentle man is suddenly ordering executions and brutal tactics all of a sudden. The Three Generals of Grado have suddenly expanded to six, the newer ones are disliked by the people as they are equally cruel as the new regime."

"Any word about dragons?"

"There's been talk of a high leveled Sage traveling looking for the 'Great Dragon'. From what I heard, he's from Caer Pelyn, a highly secluded village in the mountains."

Mark bit on his thumbnail thoughtfully. The other occupants remained silent, waiting for his conclusion.

"...We're going to assume this 'Great Dragon' is benevolent for now. Probably a protector of the village, like Arcadia. The terrain is right for it. We should find this sage and assist in the search for now. We need to know if there are anymore survivours of the Scouring over here. Do you have a name?"

"...No. He has silver hair and a worn pale green cloak, that's all I've been able to gather. Nothing concrete on the Dragon either, though the Sage's also said to be looking for an Indigo haired girl. It could be two different people but it also could mean that the girl is the dragon."

"Last sighting?"

Legault hovered over the map again, before jabbing his finger at a spot on the border of Grado and Renais.

"Here in Serafew. No other sightings yet."

Mark muttered to himself a little bit before leaning forward and tapping his finger further down on the map at the desert region of Jehenna.

"He will try here next. It's currently away from fighting and will spread his search pattern for maximum effectiveness."

The other four nodded, accepting their new mission.

"Now, for the matter of transport...I will assume Grado holds the mass Wyvern population? They have the mountains for it."

"Yes." Heath nodded. "The stables in this town are well equipped to house a large amount of Wyverns passing through."

"Hyperion cannot carry all of us. I want our pace to be a quick as possible. It does not make sense to buy a Wyvern, too many questions will be asked. Do you know the exact position of the battlefield?"

"No, but my guess is it's around...here." Heath pointed again.

"We will have to skirt past the edge then and see if we can find a riderless Wyvern. Two horses will have to do for now. Legault, you'll get to ride with Heath as usual. Nino, with Jaffar. I'll carry supplies. We move out in the morning. Legault, get us supplies and horses."

"Alright Milord Tactician!" The lilac haired thief sprang to his feet and did a dramatic bow. "Your wish is my command!"

"Legault..." Heath sighed in exasperation, shaking his head.

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I don't think I wrote flirty Legault too well. It seemed a little forced to me, but he wouldn't be Legault if he didn't sexually harass Heath at least once.

Trying to write Mark as both really flimsy yet really strong willed is a bit hard. It's a fine balance between making him floppy and pathetic or making him too strong. (Dragons are supposed to be flimsy when human anyway)

If any parallels are drawn to my writing of Minato Arisato, in my defense I say this, I am a particularly flimsy human and enjoy making my characters just as flimsy so that I can make them overcome problems even with the handicaps I add to them.