Residual Darkness Chapter 26, a spyro the dragon fanfic

A/N: Surprise! I wrote this pretty quickly considering how long it is. Except now I'm doomed because I've been neglecting my uni assignments. My bad. I was considering splitting this chapter in two, but my beta said it was fine and according to the poll most of you guys like long chapters, so have fun! (Keep them under 10 000 words, I said... pfft, yeah right). War scenarios are really, really hard to write. D: But I hope you find some enjoyment in this chapter, nonetheless. As always, big super amazing thanks to all of my readers and reviewers. :D

26.

Laughter.

Soft grass caressed her snowy paws, tickling her scales as gently as the touch of wind. There was a warm presence beside her—it had a familiar shape, but there was little else she could make out. Just blue. Lots of blue. Happiness swelled her heart to an impossible size and it beat in sync with another beside hers. She was laughing.

But the grass around her began to shrivel and fade, shrinking into dust and red dirt. The warm presence drifted away and she cried for it as the grass died around her paws. Her heart—her essence—ached with terrible sorrow, and that was all she knew. For a heart beat, a flash of green filled her vision—eyes, full of pain and longing.

Then a hollow shriek pierced the silence and the illusion shattered.

Zephira jolted awake with a start, heart beating violently in her chest. For several disorientating moments she thrashed upon her bed of cushions, sending one skittering across the floor, and her eyes tried desperately to pierce the dark. A loud noise was ringing in her ears, and she couldn't tell if it was real or in her head. For a heart stopping moment, she had no idea where—or when—she was.

"Zephira! Zephira!" cried a frightened voice, and the wind dragoness abruptly stopped panicking. Swallowing the lump of fear and confusion in her throat, Zephira staggered to her feet and scanned the dark room for the owner of the voice.

"I'm here, Myst," she called over the sound of the continuing howl that she had now deduced was coming from outside. Her voice trembled and cracked of its own accord, prompting her to clear her throat and try again. "I'm here!"

Small paws pattered over wood, stumbled briefly over a pillow, and then Zephira felt a small, warm body press against her chest. She unfurled her good wing and wrapped it around the shaking body, pulling it closer. Taking deep breaths, she craned her head towards where she knew the window to be, though it was hard to tell in the dark. Now that she was fully awake, it was all too clear what that persistent shriek was.

"What's going on?" Myst whispered into her chest, sounding every bit as shaken as Zephira felt. "What is that noise?"

"It's the war horn," Zephira murmured—half to herself, half to Myst—and felt an icy spike of dread drive its way into her heart the instant the words left her lips. It was the war horn.

No…

"War…war horn?" Myst squeaked, and the fear in her voice was all too plain to hear. Zephira hugged her tighter, curling a forepaw around her shaking body and drawing her close. Her violet eyes fixed on the dark shape of the door, which she could just make out through the shadows of night.

"It'll be okay," she whispered, barely a second before the door exploded inwards. Myst shrieked and Zephira barely contained her own yell—instead, it came out as a strangled gasp. But the silhouette in the doorway was a familiar one.

"Zephira, Myst!" Selador cried, stumbling into the room with a trembling Domino between her front paws. Zephira was on her feet in an instant, though keeping one paw curled firmly around Myst. "Oh thank goodness…"

"Miss Selador!" Zephira exclaimed, startled. "What's happening? The war horn is…!"

"I know, I know," the navy dragoness interrupted swiftly, pushing Domino gently into the room. Zephira could only just make out her eyes, and to see them filled with such alarm and fear made her innards churn with apprehension.

"I'm going to find the guardians," Selador announced swiftly, raising her voice over the continuing horn. "Zephira, I want you to stay here and take care of Myst and Domino. Do not leave this house under any circumstances, do you understand? Barricade the doors and windows with whatever you can find and above all, stay together! If there is an emergency and you are forced to leave, run straight to the atrium. You should be safe in there. Now I have to go."

She turned to leave, but Zephira skirted around Myst and Domino and ran to intercept her. "Miss Selador, wait! I can help! I can fight!"

"No!" The navy dragoness whirled around, eyes flashing fiercely. Zephira staggered back in surprise. "No, Zephira. This is not your battle. Stay here and protect Myst and Domino. I'll be back soon. I promise."

"But, Selador…!"

Ignoring Zephira's pleas, the navy dragoness whirled away and slammed the door shut with her tail. The wind dragoness staggered backwards, shocked, and heard the sound of Selador cantering out of the building. For several seconds she just sat there, stunned, until the howl of the war horn faded and left them in silence. She could hear the sound of the young dragons breathing behind her, and almost the sound of her own heart hammering against her chest.

"Zephira…?" Myst murmured. Shaking, Zephira stood up and turned her back on the door, enshrouding both Myst and Domino in her wing and paws.

"It will be okay," she whispered to them, feeling their warm breath against her clammy scales. "Everything will be okay."

But there was only one thought in her mind. He was here. The one who had scarred her, robbed her of flight, murdered her brother.

The one who had ruined her life.

He was here.

By the time the echo of the war horn had faded into silence, Hunter had dashed out of the room, returned with sword in hand and quiver slung on his shoulder, and had begun barking orders at the others. They stood in stunned silence, marvelling at how quickly Hunter could move when he needed to. The board game lay forgotten in the middle of the floor, wooden pieces scattered around it like dead flies. The glow from the lantern hanging from the ceiling now seemed eerie, rather than warm and comforting.

"Cougar, get your javelin, we don't have any time for standing around like stunned deer!" Hunter snapped, a steely glint in his aqua eyes. With a startled cough, Cougar nodded and dashed out of the room. Mari staggered forwards, as though intending to follow, but Hunter grabbed her shoulders in a fierce but steady grip and forced her to meet his eyes.

"Mari, I need you to stay here and keep Terra safe. If she truly has betrayed her tribe, then her life may be in great danger if they find out. You must not leave this building, unless you have absolutely no other choice. Stay put, block the doors, and above all take care of each other. I don't want either of you to get hurt. Do you understand?" His eyes bored into hers with such intensity that she had no choice but to nod mutely.

"Stay safe," Hunter told her, his grip on her shoulders tightened briefly. Mari thought she could see worry in his eyes, and she raised a trembling paw to place on his. He nodded, but it was such a slight movement that she hardly noticed. His next words were a prayer as much as they were a promise. "We'll be back soon."

Cougar chose that moment to return, and Hunter stepped aside to allow him to envelop his cousin in a swift hug. His own eyes drifted to Terra, and for a moment he held her gaze before extending his paw. She stepped forward and took it hesitantly, and couldn't hold back a shiver when he tightened his grip and pulled her closer. Hunter's eyes searched her startled, frightened face, and her paw trembled in his grip.

"Be careful," was all he said before he released her. Terra swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

The two girls watched numbly as Hunter and Cougar slipped out of the room. Neither had any idea what awaited them outside, but for all they knew they could be walking to their deaths. Suddenly, with a strangled sort of sound, Terra dashed forwards just as Hunter made to close the door behind him. The words left her lips almost before she could think them.

"You too!" she cried. "You be careful too!"

Hunter's eyes met hers again, confidence replacing uncertainty like the sun moving out from behind a cloud, and nodded wordlessly. Then he walked away, Cougar at his side. Terra watched their backs, dearly hoping this wouldn't be the last time she saw them. She felt Mari's warm, trembling presence beside her, and together they whispered a quiet prayer.

"Come back to us..."

Neither cheetah nor pantheress were aware how long they stood there together, staring down an empty hallway, hand in hand but utterly silent, as though worry had stripped away all words. They only moved when the sound of elemental explosions, muted outside the walls, split the silence with merciless frequency. Terra uttered a sharp gasp and dashed back into the room, tearing her paw from Mari's in the process. She tripped over the board game in the centre of the room, sending counters and medallions skittering in all directions, but managed to keep her balance as she staggered to the window.

Her shaking paws found the stone sill of the window, and she stared through foggy glass at the darkness outside, still yet to show the first signs of dawn. But even as she stared, flashes of multicoloured light that could only be elemental attacks punched through the blackness like exploding stars in the night. It would have been beautiful had Terra not known the situation to be so dire. Her breath caught in her throat.

"It's begun…" she whispered, gripping the window sill fiercely. She felt Mari move to her side and place a dainty paw upon her own. It seemed almost comforting—in a strange, twisted way—when Terra noticed the cheetah was trembling just as much as she.

She was not alone in her fear.

"We must believe…that they will come back to us," Mari said, her voice trembling as much as her paw. "Alive."

A particularly bright flash of reddish light cut the sky at that moment, and Terra saw a large, dark shape silhouetted against the fading glow of fire. It was not dragon-like in build, but it sported massive bat-like wings far bigger than its wiry body. Terra thought she could see something hunched on top of it, but the glow faded before she had a chance to take a better look. The sky did not remain in darkness for much longer, however, for soon it was lit by multiple flashes of white-gold light that jumped and spider-webbed through the air as though it was alive.

"We have to help…" Terra whispered, so quietly Mari almost didn't hear. A deafening boom punched through the silence as a great fiery explosion ripped through the sky. This time, Terra was sure she heard a high-pitched shriek as one of the dark shapes fell pitifully from the air and was lost in shadow. Her limbs shook.

"We have to help!" she exclaimed, louder, and Mari's paw constricted around hers.

"We can't! We'd only get in the way! Hunter told us to stay here!" the cheetah insisted, sounding honestly terrified. Any other time, Terra would have listened to her—the sheer terror in Mari's voice would have been enough to quell even the most rebellious of thoughts. But not this time.

"That's my tribe out there!" she cried in a strangled voice, turning desperate eyes on her friend. "I cannot stand here and do nothing!"

She made for the door, but Mari's paw tightened on her wrist and pulled her back. For the first time, Terra turned a furious glare on the one cheetah that had trusted her from the start. Mari stared defiantly back, and somehow her fear made her seem all the more fierce.

"Let me go!" Terra insisted, tugging at her trapped paw. "I have to help them!"

"Help who?" Mari asked accusingly, never loosening her grip. "If you go out there, one way or another you'll be fighting against your allies. You chose to come to us! If you go out there now, whose side are you on? Who are you fighting for? Them…or us?"

Terra faltered, ice coursing through her veins. For a moment she had no answer, and she was just lost in the accusing oceans of Mari's eyes. But then the words slipped from her lips so easily that she wondered if they had always been there. "No one. But maybe I can stop them."

She held Mari's gaze, begging her to understand, begging her to see her true intentions. But her expression was guarded and confused, neither distrusting nor understanding. Terra swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Maybe I can save a few lives," she whispered. That did it. Like metal chains slipping from her wrists, Mari's grip on Terra's arm loosened but did not fall away. Instead her paws enveloped those of the pantheress, and she stared earnestly into her eyes.

"Then let me help you."

Relief and gratitude washed over Terra's face like the warm glow of fire, and she embraced the cheetah without another word. In another heartbeat, she had released her and placed her paws on her shoulders, much like Hunter had done previously.

"It will be dangerous," Terra said needlessly.

"Hunter told me to protect you."

"We'll protect each other."

Another earth-shattering boom shattered the night outside and the whole building seemed to shake. The two felines steadied themselves, grabbing at each other in a frantic attempt to keep their feet. No doubt the earth dragons were at work. The tremors subsided in the blink of an eye, and Mari extracted herself from Terra to stumble over to her cushions. Hunter had insisted she arm herself before they left the cheetah village, and now she was gladder than ever that she had listened to his advice. She had kept the short sword—which was little more than a dagger—under her cushions ever since they had arrived at Warfang.

Now, going into battle, it settled into her paw in a strangely comforting way.

"For protection," she told Terra, untying her belt and slipping it through the loop on the scabbard before tying it back around her waist. It hung against her hip, unnervingly out of place against the bright, cheerful blue of her tunic.

"I doubt it will do much good if we get in trouble, but at least it's something," Terra admitted. She would have given anything to have some sort of protective weaponry on her hip at this time, but all she had to rely on was her claws. Still, she reminded herself, she was not here to kill—but to save.

"Stay together, just like Hunter told us," Mari said, eyes bright and resolute. "Let's go."

The pantheress only nodded mutely. As she dashed out of the room after Terra, Mari couldn't help but wonder what Hunter would say had he been able to hear their conversation. But the words that circled in her head were more unnerving than comforting.

'Lives are never saved in battle.'

Terrador had not slept well that night—nor any night since the threat of the panthers had been confirmed by the pantheress in their midst. An hour past midnight he had been woken by one of the guards, as he had requested, to take up his post with the dawn patrol on the western wall. In those dark hours he paced the sandstone battlements, his eyes always trained towards the west. Scouts had reported movement on the western plains only days before, and the west-wall guard had since been doubled.

Regardless of what happened, the dragons would be ready for when the panthers made their move.

Or so Terrador hoped.

Seriphos heard it first. As captain of the guard, he had also insisted on taking the dawn shift alongside his old mentor. They paced the wall together, mostly unspeaking, but finding some reassurance from the strength of each other's presence. Dawn was still a few hours away when Seriphos stopped and frowned into the darkness beyond the wall. Terrador halted beside him.

"What plagues you, Seriphos?"

"I think I can hear wing beats, Master Terrador," he replied without missing a beat. He sounded only slightly uncertain.

"I hear nothing," the earth guardian responded moments later, a frown marring his features, "but my senses have dulled in my old age, and I cannot doubt the hearing of a young dragon such as yourself. Can you tell me how many there are?"

Seriphos frowned and stared harder into the shadows of night outside of Warfang, as though he intended to pierce the darkness with the intensity of his gaze. At length he shrugged helplessly and responded lamely, "…Many."

'Perhaps this night will not be so dull after all…' Terrador mused. He opened his mouth to tell Seriphos to alert the other guards just in case of attack, but he never got that far. A flash of red pierced the darkness, a gushing roar rushed towards the wall, and something white-hot shot past Terrador's shoulder, so close he felt it lick at his scales—straight into the stunned captain of the guard.

Seriphos was forced backwards by the violent blow, his talons scraping white scratches in the sandstone wall. His limbs locked together and for a moment he stood rigid, mouth half open in a silent expression of shock and pain. A gaping, smoking wound marred the scales between neck and shoulder on his left side. Then, as though in slow motion, he crumpled and fell backwards over the lip of the battlements.

Terrador's paws were rooted to the spot and for several heartbeats it was as though he had turned to stone. Blood pulsed in his head, throbbing behind his eyes. He heard the muted thud of Seriphos hitting the cobblestones below, and it was that sickening sound that threw the earth guardian into action.

Fury pulsed through his veins and, with a roar that reached the heavens themselves, the earth guardian threw back his head and screamed.

"SOUND THE ALARM!"

The war horn answered his cry only seconds later, uttering an unearthly howl that startled every citizen of Warfang from their peaceful slumber. Guards all over the city were dragged from their dream realms into dawn chaos. Some donned armour, but others wasted no time in racing out into the streets to assist their brothers in arms.

As the Guard raced to answer his call to action, Terrador whirled towards the darkness and fired a bullet of stone blindly into the night—his response to the fireball that had felled the captain of the Guard. A shriek emanated from somewhere ahead, and he thought he saw the faint outline of something large and winged fall from the sky. Vengeance was sweet.

As though the earth guardian's attack had been a signal, the guards all along the wall lined up and fired a barrage of elemental attacks into the night. The darkness was lit for several blinding seconds by fire and electricity, and in that glow the dragons saw them—Dreadwings. They covered the sky, wings beating strong as they flew in formation towards the walls, telltale lumps hunched upon their backs. But then the glow faded, and they disappeared alarmingly into darkness.

"Again!" Terrador roared. "Fire!"

Once more the sky was lit, and then something else interrupted what had once been a peaceful, silent night. Another horn bellowed its tuneless song to the sky from the other side of the city. Terrador whirled around in time to see elemental flashes illuminate the night sky far across the city near the eastern wall. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"They've split up," he said in a hushed voice, and cursed himself for not calling the tactic sooner. They had caught Warfang in a pincer movement—in the middle of the night, no less. But it did not take long for Terrador to shake off the shock and spring back into action.

"Mason!" he roared, and the mole who had been marching the western wall with the dawn guard instantly snapped to attention. "I want moles on those catapults! Immediately!"

Mason saluted smartly and raced off to find his moles. The catapults had been set up days previously in preparation for when the panthers returned with their Dreadwings. They were far too small to be used by dragons, but were deadly accurate in the dexterous hands of moles. Satisfied, Terrador roared another order to the surrounding guard, which was growing by the minute as those who had been asleep raced to their assistance.

"Snipers to the lookout towers! Bring those Dreadwings down!"

Upon his order, a small force of specially trained dragons—who had been preparing for this very moment—took flight towards the highest points they could reach in the city. Terrador wasted no time in screaming his last order to the rest of the Guard.

"The rest of you, protect these walls! Do not let those panthers into the city!"

A collective bark of agreement responded to his call, and then Terrador did something he had never done before. He turned away from the approaching enemy and leapt down into the streets of Warfang, leaving the guard leaderless and to their own devices. The earth guardian struck the ground hard, but his massive, tree-trunk-like legs absorbed the shock almost entirely. Then, heart pounding furiously in his chest, he loped over to the broken form of Seriphos.

The captain's eyes were closed, and rivers of blood were flowing through the cracks in the cobblestones beneath him. Fear was not an emotion Terrador felt often, but it was what was coursing through his veins as he gazed upon the dragon he had once trained as his pupil—a dragon who had, in his pre-guardian days, been like a younger brother to him. Silent prayers circling in his mind, he laid his head across Seriphos's beaten body.

A heartbeat, strong and steady, met his ears. Terrador sighed with relief.

"Seriphos! Seriphos, wake up! Now is not the time to sleep your life away!"

Startled into wakefulness by the guardian's booming voice, the captain of the guard jerked and forced his eyes open. The world spun as he took a shaky, gasping breath, and his rolling eyes found Terrador's concerned face. Seriphos coughed and felt a lance of pain pierce through his shoulder.

"T-Terrador! What…?"

"You were struck by enemy fire," Terrador explained solemnly. "A Dreadwing attack, no doubt. Get on your feet, Seriphos. Can you stand?"

Ignoring the spikes of pain through his shoulder and the base of his wing, the captain raised his body from the ground and shakily took a stance in front of the guardian. A few unsteady heartbeats later, and then Seriphos stood tall, his legs solid and steady despite the blood trickling down his chest. The wound had carved a charred path from the space between the base of neck and left shoulder to the base of his left wing joint. It was still smoking.

"I can stand," Seriphos announced defiantly, though a sudden tremble in his left leg belied his pain. "I wouldn't miss this battle for anything."

Terrador nodded solemnly, "Good dragon. Though I doubt you'll be flying."

In response, Seriphos tried to stretch out his left wing, but waves of fire swept mercilessly through his muscles and he gritted his teeth to avoid crying out in pain. Eyes watering with agony, he kept the wing folded tightly against his side and nodded reluctantly.

"Not in this battle," he agreed grimly.

"Take the ground force," Terrador ordered, springing back into action with practised ease. "Stop the panthers from breaking through our gates or trying to scale the walls. I will lead the air force to meet the Dreadwings."

"Ancestors be with you, Terrador," Seriphos responded before he whirled away to climb back up onto the wall.

"And you," the earth guardian called back. Then he sprang into the air with a strong beat of his massive wings and roared. "Air force! To me!"

The guards had trained and trained for this moment, and like a well-oiled machine they followed Terrador's orders without question. The ground force, under Seriphos's lead, dove from the battlements to confront the wave of panthers that had just appeared out of the shadows, and the others followed the earth guardian as he leapt skyward to meet the Dreadwings in battle. But the guards were not the only ones to answer his call.

"Need a little help?" called a familiar female voice, and Terrador spun around in midair to see who had hailed him. A navy dragoness soared gracefully to his side, her greenish eyes twinkling confidently.

"Selador!" he called gruffly. "I cannot say it does not please me to see you, but what of your young charges?"

"I left Zephira in charge and told them to stay put in the house," Selador replied, hovering in front of him. "They'll be fine."

Terrador grunted. "As long as that young dragoness gets no rash ideas in her head."

"She won't. Not while she has Myst and Domino to protect. Shall we commence this battle then, old friend?"

"You read my mind."

Together, the two earth dragons turned to join the air force rushing to meet the Dreadwings in combat. But they didn't have to fly far. Terrador's detour to check on Seriphos had cost him and the guards who followed his order precious time. The Dreadwings had already reached the walls, and the dragons were hard-pressed to hold them back. But already panthers were jumping from the backs of Dreadwings, or being dropped from their claws onto the battlements. Down below, a force of Death Hounds had broken through the ranks of guards and was ramming the western gate with everything they had.

Terrador was well practised in battle, and it did not take long before he spotted his target. A familiar panther was soaring on the back of a large Dreadwing at the very head of the pack, a staff in his paw and deep blue eyes shining with merciless intent. The earth guardian recognised him instantly. This was the panther that had tried, unsuccessfully, to negotiate with him previously—the one who had ordered him to step aside and let them overrun Avalar. This was the panther who had ordered the attack when Terrador had refused his terms, the one responsible for the dragons that had died that day. He still remembered his name.

Skelos, leader of the panther tribe.

With a terrifying roar, Terrador broke away from Selador's side and barrelled towards the Dreadwing carrying the panther leader. Skelos saw him coming, and a wild grin spread across his face. Clambering to his feet on the Dreadwing's back, he swung his staff in a wide arch, feeling whips of flame lick at the air around his body. Terrador's eyes widened in shock at the display of elemental power—power that should have been impossible for any but a dragon—and then Skelos yelled a single word.

"Dive!"

The Dreadwing dove. Skelos jumped. With a cry like a wounded animal, he swung his staff with as much force as he could muster towards the charging earth guardian. Flames flickered to life around the spirit gem on the head of the staff, Terrador's claws missed him by inches, and Skelos braced himself for impact. The staff struck the earth guardian's chest with devastating force, and the panther swore he heard something snap. Terrador's agonised howl cut the air, and then Skelos was falling.

He uttered an alarmed yelp as the ground rushed up to meet him, and cursed himself for not foreseeing this outcome sooner. But just as Skelos was preparing himself to be crushed against the cobblestone streets, his Dreadwing swooped above him and grabbed him in its wiry claws.

"Drehgarr!" Skelos called, relief all too evident in his voice. "Good catch!"

"No die today, Mah-ster Skee-los," the broken dialect of the Dreadwing reached him through the rush of wind in his ears. Skelos grinned.

But he didn't have long to celebrate his meagre victory. A sudden shriek of pain left Drehgarr's lips and he careened out of control, his claws losing their grip on Skelos's upper arms. The panther cried out in alarm and twisted his head around in time to see the earth guardian fire another stone bullet. Terrador was not out yet.

As Drehgarr swerved erratically to avoid the second bullet, his claws slipped and Skelos fell from his grip. The panther curled himself into a ball as he hit the cobblestones, wincing as he rolled and tumbled to a stop. Holding his aching shoulder, he pushed himself back to his feet and looked up in alarm, expecting dragon claws to come swooping down on him at any moment. But Drehgarr had swerved around and was charging back at the earth guardian, screeching a high-pitched war cry as he cannoned into the dragon's chest. Howling like wild animals, dragon and Dreadwing rolled over each other in the dark sky, clawing and biting without mercy.

Safe for the moment, Skelos took that time to take in his surroundings. He stood in the centre of one of Warfang's streets, not far from the western wall. Across the far side of the city, he could just hear the faint shrieks of the combined Dreadwing and panther force attacking the southern wall, led by his twin brother. His own force had pushed the dragons back considerably, and the Dreadwings had already carried many a panther into the city.

Skelos smiled grimly as a dragon shouted in alarm just before the western gate splintered under the unbridled charging power of several Death Hounds. Wooden shrapnel flew in every direction as hounds and panthers poured into the formerly impregnable city. Dragons dropped from the skies to meet them in battle, and the earth guardian himself broke away from Drehgarr to assist the guards. Warfang was being overrun.

"By dawn," Skelos said to himself, turning his eyes to the sky, which had begun to lighten already, "the Dragon City will be ours."

Then the sound of steel being drawn from its sheath met his ears, and Skelos spun around.

Nalu awoke in a panic to the sound of the war horn and her father's stern voice telling her to "Stay inside!"

She didn't manage to gather her bearings before he had rushed out of the room to join his fellow guards in battle. By the time she had shaken the remnants of sleep and shock from her mind, Nalu found herself alone in the room, shaking like a leaf. Swallowing her fear and wincing against the unrelenting howl of the war horn, the young green dragoness jumped to her feet and staggered over to the window. There was only darkness outside, punctuated by the occasional blast of elemental magic.

There was only one thought in Nalu's head—find Zephira. She wasn't sure where the thought came from, or how it managed to override everything other thought, but it was the one thing she was certain of. Even her father's order had faded to the back of her mind.

The last battle had cost the life of her crush. She would be damned if this one cost the life of his sister.

Not stopping to think about her plan, if she even had one, Nalu turned and hurried back across the room, wrenching the door open. The need to prevent what had happened last time overrode every last shred of common sense as she dashed down the corridor after slamming the door shut behind her. Out into the dark streets she fled, hardly noticing the faint form of her father as he winged his way towards the eastern wall. The city looked different in the dark, but Nalu had visited Selador's residence many times since Zephira had moved in with her, and she knew the way almost by heart.

Through the cobblestone streets she ran, paws slapping on cold stone and her breath coming in short gasps. The shrieks and explosions of elemental attacks were clear and loud in the stillness of the night, and her heart beat a frantic rhythm of fear against her ribcage. Find Zephira. All she had to do was find Zephira. And somehow, just being beside her would mean that she was safe. She hadn't been with Ciro when he had died. As long as she was with Zephira, the wind dragoness would be safe.

A particularly loud roar pierced the night and Nalu shrieked, flattening herself to the ground with her paws over her head. When it was apparent she wasn't about to be set upon by enemies, she got shakily back to her feet and continued on her way. She wished Selador's house wasn't so far away. But she would get there. She had to get to Zephira.

The wind dragoness in question was still curled around Myst and Domino in her room, whispering soothing words to them in a vain effort to block out the sound of battle outside. She wasn't sure how much time had passed since Selador had left them, but the explosions and roars were growing louder and more frequent with every passing moment. Zephira kept her eyes closed, but the face of a grinning, murderous panther kept swimming before her mind's eye. She could hear her brother yelling, almost as though she was back at that day, curled around a sobbing hatchling, beset on all sides.

'Run, Zephira! I'll hold them off!'

'Run!'

'Zephira!'

"Zephira!"

The white dragoness jumped with shock when a different voice called out her name—a female voice. Faintly, she could hear the sound of someone—or was it something?—knocking furiously at the front door, desperate to get in. Zephira felt her heart leap into her throat and curled herself tighter around the hatchlings.

"What's happening? Who is that?" Myst asked in a trembling voice. But Zephira shook her head and just whispered soothingly.

"It's okay. It's okay."

The knocking sounded again, louder this time, as though the figure on the other side of the door was becoming increasingly panicked. Was it a panther? Zephira had no idea what to do. She didn't want to risk leaving Myst and Domino unguarded while she went to check, especially if there was a chance it could be an enemy. All she could do was stay silent and hope it gave up—hope it didn't find a way in.

"Zephira! Please! Let me in!"

Quite suddenly a rush of familiarity washed over Zephira and she realised with a jolt of guilt and horror she knew the owner of the voice. Springing to her feet, the wind dragoness extracted herself from the two hatchlings, wrenched open her door, and raced out to the front door. When she opened it a crack, she found herself staring into the frightened face of Nalu. Zephira breathed an inward sigh of relief and beckoned the earth dragoness through the threshold as quickly as she could.

"What are you doing outside at this time?" she hissed, snapping the door shut and flicking the metal bolt back into place with a claw. Nalu shuffled her paws sheepishly.

"I…I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine," Zephira said shortly, hurrying Nalu through the main room of the house and into her room, where a nervous Myst and Domino were huddled together. The latter jumped to his feet when the two older dragonesses stepped through the door.

"Nalu! Oh man, I thought it was something evil that was going to eat Zeph!" laughing, the black and white dragon launched himself at Nalu and hugged her paws, relieved. The sightless Myst swung her head towards the noise, trying to pinpoint its location.

"What happened?" she called nervously.

"Everything is fine, Myst. It was just Nalu," Zephira reassured her. Her violet eyes slid over to the green dragoness, a new, guilty thought surfacing in the forefront of her mind. She knew what she wanted—nay, needed—to do. Myst and Domino would be safe with Nalu.

"I'm going to go check the other rooms and make sure the windows are locked," the wind dragoness announced seconds later. "Nalu, stay with Myst and Domino. I'll be back in a moment."

"Be careful," the green dragoness called out shakily, but Zephira only acknowledged it with a flick of her tail as she stepped out of the room. The door slammed shut behind her.

For several minutes Nalu just sat and stared at the closed door, waiting with baited breath for Zephira to reappear and rejoin them. Then they would all be safe together. Myst and Domino pressed close to either side of her and she enveloped them with her wings, comforting herself as much as them. Minutes crawled by in silence, and Zephira did not reappear. A rogue thought crept into Nalu's head and she tried in vain to squash it. Zephira wouldn't do that.

…Would she?

Feeling as though her heart as dropped into her stomach and icy water was flowing through her veins, Nalu stood up. Myst shifted and raised her sightless eyes towards where she assumed the green dragoness's face to be.

"Where's Zephira?"

"I'm going to go look," Nalu told her, keeping her voice as steady as possible. "Stay here."

Steeling her nerves, Nalu slipped out of the room and looked around for any sign of the white dragoness. She found none. Her legs shook with each step and she checked one room and then the next, still with no sign of Zephira. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Nalu checked the locks on the windows in both rooms. The first was locked tight. The second was not. On the floor was a ragged piece of parchment that appeared to have been torn out of the book lying open beside it, and a pot of ink that had been knocked over onto its side.

Ink bled across the floor like obsidian blood, soaking the pages of the book and the edges of the torn piece of parchment. A single word was scrawled upon that piece, and Nalu's blood froze when her eyes found it. She sat down heavily and stifled a sob.

Sorry.

"We'll split up," was the first thing Hunter said when he and Cougar jogged out of the building they'd been staying in. "It sounds like there's action on both sides of the city. I'll take the west sector. You take the east. See if you can find any of the guardians and find out what's going on. See you soon."

"Be careful, Hunter," Cougar called over his shoulder as he turned down a side street, javelin propped up on his shoulder. A thought struck him and he added quickly, "Think Prowlus will turn up?"

"I doubt it," Hunter replied grimly, "not this time. But it would be best if he stays away."

Without another word, he split away down a dark alley towards the western wall, bow in hand. The sound of battle grew ever louder as he drew closer, and he pulled an arrow from his quiver just to be ready—in case something came racing around the corner. But for several minutes the streets seemed empty, and only shadows greeted him around every corner.

That was, until the western wall came into view, and a Dreadwing almost crash-landed in front of him. Startled, Hunter leapt backwards and loosed an arrow upon reflex. It thrummed a deadly tune as it skimmed through the air and buried itself in the Dreadwing's leg. With a shriek, the bat-like beast turned and winged away, but not before Hunter noticed something he'd missed in the darkness. A panther had been clutched in the Dreadwing's claws, but no longer. Hunter's arrow had caused its grip to loosen, and the panther rolled to a stop on the cobblestones nearby.

For a moment Hunter wondered if the impact had killed him, but then he pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his shoulder ruefully and staring after his Dreadwing. Crouching in the shadows of the nearby building, Hunter took a moment to examine this panther. He was different from the others he'd seen. Instead of the tattered, sandy tunics of the others, this panther wore a tunic of rich brown, and a belt made from the skin of some unfortunate, furry animal was fastened around his waist. He held a tall staff in one paw, upon the head of which rested something that looked suspiciously like a spirit gem. A wooden pendant hung against his chest—a medallion, it seemed, only broken in half. Hunter wondered where the other half was.

Hunter was no fool. He was certain this panther who had just fallen from the sky was the leader of the panther tribe. He carried himself with a self-confident air—one that Hunter had seen many times in his own chief.

It would have been all too easy to draw another arrow and end this panther's life then and there. No battle, no mess, no struggle. But that would have been the dishonourable thing to do, and Hunter did not agree with dishonour. Panther or not, this creature deserved a chance to fight for his life—a chance that, no doubt, he would not have given to his own enemies. Nevertheless, Hunter would not sink to his level.

Instead, his bow joined the arrows in his quiver and he drew his sword from its sheath. The sound must have alerted the panther, for he spun around almost instantly and took up a defensive stance. Then his eyes—ocean blue, strangely familiar—skimmed over his opponent and he relaxed. Perhaps he thought one cheetah was nothing to worry about. Hunter was determined to prove him wrong.

"Didn't actually expect to see any cheetahs here tonight," said the panther airily in an almost mocking conversational tone. "A bit too eager to get your share of the action, eh? Don't worry; when we've dealt with the dragons, your little village will get its turn."

"I'm afraid you won't make it to Avalar," Hunter replied, striding forwards slowly. "I intend to kill you tonight."

"Do you?" A mocking smirk spread across the face of the panther. "In that case, do humble me with the name of my to-be murderer."

"Hunter," the cheetah replied shortly, eyes glinting a steely challenge, and then added on a whim, "captain of the cheetah guard. And you?"

The panther tossed his staff from one hand to the other, and slowly began to circle his opponent. "Captain Hunter… Unless your chief has a son, you'd be next in line for the position, wouldn't you? You'll make a fitting opponent."

"Your name, panther," Hunter replied coldly, ignoring the comment. The panther grinned.

"Skelos, leader of the panther tribe. Surprised?"

"Hardly. I had surmised as much. Your attire suggests something about you is different from the average panther. Tell me, what defenceless creature was so unfortunate to become your belt?"

Skelos laughed quietly—a genuine laugh, not mocking in the slightest. It surprised Hunter, but he did not let down his guard. Instead he narrowed his eyes and sized the panther up, trying to figure out what was the best way to make the first move. Skelos held his gaze, eyes twinkling confidently. "A desert jackal. We hunt them as game in the Badlands. There's not really much else to hunt. I dare say that isn't the case in your lovely Valley. Must be nice to live in the lap of luxury, day in, day out…"

"You make it sound as though prey is delivered to us on silver platters. Avalar is rich with resources, true, but life there is not easy by any means."

"Don't mock me. You don't know the meaning of hardship, captain. Try living a day in the desert and perhaps you will change your tune."

"It was the fault of your own ancestors that you ended up there, Skelos."

"It was your ancestors who unfairly drove them from Avalar! That valley is rightfully ours and you know it!"

Without warning, Hunter stopped circling and abruptly rushed his opponent. Skelos caught his sword with the neck of his staff and for a moment they were locked together, face to face and eyes blazing. Then Skelos cocked his head to the side and grinned.

"Were we starting? I had no idea."

With a strong thrust, he wrenched his staff away from Hunter's sword and danced backwards, barely avoiding the cheetah's second strike. But within seconds he had closed the gap again, and sword and staff met with vicious force before breaking apart once more. Step by step, paws moving too fast for any who would watch to keep track of, panther and cheetah circled and feinted, parted and clashed, a perfect dance of symmetry.

The dark streets whirled around them as they ducked and weaved, struck and dodged, and the sounds of battle seemed strangely far away. Skelos's eyes were blazing with the excitement of battle, but Hunter's were like storm clouds roiling with electricity. Fire and lightning met with unbridled ferocity, sparks flying in the night as, once more, they leapt away from each other, panting.

"You are a skilled fighter, Hunter," Skelos praised, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Sweat slicked the fur to his shoulders, but his body still trembled with excitement and energy.

"And you," Hunter inclined his head almost respectfully, breathing just as heavily. The hilt of his sword felt slick in his grip. "But I think you understand why I can't let you live. I have a duty to my tribe and to my friends. I will protect them at all costs."

"Admirable sentiments. It's just a shame you won't live long enough to make good on them."

"We'll see."

Ducking under the blow that was aimed for his head, Hunter aimed for the exposed midriff of his opponent, drawing his sword back for the blow. But Skelos recovered too quickly, parrying the blow with this staff and pushing the cheetah back. The jagged spikes that encircled the head of the staff just below the orange gem caught Hunter on the upper arm, and he staggered back as they ripped through flesh and fur. Wincing, he stepped back and held his free hand to the wound, feeling wet blood against his pad.

"There is a reason you are outmatched, Captain Hunter," Skelos said, levelling the head of the staff with the cheetah's chest. His eyes were glowing with what he knew was to come, but Hunter could not read minds.

"And what is that?"

The panther's wild grin grew and, to Hunter's amazement, the crystal on the end of his staff began to glow. "Fire."

Hunter threw himself to the ground just in time to avoid the fireball that burst from the end of Skelos's staff and cut a blazing path through the air above him. It passed so close he felt it char the tips of his fur. For the first time, a spike of fear drove its way into his gut. How could it be possible for a panther to wield the elements? The only other creatures that had ever used the power normally reserved solely for the dragons had been…

"Where did you get that staff?" Hunter asked coldly, slowly picking himself up off the ground. Skelos just grinned and Hunter felt his blood boil. "Where did you get that staff?! Only the apes ever had weaponry like that!"

"Then you already have your answer, don't you?" Skelos smiled mockingly.

Angrily, Hunter charged across the small gap between him and his opponent, feinting to the left to avoid Skelos's next attack. The panther took the bait, firing another ball of flame that Hunter all too easily avoided. His momentum carried him straight into Skelos, sending him crashing into the door of the building behind him. The wood splintered under the force of the collision, and both cats rolled over each other into the building, struggling to regain their bearings.

Hunter leapt up first and quickly retrieved his sword from where he had dropped it. But now Skelos was between him and the door, and he was trapped in this building, whatever it was. A quick glance confirmed it as a large warehouse, empty but for several piles of wooden crates that lined the walls, the contents of which Hunter was unaware. Backing up slowly, he took up a defensive position as Skelos clambered back to his feet. There were splinters of wood in his dark fur and he looked simply livid as he pointed his staff at Hunter.

"Bad move," the panther hissed, pawing a ribbon of blood from his cheek where a large splinter had sliced him. Hunter was all too conscious of the blood running in rivulets down his own arm.

"You can't use your elemental magic in here," he told Skelos grimly. But the panther only narrowed his eyes.

"And why not?"

Hunter opened his mouth to respond, but he never got that far. Skelos leapt forward with all the grace of the cat he was and sliced through the empty air with a powerful swing of his staff. A wave of flame erupted from the gem, curling outwards in tongues and ribbons, licking hungrily at the wooden crates. Hunter covered his face with his paws as the fire enveloped him, eating at his fur with burning fangs. Then Skelos came charging through the smoke, and Hunter barely managed to block as he was pushed back several feet.

Blinking smoke and tears from his eyes, the cheetah pushed away from his opponent and staggered back, coughing. The fires took hold of the old wood of the crates and began to grow, slowly at first, but with ever increasing speed, inching towards the wooden banisters that held the iron roof up.

"Are you insane?" Hunter yelled, pawing ash from his muzzle. "You'll kill us both!"

To his satisfaction, Skelos no longer looked entirely confident. Indeed, he was staring at the burning crates with an expression remarkably close to horror. But then he scowled and it vanished from his face. He turned back to Hunter, eyes glowing with firelight.

"True, the flames will consume this building in time. But I won't need that long to bring you down."

"You can't even control that weapon! Set it aside before you kill yourself!"

"Why don't you stop worrying about me and start worrying for your own life?!" Skelos shrieked, sudden anger writhing across his features.

Hunter dove for the nearest stack of crates that were not being consumed by fire as countless spears of flame exploded from Skelos's staff and raced towards him. They shot straight through the crates and out the other side, and Hunter was thrown backwards across the stone floor as one pierced his shoulder. He couldn't hold back the cry of agony that ripped from his lips as he rolled to a stop, smoking. His sword clattered to the ground several meters away.

Skelos panted heavily, his hand trembling around his staff. For a moment he simply surveyed his handiwork, spotting the shaking form of Hunter lying on the ground, obscured by smoke. The fires consumed the crates ever faster and now the banisters were flaming too, turning black under the intense heat. Slowly, Skelos began to pace towards his prone adversary.

Groaning, Hunter pushed his aching body up until he was kneeling, one hand on the ground and the other cradled in his lap. Blood matted his fur and there was an ugly burn mark in his left shoulder, but he was not out yet. Reaching behind his back, the captain of the cheetahs at last drew his bow from his quiver and shakily got to his feet. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he drew an arrow and knocked it to his bow, aiming through the smoke.

Skelos laughed.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Long range weapons in a close-quarters fight? You must be desperate."

Hunter inclined his head to the side, unsmiling, his eyes cold and hard. "I never miss."

Skelos grinned, "Prove it."

He ran. Hunter fired.

The arrow slammed into Skelos's shoulder with enough force to stop him in his tracks, too quick for him to dive to the side and avoid it, as he had been intending. The panther gasped and staggered backward, eyes wide with pain and disbelief. Slowly he raised a paw to the arrow still quivering in his flesh, and then turned a gaze of uttered hatred on the cheetah that had fired it.

"You'll regret that."

Hunter's eyes flashed. "Prove it."

Another fireball roared through the air towards him, and Hunter threw himself into a roll to avoid it. He jumped up without stopping and took a flying leap onto a crate that had only just started to smoulder. Drawing another arrow, he leapt again onto a higher crate just in time to avoid the spear of flame that shot through the space he'd been standing in moments ago. He knocked the arrow to his bow, but was forced to leap into midair when another wave of flame was sent his way. Falling through ash, smoke and fire, Hunter squinted along the line of his arrow, drew back and fired.

The arrow leapt from the string but a second before Hunter hit the ground in a forward roll that spared his legs the shock of landing. It thrummed through the ash-choked air and struck its target in Skelos's upper arm, just below its twin. The panther choked and coughed as a drill of agony swept through his muscles and almost forced him to his knees.

"H-how did you…?"

Then the ceiling collapsed. Unable to hold the weight of the roof any longer, one of the fire-eaten banisters broke and fell with an almighty crash. Embers and burning splinters exploded in all directions. Both panther and cheetah threw themselves to the floor, covering their heads with their paws as fire licked at their fur. Hunter struggled upright, blinded by smoke, and fumbled for another arrow. Skelos was already scrambling for the door.

But just as it seemed he was about to make it, Hunter's third arrow pierced through the smoke and punched clean through Skelos's tunic beneath his right arm. It just barely missed his flesh and pinned him to what remained of the wooden frame of the door. Startled, the panther tugged fruitlessly at his tunic, but the material refused to give. Angrily, he turned his attention to the arrow itself, but it was stuck fast in the wood. Trying to quell his panic, Skelos stepped backwards and forcefully yanked his tunic over the end of the arrow, tearing off most of the flights in the process. But he spun around too late.

Hunter had an arrow levelled straight for his heart, ready to fire, barely a meter away. Skelos's breath hitched in his throat and his limbs froze at the sight. The cheetah captain stared impassively.

"I never miss."

But he never got to fire the arrow. Something crashed through the roof of the burning building, a flash of yellow rent the ash-choked air, and Hunter screamed in agony. Electricity coursed through his veins, relentlessly tearing him apart from the inside out—or so it felt. The bow and arrow clattered from his paws and he was forced to his knees, limbs twitching spasmodically. Skelos stared in amazement.

Then the pain stopped and, coughing, Hunter raised his head to find himself staring not at one, but at two panthers—identical down to the slightest hair, but for the ragged ear on the new arrival and the thin rapiers in his hands. Electricity sparked along their length and the new panther grinned wickedly.

"You have a lot to learn about dealing with twins."

Too late Hunter remembered Terra's words.

Two. Twins.

Oh how he wished he hadn't let that fact slip his mind.

"You have impeccable timing, brother," Skelos muttered under his breath, though he didn't sound entirely pleased. Skulk turned a glare on him.

"And you are a moron. Did you really think using fire in a wooden building was a good idea?"

"It seemed like one at the time." Skelos grimaced and his paw inched towards the arrows still protruding from his flesh. Trying to stop his paw from shaking, he gripped the shaft of one and snapped it roughly in half. He had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Skulk narrowed his eyes and turned back to the panting Hunter, who was still struggling back to his feet.

"You will pay for injuring my brother, cheetah."

"And you will pay for murdering mine," hissed a sudden, venomous voice from outside. Both panthers spun around in alarm, startled by the new arrival. But what startled them more was who—or rather what—it was.

It was a white dragoness, tiny and frail, hardly up to the waists of the felines. But there were scars carved across her scales in intricate patterns and her eyes burned with unspeakable, undeniable hatred. For a moment, Skulk thought she looked strangely familiar. Then Hunter's strangled voice came from behind.

"Z-Zephira?"

But she wasn't looking at him. She was staring at Skulk, murder in her eyes. There was no fury in the world that could match hers in that moment.

"…monster."

The streets were empty when Mari and Terra raced out into them. They stopped for a moment at a dark crossroads, the silence punctured by explosions of elemental magic and the roars of dragons that seemed closer than they were. It was not what they had been expecting. Instead of crashing straight into the fray, eyes blazing and with words on their lips that, in their wild fantasies, stopped the field of battle in its tracks, they found themselves alone in darkness. The battle seemed far away, and they felt small and insignificant in the silence.

"Which way?" Mari asked uncertainly, her voice ringing strangely through the empty streets. Cold wind teased their fur, and both felines shuddered in response.

"I…don't know…" Terra sounded almost defeated, as though the emptiness of the streets had punctured a bleeding hole straight through her confidence. Visions of her own heroic entrance that stopped panthers and dragons alike in their tracks were shattering like glass before her eyes. She was tiny, far away, and alone.

"Terra? We can't stay here. If we want to help, we need to find them."

Mari's words jolted her out of the stupor she'd been falling into, and Terra offered her a strained smile in return. "I know."

Closing her eyes, the pantheress listened hard for the sound of battle. Faint as it was, she could hear it—though it sounded like it was coming from more direction than one. Shaking off whatever confusion and worry had taken hold of her heart, Terra took Mari's paw and pulled her down the street to the left.

"This way," she called softly over her shoulder, leading the cheetah towards the eastern sector with more confidence than she felt. Paw in paw they ran over the cobblestones, turning corners where necessary, but more or less following a path straight to the eastern wall. The sky was slowly lightening above them, though dawn was still hours away. Buildings were dark shapes reaching skyward around them, and the flashes of elemental energy grew closer with every step.

The battle was just ahead. They could hear it now—not least the sound of two dragons arguing loudly in a nearby street. The wall loomed over them ominously, only streets away from their current position.

"Even in battle! Even in battle you refuse—refuse, Volteer—to still that ever-moving, infernal jaw of yours! Do you fear that, should you be brought down in battle, you may not have met your quota of words for the day? Ancestors know you've already spoken enough for ten lifetimes! For once, I must insist that you stay your tongue!"

"If you would cease to remain so appallingly, atrociously obnoxious, Cyril, you may yet perceive the panther approaching your imprudent blue posterior before it does us all a favour and eradicates you from the world!" The voice stilled for but a moment, and Terra heard the sound of someone—a panther?—crying out in agony. But then the voice resumed as quickly as before. "Conceivably, were you to focus what diminutive acumen remains in your psyche on your own personal predicament, you may discover you have less to agonize over—and a superior probability of survival!"

"Those sound like the guardians!" Mari hissed in her ear, and Terra made up her mind in an instant.

"Let's go," she said, pulling Mari into the next street towards the sound of the voices. They were punctuated by the yells and roars of panthers and dragons, but soon enough the owners of the voices came into view. Terra sped up almost instantly.

"There they are!" she cried. "If we can convince them to help, we may be able to stop this battle!"

She wasn't even sure how, but all Terra knew in that moment was she needed someone—anyone—on her side, or she wouldn't be able to do anything. She needed to get attention and who better than the guardians to help? No thoughts were spared for how she planned on stopping the battle, but fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—she didn't need them. Because they never reached the guardians.

Howling demonically, spittle flying from their monstrous jaws, a pack of three Death Hounds bounded through the ranks of panthers that had already made it into the city. Their beady little eyes scanned for prey and found it—two apparently defenceless felines at the end of the street, unprotected by numbers or the massive forms of dragons. Drooling eagerly, the hounds turned towards them and charged.

Mari knew she should have run. Instead her limbs locked in place and her eyes widened in unspeakable horror. It was all she could do to watch as the hideous beasts bore down upon her, murder in their tiny eyes and saliva dripping from their dagger-like fangs. Then a hand grabbed her upper arm in a vice-like grip, and a terrified voice shrieked in her ear.

"RUN!"

Terra tugged her arm hard, almost yanking the cheetah to the ground, but Mari recovered just in time to wrench her arm away and run. In terror she fled for the nearest alley she could find, desperate to find a tiny corner, an abandoned room, anything to hide in. She heard Terra calling for her but her mind was buzzing with a fog of fear and she couldn't make sense of any of it. All she could do was run.

The hounds split up when their prey fled, two pursuing the startled panther and the last barrelling after the terrified, fleeing cheetah. Unable to keep track of each other in their panic, the two felines split up down different alleyways in their frantic attempts to outrun the murderous hounds.

Terra could feel her heart trying to leap out of her throat and her paws were burning on the cobblestones, but she couldn't stop under pain of slow, violent death. Leaping over wooden crates stashed away in the alley she had fled down, she kicked out at them as she passed, hoping to block the way of her pursuers. She struck lucky when one of the heavy crates teetered and fell straight into the path of one of the hounds, crushing one of its paws and eliciting a yelp from the pained canine. But the other dodged around the crate and its injured pack-mate and continued the chase.

Turning a sharp corner, Terra skidded into another narrow street and tried desperately to pick up her pace. She could almost feel the Death Hound nipping at her heels. Preoccupied by the canine, the pantheress did not notice that she was heading straight towards the centre of the city. Nor did she know that most of the panthers were being herded in the exact same direction.

Across the western side of the city, Terrador had ordered the ground force to pull back and allow the panthers into the city. At first most of the guard didn't understand why, until the earth guardian bellowed his next order at them.

"Block off the streets! Herd them into the centre of the city! I want them surrounded!"

Along the walls, fiery cannon balls were being shot with deadly accuracy by the moles at the catapults, and Dreadwings were dropping like flies. Leaving the flying beasts to the moles and the snipers in the lookout towers, more than half of the air force descended to the streets to trap the panthers and herd them gradually towards the centre of the city. Whenever the black cats tried to break off down a side-street, an impenetrable wall of dragon bodies and elemental magic would block their way. Slowly but surely, they began to edge towards the centre.

Tripping over a loose crate at the end of an alleyway, Terra stumbled ungainly around another corner and crashed right into a small group of panthers that had just found their way blocked by two burly fire dragons. The panther she had crashed into turned in surprise and, as the hound skidded around the corner after her, Terra made a split second decision. Taking advantage of the panther's surprise, she elbowed him hard in the stomach and slammed him up against the nearby wall, cracking his head against the stone.

"I'll be taking this," she muttered, snatching the javelin from his loose grasp. Then, spinning around, she dodged around the charging hound and fled in the opposite direction. The alarmed yells of the panthers behind her as the enraged hound turned on them assured Terra that she was not being pursued. Grimly, she whispered a silent apology to her brethren and hoped they could handle the hound better than she—or at least that their deaths would be quick and painless.

Around the next corner, Terra stopped and took a breather against the wall, trying to slow the frantic beating of her heart. Only when she had calmed herself did she take note of her position. She was alone. Mari was nowhere to be seen. Her grip on her newly-stolen javelin tightened so violently her knuckles turned white beneath her dark fur.

"This…isn't good…"

Terra knew she couldn't stay here. She was out in this battle for a reason and, most of all, she had to find Mari. It was her fault the cheetah was out here in the first place. It would be her fault if anything happened to her. The thought caused icy rivers to course through her veins. Glancing both ways down the street, she made up her mind and took a left turn towards where the majority of noise was coming from. Rounding a corner at the end of the street, she found herself face to face with a burly earth dragon.

His dark eyes trained on her the moment she appeared, and a wicked snarl spread across his face. With a guttural roar, the dragon spat a bullet of stone that missed Terra by inches when she threw herself to the ground. Gasping in shock, she rolled back onto one knee and raised her terror-stricken face to that of the dragon.

"Wait!" she cried, her voice trembling at the sight of his fury. "Wait, I'm on your side!"

"A likely story!" the dragon spat, slamming his massive paws down on either side of her body. Lowering his head, he barred dagger-sharp fangs in her face and uttered a growl deep in his chest. "Panther."

"W-wait, I'm…I'm…" the words failed her in her fear. She could only stare in horror at the jaws of death, trapped and afraid. Killed by the very creatures she was trying to help—this couldn't be the way it ended.

"Dragon!" a voice yelled suddenly from behind, and Terra yelped when the dragon standing over her uttered a roar of pain and reared back. She scrambled out from under him as quickly as she could, shooting a furtive glance over her shoulder. The dragon landed back on all fours, pawing desperately at its face, the bolt of a crossbow imbedded in its cheek.

Someone grabbed Terra's upper arm and hauled her upright, and another bolt sliced through the air beside her. It struck the dragon in the shoulder and his shriek of agony hurt both her ears and her heart. Twisting around, Terra saw in amazement that it was a trio of panthers that had come to her rescue. The one gripping her arm tugged her along with more force than was needed.

"Let's get out of here!" he yelled in her ear, just as the ground trembled and jagged stalagmites thrust from the earth with sounds like cannon blasts. Terra yelped and fled, not daring to look back over her shoulder at the earth dragon again. The crossbow-wielding panther fired another bolt before he also turned and ran. The agonised howl of the dragon followed them down the street, and guilt exploded in Terra's heart.

"Sorry…" she whispered under her breath, though she knew the dragon would never hear it.

"Watch yourself," yelled the panther running on her left side. She had never seen him before—just one of the many panthers she had never spoken with. "You almost lost it back there! Can't let your guard down around these brutes!"

Terra nodded dumbly, not trusting herself to reply in case she let something slip—like an indignant exclamation that dragons were not brutes. She followed the trio of panthers through the twists and turns of the streets, always halting and doubling back whenever dragons appeared in their path. It almost felt like they were being herded together, like sharks around a school of fish. The other panthers seemed to notice it too.

"They're doing something funny," one of them muttered beside her, twirling his dagger nervously. "They're not attacking us, just blocking our way. Forcing us to follow this same path. It's like they're leading us somewhere."

Sure enough, the further they ran along this open path, the more they were joined by other panthers that were also being herded in this direction. Soon it was hard to move freely in the streets, there were so many panthers packed together. Terra pushed her way through the throng, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of yellow fur, or even a familiar face. Her brothers had to be around somewhere. Whether she wanted to find them, though, was another thing entirely. And then the streets opened out, the gardens appeared ahead, and Terra realised what was happening.

"The centre of the city…" she whispered to herself, whirling around to find dragons at every possible entrance and exit. Looking up, she saw them circling above as well, like vultures waiting for their turn. "They're trying to surround us!"

It was pandemonium. As the panthers realised they were being herded into a trap, they began to fight back furiously at the walls of dragons. Blood splattered the ground as teeth and claw met scale and fur, and through it all a baritone voice could be heard bellowing above.

"Surround them! Stand your ground!"

For Terra, panic was setting in. She was trapped in a sea of bodies and death, trying desperately to put a stop to the endless fighting. Gripping her stolen javelin, she pushed her way through the disorganised ranks of panthers, begging them to stop, begging them to back down. But every panther she touched shrugged her off angrily or hardly seemed to hear her over the sound of battle. She was jostled and pushed and many times almost ended up on the ground—which might have been a death sentence with so many feet stamping the cobblestones.

No one would listen. No matter how hard she tried. Her words were lost in the noise, her terrified face lost in a sea of angry scowls. She was suffocating, drowning in fear, panic and horror. No one would stop. No one would listen.

Stop…stop….stop!

"Why won't you all just stop?!" Terra shrieked, throwing her head back as the words burst from her heart. But none of the panthers heeded her. They pushed her aside in their panic to escape the death trap the dragons had herded them into. She was a lost soul among a veritable ocean of vengeful spirits. Unfortunately for her, however, someone did hear.

"What is wrong with that panther?" Nyx hissed in the ear of Steel, her fellow assassin, pausing for a moment in the middle of battle.

"She's lost her mind," Steel replied coldly, sneering at the desperate pantheress as she tried in vain to gain attention. "Battle can do that to the weak minded."

"You should put her out of her misery," Nyx snorted, "before she causes more damage than she's worth."

"You read my mind." With a grin as steely as his name, the assassin raised his precious crossbow and pointed it squarely at the distraught pantheress. He lined the bolt up with her chest, paused for a moment to make sure none of the other warriors were in the way, and fired. The silver bolt flew straight and true.

Or it would have, had it not been for the earth guardian.

Terra couldn't stifle a scream when the massive green dragon slammed paws-first into the ground in front of her, deflecting the crossbow bolt with a flick of his huge, leathery wing. She trembled like a leaf in a gale when Terrador turned his stern green eyes upon her, drawing himself up to full height. Whether he wanted to intimidate her or the other panthers around her, Terra couldn't tell. But he did a good job of both.

"Why are you here?" he demanded and, for the second time, words failed her.

"I…I…"

"Stay close," Terrador boomed, ignoring her lack of answer. "We will have this battle won in no time."

"B-but…they're my tribe!" Terra cried, finding her voice once again as a rush of fear—not for her, but for her tribe—swept through her. Terrador stared sharply at her.

"Do you fight for them?"

"I-I don't…"

"You cannot fight for both sides, young one." His eyes softened ever so slightly, but the steely glint of the war general he was remained. "If they back down, we will let them live."

Terra's heart sank into her stomach. They would never give in. It was not in a panther's nature to back down. But she nodded mutely nonetheless. It was only then that she realised Terrador was not the only dragon who had landed in the middle of the panther ranks. There were several guards fighting around them, holding the panthers back as the earth guardian interrogated her. But they were being overrun by the overwhelming force of black cats and would not be able to hold out for much longer.

"Get on," Terrador boomed suddenly, lowering his body beside her. "It is not safe here!"

Terra knew she didn't have time to deliberate. Trying to ignore the accusing eyes of the panthers that saw, she clambered onto the dragon's back and clung tight as he leapt skyward. The other guards followed, leaving behind only those that had been brought down by the panthers. It took Terra several minutes to find the courage to look down upon the sea of black that was her tribe. From the air it was easy to tell that they were in trouble. The dragons approached them from almost every angle, herding them together into one disorganised mess. They were flanked on all sides.

Terra could not see a way out of this. Not unless they surrendered. And they never would.

But neither she nor the dragons were expecting what happened next.

Down on the ground, there was only one panther in charge. The head of the assassins, Silt, took up the mantle without hesitation. No one hesitated to follow his orders. So when he screamed at them to fall back, no one argued. They backed up together, allowing the dragons to press them in from all sides. Allowing the dragons to think they had won.

But there was a second part to Silt's plan.

"Elemental weaponry to the front!" he roared, and the order rippled through the ranks like waves across a pond. Frantically, the panthers began to rearrange themselves.

Above, Terrador stared down at them in confusion, "What are they doing? They were falling back a minute ago…"

"I…I don't know," Terra agreed, peering over the side. Her head spun when she realised just how high up she was, and she quickly buried her face in the earth guardian's neck.

"Something isn't right," Terrador rumbled. "Seriphos!"

The captain of the guard, standing at the head of the dragons on the ground, whirled around to respond, but he never got the chance. Silt screamed another order.

"Give them hell, panthers!"

A collective war-cry rent the dawn air as waves of elemental magic burst from the front ranks of panthers, colliding with the unsuspecting dragons with devastating effect. Elemental magic that only dragons themselves should have been able to wield. Fire, electricity, ice and earth exploded in the ranks of dragons, pushing them back with unexpected ferocity, and bit by bit, the panthers began to push outward. Screams rent the air like knives.

"Terrador!" Seriphos screamed to the sky in anguish, disbelief written across his features. "They're using elemental magic! This isn't possible! This shouldn't be possible!"

"H-how…?" the earth guardian stammered, flashes of magic reflected in his horrified eyes. A growl rumbled deep in his throat. "You never spoke of such magic, panther!"

"I-I didn't know!" Terra cried, tightening her grip around Terrador's neck, terrified he was going to throw her off. "I swear, I didn't know!"

"What do we do, Terrador?" cried a guard hovering beside the earth guardian. "They weren't expecting this! They'll be slaughtered!"

"We fight back!" Terrador roared, eyes flashing defiantly. "They may have the elements, but never forget the elements are what make us dragons! If they want to fight fire with fire, so be it!"

"Master Terrador!" another guard yelled suddenly, winging his way towards the guardian. "The panthers are overwhelming the guards on the eastern wall! They need back up!"

The guard beside Terrador swung his head to and fro in alarm, staring from the dragons below to the distant eastern wall. "The guard is defenceless split apart like this. We need to regroup or we won't stand a chance. We need to get them all in one spot and drive them out as one!"

Terrador ground his teeth together in frustration, "So be it. Send the message to fall back towards the eastern wall. We will regroup with the rest of the guard and make our stand there. I will not lose this city to those vile creatures. Not in this lifetime."

At the mouth of a narrow alleyway, cloaked by dark shadows cast by the tall stone walls, a Death Hound paused to taste the air. Its forked tongue slithered out from between yellowed fangs, licking its leathery nose hungrily. Scowling into the darkness, the hound took several steps into the alley, nose twitching eagerly as it sought out its prey. Swaying on the spot, it lowered its brutish head to the cobblestones and took several deep draughts through its nostrils. A low growl rumbled deep in its chest.

Eyes glinting hungrily, its steps grew more confident as it drew further into the alley, following the enticing scent of prey. So close. So near. Saliva dripped from its fangs as its jaws parted impatiently. It could almost hear its prey now—the trembling beating of its heart; its quick, terrified breaths. So close.

Suddenly there was a commotion at the mouth of the alleyway—the furious roar of a dragon, the twang of a crossbow, and a scream cut alarmingly short. Startled, the hound spun around with a dangerous snarl, daring whoever had snuck up behind it to attack. It caught sight of a dark cat at the mouth of the alley, bleeding profusely from a wound in its side. The smell of blood tainted the air and the hound growled with hunger. It could practically taste its next meal, wafting on the breeze.

The panther screamed as the hound leapt out of the shadows of the alley, and there was a crunch as his ribs shattered under the force of the charge. A short, violent scuffle followed, then a gasp of pain cut abruptly off—and then only silence. For a moment, there was no movement from within the alley. But then the shadows shifted hesitantly, and a cheetah stepped nervously towards the alley mouth, hugging the wall. A quick glance was all she needed to take in the scene before her—a dragon lay several meters away, an arrow through his throat, and across the street the hound was crouched over a crumpled mess of fur, its head shaking to and fro as it gorged itself.

Mari felt her stomach churn with nausea and instantly shrank back against the wall, covering her eyes with a paw. Several deep breaths later and she had managed to quell the sickening turning of her stomach. The hound was still preoccupied with its meal, and the cheetah knew this was her only chance to get away from it. Swallowing her fear, she crept as silently as she could out of the alleyway and slipped down the street, back against the wall, never taking her eyes off the back of the hound. She could hear its teeth crunching through bone and flesh alike, and it made both her head and her gut spin sickeningly.

Only when she had slipped around the corner did she turn around and bolt like a deer. Fear and horror leant her wings as she fled down the street, unshed tears clouding her eyes. She could almost feel the putrid breath of the hound breathing down the back of her neck, just as it had done in the alley. An inch more and it would have sunk those horrid, blood-stained fangs into her own flesh. She tried not to think about it. But that only made it worse.

Wishing she was anywhere else but here, Mari staggered around the next corner and skidded to a halt. In front of her, the street was packed with panthers and dragons alike. How she had not noticed the noise, she didn't know. Their screams, roars and war-cries filled the air in an agonizing cacophony of death and fighting. Terrified as she was, the sight of the panthers jogged Mari's overwhelmed mind and she uttered a strangled gasp.

Terra.

Desperation to find her friend replaced her mind-numbing fear, and Mari dashed almost blindly into the field of battle. Dodging around weapons and claws, she cried the pantheress's name desperately, screaming to the wind. But no one answered her cries. It was only the fact that none of the panthers had been expecting to see a cheetah at Warfang that morning that saved Mari's life. Every time one spotted her, they would pause and stare—and in that split second, Mari would disappear, too preoccupied by her search for Terra to notice.

But the word of a cheetah in their midst swept quickly through the ranks of panthers, and soon all were on the lookout for the elusive yellow cat on the battlefield.

Mari had just barely dodged a barrage of ice spears from a particularly enraged and careless ice dragon when her luck ran out. Stumbled over shards of ice left on the ground, she slipped and shouldered into a solid figure with his back to her. She managed to regain her balance quickly, but was not fast enough to avoid the counter strike of the panther she had crashed into. He whirled around in a furious but smooth motion, whipping his weapon out in front of him, and it was only sheer luck that it was the blunt staff that struck Mari across the head, and not the deadly blades on either end.

She yelped as she went down, crashing to the cobblestones harshly as her feet slipped out from under her. Her head almost hit the ground, but she managed to catch herself on her hands just in time. The point where the staff had struck her head—just above her left eyebrow—began to throb, and that eye filled with tears of pain. Twisting around, she felt ice fill her veins as she found herself staring down the length of a deadly sharp blade. The sounds of battle faded around her.

As though in slow motion, Mari's eyes drifted upwards to meet those of her attacker. Olive green—they were filled with all the fury of battle and the readiness to kill. It was just unfortunate that she was on the end of his blade. Her muscles seized up in panic—her mind had frozen, the urge to fight or flee quelled by the knowledge that there was no escape. The blade was at her throat.

She was going to die.

But he did not strike. For what seemed like ages—it could have been seconds or hours—Mari stared at the face of her would-be killer, and he stared back. The fury in his eyes was fading strangely, the blazing eagerness replaced by confusion and conflict. The strange weapon—was it sword or staff?—trembled in his grip, inches from the delicate skin of her throat. And slowly, agonizingly, he began to lower it.

"Get the hell away from her!"

A gruff voice, filled with more fear and anger than Mari had ever heard in it before, wrenched through the silence with all the subtly of a blazing fireball. The blade at her throat vanished and Mari scrambled to her feet, whirling around in a panic. A rush of golden fur flashed past her, and the glint of a giant spearhead, heading straight for the olive-eyed panther.

"Cougar, stop!" Mari shrieked, throwing herself at her cousin. She caught him around the chest, wrapping her arms around him and pushing him back with all her might. He struggled against her; desperate to get to the one who had—in his eyes—almost cost Mari her life.

"I'll kill him. I'll kill him!"

"Stop! You didn't see! He…!" Mari gulped and chanced a glance behind her as Cougar's struggles eased. But the olive-eyed panther had disappeared back into the sea of battle. He was nowhere to be seen. Arms falling to her side, Mari stared at the spot where he had been standing but moments ago.

"He…hesitated."

Her shriek could have shattered eardrums as it leapt from her mouth, amplified by a cone of wind that blasted through the splintered doorframe and sent all three cats flying. They skidded to a halt near the middle of the burning warehouse, and by the time they had struggled to their feet, Zephira was already stalking towards them. Her violet eyes burned with reflected flames, but even they could not compare to the overwhelming heat of her hatred. Charred shards of wood crunched under her paws, coating her ivory scales in a layer of blackened ash.

Skulk twirled his swords as he rolled his shoulders, looking murderous after his tumble across the stone floor, which was starting to absorb the heat of the fires. Voltage danced up and down his blades, leaping outwards to reflect in his stormy, ocean eyes. They roved over Zephira's frail form as she stalked forward to meet him, a slow, deliberate purpose to her steps. For a moment he thought he remembered tears streaming from those hate-filled eyes. And the bloodied body of a blue dragon.

"Didn't I kill you already?" he asked, almost nonchalantly, cocking an eyebrow. Zephira's entire frame trembled with rage.

"You'll regret that you didn't," she hissed. Their gazes met and held, and Zephira saw the same merciless cruelty she had seen the day her brother died. Blinding fury bled through her veins like molten lava. She was burning up. She was the flames.

Without another word, she charged. Wind danced around her paws, forming into solid blades that whirled and twisted around her legs, creeping up to shield her chest and neck. Her forepaws drummed a murderous rhythm on the burning stone floor, thundering in time with the heavy beating of her heart. It was all she could hear. But all she could see was his eyes as he stood before her, raising his blades to brace for impact. Her high-pitched war-cry left her lips before she had a chance to consciously let it out.

Blades of wind met blades of metal as Zephira leapt and powered into Skulk, driving him backwards several feet. He twisted and pushed with his swords, and Zephira's momentum sent her tumbling over the floor somewhere to his left. She rolled upright without hesitating, emitting a shrill cry and a spear of solid wind that threatened to skewer the panther alive. But Skulk's eyes flashed with defiance and he spun forwards, slashing the air with his blades, severing the spear into slivers of harmless wind before it could reach him. Twisting to face his ivory opponent, he thrust one blade towards her, forcing the twitching tongues of voltage to rush through the air in search of prey.

Zephira screamed as the electricity seized her scales and ravaged her veins, sending waves of agony through her entire body. But her eyes cracked open defiantly and she straightened up slowly, fighting bravely against the voltage dancing over her scars. Spinning in a tight circle, she conjured a sphere of wind that blasted the electricity away in all directions. But it didn't stop there. Expanding rapidly with the force of a hurricane, her sphere of wind struck Skulk in the chest, and no amount of bracing could save him from being hurled backwards.

Not waiting for her opponent to recover, Zephira hurtled across the room towards him, powering through smoke and ash as the flames around them grew ever larger.

As dragon and panther fought, Hunter was engaged in his own tussle. Zephira's first attack had sent him flying along with the twins, but upon landing he had discovered his sword laying barely an arm's length away. Nearby, Skelos was groaning on the ground, clutching his injured arm, two broken arrow shafts still protruding from his dark fur. Hunter didn't wait for him to recover. He scrambled to his feet in an instant, snatching up his blade and backing away from the injured panther.

Only for a moment did he consider attacking. But the idea of killing a downed opponent did not sit right with Hunter. If he was to kill, his opponent had to be fighting until the very end.

But that hesitation almost cost him his life.

Skelos hadn't let go of his staff, and the instant he realised his adversary was back on his feet, he knew he had to strike first or be killed. Twisting onto his back, he swung his staff up with all the strength he could muster and aimed the spirit gem straight at Hunter. A fireball shot from the glowing gem, burning a path through the already ash-chocked air.

Hunter just barely managed to tip his body to the side, feeling the condensed flames sear through his golden fur and scorch the delicate skin of his arm. Groaning, he caught himself on one knee and clapped a hand to the injury, which had been inflicted on his right shoulder, just below the matted wound Skelos's staff had given him previously. Shaking, he pushed himself back to his feet and raised his sword in his wounded arm, breathing heavily.

"Tricky. Attacking even when you're down. I can't say you're not resourceful."

"And you…are a fool for not finishing me while I was down," Skelos shot back, voice taut with pain. His attack had granted him the time he needed to get back on his feet, and now he faced Hunter on even grounds—both wounded, both willing to kill. It was only a matter of who could hold out longest.

"Rest assured I won't make that mistake again," Hunter said darkly. His bow lay forgotten on the floor, surrounded by several arrows that had fallen out of the quiver still strapped to his back. For the moment, the steel in his hand was all he needed to defend himself against this panther.

"I suppose it's time to finish this, then."

Hunter inclined his head, unable to keep from watching Skulk's battle with Zephira out of the corner of his eye. "After you."

Skelos charged at the same time as his twin. His staff met Hunter's sword as Skulk's rapiers clashed with the blades of wind that sprang up to protect their conjurer. Side by side in a perfect rhythm, the four combatants whirled around one another, dodging strikes as often as they performed them. Fed by Zephira's wind, the flames grew higher, wider and hotter as panther, cheetah and dragon exchanged blows, fighting with the strength of their ancestors. Backwards and forwards across the burning stone floor, they danced and weaved, unaware of anything but their opponents.

But the dance could not last forever. Sooner or later, one would slip up—a paw would step the wrong way, an injured limb would fail.

Zephira only let her guard down for a second.

She heard Hunter yell as he barely dodged a spear of fire from Skelos's staff, and half-turned to help him. It was barely an instant, but Skulk took advantage of it all too easily. Slashing through the shield of wind that had been protecting Zephira, he caught the white dragoness a blow to the cheek. His thin blade cut a line from beneath her eye to the base of her jaw before she screamed and jerked away. But the damage was done.

Disorientated and blinded by pain, Zephira tripped over her paws as Skulk kicked out at her. His foot caught her in the ribs and sent her crashing into a burning stack of crates with enough force to splinter the charred wood. Pieces of armour exploded across the floor as the crates shattered, covering Zephira from head to tail. She struggled to get out from under a particularly large breastplate, but Skulk was already upon her, raising his blades to finish the job.

"I'll make sure I kill you, this time," he said with a cold grimace, "and you can join your dear brother in the afterlife."

Zephira's eyes widened and darkened with anger. With a shriek she coated her paws in tangible wind and thrust outwards, just as Skulk brought his rapiers down upon her. Metal sliced through her shields of wind and cut deep into the pads of her paws, but Zephira held her ground, forcing the blades away from her neck with as much strength as she could muster. Voltage jerked angrily from the thin steel and danced furiously through her veins, but she forced her eyes to travel upwards—to meet Skulk's.

"I won't be the one dying today," she said in little more than a whisper.

Across the other side of the warehouse, Hunter and Skelos were matched paw to paw. The cheetah ducked under his opponent's swing and aimed a strike for his ribs, only to be avoided by a quick sidestep. Twisting, he caught the staff on the flat of his blade before it could strike his head and thrust it away strongly. His body was thrumming with the adrenaline of battle and his paws moved almost of their own accord.

Another twist, another strike, another dodge—Skelos was losing speed. The arrows in his arm were slowing him down, and Hunter's wounds were minor in comparison. The panther was getting desperate. And with desperation came mistakes.

Skelos didn't see the tip of the blade before it was upon him. It slashed across his face, tearing a burning line from the top of his eyebrow, down over his left eye, to the centre of his cheek. His scream of agony drowned out even the furious crackling of fire as it burned the warehouse to the ground around them. Staggering backwards, he clasped a paw over his eye, howling with pain as blood began to pool under his palm. It dripped down his face and over his wrist as he kept his hand pressed desperately to the wound, screaming as it burned.

He barely noticed as he was brought to his knees and his staff clattered to the ground beside him. It was his twin's scream that made Skulk falter and glance behind him, though his swords still pinned Zephira to the ground.

"Skelos!"

Turning at the sound, Hunter noticed Zephira's predicament for the first time. Yelling her name, he put Skelos from his mind and dashed towards the pinned dragoness. Behind him, Skelos had stopped howling, one paw still pressed over his eye—but his other was reaching for his staff. Zephira saw it through a haze of smoke and pain.

"Hunter! Behind you!"

The cheetah faltered mid charge and turned—just in time to see Skelos surge back to his feet, and a wave of conjured fire rolled out to meet him. The cheetah dropped to the ground on instinct, trying to avoid the fire that washed hungrily over his fur. It scorched his back painfully, but Zephira's warning had spared him the worst of the attack. He found himself hoping the flames would reach Skulk instead, but they fizzled and died before they even got near him.

Skelos's good eye blazed like fire itself as he strode towards the downed cheetah, still keeping a paw clasped over his face. Blood ran down his face and neck in rivers, and his other paw was gripping his staff so fiercely that the skin beneath his dark fur had turned white. Throughout their fight, Hunter had never seen him look as angry as he did now. Rage rolled off him in waves.

"You bastard! You bastard cheetah!" he screeched. "You and your entire tribe will suffer for this! I will make sure of it personally."

"I won't…let you anywhere near my tribe…" Hunter grunted, pushing himself back to his feet.

Behind him, Zephira struggled against the panther pinning her down, still struggling to keep his swords from beheading her. The blades were imbedded deep in the pads of her paws down, and blood was flowing unchecked down the formerly ivory scales of her forelegs. Tears of pain clouded her eyes, but she glared through them. She wouldn't give up.

"Let me up!"

"No, little dragon," Skulk cooed in a voice that was almost as soothing as it was venomous. "You and your cheetah friend will die here. And no one else is here to save you."

But no one was expecting the ceiling to explode.

While Terrador and the western guard force retreated to the eastern wall to regroup with the guards there, Cyril and Volteer had taken to the skies to survey the battle from above. Despite their arguing tendencies, they worked well together, and many a Dreadwing fell to their experienced claws. They powered through the skies, an unstoppable force of water and electricity, complimenting each other with insults.

"Barbaric, Volteer!" Cyril cried as a Dreadwing fell to the yellow guardian's electricity. "You couldn't have been any less tactical! Just shoot and shock, is that all you can do?"

"If you weren't so distressed, concerned, and troubled with meticulous precision, your allocation of eradication may have the potential to contest my own, Cyril!" Volteer shot back, downing another Dreadwing with a voltage-charged tailblade to the throat.

"Yes, you would like to think you are a better fighter than I, wouldn't you?" Cyril sniffed and peppered a Dreadwing with a barrage of meticulously spaced icicles. It fell with a dying screech to the streets below. "But it is I who has exterminated more of these brutish beasts than you this day, old friend!"

"Your superciliousness reeks almost as much as your pretentiousness and pomposity!"

Twisting around to blast another Dreadwing out of the air with a spray of fine icicles, Cyril spotted something that made the retort he'd prepared die on his tongue. Far across the city, near the western wall, smoke was billowing into the air, so thick it was almost black against the lightening sky. The ice guardian whirled back to his fellow guardian, eyes wide.

"Volteer! There is a building on fire near the western wall!"

The yellow guardian's eyes widened in alarm. "There might be civilians trapped, imprisoned, incarcerated, unable to escape…!"

"Enough with your rambling!" Cyril shot back, already powering towards the smoke. "Turn those words into actions, since you have so many of them!"

Side by side, they soared over the city away from the centre of battle, dodging stray Dreadwings in their path. Volteer was a faster flier, and it was he who reached the burning warehouse first. Though he strained his eyes, it was impossible to see through the cloying smoke and into the building. The crackling of fire drowned everything out, and the guardian had no idea if any innocent civilians were trapped inside, or if it was just an empty warehouse. But he quickly decided it was better to play it safe—if there was anyone trapped inside, they would need his help.

Without waiting for Cyril to catch up, Volteer blasted the already broken roof with a storm of electricity. Pieces of burning wood and charred iron were sent flying in the resulting explosion, and the smoke cleared for a brief instant. In that instant, the electric guardian saw movement below him, and knew there was someone—or more than one 'someone'—inside the warehouse. As Cyril finally caught up, Volteer descended through the shattered roof to assist whoever it was.

"Impatient as usual," said Cyril's obnoxious voice above him, and he felt the ice guardian descend beside him, muttering disapprovingly. "You could have injured whoever was inside…"

The two guardians alighted on hot stone in a flurry of ash and smoke that sent everyone around them into a coughing fit. When the dust cleared, they found themselves standing in the middle of what had apparently been a battle. Hunter and a panther were sprawled on the ground, apparently having been knocked down by the explosion of the roof being torn apart, and another panther was crouched over a wide-eyed Zephira. All four of them looked utterly stunned by the sudden appearance of the guardians.

"Fiends!" Volteer cried suddenly, making everyone jump. "Enemies! Adversaries!"

"Step away from the young dragoness!" Cyril ordered furiously, and when the panther refused to obey, spat an icicle at him. Skulk rolled to the side to avoid it, finally allowing Zephira to struggle back to her feet. She sat back on her haunches, hugging her bleeding forepaws to her chest and breathing heavily, eyes dilated.

"M-Master Cyril…" she stammered.

"What happened here?" the ice guardian demanded, while Volteer rambled on behind him.

"Forgive me, guardians," Hunter said in a tight voice, pushing himself to his feet for what felt like the tenth time in the last hour. "Things escalated quickly. This fool set the warehouse on fire while I was fighting him."

"Did he?" Cyril snorted a frosty cloud of particles from his nostrils, glaring down upon Skelos, who still hadn't removed his hand from his bleeding face.

"It's clear that we're outnumbered," the panther spat back, struggling to stand up. Skulk was soon at his side, slinging his twin's free arm around his shoulders and pulling him to his feet. He glared daggers at the guardians, but even he knew when a battle was lost.

"It would be wise to take our leave now, brother," he muttered quietly, fur prickling under the angry gazes of the two huge dragons.

"If they will let us," Skelos muttered edgily. A sudden shriek permeated the air, and both panthers looked up. Skulk grinned.

"I don't think we have to worry about that, Skelos. A friend of yours seems to have followed these buffoons here."

"What?" Cyril looked up just in time to see the Dreadwing dive through what remained of the roof, sending smoke flying with every beat of its wings. It aimed for the panthers and landed heavily in front of them, ushering a cloud of ash up from the hot floor.

Skulk sheathed one sword and pointed the other at the dragons and Hunter, jostling his twin roughly as he did so. Catching the message, Skelos raised his staff parallel to his brother's rapier, until both weapons were pointed squarely at their opponents. Skulk grinned.

"A parting gift," he said.

"Get down!" Cyril roared as a ball of combined fire and electricity streaked towards them, howling a song of death as it screamed through the smoke and ash. The ice guardian skidded in front of the others, spreading his wings to shield Zephira and Hunter, and breathed a concentrated mist of ice from his maw. The ice solidified into a domed shield just in time to take the brunt of the electrified fireball, but the shockwave was still enough to drive Cyril backwards.

Steam filled the air as the ice was vaporised almost instantly by the fireball, and by the time it had cleared, both the twins and the Dreadwing were gone. Cyril regained his footing and spat an icicle angrily at the ground. It melted quickly under the heat of the fires that still raged around them.

"They got away." The ice guardian sighed. "Oh well, small matter. Come now, we'd best get out of here before this warehouse becomes our tomb."

The wind whistled tauntingly around them as Drehgarr carried the panther twins away from the burning warehouse. Skulk sat in front, clutching the Dreadwing's feathery neck fur, his rapiers back in their sheaths. Skelos sat behind him, one arm curled around his twin's waist to keep himself from falling, and his other paw pressed against his wounded eye. His staff lay across his lap, held in place only by his elbows, threatening to fall with every duck and swoop of the Dreadwing.

"You couldn't have come at a better time, Drehgarr," Skulk praised, before calling back to his brother. "How's the eye?"

"Not good," Skelos hissed between his teeth, sounding highly unappreciative of the question. Skulk grunted in what could have been sympathy, but was more likely annoyance.

"What's the situation, Drehgarr?" he asked instead, turning his attention back to the Dreadwing.

Drehgarr uttered a high-pitched sort of growl, "Dragons retreat to east wall. Panthers have advent…adva…"

"Advantage?" Skulk offered helpfully, craning his head to look below as they flew over the centre of the city and headed towards the eastern sector. Drehgarr uttered a growl of agreement, which seemed to satisfy the panther. "Good. Soon we'll have those dragons surrounded in their own city, and then Warfang will be ours."

But Drehgarr growled disapprovingly and shook beneath them, prompting Skelos to tighten his grip on his brother. "Dreadwings…suffer. Fall to moles."

"Moles?" Skelos echoed, his one good eye scanning the ground below. But all he saw were panthers and dragons in the streets, none of the furry little cannonballs that the dragons called moles.

A Dreadwing shrieked suddenly from ahead of them, and the twins looked up in alarm to see it fall from the sky, its fur smoking. Then a ball of what seemed to be fire shot through the air towards them, and Drehgarr just barely avoided it. Scowling, Skulk quickly traced the projectile to its source. Lined up along the eastern wall were countless miniature catapults, each manned by a stocky furry creature—moles.

"Catapults," he hissed to his brother, who scowled in annoyance. Another Dreadwing fell to the flaming projectiles only seconds later, tumbling to the ground with a pitiful scream of dying agony.

"I don't understand," Skelos started to say, only to be cut off by a yell from his brother as Drehgarr reeled backwards. A ball of fire—or was it fabric that had been set on fire?—powered through the air towards them, clipping the tip of one of Drehgarr's wings. The Dreadwing reeled sideways and fell several meters, struggling to regain altitude. Skulk's paws tightened on Drehgarr's fur, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Bloody moles!" Skulk roared as Drehgarr recovered and soared back up again, inches away from crashing into one of the taller buildings in the city. Spinning around, the Dreadwing pinpointed the catapult that had almost brought he and his passengers down, and cracked open his jaws. A ball of bright red energy shot from his maw, searing through the open air, until it collided with the catapult in a flash of crimson light. When the light faded, only a thin trail of smoke remained—and the limp body of a mole beside the shattered remnants of his catapult. Drehgarr wheeled away, satisfied.

"Now that that's taken care of…" Skulk muttered, returning his attention to the battle below. As far as he could see, the dragons were being pushed back to the eastern wall by the panthers who had only previously been trapped in the centre of the city. But the more he watched, the more he noticed something else.

"Wait a moment…" his eyes raked the battlefield, seeking out the separate forces of dragons fighting below. "Those dragons aren't retreating… They're trying to regroup!"

"What?" Skelos exclaimed behind him, leaning around his twin to look. Skulk was grinding his teeth in anger.

"We had them separated! They're falling back to regroup, and once they do, our warriors will be trapped against the wall! We can't let them regroup!"

Drehgarr grunted in agreement and dove towards the battle, but another fireball cut the air in front of him and he was forced to swerve to avoid it again. Angrily, Skulk twisted around and guided the Dreadwing to the offending catapult. Another blast of red energy, and another mole was brought down. By now, Skelos was trembling with anger.

"I don't understand!" he exploded. "Why did they set up the catapults unless they had known we had airborne forces?! They should not have known about the Dreadwings, so why set up the catapults? What use could they be against grounded forces? It doesn't make sense!"

"You don't think they were spying on us, do you?' Skulk called back over the roar of wind in their ears. Drehgarr was soaring towards the main throng of panthers now—they had to be told what the dragons were planning.

"Impossible!" Skelos yelled. "We'd have noticed a spy!"

"True," Skulk grunted, his paws tightening around Drehgarr's fur again. "No spy would have been able to slip through our ranks and feed information back to the dragons."

"Unless…" for a moment Skelos was silent, eerily so. Skulk glanced behind him curiously, and saw his twin staring at the eastern wall with his one good eye.

"What is it?"

Skelos didn't respond immediately. The noise of the battle below seemed far away now, utter disbelief rendering all his other senses incapable—just for a moment. He could not believe his eye, but it told no lie as a great green dragon—the earth guardian, if Skelos remembered right—deposited a panther on the eastern battlements. A panther that had been sitting on his back. And now she stood at the top of the wall, staring down at the battle below her as the dragons began to regroup and the panthers began to realise the trap. She didn't even move to help. Nor did any dragon move to attack her.

As far as he could see, she was the dragons' ally. Disbelieving fury pulsed through his veins and sweat formed in the pads of his paws.

"Unless the spy was not one of theirs…"

"What do you mean?" Skulk shot back, tearing his eyes away from the battle below to stare at his twin. Skelos didn't take his good eye away from the pantheress on the wall.

"What if the spy was one of ours?"

At last Skulk followed his twin's gaze and saw the panther on the wall. His eyes widened then narrowed and he steered Drehgarr towards the wall suddenly, forgetting the battle for a moment. But then Skelos released Skulk's waist and instead placed his paw on his twin's shoulder, squeezing it roughly.

"Set me down on the wall. You need to lead our warriors out of this trap. Let me deal with her."

Skulk snorted, "If you'd rather. You always were better at dealing with her than I was."

Skelos's jaw tightened and his good eye turned steely, but he said nothing. As Drehgarr swooped close to the battlements, he leapt from the Dreadwing's back and landed cat-like on the top of the wall, staff in hand. Shaking off the shock of the impact, he straightened up and faced the pantheress, his gaze cold and accusing. She stared in utter shock at him, but behind that, Skelos was certain he could see fear and guilt hiding in her eyes.

She only said a single word, but it was so laced with guilt that it already sounded like a confession.

"Skelos…"

His single eye darkened like storm clouds moving over the ocean.

"Hello, sister."