Fury Incarnate

When Roland came to, there was yet more darkness. Groggy eyelids opened to the black. The chill sent shivers rattling down his body. There was a leathery weight on his mouth, something clamping it shut, and every one of his limbs were sprawled across a rough surface he couldn't see. He tried to move his weak paws, but an unknown force pulled against them. He shifted his body and attempted to shake free of his invisible shackles.

His blurry mind soon realised the situation he was in: there were leathery cuffs fastened to each paw, multiple tightened around the membrane of his wings, and several others holding down his tail. Only his head remained free.

He was bound to a platform of some kind. He had no clue why. Hadn't he been at the cave?

He started thinking about it. What had happened back at the hollow? He'd been there one moment, and then the next...

Suddenly, it hit him. The dart. The wave of green. Those hooded cheetahs...

His breaths quickened.

He struggled to tear his bonds free, tried to rip the muzzle open using the force of his mouth alone, even tried to bite at the leather itself, but nothing was of use. He wanted to scream in panic and rage, as though to unearth some hidden strength embedded inside him, but all that came out was muffled horror. He was stuck, at the mercy of the Guardians, vulnerable to their wishes.

The scream triggered something, though: a light in the corner of his vision. He saw flickering candlelight, the unmistakable face of Wren's twin brother hunched over long wax candles, breathing a steady stream of flame upon their wicks. He walked around the room in an arch, revealing the pillared, circular chamber Roland lay in the middle of as he went. Now Roland could see his bonds, the brown leather pulled taut around everything, and his helmet and satchel laying on the floor beside the platform. His eyes flicked around the room, searching for any means of escape, but the only things he could see were the large oaken door far behind him, shut and probably locked up, and the curtained glass windows on either side.

Brenton's fire disclosed the locations of the other Guardians, the earth and wind dragons standing upon a set of stairs, both smiling and cuddling with each other. Panicking and looking further, his eyes fell upon the darkened, beaten form of Wren, locked in tight chains against the wall, his mouth muzzled up like he was some kind of hound. Roland realised he was wearing the same thing and once again tried to snap it open.

"There is no point in trying to break it," Brenton said. "That leather is reinforced. You'll never get it undone."

Roland looked at the fire Guardian once, then very quickly went back to trying to break free. Brenton sighed, muttered something along the lines of 'kids,' and walked to the stone surface. Roland thought he heard the earth Guardian, Trevena, giggle to herself, probably at his struggle, but he couldn't be sure.

Brenton peered over his pregnable form, imposing body towering over the red dragon. With wide eyes, Roland stared into the fire Guardian's nonchalant gaze, a wetness bubbling over his own.

"I thought the time dragon would be more than this." Brenton shook his head, disappointed in that fact for some reason. "But you're barely even capable. And look at this... this fragile body."

Brenton latched his paw onto Roland's right leg and squeezed the weak muscle with what felt like all of his might. Roland wanted to cry out in pain, but the muzzle restrained his noise.

"Pathetic. Why were we fretful about you? You're barely even a dragon."

Brenton let go, giving Roland a short moment to rest, then lifted a paw. His gleaming claws were a muted orange. They hovered around Roland's torso; Roland clenched his tearful eyes shut, tensing for more agony.

"You..." Brenton lowered his paw upon the red dragon's chest, scraping heated claws along soft scales. There was a small hiss, but it was barely audible over the red dragon's muffled sobs. Tears streamed down the sides of Roland's head, pooling on the stone platform. A wet warmth trickled down his chest as Brenton slowly grazed his scales. He stopped before he reached the end of the bound dragon's stomach. "How can you even be called the time dragon? What can you do besides shooting crystals?"

"Don't hurt him too much. We still need him," Trevena called from the other end of the room. Roland would've been glad to hear that, but he wasn't naïve to her true intentions. She wanted to slice him up just as much.

Why were they hurting him? Why were they putting him through this?

Why hadn't they killed him yet?

Something about Brenton's expression wavered. He put a paw to the shaking dragon's forehead and shut his eyes.

"You're... You're wondering why we haven't killed you already?"

Roland did his best to nod through his sobs.

"That's depressing, young dragon. I wouldn't expect that out of somebody like you. I thought you would've liked to live."

Roland wasn't sure how to answer that in his current state, nor did he want to. No matter his answer, they would end up killing him anyway. He was as good as dead. All they were doing was torturing him before that. For pleasure or for whatever reason, he didn't know. Were they trying to break him? Was this a game to them?

"No, no, young dragon," Brenton said. Roland had never witnessed this kind of mind magic before, this reading of his thoughts. Telepathy was one thing, but this was on a different level. "I wouldn't say you're as good as dead yet. You can help us by freeing the wyverns early. It came to my attention not long ago that you're able to make them grow instantaneously with your magic. Usually they would take a month to hatch, but using you, we can speed up the process of them, just like you have the others. That's about all you're good for. After that, we can release you... or you can die. Whichever one you prefer. It won't matter in the end. You're going to hell either way."

He'd made the wyverns grow up? How had he done that? He'd unintentionally helped the Guardians?

No, that couldn't be true...

"Yes. Something about your magical aura reacts with them and makes them grow, like they're absorbing your mana. Or so that's what I've heard. Very useful, indeed."

He didn't want to listen, but so much of this made sense to him. The pound of the eggs growing more swift as he edged closer, then exploding in a sea of white as he stood before them. They'd been eating up his mana without him realising it.

If only he'd known...

All this meant that those cheetahs who'd tried to capture him earlier had been bluffing about killing him. They didn't actually want him dead. Roland's mind spun and spiralled, working itself to process this information while he cried.

Why would they think like this? Why would they believe in what they did?

"Why do you believe in things you do, Roland?"

Nothing they thought was true. There was no world after this. The Black Horror would consume everything. All life would come to a halt when the magic ran out.

"And like a flower, new life will blossom," Brenton said. "There's no questioning that. A new age for dragonkind's most perfect will begin. Everyone will be happy. Negativity will be a thing of the past."

How was that in any way at all unquestionable? How delusional was this orange dragon?

Brenton growled before wrapping a paw around Roland's throat, his fangs bared. Roland gasped and spluttered before Brenton started to squeeze. Roland choked and gagged.

"I am not delusional! This is prophesied!" Brenton dug his nails into Roland's neck, drawing blood. Roland felt the world darkening, lungs starved for oxygen, the searing pain in his chest and neck rendering his mind awash. The Guardian noticed this before hesitantly stopping, breathing a calming sigh. Roland coughed into the muzzle, felt vomit rising in his throat like an exhalation. "This is meant to be. This is what Malefor would want. You are the factor that ruins his desires. You're not supposed to exist. You are unnatural. A demon. A monster."

Roland tried not to think. He just choked and sobbed into his leathery muffler.

"A monster that we can utilise, however. I won't put you out of your misery. Before we put you to use in releasing the wyverns, though, we have another idea for you. We can use you before that."

Roland grunted, wondering what on earth the orange dragon was considering. He looked around again, hoping desperately for an escape somewhere, but all his eyes landed on was Wren's bruised form in the corner. He was awake now, rattling the chains around as he tried to break free. Green embers danced around glowing emerald-like gemstones fitted into the chains. Roland could feel Wren's powerful magic in the air, fuelled by his rage, but every last bit evaporated before it could take form.

He'd seen that magic before. Those green gems devoured the mana right out of a dragon, one of the only inventions from the apes still used to this day. He'd worn something like them before in the Firemore dungeons, but back then, he hadn't been able to feel his magic whatsoever, so it hadn't mattered.

His magic... He had his magic still. Could he use that to escape his bonds? Maybe if he could get the paw magic to not shatter in his paws, he could summon a sharp crystal and slash himself free.

But he'd need a distraction for that. Brenton was right there in front of him.

If only he had his friends...

Were Myrtle and Tris even still alive?

Roland had lost too much of his optimism to believe they were at this point. He shut his eyes. In pain, both mental and physical, Roland wept into the muzzle.

"Now, Wren..." Iris started as she parted from her mate and walked towards him. Trevena followed, a wicked grin revealing those keen fangs. "We're... going to need you, too. I'm sorry if you don't enjoy this, but we need your dragons. With your blood, they'll be strong and avid followers."

Roland couldn't help but frown in confusion. What were they trying to say? Wren's dragons?

"We're going to use you and Wren to create armies of dragons," Brenton said. "Wren will provide the sperm, the female Guardians the eggs, and you will provide the time magic to make the eggs swell quicker than light inside of Trevena and Iris. They will follow us into the new world. The original plan was to sway the city to our side, but this... this could be much, much easier."

Roland's eyes gaped like ravines, his attention shifting to the ice dragon shaking his head and trying to snap free. All Wren managed to do was fall onto his side, and because the chains gripped him with such an unbelievable tightness, he couldn't get back up again; all he could do was wait to be pounced upon by the dragonesses.

As Trevena got near, she laughed at Wren's pitiful form and put her face next to his. Wren grunted into his muzzle, probably meant to be an insult to the earth Guardian, but it was understood by nobody.

"Oh, you want to say something?" Trevena asked. She gripped his mouth and tore the muzzle straight off his face. Wren spat into the ground, a glob of red that he clearly couldn't get out of his mouth before.

"Young dragon..." Wren croaked, then he started to splutter. It took Roland a moment to realise he was being talked to. "I-I'm s-sorry about my brother and... a-all this. I-I shouldn't have... g-gotten you mixed up in it. I needed a t-time dragon, one I could train to... to freeze the purple dragon away forever. And no... I-I never saw anything in the pool of visions. I m-made it all up. I-I used you like you were j-just an element..."

The red dragon wasn't even sure how to respond to that. All of this had just been rendered totally pointless. Learning time magic, even just coming to Shimmervale... They should've kept far away from the Guardians. They should've kept going to Warfang.

"I-if it means anything now," the blue dragon continued, "I-I'm... s-sorry."

Roland didn't care anymore. His life was over. Why would he care about anything now?

"Are you done?" Iris asked, trailing a sensual claw down the blue dragon's stomach. "Can we begin?"

Trevena grinned as she turned around for Wren and lifted her tail. "Oh, I think so, honey. You don't need to ask..."

And then, as if hope had been watching over Roland like some kind of guardian, the window on the left smashed, glass twinkling like polished knives as it sprayed through the air. There came something like a pent-up gag from Iris' direction before the wind Guardian lurched forward and fell on top of Trevena.

"I-Iris?" Trevena muttered. She turned the dragoness' head over and saw the sizeable hole drilled into the back of her skull, the insides mutilated beyond belief. "N-no..."

Roland looked back up at the window, this miracle sparking a new blaze inside of him. Through the window, like a graceful bird of prey, came the dreadwing he'd grown to adore, Ashlyn riding atop him, piloting him towards the floor.

"Over there!" she yelled, pointing to the older dragons. "Scream, Fluffy!"

Fluffy followed without a moment of pause, the quietude once only snapped by Roland's cries now shattered by the song of the dreadwing. Fluffy's eyes locked with Roland's, and when that happened, something seemed to snap in Fluffy's gaze. When the next scream came forth, the air around his mouth whipped with red particles, fear magic solidified.

The leftover Guardians couldn't take such a thing. Trevena curled into a ball of stone to hide from the scream. Brenton took it even worse and charged away, colliding with and breaking through the other window. Roland looked up in glee and tears, rattling his chains to get their attention.

"Down there!" another voice called, one Roland felt he recognised but couldn't place a claw on. It was too muffled to make out. He looked at Fluffy and saw yet another figure atop the dreadwing's back, a green-cloaked figure in a shining metal mask. He was almost scared for a second, but when he acknowledged the gun held in the cheetah's metallic paw, he realised it was that same figure who'd saved him before.

Fluffy landed upon the stone next to Roland, the floor quaking beneath his feet. He kept momentarily screaming in the direction of the balled earth. Trevena trembled in fright, the dreadwing's magic overpowering her senses.

Ashlyn and the hooded cheetah jumped off of Fluffy and rushed to Roland's aid. Roland sighed into his muzzle. Ashlyn, a glint of fury in her eyes, tore the muffler off Roland's face and immediately got to work slashing away the bonds with the cheetah.

"Ancestors... I'm so glad you're okay," she said. The moonlight now pouring into the room made those sapphires of hers twinkle. "I-I'm glad everybody's okay..."

"Myrtle and Tris? They're alright, too?" He wiped a paw over his eyes as soon as it was freed from captivity. He started slicing away the leather cuffs as well when he was capable.

"Yes." The cheetah nodded. "They're alright. We found them first. They went for the docks to prepare Alevor and the ship. They wanted to follow, but with a dreadwing, Ashlyn and I knew we would be okay."

"I... I recognise your voice." Roland got up as soon as he was able. "Who are you?"

"Harper."

What? That couldn't be right. Roland staggered backwards a little, his maw agape. He thought he wouldn't ever see him again, especially not so soon...

"There's no time to explain here," Harper said, throwing the mask on his face to the floor. There was no mistaking it. Roland knew those yellow eyes, that old fur. Harper climbed aboard the dreadwing, his loathing for the monster abnormally vanquished in this moment. Like he realised he'd been wrong about Fluffy. "We need to leave. I'll explain on the way."

"Come on!" Ashlyn called, waving a claw at Roland. "Hop on, Roland! Fluffy's faster."

Roland looked over at Wren, who stared over at him in guilt. The blue dragon just closed his eyes. He'd already accepted his fate. "What about Wren?"

Everybody looked at the ice dragon. He noticed their stares and sighed. "Th-these chains won't ever come off a-and I'm t-too... too weak to fly or run. Leave me here. It's... It's what I deserve anyway."

Roland wasn't really sure if there was a point in caring. That dragon had lied to him over and over again, prodded at his dreams, made him happy only to tear it away like a rotten scab. If anything, Roland knew he was better off hating him and leaving him in this chamber to rot.

Yet he felt bad anyway. Unfortunately for Wren, there was nothing that could be done.

Roland didn't waste another second, earholes beginning to flare over the beast's constant screaming. He jumped atop Fluffy after grabbing his helmet and satchel off the floor, squeezing into the space between the cheetah and the blue dragoness, and with a powerful leap, Fluffy took off. He shot like a star into the moonlit yonder, leaving the dead Guardian, the trembling ball of earth, and the lying teacher behind.

Everything was quiet. The panic had quelled, vanquished by his friends and Harper. The spire he'd been held captive inside faded with the rest of the district it'd been perched upon, the highest of them all.

The air was cold on Roland's scales; the burnt scraping of claws stung because of it, as did his bloodshot eyes. He relished in the air, however. He was beyond thankful to be out.

"Thanks..." Roland said lowly. "I... Thanks a lot, Ash. I-I don't really know what to say."

"Y-you don't have to say anything," she murmured back. "I'm just happy you're okay."

Roland sniffed, eyes wet once again. He looked down at the paws he had gripped around Fluffy's hair as a hold, then back to the foggy sky. Despite all odds, the blue dragoness had gone after him again and managed to find him. She'd risked her life once more to save him.

Roland lifted his front legs and wrapped them around the dragoness, making sure he didn't press too hard into the small spines lining her back. She tensed up. Holding her there consumed the grief and the trauma, ate it all away, left him feeling so much cleaner.

She'd go through hell, just for him, unconditionally. It was odd to be cared for like that. Roland didn't know if he deserved that much.

"R-Roland?" She looked back at him, expression a mixture of confusion, worry, and surprise. "Are you...?"

"Yeah," he muttered, pulling away from her. Warmth rushed to his face. He managed a short chuckle. "S-sorry. I just..."

"No. It's okay." She smiled, its faint outline infectious to the red dragon. His heart pumped in his chest. Something about her made him feel things he never thought he'd experience.

He would've said something about that feeling to her, but Harper was behind him right now. He'd rather not talk about it with other company.

"Oh, yeah..." Roland turned to face the cheetah. "What's up with you, Harper? Can you... explain everything?"

"It's a long–"

The cheetah's ears pricked up, snout twitching. Roland frowned at Harper, unable to understand why he'd so suddenly stopped. Harper looked down, but before Roland could follow his eyes, Fluffy bucked hard.

Roland and Ashlyn lost their grip on the dreadwing, and Harper held on by a thread of hair. Out of instinct, Roland started flapping his wings, bringing his mid-air rolling to a halt. His dreadwing was spiralling out of control, and right below him, form ablaze like the incarnation of a demon, was Warfang's Guardian of fire.

Roland was too stunned to make a choice; Brenton grabbed onto Roland with flaming paws. The red dragon cried out, scales brought to the boil in just the presence of the Guardian. Then, with a powerful dive, the Guardian charged into the nearest building in a searing comet dash.

Wood and stone smashed and splintered, the roof falling apart at the seams. Brenton hit the floor in an explosion of fire and rubble. Like a charred rag doll, Roland flew across the room. He hit the floor and tumbled.

When he smacked into the wall and opened his eyes, everything twisted in a vibrant swirl of orange and grey. He tried to get to his feet, wondering how he'd even survived, and tripped over his own footing when he stepped on a broken leg. He clutched his injuries – everything at once, everything that was burnt and his unusable leg – in an attempt to apply pressure, yet it only worsened the agony. He relied on adrenaline to keep him going. Roland gathered all of his resolve and limped forward.

His vision wanted to clear, but the smoke in the air made his tear ducts flow again. His heart stopped for a moment when he looked up. Fire tore through the ceiling's timber beams, sent debris and embers hurtling to the ground like an ashen hailstorm. Roland didn't waste another moment – he suppressed all the pain he could and just tried to leave it all behind.

"You're not getting away from me that easily."

Roland turned his head to see Brenton struggling through the flames himself, his fiery figure the cause. As he did, he noticed Fluffy and the others land through the hole, Harper with his gun raised, Ashlyn with her fangs bared. Fluffy's back hunched lower than usual. He gasped and snorted, thin lines of blood coagulating with the hair where Brenton had stabbed him with his horns in his reckless charge.

Harper pulled his trigger first, but the elementally charged bullet that shot forth wasn't enough, Brenton's fiery aura turning it to but a cinder. Ashlyn tried to unleash an icicle. Her ice melted almost as soon as it was created. Fluffy didn't look to be capable of a scream right now. Roland's friends weren't able to assist and, as the flaming roof collapsed around them, proved further incapable when they were cut off to the red dragon. He heard Ashlyn scream his name, but it was lost to the roaring fire.

As if Brenton were the spawn of hell itself, Roland backed off, through the doorway before his feet could catch alight. He spluttered on the smoke, the tears it summoned pricking at the corners of his eyes. Brenton advanced, his narrowed glare a gaze of pure, molten gold. Roland glanced around the room and tried to slow him down by pushing a nearby plywood table in front of him, but Brenton only crushed it beneath his fiery feet.

Roland's lungs compressed for air, but they only drew the smoke. He coughed again, trying his best to run from the infernal dragon on only three feet. He stumbled into a large circular hall, through rows and rows of chairs quickly bursting into flames.

"If I can't have you, then I'll destroy you," Brenton said. His voice seemed to distort, wavering like the flames he bred.

Roland scanned the great hall, chest thumping, lungs squeezing for the slightest amount of clean air. The stage was already on fire and the curtains of the windows charred and glowed with heat. Then he looked up, originally trying to find an escape, but found a chandelier instead hanging by a thread rope, untouched by the fire.

He had a plan. It was insane and there was almost no chance it would work. But he had one.

"P-please work..." he muttered to himself as he ran forward, stopping just before the stage. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and brought forth his magic, trying to ignore the crackling fire and the sweat dripping from his body.

He couldn't tell if the orange glow was there, the light of the fire breathing through his eyelids, yet he didn't need to. He felt the coldness in there, in stark contrast to the rest of his body, and pushed it all to his leg.

He'd failed last time because he forced it. This time, he had to relax. It was hard to do that when he couldn't breathe properly.

It crept up his leg, hovered around his claw tips, and that was when he knew he was ready. He opened his eyelids once again and stared into the golden gaze of the demon. When Brenton was beneath the chandelier, Roland gently pushed forward, focusing deeply on the Guardian's paws.

Almost akin to Wren's magic, orange crystals rose from the ground at his feet and trapped the fire Guardian. Brenton studied his paws, then looked back up at Roland, and seemed to almost go to laugh at him.

Roland wasn't focused on that, though. He brought forth the time mana again, up into his throat. He aimed for the rope holding the chandelier and fired a crystal straight towards it. It snapped, the crystal flying straight past it and shattering against the wall on the other side of the hall. The chandelier, unaffected by the time magic because the crystal didn't stay close or shatter against it, fell.

"You think your damn time magic is going to–"

Glass, metal, and fire went everywhere as it smashed into Brenton's skull. The fire Guardian stumbled over. Roland, eyes widening in opportunity, dashed forward when the flames around the stunned monster quelled, just like his conscious mind.

Do not hesitate.

Roland raised a paw and dug his claws into Brenton's neck. He ripped out his throat.

It's that easy.

Roland stepped back, looking over the wide-eyed Guardian in fear. Brenton grabbed onto his neck, almost tried to draw the red spurting from the fatal wound back into his throat. Of course, it was of no use.

Within a few moments, Brenton hunched over and died.

Roland looked at his paws, uncaring for the blaze. He peered down at his drenched foot, clenched it, felt and heard it squelch. He fell to his hindquarters, his breath held still, tears pouring down his face.

There was fear for a long while. Pain and hurt. But after just staring at the body, he calmed down. He'd ended the Guardian. He'd actually killed someone. The weird part was that he'd wanted to.

"...land! Roland!"

Roland sniffed, unable to tear his eyes away from the corpse. It wasn't like killing an animal. That'd become easy. Killing another person, though...

He didn't really know what to think. It'd happened so fast. It'd been a thoughtless action, almost as though it'd come from feral instinct alone. It was... different to Garv, though. It hadn't been like he hadn't desired too, nor was keeping Brenton alive ever his intention. It'd seemed like the right choice before he'd done it, but now he felt odd. Almost empty, despite the tears in his eyes. Emotionless. He still felt the adrenaline in his veins, but other than that, there was nothing.

What had Firemore done to him?

"Roland!" he heard Ashlyn cry again. He managed to peel his eyes away from Brenton. Ashlyn, flecked in soot, scoured the smoke and rubble in search of him. As her eyes met his, she gasped in relief, only to choke on the ashen air. She charged after him and he turned his gaze away. "Roland! Y-you're okay! Y-you're..."

She stopped right beside him, her maw pulled open. Roland looked up at her. He was unsure what to say or do, or if he even wanted to do anything.

"R-Roland..." She stretched a paw towards him, giving Brenton's lifeless body a sidelong glance. It landed softly on his side. Her eyes showed hurt, but not her own. For him. She knew quite clearly how he felt. "W-we... We need to go. This place is burning down. I-if we don't leave, we'll suffocate."

"Yeah," he replied, getting up. The flames roared around him, the ceiling creaking and cracking with each elapsing second. He'd be left to burn in this inferno with the monster if he stayed. That was reason enough to get a move on. "Let's go. Where are the others?"

"Outside," Ashlyn said. She pulled her head back and aimed for one of the thin glass windows. An icicle flew forth and smashed right through it. She leaped into the burning air, gesturing with a claw. "C-come on!"

Roland sighed, averting his eyes from the demon's bloodied corpse, and followed her through the window.

"Get aboard! We need to leave!" Alevor yelled.

Roland came to a halt with Ashlyn before the blacksmith. Fluffy and Harper were moments behind. They couldn't ride the beast because of his injuries and Roland had a broken leg, so they hadn't been able to move as swiftly as they would've liked. Not that it seemed to matter much. In spite of everyone's panic to get on the ship, it was actually peaceful at the docks. The only sound other than the calling of Myrtle and Tristana aboard the boat was the wavering sea, bubbling against the pier, and the creak of the ship in the water. There was nobody after them, or at least that they could tell. They'd steered clear of those cheetahs and the dragon guard.

Alevor jogged up to the ship, followed by the four that'd run from the high districts. He gripped a single-edged blade in his gloved hand and cut away at the ship's ropes, wound around wooden pillars nailed to the pier. Roland, with the help of Ashlyn, jumped aboard the ship, meeting with Myrtle and Tris who'd been awaiting them.

"Thank the fuckin' Ancestors you're okay," Myrtle said, placing a paw upon his shoulder. "I thought you were a goner."

"D-don't!" he cried back, a sharp pain stabbing through his leg when she placed it atop his shoulder. Quickly, she withdrew it, eyes meeting the twisted leg in worry. "S-sorry. Brenton broke my leg. I-it really hurts."

"Fuck, Roland..." Myrtle shook her head. "S-sorry..."

"We have spirit gems on board," Tris exclaimed, running to the captain's room where the wheel for steering lay. There was a mechanism inside there, a vibrating hunk of yellow metal attached to a pulling cable. Beside the whirring device was a small box of spirit gems. Roland wondered how Alevor had gotten spirit gems into a place like this, but from the looks of the permit on the wall, Alevor was allowed to have a limited supply to power his ship. Tris gathered the gemstones and rushed back to Roland.

The red dragon crushed them beneath his paw, felt his bone twist and mangle for an agonising moment, before the limb stitched itself back together. There was still a painful throb there and he wasn't going to walk on it, but it would heal up in due time.

For a moment, everything seemed like it was going well. Then, out of nowhere, like a pack of starved vultures, cloaked cheetahs leaped from the shadows and sprinted for their prey, the time dragon. Roland knew he'd jinxed himself and he hated himself for it.

Harper pulled his rifle from the holster beneath his green cloak and started trying to pick them off from a distance while Alevor rushed to the captain's quarters. When Roland heard a gunshot whizz by his head, he kept to the cover the captain's room provided from gunfire, and his friends followed his lead. Fluffy tried to let something out akin to a scream, but it came as more of a whimper than anything. Roland comfortingly rubbed a paw down his thick coat of hair.

"Don't worry. I'll fix you up soon."

The boat bucked when Alevor slammed his foot down on the accelerator, then took off, slicing through the moonlit sea, rushing into the fog. Like rain, gunfire battered the metal hull, all focused on where Roland lay, but the ship was far too sturdy for elementally-charged projectiles to cut through. Roland noticed Ashlyn trying to return fire with her icicles, although the point in that was lost as they got further and further away from the city of dragons.

Roland thought, for a single moment, that this chapter of their journey might've just finished. He felt they might be safe.

"Keep your eyes peeled!" Alevor called over the thrum of the engine. "We'll disappear into the fog, but I'll bet my hammer they'll find their own ships and chase after us!"

As the minutes passed, however, the signs of them were lost. Alevor eventually cut the engine off, letting the gale and the sea push their boat along, to keep their noise level to a minimum. Harper mounted his rifle atop the ship's railing, Myrtle stood close to Tristana, and Ashlyn slowly paced over to Roland, her muzzle quivering. Fluffy continued to murmur in pain, guilt stabbing at Roland's heart.

Roland's chest thumped. He half-expected the cheetahs to plough through the fog and slam into their ship, but it didn't seem to come.

Then he heard it. The hum of another engine, distant, nearly inaudible. He saw a beam of light through the mist, a predator searching for its prey. Roland kept a paw to his muzzle, hoping they didn't get closer. Fortunately, it seemed to pass right by them. His hopes were dashed when he heard another, but took form once more when the second disappeared past them as well.

Quiet, unsettling minutes ticked on. But, as quickly as the scouting ships soared straight past them, they disappeared and were never heard from again.

"I think... we're in the clear," Roland murmured to the blue dragoness.

Ashlyn gritted her teeth. "D-don't say that, Roland."

In spite of everything, he managed a smile at that one. Her light humour, even if she hadn't been trying to make a joke, always made him want to chuckle.

Harper rested his tense paws, letting out an almost relieved sigh. "I believe we are okay now."

"Let's hope..." Myrtle draped a wing over Tristana, seeing just how much she was quivering. "You okay, Tris?"

"Tonight's been... s-something else," the yellow dragoness said. "First the cheetahs throw us in a cell, then Harper, and now... a-all this."

The cheetah got up, his rifle still held firmly between his paws. He didn't dare put it away, for fear of the cloaked figures coming back. The sight of him there with a gun in paws sent images through Roland's head again, though, of the time in the Everlost Forest. Harper looked at Roland and pulled down the hood covering his eyes.

"I... ought to explain myself," Harper said. Tris looked up with eager eyes, like she didn't know much about his return, either. "What I did back in the forest... I wasn't thinking clearly. I put my own feelings above everything else, drunk myself almost to death, and then decided it was a good idea to pull a gun on Roland. I thought at that moment he was against the world and working with the purple dragon. Mostly because of the dreadwing."

Harper's grip around his weapon loosened. He let its barrel thud against the wooden floor of the ship. There was nothing Roland was expecting any less tonight than to hear an apology out of Harper's mouth.

"Clearly, I was incorrect. When I woke up, Darryl and Kaya spoke to me, and I realised you weren't bad to begin with. So, I sought out to set things right. I've been watching over all of you for four days now, and I was unsure how to approach you. The choice was obviously made for me tonight."

Harper stopped for a moment. Soon, he sighed once more. "If it means anything at all, I'm sorry. I... I know it doesn't. And if I'm being honest, you four, I don't want you to forgive me. I've made the wrong choices time and time again. I've been given far too many chances to better my behaviour, yet I was only ever concerned with myself. I barely even considered you a person, Tris. For that, I am scum. I'm no father."

Tris opened her mouth, but she didn't know what to say. Eventually, she just lowered her head and kept silent.

"My ways have been less than stellar," Harper said. "I was hoping you might let me help you, but after all of this, I don't expect you to. The things I've done..."

Roland knew, if anything, that he didn't want the cheetah helping them. He'd come in the nick of time to save him and was protecting them for now, but there was no way in hell he could ever trust him again.

Roland didn't know if he could start trusting another person again. He'd been wronged so many times now. First Ashlyn (whom he had forgiven with time), then Harper, and then Wren...

It was all too much. He'd gone through enough for dozens of lifetimes.

When Roland looked around him, everybody seemed just as wary as him, especially the green dragoness. Even Tristana had that look of scepticism about her, though relentlessly mixed with the expression of realisation and confusion.

"Harper," Ashlyn started, "I... I-I'm sorry, but I think I speak for us all when I say you've done too much. Y-you shot Roland... He could've died and was about to when we got him back. I never would've... If anything had happened to him..."

Myrtle nodded. Tristana stayed silent. Even Fluffy stopped whimpering to listen. Alevor seemed ignorant of the conversation, more focused on steering the boat slowly through the fog.

"If Roland had died, I doubt I'd even be here," Myrtle kept Ashlyn's train of thought going. Roland's heart sank. She hadn't really just said that, had she? Was he worth her life? "He's a big part of what's kept me goin'. You almost took that from me. And you almost took me with him, too."

In spite of his previous words, Harper wore his hurt, however subtle it was, the small flicker of hope inside him dying. "Understandable."

"Harper..." Tris muttered. Harper raised his head to meet her eyes. "Look, I... I still love you, okay? You're still my dad. Don't say you aren't a father. You've just... done the wrong thing. You can still do better."

"I don't want you to consider me as such," he replied, averting his golden orbs. "You... You have a real family now. A family of friends that love you, that have done better than I ever have. Be proud of them and yourself. I'm not worthy of the 'dad' title..."

Harper sat back down again, pushing his knees against his chest, his back to the railing.

"I couldn't save my wife. I couldn't save my damn son. And when you were all I had left, I pushed you away and didn't treat you like a daughter. You meant a lot to me, but in the wrong way." Harper folded his arms and placed them atop his bent knees. He pushed his forehead against them. "Maybe I can do better in the future, but I know I can't be forgiven. I've ruined all the chances the Ancestors have given me."

Tris closed her mouth, her eyes settling on the planks. Harper sighed, looking at her once more. When Roland looked at him closely, he thought he could see the elusive shine of tears in his eyes.

"It's... It doesn't matter, really." Harper shrugged. "I might've come to set things right, but I also wanted to apologise to you, Tris. For everything I've done. I just... just want you to know that I'm really happy for you. I'm proud of you."

Roland didn't really know what to think about him anymore. He looked over at Tris, waiting for some kind of reaction, but she only huddled up with Myrtle, kept her glimmering eyes closed. Harper had been genuine, Roland could tell, but he didn't know if he could ever forgive the cheetah.

Maybe if he gave it time, like the time he'd given Ashlyn.

Suddenly, the boat lurched and everyone fell forward. Wood exploded into splinters, a missile made of green magic having slammed into the deck. Roland, bewildered by the attack out of nowhere, scanned the skies, searching for their predator.

Following them was the Guardian of earth, green embers spiralling around her like she was a living tornado. Her eyes were set in a hateful glare, her bared teeth like daggers. She radiated hate.

Like she'd missed before, another earthen projectile flew out of her maw, bigger and faster, and headed straight for the cheetah that had killed her mate. Harper's opportunity to dodge never came, his focus set on keeping his balance. It smashed straight through his chest.

Without so much as a grunt, Harper collided with the wall of the ship and slumped over, his heart decimated in no more than an instant

Tristana broke free of Myrtle's grip and screamed his name, but the noise never fully reached Roland's ears, for yet another projectile struck the deck in an explosion of timber. Roland was too busy staring at the cheetah's corpse to notice the blast of earth heading straight for him.

Ashlyn, like all those times, saved him yet again by diving into him and rolling with him across the ship. Roland was too stunned to even notice she'd done that and almost too confused to notice the thrum of the engine. They blasted forth at top speed again, the earth dragoness in hot pursuit.

She was going to kill them all. Roland stared at her, wide-eyed, then back at Harper's body. Tristana tried to shake him, like she was trying to wake him up, but there was nothing left of his soul. A large, gaping hole had been punched right through his chest, the metal armour beneath the cloak having not been enough to save him from the wrath of the furious Guardian.

There were sparks dancing along Tristana's body.

There came yet another projectile, but this time Myrtle struck it out of the air with a well-timed blast of earth magic. Roland wasn't sure what to do. He just held onto Ashlyn, hoping everything would turn out okay, feeling sick and confused.

Then a sobbing Tristana got up and turned to face their aggressor. Electricity arced along her form, humming, jolting, zapping each other. She paced to the edge of the boat. She drew her heard back, closed her eyes.

As she pushed it forward again, she screamed into the air. A bolt of uncontrollable lightning exploded from her mouth, a pure white arcing mass of power.

It totally missed the target. The Guardian of earth dodged it with ease. But Roland soon realised he was far too quick to judge. Like she'd summoned a storm itself, twin bolts of electricity struck the Guardian from above with a clap of thunder.

And the fury didn't stop there. Tristana held her paw out, entire body twitching in her rage, and kept the lightning centred on her. Trevena wailed as she went up in blue flames. The blinding flash made Roland jerk his head away.

Only a couple moments later, Trevena's flesh and bone melted and turned to nothing but ash. Tristana cut the magic off when she knew she'd done it. Smoke plumed from her scales. She gasped for air, every last bit of her power drained on the Guardian.

Roland didn't know how to comprehend what he'd just witnessed. Like one of her bolts of lightning, it'd happened in a flash.

Tristana's legs buckled and she buried her face deep into her paws. Her whole body shook with her wailing. Myrtle was swift to approach, even with how visibly bewildered she was. Alevor looked back at everyone, panting and hacking on dust particles. Roland first peered at Ashlyn, who didn't know what to do, then at Fluffy, who'd been cowering in the captain's quarters all this time.

The engine shut off. Roland gave a sideways glance to Harper's body, then approached the yellow dragoness with Ashlyn, Alevor, and even the dreadwing. They sat down with her and did whatever they could to help her, but there wasn't exactly much they could do. Even Myrtle's hug wasn't enough to calm her.

But it was all they could do. She'd killed someone, just like Roland had. And she'd lost a father tonight.

Life was cruel and, if any night proved that, this was the one.