Flying Fox II

The mood following the second Council meeting was... dour, to say the least. I don't think any of us had ever felt such dread and fear before. The Nightwings were coming, and they were sending their Royal Guard to fight. The absolute best of the best of a Tribe of psychics. Rumor had it they'd never been beaten in combat, and had been shaping the history of Phyrria for thousands of years.

And yet we Rainwings, with our ONE MONTH of real training and untested weapons, were going to try and stop them from burning us all to a crisp?

...Yeah, we weren't feeling too keen about our odds.

Still, it wasn't all bad. We had spent the last few weeks boobytrapping the shit out of the jungle, under Xero's orders. If you weren't a Rainwing and didn't know the paths, you were guaranteed to fall into some awful net or snare. We also knew where they were coming from - an animus-created portal, built into the side of a large tree next to a waterfall. Xero and the Council believed that if we surrounded the portal with every dragon we had that could fight, we could use the bottleneck and our numbers to overwhelm them.

On paper, it seemed like a perfect plan, and against any other tribe, it would've seemed obvious we would've crushed them. But this wasn't just any tribe, and as we left that meeting, I saw the fear and dread in every dragon's eyes. For most of us, myself included, this would be our first taste of war. And it also meant that there was a good chance at least some of us were going to die in a few days. I could be dead in a few days. Facing my own mortality, I realized there were still things I wanted to do, things that I needed to say.

I had to make use of the time I still had...

"...Mmmm, damn, Fox," Gecko grunted, as we woke up cuddling together, "That was incredible. Like, literally, maybe the best I've ever had."

"I always aim to please, love." I chuckled, giving him a little kiss. "You were damn good yourself."

He smiled, stretching himself out against me. At first glance, he wouldn't have exactly fit the bill of my "type". He was on the smaller side - not quite Sparkling small, but smaller than me, even smaller than Fruit Bat. Not really muscular or athletic, his frame was thin and graceful, with delicate little talons that never had dirt or grime on them. Most of my previous partners were pretty experienced with romance, but the little guy hadn't even really dated before we met.

But what drew me to Gecko, more than anything else, was his musical talent. He has this voice that's just so captivating, so beautiful, every band in the Rainforest wanted to have him perform with them. He had a talent with drums and the lyre, and an even greater talent at poetry. We Rainwings don't really produce a lot, but we appreciate music and dance as the greatest of art forms, and there's nothing that makes someone more sexy in our eyes than a singer.

I first met him on Grandeur's hatchingday, when he, a scrawny 19-year-old, sang a poem in her honor. Grandy and I were no longer romantically involved, but I swear by the Spirits I wasn't trying to rebound with him. I just thought he was a cool, interesting dude, and I wanted to hang out with a guy who had an amazing talent. So I invited him over to my place, trying out a few drinks I made (I worked as a bartender back then) and spent evening after evening just talking about stuff. What I hadn't counted on was how quickly we bonded and connected with one another. One dinner date became another, and another, and under the light of two full moons, we confessed to a mutual attraction and found comfort in each other's arms and hearts.

That was... shit, five, seven years before Xero came? On the eve of battle, it felt like we wasted so much time. I don't hate all the days and nights of fun - the poems and songs written, the recipes created, all the days and nights getting frisky or even just lounging about in our treehouse. But there were so many things I wanted to do, things I wanted to see and experience.

I wasn't ready to go.

The thought hung over my head through most of the day, every time I looked at him. He must've noticed me looking, because as I started putting on my army gear, he saddled up to me and teased, "Don't worry, there's more where that came from when you come back."

I smiled, though my heart wasn't in it. When you come back. That was the big question, wasn't it? Would I be coming back? Would any of us? The Rainwings hadn't gone to war in a generation, and the Mudwings weren't as feared or fearsome as the Nightwings. I wanted to believe that we could beat them with our 10-to-1 numbers, our crossbows, our home advantage. But even if we won, how many of us were going to die so that we could remain free? What would we become after this war?

Gecko - again, ever the perceptive one - noticed my expression, and frowned. "Did you talk to Grandeur yet?"

I winced. "...Noo," I admitted, "But I-"

"Oh for Spirits' sake!" He growled, flapping his wings irritably. "It's been a month, Fox! Why do you keep pussyfooting around it? What's so hard about asking her if she wants to get back with you?"

"Dude, I've tried." I explained. "But we're always busy now. She's off training soldiers, I'm with Xero teaching him Rainwing stuff, and we haven't been able to talk to each other without him around."

"So?"

"Grandeur's..." I struggled to find the words. "She's different whenever he's around. Remember how she used to be when she was Queen? How she was all stoic and proper and working all the time? It's like that, but double! It's almost like she's trying to be his... fuck, help me out, what's the name of the guy who helps queens run things?"

"A chamberlain?"

"Yeah, something like that. A super-secretary and advisor rolled into one."

"What, you think she might be taking a shine to him?"

I snorted, shaking my head. "Nah, he's definitely not her type, trust me. And anyways, any time I'm about to talk about me and her and our past, she gives me the death glare. Every time I've thought about asking her, she checks to see if he's nearby, and she'll shoot me that 'We'll talk about this later' look, even though we never have a later." My scales were turning orange on me. I don't want to say this act was hurting me, but it was frustrating that my oldest friend was playing this game. Couldn't she trust me enough to tell me what was bothering her? I've kept secrets for her before, how was this any different?

A green paw touched my shoulder, and my orange scales returned to their natural blue. "You know what you should do, then?" He suggested. "While you're out there with her and no Xero around, you should go talk to her when you get the chance. This might be the best time to air out any issues and tensions you two still have. Can you do that for me?"

I took his paw, giving it a little squeeze. "I can," I told him, "And I will. I promise."

"And promise..." His voice cracked. He was smiling, but his glistening eyes betrayed his true feelings. "...Promise me you'll come back, okay? I don't, I don't know what I'd do if anything-"

"Don't start crying on me now, love." I said, calmly stroking his neck. "If you start going then I'm gonna start, and I'm gonna be a big ole' mess for the troops. Can't have that, now can we?" We both laughed at that, and Gecko wiped at his eyes. I rested my forehead against his, pulling him into a hug as our scales turned rose.

"I will come back," I promised, "No matter what it takes. There's no force in Phyrria that can keep me away from you or Grandy or our home. I love you."

"I love you too, Foxy."

We kissed and hugged each other, holding onto each other and the moment as long as we could. Then I donned my helmet and flew off, praying to every Spirit and god I could think of that this wasn't the last time I'd see him...

So as we flew above the jungle to the portal, I had a mantra repeating over and over in my head. Talk to Grandy. Stop the Nightwings. Don't die. Talk to Grandy. Stop the Nightwings. Don't die. You youngbloods might give me shit now, but the last time we had to go and fight another Tribe, Grandy and I were still dragonets. I might've been a soldier when I wasn't a bartender, but I'd never been in a fight before, let alone killed a dragon. I was always up for helping my friends, but taking a life? It made my stomach feel like it ate a rotten dragonfruit.

The flight didn't take long, maybe the smaller part of an afternoon. Sure enough, the portals were just where they were reported - one by a small pond, and one way up in a large tree. They felt odd, somehow. Cold. Unnatural. Like they weren't supposed to be here and subconsciously your mind wanted to get away. We had plenty of daylight left, so Grandy and Majestic ordered us to start setting up traps all around the clearing. If we managed to somehow spook and surprise the black dragons, we had to make sure none of them got away and tell Battlewinner or the Army of what happened. If this was going to work (and that was a damn big IF), we'd have to strike them so hard and so fast that there'd be no escape.

With scouts watching the portals and nightfall a few hours away, the tension among the troops was thicker than any storm cloud. These dragons weren't killers; hell, most of them hadn't even hunted or even had meat in years. Many were nervous, jittery, their scales turning a fearful pale green or white. I saw more than one recruit puking their guts out in nearby bushes.

With the thoughts of our impending doom weighing on us, I desperately needed something to distract myself with.

"Grandeur," I said, approaching her after she finished giving orders to a recently promoted sergeant, "We need to talk."

"Can it wait?" She replied, as the dragoness left us. "We've still got to-"

"No." I insisted, using my serious tone. "This has waited long enough."

She looked at me, eyebrows raised, scales a turning emerald along the edges. I don't use my serious all that often (I'm not much of a serious dragon), so she knows that when I bring it out, I mean it, and I'm not going to back down from it. She considered me for a moment or two, then nodded, gesturing for us to go just outside the clearing for some privacy.

"Grandy," I started, getting right to the point, "What's the deal between you and Xerophilous? You've been acting weird around me ever since he showed up. You're not attracted to him, are you?"

She just stared at me, purple scales turning emerald with surprise. Then those scales turned yellow, and she laughed. Three Moons, I love her laugh - it's so genuine and sweet, like a deep-voiced kookaburra. I wish she did it more.

When she could breathe again, she said, "Oh Spirits, no! Xero's definitely not my type. Too big, too young, too inexperienced for my taste. "

"So then what's with the whole act?" I demanded. "It's like you don't want him to know that we used to date or something. Do I embarrass you?"

"No, of course not!" She hissed, trying to keep her voice down. She looked aside, her scales turning dark blue and dark gray. "If anything, I'm more embarrassed with myself."

"What do you mean?"

Grandy sighed. "Foxy, Xerophilous comes to me when he wants advice for being a king. He goes to you when he wants dating advice. But the reason he got to become king, the reason I stopped being Queen, is because of how utterly I screwed up my love life. How would he react if he knew that his playdrake best friend was the best partner I had, and leaving you was the greatest mistake I ever made?" She frowned, her wings drooping, her lavender scales turning a deeper blue.

I took her paw in mine, smiling comfortingly. "That wasn't your fault," I assured her, "Not all of it. We were both young and dumb back then. Neither of us were really serious about a relationship, and I was definitely not ready to be a parent. My biggest mistake was letting you go." Grandeur would never admit it, but we were both wild dragons before she took the throne. We were both very close, but more in a "friends with benefits" kind of way. Those mornings where I woke up sore yet satisfied, cuddling up with a bunch of different dragons? Many of those were spent with her, as Royals often had as many lovers as they could want, and I (being her best friend) got just as many hookups as she did.

She sighed, smiling sadly. "You would've been a great dad," She said, stroking my talons, "Certainly better than any of those other brainless oafs or golddiggers that I slept with. It's no wonder my daughters were such disappointments, when they came from awful sires."

An old worry came over me. "Were... were any of them mine?" I asked.

Grandeur flashed dark blue, as she thought about it. "...Victory might've been," She admitted, "The timeline matches up, and she was the smartest and strongest out of all of mine. Would've made a great Queen, too, if she hand't gone off to become an artist. I just hope she's happy off in The Tail, drawing those beach paintings like she always wanted."

My heart warmed at the thought. Victory really was something special - a beautiful young dragoness, with tons of skill with paints and a brush. She did have those bright pink scale-ridges around the eyes, were those from me? If she was my daughter...

Focus, Fox, I reminded myself, Remember what you have to tell her.

"Look, Grandy," I explained, "Gecko and I have been worried about you. We've been talking for awhile, and... if it's something you want, we'd be more than happy to have you join us."

Grandeur blinked, turning emerald. "But I thought Gecko didn't like girls." She said, confused.

"I think he's willing to make an exception for you." I shrugged. "He thought we used to make a cute couple."

"We were a cute couple?" She scoffed. "Spirits, now I do feel old." She stepped back, looking at the clearing, the busy soldiers, the reddening sky. "When we get back to the Village," She decided, "I'll think about it. But right now, we just have to focus on making it through the night."

"Hey, you watch my back, and I'll watch yours," I assured her, brushing her wing with mine, "Just like it's always been."

"Just like always." Grandy agreed, flashing yellow before we returned to the troops. The knot in my stomach didn't completely disappear, but it shrank down enough for me to focus myself and prepare.

With the traps all set and our weapons at the ready, we climbed up the trees, hid ourselves among the leaves, and waited. Hours passed. The blue sky above started turning orange, then red, then hints of purple. Majestic, Grandeur and I were scattered across the trees above the path, our eyes fixed on the tree-portal. Finally, as the stars started poking through the night sky, they came. Scouts gave the call, as the first Nightwings started hopping out. Crossbows at the ready, we held our position as they trickled out, marching in single-file down the forest path. I have to believe they were so cocky that, since our Village was hidden from the sky, they could just walk into our homes and beat us without needing any extra surprise or stealth. We waited until the very last dragon hopped out, shoving out a rather irate-looking Sandwing.

Once they were several dozen dragon-lengths out, the signal was given. Across the path, I heard Majestic give the call of a bird of paradise. Ready, Aim. We raised our 'bows, as they passed underneath us. I glanced at the branch next to me, and I spotted Grandy's eyes floating in the air. I gave her a nod, and she nodded back. Let's go.

"ATTACK!" She roared.

Several things happened at once.

Every Rainwing fired down at the long line of Nightwings, hundreds and hundreds of arrows and darts raining down upon them like an unforgiving rainstorm.

The Nightwings, suddenly under attack, start panicking and vainly try to retaliate. Some roar and swear in surprise. Some try to fly away, only to get tranqed or shot and fall back down. And some breathed fire, torching bushes and trees as they tried to strike back at us.

One such Nightwing happened to be right beneath Grandy and I, a pillar of fire shooting right up between us. I reared back from the fire, and I lost my balance. I fell, making a totally-dignified squawking noise, trying and failing to catch the branch with my tail. As I fell, all I could think was, This'll be a dumb way to die.

But as you probably figured out, I didn't actually die that night. Almost wish I did, though, because what happened next was so ridiculous. There was a brief moment when I felt something long, hard and pointy graze the space between my tail and my vent, before I slammed down on something hard and flat. The next thing I knew, I felt a jolt of pain in my back paw, as I landed awkwardly in the mud and something solid. I rolled off, howling in pain, clutching at my leg. I fell in the mud, dirt and goop covering my scales as they turned white with pain.

Around me, Nightwings were dropping left and right. Many had darts sticking out of their sides, their necks, their tails. Others had multiple arrows stuck in them, and they howled and roared in pain as they bled into the dirt. Many of them tried to flee back the way they came, right into the path of the RFCs and a storm of arrows raining upon them. It was a complete rout.

Unfortunately, I wouldn't have much time to appreciate the moment. Behind me, the Nightwing got back up, covered in mud and looking very, VERY pissed. A more battle-hardened soldier might've opened fire with his crossbow in his paws, or spit acidic venom in their eyes, or snap their neck with his tail. I, being a total alpha and not some panic-stricken wienie, chose the best option: Yelp in surprise, and swing my crossbow right into the dragon's face. The dragon grunted and fell, clutching at his face. Still not thinking, I whacked his head a second time (remember boys and girls: When in doubt, double-tap!). He groaned and fell still, a thin trickle of blood leaking from his brow, but as I went over to check, I knew he'd live.

As I caught my breath and looked around, the battle had already ended. All around me, my friends and neighbors came out of camouflage and down from the trees. Nightwings laid scattered about, drugged unconscious or moaning in pain, utterly defeated. The Rainwings, being a kind and well-meaning people, immediately started providing medical treatment to the injured, even as the unconscious were getting bound with ropes and vines.

I started to get up, only for my backfoot to give out on me. Strong tails caught me. Grandeur and Majestic were on either side, propping me up as they called over a medic.

"Watch it, Fox," Majestic cautioned, "You took a hard fall out of that tree. You might've busted your ankle."

"Why am I not surprised?" Grandy chuckled, "You always have to be the center of attention, don't you? Out of all the dragons in the jungle, you're the only Rainwing to get injured!"

"Wasn't my call." I grunted, leaning against Grandy. "Did we win?"

"Yeah," Majestic sighed, "We won, alright. Kind of a shame, though. I thought the Nightwings would put up more of a fight. It hasn't even been a full minute."

"Congratulations are in order for you and Xero. You've achieved the greatest victory in Rainwing History, maybe even all of Phyrrian History. I think celebrations are in order."

Majestic smiled, her frill turning pink (no doubt at the thought of how - and more importantly, who - she wanted to celebrate with). "Oh, I couldn't agree more," She murmured, as we made it over to some nearby medic. "Spirits know Batty and I have a lot to talk about."

"You're not the only one." Grandy agreed, offering me the barest hint of a smile. Leaning into my ear, she whispered, "Do you want me to talk to Gecko before or after you get your Hero's Welcome?"

Thank the Spirits my ankle chose to flare up right then, or everyone would've seen me turn the same shade as the inside of a grapefruit...