Happy Friday everyone! This chapter, Leo regrets absolutely everything and an evacuation in performed.

102. Blaze of Glory

Leo couldn't breathe.

Tyrian sat too close behind him with his tail curled around his waist, the point of the stinger resting almost casually against his back. Every downsweep of the pit dragon jostled them slightly, and he was faint with the fear that it would prick him by accident.

The new hatchling perched just in front of him. Watching him. Sweat beaded on Leo's forehead as he tried to look anywhere else except the ghost of the dragon his Savannah had died for.

"Here we are," Tyrian said cheerfully. His tail flexed, and Leo almost screamed.

Beneath them the harbor glistened in the fading sunlight, as the boats bobbed up and down. Almost pleasant, until he realized that the waves that jostled them came from a trio of River Dragons that paced back and forth beyond the metal grate. One tried to climb it, but its webbed feet were all wrong for climbing and it soon splashed back into the water.

"The gate is there." Leo's finger shook as he pointed. "And the locks are there, and there. It should open if you break them both." The original design had meant for it to open upwards, so that gravity would keep it shut even if the locking mechanism failed—but that would have meant it was always visible so long as it was open. A constant reminder that such defenses were necessary, which would only draw more Grimm. Leo had disagreed with the decision... but there was no changing it now.

Ozone took off with a Dust bomb held by a rope in her jaws. Leo squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see it happen, not when—

"Halt!"

His eyes snapped open. There were other dragons converging on them. He recognized Salty and Quake instantly, and it only took a moment more to place Tempest. The fire dragon was unfamiliar, but the voice of his rider was not.

"G-glynda!" He swallowed again. The stinger was still pressing against his back, and he didn't dare move. "I—that is—"

Ozone dropped the bomb. It went off in a blinding flash and a wave of heat that reached them even where they hovered, a hundred feet above the water. The Grimm hissed and thrashed in the water, sending churning waves crashing against the pier.

Leo wiped sweat off his face and whimpered, "I t-told you where to find it. Now would you please let me—"

"What the fuck, Leo?!" Qrow shouted.

Tyrian's tail tightened around him, and he let out a burst of laughter. "Let you go?" he asked, between giggles. "Oh, Leo. Such a poor choice of words."

He didn't even have time to scream before Tyrian flung him from the saddle. Leo spun in midair once, twice, each time catching a closer view of the frenzied River Dragons. One pressed itself against the grate directly below him, opening its mouth wide.

A lurch. Leo yelped and thrashed as claws closed around his arms. They vanished an instant later. He hit the water headfirst and flailed for a horrible moment, unsure which direction was up. Then his head broke the surface and he sputtered and gasped. He was going to drown, the River dragons were going to—

His arm struck something solid. It turned out to be a wooden post, part of the pier that jutted out into the water. Leo clung to it, gasping, until he could finally muster the strength to haul himself up out of the sea. He lay soaked and panting on his back, with claw-marks in his jacket and a tiny hole in the back of his coat.

He needed to go. He needed to run, now. The Grimm were coming, and the harbor wouldn't stay safe for long.

Tyrian had been right—his courage had died with Savannah.

Four against two, and one of the enemy was barely out of the shell. It should have been easy. And would have been, if three other dragons hadn't joined the fight on their side.

Tempest dove to catch Ozone between her forepaws before she could grab another bomb. She kicked and struggled, sparking every time her horns touched one of the older dragon's scales. It hurt, but she could hold her steady. The pit dragon, Diver if she remembered right, was skin and bones. He wouldn't last long.

Then the Council dragons joined in, and things got a lot more complicated.

They looked like they might be part of a team—every element except water was represented, and the dragons called out to each other with the familiarity of siblings. One, the fire dragon, swept towards Tempest.

"I have a shot!" the rider shouted.

"Hold!" their leader called back. "The wind dragon's with Ironwood, leave it alone."

"Shit, really? Where's the rider?"

Tempest hissed at him and held Ozone against her belly, where the Council riders couldn't try to shoot at her.

Diver wobbled in midair. Quake and York paced him, though more to guide him to a safe landing than anything else. He wouldn't let them help—he kept snapping at them and trying to climb higher, up until something in his left wing failed. It went limp, and the wind folded it flat against his body.

York grabbed his saddle, then flinched and dropped him when the faunus on his back tried to sting him. "Hey!" he yelped. "I'm trying to help you!"

Quake managed to get a hold of Diver's tail. He swung upside-down, his good wing still fluttering feebly. They dropped together towards the pier—and the hovering Council dragons.

"We've got it under control!" Qrow roared, waving at the riders. "Go deal with the Grimm!"

"The fuck's wrong with it?" their leader shouted back.

Diver hit the pier and collapsed onto his belly. When he tried to struggle to his feet, he lurched and started retching. A jet of water hit the pier and smashed a hole in the middle of it.

"No idea!" Qrow and Salty flew in between the Council and the pit dragon. "But it's not putting up much of a fight!"

It was true. Diver could hardly even lift his head. The lead rider glanced at him, then the still-struggling Ozone, and shrugged. "If you say so. There's a couple other dragons at large—let us know if you see 'em."

"Sure thing!" Qrow saluted at them, and held that position until they'd all turned around and headed in the other direction. Then he gestured rudely at their backs and guided Salty down to the pier.

Tempest grabbed Ozone by the back of her neck and held her in her mouth. She tasted oddly metallic, in a way that made her worry that she'd accidentally drawn blood. When she landed beside the pit dragon, the faunus was nearly frothing at the mouth.

"Get up!" he screamed. "Get up and kill them!"

Ozone squealed and renewed her struggles. Tempest had to pin her down against the pier to keep her from hurting herself—it reminded her unpleasantly of the pit dragons.

"You need to calm down and come with us," Glynda snapped. "Now. We can't promise your hybrid will stay safe if she's still here when the Grimm are repelled."

"Safe?!" He lunged at York, making him snort in alarm and rise up onto his hind legs. "Oh, yes. Safe!" He started to laugh. "That's good!"

"We can protect her," Tai added. "Her and the pit dragon. We're taking them back to Atlas to get them taken care of."

"Unless you want to get them both culled, and give the Council those things." Qrow gestured at the helmet.

"They'll die!" the man snarled. "They'll all die! I'll have her reborn as many times as I have to until we put those bastards in the ground!"

"...What?" Tai twisted in his saddle to look at Qrow. "What's he talking about?"

Glynda pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just... see if Salty can knock him out without getting too close."

Ozone wriggled in Tempest's grip and howled when the jet of water struck her rider. "It's alright," she promised the little hatchling. "He'll be fine, we just need to carry Diver away from here."

She handed Ozone off to Quake, so that she, Salty, and York could try to lift Diver off the ground. He was still trying to attack them—he bit Salty's foreleg, but it was so weak it didn't even leave a mark. Tempest hooked her claws into his saddle and pressed her nose against his shoulder. "It's almost over," she promised. "We've got you."

They weren't going to make it. "Go!" Ruby shouted, waving frantically at the rest of her team. "Go ahead, we'll catch up!"

Storm's paws pounded against the street. They were armored all the way down to her toes—metal scraped and sparked whenever she hit a piece of rubble. And overhead, Cinder descended towards the Council headquarters. Even flying, there was no way the others would make it there before she did.

Or so she thought—until another dragon burst out from behind a nearby building and let out a bellow that almost knocked her off of Storm. Strike swerved hard to the side, just dodging Ragnar's outstretched claws. He roared again. When he launched himself at Cinder, Glacier emerged from behind him like a pale shadow.

Ruby didn't see much of what followed. The Council headquarters blocked her view of the sky, and she was too busy finding the hole her teammates had torn in the side of the building. Fang trotted out as she approached, surrounded by rumpled and trembling workers. Yang had dismounted—it was probably too tight in there for a dragon and a rider.

"P-please," one of the workers blurted. "I'm just an intern, I swear! The Council aren't even here, they left with a bunch of flight squads."

Yang opened her mouth to respond, but before she had the chance someone shouted, "Hey!"

Two dragons approached. Both had riders carrying whips, and the one in the lead pointed hers at Yang. "Stop right there! If you think we're going to let you—"

Specter emerged from the hole. There was a small child dangling by a backpack from his mouth, who he set gently on the ground beside Weiss. Then he looked over at the newcomers and barked once. Their dragons relaxed.

"We're trying to help," Ruby said. "This place isn't safe."

"Our orders were to make sure the building remains secure, and to keep everyone inside. Where there aren't Grimm everywhere," the Council rider snapped.

Somewhere above them, Strike let out an ear-piercing scream. A burst of flame struck a nearby building, shattering the windows and raining glass down on the street.

There was a long, horrified silence. Weiss broke it. "That was Cinder Fall. She thinks the Council are in this building. Do we really need to explain why it isn't a good idea to keep people here?"

The two Council riders exchanged a terrified glance. Then the leader urged her dragon into the building. "How many are still inside?"

"Nobody on the bottom floor," Yang said. "Our teammate is going up to the top, to let everyone know they should evacuate."

Ruby bit her lip. "Someone should tell her the Council are gone. That way she won't attack, right?"

"Maybe not." Weiss glanced up. "It's worth a try."

She and Specter took off. A moment later, Blake emerged from the building with more of the office workers. They were coming out now in a steady stream that Pit had to pick his way through.

Ruby waved Blake and Yang over. "Yang, can you go in and look for anyone we missed? Blake and I will stay outside, in case the Grimm start getting ideas."

Her sister nodded and jogged off, with Fang loping alongside her. One of the Council riders followed, though he left his dragon outside. "Guard," he said, and gestured at the people milling around. Then he, too, vanished inside the building.

The air was boiling.

Strike didn't even need to breathe fire—just the sight of her rider heated Ragnar's insides until they churned thick and hot like molten lead. He felt like a balloon, expanding in the heat until something ruptured and he opened his jaws and all the grief and hate came pouring out.

The hands on his back felt very distant and small, but they were enough. An anchor that kept him from charging in and grabbing Strike, and tearing and tearing no matter how much she hurt him until he could get at Cinder. Because if he did that, she would hurt Oscar.

She lunged. Fire swept under his belly and hit a nearby building, shattering the top floor and sending up a plume of smoke. Glacier dove at her. It was a clumsy maneuver that she dodged easily, and Ragnar had to charge in to keep her from sinking her teeth in to the ice dragon's throat. He slashed at her side, but he didn't even connect with her scales—she was wearing some kind of leather armor, almost like their riders did.

Ragnar retreated from Strike and grappled Glacier for a heartbeat, long enough to murmur, "Stay back and use your powers."

Then he kicked off, just in time to push them both out of the way of another jet of fire. Glacier seemed to take the advice to heart. He took care to keep out of range of the worst of the fire and left clouds of deadly mist for Strike to dodge. The weight of the armor made her clumsy—Ragnar couldn't understand what Cinder had been thinking when she put it on.

A shout interrupted them. Specter was approaching from the ground, coming within Strike's range. "Back!" Ragnar roared, too late.

"They're not there!" Weiss shouted. "The Council left! It's just office workers down there!"

Cinder's face twisted into a snarl. "Liar," Strike hissed, and launched a fireball.

Ragnar lunged forward to intercept it, but there was no need—Specter folded his wings and dropped out of the way, then caught himself a few dozen feet above the ground. Strike couldn't try again. Glacier pounced on her, with icy mist flowing out of his nostrils like trails of steam. Frost spread over the leather that covered her belly and sides.

"Go," Ragnar ordered Specter. "Your team needs you."

He didn't argue—the tip of his tail looked slightly singed.

Another shot of fire went wide. It had been aimed at Glacier, and it left Strike vulnerable from below. Ragnar swept in and collided with her, clawing at his shoulder to get a better grip. He slashed through a strap. The leather protecting her side came loose, revealing rows upon rows of metal canisters.

Cinder so close he could see her lip curl. "They'll pay. One way or another."

"They're not—" Oscar blurted. But Cinder wasn't listening. Strike wrenched free of Ragnar's grip, leaving great gouges in her sides, and folded her wings. She dove straight down, heedless of the cloud of mist Glacier breathed into her path. Then she slammed into the Council headquarters. The roof collapsed inwards. A heartbeat of stillness—and then, there was fire.

Heat rolled over Pit like a gust of desert wind. He heard rocks and bits of glass pinging against metal, and when he opened his eyes he saw that Storm had raised her good wing, sheltering the workers under her armor.

The building was gone. Smoke poured from the place where it had been. His stomach dropped.

"Fang!" Storm charged into the rubble. Pit darted after her, spreading out and looking wildly around. He could hardly see through the dark haze.

Then there was a chirp, and Penny announced, "Life signs detected!"

Storm sprinted over to one of the few walls that was still standing, half-buried in rubble. "Pit—"

"On it!" His freckles shone as he batted rocks aside, digging down until he hit a familiar red hide. He flinched when he touched his brother's side—his scales were hot to the touch, and streaked with soot so that they looked almost grey.

Storm and Specter helped dig, until they could finally see the steady heaving of Fang's breath. As soon as his wing was free, he lifted it to reveal a patch of ground untouched by the fire, a small crowd of office workers, and Yang.

Ruby jumped on her. She let out a little huff on impact as the wind was knocked out of her, but returned the hug.

"I'm okay," Yang wheezed, patting Fang's nose. Then she winced. "Gah, hot!"

Pit slumped with relief, and even nuzzled Fang's side. It was worth the minor burn on his nose. A head poked in between Specter and Storm, rumbling in concern.

"Ragnar!" Fang yelped, and tried to roll to his feet. He was stopped by one of their teacher's paws.

"Rest, young one," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't stop her."

Glacier chirped and tried to climb on Ragnar to see better. He grunted and wobbled under the sudden weight. "We shouldn't crowd him—"

Another dragon shoved his way through so that he could see. The Council dragon who had been left outside by his rider. Pit's heart sank.

"Ronan?" he asked, sniffing at the humans between Fang's paws.

Everyone went very quiet.

"My sensors aren't detecting any other life signs," Penny said gently. "I'm sorry."

The dragon hissed at her and trotted away, sniffing at the rubble. Then he barked and started to dig. Pit went to help him—so did Ragnar, and even Fang got to his feet and limped over. He was too sore to move any of the bigger rocks, but he could get rid of the ones Pit was affecting with his powers.

They didn't find any Council riders—only sleek black scales, striped in gold. And Strike, unlike Fang, wasn't breathing. Too close to the center of the explosion.

Ragnar made a noise deep in his chest and turned away. Glacier butted his head against his shoulder and whistled a few notes, while Oscar scratched the back of his neck.

The Council dragon kept digging. It was pointless—the only reason Fang had survived and been able to protect all those humans was that he was a fire dragon. Pit kept helping him anyway.