You decided to keep going.
I won't tell you if this was a good choice or a bad choice. That is up to you to decide.
But I can tell you this;
Book II: Revelation
-FOUR AND A HALF YEARS-
Four and a half years had passed since we were reminded of the terror.
I was a dragonet when I heard the news come over the radio.
"I am speaking to you from the Head Office of the King's Palace. This morning at 6:09, The Head Seer of Anibia saw a vision, warning of imminent invaders from Pyrrhia flying towards our coast. They are expected to arrive in the next 1 to 2 days. Midhalm has already been destroyed at this point, their final message confirming the Seer's beliefs."
My father turned up the radio, a scared look speaking for him as everyone else remained silent.
"From what she saw, the Seer believes that there will first be a massive invading force of normal dragons flying towards the west coast of Thessalstia. Behind them, an army of monsters of all different kinds, conjured by their untamed animus magic. It has been warned that these other dragons and monsters will be undefeatable."
I buried my head into my mother's side, praying that this was a nightmare.
"The day we have spoken of for many centuries has finally arrived. As I speak, the army, navy, and air force have already begun preparations. The King asks all citizens of Anibia to stay safe and stay vigilant."
"Goddesses bless Anibia."
As word got out and seers around the world began to catch wind of what had happened, a theory was formed as the world scrambled. Pyrrhians had created these monsters, but they had become too powerful. And so they left Pyrrhia, attempting to run away from their animus-created beasts and take the land that belonged to us.
But King Spirit had an idea. Every King of Anibia learns how to be very specific with their animus magic, as to not create unintended problems. Spirit set an enchantment. A protective border, almost like a bubble, to envelop all of Pyrrhia. A border specifically enchanted so that nothing, not even those monsters, could break out. It surrounded Pyrrhia on all sides, and the world was saved.
But the power of the spell was too great for a king who had already used his magic so much in the past. After saving the world from the Pyrrhians, King Spirit died a hero. The throne was given to his son, Prince Specter. The public was unsure of this, as Specter had had some controversy before. He had been suspected of having an affair with an Icewing, potentially ruining the Aniwing purity of the royal bloodline, and ruining the animus ability. Luckily it had been proven false.
The invasion of the Pyrrhians put the Second Anibian-Balkish War on a temporary truce, but as soon as it was settled, Balksland struck again. Balksland, Anibia's northern neighbor, had attacked Anibia three years prior when Anibian troops began interfering in Sangtan, a country on the small continent of Ajagar that was backed by Balksland.
While Anibia had taken away most of the absolute power of the royal family and distributed the power among the government, Balksland was a country that had most of its power in one place. Balksland believed in a government type called societalism, that distributed wealth among its citzens equally, no matter what, and they had spread that dangerous belief to the developing country of Sangtan.
The war with Balksland eventually ended with an uneasy peace agreement after the front lines hardly moved from the borders at the beginning, and so many lives had been lost. The only thing it really succeeded in doing was showing how much more destructive war technology was, and helped the human rights campaigns become more powerful. Anibia and Balksland both drew troops from Manholm states, and their own human populations. The powerful combination of humans riding dragons was starting to make a comeback.
But death wasn't the only thing that stopped the war with Balksland. All over Thessalstia and beyond, there had been instances of terrorism linked with Pyrrhians. It seemed that many of the escaping Pyrrhians had already made it when King Spirit cast his spell. They had infiltrated society and were causing havoc. As Prime Minister Canyon put it, "their backwards and bigoted mindsets poisoning society."
For the past four years, the world has been getting more and more crazy. The security has been amplified as arrests have been made all over Anibia. Commander Ghastly and his APF have been arresting anyone suspected of being a Pyrrhian or working with them. Grasswing, Aniwing, and Rockwing communities only push this onward as they feel anger for the Pyrrhic Genocide of their kinds.
This rampant persecution began with Falcon, a college professor turned spy, who returned from Pyrrhia and was instantly killed by Pyrrhian sympathizers. Fear and mistrust rule Thessalstia right now.
And I, Timber the Grasswing believe that there is something rotten in the state of Anibia.
. . .
Timber knocked on the door of Polter's apartment. "POLTER!" She yelled as loud as she could without possibly waking his neighbors. "Come on! You need to wake up! Don't leave me to do this by myself!"
It was early morning in Kinsboro. The street was beginning to fill with dragons, cars, and people as the daily commute to work began. It was that kind of time of year when the sun is shining but the wind is crispy and chilly. The leaves were starting to turn colors along the street. A mail dragon was delivering nearby, taking the letters out of his pouch and slipping them through the slots on doors.
Timber racked her brain, trying to remember where Polter had shown her where the second key he had hidden was located. Timber made sure nobody saw her, and then lifted the gutter from the soil in the small garden with some tulips that looked like they had seen better days. Sure enough, right beneath the white metal gutter was a silver key. What's he going to do when it starts snowing? Timber thought as she opened the door and silently closed it behind her.
She walked up the wooden stairs but didn't get to the top when the dark purple Aniwing slid into view. "I'm up." He said, wide-eyed.
"Yeah?" Timber asked. "For how long, because it looks like you just woke up."
"This is just my look now." Polter said, keeping a straight face. "Messy and unkempt translate to cool and stylish nowadays. Rebel against society, you know?"
"Ah that's right. I forgot you became a fashion guru out in Sangtan." Timber joked, keeping a straight face as well.
"Damn right!" Polter exclaimed, and then walked backwards into the bathroom behind him, closing the door between the two dragons.
Polter, short for Poltergeist, was Timber's old Aniwing friend. The two of them had known each other since elementary school when Polter jumped off a roof and accidentally ripped Timber's book out of her claws upon landing. While he wasn't the smartest, Polter had a good sense of humor and was the most loyal dragon Timber had ever known.
Polter had been drafted into the Anibian military when he was eight. He had been sent to the Sangtanese front of the Second Anibian-Balkish War. He had gotten shot in the tail and it made it hard for him to fly. He spent time at an infirmary, and was sent home shortly before the war ended. When he came home, he had been the same, but with something about him that seemed off. While Polter was off fighting, Timber had gone to university to study psychology, and she intended to use the knowledge that the classes had taught her to get her friend to open up again. Sometimes, it worked, and Polter relayed terrible stories of the fighting and the things he had seen. Other times, he just buried it all under humor.
But today, the two were seeking a way to get away from the past. They had lived in Kinsboro, Wyaska their whole lives. It was wrought with the past now. The city was starting to fall into poverty and unemployment. Timber was worried that tensions with Balksland and its allies were far from over, and if she would be called next time a war started in some poor country down in Ajagar or Praebellia or somewhere else.
Polter had told her that dragons who join the APF or something similar had less of a chance to get conscripted. Timber didn't want to join something like the Anibian Police Force, the nationwide police force that was ran like an army, especially with the Pyrrhian Scare going on.
But their friend Granite, a Rockwing in the APF who had moved up north to the city of Pittchester, North Montshire on the Balkish border, told them that the border security there had laid off many employees because of suspicions that they had been infiltrated.
Border security was an easy job, and it definitely lowered the chances of getting drafted. It meant working with the APF, but Timber would prefer working with them than getting killed in the middle of the forest.
As Timber and Polter walked out of the door, Timber held up the spare key. "You need to hide this somewhere better." She said, dangling it in front of him. Polter grabbed the key from her. "What do you mean? The gutter collects rainwater. Therefore, if I stick it underneath, it will never get wet."
Timber turned away and rolled her eyes as the two took flight in the direction of the place the interviewer had agreed to meet them.
. . .
Timber sat across from the Nightwing with Polter to her right. Sunlight streamed through the windows onto the dark colored wooden desk. Their IDs sat on the table in front of Timeseer, the interviewer from the Central Immigration Enforcement, or the C.I.E. He was an old dragon, and the wrinkles on his face showed that he had seen his fair share of things. The teardrop scales next to his eyes, creasing with the wrinkles, let Timber know that he had heard plenty of things too. Things that had been thought but not said.
Polter had warned Timber beforehand that the Anibian government liked to use Nightwings with the ability to read minds for jobs such as lawyers, ambassadors, sergeants, and other roles such as recruiting and interviewing. Timber made sure to clear her mind the way her father had taught her when she was young.
Timber's father was a paranoid dragon. He had five different locks installed on their door, and lock every single one each night. He had a strict curfew for Timber and her sister, Prairie. He taught them to not trust anyone they weren't absolutely sure they could. He showed them about how to track an Aniwing using the animyre, how to spot a camouflaged Rainwing, and above all, how to defend against Nightwing powers.
Timeseer looked into Timbers eyes and she shielded any thoughts about her father. Anything that might make her look untrustworthy. As he brought his old eyes over to Polter, Timber silently exhaled out of relief. She knew that Polter probably didn't have to shield any thoughts from him.
"Why should I hire either of you?" Timeseer asked, scanning both of their eyes again. "It is a time of great turmoil, especially along the northern border with Balksland. As you know, many workers were just fired and arrested, under just a suspicion of working with enemies of the state. We can't be too careful these days. Anibia and its allies have many enemies. Old blood is overflowing the buckets. Why do you think you are good options in the face of such hardships?"
"Separate, we may be just another dragon, but together we work well. Our strengths can fill each other's weaknesses." Polter said, leaning forward. "I was a soldier in Sangtan, and I can follow orders. I can be given an order and I will complete it." Timeseer shifted to meet Polter's eyes better. "And Timber here is great at finding liars. She has the keenest eye of any dragon I've met. If someone's lying or attempting to trick us, she will know."
"And how well do you trust each other?" Timeseer asked, giving both of them a look.
"Very." Timber said, and Polter nodded.
"Then your thoughts were not one sided." Timeseer said, and smiled, but quickly dropped the happy face. "Now you know that it is not just the Balkish threats you're going to have to look out for." He said darkly. Timber knew what he was talking about now.
"The Balkish will be easier to spot. Someone trying to get in and cause havoc. Someone trying to feign as someone else to try and weaken us politically. But the Pyrrhians… who knows what they will do." Timeseer said, and then pulled out some photographs from a briefcase.
He laid them on the table. One was of a crowd. Some dragons were screaming. A dead human lay on the road. In the blurry photo, Timber could see two dragons wearing the same armband with an insignia on them.
Among them, Timber recognized another symbol. It was on a photo of a Mudwing out in the rural west of Anibia, who was getting arrested by the APF. He looked terrible. His face was bleeding and he had what looked like large bruises on his chest. On his ear was a replica of the legendary Earring of Sola.
She had heard of various symbols being used by Pyrrhians. Most of them were the old emblems of their various kingdom for each race of dragon, but some of them were multi-tribal, especially the earring and the armband.
"We still don't know what some of these symbols mean." Timeseer said with a low voice. "I ask you to study these symbols. Ingrain them into your minds, so that if anything strikes you as odd. If anyone suspicious even has a pierced ear, they may be a part of these dangerous organizations."
Timber and Polter nodded. "The other thing you must be prepared for is that you will be working alongside the APF. Anyone crossing that border illegally must be engaged with lethal force. Commander Ghastly ordered that when the war ended as part of our 'closed border' policy with Balksland. Will you be ready to kill if necessary? Kill to protect your country?"
Polter nodded. Timber nodded a little later, and with not as much certainty. She felt Timeseer's prying eyes linger on her, trying to pick apart her brain. She pretended to relent, and let him see her deeper thoughts, but even those were a front.
"Welcome to the CIE." Timeseer said, not turning his gaze from Timber. "You start in five days. Your travel to North Montshire will be paid for."
. . .
It was late afternoon as Timber and Polter arrived at The Birch Keg, the most popular pub in Kinsboro. They figured that getting the job was a great excuse to go out drinking for the night. Timber sat at the brightly lit bar next to Polter under the low-hanging lamps. Most tables and chairs at the bar were filled with dragons. Mostly Skywings, as Wyaska had a high Skywing population, but there were other races too.
Timber and Polter were known in this pub well. Their favorite bartender, a Skywing named Pico already knew what Polter was going to order. He pulled out a bottle of Pulterre and began to mix it with the cola. "This may be our last time here." Polter said to the Skywing.
"What? Why?" Pico asked, giving Polter his drink. "Because we're sick and tired of staying out late and drinking. We're going to sit inside and listen to Classical at 8 on the radio, read books about why we're so much better than the poor countries, and be asleep by 9." Polter said, completely deadpan, but Pico knew he was joking, nodding and smiling slightly.
"It's because we got a job up in North Montshire." Timber said, leaning over the counter a bit. "Ah. Good for you." Pico said, handing another worker a dirty scotch glass. The radio in the corner finally came on, and the sounds of Thessalstia's best jazz came on through the speaker.
"Well, we'll miss your patronage here at The Birch Keg." Pico said, giving Timber her order of light beer. She began to drink in silence as Polter and Pico continued to talk about their new job. Polter brought up working with the APF and Timber grimaced. She hated the thought of working with them, but then again, hated the thought of getting drafted even more.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the red door designed for a dragon open, but a non-dragon shape walk through it. The bar began to get quieter as the man walked in. Timber could suddenly hear the music's lyrics;
"…We'll share a kiss while I help you pack,
Because I'll still love you when you get back…"
The man had curly, red hair and walked with a slight limp. It was Arnold Cooper, Polter's rider from the war.
Polter got up and began to walk towards the man. "Go back to Manholm!" Someone cried. Arnold ducked as someone threw a balled up piece of paper at him. "I didn't know this pub served yinners!" Someone else cried. Timber shook her head slightly. Yinner was a slur used for humans. "It doesn't." Pico said, and moved towards the man.
"I'm not here to buy anything! I'm just here to say goodbye to my comrade!" Arnold announced, and then turned to Polter, who escorted Arnold to where he and Timber were sitting.
"Congratulations. I've heard Pittchester is a great city despite being on the border of the war. It was spared from much of the destruction." Arnold said when Polter had informed him of the new job.
"What about you? Will you be staying here despite the unemployment?" Timber asked Arnold.
Arnold looked out a nearby window at the streetlights out in the night. "No… Julia's parents still live in Bear Creek. She doesn't want to leave them alone out here, so it looks like we'll be renewing our permits again." Arnold said, referencing his wife, Julia. Timber nodded, understanding.
Timber had only stayed in Kinsboro because that was where her mother had stayed when her father had died. Although Prairie left to live down south to get away from war, Timber had stayed in the city for her mother. But then her mother met a Grasswing named Badger and moved in with him in Seatanna, a few states away from Wyaska.
"Julia… recently got into a quarrel with her brother though. A bad one." Arnold said. "He defended New Star, saying that they might be on to something." Polter's eyes widened as Arnold explained the argument.
New Star, a human group that existed around the world, believed in the principles of Black Star, the side of pure humanity in the War of Supremacy. They were one of the top terror groups in the world, and were persecuted in almost every major country. They were responsible for the death of President Kaktüs of Atesi years ago, which only made it worse for human rights groups around the world.
For thousands of years, the humans had lived underneath the dragons following the victory of the Camaelists in the War of Supremacy. Slowly, but surely, they had been gaining their rights back as the world progressed.
Now, the world was progressing faster than ever. And so were the humanity movements. Many dragons were split on the issue. Some claimed that while the Camaelists were a bit extreme for the modern age, they were still on the right track. Humans were much more inferior than dragons and could not be trusted. Some pointed out that humans and dragons were essentially the same, and the only thing that made them different species entirely was their physical bodies.
Timber supported the human rights societies. She wasn't sure where Polter stood currently.
Polter and Arnold shared a heartfelt goodbye as fellow soldiers who had survived the horrors of Sangtan, and Arnold left the bar. Timber looked out the window at the streetlights as the music continued.
"…And maybe we could live as one.
Say, wouldn't that be more fun,
Than living lonely and far apart?"
. . .
Exactly five days after the night at the pub, Timber and Polter were going northeast towards North Montshire on the Santrack Railway. It was about a day's trip, and Timber had attempted to remember everything she needed before they left. She was worried that she had left something behind, running through the list of things in her head. It seemed that she had remembered everything, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she had forgotten something.
"Timber, are you worried about moving to Pittchester?" Polter asked quietly, so that other dragons wouldn't overhear them from other seats.
"In what way?" Timber asked.
"You know, the whole part where it's on the Balkish border. Are you worried about getting hurt there?" Polter said, staring out the window at the plains they were riding through. "Are you at all worried that something might happen to us out there?"
Timber thought for a moment, and then looked her friend in the eyes. "Are you?" She asked.
Polter shifted in his seat. "The horror I saw out in Sangtan sometimes feels like it pales in comparison to what happened up with the border here." He said uncomfortably. "I… kind of feel scared of it. Like it's a bad idea to even get close to it. Like there's a curse on that city for surviving the war nearly unscathed."
"Like all the destruction it should have suffered in the war is going to catch up to it." Timber said, and Polter nodded.
"And we'll be there to die in it. So will Granite." Polter said.
Timber nodded, glad to get a peek into the real problems of Polter beneath the extroversion and humor. "Well, Granite's been living there for a while, and said he had the same worries, but nothing's happened to him."
"Doesn't mean it will stay like that forever." Polter said, flipping a newspaper onto the table that had been left on the seat. One of the headlines read; "TESSYIAN PRIME MINISTER DEMANDS THE KRENSKYAN PENINSULA FROM SOLSKENI."
"If Tessyia attacks Solskeni, we will be drawn into another fight with Tessyia's ally, Balksland." Polter said matter-of-factly.
"This is why Anibia needs to stop all this interventionism." Timber said. "If we go into Solskeni to defend them from the Tessyians, we'll end up destroying ourselves and everyone else."
"We can't afford to stop the containment of societalism, no matter the cost. It threatens the very existence of Anibia." Polter said straight-forwardly.
After a brief period of uneasy silence between the two, Timber turned back to Polter. "Maybe the Pyrrhian theory is real. Maybe they're trying to destroy us through these means." She said quietly, and half-joking.
"The Pyrrhian theory is a bunch of gibberish made up by idiots who don't understand the world around them." Polter said. "Seriously, the theory that the entire Anibian government is being controlled by a Pyrrhian cabal, and that even the king is a helpless puppet? The kings have animus magic. It would never work."
Polter relaxed and calmed down. "Besides… if that was real, all of this stuff with the APF wouldn't be going on. All of these arrests wouldn't be happening." Timber thought about the news she had heard about even being suspected of having anything to do with Pyrrhians was resulting in brutal arrests around the country. She thought back to that picture of the Mudwing with the earring, bloody and bruised.
"I guess all we can do is our jobs." Polter said resignedly. "And make sure that all this never comes to pass."
When the train stopped and the two dragons took their luggage off the cargo car, Timber turned and looked at the bustling station around her. Vendors tried to get the attention of random dragons, and beyond the large wooden and glass doors, lay the streets of Pittchester.
Timber took a deep breath. The rest of her family had gone their ways. Now it was her time to make it in a far off place. She didn't exactly know what awaited her in this city, but she had her friends Polter and Granite by her side.
Polter passed her, eager to get out of the crowded station. She grabbed her bags and followed the dark purple Aniwing.
Into the unknown.
. . .
Commander Ghastly watched from the observatory deck as the machine began to whirr. It made a dangerous sounding vibration as the beam was aimed at the massive wall of plants that was covering the testing wall.
To his side was Prime Minister Canyon, and to his side, King Specter. Also with them were many top generals and governmental advisors, all eagerly watching Experiment 9. If this worked, then another war with Balksland, or any other major threat, could be done before it even started.
The cylindrical machine began to spin as it collected the serum from the source, a black box located in the core of the device, which gave it its power. The machine was an abomination, as they all were. Modern technology stitched together with Specter's animus magic and a touch of godly power.
The scientists aimed the tip of the laser at the mass of vines and grasses covering the wall on the far end of the huge cavern. A series of buttons were pressed, and then a large red lever was pulled.
The floor around Experiment 9 began to shake, like a miniature earthquake. Every light in the cavern began to flicker, and then went out. The observation deck began to sway, and the dragons spread their wings, getting ready to fly if needed. And then it began.
A bright green laser shot out the end of Experiment 9. It hit the plants, which instantly caught on fire, burning away almost instantly. The noise from the machine was great, making even Canyon cover his ears. The centrifuges inside the machine were spinning fast, emitting dangerous amounts of lightning and a terrible smelling smoke.
And then it happened. In the space where the vegetation had been, almost like a shadow, was a dark hole that traced the shape of the burned plants. It seemed to suck what little light there was right into it. Through the hole, Ghastly could see glowing white spheres floating in the darkness.
And then, just as quickly as it had come, it disappeared. The laser began to burn through the concrete wall.
Experiment 9's tip fell off, and the centrifuges stopped spinning. The noise and shaking stopped, and the lights gradually came back on.
The scientists flew over to the observation deck. "It's definitely progress." Canyon said, pleased with the results. Ghastly didn't know what to think of it.
"It seems a little… dangerous." King Specter said. "I trust that you are taking precaution to be safe with the source."
"Yes, we are being safe with the source." One of the scientists said. He was obviously excited about what they had seen. "Did you see it?" He asked the viewers of Experiment 9. "The journal was correct about what it looked like!"
"I agree." Ghastly said. "The journal described the Void just as it was."