Polter could see them in the distance.
Before, when the forests were still thick, it probably would have been impossible to see that far ahead, but now, with the forests reduced down to only the most resilient trees after the recent attack, he could see the tanks rolling towards their position.
"INTO THE AIR!" Someone yelled from nearby. "DON'T LET THEM GET A GOOD SHOT AT YOU!" Polter felt Arnold leap onto his back as he quickly took to the sky, flying up into the low, dark clouds. As Polter and the other dragons began to rise into the clouds, they realized they were not alone. In the direction of the tanks, dragons were coming to attack them, mobile rifles attached to their arms.
"DAMN IT!" A Skywing named Robin yelled, the woman on her back struggling to hold on. "Polter! Be ready to use your animyre!"
Polter got ready as Arnold counted the incoming dragons. "No riders. One Nightwing, six Rockwings, and a Mudwing with what I think is an automatic MG."
"Then we're going to have to face them head on." Polter said, steeling himself. He could see other Anibian troops taking off to get away from the armored tanks below. They had already used most of their explosives on a bunker earlier and what they had left had to be saved for their main goal.
Polter's company, Company Flame, had been ordered to take out three battleships from the Sangtanese fleet that had suddenly changed course and were now heading for an Anibian hideout on the coast. A scout had noticed that these ships were loaded with artillery perfect for taking out fortifications. Company Flame had been split into three large platoons tasked with bombing the ships and destroying their artillery. But it was a clear day, and they would be seen by scouts ahead of time if they were to fly there over the open water, meaning the Anti-Dragon Machine Guns, or ADMG, would be ready to shoot them down.
The plan instead? Trek through the thick forest and launch a three-pronged attack from the coasts when the boats have to slow down to pass through a group of small islands with rocky water.
However, now it seemed that the enemy had predicted this, and had unloaded tanks from the largest ship that had been hidden below deck on the beaches. They then used the artillery to blow away the cover of the forest in some places, making it easy for the tanks to hit their targets.
The dragons in front of him must have come from the nearby town of Khách Mai. Who knew they had infantry positioned there?
"This is only a couple squads." Arnold said as Polter aimed his rifle. This wasn't the first time they had fought the enemy, but Polter still got the chills. "Where is the…"
A sudden scream made Polter quickly look away from the enemy, who still hadn't fired yet. And now Polter knew why.
Robin screamed as the Rainwings suddenly launched their surprise attack from their invisible positions. Venom drenched Robin and her rider as they screamed and the venom ate away her scales. Robin's rider fell from her back as Robin fell too. Polter's friend Superstition yelled and began blasting the direction of the venom with machine gun fire, the man on his back, Charlie, still looking back towards the other soldiers approaching.
Squad Eclis was surrounded.
Polter?
Polter snapped back to reality. The sound wasn't Superstition's machine gun. It was just the nearby hammering of construction workers. Timber looked up at him, concerned. "Are you okay?" She asked.
"Yeah… just… thinking about things. What street did Granite say the park was on?" Polter mumbled, looking around at the buildings of downtown.
"Forest Street." Timber responded. As they turned a corner, they were greeted by a Nightwing with a wooden sign with a hinge and two sides on his back. Both sides read "THE END IS NEAR".
Once again, Polter suddenly flashed back to the past. This time, he was being told he was being sent out to Sangtan. "I hope I'm able to send letters back to my love." Said a Skywing next to Polter to nobody in particular.
"Don't bother." Said a passing Grasswing. His voice sounded gravely. "Nobody seems to understand that they're at the end of their lives. An announcement of deployment is an announcement of death."
The Nightwing suddenly turning to look Timber in the eyes brought Polter back to reality again. "I've seen it!" He cried to her. "My powers surpass even the Head Seer! The King of Kings shall arrive soon, and then everyone will be sorry they didn't listen to me! The end is nigh!"
"Hey!" Polter said sternly at the Nightwing. "Get away from her!"
"You're with her! I know you well!" The Nightwing cried when he saw Polter's face, and then snorted when he saw Timber's confused face. "And not this Grasswing! You and the poet. Oh, how her vines wrap you so!" He then began chuckling. "Oh… that's good. That's a funny one."
Timber pulled Polter's wing to get his attention, and they left the Nightwing slowly laughing to himself, his signs telling everyone around his message of doom.
. . .
"So, how are things at the border?" Granite asked, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. Timber turned her head as to not inhale any of the smoke.
"Not much goes out. Not much goes in." Polter said. It was true. They had only been working for two days, but the other guards had told them how things went. "Everyone's nervous, but nothing ever happens. The Balkish border guard is always visible in the distance, but they never do anything either."
"They probably feel the same way you do." Granite said, and then turned to admire a luxury car pass by, the human inside probably some kind of big shot somewhere. "I wish one day they have cars for dragons. I have no clue how it would work, but I can imagine they'd have to be much bigger."
Polter softly snorted at Granite's remark. "The Balkish don't feel the same way we do, they're too busy stockpiling those terrible rifles in a room somewhere in there."
Now it was Granite's turn to laugh. "The Balkish won't try anything for a long time. They're as battered as we are. The real threat is the Pyrrhians."
"Yeah… Granite, were you involved in…" Timber began, but Granite cut her off.
"That arrest the other day? Yeah. I didn't do anything, but I stood outside the apartment when it happened. I saw the damage after it all went down. That Rainwing venom is terrible stuff." Granite said. "That Mudwing that got a face full of it, I could see his bone."
"Was he really a Pyrrhian?" Polter asked. "Was the informant right?"
"We believe so. His neighbor said he had confessed to her. Told her he had lost his wife in the Pyrrhian Catastrophe. He told her his name was Mangrove." Granite said quietly so that nobody else in the park could hear. "We have him locked up now. They didn't have to kill him right away, so maybe we can get some information out of him before he's executed."
If it was somebody else, Polter might have felt worse about the treatment of the dragons the APF took prisoner. But the Pyrrhians were responsible for decimating the populations of Aniwings in eastern Thessalstia during the Pyrrhic Genocide. What was happening to the Pyrrhian invaders now was only a fraction of the pain they had caused the Aniwings, Rockwings, and Grasswings.
"Well, that's enough of that dark talk." Granite said. "Are you both coming to the gala tomorrow night for Anibian military and police?"
"Of course!" Polter exclaimed before Timber could say no. The gala was held in the city hall, and Polter had been told that big names in the city would normally make an appearance. "Do you think Boulder will be there?" Boulder the Rockwing, one of the richest dragons in Anibia, lived in a mansion outside Pittchester.
"Maybe. I've heard he's been there before." Granite said. "Who knows? He's always been kind of a wild card."
"Are you sure? A gala?" Timber asked with a hint of complaint in her voice.
"We're new here Timber. What better place to make connections than at a massive gala? We won't be able to recreate something like the Birch Keg here if we don't reach out!" Polter exclaimed to his introverted friend.
"Yeah… I guess you're right. I'll go." Timber said resignedly.
Polter smiled at her, and she gave him a half-hearted smile back. Polter knew she didn't like social situations, but he knew it was good for her to get out, or she would get sucked into doing goddesses know what on her own like she had in the past. She had once become so obsessed with trying to see as many different types of birds as possible, and Polter didn't see her for weeks.
Granite gave them instructions on how to get to city hall. "And I'll see you there. I can introduce you to some of my friends from work. They're great dragons, all of them." He said, and then put his cigarette back in his mouth and turned and walked away, stopping to admire the car from earlier, which had now parked outside a bank.
"Mangrove… A Pyrrhian, right in this very city with us." Polter said. Things like this didn't happen back in Kinsboro.
"And he's probably not the only one." Timber said. "I'm going to go enjoy the rest of my day off. I'll see you tomorrow night." She turned and left, leaving Polter alone with the sound of the hammering in the distance, sounding like gunshots and fire to nobody but Polter.
. . .
Eleven years ago.
Prince Specter sat in the hall with his father, King Spirit of Anibia. His mother, Queen Imagination, sat on the other side of Spirit.
The royal family was hosting a dinner party with members of multiple rich families from across Anibia. They were all gathered around the table, talking about politics, money, and a possible war approaching with Balksland.
Specter couldn't help but begin to tune it out. He knew his parents wanted him to be educated in all aspects of the country he would one day be the king of, despite much of the king's power being gone in the modern age, but the prince couldn't pay attention. The classical music being played nearby by human servants was far more interesting. The elegant violins and plucky sound of the harpsichord, playing a song from a time long ago.
Many dragons, especially Thessalstians, viewed things from "Pre Draconic Age," or the age of humanity before dragons existed, as elegant and luxurious. Something classic Camaelists or Pyrrhians might find repulsive. In the thousands of years since the War of Supremacy, draconic society had slowly morphed into something more akin to the old human culture.
In all his education, Specter had been taught that although dragons were superior to humans physically, the old style Camaelist ideas had been all but discarded. As it became more and more obvious that progression couldn't be stopped, and that those who attempted to rebuild society in the true way Camael saw it were struggling, and those who expanded upon old ideas were prospering, Camaelist law relaxed.
The years that followed the "Revolution of Thought," society quickly became similar to old human society. It had been dubbed the "New Draconic Age." The last thousand years had been one of progression, culture, and global civilization, as dragons stopped being as savage as their ancestors. Some had put down the spear and picked up the quill, and ideas flourished.
Old technology that had never really left stopped being suppressed, such as trains, and new technology began being developed. Radios, cars, telephones, planes, light bulbs, and more.
When the humans were done, the dragons clapped politely, slightly shaking their wings and stomping on the floor. Specter did as well, but he knew the end of the music didn't mean the end of the dinner party.
He answered questions when asked of him, most of them being about what he plans to do, what he believes in, how much he is like his father and mother. They don't want things to change. They're comfortable with the lives they have, and they want to make sure it stays the same when I become king.
Is this all it is? Did my father feel the same way? Is he acting just like grandfather did when he was king? Specter felt the familiar tingle in his claws. He had the Power of Hamza. Animus magic. Just like his father did, and his grandmother did. So powerful, and yet so weak. The power of a divine being, but subservient to the elite and the government.
Things need to change. This country needs change.
When the meal was done, servants came in to clear their plates. An Icewing walked over to Specter to take his plate, and their eyes met.
Specter had thought about her before. Iceberg was her name. He had seen her only twice, as she normally worked for his mother and her friends. She was beautiful. Crystalline spikes on her back, her eyes glittering like diamonds.
Rules in the royal family stated that nobody could be with anyone who was not an Aniwing, due to the Curse of Wraith and the wish to keep the bloodline pure. The danger of even the possibility of having a wild animus with a corrupted soul kept everyone with direct blood relation to King Wraith from being with anyone from any other tribe. This could all be avoided of course, if one didn't have any dragonets.
This family needs change.
. . .
EXCERPT FROM "No More Claws: The History of Draconic War" by Cetus the Seawing.
Chapter Seven: The Mobile Gun.
Many historians believe that although some attribute the first idea of the mobile rifle to Cheng, it was in fact Verlassen that first developed a weapon that attached to the arm of a dragon. Three years after the first Human-Dragon War, the Verlassen military attached a standard rifle to the arm of a dragon, and the Drachen von Verlassen, or "DV", was born. The first dragon military division equipped with human weapons.
The weapon, larger in size than human weapons, was still a simple rifle from the time period. Simple flintlock rifles yet required more resources to make. However, the cost was widely regarded as worth the product. Dragons armed with weapons were essentially warplanes in a time when such an idea was infeasible. The DV quickly became a feared weapon with this technology, and other nations at the time began trying out dragon soldiers themselves.
Yet, loading bullets into the rifle one at a time proved a struggle for some dragons while flying, commonly dropping bullets from the sky, sometimes losing all of them. Another problem was the straps. Commonly made of leather, cloth, or rubber. These straps that kept the weapons on the arm of the dragons were prone to falling apart and slipping off the arm. However, the worst flaw of these weapons was the fact that having one equipped took an entire talon to use, restricting use of the talon. Dragons mid-flight couldn't simply drop the gun like a human could. Dragons fighting with Old Monarchy were constantly making ideas and wishing for better designs.
In the Camaelist Age after the Camaelists won the War of Supremacy, use of these weapons decreased as human technology became looked down upon, and even banned in some places. However, use would always crop up in certain times and places.
But with the new age of dragon technology, came time for innovation. Use of the mobile rifle came into fashion again, but now, the ideas could be improved.
With the development of the modern gun, the ability of what the mobile rifle could do increased. The introduction of magazines and automatic weapons helped solve the problem of losing most ammunition, but the other problems remained.
It was Tessyia that first tried to fix the straps, using modern metallic clamps on the arm to keep the gun in place, but the talon was still occupied by the weapon, and the clamps were uncomfortable, and were found to sometimes be too tight and restrict blood flow.
A Nightwing by the name of Cresenteye in Anibia is credited with designing the mobile rifle cable system. This new addition to the armored uniform of Anibian soldiers solved the problems of the mobile rifle.
Coils of retractable wire in a cannister-like compartment are attached on the side of the dragon above the arm before the shoulder. On the end of these coils are the weapons, which are pulled out for use. When the user lets go, the wire retracts, pulling the gun back to the dragon's side, ready to be pulled out again.
Other nations quickly used this idea themselves, and now you have the weapons of today. Modern, practical, and easy to use.
END EXCERPT
. . .
Polter walked into the gala, wearing a silver tail band he thought accentuated his deep purple scales. He had shown the doordragon his ID that confirmed him as part of the CIE and entered without a problem. What lay in front of him was a large party filled with dragons of many different tribes. A jazz band played on a stage, and in front of them was a small section of the floor without tables, where dragons were dancing to the music. The rest of the city hall's main event floor was covered in round tables, where dragons were chatting, eating, and drinking.
Polter smiled. Now this was something Kinsboro could never offer him. A bustling party of new faces and entertainment. Tonight was also a fundraiser to help rebuild other towns near the border that had suffered during the war. Not all cities and towns were as lucky as Pittchester, and the dragons there were struggling to get by. Polter knew that since they were expecting wealthy dragons to show up tonight, that the quality of everything must be high. Luxurious life in the city indeed.
After the doors, there was a small part of the room elevated above the rest to provide Polter this view of the event. A small set of stairs on either side led down the main hall. Polter had been looking for Granite or Timber, and just as he was about to turn and go to Granite, a Rainwing waitress quickly went up the other stairs, squeezing through the other attendees. She stood next to Polter and began surveying the crowd just as Polter was.
She was very pretty, her scales maintaining a swirl of various blues, but her eyes communicated a different story. She analytically scanned the crowd, and then turned to Polter when she realized he was looking at her. She gave a quick smile, and then went back down the stairs and disappeared into a swinging door, probably going to the kitchen.
"Polter!" Granite greeted Polter when he got to the table. There were two other dragons with him. A light green Seawing and a very light tan colored Grasswing with a very shiny necklace. "This is Marine, and this is Lush." Granite said. "They're my friends from the APF." Marine nodded curtly and Lush gave Polter a warm smile.
"Hi. I'm Polter. I'm Granite's friend from school. I just moved up here from Wyaska along with my friend Timber… who I still don't see…" Polter said, looking around the hall again. "I hope she isn't going to be a no-show."
"Hey Polter, have you read that new book everyone's talking about? The Black Talon?" Lush asked with a tinge of curiosity in her voice.
"Oh… no…" Polter said sheepishly. "I'm not a big reader. Timber is though." Polter had heard of the book. It was written by a popular author named Catfish, who was recently controversial as he revealed himself as a mixed race dragon. Part Seawing, part Mudwing.
"I don't understand that book." Granite said.
"What about it?" Lush asked, inquisitively.
"What was the point?" Granite asked. "What was the meaning? There was no discernable overarching lesson, moral, or theme. There were little things scattered all throughout the story, but at the end, I felt like I had just read a bunch of nonsense about life and death."
"I think that it was left like that on purpose." Lush said speculatively. "I think Catfish intended for the reader to determine the meaning for themselves, and what it means to them personally."
"Well, it left me feeling like shit." Granite said, and then turned his head away. "Hey Polter. I see Timber."
Polter lifted his head from staring at the champagne in his glass to see Timber standing on the entrance balcony as he had been earlier. He raised his wing and got her attention. But something coming up behind her grabbed everyone at the table's attention. In fact, it grabbed everyone's attention.
An entourage of dragons and even some humans were coming in. All dressed quite nicely. Is it him? Polter thought. Timber got out of the way and made her way down the stairs and towards the table just in time before the crowd took over the whole area. "It's him!" Someone cried nearby. "Boulder is here!"
As the Rockwing millionaire came into view, the air in the whole room suddenly felt electrified. Here, in this building, was one of the richest dragons in the world. Boulder had inherited ownership of Merces Oil from his father, who had been one of the dragons who helped make oil and fossil fuels such a massive industry. He had so much money, and with the fundraiser going on, they all knew what he was going to do. The only question was how much.
"I didn't think he would be coming." Said Marine gruffly. "I thought he would be having a party of his own up in his mansion, just like he always does."
"Don't shrug him off as just another one of those elites." Polter said. "Boulder's different."
"Yeah. Because he can afford to be different. I bet under those thick scales he's the same as all the other rich. Greedy and rotten to the core." Marine grumbled.
Timber made her way over to the table, managing to squeeze through the crowd. "I thought you would be a no-show." Polter teased.
"I wish." Timber said. "Trying to get in took so long with all of Boulder's posse out there."
"How much do you think he'll give to the fund?" Granite asked.
"I don't know. Hopefully enough that some of those struggling families can get back into the sky." Timber said. Polter nodded in agreement. He imagined experiencing what he had seen as just a civilian. He began to go back to those times, but a sudden noise snapped him out of it.
He turned to see a broken glass on the floor, and the waitress picking it up. It was the Rainwing from earlier. As she got back up from the floor, she passed over Polter's face and looked up, out a massive window on the right side of the hall that showed the city's nightlife springing alive. She then tuned back down to Polter and made eye contact. She was definitely pretty, her scales turning different colors like swirling paints. She smiled, and then quickly left to go replace the broken glass.
Lush, who had left to go see what was up at the buffet table, came back with an excited look on her face. "Someone up at the table said he's donating a lot!" She said.
"Awesome." Timber said, and smiled.
"Look. I bet we're going to find out right now." Polter said, seeing Boulder spread out his wings and tap a glass. The crowd fell nearly silent.
"I guess we should do this right away." He said in a deep, booming voice. Slight laughter echoed in the hall. "While this whole gala began as an honorary gathering for the police and military in Pittchester, it has now taken a new form in light of the recent war with Balksland."
"I have seen it for myself. The suffering at the border. Families struggling to get by, some single parents, taking on burdens that no single dragon should have to take." Boulder said sadly. "I was given by chance the life I lead now. To be born to my father was extremely lucky. I live my life knowing not everyone else leads the life I live, and so I wish to change the world with my wealth and make it a better place for all."
"That is why I will be donating-" Boulder was cut off as a sudden sound echoed through the room. A noise like a massive gunshot, and the noise of glass falling down as the massive window shattered.
The hall erupted into chaos. Polter and Granite dropped down as fast as they could, everyone else at the table quickly following their lead. Polter saw two Pittchester policedragons that had suddenly appeared protect Boulder, quickly taking him behind a table. Next to them, a Sandwing who was part of Boulder's group was on the ground, bleeding from her head. She was definitely dead. The bullet hole looked large, not like the holes normal bullets any normal gun would shoot.
Polter turned his gaze to the window, which was now broken on the massive right panel. Completely shattered. He could only see curious onlookers and some APF on top of the building next to city hall, where the shooter most likely was.
When shots were not fired again, Granite told everyone at the table it was okay to get up. "Lush, Marine, we need to do something here." He said to his fellow APF members with urgency. The other APF who had been on standby in case something happened were already in action. Getting help for the dead Sandwing and making sure everything was secure.
The crowd was a mixture of shock, fear, and anger. Murmuring interspersed with yelling. Some dragons had already escaped through the front door and emergency exits. "You two should get out of here." Marine said to Polter and Timber as he, Granite, and Lush left to go talk to the other police.
"Polter… are you okay?" Timber asked. Polter was going to ask her the same thing, when he realized he was shaking.
"LOOK OUT!" Someone else yelled. Polter turned just in time to see a human servant run towards Boulder, holding a strange weapon Polter had never seen before, aiming it at the millionaire. But before he got the chance to fire the weapon, he was grabbed by two APF officers who had flown at him, throwing him against the wall and ripping the gun from his hands.
A Mudwing officer pinned the human to the ground while a Nightwing stood nearby and easily disassembled the gun, two parts falling to the ground. "WHO DO YOU WORK FOR?!" Yelled the Mudwing. "NEW STAR?!"
"If you knew the truth… you'd try to kill him too…" Stammered the human, and then kicked the Mudwing in the stomach with his foot. His foot stayed attached to the Mudwing's stomach from the front, who screamed and blasted the man with fire.
When the fire was put out with help from water from the kitchen, they saw that the man's shoe had a hidden blade at the front, which he had stabbed the Mudwing with. The two were dead.
. . .
Polter and Timber walked out along with many other partygoers as the press started to come in, cameras and journals ready to capture the scene of a gala for good suddenly turned into a tragedy. As far as Polter knew, they hadn't caught the one who had shot through the window, and Boulder had gotten away safely. The whole area was swarming with police. Both local Pittchester police and APF.
Polter and Timber walked out of the city hall, maneuvering through the new crowd and into the night. It was much later than they had originally planned to get out. The moons were high in the sky, all crescents. "I'm going to take a trolley back home." Timber said. "I don't feel safe tonight." Polter didn't feel safe either, but he wasn't about to pay money when he could fly to his place easily.
"However…" Timber said slowly, and then stopped and looked around.
"What?" Polter asked, his eyes darting around as well, trying to see what she was looking for.
"Let's move a little further away from the commotion." Timber said quietly, and the two crossed the street and got beneath the awning of a storefront. "It's about the APF and that gun." She said when she was convinced she was safe to speak.
"What about it?" Polter asked, confused. What was there to talk about?
"Have you ever seen a weapon like that before in your life?" Timber asked. "At any point in the war, did you see something like that gun at all?"
Polter remembered the strange gun the human had attacked Boulder with. With a long barrel like a shotgun yet held like a rifle. And that crank-like mechanism at the bottom. "No. I haven't. Nothing that looks like that at all."
"And a gun powerful enough to break a window like that and leave a wound like that in that Sandwing." Timber said. "Yet… the APF knew exactly how to dismantle it. When they took it away from the human, that Nightwing easily took the gun apart. The APF know that weapon, and yet Anibia's own soldiers such as you, don't."
Polter looked back at the city hall down the street. APF officers were standing outside, now appearing to take control of the situation. Pittchester police were leaving. "You're reading too much into it." Polter said to Timber. "We didn't see the gun in detail. Maybe it's easy to disassemble it just by looking at it. Maybe this was a weapon they've only recently seen since the end of the war. There's just too much we don't know to be making assumptions that they're keeping secrets. Plus, don't you think Granite would have told us about this kind of stuff, especially when it was all happening?"
Timber shrugged her wings. "I don't know. But there was something off about it to me."
"There's always something off, isn't there?" Polter muttered, which got him a look from Timber.
"Well I'm getting out of here. See you later." Timber said to her friend and walked off towards the trolley stop.
Polter groaned and turned to fly back to his apartment when he saw the Rainwing waitress from the gala, walking alone in the night. "Hey!" He cried across the street to her. She looked up at him, and Polter flew across the street to go next to her.
"Oh… Hi." She said. "Are you and your friends okay?"
"Yes. How about yours? Is all the staff alright?" Polter asked her.
"Yes, they're all fine. Except for that man, but I think he wasn't even real employee. I think he snuck in." She said, obviously still flustered by the whole event.
The two began walking together. "Who would try to take out Boulder?" Polter asked. "Out of all the rich dragons to try and assassinate, they tried to take out the nicest one."
The Rainwing nodded. "Yeah. It's a shame really." She said, slightly turning a different shade of blue briefly. "I don't know why anyone would think someone like him would need to die."
"I bet it was Pyrrhians." Polter said, and the Rainwing looked up at him. They passed a streetlight with one last moth trying to find warmth in the cold nights. "My friend told me she thinks the APF were suspicious, but I think it was Pyrrhians trying to kill another one of Anibia's great dragons. Just like Falcon."
The two walked in silence for a bit. The city nightlife was still slightly bustling. They passed a bar full of dragons intently listening to the radio, probably hearing about the attack. "What's your name?" Polter asked the Rainwing.
"My name is Starfruit." She said. "Who are you?"
"I'm Poltergeist, but just call me Polter." Polter said, smiling at her. She smiled back. Polter noticed she had two silver earrings on. "I was a soldier in Sangtanese front." Polter said.
"I fought too." Starfruit said. "I was a prisoner of war in a Balkish prison. I got released in a prisoner exchange with my friends Waterscale and Ember. It's amazing we're all still alive."
Polter thought back to the war. "I had a friend in war. His name was Superstition. We had each other's backs all the time until one day… we had to bomb this battleship that was going to attack a commanding hideout. We succeeded, but I got shot in the tail, and an ADMG shot Superstition right through the chest. His rider died too."
"… I'm sorry. That sounds terrible." Starfruit said.
"It's war. What can you do?" Polter said sadly. "I'm sure you lost dragons you cared about too."
"Yeah. I have. I feel like it was my fault too." Starfruit said sadly.
"Don't do that to yourself." Polter said to the Rainwing. "Dragons always die, no matter what. Sometimes it's out of our control. We can only keep moving forward. The Goddesses make decisions, and we have to live with them. Unless you shot them directly, it wasn't truly your fault."
There was a brief silence. "Thanks." Starfruit said softly.
Polter then turned the corner, but Starfruit kept going straight. "Oh…" Polter said, and then turned back to Starfruit. "We should meet again sometime." He said to her.
"Really?" Starfruit asked, sounding surprised.
"Yeah. How about tomorrow at the park on Forest Street?" Polter offered.
"Well… sure." Starfruit said, and then gave him another one of those smiles.
Polter smiled back, then turned away and kept going. His head filled with happy thoughts, temporarily making the memories of gunshots disappear into the background. Only slightly there, like hammering in the distance.
. . .
Dr. Hayes sat in the underground facility with the five other human scientists that had been recruited by Anibia from Manholm. There were five chairs, and a desk in front of the room. That was it.
Anibia had gone around the human country and gathered five scientists who they believed were the best of the best. Dr. Hayes couldn't believe that he had been picked by the most powerful country in Thessalstia to do scientific work. His passion. He knew that the money from this would be astounding. Enough to help his sick mother recover.
The door to the room opened and in walked another human and a Skywing. They had a briefcase with them. They closed the door behind them, and Dr. Hayes saw the Skywing lock it. The human Anibian scientist got behind the desk and put the briefcase down on top.
"Before I begin, you must pledge your allegiance to Anibia and swear to keep everything you learn here a secret." The man said. "We will find you and punish you to the fullest extent of our ability if you betray us or give away secrets before they are declassified." The man opened the briefcase and set down a pen and five documents.
Nobody moved. "You will be paid very handsomely for your work here. Anyone who works here will get a very large salary, that is guaranteed." The man said. "You will also be granted full time citizenship within Anibia, and can travel between Anibia and Manholm as much as you like after your work is done. Just as I am."
One by one, the humans signed their documents. This was a greater chance than most humans ever got in their lives. Incredibly lucky. Dr. Hayes signed his name and the document was taken from him.
"Let us begin." Said the man. "My name is Dr. George Afton. I am an Anibian scientist who has been working on possibly the most important experiment in history." Dr. Afton brought out a large leather-bound journal from the briefcase. It had a drawing of what looked like the Earring of Sola on the front. "This is the most valuable thing in Anibia, possibly even greater than our animus powered royal family."
"This journal was written by a certain dragon named Truthseeker. A Nightwing. He was part of a special group that I bet you've never heard of." Dr. Afton said. "He was part of a group called the Travelers, a secretive group that operates all over the world. Even Pyrrhia, and even beyond this world."
Seeing the reactions of the five scientists, Dr. Afton cracked a smile for the first time since Hayes had seen him. "He recorded everything he learned from them, and then brought it to us. A true Anibian."
"Would you like to know what it says?"