Familiar of the Fairy

by Juubi-K

Reconquista is defeated, but dark forces and darker ambitions threaten to plunge Halkeginia into war. Meanwhile, Louise has a plan to get Tiffania away from Saito once and for all; by summoning her Familiar.

19. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Alhambra, Kingdom of Gallia, 8th day of Ansuz

"Hurry! We don't have much time!"

Suleiman drew in a grateful breath as he emerged into the night. He had not much enjoyed scrambling through the dark, dank tunnel, and the light of the moon and starts was a welcome sight.

He glanced around. The desert stretched away around him, marked only by the low hills in the near distance, where the Ostland lay concealed. He glanced back, and saw the great, dark shape of Alhambra looming in the night sky.

If he never saw that place again, he would be quite happy.

"Did everyone make it?" he asked, looking around at his friends. Saito was there, pulling him up by the hand. The Ondine Knights were all there, carrying the still-sleeping figure of Tabitha's mother between them. The girls were all there too; Kirche, and Montmorency, and Siesta, and Alice, and Louise, and Tabitha.

And most importantly, Tiffania.

"You're the last!" Kirche declared. She looked tired, but triumphant. "All right! One last effort, and we'll be on our way home!"

"Thank the Founder for that!" declared Montmorency. "Dancing for drunken soldiers! Getting chased and shot at! And scrabbling through that filthy tunnel! I want a bath!"

Suleiman forced himself not to chuckle. Montmorency was caked in dust and sand, as were they all, from their hurry down the tunnel Verdandi had hastily dug for them. The enormous mole was nearby, being enthusiastically hugged by his – or was it her – master, Guiche de Gramont. They were scorched, scratched, filthy, and weary. But they were alive. And soon they would…

Then he paused, as something…familiar began to nag at him. A vague flicker, a hunch he couldn't put into words. It was as if…there was something nearby.

"Lei?" Tiffania asked, stepping up beside him. "What's wrong?"

"I…I don't know." Suleiman could not explain it, and felt all the worse for that fact. "There's…something here."

"You too?"

"Miss Tiffania?" Suleiman glanced up at the elf-girl, amazed.

"I felt something too," Tiffania went on. She looked unsettled, confused. "Almost like…"

Then she paused, her eyes fixing on something in the darkness. Suleiman followed her line of sight, and felt his blood run cold.

Two dark shapes had emerged from the night. One of them settled to the ground in front of the ramp leading up to Alhambra's gate, while the other began to circle around the fortress; like a vulture waiting for its next meal to die.

"Airships," said Alice grimly. "Those ones Irukuku saw?"

"Kyui!" Irukuku nodded nervously, clutching her hands over her chest. "But the nasty mean Ruin Dragon's gone!"

Suleiman remembered what Malicorne had said; two ships and a black dragon. But as he looked up at Alhambra, he could see no sign of the dragon. What had become of it?

"I'd say…Romalian make," Maxwell commented. "Fast ships. But I can't see any flags."

"All the more reason to go, now!" insisted Kirche. It doesn't look like they've seen us."

But Suleiman could not turn away. He could only stare, eyes straining against the darkness, as a procession of figures emerged from the landed airship. Lights glowed around them, and he could see a figure at the head of the procession.

A figure with silver hair.

(X)

Fernando Sotomayor kept a straight face as he led the way up the ramp. Behind him, the red-clad knights of the Scarlet Tower stretched out in a long line, down to where the Riverenza had landed. They advanced with swords held at en-garde, blades glowing with magic, illuminating their path towards the gate. Directly behind him were Carloman on the right, his enormous zwei-hander held forward in the same manner, and to the left Minerva.

Fernando could not see her. But he knew she had a smile on her face. She knew what was coming.

So then…why did he feel strangely on edge? As if some indefinable instinct was trying to warn him of something?

Before him, a gaggle of guards stood in front of the gate, muskets held at the ready, eyes full of fear. Their green uniforms were stained with desert dust, and what might have been soot. As he drew closer, Fernando could see their bloodshot eyes, how they twitched as they glared.

Rejuvenating potions, perhaps? Had they been dosed in order to deal with whatever had been going on in the fortress when Minerva had passed overhead?

He halted a few mails from the gate, the column behind him doing likewise. He stood still for a few moments, letting his unwilling hosts stew in their own dread a little longer.

"I am Fernando Sotomayor, Grand Master of the Order of the Scarlet Tower," he declared, in his best sermon voice. "I seek audience with the commander of the garrison."

"Why are you here?" demanded one of the guards, an older-looking man with greying hair. "You Romalians have no authority here!"

Fernando heard Carloman bristling behind him. He did not retort that a fair number of his order's members were in fact of Gallian birth. Nor did he intend to do what Carloman doubtless wanted to do. He had no reason to.

"That is why I seek audience with your commander," he said, his tone sweet reason. "Is it possible to speak with him? It seems like you've been having some trouble."

"What do you know of it?" growled the guard, hefting his musket. "Was this your…?"

He fell silent at the sound of shouting echoing through the gatehouse. All at once a portly man pushed his way through the crowd and stepped out in front. He was clad in expensive clothes; or at least they had once been expensive. They looked badly scorched, and Fernando stifled a chuckle when he noticed that the man's eyebrows were missing.

"I am Philippe Montcalme, Baron de Miscoeur." The man identified himself, bowing respectfully. "I have the honour to command the garrison here at Alhambra. May I ask your business here?"

"We were just passing," lied Fernando smoothly. "And we noticed you have some trouble. We thought it proper to offer our assistance."

"Your grace is most kind," replied the Baron. "But that really isn't necessary. We have the matter under control."

"I see." Fernando clasped his hands behind his back, draping his sleeves to hide them from sight. "May I ask what it was?"

"A little trouble with some visitors, your grace." The Baron had managed to fix his face in a look of gentlemanly bonhomie. But Fernando could see the fear behind his eyes. "A group claiming to be travelling entertainers. They tried to infiltrate the keep during their show, but my guards dealt with them."

"Ah, that's good to hear." Fernando fixed his eyes on the older guard from before, and let his power do its work, ever so gently. "From what my scout told me, it seemed as if a furious battle was taking place."

The Baron froze, and Fernando forced himself not to smirk.

"My scout saw something rather strange," he went on, keeping his tone suitably good-natured and friendly. "She claims that there was an elf here. Two of them in fact. And that they were fighting a desperate battle."

The Baron's smile looked increasingly forced.

"Your grace…I can explain…"

Fernando twitched one finger. The guard let out a wail as his body jerked, his musket's muzzle aiming straight at Fernando.

"Don't let me down, Carloman," Fernando thought, as he twitched another finger. The guard cried out as his finger tightened on the trigger, and the flintlock fell. Fernando could see the sparks fly from the frizzen, and the flash of the powder.

And here was Carloman, darting in front of him. The musket fired, and Fernando's heart clenched as the bullet bounced off the younger man's pauldron, the armour glowing as the spells worked into the metal resisted the attack.

The Baron had gone deathly pale, his mouth hanging open. For a few moments he stood, frozen to the spot, then turned around and ran towards the gate, wailing in blind terror.

Fernando stood perfectly still as Minerva darted past him, crimson robes billowing, her lips moving as she levelled her wand. An enormous fireball leapt from its tip, smashing straight into the Baron's retreating back. The Baron screamed as he was hurled forward into the stunned guards, and then all were forced back through the door, shrieking in terror and agony as the fire burned them.

Carloman snapped his head round, his eyes bright with battle-fury, waiting for the word.

"My son," Fernando said. Nothing else needed to be said.

"Brothers!" Carloman roared. "Purify their unclean traitor's nest with flame! Seek them out! Burn them out! Into the Fire!"

"Into the Fire!" roared back the knights. Carloman turned and sprinted towards the door, shoulder-first. Someone inside tried to push the door shut, but Carloman slammed into it, knocking it open and tearing away the frame as he barged through; his armour glowing as its magic fought the protective spells set into the wood. The knights raced in after him, and Fernando could hear the sounds of battle.

Fernando paused a moment, and looked up at the Contrizione. As planned, it had moved in close to the battlements at the opposite end of the fortress, and he could just see the red-robed shapes leaping down from its gunwhales. The garrison didn't stand a chance.

"Can we go, Grand Master?"

Fernando looked, and saw Minerva there, eyes bright with the joy that only fire and destruction could bring her. She was the only one remaining, apart from the four Siphonatores. Fernando smiled, and opened his mouth to grant permission.

And then paused again, as he saw something in the distance. He stared, fixing his eyes on the hills in the near distance, on the shape that was rising up from them.

That feeling again. That strange…niggling.

He looked to Minerva, who was also staring at the distant object. She saw his gaze, and turned to face him.

"Minerva."

Minerva looked up at the sky.

"SCORCHY!" she shrieked, the sound echoing over the desert. Fernando heard the familiar low rumble, and a great black shape detached itself from the Contrizione. It coiled around the fortress' outer wall, and raced towards them. Minerva ran and leapt off the ramp, fell for a few seconds, and then landed on the enormous dragon's back.

Fernando watched as the black dragon winged away into the night, following the distant shape as it accelerated away.

(X)

"Saaaaafe!" Saito breathed as he slumped in the chair. The others were crowding into the Ostland's mess hall, shedding their weapons, heedless of the dirt and soot spreading around them.

The girls had grabbed the other chairs, while the Ondines sat against the wall, and Malicorne took a whole bench to himself. Suleiman slumped by the wall, close to Tiffa.

"Well..." Kirche wiped her brow. "Like Guiche said... that couldn't have gone any better." She panted as she grinned. "A job well done if I do say so myself!"

"Indeed!" declared Guiche, raising his hand with a flourish. "We, the Ondine Knights, have won the day!"

Saito turned to Louise, who had sat down beside him, and patted her on the head.

"Hey," he grinned, giving her a thumbs up. "Good work Louise. I was getting worried back there."

Louise perked up, and her cheeks reddened as she registered his praise. Then she remembered herself, and puffed out her cheeks.

"Naturally." She huffed. "I am a Valliere after all. I have a reputation to uphold!"

But then her eyes softened, and she looked away.

"But…your master appreciates your compliment."

"Heh! You think that bunch of no hopers could stop us?" declared Derflinger, popping up from his scabbard to speak. "We stopped the seventy-five thousand!"

"Indeed." Louise drew herself up, in that puffed up way that made him want to pat her on the head. "I knew you would be all right. Have more faith in your master's judgement in future!"

Saito sighed, smiling. Still his adorably puffed up, preciously proud little master. He had a sudden urge to wrap his arms around her, but resisted it. He was too tired to get exploded.

"We did it, though," Louise went on, brightening a little. "We saved Tabitha, and her mother too. Though…I fear Henrietta will be angry with me."

Her face fell, and a sorrowful mood settled on the room. None of them had wanted to be reminded of what likely awaited them in Tristain.

"At us," insisted Saito, putting his hand on top of hers. "Whatever she doles out, we face it together." He beamed. "And besides, we rescued the Princess and her mother, right? That's got to count for something."

Louise blinked at Saito, then smiled again.

"Are you sure you're all right, Lei?"

Saito looked up to see Tiffania standing over Suleiman, regarding him with obvious concern. For the man who was supposed to be in charge of the entertainment, he had been roughed up quite badly. His clothes were rags, his bare skin bruised and bloodied.

"I'm all right, Miss Tiffania," Suleiman said, smiling, as Tiffania knelt down beside him. He winced, and reached behind his back. "Just a scratch, really."

"Should have saved that healing potion." Montmorency muttered as she looked over to the elf. Tiffania did not reply, but she looked worried.

"What's done is done ladies." Kirche cut through before any spat could begin, kneeling down beside Suleiman and glancing down his back. "Hmm, a bleeder, and a bad one. Down to the infirmary with you, young sir." She turned to Siesta. "Is Tabitha's mother settled?"

"Yes, Miss Zerbst," Siesta replied. "Tabitha is with her, along with Alice, Sylphid, and Maxwell. The other beds are free."

"Tiffa, if you would be so kind."

Kirche and Tiffania helped Suleiman to his feet. Suleiman tried to stand, but his legs wobbled, and both girls had to catch him. Saito bit his lip, fighting down a surge of jealousy. Both ladies were in their dancing costumes, and their bosoms were pressing against Suleiman's arms as they helped him out of room.

"Lei! You get all the luck!"

A growl silenced the jealousy, replacing it with anxiety. He looked around and saw a very annoyed Louise glaring at him, eyebrow twitching, wand at the ready.

Surely she wouldn't! Not on an airship!

"You're lucky we're in company," she growled, and lowered her wand.

"Gotta be more subtle partner." Derflinger. "A glance is fine, but don't linger too long."

"And you're not helping, tool" Louise hissed back at the sword. Saito couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay." Montmorency raised her hands and stretched. "With Colbert at the helm, I think we all deserve some beauty sleep!"

"No kidding. I'm dying for a bath!" Gimli added.

"Alas, this is what it means to be a Knight!" proclaimed Guiche with a flourish. "We must rest even in muddled clothing! But rest assured, for our good deeds and absolute success, a bath awaits us in the near future!"

No one responded. The adrenalin rush had faded.

"Yep," Saito yawned, standing up and stretching. "Louise, let's go to…"

A low, rumbling roar cut through the night. For a few moments they all paused, looking around, wondering what it could be.

Then the Ostland banked hard to the right. Saito let out a yell as he almost fell over. Malicorne shouted and spluttered as he landed flat on his face. All the rest staggered and fell about.

"Partner!" yelled Derflinger. "Trouble!"

"That roar," Saito breathed, as he managed to regain his footing. He had heard it before, at the fortress…

He sprinted out of the mess hall, rounded a corner, and darted up the stairs to the bridge, Louise hot on his heels. Inside, Jean Colbert was bracing himself against the wheel, struggling to turn it with one hand while pulling at levers with the other.

"Professor!" Saito called out, hurrying to his side. "What is it?"

"A dragon, I think!" replied Colbert. Saito could see the sweat on his brow. "It came from behind!"

"I can't see anything!" Louise glanced around, staring through the rounded glass bubble window for any sign of their attacker.

"It's in the clouds to our left," said Colbert, breathing hard as he hauled on the wheel, and the Ostland levelled off. "It'll be upon us at any moment."

Then Saito saw it, a great dark shape banking out of the clouds towards them. Its wings spread out as it levelled off, and Saito gasped as he saw it clearly. An enormous dragon, bigger than any he had ever seen, its scales midnight black, its eyes a nightmare red.

"Hold tight!" Colbert yanked another of his levers as the dragon opened its mouth. The Ostland suddenly dropped, and a gout of flame leapt from the dragon's mouth, flashing straight overhead, so close that the glass above them blackened and bubbled.

"That dragon!" cried Louise, as they levelled off again. "I've never seen anything like it!"

"I've never seen anything like it," mused Colbert, brow furrowing as he worked the levers.

"We saw it before at Alhambra," Saito said, looking up and around for any sign of it. "It must be with those other guys!"

"No time to speculate!" barked Louise. "Professor, have the crew man the guns! We have to fight it off!"

There was a pause.

"Professor?"

"There are no guns, Miss Valliere."

There was another pause.

"What do you mean there are no guns?!" shrieked Louise, a vein on her temple bulging dangerously. "What kind of ship is this?"

"Not a ship of war!" retorted Colbert sternly. "Besides, it can outrun anything!"

"It's not outrunning that thing!" Louise snapped back. "Oh! No time!"

She turned around and darted for the door. Saito ran after her following her down the steps.

"We have to go out there and stop it!" insisted Louise. "It'll come back and…"

"Kyuii! Don't go!"

All at once something wrapped itself around Saito and pinned him to the wall. It was Irukuku, fortunately clad in the oversized shirt and breeches she had borrowed at the fortress. She looked up at him, eyes wide with terror and brimming with tears.

"You can't go!" she wailed. "It'll kill you!"

"Let go of Saito this instant!" snapped Louise, that vein bulging again. Feeling her bosom pressing against his chest, Saito gently pushed the blue-haired girl back.

"Irukuku," he said, gently but firmly. "Tell us what you know. What do you know about that dragon?"

"It's nasty, mean and evil!" replied Irukuku with a sniff. "But not fast! Rhyme dragons are faster! That's how we get away!"

For a moment, Saito wondered what she meant. Then he heard that roar again, and dismissed the thought.

"Come on!" Louise dashed through the doorway and out onto the open deck. The Ostland was going a full speed, and Saito felt the wind buffet him as he followed her out. Tabitha and Kirche soon followed, the Montmorency and the Ondines. Struggling against the wind up as they looked up and around at the night sky. All around, Saito could see the snow-capped peaks of mountains, looming dark and grim.

A flash of light, from behind the Ostland. Saito's heart clenched as he saw the dragon again, breathing a gout of flame straight into the Ostland's starboard engine. The flames washed around, billowing and dancing amid the spinning blades, and for a moment Saito thought it would resist.

But then he heard the crump of something exploding, saw the whoosh of white steam, and flames gouted from every opening. He hoped, desperately, that there was no one inside.

He glanced up at Colbert. The Professor was yanking levers, and the scorched rotors began to slow. He felt the Ostland slow down, and almost jumped as the dragon shot past, coming around in a tight arc. He could see the rider standing on the beast's back, crimson robes billowing in the wind, a free hand aiming what could only have been a wand, the flicker and flash as a fireball took form.

"Explosion!" Louise shrieked, deadly magic leaping from her outstretched wand. In the same instant the fireball loosed, and then detonated as the two magics interacted. The dragon rolled hard over, shielding its rider with its black-scaled belly. The blast washed over Saito and his fellows, hurling them to the deck.

Saito snarled, and pulled himself to his feet as the dragon rolled over an over before righting itself, then came around and flew straight at them, wings flapping hard. As it drew in close, Saito could see the rider clearly. A young woman, one hand holding a heavy chain like a horse's reins, her hair flapping in the wind, her eyes bright with bloodlust.

She thrust out her wand, letting off another fireball. Saito readied to throw himself aside, feeling the heat on his skin. But an icy wind caught it, and the ball erupted, hot air washing over them. Saito looked, and saw that it was Tabitha, her borrowed wand outstretched. Soon Kirche, Montmorency, and the Ondines were doing likewise, loosing fireballs and windbolts in a deadly fusillade as the dragon passed over the deck.

But once again the dragon rolled, and then threw up its wings and fell away, vanishing out of sight. Saito dashed to the gunwhale and looked over. The dragon was a ways off, flapping and twisting in the air as it tried to gain height.

"This one's no slouch!" he yelled.

He found himself remembering his battles in the skies over Tarbes, and over Albion, when he had fought against Albion's dragon knights, and sent so many tumbling to the ground. They had manoeuvred in the air like that, so lightly and easily, but with dragons half that thing's size.

"Get ready!" he called out, as the dragon drew level and turned towards them again. "Here it comes!"

The dragon came on fast, even as the Ostland began heaving to starboard. A volley of wind bolts lanced out, but the dragon twisted in the air, a few hits puffing against its armoured hide. The beast's head dipped, and breathed a gout of flame straight into the Ostland's flank. At the same time, the rider levelled her wand.

"Inferno!" A bolt of dark flame leapt from the wand, racing through the air towards them. Again Tabitha loosed her freezing wind, but the bolt exploded much closer, flinging them all away. Saito felt the heat scorch his skin, and heard his friends cry out in fear and pain.

He looked up, and the dragon was gone; roaring in the night behind the Ostland.

"She's fast!" snarled Kirche. "I couldn't get a spell off!"

"The ship's on fire!" yelled one of the Ondines. Saito looked, and his blood ran cold as he saw the smoke billowing up over the bow, the flames licking up the gunwhale on the port side. Tabitha hurried over, screwing up her eyes against the heat, and set to work with her magic, Montmorency doing likewise.

Saito looked around, looking for something, anything. Tabitha couldn't fight that dragon and stop the ship from burning up. But no one else seemed strong enough.

"Kyui…"

It was Irukuku. She stepped away from the door, and forced herself to walk towards the starboard gunwhale. Saito saw the tears streaming down her face.

"What are you doing!" he yelled, waving at her. "Get back inside! It's dangerous!"

"No! Irukuku!" yelled Louise. But the blue-haired girl did not listen. She only stared up at the sky.

"Irukuku!" This time it was Tabitha. Saito looked at her, and saw, for the first time, fear in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, big sister," said Irukuku, her voice hoarse as if from crying. She turned back to the sky, as the dragon came round again, circling in the near distance, as if weighing up whether to attack again, or just let the Ostland burn.

"Not them!" Irukuku cried, her voice rising to a shrieked. "You won't take them too!"

And then she leapt over the gunwhale.

Saito let out a cry of denial, and threw himself at the gunwhale, the others doing likewise. But too late. He could only look down, not daring to believe, as Irukuku plunged into the darkness.

And then she changed. Saito stared, dumbstruck, as her body turned into light, and grew, and changed.

A cry rang out, a cry he knew well. And a blue-scaled dragon soared away into the sky.

"Sylphid?" Saito could only stare. "No way!"

"Impossible!" Louise gaped like a goldfish. "But she's…"

The black dragon let out a roar; a roar of bloodlust and fury. It turned a tight turn, aiming itself straight at Sylphid. The blue dragon turned lightly, dodging a gout of fire then flapped away hard. The ruin dragon fell in behind, dragon and ride tormenting her with bolts of flame. Sylphid dodged again, and again, but her attackers would give her no respite.

"Leave her alone!" yelled Saito, for all the good it would do. He was powerless! Damn it all! He could do nothing!

"We have to help her!" wailed Louise. She stared after the dragons, her eyes brimming with tears at Sylphid's sacrifice. Saito's heart ached, but there was nothing he could do to help.

Unless…

"Sylphid!" He jumped up and down, having both arms. "Sylphid! Come here!"

"Uh, partner?" Derflinger spoke up. "You got a plan, or did you hit your head?"

"Saito! What are you doing?" demanded Louise. Saito ignored her, and kept on jumping and yelling, praying to any God inclined to listen that Sylphid could hear.

Maybe she had. Sylphid came around, flapping her wings, and sped towards the Ostland. Saito gulped, trying to ignore the cold dread in his stomach.

"Everyone, stay down until that thing gets close, then hit it with all you've got!"

"Saito!" Louise persisted. "Saito, stop ignoring your…!"

Then she trailed off, as Saito kissed her full on the lips.

"Sorry about this," he said. He really couldn't think of anything to say. He glanced at Sylphid, who was closing in fast. He had to time this right.

"Sylphid!" he yelled. "Catch me!"

And with that, he flung himself over the gunwhale. He could hear the cries of his friends, Louise's shrieking his name, as he fell through the freezing air. And then all he could hear was the wind, the wind that buffeted and shoved at him, as he plunged through the darkness.

And Louise, still shrieking his name.

"Please let this work! Please let this work! Please let this work! Please let this work! Please let this work! Please let this work! Please let this work! Please let this work! Please let this work! Please let this work!"

And then, mercifully, he felt Sylphid catch him in her mouth. Sylphid bent her neck, flipping him onto her back. Saito grabbed at the dragon's neck, hanging on for dear life, his heart thundering like a jackhammer, his body icy cold with pure dread.

He had made it.

"Sylphid, great catch! Now let's…!"

"Dog!"

For a moment, Saito couldn't believe what he was hearing. Then he turned, and saw Louise slowly hauling herself along Sylphid's back towards him. She looked murderous.

"You…you idiot!" yelled Saito, stunned disbelief turning to fury. "Stupid, crazy…pettanko! You could've been killed!"

"Don't you dare criticize me!" Louise flung herself at him, beating at him with her fists. "How dare you kiss your master and jump off like that! You could've been killed! You could've been eaten by that dragon! Don't you dare do that again! Don't you dare! Don't you dare!"

Still she beat and pummelled at him, whimpering her rage and pain. Sylphid began to caw in protest. But Saito could see the tears brimming in her eyes. He threw his arms around her, pulling her in close, loving the warmth of her, and hating himself for hurting her like that.

"You can punish me later, my master," he said, as gently as he could manage. "But we have to save the Ostland."

"Uh, partner, do you want the good news, or the bad news?" asked Derflinger, with his usual bad timing. Saito looked up, and saw the black dragon falling in behind them. It was close, and Saito could see the scorching on its belly, the blood running between its scales. The others had hurt it!

Above them, the Ostland flew on, still in the air at least.

"Louise?"

"Later." Louise pulled back, blinking away her tears. "Now, we stop that thing!"

"How?" Saito called back. The Ruin dragon had come about, and was making another pass.

"We'll draw it away from the Ostland! You ride, and I'll cast!"

"Saito nodded. It wasn't the greatest plan ever, but they were out of options. He pressed in his knees, and Sylphid flapped harder in response. Behind them the black dragon loomed closer, its maw open, red light glowing within. The dragon released a gout of flame, as its rider loosed a stream of fire from her wand. Together they came on, closer and closer.

"Explosion!" Louise thrust her wand forward. Her spell caught both fireball and stream, all erupting in a flash of light. Wind lashed about them as Sylphid turned hard towards the black dragon, maybe hoping to slip past before it could loose another fireball.

Saito had an idea.

"Get me right under the belly! I'll gut it!" he yelled

"You'd lose me in the process! You're strong Partner," Derflinger yelled out over the wind racing through his ears. "But as I am now, against Ruin Dragon Scales? Good luck with that!"

"Luck's all we've got! That and this plan!" Saito retorted, drawing the sword and tightening his thighs around Sylphid's long neck. "Sylphid, take us right under its belly!"

The dragon warbled a reply as she beat her wings faster, accelerating towards the Ruin dragon even as its mouth began to glow again.

"Dive!" yelled Saito, heart hammering as Sylphid bent her long back and fell into a dive. Saito felt his stomach fly into his mouth. It was like being on a rollercoaster, only with a giant black dragon trying to flambee him alive. Down and down they went, closer and closer, until they were under the dragon's belly.

Saito roared and thrust Derflinger straight up. But the blade skidded and sparked on the hard scales. His arms recoiled, and he had to fight not to drop Derflinger. He felt something pop in his right arm, and then all he could feel was pain.

They were clear, Sylphid bending her wings to level off. Saito looked down at his right arm, and stifled yell as he tried to move his hand. The wrist was broken for sure.

"What did I tell you!" Derflinger yelled. "Those things are tough!"

"It's a Ruin Dragon! Few things can hurt it!" Louise called out, her voice just visible over the howling wind. Her hair was slick with damp, her eyes bright with fear.

And behind her was the black dragon, coming around for another pass.

"Okay! Plan B!" He looked around, and saw the mountains below. He glanced back at the dragon, and saw the Ostland in the near distance, just visible thanks to the fading glow of the fires.

That was a problem. Without those fires, he wouldn't be able to find the Ostland in the dark. They might not be able to catch up.

He shook his head. Nothing to be done for that.

"They're still after us!" he called out. "They can't let us go, not with your…gnnnhh…!"

The pain drowned his words. If not for the adrenalin pounding through his veins, he would have surely been helpless.

"Just hit it with your magic!" Derflinger added. "It's big and not all that nippy!"

"I can't manage much more!" Louise's eyes were bright, but Saito could tell that she was flagging. "We have to…look out!"

Sylphid heard her cry and dived to the right, dodging a narrow stream of fire that lashed like a snake towards them, coiling and flashing in the night air.

"She's using a whip!?" Saito called out, incredulous. He could see the rider, her crimson robes billowing, her arm rising and falling; in movements that were all too familiar.

"Explosion!" Louis fired off again, the whip vanishing as the spell caught it. Saito felt her arm around his waist, its grip weakening. He had to think of something!

Then he saw it. Below, just visible in the moonlight, a river valley…and a cave mouth.

"Go!" he grabbed at Sylphid's horns, pointing down at the at the cave. "Go! Down there!"

Sylphid seemed to understand. She dipped her head, and began to dive towards the river.

"What is this?" demanded Louise, yelling over his shoulder. Saito clung to the blue dragon's neck, pulling it left and right as she dived, praying that she understood.

She did, for she jinked left and right; a ball of dark fire flashing past on one side, then a jet of bright fire on the other; so close the heat made his skin prickle even through the cold.

No whip. Probably heavy on mana.

They dived faster and faster, the river drawing ever closer; until Saito could see it widen into a small lake just before passing into the cave. As the cold wind stung his hands and face, he turned to yell at the black dragon, diving hard behind them.

"You want us?" he roared, shaking his fist at the horrid beast. "Come and get us!"

Sylphid skimmed over the water, flying so low that the waters parted in bright waves. Saito clenched his teeth; they were flying straight, with a bandit behind!

"Louise!"

She turned, bleary-eyed, as black dragon and red-clad rider readied another attack.

"EXPLOSION!" Her spell flew true, and all three attacks erupted together. Sylphid warbled as the shockwave pushed them down, Saito clinging to her neck for dear life, and Louise clinging to him.

Then all was darkness. They were inside the cave.

The roar of the wind was gone, replaced with the thunder of water. Above him, stalactites glittered in a strange, unnatural light. Saito blinked, then realized that Sylphid was glowing. Was it magic?

He strained his ears, listening for the sound of their enemy, even through the endless echoing of the water, listening for the sound of a crash.

Instead, a low guttering roar.

"Damn!" Saito cursed. His plan had failed. That damn dragon was behind them somewhere. "She just won't quit!"

"Kinda like you, partner," commented Derflinger.

All at once they reached the cave's maw, shooting out into the night sky. Below them, the water gushed down the mountainside, vanishing into a cloud of mist below. He could see the river stretching out, bending gently away into a deep valley, lined with trees.

The moment died as he heard the roar again. Behind them, the black dragon emerged from the cave, thrusting out its nightmare wings and beating hard.

"Get close," Louise croaked, her strength almost gone. "I'll blast him." Her eyes were bright, though her grip around his waist grew slacker still. They had one shot at this. One last shot.

"Sylphid, when I tell you, pull back hard," Saito said. He glanced back, and saw the Ruin dragon drawing closer, eyes bright with bloodlust. Closer and closer, mouth opening to breathe, its rider drawing back her arm, fire-whip coiling and lashing.

"Now!"

Sylphid drew back her wings, slowing almost to a stop, so hard that Saito nearly flew off her back. The black dragon roared in surprise, but too late, as it turned away to avoid smashing into them. As they drew level, Saito saw the black dragon's rider; a young woman with long black hair, eyes wide with what might have been surprise.

Then she moved, thrusting her wand at him, the whip lashing towards him. Saito thrust out Derflinger, and the whip cracked as it struck the blade, bouncing off and coiling like a serpent.

"Explosion!"

The world slowed down. Saito saw the spell hit, heard the Ruin dragon roar in mingled fury and pain, saw the look of horrified disbelief flash over the rider's face as her mount turned hard, tumbling wing over wing as they fell away.

Then he felt the shockwave hit them. He grabbed at Louise, holding her tight even as his one good hand clutched Derflinger, squeezing his knees to stay on Sylphid's back. The blue dragon cried out in pain, flapping desperately as she tried to right herself. Left, right, left again.

They landed. Cold stabbed up from Saito's legs as Sylphid plunged into the water, thrusting down her wings to slow herself. The waves buffeted him, soaking him to the skin, so cold that he barely felt that pain in his wrist. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the end.

And they slowed. And they stopped.

He opened his eyes, tried to look around. His whole body was cold, colder than he could ever remember being; colder even than Albion in the winter.

Sylphid was moving, dragging herself across the riverbed, drawing them out of the river and onto the bank. Saito slid off her back, his strength gone, barely feeling the ground as he landed.

"Saito…" Louise whispered, her eyes half-open. "Are you…"

"I'm alive, Louise," he whispered back, managing a smile. "We're alive. We beat that thing."

Sylphid made a noise he didn't understand, and slowly coiled her body around him, folding in her wings. Saito almost felt like crying. Even then, after everything she had been through, she was trying to keep them warm.

"You're the best, Sylphid," he whispered, reaching up his hand to pat her scaled flank. "You saved us."

He looked up at the sky. It was full of stars, so many of them, so bright and clear. He could see them so well, so much better than back at home.

He knew he had to keep his eyes open, that if he fell asleep he might never wake up. But he knew that he couldn't. He didn't have the strength.

As his eyes slid closed, he saw a shape in the sky above them, and wondered if it was the Ostland.

(X)

The wind whipped around Fernando, his mantle billowing behind him.

From his vantage point on the Contrizione's bow, he scanned his eyes over the landscape.

Still no sign. Many hours had passed since he had sent Minerva and her dragon after the fleeing airship. He had expected to see a burning wreck, and the black dragon circling triumphantly overhead. But for so many hours, nothing at all.

This was becoming a complication. A complication, on a mission that had thus far left him with more questions than answers. Alhambra had been taken easily enough, its drink-addled defenders massacred. Shortly before he left, his knights had begun the work of inventorying the fortress' contents, with useful items to be sent back to the Scarlet Tower, and anything else of value to be sold. He had not made the order powerful by neglecting its finances.

But still he had nothing. No indication of what had been going on there, what secrets the fortress had been hiding. If Minerva had failed, as he increasingly feared that she had, his only chance would be that one mage officer they had found, the one with the broken back. Otherwise...

Otherwise trouble. He had taken a fortress of Gallia by force, slaughtered its garrison, and looted it for good measure. Had Gallia any king other than Joseph, war would be all but guaranteed, and it wasn't a war he was sure he could win; at least not by himself.

He needed evidence. He needed proof of whatever wicked scheme he knew Joseph was cooking up. He needed something the Pope could use to rally the faithful, to raise a mighty crusade against the mad King. He needed...

"Grand Master!"

Fernando turned to see who had called to him. It was one of the lookouts, a telescope in hand.

"Flames on the horizon!" he called out, pointing into the distance. Fernando looked, and saw there was indeed a fiery glow, illuminating the clouds beyond.

"Take us there!" he bellowed, his voice carrying over the wind. The lookout nodded, turned towards the bridge, and began waving his arms in a manner that would be seemed ridiculous, had Fernando not known its meaning. Within a moment, he felt the ship come about, the masts creaking and groaning under the strain, aiming towards the flames.

Fernando clutched the amulet that hung at his throat, praying that Minerva was not dead. She had been a rare find, the talented child of a noble family of Albion, cast out because of her...tendencies. Having a Ruin dragon for her familiar had not helped matters.

So she had come to him. She had pledged to the Order in return for having her crimes dismissed, her sins forgiven, her accusers driven away. She had proven her worth, and risen to become one of his Executors, his elite four, alongside Thibault, Carloman, and Charlotte. She was near-irreplaceable.

Near irreplaceable.

The ship flew on, and Fernando saw the flames. The forests below were on fire, lakes of bright flame spreading ever wider. They would burn and burn until the rains came, or some mage bothered to intervene. Fernando followed the pattern, picturing in his mind's eye the strange ship, slewing through the sky as it dried to evade Scorchy's fire breath. Clearly they had put up a fight, but there was no sign of a wreck, or the dragon?

Who were they? Who could have put up such a fight? Who were the strangers Montcalme had spoken of?

Not Tristain, probably. Their young Queen was too chivalrous, and too cautious. Even Joseph was not insane enough to deliberately sabotage his own plan, unless some other faction was behind it; but then who? Was it that bitter young Duke over in Navarre? Or had the North Parterre revolted at last?

Or...

"Germania..." he mused aloud. He had some evidence to hint at it; namely the dregs in those beer kegs the garrison had been drinking out of. An expensive Germanian beer, which one of his knights reckoned had been made in Anhalt-Zerbst. It was suspicious, but not enough by itself.

Then again, the Schattenschwert might be able to pull off something like this. But then what was their motive?

Could it be...elves?

"Grand Master! Down there!"

It was the lookout again. Fernando looked, and his eyes widened as he saw Scorchy, lying curled up on the bank of a great river; itself fed by a waterfall gushing down from the mountainside.

His mind boggled. Scorchy was down! The black ruin dragon, that had overcome every foe set against it, was down on the ground. And he could see no sign of an airship wreck anywhere nearby.

Had they been defeated? Who were these strange people, to have defeated Minerva and her dragon?

"Set us down!" he ordered. More signing, and then Contrizione began her descent, spiralling gently around to land nearby. Fernando hurried down to the hatch, and was first down as soon as it was lowered, a handful of knights and clerics following on behind.

The dragon looked up as they approached, a low growl grumbling from its throat. He heard his followers pause, his knights reaching for their weapons. A understandable reaction, but quite pointless. If Scorchy was in that foul a mood, no power in the universe could save them there and then.

"Scorchy," he called out, fixing the dragon with his eyes. "Where is your master?"

Scorchy stretched out a little further, baring his fangs as he growled again. Fernando then saw Minerva, lying within his ebony coils. She was alive, but her arm hung at an unnatural angle, and her face was a mask of pain, though her eyes were closed.

"We will help her!" he said, his eyes fixed on the glaring amethyst orbs that sat either side of the long, scaled muzzle. "You must let us have her!"

He nodded sharply to the clerics. They stepped forward, and began carefully easing Minerva out of Scorchy's coils. She let out a moan, and the dragon snarled and snapped, eyes blazing. The clerics froze, and Fernando could hear their chanted prayer. They were at about their limit, and he could not blame them.

"They meant no harm!" he barked, trying to force his will on the beast. "You must trust us, Scorchy! We will save her!"

The dragon glared at him. It despised him, Fernando knew. It despised all other forms of life, perhaps even its own kind. It loved only Minerva, and would suffer no hurt to her. It had protected her with its own body, shielding and warming her. It might just as well kill him on a whim, without Minerva to restrain it.

The dragon snorted, and stood up, stalking towards the waiting Contrizione. As he passed, Fernando saw that it was walking with a limp, and was bleeding through its scales.

Now he wanted to know more than ever. Who or what could have done that to a Ruin dragon?

"We'll help you too," he said, as the beast passed. "Once Minerva is safe."

Scorchy turned his carriage-sized head to regard him through narrow eyes. The look put Fernando in mind of some stuck-up noble glaring down from the safety of his carriage, regarding some particularly ugly and malodorous peasant.

Then it grunted, and continued towards the ship. They would be slowed down with having to carry him, but there was no alternative.

Fernando looked up at the sky, some unanswerable impulse driving him to look, to seek some inspiration, some answer. All he could see was the stars, and the familiar shape of Justizia circling slowly around. Carloman had caught up, fortunately. It was time to head home, and prepare for what was to come.

"Into the fire," he whispered, and clutched his amulet.

(X)

Kingdom of Tristain

The blade hissed as it cut the air.

Majid moved, his scimitar flashing in the sunlight as he shifted from position to position. Upper guard, diagonal left, rear guard, back slash, upper cut, level guard, spinning slash, lower guard. From one to the next, in one sequence, then another. Fluid like water, quick as lightning, light as a falling leaf.

He finished, and straightened up, letting the sweat run down his back, his bare torso cooling in the breeze. A sense of peace, of stillness, settled over him; a feeling he had not felt in some time.

The gardens of the Valliere estate were large and expansive, covering much of the surrounding area. Majid's hosts had allowed him free run of the estate, in return for what they had called a parole; a promise that he would not try to escape, or betray their trust in any way. Majid had been initially uncomfortable with such a promise. The idea that he would attempt treachery while under another's roof was insulting to him, and he was not sure just how long they would require him to remain there. But the fact remained that they had taken him into their home, and nursed him back to health, given him food and shelter, and not simply locked him up downstairs. He could hardly refuse them.

He saw something in the corner of his eye. A quick glance revealed it to be two maids, walking side-by-side, carrying baskets of flowers. They did not stop, but he saw them glancing at him as they gossiped and giggled.

He supposed that was a good thing. It was hardly the first time he had been ogled by young women. And it made a change from the looks of fear and suspicion that had previously come his way; though he still got them from the male servants. And the maids who brought him his meals now seemed awkward rather than afraid. Perhaps they felt bad about him having to eat by himself, but could not do anything about it.

Not that it mattered. Majid was accustomed to dark looks. It was a ghulam's lot, to be feared and suspected, to be regarded as a threat. He was also accustomed to being alone. He had been alone before he met the young master, and his old mentor Silat had taught him to value it. It was easier to be a loner in company, the old warrior had told him, than to be sociable and alone. Loners merely found unwanted company annoying, while the sociable might die of loneliness.

Loneliness.

It came upon him again, the loneliness, and the guilt. His young master was out there, alone, and subject to a strange fate; the fate a birdwoman of the Ardenne had revealed, yet could not describe except in riddles. Yet here he was, in comfortable not-quite-imprisonment, doing nothing.

"What a marvellous display of swordsmanship!"

Majid almost jumped at the voice that disturbed his sad reverie. But he did not, for he knew it well.

He turned, and saw them approaching. In front were two young ladies; one blonde and stern-looking, the other pink-haired and smiling, with two maids in attendance behind. Both he knew, by now; two of the family's three daughters. The blonde was Eleanore, the elder sister, and the other was Cattleya, the middle sister. The younger sister, Louise, he had never met, and he knew what she looked like only from the portraits Cattleya had shown him.

But he had heard plenty about her. Plenty of chatter among the servants, and exasperated ranting from Eleanore, all of which Cattleya laughed off. Apparently Louise was at the centre of these strange events, and this was not in itself unusual.

"My lady." Majid bowed to Eleanore, and then to Cattleya. In Tristain, as in Arysia, the elder sister took precedence.

"Cattleya was just admiring your calinsthenics," Eleanore cut in. "The style is somewhat different to what we are accustomed to, but it is nevertheless interesting."

"I am flattered, my lady." And he supposed he was. But he hadn't expected them to take that much of an interest. He had little doubt that Eleanore could handle herself in a fight, assuming her glare alone didn't send her enemies running for the hills, but there was nothing warlike about her manner of appearance. And he had certainly not thought of Cattleya as having any such interest. Her manner was always gentle, almost motherly.

"It may not seem so, but we are a warlike family," Cattleya said, still smiling. "Our lady mother was a very famous knight of the Manticore Squadron before she married our lord father, and he too saw his fair share of battle; at least when he was younger."

"I understand, my lady."

"In any case, we thought you'd like to hear the news," Cattleya went on. "A letter arrived from our lady mother this morning."

"She has gone in search of Louise and her companions," Eleanore cut in. "With a view to leading them back to Tristain, by hook or by crook."

"But there is better news," Cattleya went on, her eyes twinkling. "Your young master, whom you described? Her Majesty the Queen confirmed that such a person is among Louise's companions."

It was all Majid could do not to fall to his knees. He felt tears prick at his eyes. His young master was alive! And among kind friends! He had not chosen wrong to stay with the Vallieres! He had not failed his young master!

"Too bad he had to go gallivanting off on one of Louise's mad adventures," grumbled Eleanore. "That girl is nothing but trouble!"

"I think its wonderful!" declared Cattleya. "Our brave sister, risking life and limb and name for the sake of her friend! How more like a true knight could she be?"

"She could try not making us worry all the time!" retorted Eleanore, rounding on her sister. "She could come home and get married like she was supposed to!"

"Ah, but you forget." Cattleya was trying very hard not to laugh. "She cannot marry before her elder sister."

Majid stared in mute amazement at Eleanore's reaction. He had seen people lose their temper before, but he had never seen eyes blaze or hair coil quite like that.

"You had to bring it up, didn't you!" shrieked Eleanore. "Yes, it's me! Eleanore de la Valliere, who sends men running for the hills wherever she goes! Whose marriages are forever called off! I'm through with it! I'm sick of men!"

Cattleya giggled as Eleanore slumped, steam rising from her head. A quick glance at the looks on the two maids' faces told Majid that this was all quite normal in the Valliere household.

"Well I suppose the poor fellow didn't have much choice," Cattleya mused. "He was her Familiar, after all."

The word cut through Majid's joy and relief like his own scimitar. Familiar?

"Ah yes, it was in the letter," Cattleya went on, as Eleanore continued to fume. "It seems your friend has been summoned as a Familiar. Strange isn't it, how these things turn out?"

Familiar? His young master was a Familiar?

"My lady…" It was all he could do not to explode. "I thought that Familiars were only animals."

"Not just animals," Eleanore said, having seemingly recovered her composure. "All manner of creatures, some of whom are as intelligent as humans. Though an actual person is…almost unheard-of."

"Don't worry, monsieur Majid," Cattleya went on cheerfully. "I'm sure this can all be sorted out when…!"

"Do not mock me!"

Majid saw the looks on their faces, and knew he had broken every rule of etiquette, but he could not stop himself any more.

"My young master has been enslaved!" he roared. "He has been snatched away by your vile magic, and bound to some brat of a mage!"

"How dare you speak to my sister like that!" bellowed Eleanore. The maids cowered in fear behind her. "Insolent vagabond! You dare to…"

She trailed off, as Cattleya suddenly doubled over, racked with coughing. The maids rushed to catch her, to stop her from falling over.

"Cattleya!" Eleanore rushed to her sister, helping the maids to hold her up. "Cattleya!"

Majid stared in horror, his fury forgotten. To see her in such a state, in such pain, it was…

"I…I'm all right…" Cattleya wheezed, as the coughing stopped. "It's just one of my turns. Nothing to worry about."

Majid tried to think of something to say, but nothing would come. He wanted to ask after her health, but then he saw the look Eleanore was giving him."

"My sister has a weak body!" she snarled, her eyes full of hate. "You fool! Getting her worked up like this!"

"Sister…" groaned Cattleya, straightening up, the maids hovering nearby, clearly worried. "Sister…it's all right."

She looked at him with sad, worried eyes. It was more than Majid could take. He squeezed his eyes shut, but could not stop the tears from flowing. He had let Druj enter his soul and erupt through his voice, and now this had happened.

"A thousand pardons…" he forced himself to say, his voice hoarse. "I should not have…done so wickedly."

He opened his eyes, just in time to see Cattleya step forward. She dabbed at his tears with a handkerchief, as if he were a little boy.

"Don't worry about it," she said, in a tone so sweet he almost started weeping again. "I understand that you're worried. When Louise summoned Saito, I was worried too."

She stepped back, and smiled that smile again.

"But Saito is a wonderful young man, and he'll make a fine husband for Louise."

"Cattleya!" Eleanore was incredulous. "How can you even suggest it? He's an uncouth beast of an aventurier!He tried to seduce me that night!"

"That was a misunderstanding and you know it," replied Cattleya sweetly. "And you know that Louise loves him with all her heart…even if she does express it by blasting him with magic."

Then she saw the look Majid was giving her.

"But that's just Louise. The girl in question is a Miss Tiffania Westwood. Louise tells me that she's a lovely girl, and she and your friend get along famously."

Majid did not reply. He was confused, and still fearful. He wanted to believe that what she said was true, but he had only her word for it."

"In any case, why not join us for lunch and we can discuss it further," offered Cattleya. "You can sit there feeling awkward, and we can explain mother's letter further."

"I…" Majid was caught off-guard.

"Or you can let Eleanore flog the skin from your back," Cattleya suggested, smiling sweetly.

"Promises, promises," growled Eleanore. Majid sighed, the decision made for him.

"I would be honoured, my lady."

(X)

A quick upload, with apologies for the long delay. The next chapter will be uploaded very soon.