'Ignis!' Futch's voice boomed as he gripped tight to Bright's onyx horns. The temperature rose and flames began licking around the dragon's mouth. Futch could hear the usual rumble from within Bright before a stream of intense dragonfire blasted outwards and incinerated the advancing troop of Harmonian soldiers.

Futch could never get used to the putrid smell of death, despite participating in so many wars through the years. He kicked the sides of Bright and screamed 'Volant!'

The huge white dragon stopped its stream of vibrant blue and orange flames and roared as it flapped its wings and ran forward. Soldiers dived out the way of the huge advancing dragon. Within seconds Futch was in the air. He could see the stunned faces of friends and foe below which made him smile momentarily.

Bright flew high into the clouds. Above them other dragons circled, their Knights barking commands. He could see Milia not far ahead preparing to dive down for another attack on the back of the crimson scaled Thrash.

They couldn't fail could they? Futch had never been on the losing side. It had felt hopeless recently though. The Harmonians had been relentless on their advance south, invading with ease. Dunan had hardly put up a fight. They had crossed the Badlands at an impressive speed. Futch had heard rumours that their Rune Mages had used their magic to terraform the wasteland into a lush open grassland to allow for safe passage.

'With me, Knights!' The voice of Milia boomed in the cold air, the Dragon Rune amplifying the command. 'Causam, Dracones!' The Dragons roared, blasting the clouds with their breaths of fire and ice before dive bombing down to the chaos below.

Bright shot down, and Futch clutched tightly around his scaly neck. His eyes watered as they streamlined through the vapour. They broke through at the same time and continued their advance towards Harmonian lines. Arrows whistled by, some scraping harmlessly off Bright's scales. Huge spheres of fire came afterwards from the Mages. Bright swirled to dodge them with ease. Futch looked to the side and seen young Harold blasted from the back of his dragon, Ramses. The Dragon flailed before being hit itself and falling lifelessly. Futch looked away and forward as they neared the target.

'Ignis, Dracones!' Boomed Milia. Even from afar Futch could see the emerald glow around her, the Dragon Rune offering protection to its bearer and dragon. The descending line of dragons all roared before streams of fire and ice erupted from their mouths and carved through the Harmonian soldiers. Screams split the air, as the soldiers burned in their steel armour.

Bright swooped up and around. Futch could see the extent of the battle by Lake Toran. The Harmonians had pushed the Toran forces back to Kwaba. If they failed here, Gregminster would be the last stand.

'Sursum, Bright!' Futch called. The Dragon snorted and begun its accent back above the clouds. How many more losses would it take for Milia to retreat? There was only… Ten?! They had lost fifteen dragons and riders so far. It was only a matter of time.

'Fall back to Gregminster, Knights. Kwaba is lost!' Milia's voice called out, as she burst from the clouds and into the sunshine.

Damn it. It pained him, he wanted to be down there fighting by the side of Camille and Valeria. They couldn't lose all they fought for twenty years ago.

Could they?