WOOHOO! Got in just in time! I'm terribly sorry, my dear readers, but I started a Percy Jackson fic (no idea when it'll be up) with my dear friend Myseybee (yes, you may recognise 'Mysey' - it's same person I shamelessly advertise the etsy shop of) (check her out if you're in the PJO fandom - good stuff) and completely forgot about this. Luckily, I remembered just before my guarantee of "upload in the first week of each month" ran out, so I'm still on track!

This one includes a long-awaited return for some, possibly my favourite flashback section and good ol' Gangrel being a conniving little prankster! Lovely, juicy stuff!

As always , please review (seriously guys, LITERALLY ANYTHING will do in a review; any tiny little thing you liked or didn't - that's why I'm HERE) and enjoy the read.

Chapter 5: Daughter to Dragons, Son to Rabbits

Nah woke up, her predatory instincts instantly rousing her to full awareness. She looked around the empty grey room, trying to find any clue as to why she was so suddenly awoken.

'Yarne.' she whispered, gently shaking the sleeping taguel. 'Yarne!'

He shot up, running on all fours, untransformed, ten metres from Nah before turning back with a terrified look on his face.

'Get back here ,Yarne.'

'Why did you have to scare me like that?' he asked, shivering slightly as he plodded back to the young manakete.

'Because I think there might be something here.'

Yarne yelped as he swiped the air behind him with a suddenly transformed paw.

'Don't lash out at thin air, you idiot. And keep your voice down.'

'Let's just go. You were right; this place is giving me the creeps.'

'Come on, then.' Nah moved back to the main door they had entered the building by.

Still looking deeper into the building, she turned the large metal handle as slowly and quietly as possible. She inched the door open, but it creaked loudly despite her efforts. Heavy breathing flowed through the doorway.

'Stop breathing so loud. It's creeping me out, Nah!'

'That isn't you?'

'What? No. We're light breathers, us taguel.'

Nah turned to the door. A pair of red glowing eyes shone through the darkness on the other side. The owner of the eyes bolted towards Nah and she screamed, slamming the door shut. Yarne panicked and turned, cowering behind the girl.

'What was out there?'

'I don't know, but it definitely wasn't the outside.'

'B-but that's the door we came in by.'

'I know that's the door we came in by!'

'What's going on then?'

'I don't know what's going on!' Nah yelled.

The door, which Nah was still holding shut, flew open, sending both of the children to the floor. Nah reacted quickly, diving into her bag and latching onto the stone. She sat upright as her head and neck grew and elongated. Her skin hardened and scales formed. Teeth sharpened and more sprouted through the extra gum room that came as her mouth adjusted to fit her shifting face.

Her neck stretched and the scales extended down it. Her insides became fireproof as her fire-sac formed near her lungs. Within a second, a fully formed red dragon's head and neck had replaced her usual visage. White flames threw themselves from her mouth, bathing the room in a light that enabled Yarne to confirm it was the same one they had deigned to rest in.

Nah returned to human form, shaking her head slightly as it finished its transformation. Sitting in place of the flames was a pile of black ash and fog characteristic of a dead Risen.

'This is definitely the place we decided to sleep in...' Yarne mused, still staring around the room.

'Risen?'

'What!? Where!?' He was up in a flash, arms half-poised to defend himself.

'The dead one! There.' Nah, still sitting down, pointed at the black grog on the floor.

'Oh. Oh, that's okay, then.' He started to relax.

'But... how are they here? They didn't come until about four or five years before Grima's arrival. If the Failsafe worked properly, we should be fifteen to twenty years before that.'

'What if there are more of them?'

'If they're anything like the ones we've faced before... then we're dead.'

'That may not be the best choice of words, given my... nervous disposition.'

'You mean the one where you run from anything that might give you a slight bruise?'

'I have every right to avoid things that might kill me: do you want to be the one people blame for killing off the last of the taguel?'

'Yes, yes, yes. We've all heard it a million times before. Now come on. We won't find an exit by standing around here all day.'

'Chop chop; get this last crate on board.'

A tall, reasonably muscular man was hurrying his family into loading the cart. A warning had arrived from Ylisstol about the strange creatures that now roamed the lands. These "Risen" had never caused much trouble and certainly none which wasn't easily handled by the family's resident guard dragon.

This warning, though, implied that things were about to become a lot more difficult; they would act more strategically, becoming stronger and more numerous. Apparently, even fully-trained soldiers were beginning to take heavy casualties against some packs.

'Where is that mongrel girl of ours?' the child said arrogantly as he helped set down the last of their essential belongings.

His mother climbed into the cart after him as her husband moved to the driving seat.

'Never mind. She was supposed to be here and she isn't. Besides, she can fend for herself; we need to get moving now if we've any hope of reaching Ylisstol by nightfall.'

The horses pulled the cart away, its inhabitants abandoning the child they had been charged with caring for.

She fought on. No-one knew what drove her. In truth, even she couldn't fathom why she didn't just leave them to die. Love, loyalty, respect; none of those existed in her heart for these people. None of them saw her as anything more than an unwanted house pet.

It wasn't as if her parents could be proud of her; they'd both been killed by one of her father's more disagreeable "former employers". She'd never known either of them. Nevertheless, she fought on. Risen axes and swords had cut her all across her body, wounds lacerating her scaly hide.

In dragonform, the young manakete was more than a match for any one Risen, but their sudden leap in military intelligence had her both off guard and tactically disadvantaged.

Her fiery breath cut down swathes of the undead, but she knew they would eventually be replaced by more. Whether that would be today, tomorrow or next year she did not know. Maybe that was it: how many would it take before she finally just died? Whatever life, or even lack thereof, awaited her after this could only be an improvement.

She grasped the last Risen, an archer who had been sticking arrows in her throughout the battle, in her jaws and slammed him into the earth. She crushed him with both teeth and claws, trying to mutilate the body as much as possible before it dissolved.

Nah transformed back to her human form. Just as well, she supposed; the dragonstone was nearly depleted anyway. She turned back to the village she had tirelessly defended, the way littered with scorch marks and the corpses of soldiers who had acted as her backup. The black fog from countless Risen rolled over the hill upon which the settlement was perched. She hobbled back to the building that provided her with food and warmth, hoping she had earned tonight's dinner.

Upon entrance to the house, she noticed something very strange. She couldn't smell food in the dining room, nor in the kitchen. She couldn't even smell that scent she had learned to despise: the stench of the family who had lived there with her, pretending to care whether she lived or died.

Had they gone? Had that letter from Ylisstol truly frightened them into fleeing? After a minute's investigation, she also discovered that very little remained in the way of belongings. Food was gone, along with clothes, family heirlooms, and even the apparently "secret" stash of money they kept in the master bedroom. They would probably have taken her ring, too, if it weren't permanently kept in her brown leather bag. Thieves, the lot of them; even that pompous son of theirs.

They really did care nothing for her. Of course, they kept her around when it was useful: when their lives were in danger without her. Now that they were moving to Ylisstol, though, there was no need for her protection. They didn't even need to tell her they were going. They could just leave her to die at the fetid hands of the Risen.

As the years of torment bore down on her, compacted by the epiphany of her "family's" negligence, she finally snapped. The dragonstone was still in her hand as she swung an arm at the wall. Her hand grew claws and scales before slamming into it, ripping a chunk of wood out and throwing it into the wall opposite. She whipped around on the spot, a spike-tipped tail sprouting and shredding through a large wooden desk they had left behind.

Her head changed as she breathed fire, arcing the blast area across the ceiling. Roaring in pain and frustration, she punched the wall, before returning fully to human form and falling to the floor, crying and still bleeding from the Risen attack. She finally realized why she put up with everything they subjected her to.

No... I don't want to be... alone...

'Yarne! Stop running ahead. You don't know what's out there!'

'It can't be worse than what's behind us.'

Yarne yelped and swiped a claw at a Risen who had jumped out at him, decapitating it instantly. Nah grew a pair of small red wings and propelled herself along the hallway, narrowly avoiding an arrow, which instead ended up bouncing off the wall at the far end. She'd picked up the first torch they'd come across and lit it with her fire. Once she had caught up to Yarne in the next room, she slammed the door shut.

They'd soon realized that closed doors could randomly change the room they connected to, but there hadn't been any way they could tell if or when this happened. Sometimes, even whole sections of wall would crumble or reassemble, which had already once allowed a last-minute escape.

'We've got to stick together!' Nah ordered, grabbing Yarne's arm. He yelped again and wrenched himself out of her grip.

'Don't grab me like that.'

'Don't run off! We can't just run around aimlessly until maybe we find the exit.'

'What else do you suggest? It's not like we've got a map.'

The door to their left swung open, revealing a group of Risen axemen. Nah moved out of the way of the lead one, who headed straight for Yarne. She slammed the door, hoping it would send the others to some other area of the building. Yarne had slashed across the Risen's chest, killing it.

'That was easy.' he panted.

'I've noticed that too. They haven't been this easy to kill since they first started appearing.'

'So maybe we have been sent back, just not as far as we thought we had.'

'As I was going to say: this building was one storey tall, wasn't it?'

'Your point being?'

'Up and out.'

Without waiting for a response, Nah transformed the upper half of her body. Instead of simply breathing fire, she prepared an explosive ball of flames in her mouth. She fired the sphere at the centre of the room's ceiling as Risen poured in from two doors on the other side of the room.

The explosion that followed destroyed part of the roof as well as the upper parts of a stone pillar. It set off a chain reaction, more and more of the room crumbling to rubble.

'Grab on!' Nah yelled over the din of the destruction.

'Are you sure you can carry me?'

Nah fully transformed and grabbed a struggling Yarne by the waist, dropping the flaming torch. She took off, flying straight for the hole she had made in the ceiling. As parts of it broke off, she would swerve around it or shrink the occasional limb to prevent it from being slammed into. An arrow struck her tail as she cleared the roof, breaking into the blue morning skies.

Still squirming, Yarne watched as the entire temple degraded to rubble. It was obvious that Nah's fireball could never have brought down the building by itself; it had to be some sort of unnatural reaction to breaking the illusion inside.

Now that the sun allowed them to see properly and with her new height advantage, Nah could see a small town only miles away, easily achievable within the hour in her transformed state. She decided the dragonstone had enough energy left to use it for the flight.

'Yarne, stop fidgeting! I'm going to drop you if you don't.'

'It's not exactly comfortable down here. Not to mention your claws keep digging into me.'

Sighing, Nah dropped down into the murky swamp, deliberately dropping Yarne face-first into the mud. She transformed back to human form, wincing as the arrow was forced out of her tail. Yarne spat and retched, clearing as much mud as he could from his mouth as he slowly struggled to his feet.

'Urgh! You didn't have to drop me straight in the mud. That's horrible!'

'Would you please stop complaining? I got us out of that death-trap, didn't I? Plus, I saw a village not far from here. I could have us there in no time if you would co-operate for once.'

'You could've said! Can I at least sit on your back, rather than in your claws?'

'I'm not some common pegasus you can just saddle up! You'll fly how I like it!'

'Ugh... fine. How do you want to fly?'

Nah opened her mouth before realising Yarne's suggestion was probably more comfortable anyway. She glared at Yarne and spoke next through gritted teeth. 'Get on. And shut up.' She reached once more for her dragonstone.

Brady was watching the battle unfold from the relative safety of the back lines. The wall's collapse had nearly flattened the entire group of priests and clerics, though, and now only he and a few others were left to heal the swathes of injured demanding healing.

'Hey! Priesty McHoly!' He called to the newly-appointed leading priest from his slightly-above-ground-level perch.

The priest turned to Brady, fear in his eyes. 'Wh-what?'

'Do any o' you guys have a warp head on ya?'

The priest fiddled with the collection of staff heads on the chain around his neck, checking for any warps. 'Uhh... I-I have one. Why?' The priest cowered away from Brady's scarred face.

'I'm no expert, but I don't reckon we got that much hope left o' winning this here battle. We're short on healers an' they got more soldiers'n I care to count.'

'You can't leave us!'

Brady cracked his staff on the rock, using the psychic setting to heal a man near the front. 'Look, Candy Cane, if I wanted to leave, I could'a jus' warped meself out. I need more warp heads if I'm going to get everyone back to the palace.'

'What?' The priest began healing a soldier at his feet. 'The palace? But they'll overrun the city!'

'You really think they gonna risk staying for longer than they hafta? They know the Shepherds're out an' they're makin' the best of it. They want Emmeryn and they won't get her if we defend the palace! We got no chance out here in the open, but we might hold 'em off long enough in a confined space.'

The priest surveyed the scene again before turning to his churchly host.

Gangrel laughed as he fired another bolt of thunder magic from his Levin sword, blasting an unsuspecting Ylissean soldier in the chest. A flash of gold and blue caught his eye and he turned to see a woman clad in blue leather armour fending off three of his soldiers. The golden metal of her sword shone in the sunlight.

'Falchion? Oh, now that is interesting.' He darted over to the duel as Lucina killed another of his soldiers. 'Everybody stand back!' Gangrel's soldiers made way for their leader to walk through. 'This little lady's mine.'

Lucina ignored Gangrel's request and sliced down the back of one of the retreating soldiers, much to the small crowd's outrage. The Plegians forged ahead, gradually encircling the princess in a sea of red and black armour.

'Who, pray tell, are you, who wields the holy Falchion so gracefully?'

Lucina could see she had no choice but to accept the Mad King's challenge, but made an effort to delay the fight. 'Gangrel, the Mad King; I have heard many stories of your... exploits, shall we say?'

Gangrel chuckled at her choice of words. He could not resist the chance to taunt his victim. 'Well, some of my exploits are rather memorable; something which cannot be said of yourself, for I have no memory of a blue-haired maiden who fights with the most precious treasure of House Ylisse.'

'Nor, if you continue down this road, will you have much time to remember me for. I offer you the choice to retract your challenge, before I make you beg for the chance to choose again.'

'Oho! If we haven't got a mouth and a half on this one! Be careful what you say, lest I end up denying you a painless and honourable death.' The king's smile grew.

'I can't fathom why you would act so confident. You are not half the fighter that any one of your men is, and I managed to hold my own against three of them. Perhaps you truly are as mad as they say.'

'Oh, I may be the lesser swordsman, but are you aware of the title I held before I became king? They called me the Trickster, and for good reason. You'll need more than technique to put me down, girl. Now raise your sword; we fight to the death.'

Lucina tightened her grip on the shield and raised Falchion at Gangrel. The king simply stepped forward, and Lucina swung her shield arm at him. The circle of metal and wood flew towards Gangrel, and would have hit him squarely on the jaw, but he sliced across the air before him, sending a lightning bolt into the missile, shattering it. Lucina hesitated in her charge, still metres from him.

'Trick one.' Gangrel swung again, but Lucina dived out of the way of the incoming magic blast and managed to close the gap between them before he could repeat it.

Swords clashed and Gangrel was forced back, both in order to create space and from the sheer force with which Lucina struck. The Levin sword's jagged edge made it easy for her to manipulate his stance, and she forced the blades done before sending a fist into her adversary's throat. Gangrel crumpled, but changed his grip on the sword and stabbed it downwards, into the earth.

A blue orb glowed in the hilt of the sword and Gangrel disappeared in a burst of yellow light. Lucina spun frantically, searching for wherever he had warped to. He appeared on the opposite end of their arena, where she had started.

'Trick two.' he gloated.

Gangrel slashed the air again, sending another bolt against her, but she had predicted it and was able to raise her sword in time, blocking the magic. She ran to Gangrel a second time, sticking close to the Plegian wall. When she next saw Gangrel move to strike her, she abruptly changed direction into the nearest soldier and put herself between the man and his shield. Wooden shards exploded over her, but the metal rim was largely intact.

The Plegian was so surprised at the invasion of his personal space, he put up no resistance when Lucina pulled his broken shield form his arm and threw it at the king. He blasted it again, but now Lucina was close enough to return to a regular swordfight. Gangrel locked his blade with hers, keeping the metals against each other. The Levin sword flashed, an electric current coursing through the swords and leaping across the air to Lucina.

Lucina cried out and fell to the floor, Gangrel hovering over her. He walked around her and kicked her onto her front, goading the crowd into a cheer.

'Trick three. You know, I like you. You're a mysterious woman and a good fighter. I'll let you keep your life for a while; at least until I learn a little more about who you are... or get bored of you; whichever come first.'

Lucina fought back the pain and turned onto her back, staring into the Trickster's eyes. 'That's your mistake... letting me live.' She took another breath before beginning her next sentence. 'Tell me, what do you see when you look past this crowd at that wall?'

Gangrel glanced up, drinking in the pride he felt at the nearly complete destruction of the Ylissean wall. Lucina lunged forward, grabbing the Levin sword and stabbing it into the dirt. What little magic she had from her mother was enough to activate the staff, but Gangrel's was needed to warp them more than a few centimetres. Having him concentrate on the wall hopefully meant that they would end up there, but she couldn't be sure what she would see once the yellow light cleared.

'Severa! Get Laurent back to safety!'

As she hoisted the unconscious mage onto her back, Severa couldn't help but recognise that, despite his claims to the contrary, Gerome really was a natural leader, perhaps almost a rival for Lucina.

'Gods, man, those books you carry with you sure weigh a lot, don't they?' Running while trying to keep him balanced on her shoulder was a difficult task, but she soon made it back to Brady and the priests.

'Gods, Severa, what did you do to him this time?' Brady hobbled down from his perch, having affixed all the warp staff heads into various extra slots on his staff. It now looked more like a set of musical bells than a magic staff, but it was good enough.

'I didn't do anything, wisecrack! He blew up those catapult whatsits and just fell asleep, the lazy dastard!'

'Well, then do somethin' useful and tell Gerome to get e'eryone to fall back 'ere.'

Severa would normally have argued, but even she could see the battle was lost. She reluctantly nodded at Brady before running off again. Minerva pulled a wyvern to the ground just in front of her and she had to skirt around the battling reptiles. Minerva clamped down on her foe's neck and Severa whistled to her. The beast lumbered over and followed Severa's finger to a small crowd of Plegians that had made it past the front line.

'Hey, Gerome! That pet of yours isn't half bad. I think she's warming to me!'

The rider hacked his axe at a confused Plegian archer. The two pegasus company leaders were fighting alongside Gerome, the elder one now without her steed.

'That isn't important, Severa!' Gerome snapped back.

Severa blocked a sword swing with her shield and sliced the neck of the offending party. 'Brady says to fall back!' she shouted above the din. 'He's got some idea cooked up in that old brain of his.'

Gerome surveyed the scene once more, before coming to the same conclusion. 'Get everyone back!' he called out to the remaining men surrounding him.

The message spread fast enough and soon the Ylisseans were in full retreat. The commanding pegasus knight turned to her young subordinate. 'Go! Fly to the eastern palace! Tell Captain Phila what happened here.'

The red-headed girl looked horrified at the command. 'I can't abandon you! If everyone else is staying, so am I!'

'Cordelia!' The use of her actual name, rather than the term they had so often used to describe her, made the woman realise how strongly the order was meant. 'Get out of here!'

Severa felt a sense of pride that her mother had clearly not been one for strict rules either, but the pang of guilt followed. She couldn't help patting her mother's arm before she took flight. 'Good luck! Look out for arrows!'

Cordelia was clearly confused by the apparent stranger's concern. 'I...thank you?'

Gerome shot Severa a scolding glare, which she dismissed. The last dregs of the Ylissean army made it back to the wall as Cordelia cleared the first buildings of the city beyond it. Minerva blasted fire into the oncoming Plegians, giving Kjelle time to order the other armoured knights into a defensive wall.

'Everyone in?' Brady called to Gerome from his rock.

'Do you have Laurent?'

'He's fine; asleep is all.'

'Then do what you have to.'

A yellow flash of light shone out from the middle of the Ylissean crowd. Lucina and Gangrel appeared out of it, Lucina clearly injured and sitting on the floor holding Gangrel's sword.

Gangrel recoiled from the princess, pulling the sword from her grip. 'Oh, you clever girl! I do so hope we meet again.'

'Now, Brady!' Gerome ordered.

Both priest and Trickster slammed their staves into the floor at the same time. Enormous amounts of warp energy released from the staff heads, shrouding the entire Ylissean army in yellow light.

Gangrel materialised back with his army, a few stragglers tagging along with him, including the Pegasus captain. He took the liberty of executing her himself, but left the others to his underlings. Aversa found him in the crowd, the soldiers separating themselves to clear her path.

'My king... I did try to warn you of the dangers you place yourself in.'

Gangrel laughed as he withdrew his sword from the Ylissean's skull. 'My dear Aversa, I was never in any danger. That woman is capable of some fancy swordplay, but I never play fair enough for that to matter. She is an interesting one, though. Why does she carry Falchion, yet my memory insists that only that dastard prince ever does? So many questions and so little time. Never mind; I suppose I'll see her again soon enough.' He turned to the soldiers. 'Everyone! We make for Ylisstol's royal palace! Emmeryn dines in Plegia tonight!'

Sand buffeted the army. Many could barely talk for the sand in their mouths and few could stand properly wearing their armour in the sand. Lucina fell over once more as the dust blinded her. Laurent was nearly buried in the desert and Gerome had to pull him out of the dune they had found themselves in.

'Brady!' he shouted above the noise of the wind. 'Where the hell are we?'

'How do I know? That bloody king o' theirs messed up me warp with that damned sword.'

'Gods damn it! Do you have enough energy to get us back?'

Brady looked at his staff, the ostentatious collection of heads now mostly dim. Some had cracked from the release of so much staff magic and others had simply been drained. Only Brady's own staff head seemed to be undamaged.

'Sorry. It don't look like we got enough energy for more than a single person warp.'

Lucina found her way towards them. 'What's up? Where are we?' she shouted.

'Gangrel screwed me warp over and we can't get back. Any suggestions?'

Lucina looked around the seemingly endless desert, noting the darkening skies. 'Plegia's the only country I know with a desert, but we could be anywhere within Plegia. We need to find somewhere to spend the night and compile our supplies.'

'Do we got any water? Me throat's already dry's a bone.'

'We'll sort water once we're out of the sandstorm.' She turned to one of the Ylissean mages. 'Excuse me, do you think your magic could use our shields, armour and cloaks to build some sort of shelter for the night?'

'I won't make any promises. You might be better off finding a half-decent builder among us, but we can certainly try.'

'Spread the word. Anyone who can help is a plus.' She turned back to her friends, taking Laurent off of Gerome. 'Get everyone to give any armour, shields and cloaks to the mages. Brady, what can you do for Laurent?'

'He exhausted 'is magic supply. Unless 'e's been hidin' some weird illness from us, 'e should be better all on 'is own soon enough. Desert can't be good, though; get 'im inside soon as the tent's up.'

There we go! This entire chapter spat itself out immediately after I finished the last one, so I've had a good while to check it through, but I'm always open to criticism. Let me know what you thought. I'm particularly happy with the ending line of the flashback (I FEAST ON YOUR TEARS, THOSE WHO PLAYED SHADOW DRAGON).

Next chapter will be up in February, and I have literally nothing planned for it so far. We see how it goes, shall we?

Have a nice day,

TRN