And the great battle begins.

Noxymis pondered the jewel in his hand. It had never changed color before but just the other day it had turned black as night, as if all of the magic and purpose have been banished from the object.

And then it inexplicably returned to normal after a short period.

He was apprehensive about attempting any significant magical feats during this time when the orb went dark. Even a man with the arrogance of Noxymis had twinges of fear. And he was disturbed by the possibility that his greatest weapon was rendered benign. But now that it glowed brilliant blue once again, he was chomping at the bit to test his abilities.

Noxymis in a particularly jaunty mood descended to the royal stables. There were a few horses grazing while many of them were sleeping as it was still early morning. He raised his hand, brandishing the sphere and closed his eyes to focus his thoughts. Within a short time of acquiring the stone from the forest witch, he figured out its potential. Whilst in his grasp, his raw thoughts and instincts were translated into physical reality. He was no longer tied down to the limitations of incantations and waving of a wand.

Nothing was beyond his imagination. And no imagination was more treacherous than his own.

Before his eyes fully focused, he could already see some two dozen horses floating almost to the ceiling. They were panicking; kicking and neighing wildly. Noxymis smiled to himself, proud that he could reduce these beasts of burden to utter confusion.

Demian came running in and immediately halted at the sight of the flying horses without wings.

"My Lord!" he said to Noxymis.

The wizard king turned slightly to the side, barely acknowledging his captain of the guard. Without breaking his own concentration, the horses lowered and were quickly running around still riled up.

"What is it?" he asked of Demian, madly annoyed.

"Sire, there is an army yonder by the foothills."

"Who are they? Reinhart?"

Demian bit his lip, choosing his words with precision.

"My Lord, they wave no flag. But they..." A light went off in Demian's head and he figured the perfect thing to say. "Word of the old king's defeat must have traveled far. Perhaps these men vie for the crown."

Noxymis' eyes widened and he smirked a little.

"If that is the case, Demian; you have men to prepare."

"Yes," he nodded.

"Perfect," he thought. "That had to have stroked his ego and given his prideful self something to focus his attention." If there was one thing that somebody like Noxymis, who only strive for power, is obsessed about: where and when could the next powerful one to challenge him would come from.

Victoria was getting desperate. She had to think of something to get this young dragon to take flight. As she pondered, she began to pace. A screeching sound from above snapped her out of her concentration and made her look upward.

The dragon noticed it, too.

"I think it is your family, little one" Victoria told the creature.

The baby responded with a high pitched sound. Victoria smiled. Finally, it has incentive to leave as much as she did.

Mounting it once more, Victoria gently whispered for the dragon to run and jump, spreading its wings. This time, it wasn't so hell-bent on rejecting his intended equestrian, as it were. Instead, the little dragon ran awkwardly and began to flap its wings.

This went on for about a dozen tries. But Victoria was determined not to give up. It had to make it.

Another attempt from an even longer running start, this time flapping at full might; the beast began to leave the ground for the first time. It gained height quickly; meters upon meters passing by. Victoria held on tightly, nervous that this breakthrough in progress would turn out to be short-lived.

Victoria's stomach dropped when she felt the dragon begin to falter and start descending rapidly. Fortunately, it instinctively reached out with its talons and gripped the rocky walls.

"You can do it," she said firmly but calmly so it wouldn't panic. Deep down she was frightened. If it fell from this height; they both would be dead.

Razor sharp talons dug deep into the rock with a fierce cracking sound. Now that the green dragon was no longer falling down, Victoria could feel her own heartbeat steadying. More confident in its claws, the dragon began climbing the wall with the brown-haired human holding onto his long neck. Climbing the great cavern's walls for what felt like forever; they hit an obstacle. The opening at the top was far from where the wall ended.

The dragon had to leap off and make another attempt to fly in order to reach it.

Seeing it turning its neck sideways toward the daylight and the wings beginning to spread again; Victoria closed her eyes and said a small prayer to herself and held tightly.

"MEN FOLLOW ME!"

Clios' voice bellowed throughout the base camp and within moments, dozens of willing fighters were behind him.

"Do you think this will work?" inquired Beckett.

Clios looked behind him at the man with long black hair and smirked.

"Have you any doubt that we will win the day?"

Beckett shook his head, "No. I know we will be victorious. I only hope that we retain the element of surprise."

"It would help."

"We do not need it, brother" Beckett smiled. "The element of surprise is not for his sake. But for our own amusement."

The general let out a hearty laugh and slapped Beckett on the shoulder.

"I like you," Clios said. "You are alright...for a Reinhartan."

Focusing on the horizon, he could see a shadow cross the land before the grand castle. But Clios knew it wasn't truly a shadow. It was the king's men led by his brother. Demian held his sword high, capturing the sun's light in his shiny blade. The signal crossed the half mile to his eyes. He held his sword in kind to show that he had seen it and is ready to march forward.

"It is time," he said to himself.

Clios sped forth on his steed. Beckett and the rest of the company raced to keep up to their fearless leader. The dark shapes grew larger and larger, until they started to form as human figures. The change was swift because they were charging in the opposite direction almost just as fast.

Noxymis had a preferred view from the vantage of the main balcony, which led out of the throne room. About half a mile away, he saw the marauding army emerge. He eagerly anticipated the point where they would converge.

"They will fall, the fools. All of them."

Rob shot an arrow toward the south wall of the castle. Attached was a rope. The projectile struck its target and much to Rob's relief, the rope they had brought along was long enough. He made sure, with Catherine's aid, to make the knot good and strong. They had to risk leaving their only rope tied to this tree. It would support their weight as well as serve for a quick retreat if forced to flee prematurely from the fortress.

They started climbing the diagonal rope, Trina first with Catherine and Rob respectively right behind her. Rob recommended he be on the end in case the rope gave way and he would have to improvise with a carefully placed arrow. Or two. He was quite swift under pressure.

Trina could sense her jewel's presence; it was unmistakable. She had lost this feeling of proximity since Noxymis had vanished with it in his clutches. There was something about the energy she had felt - emanating from the jewel - that she could not put her finger on.

Something was different. And she did not know what that meant.

Have to be ready for the worst, she thought.