Rain raised his golden war horn and blew the call to battle. Across the fields of Orest, other horns, Fey, Celierian, and dahl’reisen alike, blew answering blasts, and the army of Light began to march.

Remembering the speed and distance of the bowcannon that had shot him down over Eld, Rain ordered Steli, Xisanna, and Perahl to stay behind near the healing tents.

“When it is time, pride-kin, you will strike, but you cannot fly against Orest now—not with so many bowcannon trained on the sky. The danger will be great enough when I call upon you.” Grumbling, the tairen acquiesced.

With only Rain flying overhead, the armies of Light advanced upon occupied Orest. He flew back and forth, scorching the field before them to destroy any chemar scattered upon the ground. Their advance was slow, but unhindered, which made him nervous. He expected the dragons to attack. The allies’ own bowcannon were aimed skyward, ready to fire, for just such an event, but instead, the great, scaled creatures retreated from the field, winging away to perch like reptilian vultures on the walls of Orest. No doubt their masters preferred to draw the tairen closer to Orest and the batteries of deadly bowcannon perched on the ramparts before they struck.

The allies were halfway across the field when the first of the black Shadows appeared amongst them.

“Demons!” someone cried.

Fey magic burst forth in powerful, five-fold weaves, shielding the Celierians and plunging into the dark shades of the dead. There were hundreds of them. Thousands. Orest had been conquered, and more than one night had fallen upon the bodies of the Mage-slain, giving the Mages ample time to call and bind the souls of the corpses left littering the field. They appeared amidst the allies, demons of Celierians and Fey, whose slightest touch would drain all Light and life from their victims.

Rain wheeled and dove towards the army, preparing to Change, when the first of the dragons leapt from the ramparts of Orest and headed his way. Six others followed on its tail. So that was the plan. Distract his own cannoneers with demons, then attack Rain undeterred by allied cannon fire.

It was a good plan, but neither Fey nor Tairen Souls were so easy to outwit. Rain soared back up, skyward, spewing flame and roaring a challenge.

«Cannoneers!» he cried. «Look to the skies. Fey, protect the cannons. Air masters! Give those beasts a taste of trouble!»

Howling winds swept across the skies, buffeting the dragons and slinging them across the sky. Rain gave a grim, chuffing laugh and dove after the first of the scaled monsters. The beast saw him coming and trumpeted a challenge, spewing its green-tinged, acid flame. Rain dissolved into the Change, letting both flame and dragon pass through him, then re-formed behind the beast and ripped its back raw with razored claws and breathed tairen fire into the unprotected flesh. As the dragon shrieked and plummeted from the sky, Rain roared in victory and dove after the next.

Standing aboveground, shielded from the sun’s glare by a purple canopy, Vadim Maur had come to watch his great victory unfold with his own eyes. When the Fey had advanced across the field, he’d ordered the dragons back to Orest to draw them closer before releasing the demons and a handful of dragons to thin their ranks.

Now it was time to make them earn each man-length of progress.

“Vargus, tell the Mages to counter the winds! Kron, are the cannoneers ready with Grule’s special bolts?”

“Ready, Master Maur!”

“Then fire at will, Kron. Take the Tairen Soul out of the sky.”

* * *

«Rain! Watch your flank! Incoming from the west and north!»

Rain saw the shadows in the sky, streaking towards him. Bowcannon bolts, six of them, flying much faster than a bowcannon bolt should—just as they had when they’d shot him from the sky. But the Eld didn’t have the element of surprise this time. He pumped his wings and soared high into the sky, well above the bolts’ trajectories.

«Beware, Feyreisen! The scorching things are following you!»

What? He glanced back over his shoulder, and sure enough, the six bolts had changed their flight to mirror his and were still coming strong—straight at him. Rain rolled left, putting on a burst of magic-powered speed. The bolts rolled after him, still gaining. He dove for the battlefield. The bolts dove too. With each passing moment, the distance between then decreased. Left, right, up, down, Rain zigged and zagged across the sky, trying to shake the flaming things off his tail, but they would not be shaken.

He tried burning them out of the sky, wheeling around to face them, flaming them as they raced towards him, then Changing at the last possible instant. The bolts raced through his mist, unharmed by his flame, but the instant he re-formed, they looped back around to come after him.

Krekk. The Eld must have warded the missiles to make them resistant to his flame. He spied a dragon swooping down upon the Fey, and his tairen mouth curled up, baring fangs. Time for a little game of dodge-tairen.

He dove for one of the dragons, spewing fire. Two of its brethren saw his attack and dove after him, coming at him from two sides. Fangs and claws ripped and shredded, wings tangled. Acid fire and tairen flame spewed in fiery maelstrom. And then, as the five bowcannon bolts zoomed close, Rain Changed. The bolts passed harmlessly through his mist and slammed into the three dragons, driving them out of the sky and pinning them to the ground. Rain landed in Fey form beside them, drained of magic and breathing hard. He finished the three dragons off with red Fey’cha.

«Rain!» Ellysetta’s warning shriek sounded in his mind.

He looked up to see the sixth dragon diving in for the kill.