Feathered Hearts - Continuation and Chronicles

Battlestar Galactica Season 2 Soundtrack: 17 - Prelude To War

As her improvised century and a half of mixed human, griffon and ibexian soldiers scrambled to carry out her orders and ready themselves for battle, Gilda reflected ruefully that another lesson of command she was quickly coming to learn was that just because she gave orders, that did not mean that they could or would be quickly carried out.

She and Giraldi spent the next twenty minutes overflying their chosen battlefield trying to get their defense set as per her instructions, working out combined chains of command with Imlay and the dragons and passing out radios while arguing with the Knights and Talons as to the best locations for weapons and soldier emplacement.

The latter was rendered doubly difficult at first when her ranking Wind Knight—a newly promoted First Spear named Amans Ubera oversaw their reinforced Turma instead of a Decurion, while the Talons at least had a veteran Senior Spear in command along with two First Spears and one Second to lead their Turmas—scoffed at the potential power of human cannons. He claimed their rate of fire would be “too slow to be worthwhile” and their soldiers “should just stay inside the caves.”

In no mood for backtalk, she told him to shut his beak and obey orders. But in a potential challenge to her authority, he then loudly questioned the worth of having humans in Talon trenches where they would only “be in the way.” He was swiftly silenced when Imlay authorized one of his three-Marine fire teams, which included his squad’s SAW, to fire downslope and ‘cut loose’ against a small section of the treeline.

Though warned to cover his ears, the First Spear pointedly did not, only to flinch when the human guns opened up with the same series of earsplitting cracks that had stunned her when she first heard them.

The three Marines targeted a small tree, and in the space of seconds, nearly cut it in two at the trunk. Its support severed, it fell over with a sound of splintering wood and a heavy thump, after which the only sound was silence as even the animals around them had fallen quiet at the very loud and destructive display.

“Satisfied, First Spear?” Gilda asked him mildly, to which he didn’t answer directly but instead suggested that each of the Talon Turmas be supported by at least two Marines plus their heavier cannons. He further recommended that his Knights not only defend the plateau, but if a retreat was necessary, block the cave opening as they had just enough force to form a shieldwall covering the entrance to the old hive.

Gilda had no idea how he thought a shieldwall of only twenty Fortis Knights would do much, but she didn’t bother explaining that, instead denying the request while ordering the Ravens to set charges inside the cave opening and give her the crystal to detonate them. If they had to retreat inside it, she would blow the entrance herself and they would then retreat chamber by chamber if the Cloven broke in, forcing them to fight through every chokepoint the old maze-like hive had.

He fell silent after that, while Ebon Umbreon advised Senior Spear Miles Fortuna of what he’d learned in battle against the Cloven soldier forms. Despite his barely balmed burns and only partially repaired lung damage, he said he was at least fit to fight from a prepared position, volunteering to protect a human sharpshooter on high ground.

That sharpshooter, or ‘Marksman’ as the Marines called them, was Lance Corporal Henderson, who produced her EMR again. She would serve the same role as the three earth griffon Ravens firing bowcasters from a hastily excavated ‘foxhole’, as the Marines curiously called their dug-out positions. But instead of being protected at close range by a Marine rifle, the male Raven’s repeater would shield her from flyer attacks and also provide a means of rapid escape should the position become endangered or they had to otherwise retreat inside the old hive.

The sole uninjured member of his team, Second Scimitar Serpens Oculus, was assigned to help cover the skylights. She was also given the task of destroying them if the pressure got too great, backing Fortrakt’s remaining thirteen flyers who would provide close defense of the upper slopes.

In the end, she’d had to at least partially compromise her original plan, placing the two Talon Turmas at the edge of the plateau—all it realistically had room for—while using the third to cover the rear of the hill and prevent any attempt to flank its forward defenders. She wasn’t too worried about it given its slope was not only steeper, but lacking openings and flat areas, it would be difficult to use for an attack and Cloven ground forces would be at a sharp disadvantage there.

Difficult but not impossible, so at Giraldi’s suggestion, they left the lower half of the slope unburned. That way, the dragon females could incinerate it if the Cloven tried to charge through it, bathing them in inescapable flames.

The drakinas themselves were impatient to begin the battle, chafing at being held back while waiting for Cloven columns to appear. They were also unhappy at having to hide in the woods while the Ravens easily took out the few initial flyers that approached, claiming that their tough hides were nearly immune to fired spikes and they could kill the razorbat Cloven forms quite easily with their talons alone.

But Gilda emphatically told them no, informing Obsidian Ire in no uncertain terms that the four of them were to wait in the woods with the Ravens and keep watching the approaches, ready to ambush and help grind down the Cloven ground columns when they finally arrived. She grudgingly agreed, but left behind the smallest of their group, who was the pink-hued dragon named Rose Ruby. She volunteered to stay behind to provide at least one source of flame and close defense if the Cloven attempted an airdrop with corrupted flyers onto the plateau, claiming that she alone could defend it.

Though Gilda didn’t believe that for a second given the drakina’s small size—she didn’t even stand as tall as Lance Corporal Henderson, who was easily the smallest Marine present, so how could she possibly be good at close combat?—she acceded, deciding the diminutive dragon female could at least burn the remaining brush on the rear of the hill if needed.

And by all the Crows, what kind of warrior ever wields a scythe? That’s for harvesting grain, not hacking off heads! She shook her head but gave it no further thought as she turned to the two Ibex next, asking what skills and spellwork they could offer the defense.

The reply she got from Karin Kazal was that given their wounds and still-limited power, they had little in the way of ranged weapons or more potent magics available. They were also unable to safely teleport more than very short distances with their still-healing antlers, but being able to scale the steep hillside with ease, he and the less injured doe could reach and carry wounded from anywhere on the hill as well as provide at least a few weak shields and other wards.

And when she asked him what they could do when it came to close combat, he ignited his antlers to produce magical blades of the same type he’d demonstrated briefly before, during his first confrontation with the Senior Scimitar. He boasted that they were quite skilled with them and particularly deadly in close quarters like the caves.

“In that, at least, he speaks true,” the Senior Scimitar admitted in a slightly rueful tone. “But I still don’t trust you, Starshina.”

“Then don’t. It matters not,” the Ibex buck replied coolly. “But as the humans must be kept from the Cloven at all costs, I will fight to defend them.”

“The humans? And what about the Kingdom?” Gilda challenged.

“It can rot,” he replied in perfect honesty, turning to face her glare head-on. “I will help you so long as I feel it helps the Ascendency, Centurion, which means working together to defeat our mutual foe. Once the Cloven are beaten, we can go back to our more personal squabbles, but I swear on the Ancient Rams themselves that I will aid you to the best of my abilities until then.”

“And after that?” she prompted, to which he gave her a level look.

“And after that, I will do my best to escape and get all the intelligence I have gathered back to the Ascendancy. And don’t pretend you would do any differently in my place.”

Despite the wingslap of his words, she was surprised to feel a strong measure of respect for him, finding his undiplomatic bluntness refreshing and an oddly comforting reminder of her youth. He’s certainly honest about his intentions! And loyal to his nation. In that sense, at least, he’s as honorable as any griffon, she grudgingly granted, wondering if he had a mate and if so, whether his willingness to be so cuttingly candid about things occasionally got him in trouble with her.

If he’s married, then their sex must be interesting… she decided with a smirk, but she couldn’t help flashing back yet again to the feel and scent of his ibexian attributes, once more vividly recalling when her face had been accidentally buried in them.

Her jaw fell open along with her eyes going wide at where her mind had just gone—again! But before she could mentally berate herself again in turn, a succession of blue flares fired from across the lake indicated the Cloven were on the way.

The conversation and her increasingly lurid thoughts were abruptly and quite mercifully ended as she ordered her troops to rush their tasks to completion; it soon became clear from Raven reports—and just how had their paired communication crystals overcome magical interference and Magus eavesdropping?— that they had at most minutes before the first attack went in.

Her soldiers needed little prodding after that. As she watched, the scorched hillside was seeded with explosive gems by Fortrakt’s aerial groups while a detachment of Talons stabbed spears into the ground at the hill’s base. They were meant to help break up a Cloven charge by not so much impaling them, but by causing them to bunch up where they’d be easy prey for human rifles and griffon bowcasters.

She saw the latter demonstrated for the first time as one was set up and the Raven wielding it fired a single bolt at her request. Just as before, there was no drawstring—at least, not until the gems and mithril filaments of the launcher arms lit up with violet light as they began moving to either side, with a glowing magical string of the same hue forming between their ends.

The magic soon concentrated and manifested itself as an arrow of pure energy in the bowcaster’s central mount, which was then released with an odd twanging sound; it shot out as a brightly glowing bolt that was almost too fast to follow in flight before it struck a tree in the woods. It caused a targeted branch to shatter at two hundred paces, sending it crashing to the forest floor.

It was an impressive display of firepower that even earned some nods of respect from the Marines for equaling or exceeding the power of their rifles, at least for individual rounds. But Gilda could also see the drawbacks of the experimental weapon, recognizing that the glowing magical bolts made their source’s location instantly obvious and that it took several critical seconds to cycle for another shot.

The delay was even worse when they demonstrated the reload procedure for the ‘feeder crystal’ that was placed in the base of the weapon, which required a series of precise and practiced motions to remove and replace. It took nearly eight seconds, whereas the well-practiced Marines could swap quivers in just two or three.

“Bowcasters, huh? Pity we don’t have an army of Wookies…” a Marine muttered under his breath, and Gilda had neither the time nor inclination to ask what in the crows he meant. In the meantime, at Imlay’s suggestion, she ordered two of his fire teams to practice riding earth griffons. They would become a mobile force meant to rapidly transfer Marine firepower to endangered areas, while his third team would stay behind to defend the trenches directly.

Five minutes later, they were finishing off their improvised emplacements and obstacles when the sound of combat erupted in the woods on the other side of the lake. The still-dark forest was suddenly lit up by painfully bright gouts of multicolored flame along with detonations of explosive gems and repeater bolts, with the noise coming from at least three locations as the Ravens and dragons started whittling down the lead Cloven formations.

The former reported some success, claiming at least a century of dead soldier forms, but also warned the Cloven were simply charging through their hastily laid surface traps without any heed to their losses. Worse, they were being swarmed by flyers and illuminated by blacklights from captured mages, who were keeping them visible while putting their power into maintaining their shield spells and not engaging in offensive action, rendering them nearly untouchable without a more concerted effort to take them down.

Swearing violently, Gilda ordered her forward forces to break contact and fall back to the hill. The Ravens acknowledged but Obsidian Ire reacted to her instructions with derision, boasting again that their forged armor and toughened hides were invulnerable to Magus magic and the smaller flyer-fired spikes.

“Withdraw your worthless Ravens, Centurion Behertz—we will deal with the corrupted mages and airborne Cloven!” she promised over a griffon gem as they took flight to begin systematically immolating the razorbat swarms or otherwise chopping them to pieces with the blades from their backs, closing on the former Magus Knights to cleave their shields and bodies in two with their dragonfire-infused steel.

That lasted about eight seconds, with nearly forty flyers and two mages slain before there were several sharp cries of surprise and pain. “I’m hit! By the ancient Dragon Lords, these flyers have more powerful spikes!” One of the other dragon females shouted in a severely strained tone.

The next voice to speak was Obsidian Ire’s, and Gilda could hear the disbelief in it. “Centurion, we need assistance! We killed the mages but Red Hot is wounded and Orange Crush has her wings torn! She can no longer fly! I’ll carry her but be vulnerable in flight!”

DRAGON'S WRATH | Intense Dark Apocalyptic Battle Mix | 1 Hour Epic Music

“Crows take it…” Though sorely tempted to leave at least one of them to their fate as an object lesson in obeying orders to the others, Gilda restrained her anger even as the pink at the edges of her vision grew again, this time in ire at the avoidable casualties.

“Dive for the ground and take cover in the woods, then head back on the main path towards the hill! Ravens! Protect the wounded and cover their withdrawal around the south side of the lake as best you can! We’ll meet you halfway! Marine mobile force and Wind Knights inbound!” she announced as she banked hard from over the hill towards the fighting, reflecting at least briefly that she was finally fulfilling one of her heart’s greatest desires—to lead the elite soldiers she wished to join above all others into battle, even if she wasn’t officially one of them.

At her shouted command, two decades of Wind Knights took flight and formed up behind her, notching arrows and in the case of the decade leaders, slamming home drums into repeater barrels—their models weren’t as advanced as the Raven versions but still looked quite capable. She’d been offered one again, and though nearly as tempted as she’d been to take Marco’s pistol, she declined. She knew she wasn’t practiced enough with them to be effective, having held and fired one just once during Gauntlet training.

The twenty gold-armored Wind Knights immediately settled into two V-shaped combat formations behind her, their bolts and blades ready, while one of her two decades of Fortis Knights dashed right below them. The latter charged downhill, with the second decade left behind to defend the plateau and cave entrance with heavy repeaters from further upslope of it. They were carrying their standard array of large shields, battle axes and war hammers paired with spears and standard heavy crossbows as well as two full Marine Fire teams on their backs.

It was the tactic that Giraldi and Imlay had earlier thought of on the march to Bale, and though not much good over long distances or in aerial combat, it was simple enough to implement in terms of quick maneuvering; combining the firepower of a Marine with the ground coverage of an earth griffon. Under Giraldi’s supervision, they had practiced moving mounted at least a little on the plateau in front of the cave entrance to see how fast they could go and if flight was possible, for which the answer was—sort of.

Her Fortis Knights could run more or less safely with them, using their wings to pin human legs to their armored sides. They even found they could carry them into the air with only limited speed and maneuverability, both due to the load and for being unbalanced in flight—no surprise given their earth griffon wings were not as powerful as sky griffon ones. But it was also to no surprise that the Marines were not particularly keen on that, having no way to secure themselves in the air other than hold onto their makeshift mounts for dear life. So as much as possible, they would have to be moved by ground.

More than once during their practice runs, griffon shoulders and wingbases were openly and repeatedly groped by soft and fleshy human fingers. It left the mostly-tiercel group of Fortis Knights with flushed faces and twitching tails, leaving Gilda wondering why a startled Giraldi and a slightly blushing Fortrakt hadn’t told them about that taboo touching area up front.

One of the tiercels then asked her under his breath in Aeric if all male humans were tiercel-tuckers, to which Gilda smirked, stepping up to inform the Marines that shoulders and flight muscles were off-limits for griffons.

They looked startled when she explained why, exchanging nervous glances before profusely apologizing to the large and powerful Fortis Knights. Though the elite soldiers somewhat grudgingly accepted the contrition, their cheek flushes didn’t quite fade. At least one was shifting uncomfortably for reasons she didn’t dare guess, while another looked like he was trying to stop his wings from at least partially going erect.

The Marines then asked what they were supposed to hold onto instead of griffon bodies, to which Gilda said that the thick protruding straps of neck or pauldron armor would do. They had a flat loop at the end to keep them from slipping that was—by strange coincidence—the perfect size for a human hand to hold.

Doing so, they more or less got the hang of riding on a griffon back after a minute or two of practice, though it was abundantly clear that they couldn’t safely fire their rifles from a moving mount. At least, not without losing their grip on them and likely falling.

If we’re going to carry them like Terran horses, we’ll need a proper saddle… she sensed as they rushed south down the road towards her retreating Ravens, wondering what form one would take. It’ll be something we can look into when we make it to Aricia—if we survive long enough to get there! she hastily amended her thought, feeling another moment of ire at what she still found to be their obscenely idiotic orders.

Her eyes fell on the Ibex buck below, running in front of the Fortis Knight formation to cover them and the humans they carried from ahead. To her surprise, Karin Kazal had all but demanded to accompany the humans on any foray, reiterating that he intended to protect them at all costs. He convinced her by promising that he could provide at least a modicum of Magus Knight support for the force, giving them protection that Decanus Nydia could not then offer.

Gilda wasn’t sure how much good he would be given his own admitted fatigue and lack of power, but he cast the same gravitational reduction charm on himself as earlier to keep up with the sprinting griffons, though at a lower power level to conserve energy. That meant he could bound along more or less effortlessly but couldn’t jump into the high branches as before. Neither the Marines nor Knights were particularly happy to have him along, but her order silenced their grumbling, saying he’d proven his worth and that she trusted he wouldn’t betray them.

“If he does, he’s dead and he knows it,” she had reminded them in the Starshina’s presence, surprised to find herself defending him. “And even weakened, he’s an excellent mage who’s got plenty of useful spells available, even if he’s just a crow-damned goat who eats grass and poisons diplomatic guests with fertility potion.” She couldn’t resist needling him.

He gave her a look. “Why thank you, Grizelda Behertz. And you are clearly a courageous and competent commander whose ability belies your youth… even if you are just a halfwit hen who eats meat and lays with alien apes.” He spoke his words with a sweet smile and wink, sketching her a barely adequate salute with his antlers from a cocked head.

Despite the anger and derision that greeted his words from her soldiers, she smiled and bared her throat in respect, returning the salute for having her barbs so neatly parried. She found his wits and ability to insult every bit as sharp as hers, thinking again that he almost reminded her of herself.

So help me, I think I’m actually starting to like him! she realized as she glanced down again to see him keeping up easily with the sprinting Fortis Knights, his horns weakly aglow to maintain his running spell. Not that I’d want to rut him or anything…

Less than a minute after leaving the old hive, they were already rounding the southeast corner of the lake, where there were some small waterfalls cascading off another hill; they fell into a small covered cove with a sandy beach that was hidden from prying eyes by branches from overhanging trees.

Called the Crystal Cove for its preponderance of glittering gems in the stone walls of the waterfall cliff, she’d been told during an earlier visit that it was a favorite area for romantic trysts and mating rounds. Gilda had greeted that news with an eyeroll, resolving to avoid it for that very reason. She had come to Lake Languid on leave to get away from everycreature and everything, wanting only to be alone for a couple days after having no privacy for weeks on end in the Auxiliary Guard barracks of Aricia.

Didn’t stop some trysts from taking place there, though… She could recall at least a few cases of hearing soldiers having sex in their straw beds while she was trying to sleep. Though very much against regulations, it was perhaps the inevitable outcome of putting young griffons of both genders into such close quarters, giving them no other outlet for their urges.

Especially given that they sparred so much during the day that the passions they potentially built then could only be relieved later, when they went off duty. At most uninterested and at worst outright annoyed at them for waking her up with their grunts and only barely bit-off trills, she had typically just wanted them to go away or at least finish quickly, but now…

She shook her head sharply to stop herself from fantasizing about sex again at a very bad time. Her drifting and increasingly lurid thoughts were no doubt helped by the cider within her, which was starting to take firm hold of her again as combat approached. Okay, that’s IT! Fortrakt was right and I should have taken the chance to be tucked earlier! So as soon as this fight is over, I’m finding Marco and—

The thought was lost as there was a sharp flash and boom of detonating explosive gems followed by a fresh gout of flame ahead of them. By the purple hue of it, it belonged to Obsidian Ire; Gilda’s cider-enhanced eyes could just pick out her form with Red Hot on her back. The latter was slumped over her sister’s shoulders with a set of flyer spikes deeply embedded in her scales, having penetrated her armor to stitch a diagonal line across her side.

“Crows take it… Double time!” she called into her loudspeaker crystal to hear the order echoed promptly from ahead and behind. “There’s a gorge ahead! Fan out behind it and be ready to cover the retreat!” She remembered seeing it from one of her earlier visits, thinking she might have enjoyed using it as an obstacle course if it wasn’t for the dozen griffon cubs already doing so.

Keeping the mid-sized lake to their right—which to her great relief, the Cloven had thus far shown no ability to cross with their grounded forces—they rounded the corner and charged ahead, heading for a stone bridge over the gorge that a crippled Orange Crush and the grounded Cloven would have to pass on their way back. It was fronted by not forest but a short meadow and was a favorite place for cubs to practice flying through the narrow crevice; Gilda supposed that she and Rainbow would have made use of it back in their teenage days.

Her mobile force covered the ground quickly as they spotted their defenders spilling out of the woods, both griffons and dragons falling back from the incoming mob of black-armored ground soldiers chasing them. They struggled to keep their foe at bay with fire and a spray of crossbow bolts from their repeaters, trying to hold the charging Cloven off long enough for the wounded to reach the bridge.

Gilda shouted an order to the lead earth griffon, who was the Fortis Knight Decanus carrying Guerrero. He raised his talons and made a circular motion with them, which signaled the entire decade following him to fan out. They took to the air briefly to hasten their dispersion, landing on the edge of the gorge where they could bracket the bridge and fire into the flanks of the pursuit.

Though the Marines were momentarily disconcerted by the sudden maneuver—which she was strangely certain Giraldi would be glad to know caused them to instinctively grab at Griffon shoulders and necks again to not be thrown off—they hastily dismounted and dove into the grass at the edge of the gorge, leveled their rifles and took just a moment to aim before they opened fire at the charging black wave that emerged from the woodline, not far behind her retreating force.

The roaring sound of the rifles in the close confines of the woods created a number of echoes in the narrow gorge as they spat out metallic death, causing the Fortis Knights to flinch back at the sound of close-range cannon fire. Green and black gore spurted from holes punched in the lead formation of Cloven ground soldiers as they were swiftly shredded by the human firearms, falling one by one.

Obsidian Ire looked shocked at the carnage and the retreating Ravens seemed equally surprised by how effective the Marine weapons were, and realizing they had turned the winds of battle in griffon favor, the gray-dyed warriors stopped retreating and turned on their pursuers. They drew their swords or aimed their reloaded repeaters at any of the Cloven that made it through the hail of fire or were otherwise too stubborn to fall.

As the retreating force reached the bridge while Gilda and the others flew overhead to strike down the weakened formations of flyers still threatening them, she smiled at the realization that they in fact had a very good chokepoint at the gorge, which would require the Cloven to either capture the bridge or go around far to the south to find another crossing, given the north side slowly turned into a broad but steep-sided river that drained into the lake.

You know, we might actually be able to hold this crossing for some time! she thought hopefully, thinking that it could be easily covered with a small force—one she could use to take out another century or two of Cloven before falling back. But as the initial pursuit wave began to falter and lose momentum well short of the bridge itself, there was a fresh buzzing sound, though Gilda could only barely hear it over the roaring thunder of the rifles.

Looking up, she could see clearly what was coming in the slowly lightening sky: there were several sets of the much larger Cloven flyers she and Fortrakt had first spotted in the millennium-sized column approaching Bale, escorted by a scattering of the smaller razorbat forms. The purpose of the former became clear when she saw they were carrying other Cloven soldier types they could drop as reinforcements, as they had both standard ground soldiers and porkupikes in their talon-like grasps.

Her guts clenched as she instantly sensed their intention, recognizing that they were going to airdrop a half century of enhanced Cloven soldier forms behind them, attempting to pocket her forward force and turn their chokepoint into a trap.

Not today! she thought fiercely as she pulled her notched crossbow, sensing that they had but seconds to act. “Crows take it… Wind Knights! Separate into Fugas and aim for the larger flyers! If you can’t kill them, cripple their flight by ripping open their webbed wings! Knock them down before they can land their force on the other side of the gorge! First Spear Ubera, you’re with me! Now move!” she ordered him on her wing as the formation broke apart to carry out her orders, keeping the unit’s senior sky griffon with her. With Amans Ubera at her side, she flew high and then swooped down hard on the first carrier form, her crossbow readied and supported by his repeater.

Thrums of released drawstrings came next, with a mixture of single-shot incendiary and electrical bolts paired with long sequences of repeater-fired explosive darts whistling through the air to strike down the airborne Cloven. The first quickly immolated the large flying forms as surely as if the dragons had bathed them in flame while the electrical ones paralyzed their prey, with the accurate aim of the Wind Knights accounting for six of the score or more of carrier forms in mere seconds.

Most of them fell dead or paralyzed from over a hundred perches high to the ground, releasing the soldier forms that they were carrying to fall hard to the forest floor. They usually survived, albeit with broken limbs that made them very easy for the Marines to pick off, and those that didn’t fell swiftly to the momentum of the Wind Knights’ charge.

Crossbows expended, they closed to attack with steel claws and scimitars pulled from their backs, which the Wind Knights alone among conventional Kingdom military units still wielded. They obeyed her orders to strike at the wings and instinctively did so from above, where the carried porkupikes could not retaliate. They used their superior speed and maneuverability to hit the larger Cloven from behind, ripping their bat-wings open with enchanted steel to send them spiraling or outright plummeting to the ground.

Finally realizing their peril and unsupported by more than minimal razorbat forms after the dragons and Ravens had earlier gutted them, the larger airborne Cloven tried to turn on their pursuers. But it was already too late as Gilda weaved through the air, her metal claws slicing open one of the latter’s thin razor-sharp wings. She let gravity do the rest, watching in great satisfaction as it fell with a heavy thump to the ground.

She almost missed a second razorbat
swooping down on her while she reloaded her crossbow with an electrical bolt, but the First Spear stopped it, cutting it in two with a single slice of his sword.

Startled, she turned to him and nodded, and then returned the favor by sending her bolt whistling past his equally startled head. It impacted a razorbat form closing on him from behind, piercing it and erupting with its usual blue arcing electrical sparks, killing it instantly and sending it falling limply with smoke coming off its wings.

She might have worried about the reinforcing flyer formations she could see belatedly winging in until a series of magical flares were launched high in the air from just behind the bridge. Its source was Karin Kazal, who was calling upon the spell he had originally used to strike down the first flyer swarm in Bale, though he seemed to be employing a much weaker version of it with less range to compensate for his lessened magic.

Despite that, his flares burst among them like electrical flak from the human movie Midway—yet again, how did she know what that was called?—bringing down all the agile but fragile flyer forms within a dozen wingpaces of the explosions. The spell’s effect crackled like miniature lightning and looked like a small set of spreading anvil crawlers in thunderstorms, branching out to ensnare everything in reach with its electrical tendrils.

Between him and the work of the two sky griffon decades, more and more flyers fell, slowly clearing the skies while down below, the Marines stopped firing their rifles as the soldier forms that had survived their charge towards the crossing got too close to the retreating force. It included the remaining Ravens as well as a visibly wounded and limping Orange Crush; the Cloven trying to storm the bridge on their heels.

That was when the earth griffon Fortis Knights that had carried the Marines took charge. They moved to block the bridge with their shields behind the Ravens and dragons; variously smashing, slashing, or stabbing any of the Cloven forces that were still moving to cross it with axes and war hammers. They held easily against the disorganized attack that had lost most of its mass and momentum, able to concentrate on one or two soldier forms at a time while the Marines kept their fire trained further back to keep striking down the stragglers.

Within another minute, it was over; they’d notched another victory while suffering no casualties to the relief force. Witnessing what felt like at least another century and a half of Cloven crushed, Gilda felt a fierce victory cry building up from her chest and finally released it with a loud leonine roar; one that was promptly echoed by the Knights she led even if they didn’t have lion hindquarters.

The strangest thing was, unlike earlier, she didn’t feel tired but alive. Finally facing off against the enemy herself after doing little but being a bystander or having to avoid it on the flight from Bale had been absolutely exhilarating, doubly so for having personally accounted for two carrier forms and three razorbats as they reduced the airborne force to nothing before they could even cross the gorge.

She didn’t know if it was adrenaline or something else like the cider, whose effects still made itself known in her pink-rimmed vision and heightened senses that left her aware of almost everything around her. But despite all her previous fatigue and even her earlier inability to shake sensual thoughts, she found herself fully alert and combat ready, her mind sharp and reflexes rapid.

The battle seemingly won, her eyes could see small gestures of celebration between the Marines and the griffon soldiers on the ground below her. Behind them, the wounded Ravens and dragons retreated down the path with the latter given rides on spare Fortis Knight soldiers, while those still mobile covered them from above. As they left, Gilda was about to order her defending force to reset their defense and prepare to meet another wave, believing they could account for another century or two before withdrawing.

Or maybe we should withdraw now? She suddenly fretted as Marine radios and Raven gems prompted her for orders. Now that they know we’re here, they’ll be able to concentrate against us and maybe try to flank us or—

“Centurion!” The thought was cut short as the First Spear shouted and motioned to the north. Following his pointed talon, she could see fresh swarms of flyers had gathered out over the lake, just visible through the morning mists of the approaching dawn. Though the hive redoubt of her century-plus of defenders was closer, they were not heading there, but instead, flying straight towards her mobile force’s location at the south end of the lake. And worse, there were clearly several dozen more carrier forms in the mix.

That cinched it. “We can’t stay here! Marines and Knights! Withdraw! Head back around the lake towards the hill!” she ordered, seeing the former scrambling to climb back on the backs of the latter, who weren’t always ready given they had to sheath their weapons, or in some cases, pass them for other griffons to carry.

Gilda grimaced at their lack of practice as the panicked departure showed their failure to get ready to go quickly; she estimated they’d need another thirty seconds to get everybody on the way back.

Which might have been time they did not have, and even more ominously, her enhanced vision picked up a fresh concentration of Cloven ground forces approaching through the woods. “Centurion! Do you wish us to return and assist?” Miles Fortuna prompted, this time over Raven communication gems.

It took her only a second to decide as she grabbed the companion gem from her belt and raised it to her beak. “Yes! Cover the withdrawal of the mobile force while the Wind Knights engage the incoming one directly!” she decided, earning a shocked look from the First Spear. “Starshina! If it is within your power, blow that bridge! Deny them their crossing!”

She got a harried acknowledgement back as the Ibex buck studied the stone structure, glancing repeatedly between it to the treeline where glowing Cloven eyes could be seen. She didn’t know how he could do it with his limited magic, and she guessed he wasn’t sure either, but he was clearly thinking about it, and in the end, he cast some form of spell on the bridge that didn’t have any immediate effect as the Marines were finally fully mounted.

As she watched, the earth griffons they were atop of took off with the Ibex buck hard on their heels. Despite that, she knew that they were very vulnerable in transit to such a large airborne attack, estimating they had just a minute before it arrived. “Wind Knights! Form up on me! We’re buying them time to get back to the hive!”

“Centurion, with due respect, we cannot take those numbers alone!” the First Spear informed her directly, to which she gave him a glare.

“We won’t have to. Decurion Gletscher! Fly south to protect the withdrawal of the wounded, and then go back to fly top cover for the retreat of the Marines and Fortis Knights! Obsidian Ire! You’ve rested long enough! So get your fat flank in the air and join us in attacking that fresh flyer swarm over the lake! We’re going to whittle their numbers down, and this time, you and your sisters will obey your crow-damned orders, or else!”

She heard a sharp draconic hiss in response over the Marine radio and saw a sudden puff of purple flame vented in anger further east. Despite the danger, Gilda grinned to see it—her words had been deliberately chosen to goad the proud dragon female, reasoning that just like her as a teenager, Obsidian Ire could not refuse to answer a slur or any challenge to her ability or honor.

“By your command. But that is yet one more insult you must answer for, Grizelda Behertz!” she said heatedly as Gilda could just see them take flight, their two remaining members—herself and Emerald Inferno—heading out over the lake to join her improvised assault force.

“Just wait! Because I’ve got plenty more coming!” she fired back before cutting the connection. You know, I bet I would have really liked her as a teen—wait. Just TWO dragons? Weren’t there three unwounded? Oh, right. We left Rose Ruby at the hill, Gilda belatedly remembered as she stayed in her hover, waiting impatiently for the Ravens to return. Probably just as well. Not like she could do much at her small size!

She waited until the gray-dyed warriors had nearly reached them to cover the retreat of the Marines and Fortis Knights before she set out with the Wind Knights. They headed at intercept speed towards the approaching Cloven, flying in what sky griffon flying doctrine called spoiling assault formations at her orders. That meant a narrower but deeper three-pronged V with the decade leader in the lead, with his repeater and three fuga-sized ‘prongs’ of three soldiers stretching out backwards from them at equal distance around him, forming a thin but sharp spearhead that was designed to punch through enemy formations quickly without stopping.

Done properly, it could stab right through an airborne battle line like a thrown spear and not stop until they burst out the back of the enemy formation, followed by diving away and then circling around for another pass. It was a hit-and-fly tactic designed to be used against superior numbers where the purpose was not to take control of the air, but simply attrit the enemy.

It used the speed of their strike to maintain griffon strength as much as possible, given their rapid transit didn’t allow for accurate aiming of distance weapons and their extended formations protected them from multiple soldiers being taken out at once. In contrast, the griffons involved in such a strike could fire straight ahead with some hope of hitting, and slash at enemy soldiers as they passed.

She knew they were the right tactics to use, but she still cursed her enemy for their own. And herself for not anticipating them. Damned Cloven… they don’t care about the hill or the rest of us so much as killing and corrupting the HUMANS! she belatedly realized, recognizing that they weren’t even going to bother with the fortified hive so long as they could isolate the human Marines outside of it, kill them and corrupt them.

And then once they had Marine knowledge and weapons at their disposal, she knew they could reduce the hill and kill its remaining defenders at leisure. Crows take it… they might not even bother with storming it then! They might just order their remaining dragons to turn it to ASH!

The thought made her guts clench anew as the pink in her vision intensified again while they headed out over the lake. By the time they were within two hundred wingpaces of the approaching Cloven, who were already banking left to follow the retreat of the humans, the Cloven razorbat forms opened up on them with their fired spikes. They weren’t accurate at that distance, but at least one lucky shot speared right through a Wind Knight pinion, so she ordered her force to bank left as well, not just to evade fire but draw their attention.

Gilda smiled thinly as her tactic worked and the Cloven flyers were blindsided by the returning drakinas. Blasts of green and violet fire enveloped the left side of their formations while they were focused on Gilda and the Wind Knights to the right, sending another fifty Cloven razorbat and carrier forms to their deaths.

She was also pleased to see that Obsidian Ire was smarter about her tactics this time. She was not lingering in the air to fight them head to head with her swords, but instead strafing them with flame and then darting away before too many spikes could target her. The large black-scaled dragon female was trailed by Emerald Inferno, who appeared to be flying in her big sister’s shadow as she bled out beneath her armor, the tip of a spike having pierced it to remain embedded in her green-scaled back. But she was still flying and fighting as the airborne Cloven finally maneuvered to meet them, recognizing that they were the greater threat.

That meant it was time for Gilda to return the favor, though not before she chanced a look back at the gorge where they’d just been. To her surprise, the bridge was still up but when the Cloven tried to cross it, the stone simply crumbled beneath them as they made it halfway to the other side, falling apart beneath their combined weight like wet sand and sending a dozen forms tumbling down the gorge into the rapids below.

She blinked, wondering how Karin Kazal had pulled that off, resolving to ask him about it later. To her surprise, she mentally thanked the Ancestors for sending the ibex buck to her, deciding she’d speak up for him when they made it to Aricia. I don’t want to rut him, but at this point, I don’t want him dead, either!

If they made it back, she hastily corrected her thought as a third of the flyer swarm peeled off to fight her and the Wind Knights. She could feel tiny wind streams flowing through her feathers as they approached, and she could hear the odd buzzing sounds of their bladed wings getting louder and louder as they neared.

Focusing on the center of the formation, she saw a few more of the larger flyers mixed in, but this time, they weren’t carrying any ground troops. The Wind Knights spotted them too, judging by the way they all loaded their crossbows with heavy proximal explosive bolts, designed to take out clusters of close-packed forces in the air by detonating when they simply got close enough.

She didn’t know what enchantments allowed that for Knight weapons, and at that moment, she didn’t care. “Aim!” she ordered her two decades, raising her crossbow to level. She smiled a bit as she saw that the flyers weren’t even dispersing. In fact, they were clustering around the larger forms, whose beaks opened slightly. But before she could give the order to fire, she spotted something bright and hot coming at her.

She recognized it instantly as not just a stream but a broad spray of heavy spikes that reached out for them like a scatter blast from a magus lightning attack. Even with her senses and reaction speeds enhanced by the cider, she wasn’t fast enough to dodge it at that range as fire engulfed her flank, sharp and painful as crimson blood sprayed out into the air.

Stifling a cry of pain, her eyes widened as she saw something long, black, and sharp striking the chest of the Wind Knight beside her, penetrating his metal armor instantly. He gaped down at his pierced protection, seeing the red-hot spike embedded deep within him with the metal melting around its edges, then up at her briefly, not understanding that he was hit.

His eyes briefly widened in surprise, only to roll back up in his head as they became lifeless and he fell dead to the water below, slain along with two more of her force.

“Crows take it! Disperse!” Gilda ordered, firing one shot towards the nearest carrier form, though maybe that wasn’t the best name for them given this new ability. As she flew at an angle, she could see that her shot flew true, her piercing bolt striking the flyer in the chest with enough force to spear through whatever passed for its heart.

She didn’t stay put long enough to see if it fell, instantly maneuvering to evade a barrage of retaliatory spikes from the smaller razorbat forms that followed. Her remaining Wind Knights fired their own shots before taking evasive action, using a mixture of armor piercing and explosive bolts while slashing with scimitars and steel claws at any flyers who attempted to engage them with the ends of their sharpened wings, which could cut like a blade.

Their formations were solid, their maneuvers were well-practiced, and their armor was quite good. But as the large Cloven had just demonstrated, it wasn’t perfect as the glowing smaller spikes struck at least three of them in unprotected areas of the back or barrel, bringing another two of them down. Gilda cursed, stealing a glance at the still-numerous flyers in the sky maneuvering around them, their beaks open as they fired a steady stream of incendiary bolts towards the dodging griffons.

Gilda guessed they were trying not to give them a chance to reload their crossbows while the remaining third of their force headed for the humans, whom they could no longer assist. She also wasn’t sure when it had happened, but her forces were now fighting back to back with Obsidian Ire and Emerald Inferno in the air.

The two drakinas weaved, dodged and sliced through the Cloven formations with sword and talon, only occasionally finding the time to draw enough breath to emit flame. Both of them were showing multiple spikes embedded in their torsos at that point, but still they battled, with Obsidian Ire even rescuing one of her Wind Knights who had been in danger of being cut off from her comrades, fending off her assailants before grabbing her and dragging her to safety.

Despite that, she guessed they had taken down another eighty airborne cloven between them. Buttheir fatigue was building along with their losses, as she was now down five of her original twenty Wind Knights. There’s just too many flyers, and we can’t dodge them forever! Gilda thought desperately, hoping her efforts had bought her retreating forces the time they needed. Even as she continued to fight, she couldn’t help wondering what the Cloven had done to improve the ranged weaponry of their flyers so that they could punch through armor and even wound dragons.

Whatever they were shooting out was not only fast and accurate at closer range, with a few almost clipping her wings as she traced a spiral path through the air, but the bolts were hot enough that she could feel the heat of their passing, causing a series of scorch lines on her flank and feathers even aside from the one that had left a deep cut in her side.

But she ignored the pain, the pink in her gaze intensifying yet again. And this time, it seemed to cause time itself to slow down around her as she suddenly found she was fast enough to dodge several more spikes aimed her way.

Feeling like they were moving in slow motion, she avoided them easily and took down five more razorbat forms in rapid succession, swooping and slashing at them with her steel-clad talons. But it still wasn’t enough, as with the century-sized flyer formation now moving to envelop her own, their fate was sealed unless they could break free of the trap.

By all the crows, THINK, Gilda! she ordered herself, and upon receiving a report that the Marines had made it most of the way back to the hill despite the faltering efforts of the Cloven to interdict them, she reconsidered her options. If nothing else, that meant they could try to break contact and get back to the hive themselves, but she sensed that if they ended up pinned at low altitude over the lake, the flyers would knock them down easily given they would be unable to dive away.

And then she no longer had the chance as a massive new shape approached out of the north with a loud and guttural roar. Its chest glowed and flames leaked out around not just its mouth, but several ugly puncture wounds on its shoulders and neck where its partially crumbling scales were burned nearly to ash around it; a testament to its intense internal heat.

“Dragon!” the call came out as they instantly dispersed before its initial and very indiscriminate blast of flame. It took out a large slew of the remaining Cloven as well as two more of her Wind Knights, who fell immolated to the steaming lake surface below. She ordered her force to retreat, and all did so except Emerald Inferno, who stared up at the approaching adult drake in disbelief, steaming tears starting to appear in her punch-drunk eyes.

“F-father…” the wounded and woozy drakina called out forlornly, dropping her sword into the lake. “Please… help us…” She then tried to fly to him, which only lasted until Gilda grabbed her by her armored collar and dragged her backwards through the air.

That thing was her FATHER? she wondered only in passing before all but throwing the sobbing female at Obsidian Ire, who was the only one who could restrain her for more than a few seconds.

“Get her back to the hill and knock her out if you have to! The rest of you, scatter! Split up and head in different directions by Fuga before curling back towards the Hive! Senior Scimitar! Tell Corporal Imlay that if he’s got any more of those ‘stingers’ available, we need one now!”

From the tone of her barely audible response, Miles Fortuna clearly didn’t have any idea what she meant, but the Raven eagless promised she would pass it along given Gilda’s radio was out of range of the hill at that moment. As her remaining soldiers obeyed her instructions, the drake couldn’t follow all of them. But by luck or design, he settled on pursuing Gilda, perhaps because the parasite controlling him recognized her as the commander.

“Crows Take it…” Fighting off both the wave of sheer terror attempting to grip her as well as her still-bleeding wound and the growing fatigue that threatened to slow her down, she flew as fast as she could, weaving and dodging ahead of the drake, trying not to let him or the scattered flyers still present get a bead on her. Gilda only barely evaded his initial gout of flame, which incinerated a stand of trees beside her. Realizing she couldn’t keep up the pace for much longer, she decided to go for the gorge, which wasn’t wide enough for his wings.

She had just made it inside when she realized she’d made a terrible, and likely fatal mistake. She was right that the adult dragon couldn’t enter the ravine, but he could engulf its narrow confines with inescapable flames that would be focused and forced further ahead by the walls, allowing him to fill it with fire far past the point her flying could outpace it.

Her life flashing before her eyes as she saw the dragon draw a final, fateful breath above her, the gaps in his damaged chest and neck scales growing hotter as she watched, Gilda found her greatest regret at that moment was not one of failing to gain rank or making the Wind Knights, or even of never making amends with Rainbow Dash.

It was the simple fact of not taking the opportunity to have sex with her human friends again, reflecting ruefully on all the chances she had missed.

Their faces swimming before her as he opened his maw in what seemed like slow motion, she closed her eyes, her racing mind mentally promising her Ancestors that if they saw fit to spare her, she would never shun the chance to have sex with them or anycreature else she desired ever again.

As if in answer to her unspoken prayer, there was a bright flash of light ahead of her that briefly resolved into the form of Karin Kazal. She barely had time to register his presence before they collided, his nearly-healed horns glowing brighter than they had before. The dragon breathed flame just as the Starshina’s enormous Ibexian antlers flared hard again, and she suddenly felt like she’d been punched hard in the stomach, fighting off a severe wave of nausea and vertigo.

Stumbling badly and surprised to find herself still alive and unburned, Gilda’s vision cleared enough to realize she was at the top of the gorge behind the crumbled bridge. The dragon had seemingly seen her escape as it was flying up and looking around for its quarry again, its one good eye finally settling on her.

It was then she noticed Karin Kazal beside her, unable to pull himself back up, having spent his magic in a teleport he wasn’t supposed to have performed so soon. “By the Ancient Rams themselves, what are you looking at? Go, Centurion! Flee!” he ordered her imperiously, seemingly so stripped of his power he was unable to rise or run.

But after staring at him for a second in disbelief—he… he SAVED me? was the only coherent thought she could form for a bare instant—she refused to, going over to pick him up, ordering him to hold on to her back. Despite his heavy load and her own pounding heart, she got a running start through the meadow by the gorge and began flapping hard like she was harnessed to an air coach, trying to gain enough speed and lift to take off.

With him on his back, she pulled into the air only agonizingly slowly at first, the Ibex buck holding on to her form as tightly as he could while emitting what Gilda guessed was a stream of Ibexian invective under his breath.

And through it all, she could sense the dragon coming hard for her, now able to slowly close the distance from above and behind them even with the visible tears in its wings.

“Centurion! Turn left and go higher! Lead the drake out over the lake towards the hive!” she heard Miles Fortuna call into the communication gem still strapped to her borrowed Raven belt, but she didn’t reply. She couldn’t, her overworked muscles screaming in pain as she struggled to obey, not understanding the instruction but trusting there was a good reason for it. If there isn’t, we’re dead anyway, so…

Diving and skimming over the water briefly to gain some speed with the Starshina still latched on to her back—who she noted was trying very hard not to interfere with her flight as he held onto her with his hind legs squeezing her barrel and forelegs wrapped around her neck guard—she rose again and clawed for altitude, trying to cut across the southeast end of the lake towards the hive.

There was another powerful and briefly painful blast of heat behind her she could feel on her tail and exposed hindquarters, but fortunately, she had just enough speed to stay ahead of the actual flame. That wouldn’t last much longer, though, and with the corrupted drake closing, she could only pray for deliverance yet again.

This time, it came in the form of two pillars of flame that lanced out from the hillside plateau, curving up and then outward until they were headed directly for her. Acting on pure instinct as the edges of her pink-rimmed vision were closing in and she thought her lungs were going to burst, she dove again under what she thought was the path of the large enchanted arrows. They indeed passed overhead with a sharp and very loud whoosh, heading behind her as she neared the waterfall cove she’d noted earlier.

There was a bright burst of light followed by a thunderous explosion just a second later. It was swiftly followed by a shock wave that knocked her and Karin Kazal head over heels, sending them hard into the lake at an oblique angle and skipping across the suddenly roiled surface like a stone. Her ears ringing and only barely cognizant of her surroundings, she felt herself tumbling before she skidded through the water to a stop in the covered cove itself, finding herself floating in the cool waters of the waterfall-fed pool there and looking up to see the covering branches and glitters of crystal in the slickened cliffside rocks.

Still seeing stars, and feeling barely able to breathe for how hard her heart was pounding in her chest, she glanced up and then over to see the stricken and slowly sinking form of the dragon in the lake; its weakened spine severed and chest completely blown open by the force of the human missiles. A wave from its impact then entered the cove and washed over her like an ocean breaker, picking up her limp form to deposit it on the sandy bank with the Starshina.

She tried to rise after the water receded, her hearing just barely starting to return. She blinked once, only dimly aware of the Ibex buck’s presence beside her as she found she couldn’t focus on him and her head simply wouldn’t stay up.

And then she was aware of little else as she fell atop him and blacked out.

Gilda awoke to find the sun had risen and the radio clipped to her belt was squawking.

Her chest was still heaving while her limbs and wings were shaky, leaving her feeling like she’d just run a two-thousand league marathon with them, even if she couldn’t immediately remember why. Then she recalled the gorge, the chase, the battle with the Cloven flyers and being hunted by a corrupted adult dragon drake, only to be saved by…

Her head finally cleared enough that she caught his scent and realized he was close by; she thought she might even have been lying against him given she could sense his still-ragged breathing as a movement against her body.

“Starshina… are you all right?” she called to him without raising her head, only to receive a groan in response. Still only slowly recovering her senses—she knew she’d been knocked out but wasn’t sure for how long—she realized from the presence of the cool sand and the sound of a waterfall behind them that they were in the Crystal Cove, whose location she had disdained on previous trips for not wanting to run into the rutting couples who were said to frequent it for its secluded location and beauty.

“Starshina?” she prompted again, reaching up to give his furred form a shake with her talons, and this time she earned not just a groan but a response as he began to berate her.

“By the Ancient Rams themselves… just what were you thinking, Grizelda Behertz, diving into the gorge to escape that drake when he could just fill it with fire?”

“I wasn’t,” she admitted, trying to force her head to clear as her heart and breathing were only slowly settling down. She opened her bleary eyes to find them unfocused, able only to perceive a brown blur between the still-pink edges of her vision and a musky scent in her nose. I fought the battle well, only to nearly kill myself at the end with one incredibly stupid mistake! she silently admitted. “But by the crows themselves, I’d like to see you think clearly when there’s an adult dragon chasing you!”

“I did think clearly when I saw what the result of your actions would be!” he retaliated, rolling over on his back slightly to bring the blurry bulge closer; as she listened, his breathing slowed down. “And why did you save me, Centurion? I was out of power after the teleport and only dead weight back there. I told you to flee and you could have died trying to carry me! I was willing to perish in your place and could have been out of your feathers permanently! So why did you go back for me?” he again demanded to know.

She trilled at him in annoyance. “Because you saved me, you crow-damned dweeb of a goat!And why?” she asked him right back, trying to push up off him again.

But when her still-weak limbs buckled for a second time, all she was able to accomplish was shifting her head forward fractionally further onto his wet and still-trembling form, causing something to press into her cheek and his musky scent to grow stronger in her nose.

“I’ve imprisoned you, threatened you, insulted you and even hated you to the point of wanting you dead when we first met! So why, by not just your Ancient Rams but my Ancestors, did you risk your life for me?” she had to know, wondering why her words sounded slightly muffled.

“Because, you obtuse and idiotic human-rutting hen, I—” his voice suddenly caught as he raised his head beside her, and it was only as she opened her eyes again that she understood why.

They were in the most compromising position imaginable with her head buried deep in his lower belly, filling her nose with his male ibex musk.

“Centurion? What are you…” he started to somewhat shakily call down to her.

“I…I…” Still charged up with massive amounts of cider from the earlier battle and her untaken opportunities with her human friends, her breath caught as a pulse of pure desire and something approaching vertigo passed through her, leaving her feeling for a moment like she was going to faint. Fantasies beginning to flow unbidden along with a desire to reward him for saving her; the pink in her vision intensified further as her earlier bloodlust began to quickly give way to a far more conventional kind.

She couldn't help it, and she quickly realized that either from the cider she could now smell in the air or the compromising position they now found themselves in, neither could he.

She didn't fight it. She didn't want to fight it. For she knew that for saving her, he had earned her.

And that in that moment, he needed her just as much as she needed him.

Just six minutes later, they remained intertwined on the cove’s sandy beach with badly flushed cheeks and trembling bodies, the pair barely able to stand or move after not one, but four immensely enjoyed and incredibly passionate ruts.

Six minutes had passed for their friends, but far more than that for them. He’d amazed her when, in one of the few sentences he spoke after their initial encounter, he announced he was slowing down time in the immediate area of the cove using a spell she didn’t even know existed, magically stretching the next two minutes into nearly half an hour. He said it was so they could enjoy each other’s company fully, while still being able to get back to the main force before they were too badly missed or the Cloven arrived.

She didn’t know if the cider had somehow restored and enhanced his stamina as it had hers, but she found herself beyond caring as she was finally able to relieve her endlessly building urges, spending all her accumulated passions from the past day-plus of danger and wild emotional swings on him.

They spoke little—for what could either of them say to what was happening, which violated so many longstanding taboos of their respective societies that they could be shunned or outright exiled for it?—but they also didn’t stop, with Gilda finding she couldn’t get enough of his exotic body or magical touch.

In the end, they ended up in more or less the same pose and place they had been when they started, lying on the sandy beach of the cove. They cuddled together for another minute after their final rut, with Gilda finding she loved the simple intimacy of having him in her arms.

She didn’t want to leave him. In fact, she didn’t ever want the moment to end, but knowing their friends were waiting for them and more Cloven were coming—if nothing else convinced her that the experience was Ancestor-sent, it was that they hadn’t returned before she and the Starshina were done—she finally decided that they couldn’t stay there any longer regardless of whatever magical chicanery he was using, giving him one final lick to signal it was time for both of them to rise.

Nodding reluctantly, he relented even if he didn’t quite release her; she smiled at the realization that just like her, he didn’t want to let her go. Either due to the favor of the Ancestors or the simple luck of chance, the lull in combat continued, though the desperate pleas from the radio for them that erupted after he released the time dilation spell could not be ignored. Waiting until her breathing had settled enough to talk more or less normally, she rolled over to reach for the human communication device while still laying against him.

Answering Imlay’s call, she announced she and the Starshina were alive but had been knocked clean out by the force of the dragon-killing blast, thrown hard into the cove and were only then recovering their senses—true enough, right? Even if it leaves out everything that happened in between…

When asked by a relieved Giraldi if she was okay or needed assistance, she replied after a brief pause that she would be—that she was otherwise unwounded and to not risk sending soldiers for them, given the Cloven had used the earlier foray to try and target an isolated force. She further said she would be returning with the Starshina to the abandoned hive shortly, glancing over to see him staring at her in wonder.

Clicking off the connection with a promise to return within five minutes, the unlikely lovers finally, if very reluctantly, separated after that, with Karin Kazal staggering slightly weak-legged over to the poolside to take a long drink from it. The silence stretched awkwardly between them as Gilda desperately willed the remaining stiffness of her wings to slacken and her equally shaky limbs to steady, still able to quite keenly feel him inside her as well as the ghosts of his aura caressing her. She even found herself sorely tempted to indulge in another round with him despite the urgency of getting back, finding his Ibexian attributes immensely pleasurable and his magical touch every bit as enjoyable as the caress of human hands.

Her cheeks flushed and her wings began to splay again as she stared at him, actively fantasizing about what else they might try given that her cider combined with his mating aura seemed to grant them almost limitless stamina, and even seemed to have gone a long way towards healing them both.

Wanting to feel his fur and exotic features against her again, she took another step towards him before she caught herself. By all the crows, ENOUGH, Grizelda Behertz! We’ve been lucky, but it can’t go on! She tore her eyes away and shook her head sharply as, her desires ebbing, she worried that once she’d had some time to dwell on it, she’d feel far worse about their unexpected encounter.

Worried that she’d never get over what had just happened and worse, wondering how she could face Marco or even her fellow griffons afterwards.

Ancestors above… What if they learn of this? What if we were SEEN? she suddenly fretted, glancing around her at the cove, which included the glittering, gem-studded walls of the cliff over which the waterfall fell.

She didn’t know or even want to think about it, but with radio reports of more Cloven coming around the lake from both the north and south sides to attack the hive, it also wasn’t the time for it. Like it was the time for THIS? She shook her head in disbelief, asking her Ancestors how in all the crows it could possibly have been the right time for her to have sex with an Ibex.

By all the crows, I just rutted a bucking IBEX! She found herself reeling and resorting to the old Equestrian curse, though she still preferred the human version of it. With few other options to hide his scent from griffon noses or quench her ongoing excitement, she flew out over the middle of the cove a short distance, tucked her still-stiffened wings as much as she could and dove headfirst into the deepest part of the pool.

Gulping down the deliciously clear and crisp water for a few seconds, she hoped that a quick bath and perhaps smearing herself with some mud would do the trick. She even chanced standing under the waterfall directly to let it cleanse her body and drive her remaining desires away, turning her face up into the deluge and even opening her beak slightly to let some of it soak into her system.

The Starshina saw her actions. After hesitating only briefly, he nodded and copied it, wading hip deep before dunking himself into the cool mountain water repeatedly. He then moved beside her in the waterfall; she got the distinct impression that he was not only trying to cleanse himself of her scent, but like her, take an improvised cold shower.

It more or less worked as she found her head clearing, and her remaining desires finally starting to recede. “We need to get back,” she told him after she had returned to shore and shaken the water coating herself free, beginning to pick up the scattered pieces of her armor to buckle back on.

“When you do, get your wounds treated and eat or rest while you can. This isn’t over, and we will yet need your power, Starshina.” All she could think to do or say at that moment was to act as a commander and give him an order, addressing him by his rank instead of his real name.

“By your command. But Centurion?” he couldn’t look at her for a moment, his entire manner seeming equal parts dazed and—unless she missed her guess—elated.

Gilda froze to see the mixed emotions on his face. “Yes?”

He hesitated, his blue eyes flitting to hers briefly before flinching and averting; she could only imagine that he was suffering the same flashbacks to the near-treasonous acts that she was at that moment, and worse, wanting to do even more of them.

“For the record, you were emitting an odd form of what I can only describe as an incredibly potent and almost irresistible magical pheromone. For which I strongly suggest you get yourself scanned and treated at the earliest possible opportunity,” he informed her wanly, sitting back to rub his temples with his forehooves. “I knew what it was, but I still couldn’t fight it. Even if I wanted to.”

She stared at him, certain he knew why just as well as she did. “For which you can thank your comrades in the Capricorn Conclave.” She allowed a note of remembered bitterness to enter her voice.

He winced and had to look away. “If this is, as seems all too likely, an aftereffect of the cider and fertility potion we poisoned you with? Then you have my sincerest apologies, and I accept this as a suitably ironic punishment for not just the actions of my fellow Adepts, but for myself defending them.” He bowed his head in contrition to her in an act she’d earlier reprimanded Marco for.

Gilda struggled to find a reply, but before she could, he held up a hoof to forestall it. “That said, know that I do not hate you or blame you for what happened, and I would be lying to claim I did not enjoy it greatly,” he continued, but then raised his haunted eyes to hers.

“But it must end here, Centurion. So for the sake of our mates and sanity, to say nothing of our standing among our own kind… let us never do this or even speak of it again.” He shifted uncomfortably for a moment before averting his gaze once more.

“Agreed,” Gilda replied with a grimace as she stepped upwind of him, fearful his scent alone might tempt her anew as she finished fastening her cuirass and worked on donning her two weapons belts next. So he does have a mate, she realized, surprised to feel a pang of shame. Not over being with him, but for potentially making him betray her. I’m sorry, whoever you are… she called out with her thoughts to the unknown doe. “But Starshina?”

“Yes?” This time, it was the Ibex buck who froze.

She sighed, deciding that a simple sense of honor required her to make her own admission in return. “Cider or no, I enjoyed it greatly as well. And for as much as I hate to admit it, I needed it badly and you earned it for saving me—for saving all of us at least six times over by now. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, Karin Kazal. Our races may be enemies, but you’re a good and honorable Ibex. A powerful mage. And an excellent lover.”

She added the last sentence as an afterthought as she bared her throat to him, to which he nodded and presented his horns with a renewed blush, following by giving her what she thought was a brief but longing look. “Spasiba.”

Gilda guessed it was an expression of gratitude. For a moment, he looked to her as if he wanted to say something else as he opened his mouth only to close it again, shaking his head as he forced himself to turn away from her. As she watched, he removed the water from his coat by somehow repelling it with his aura as he picked up his discarded vest, shaking out the thin fabric of his magically conductive adept armor over the pool to rid it of sand.

She was surprised to feel a moment of hurt at his refusal to respond or even look at her again, watching as he redressed himself with his protective garment while continuing to pull her armor back on. Crows take it… She wondered how either of them were supposed to get their heads ‘back in the game’ at this point, realizing he was probably trying to hide and stifle any chance of renewed excitement as much as she was.

Which means it’s probably best that we stay separated from here on out! “We need to get back to the hive before the Cloven attack again. Are you fit to travel, Karin Kazel?”

The Ibex buck exhaled heavily before he replied with a single word: “Da.” He cast what she guessed was another gravitational reduction charm on himself with his newly restored aura, then nodded, walking out of the cover and leaping high into the trees before looking back down at her, waiting.

“Right,” she said, flexing her wings and finding them nimble enough to support flight again. Taking to the air and quickly catching up with him, she darted ahead to make sure he stayed out of sight and scent as they returned to the hive, hearing him leap from treetop to treetop behind her.

She tried her best not to think about him but ultimately couldn’t, finding herself only able to remember how much she enjoyed not just the sex itself, but the simple act of seducing him.

That the thrill and pure feeling of power it gave her was as much or even more heady than that of killing the Cloven in battle.

She felt her cheeks flush again at the thought. Ancestors forgive me… I enjoyed it so much that if given the chance, I think I might do it AGAIN! she admitted in shame, praying she could somehow make amends for it to Chris, Tara and especially Marco later—for not giving herself to them instead of the Starshina when she’d repeatedly had the chance.

Fortrakt was right—I’ve been a stubborn old crow, trying to save myself for later when I didn’t even know if there WAS a later! she further berated herself, and yet, she found she didn’t regret what had happened with the ibex buck at all. Even in flight, her mind kept drifting back to their encounter, recalling his touch, both physical and magical, upon her.

She wasn’t sure if she imagined a magical squeeze of her flanks and feathery caress of her form before she landed