A lot of people have asked me what my father meant to me. How am I supposed to answer that? I don’t think the people that ask-most of them, at least-really want an honest answer from me. They want to hear something about how when I was a child, my father taught me everything I knew and how I wanted to follow in his footsteps. To be fair, when I was young, I thought the world of my father. I still love him, of course, but I don’t view him with the same reverence that I did as a kid. So when people ask me what my father means to me, I usually tell them a story from my childhood, and they generally accept it and go away feeling satisfied that they got the answer they wanted. It’s always the same story, too. In fact, at this point, I’ve repeated it so many times I’ve practically memorized it word for word. You know, while you’re here, I might as well tell you the story, too, eh? It all happened so long ago. I was four years old at the time, so…ogre’s teeth, was it really twenty years ago? Heh, I’m getting old. Anyway, it happened when I was four years old, and we were living near the border…

            I remember it was a boring day in the middle of summer- Quintilis, I believe was the month. Valerica, you remember how my family and I lived in the countryside near Alexandrus, right? Well, let me tell you, when Quintilis rolls around, living in the south is no fun. It’s all muggy air and sweaty days. Thankfully, we lived near Lake Adrianople, so whenever it got too bad, me and Gallius could always go for a swim. Anyways, it was a dies Solis, so Father was off work. Of course, you know dear old Dad. Even if he’s not working, he’s still working, you know? I believe he was using his time off to chop firewood to store for winter. Firewood! In the heat of summer! You can say a lot of stuff about my father, but you can’t say he ever overlooked the long term. Wait, I’m going on a tangent again. Let’s try to get this thing back on track. It was a dies Solis, and I was bored. Gallius was over at a friend’s house, so it was just me and Aelia. But, of course, she was a girl! I didn’t want to play with her! The end result of this was me, sitting in my bedroom on the second floor, staring out the window like a lump on a log. I was watching my father chop wood. I remember that he was doing just as methodically as he does anything. Place log on stump, raise axe, drop axe, toss wood into firewood pile. Repeat ad nauseum.

            This went on for far too long before something interesting happened. As my father raised his axe to split the next log, I saw this huge shadow appear over him. I immediately got interested, and stuck my head out the window to see what it was. There was a huge dragon, must have been at least seventy feet from head to tail. It landed right in front of Dad, and just like that my heart was racing. This thing looked like bad news. It was like it had tried to make itself look as scary as possible. This dragon was about as black as coal, and it had horns, but not like most dragons do. Most dragons have horns that go straight back. Not this guy, though. This one had horns that started on the sides of his head and curled around. You know, kind of like a goat’s? Then, to top it all off, its whole body was just absolutely covered in scars. It had been in more than a few fights. So I leapt up and ran down the stairs. I tell you what, it’s by Talena’s grace that I didn’t trip and crack my wee skull, because I must have been taking those stairs two or three at a time.

            As soon as I got downstairs, my mother, Illyrius rest her soul, hurried over to me. You know how mothers are. She told me to stay inside just in case this dragon was dangerous. I knew that since the War, most of the dragons living on the border of Bellidom preferred to simply leave us alone, but there were a few that took a more active role in the world, some good, some bad. I simply had to go tell Dad that this was a bad dragon for sure; I suppose in my tiny mind I thought that without me telling him this, he never would have been able to figure it out. But my mother convinced me to stay inside while Dad talked to the beast. It was tense. Through the kitchen window, I could see Dad and the dragon talking, but we were too far away to really hear anything in particular. One thing I noticed, though, was that Dad wasn’t letting go of his axe. Then, in mid-sentence, the dragon-oh, come on, let’s see if I can’t remember his name. Saris…? Soren? Sa…so…Serrice! There we go. So that was this dragon’s name, Serrice of the War-Claw clan, I believe Dad told me. So I see Serrice lunge at Dad, and both me and Mother jumped. She gets down on her knees and grips me by the shoulders in that painful way that only mothers can do. She tells me to get away from the window and hide while she ran downstairs to Dad’s armory in the basement to get his sword for him. Naturally, after she disappeared downstairs, the first thing I do is get as close to the fight as I possibly can without leaving the house.

            Remembering this fight, it becomes clear to me just how brilliant a tactician Dad was, both commanding men and commanding himself. He knew how to spot an enemy’s weak points, and he knew how to cover his own. His biggest disadvantage- and this is coming from the man himself retelling the story, mind you- was the size differential. He had taken down dragons bigger than Serrice before, but that had been when he had troops to command. He was alone here. He had to get somewhere where Serrice couldn’t get at him with his jaws. So Dad crouches down and runs as fast as he can; he lodged himself underneath the dragon’s belly. It had scars, too, but barely any. This was about as soft a target as Dad was going to find. So I see him swing the hatchet up as hard as he can; he wedges it under the skin, and immediately Serrice starts dripping blood. Serrice roared and lifted himself into the air. Dad barely managed to wrench the axe free before it would be lost to him. If I remember correctly, for a split second, Dad was hanging on to the axe while it was still lodged in Serrice’s belly and Serrice himself was in the air. So Dad was dangling like a fish, from the dark dragon. But the axe pulled free, along with a chunk of dragon, and Serrice was angrier than ever. He circled around and ended up about ten feet off the ground, just glaring menacingly at Dad. What happened next was just a bit too fast to comprehend at the time. I remember seeing flashes- I saw Serrice opening his mouth, I saw Dad fling an arm in front of him, some sort of magical shout. But one second Dad’s squaring off in a staring contest with a dragon, and the next, he’s surrounded by fire, there’s some sort of magical shield in front of him, and Dad’s still completely blank-faced like a proper Bellic Soldier. Out of everything about that day, I think that’s what I remember the most vividly: Dad standing in the midst of flames, but he’s not touched by them. He’s staring down a monster dozens of times more massive than he is, but he doesn’t flinch. That’s the image I had of my Dad when I was young.

            I’ll be honest, I think that one scene has burned itself into my memory so thoroughly that the rest of the fight is kind of a blur. I know that Dad proceeded to completely stomp the overgrown lizard- with a hatchet, no less- but beyond that, it’s all a bit hazy. He did win the fight, though- after all, that’s where we got the stuffed dragon head that will forever sit above Dad’s reading chair.

            So that’s the story that I tell people when they ask me about what my father meant to me. They hear it, and they walk away with the thought in their head that I idolized my father, that I wanted to be just like him from that day forward. But, well…you know the truth, don’t you, Valerica? That event means something completely different to me than what everyone thinks. It wasn’t a day that permanently cemented my desire to follow in my dad’s footsteps. It was the day that he set an example. That was the day that he set the bar for me. He set a bar that I would never be able to reach. From that day on, everything I did would be measured against that image ingrained in my mind. And no matter what I did, it would never be enough. Every achievement of mine came up against the bar set by my father and was found lacking. There was a gnawing core of inadequacy at my core, and I began to hate myself for not measuring up…and I think, just a little bit, I began to hate him for setting such an impossible standard.

            I haven’t told this to many people, you know. There’s you, and I think that Gallius and Aelia have always known, but I don’t think Mother ever really knew. Dad might have, but I’m not sure he would have cared if he did. I wish…I wish I would have been more up front with Dad earlier. Things might have gone better then. As it stands, well…here we are. The way things are now might just be a direct result of my inability to stand up to my father. Not that anybody really knows that, though. Maybe, though…maybe I should write it down for future generations, you know? They’ll need a first-hand account of the war. Might as well be me, right? A History of the Catastrophe, by Gaius Aurelianus. Yeah. I like the sound of that.

Gaius Julius Aurelianus was trapped. His respiration was up. Sharp, quick breaths. Heartbeat was up. His heart thumped furiously in his chest. Palms were sweaty. Eyes darted around, looking for a way out, any way out. There was none to be found. There was no way that he was going to escape this. He swallowed the lump in his throat and faced the situation straight on.

            “Gaius?” Valerica waved a hand in front of his face, sporting a concerned look.”You okay?”

            Gaius blinked and he snapped back to reality. “What? Sorry, I…I, uh, wasn’t paying attention.”

            Valerica gave him a small smile, her brilliant white teeth flashing a sharp contrast to her ash-grey skin.  “Come on, Gaius, pay attention! I just wanted to know how you thought I looked.”

            Gaius took a deep breath, and nodded. He looked over Valerica, and a slight flush came to his face. Ash Elves were naturally tall, slender folk, and Valerica was no exception. She stood a good two inches taller than Gaius, who was no slouch himself. Her skin was a light grey, hence the “Ash” part of Ash Elves.

            There was no denying that Valerica was undoubtedly attractive. Her slim pointed ears poked out from a cascade of wavy black hair that fell to her shoulders. Her eyes were narrow almonds with brilliant scarlet irises. His eyes strayed downward. The silk tunic she wore flowed over her body, hugging it in just the right places.

            “You know, it’s not very polite to stare, Gaius,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “But I think I can forgive you this one time.”

            “Oh! Uh, sorry. You…you look great.”

            Valerica spun lithely on the balls of her feet, letting the dress flow in the breeze.

            “Thank you very much, Master Aurelianus. If I may say so, you cut quite a figure yourself, all wavy hair and rugged beard.”

            Gaius tugged at his toga. “Well, thanks, but I don’t think that you’ll be seeing much of me in formal dress very often. Ugh, it’s so uncomfortable.”

            “Oh, that simply won’t do. You must learn to be comfortable in anything-formal, casual…nothing.” She giggled at the sight of Gaius blushing. “Plus, you need to learn to be comfortable in that because you simply have to dance with me tonight.”

            Gaius groaned. “Really? I have to? There’s not some sort of escape clause I can invoke?”

            Valerica made a pouty face. “Aw. You’re saying you don’t want to dance with me?”

            “No! I mean, of course I want to dance with you, but…in front of so many people? In front of the Emperor? Talena help me, I might as well just keel over and die right now.”

            Valerica crossed her arms. “Well, what else can we do? It’s not as if we can announce a wedding, and then not have a dance. You’re the son of a general, Gaius. You’re going to have to get used to being in the public eye eventually.”

            Gaius rubbed his eyes. “No I don’t. I’m a priest, for crying out loud. The last thing I want is publicity. Whatever I do, I want it to be in the background. I’m just not cut out for fame.”

            She massaged Gaius’s shoulder softly. “Well, whether or not you’re cut out for it, it’s here. Come on, love, let’s make our joyous announcement, all right?”

            Slowly, Gaius nodded. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”

            Together they stood, and Valerica gripped Gaius’s hand firmly in her own. Together, they walked out of the dressing room and into the future.

            “Good evening, my honored guests!” Agrippa Aurelianus boomed. “May I have your attention, please?”

            The conversation in the ballroom died down and everyone turned to look at the aging general standing on the balcony. His salt-and-pepper hair served only to make him look distinguished.

            “Thank you, everyone. Before we come to the main event, I have a couple of words I’d like to say. Well, okay, perhaps more than a couple, but I promise I won’t torment you for too long.” A slight chuckle arose from the crowd.

            “So, as I assume you know, the house of Aurelianus has been granted a wonderful boon in my son, Gaius Julius. Well, tonight, I am very happy to announce that he has found a wife!”

            Agrippa let the crowd clap for a minute before continuing. “Yes, he is to be married. He will wed the lovely Valerica Tatiana of the house Faville! With their marriage, these two houses shall create a new union that will help lead the Empire to even greater glory!”

            Again, he let the crowd cheer. “But enough of me! I think perhaps I shall let the happy couple speak for themselves. Gaius? Valerica? How about a little speech?”

            Behind his father, Gaius silently groaned, but wore a painted smile on his face. He tried to discreetly wipe his sweaty palms on the sides of his toga. Valerica squeezed his hand, and they stepped up to the balcony’s edge to address the crowd. His eyes darted over the whole room nervously. The alabaster walls with gold trimmed tapestries on them, the marble floor, the ornate staircases, the balcony railing on which his sweaty palms now rested- everything fell under his unsettled gaze. Then, he took a good look at the crowd. As soon as he saw the size, though, he felt sick to his stomach. This was too much.

            “You think too little of yourself, love,” Valerica whispered, keeping her eyes on the crowd. “Let go of your nerves. I believe in you.”

            Right. He felt some of the tension drain away. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and steeled his nerves.

            “Good, uh…good evening, my friends. Two months ago, I had no idea where I would be tonight. To think that such an…auspicious arrangement could happen was simply impossible to me. But tonight, I stand beside my future wife, and…well, the future is bright. After all, the woman I am marrying is not only my betrothed, but also my best friend. Since we were children, Valerica has been at my side. If you told me that I would be marrying her, though, well, I’d probably laugh, heh heh. But not tonight! Tonight, we feast! Uh, long live the Emperor, and Talena bless us all!”

            The guests exploded into applause; they whistled and cheered with a feverish intensity. They were immediately silent, however, when they saw who stepped up behind the couple.

            There was no mistaking the man- his face was on nearly every coin in the empire, after all. Magnus Aetius Maximus, Imperator and Pontifex of the Bellic Empire, clapped a hand on the couple’s shoulders.

            Almost reflexively, Gaius and Valerica both knelt before His Imperial Majesty. The wizened old man, however, simply laughed- a hearty guffaw that belied his true age.

            “Thank you for your kind sentiments, son, but tonight is you night, not mine. Please, stand.” Nervously, Gaius did so.

            Sternly, the Emperor stared into the young man’s eyes. Suddenly, a smile split his face.

            “You have it, my boy. I can see that spark in you that made your father great. I foresee you leading many successful campaigns in the future. I look forward to the day you enlist!” He then turned to the crown, who still knelt. “But you, my subjects! You need not lend your ears any more to the words of a crusty old man like me. So here’s a toast: to the betterment of the empire!”

            “To the betterment of the empire!” the crowd chanted. Everyone in the room then knocked back their wine, though some had already knocked back just a bit too much. The emperor smiled at the couple.

            “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have a party to magnanimously preside over. I have to show my subjects that the emperor can drink any one of them under the table! Including you, Sir Aurelianus the Younger. Care to try me?”

            Gaius waved the emperor off. “Oh no, your majesty, I couldn’t do that. You see, I, uh…”

            “The poor lad can’t hold his drink,” Agrippa interjected before laughing heartily. “That is something he did not inherit from me. Come to think of it, he didn’t inherit it from dear Aeliana, either. She holds her liquor even better than I do! Though I don’t know if either of us could compare to your constitution, Lord Imperator.”

           The emperor shrugged. “Ah, that’s too bad. I suppose I’ll have to look elsewhere to find suitable competition. Fare thee well, Sirs Aurelianus, and soon to be Lady Aurelianus. I look forward to both of your careers with great expectations!”

            After the emperor had trundled down the stairs to the waiting party, the only people on the balcony were Gaius, Valerica, and Agrippa. Almost immediately, Gaius’s knees went weak, and his heartbeat quickened. He gripped onto the railing for support. How exactly had he managed to do that? He had never given a speech to that many people before in his life! He certainly hoped he would never have to do it again, for fear of being so paralyzed with fear that he be unable to utter so much as a single peep.

            “See, my boy? Nothing to it.” Agrippa positioned himself next to Gaius, overlooking the crowd. “You’ve got more of your old pop in you than you think.”

            Gaius gave an uneasy smile. “Sure, Dad, whatever you say. Super easy. The fact I feel sick to my stomach from the nerves is just a coincidence, huh?”

            Agrippa ruffled his son’s hair. “Nonsense! Everyone’s first time is awful! Some just hide it better. Like you did tonight. Nervous though you were, you hid that fear remarkably well. Believe me, the ability to hide fear is vital when you’re commanding legionaries. Speaking of which, I’ve got the perfect spot for you.”

            Gaius painted a smile on his face. “Oh, really. Where am I going to be…serving?”

            “Well, you see, in Martius of next year, there will be a few openings for up-and-coming commissioned officers in the New Domicus Military Academy. I figured we would get you enrolled and on the fast track to leading men of your own!”

            Gaius face dropped almost imperceptibly. “Well, that’s great, but…I mean, what about my work at the shrine? I’ve been a priest for almost three years now, Dad. I can’t just suddenly leave.”

            Agrippa frowned. “Oh, fie on that priesthood, son. It’s fine for some, but you’re destined for things so much greater! If you stay in the Talenian priesthood, that’s where you’ll be for the rest of your life. A career in the military leads to better things. If you want to end up as a governor of one of the provinces, or a praetor, you need to have served the legions. I just want what’s best for you.”

            Gaius sighed. “Well…maybe I don’t want to be a governor or a praetor, or a consul, or a Senator, Dad. Maybe I am where I want to be. “

            Agrippa scoffed. “Pish posh! A young man like yourself should be full of drive and ambition! Why, when I was your age I was already a tribune. I think once you enroll and see what a real man should be like, you’ll change your mind. Now, I’m going to drink until I can’t see straight anymore!” Without saying another word, Agrippa descended the grand staircase into the seething mass of humanity below.

            Gaius planted a palm firmly over his face and groaned. “Mercy, what am I to do?”

            “Is there really much of a choice?” Valerica said, leaning on the railing next to him. “I mean, think about it, about how it would look. You would have a prime opportunity for advancement, smoothed over by your father, no less, and you pass it up. And for what? To stay in your temple-in an order that is comprised almost exclusively of women, mind you- and keep prying eyes off you? Men are supposed to be ambitious, Gaius. It wouldn’t reflect well on you, or your family, or my family. So, even if you won’t do it for you…do it for me, all right?”

          “Well, thanks, Valerica. On top of the pressure I’m getting from Dad, now I’m gonna have guilt to deal with.”

            “Hey,” she said gently, gripping his hand. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

            “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t make it sting any less, though.”

            Valerica closed her eyes. “All right, Gaius, how about this. We forget about any huge decisions we’re going to have to make in the future. You will take me down to the ballroom dance floor, and we will have our first dance as betrothed. Then, we can go to the house my father built for us, and I’ll take all of your stress away. All right?”

            Gaius looked up at her, and took a breath. “All right.”

            She flashed a warm smile at him. “See? That’s better. I love you, Gaius.”

            “I love you, too,” he replied after only a split second of hesitation.

The Border Province of Sormacia

Twenty-five years earlier

            The air was thick with the scent of blood-almost exclusively human blood. It was a smell Agrippa Aurelianus had come to know far too well in the past three years. He had been sent to the border to reinforce the Sormacian troops in the retaking of the province, but he had never imagined that he would find a slaughter like this. He looked over the mountainous battlefield and felt sick to his stomach. The setting sun painted a grisly picture on the otherwise serene mountain landscape. It was strewn with corpses, almost none of which were whole. Almost every dead body that lay on the snow was disfigured- limbs were missing, necks were nothing more than ragged stumps, and more than a few were missing everything from the waist up.

            “This…how are we supposed to fight this?” he asked quietly, his voice leaden with despair. “They give us bows and javelins, but they’re worthless! Nothing we’ve got can down these accursed beasts! Every soldier the Emperor sends to fight in this godsforsaken country might as well be dead before they get here.”

            A dark-skinned elf in officer’s garb stood impassively by his side. “Sir, spare no concern for the dead. It will not help them. If you are concerned about the mortality rate of the soldiers, then command the ones that are still alive. Bury the dead after you have won.”

            Agrippa gritted his teeth and turned to his second-in-command. “Lieutenant Nalur, this is really not the time for your whole ‘cold logic’ bit.”

            Nalur’s expression remained stoic. “With all due respect sir, I believe it is. If you wish to save your men, then defeat the War-Claws. They are the backbone of the opposition in the dragons’ country. If you break them, the rest of the clans will scatter, and will be easily dispatched.”

            “O great Illyrius, from You all things great and small flow, and to You all things return.” The military priest prayed gravely. “So let it be with these brave souls who fought and died for Your great nation. I pray that You will welcome them into your presence with the warmth that they deserve. Please, O Illyrius, give them the peace that they have earned with their struggles in this life. As we inter their mortal coils in the earth, we pray that You lead us to victory over our foes, that we may spread the truth of your light to all corners of the earth. Let it be so.”

            “Let it be so,” the soldiers of the fourth cohort of the Twelfth Legion intoned solemnly after the priest. Agrippa shoveled the last pile of hard soil over the makeshift grave for the fallen. Despite the cold mountain air, he found himself sweating from the effort. He wiped his brow, and saw his lieutenant extend a hand to take his shovel. He handed it over without a fight, then winced when he saw the state of his hands. They were cracked and bleeding, with blisters broken open from the rough wooden handle. Maybe he should have worn some gloves.

            “Captain,” Nalur said as solemnly as ever. “We have attended to the burial of the dead. I would suggest that we retire and devise a strategy for the upcoming battle.”

            Agrippa ran his hand through his hair, then winced at the pain it caused. “Right. We’ll let the men set up camp for the night. Come then, let’s get to the command tent. Blimey, this is going to be fun.”

            “Quite, sir.”

            The pair passed through the flap of the command tent and sat down at the impromptu war table set up in the middle. Nalur and Agrippa sat down on opposite sides of the table, and took a good, hard look at each other.

            “Alright, give it to me straight,” the commander said, a grim frown on his face. “We’re not going to get out of this one with no casualties, are we?”

            “No, sir. No battle is without casualties, as you are well aware, but I will be the first to say that any battle against several dragons at once is likely to have a high mortality rate. A protracted battle is likely to neutralize most if not all of our legion.”

            Agrippa growled. “Come on, man, show a little humanity for once in your life! These are men, not numbers!”

            Nalur eyed him coolly. “I am simply expressing the facts, Commander. It is my job to supply you with information on the battlefield. Your job is to use that information.”

            A sigh escaped the senior officer. “All right, all right. I know that most of our legionaries are equipped with bows and javelins. Those don’t seem to have been particularly effective. I would assume it’s because they just don’t have enough stopping power to pierce dragonhide. Is that correct?”

            “Yes sir. It is nearly impossible to pierce a dragon’s hide with simple arrows or javelins. The dragons are simply too heavily armored…for the most part.”

            Agrippa raised an eyebrow. “’For the most part’?”

            “Yes. A dragon’s underbelly is, like most creatures, soft and easily pierced. The problem is that unlike most beasts, dragon’s are very intelligent when it comes to protecting their weak spots.”

            Agrippa steepled his fingers in front of his face. “The question, then, is how to take advantage of this. I can see a few possibilities. Okay, first: is there any way that we can increase the stopping power of our arrows and javelins? Or is there some other way around the dragon scales?”

            Nalur closed his eyes in concentration. “As for the arrows and javelins…we could reforge them with a different, stronger metal, but that is only feasible with access to a furnace and available ores. Neither of which we have in the mountains. Another option would be to take the magic wielders in the group, of which there are a few, and have them enchant the projectiles to increase penetration.”

            “Numbers, Nalur. How many mages are in the Twelfth Legion?”

            The lieutenant looked off to one side, as if doing calculations in his head. “As of the last census, I believe there are a total of about five hundred with at least some measure of magical aptitude.”

            “And in the fourth cohort?”

            “Forty-three, sir.”

            Agrippa chewed on his lower lip. He shivered in the cold. “All right, so let’s say we take the forty-three mages and get them to enchant the rest of the cohort’s weaponry. Everyone will have stronger arms, but we’ll be down a tenth of our men- after enchanting that many weapons, they’ll be spent. The problem, then, is whether it’s a beneficial trade-off, or whether we need to find a different tack.” He got a spark in his eye. “Say, how do direct magic attacks fare against dragonhide?”

            Nalur thought for a second, his crimson irises glowing like embers against his gray skin. “We don’t have many reports of it, but I believe that magic attacks will often hit harder than almost anything else we have. According to some of the magisters at the Alexandrus College of Arcane Studies, the same property that makes dragon skin so resistant to physical attacks might make it more susceptible to magic. Thus, I would say a direct attack by a magus would be significantly more effective than any assault by an archer or an infantryman.”

            A dark smile began to form on Agrippa’s face. “Really now? Say, how capable a mage are you, Lieutenant?”

            Nalur pondered the question calmly. “Well, sir, as all Ash Elves are, I am skilled in the arcane arts. Why do you ask?”

            “Because I needed to know if you could lead our mages in an assault.”

            At this, Nalur showed his first hint of emotion- a flicker of surprise crossed his face. “What do you mean, sir?”

            “Just what I said, lieutenant. I want you to take the magic users from the fourth cohort and lead them in an assault on the dragon forces that attack us.”

            Nalur’s face went cold again. “I believe that would be unwise, commander. The magi in our cohort are more lightly armored than the other soldiers. Placing them all in one unit would almost certainly lead to their utter destruction.”

            Agrippa’s grin spread. “Oh, Lieutenant, you place far too little faith in me. I can stay with the main force and act as a diversion. Any dragons that attack will invariably be drawn to us. If you take the magi and conceal yourselves in the terrain nearby, you can spring an ambush and put them to rout!”

            This time, it was the lieutenant’s turn to look inquisitive. “Yes…the potential benefits of this strategy are indeed alluring. If our force could drive back the War-Claws, we would take back the most strategic province on the border. Very well, commander. I will inform the magi of your decision. Where do you wish to set your forces?”

            Agrippa took a look at the geographical map on the table. After a second of thought, he pointed to a spot. “Right here. The Po Valley. From the scouts’ reports, it has several paths running along the walls of the canyon. If I place the main force in the valley floor, that’s where the dragons will go. You can place your force on one of the higher paths . Then, when the dragons fly under you, you strike.”

            “What if they fly above us?” Nalur asked.

            Agrippa cocked his head. “You really think they’re going to do that? They’re dragons, lieutenant. They’re smart, I’ll give them that, but they’re accustomed to always having air superiority. They’ve never had to fight anyone who was higher than them. We can use that to our advantage. Rest assured, they won’t fly above you. The caveat to that statement is that they absolutely must not be able to see you from a distance. If they see that you’re on the passes, they’ll know something’s up and we’ll lose the initiative. So. Think you can do it, Lieutenant?”

            Nalur nodded impassively. “Yes, sir. I have no doubt. However…”

            “However…?” Agrippa repeated expectantly.

            Nalur shook his head. “Nothing, sir. Pay it no mind.”

            Agrippa frowned. “Come on, man, out with it. If you’ve got reservations about this operation, then I need to know.”

            Nalur hesitated for a second. “Well, you see, sir…if we do this, I am confident that we will be able to defeat the dragons mustered against us, but I fear that it will lead to heavy casualties in the diversionary army.”

            Agrippa looked as if he was about to say something, then though better of it. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. But if we win here, it would place the empire in such a better position. This is what these men signed up for. It’s what I signed up for. I swear to Talena herself that I will do my best to keep my men and myself alive, but if we die, then so be it. We die for the empire. It’s what any honorable man must be willing to do.”

            Nalur was silent for a second before nodding silently. “Yes, sir. I understand. Shall we muster the troops in the morning?”

            Agrippa rubbed his eyes. “No, Lieutenant, I’ll be mustering troops in the morning. If we want the magi to be effectively concealed and battle-ready by morning, you’re going to have to lead them to the mountain pass in a few hours. Tell the mages to get some sleep now, and leave setting up the camp to the others.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            “That includes you, Lieutenant.”

            “…Yes, sir.”

            Without another word, Nalur walked out of the command tent and into the camp beyond.

     Agrippa sat upon his horse, dressed in just enough Imperial officer regalia to be impressive, but not enough to be cumbersome. He surveyed the four hundred-something men arrayed in front of him. They stood in standard maniple formation, several feet apart from each other in order to give each soldier the room they needed to use their weapons. Every soldier was equipped with a shield designed to deflect dragonfire, and some manner of ranged weapon, be it a longbow or a javelin. Beyond that, they wielded swords, spears and axes for close-quarters combat.  He took a good look at their faces. Some were nervous, but most of the men wore a stoic expression, making it impossible to discern how they truly felt. This was good.

            Agrippa took a deep breath and rode around to the front line. He was silent for a second before he said anything. When he spoke, it was a deep, reassuring baritone that reverberated off the canyon walls.

            “My brothers!” he shouted, throwing all the force he could muster into his voice. “Sons of Bellidom! Of Alexandrus, of Domicus, of the West Fold! I know that some of you stand before me with fear in your hearts, fear of your enemy, fear of death. Truly, I say unto you, you have no need of it! Cast it aside! Yes, our enemy is strong, but greater is the force that stands behind us! They bring claws, and fire, and gnashing teeth, but you bring the full force of Imperator Titus Flavius Maximus! What man or beast can stand when the Bellic Empire stands against them? None, I tell you! So I bid you, my brothers, to fight for all you hold dear! I bid you, my brothers, to cry ‘Havoc!’ and let slip the dogs of war! I bid you, my brothers, to stand against this horde and put them to rout!”

            The soldiers exploded into war cries, thrusting their weapons to the sky.

            That was when they heard the guttural roar echo through the canyon. Most of the soldiers had never heard a dragon’s roar before, and half of them looked like the fight had gone out of them. Then, all of a sudden, they saw six scaled beast turn the corner in front of them and perch themselves on the canyon floor about a mile in front of the troops.  Several of them growled, a rumbling bass noise that rattled Agrippa’s teeth. The two in front, though, were silent. They were each at least sixty feet long, with the dragon on the right a brilliant, shimmering green, and the left one an equally resplendent gold.

            The gold dragon looked at the forces arrayed against them and snorted in dismissal.

            “Look, Alaric, the Fangless resist us. They seek to halt our advance.”

            The green dragon, presumably named Alaric, snorted harder than his companion.

            “Indeed, Genseric,” he replied, licking his scaly chops. “I do hope these Fangless are tastier than the ones before them.”

            Agrippa stared down the monsters. He felt his own heart quiver, but it didn’t make it anywhere near his face. His visage was carved from marble, unmoving and resolute. More importantly, he could practically feel his troops quavering behind him. That needed to be fixed. He pointed his sword at Alaric and Genseric, a growl of his own in his throat.

            “I pray you listen well, new meat,” he shouted to the beasts, feeling far less confident than he sounded. “You stand before the soldiers of the Bellic Empire. The only thing I fear in this confrontation is deciding who shall get your heads to stuff and mount on their wall. However, I am feeling merciful today. I will pretend that I never saw you if you turn your scaly tails and fly away. Make sure to take your friends with you.”

            Alaric and Genseric looked at each other, and laughed. It was a horrible sound, like massive slabs of granite grinding against each other.

            “He’s feeling merciful, Alaric! Oh, by the ancestors, I do think we shall take the fearsome Fangless up on his offer. I fear for my life, brother!”

            “Quite right, Genseric. I am far too terrified by this tiny creature to think anything of tearing them limb from limb, or swallowing them whole, or roasting them on a spit! I am simply at my wit’s end with fright.”

            After another bout of rumbling laughter, both brothers locked their cold reptilian eyes on Agrippa.

            “What say we take care of the vermin and discuss cooking afterwards, brother?” Alaric asked.

            “A splendid idea, brother,” Genseric replied, a puff of smoke wafting from his nostrils. “Clansmen…dinner time!”

            With a massive gust of wind, the six dragons flapped their wings and lifted off. The canyon was only wide enough for three of them to fly in a single row at a time, so they arranged themselves in two columns, one above the other. They advanced on the soldiers like a flying fortress of inexorable death.

            “Stand your ground, men!” Agrippa yelled, drawing his bow. “Archers! Throwers! Take aim!”

            Agrippa pulled back on his longbow and  targeted the flying reptiles flapping toward them.

            “Fire!”

            Every archer loosed their bows at the same moment. All at once, a hail of arrows filled the air, whistling as the feathers ruffled in the wind. Tough though a dragon’s hide was, there was always the possibility that one arrow would find its spot. They just needed a bit of luck.

            In the arrows’ interminable hangtime, Agrippa whispered a silent prayer.

            O Illyrius, please…

            Agrippa’s heart fell into despair. Every single arrow bounced off the scales of one dragon or another. Their inevitable progress was not halted in the slightest.

            In the shadow of oncoming death, Agrippa felt his heart waver. He felt his men waver. He turned to address them.

            “Men, draw your swords. Show them that we will make them pay for every inch they take!”

            Four hundred swords, spears and axes were all drawn, and Agrippa thrust his gladius forward.

            “For the Empire! Charge!”

            The two forces charged at each other, man versus the beast. For an eternity, all was silent as the gulf between the two forces closed.

            Then time snapped back, and the War-Claws descended on the legionaries. Everything was a chaotic flurry of hooking claws, snapping jaws and stabbing blades. In an instant, Agrippa knew there was no winning this battle without help. From all sides, he heard cries as men were shredded by serrated talons and sickening crunches of bone as men were bitten in half by inhuman jaws.

            Swords were swung and spears were thrust, but every attack was deflected by the thick hide and scales. The only option was to get under the dragons and slice open their soft bellies, but the dragons knew this too. No amount of maneuvering was going to get Agrippa into an advantageous position. Every time he found a spot, a swishing tail would nearly knock him off. Somehow, he managed to stay on his mount, but it wouldn’t matter in a few minutes. Everyone in the cohorts would be dead, and the War-Claws’ position in the province would be no weaker. All of the death and pain and blood would be for nothing.

            Agrippa was jolted out of his despair when a sudden bolt of searing pain shot up his entire left side. He looked up and saw Genseric’s snout less than a foot in front of him. He felt something warm soaking into his laminar armor. He pressed a hand to his side; it came away coated in red.

            Genseric swept Agrippa up in one of his claws, and brought him to eye level.

            “Do you understand, Fangless? This is what awaits all those who defy the War-Claws. We will not stop until your capital is in ruins, and your ruler in our bellies.”

            Something stirred in Agrippa’s heart; some small measure of calm in the maelstrom of despair.

            He glared back at Genseric. “I understand perfectly well, you hellspawn. You may kill the men, but the Empire lives forever.”

            Something that could be described as a smile crept across Genseric’s maw.  It was cold, bearing nothing but malice.

            “Your courage in the face of death is admirable. I shall eat you quickly as a reward.”

            The golden dragon opened his jaws wide and Agrippa had to suppress a whimper. He braced himself to for the inevitable crushing pain that was sure to come. Still, he could be proud. He had done what he could. It was all anyone could do.

            Oh, Aeliana, I’m so sorry…

            “Forth, magi!”

            Agrippa opened his eyes when he found that he was still mostly intact. Genseric was focused on the cliffs.

            Nalur!

            From the cliffs, Nalur and the magi let fly a barrage of arcane energy; bolts of lightning and searing orbs of flame and icicle spears, all aimed directly at the reptilian menace. Caught unaware, the dragons were utterly blindsided. They took the full force of the attack.  Wings were frozen and impaled; maws were seared and bodies were electrified. Alaric was hit particularly hard- he fell over dead on the spot, an icicle wedged through his skull.

            The dragons roared in pain and fury, and turned to meet their attackers. In this split second, Agrippa knew he had to act. He still had his sword. Genseric was distracted. And from what he had seen, the underside of a dragon’s jaw was just as soft as the belly.

            “I hope you burn, monster.”

            Genseric didn’t have time to react before Agrippa’s gladius ripped through the soft tissue of his jaw and straight into his brain. The old beast was dead before he hit the ground.

            Agrippa fell from the limp claws onto the ground, and he knew that he had lost too much blood. The wound Genseric had inflicted was too large. The world was beginning to go hazy. He knew that he was a dead man, but at least now the empire would gain a foothold in Sormacia. Now he had done something that Aeliana could be proud of him for. As his vision slipped into blackness, a faint smile crossed his face.

            Light was stinging his eyes, which were caked with gunk. He opened them, and, blinking away the fog, saw that he was not, in fact, dead. Rather, he was on a cot in a white tent.

            Wait a second. This was the command tent. How-?

            He tried to stand up, but his head was spinning, and he had to sit down for a minute. While the world stopped wobbling, Nalur parted the tent flaps and walked in.

            “Good morning, commander. I see you’re awake. This is good.”

            “How-“

            “I told you, commander. I am skilled in magic. That includes healing.”

            Agrippa tried to say something, but his mouth locked up on him. Tears began to well up in his eyes, but remained unshed. He found his voice, though it was over a lump in his throat.

            “…Thank…thank you, lieutenant. I owe you my life.”

            “It’s what any lieutenant should have done, given the chance.” Nalur’s face was as impassive as ever.

            Agrippa smiled. “Sure. Whatever you say, pal. But when we get back to the Imperial Court, I’m recommending you for a full commandership as soon as possible. It’s quite a thing you did, Lieutenant.”

            Nalur’s expression remained stony, but Agrippa could sear he saw a hint of warmth in his eyes. “Thank you, sir.”

            A thought hit the commander. It made him shiver.

            “Lieutenant…how many men did we lose?”

            Nalur gathered himself before speaking. “Sir, we lost one hundred fifty men from the diversionary force and twelve from the ambush squad.”

            Agrippa swore. “A hundred fifty? Ogre’s teeth, Nalur, this is bad.”

            “If I may disagree, sir, no, it isn’t. Out of every cohort that has seen combat against dragons, this one has had the highest survival rate. By far.”

            Now there was a pill that as both sweet and bitter. But for right now, there was nothing else to do. With the War-Claws routed from the valley, the Empire would send troops to occupy the region again, and now that they had a better way to fight…they might just be able to win.

            He stood up, and waited for the dizziness to subside. He extended a hand to his lieutenant, who took it instantly.

            “Nalur,” he said, the tears returning to his eyes. “From this day forward, I proclaim a brotherhood between the houses of Aurelianus and Faville, and I declare you a brother in arms.”

            Nalur’s eyes widened slightly, but he took it in stride. He bowed deeply to his commander.

            “There is no greater honor you could bestow upon me, Commander. I am grateful for your magnanimity.”

            Agrippa clapped a hand on Nalur’s shoulder. “My brother, please do not bow, for we are equals. From this day forward, whatever troubles occur, our houses will weather them together. When I have children, I shall tell them of the bravery of the Faville house.”

            “And I shall tell mine of the valor of House Aurelianus.”

            Agrippa crushed Nalur in a bear hug. “Shame we don’t have any kids yet, though.”

            The faintest hint of a smirk crossed his lieutenant’s face. “I do believe it is possible to remedy that, commander.”