Shards of Felwyn

The Great Burning Hatred

The next day passed too quickly for Cosmo's comfort. He was awakened by Molniya at dawn and trained within an inch of his life on not just physical combat, but lightning magic as well. Having not practiced since he was in Ogof, he was defeated numerous times before the day's end.

After having a skimpy supper that left his stomach growling for more, they were told to retire for the night. He awoke the next morning with dread burning a hole in his gut. He breathed deep and stood on the dry rocky ground, illuminated only by the violent morning sun.

"Good morning, Cosmo." Elias spoke to him softly from across the room. He rubbed his arm, which was bruised badly from the previous day of training. He had sparred with numerous ogres yesterday, managing to best several in combat.

"Good morning, Elias, how are you?" Cosmo responded, mimicking his cordial behavior out of habit.

"It would be a lie if I were to say I am well." Elias responded, with an uneasy expression painted on his face and his eyes glued to the ground. "However, I know that Tatiova watches over us today. I know that for each of us that falls in combat today, if there be any, there will be another soul amongst the beautiful fields of flowers in the most sacred ruins of Paladin's Peak. And they will be standing at Her side, where I will one day join them."

Silence washed over the two as Hiner, Molniya, and Lysander began to stir. Cosmo was always dumbfounded at Elias's ability to replace fear with faith in any situation, no matter what was on the line. Today they would be battling a primordial force that predated most of Felwyn by hundreds, if not thousands, of years. It was more powerful than any of them could imagine. And yet, as Cosmo looked around the tent, he was thankful to have not just Elias, but Lysander, Molniya, and Hiner alongside him in such a battle. He smiled.

"I'm happy to be here alongside you all." Cosmo spoke as he stood up, gathering his armor and Dragon's Focus from his satchel nearby. "Let us choose the path towards victory."

An hour later, the three tribes stood in unorganized regiments, each in front of their respective leader. Cosmo, Lysander, Elias, and Molniya stood in front of Dreyniv, whereas Hiner stood among the healers of Kran. Cosmo and Lysander were already swaying in the sweltering morning heat, but were determined to press forward.

"Alright, listen up!" Lord Silár bellowed with enormous volume, his voice carrying over the entire crowd, silencing them. "That," he pointed off into the distance, directing their eyes towards a mountain range that dwarfed all those in its surroundings. The tallest of the peaks scraped past the clouds, the summit shrouded in white. "Is Folcanrog's Domain. I am sure you are all familiar with it, as we have made it a location to avoid for as long as you have lived."

"Today," Queen Rasseyat continued. "We defy that pattern. We have had little time to prepare and learn to coordinate our efforts, but please listen closely to our plan and there is a chance you will make it out alive." She paused. "If we succeed today, we experience a life without tyranny."

"Alright," Dreyniv picked up where Rasseyat had left off, talking in an uncharacteristically loud voice. "The main advantage that beast has over us, other than the extraordinarily powerful flames from her mouth, is flight." The crowd nodded in agreement. If Folcanrog could not fly, she most likely would have died long ago. "We will attempt to even this part of the playing field first. Those that cannot wield a bow will attempt to pierce the dragon's wings with spears." Cosmo looked around as the crowd shifted uneasily, clutching their weapons of choice. Lysander wielded a bow, while Elias clutched a spear in each hand, as well as several strapped to his back. He was unaffected by the weight.

"Hopefully, however," Dreyniv continued. "You will need not worry about accuracy. Myself, as well as my daughter Molniya and a magic-user named Cosmo are proficient in lightning magic. If we can lay just one devastating blow on one of Folcanrog's wings, the entire battle will be over." The crowd settled at the mention of this. Dreyniv was smart to make an attempt at taking responsibility off of the soldiers' backs a little.