(POV Brick — Chief of the Sprites)
From the top of my favorite fir tree, I can keep an eye on everything.
Let's see...
Huh? What? Wait...
Dragons?
Three of them.
Massive. Ancient. Terrifying.
Not just any dragons.
THOSE dragons.
They haven't been seen in thousands of years.
Oh no.
No no no no no!
Something's wrong here. Seriously wrong!
I have to warn the others. Now!
I throw myself down the trunk and sprint through the village.
"Alarm! Alaaarm!!!" I shout at the top of my lungs.
I'm panicking.
My tiny heart is hammering so fast it hurts, but I can't stop.
"Everybody out! Alarm! Get out here!"
I summon all the High Elders. They need to know.
Every village in our realm needs to be alerted.
Then I rush straight into the Council Hall.
Norc, Plic, Ploc, Grin, Gren, and Drill are already there.
Fairy Gamy too.
Good.
"Hurry! Gather around!"
We sit around the great circular table.
I can feel all their eyes on me.
Need... to breathe...
"What happened, Brick?" Gren asks.
He's curious. I get it.
I point toward the top of the tree visible through the window.
"I was up there..." I say between breaths. "A-And I... I... I saw them!"
I can barely breathe.
"Calm down. Who did you see?" Norc asks.
"The Three Dragons!"
They exchange stunned looks.
Nobody says a word.
Then they stare at me wide-eyed, like their eyeballs are about to pop out of their skulls.
"You mean..." Ploc whispers. "The Three Ancient Dragons?"
"Yes! Them! And their Riders too! Something huge is happening! Hurry—we need to go meet them and prepare to receive them!"
"Let's go," Gamy says immediately, heading for the door.
We follow her.
Outside...
Darkness.
We all look up.
The entire valley beneath the mountains has disappeared under the colossal shadows of the three dragons.
Their enormous bodies shimmer beneath the sunlight, powerful enough to make the air itself tremble.
One of them—the one ridden by the gnome Fheall—has transparent scales scattering rainbow light everywhere.
I'd forgotten what they were like...
Pure power.
They lower their gaze toward us and begin descending.
Oh Mother Above... hold onto something.
"Quick! Stay together! Grab hands!" I yell as violent currents of wind slam into us, threatening to blow us straight off the mountain.
It's not enough.
We desperately cling to rocks, tree trunks, doorframes—
Come on... come on...
They're landing.
The controlled impact of their bodies against the earth finally stills the raging winds.
But down there...
An army is coming too.
What does that mean?
"Well met, dear friends."
I lift my gaze toward Aeltiàfisar.
Centuries have passed, yet none of his grandeur has faded.
"Welcome, Knights of the Golden Light," we answer in unison, bowing deeply.
Gamy looks confused for half a second before hurriedly copying us.
"No need for formalities. Make yourselves comfortable. Would you mind if we camp here for the night?"
"You are most welcome," I reply at once.
"Good."
With a fluid, almost unreal movement, Aeltiàfisar leaps gracefully from his dragon.
His brother and the gnome follow after him, their expressions grave.
This is bad.
Very bad.
"We need to talk."
Exactly.
(POV Iarrthòir)
I'm done. Absolutely done!
These oversized idiots are never going to learn how to control their own strength.
And I'm supposed to train them in a matter of days?
Ridiculous.
"What are you DOING, you overgrown gorilla?! Not like that—NO!!!" I scream.
That moron almost smashed me with his club! Damn it all!
I rip my crown off and throw it onto the ground.
"That's enough! I'm sick of all of you! You're nothing but brain-dead piles of fat!" I roar.
Then I pick the crown back up, put it on again, and storm off.
I need a drink. And silence.
Where's my wild thyme juice?
Ah. There it is.
The bottle's still cold.
I pour some into a little bowl for my bat and hold it out to him.
"Want some too, my love?"
Watching him drink is oddly comforting.
Honestly... probably the only comforting thing left in my life.
"What a disaster, Battino. You saw that too, didn't you? At least the Orcs know how to fight together. The Trolls are hopeless. Clumsy, sloppy, incapable of understanding strategy or tactics. Their only instinct is to smash whatever happens to be in front of them—enemy, ally, doesn't matter. What a disaster..."
Damn. Already empty.
I need to talk to the Orc woman.
I toss the bottle off the cliffside and head straight toward her cave.
"Urchoicha!" I shout as I barge into her quarters.
She's standing over a massive cauldron, slowly stirring a thick dark liquid.
Without stopping her low muttering spell, she lifts her enormous head and glares at me in annoyance.
"What do you want, Gnome?" she asks after finishing the incantation. "You'd better have a very good reason for interrupting me."
Gnome?
Gnome who?!
Overgrown mountain beast!
The rage. The sheer rage.
I want to kill her.
But I can't. I need her.
I take a deep breath and swallow my pride.
"I need your help."
She stares at me, clearly surprised.
Then a smug grin spreads across her gigantic face.
I hate her.
"Sorry, I must've misheard you. You? The greatest warrior of all time? You need me?"
"Not me," I grumble. "All of us."
She rolls up the sleeves of her robe, suddenly paying full attention.
"Alright then. Tell me. What is it?"
Finally.
"We need magic. A potion. Anything that can knock some sense into those Troll idiots, or having them on our side is going to become a massive problem! They're incompetent! They fight each other the same way they fight everyone else!"
(POV Urchoicha)
This tiny little parasite is giving me a headache.
He keeps stomping in circles, waving his arms and screaming like a lunatic, utterly devastated by the idea that—for the first time in his life—he might not be able to command and train someone.
His little flying rodent shrieks nervously around him.
Probably hoping he'll stand still long enough to land on his shoulder.
They're almost funny.
Honestly, if I didn't personally need every force in our army functioning properly... I'd enjoy letting him spiral just for the pleasure of refusing him.
But in this case...
I've decided to cooperate.
"Fine. I understand," I interrupt him. "Give me some time to think. By tomorrow morning, I'll deliver the most powerful army you could possibly imagine. Now go. Leave me to my work."
The Gnome stares at me.
He looks stunned. Confused.
But calmer too.
Then he leaves.
(POV Fheall)
Night has fallen by the time the army finally settles into camp.
Most of the soldiers are already asleep.
Baelkers, Aeltiàfisar, the Sovereigns of the Sea and the Gnomes, the Sprites Councilors, General Varsos, General Ceansì, and I have gathered on the shoreline overlooking the sea.
We need to decide what comes next.
"If only we could learn something about the children..." Crill says grimly. "Reaching the Inner Realm has become impossible. Even for us."
I stare at him skeptically.
Then I turn toward Gamy.
"Isn't it your realm?" I ask, confused.
Her eyes darken with worry.
"It is," she replies softly. "And at the same time... it isn't anymore. After Aileen and the others entered it, a strange energy barrier rose around the realm itself. To this day, none of us have been able to break through it."
Is something like that even possible?
I look toward the sprites, searching for confirmation.
Norc nods.
"It's true. I even tried using the Power of Destruction to force my way inside." He scoffs bitterly. "And guess what? It did absolutely nothing."
What?
"But that's impossible..." Baelkers whispers, just as shaken as I am.
"And yet it happened."
"Yes," Gren says darkly. "And that is not a good sign."
This is far worse than I imagined...
And no... I don't believe the destruction of the Sigillum is behind this. Not entirely.
A heavy silence settles over the shore.
Thoughtful. Uneasy.
Then, after a while—
"Why don't we combine our magic?" Adalberto proposes. "If we merge all of our energies together..."
"...we could create a core powerful enough to push back against the barrier," Aeltiàfisar finishes. Slowly, he nods. "Yes. It could work."
"If you truly intend to do this," Baelnes interrupts, "then tomorrow you'll need every ounce of your strength. Go and rest."
We barely react.
Who could possibly sleep right now?
But the moon is already high above us, and the first day of travel has drained everyone.
My gaze drifts toward the meadow nearby.
Ceatha is resting there peacefully, his massive back rising and falling in slow, steady breaths.
"You're right, Baelnes. Thank you," I say at last. "Come. Let's return to our tents. At dawn, we meet here again. Tomorrow... we begin."