Grimoires and Gunsmoke

Eira sat restlessly on her wyvern as her hand slowly stroked along the beast's massive neck soothingly. Skadi shook its head impatiently, wanting to take off and get out of this accursed forest and back into the heavens where it belonged. The great creature longed to feel the rush of wind beneath its wings, but for now, it remained grounded, hidden amongst the dense foliage of the forest.

Skadi’s rider completely understood its frustration. Eira, too, felt the horrible ache of inaction. It was like an unending gnawing sense of unease that came with being forced to hide and wait. It went against every instinct she had as a rider—the very nature of a beast of an ancient lineage whose place belonged in the skies.

But orders were orders. And these orders were handed down directly from Duchess Vyrrasha herself. And her commanders were not to be disobeyed.

Taking a moment to survey her surroundings, Eira looked up at the thick, swirling, steamy mist that swirled above her. At first, she couldn’t help but find what they were doing foolish and cowardly, but just like the others dispersed amongst the undergrowth, they found this new tactic offensive. It was uncomfortable, cramped, and frustrating, but even though they saw the value in such aggressive ambushes, the riders still harbored a great deal of resentment.

However, regardless of this new tactic's effectiveness, Eira couldn’t but snarl in disgust as she looked around at the restlessness that permeated the horde. It was evident that a heavy toll was being taken on the wyverns by each twitch of a tail, each shuffle of clawed feet against the forest floor, and the low, agitated grumbles that leaked from the beast's scaled throats. They all shared the same opinion—that this tactic of hiding, of skulking in the shadows, was near insufferable for the war beasts.

Wyvern riders were the pride of the Empire's aerial forces, renowned for their bravery and ferocity in battle. They always met their enemies head-on, in the open sky, with fangs, claws, and flames at the ready. But to be reduced to this... it was almost felt like an insult.

But the Duchess had been insistent. So insistent, in fact, that any who refused these new orders were threatened with execution for insubordination, with their wyverns put to the sword alongside them. It was a level of severity that Eira had never seen before, at least not in all her years of service.

At first, she had thought it was the overreach of a madwoman, a tyrant drunk on power. What could justify such extreme measures? What threat could be so dire as to demand this upending of centuries of tradition and pride?

However, as a commander, she gained access to the reports and findings of an expeditionary force across the rift. A rift and an expedition she didn’t know even existed. The insanity that was the intelligence gathered by the Empire after skirmishing with whatever in the infinite hells they were fighting had left her in a state of disbelief.

Here Eira thought they were putting down some uppity rebels or launching a new offensive on the Sylvan Forest. But now she finally understood the reasoning behind these maddening decisions. Even now, the wyvern commander found it hard to believe and found the reports of the raving of a lunatic, but… But the seals belonging to the Emperor himself made Eira have to take it seriously.

The ability to strike from ranges beyond even a dragon's eyesight with exploding darts that traveled several times faster than a dragon could fly? An omnipotent, all-seeing eye that violated every inch of only dragons' and wyverns' bodies that only the beasts in question could perceive? It sounded like the deranged and pathetic mewlings of an unsound mind or the ravings of a madman like Knight Captain Shaw.

Nevertheless, who was Eira to question reports endorsed by the Emperor? If even the dragons, the mightiest and proudest of beasts, seemed nervous… Then, there must be some truth to what she had read. For all her severity, the Duchess was not one to act on mere whims or paranoia.

A cringe formed on Eira’s face when she recalled that insufferable man. Shaw was a name that made her want to spit in absolute contempt as she wondered what her lord was thinking when promoting a man that had such an unsound mind to Knight Captain. Instead, Eira decided to occupy herself by adjusting her riding helmet and straightening her high-altitude jacket while waiting for the signal to commence the drill.

Turning her head to scan the forest one more time, Eira’s eyes picked out the shapes of other wyverns and their mounted riders hidden amongst the dense forest. They shuffled restlessly in the dense foliage as their heads turned upwards towards the canopy, longing in their eyes.

While their wild Wyverns were used to laying in wait to ambush their unsuspecting pretty, their domesticated cousins found the opposite more natural. Domesticated Wyverns were bred to be conspicuous and were selected based on their size, strength, speed, and ability to bond with a rider to be the perfect aerial mount. However, selective breeding was a double-edged sword and removed certain traits over time.

Domesticated wyverns didn't have the disposition to hide and patiently lay in wait for the right moment to strike. They were instead creatures of action, creatures of direct confrontation. Asking them to skulk and ambush was like asking a lion to behave like a mouse.

It made these new tactics difficult to execute. Every instinct, every fiber of a wyvern's being, rebelled against this kind of cowardly tactic that the rider struggled to suppress and keep in check. The beasts wanted to roar, soar, and meet their foes in open combat.

But regardless of how any of them felt, they had a duty to fulfill and the realm to defend.

Eira was there with their eyes closed, rubbing the neck of her beloved Skadi, soothing him as he let loose a low, discontent grumble. “Soon, boy…” She cooed, lowering her head and pressing it against his scales. “Just a little longer…”

Skadi let out a pitiful whimper as it shifted uncomfortably on its feet, wanting nothing more to punch through the canopy as it unfurled its massive wings.

The woman couldn’t help but to scowl. She could feel how unhappy her companion was, and she shared Skadi’s sentiment. They had already conducted this drill almost every day over the past week or so, and every day, they were becoming more efficient, but it never became easier.

Silence and a thick tension reigned throughout the forest as every rider and mount looked upwards towards the canopy, coiled like a spring ready to release. All were waiting with bated breath except Eira and Skadi. The wyvern commander kept her eyes closed as she stroked the neck of her wyvern in a comforting manner. She was focusing, honing on the sounds of disrupted airflow of something large pushing through the air at great speeds through the chants of spells and the growls of beasts.

But soon, Eira caught such a sound. Her eyes shot open, and she grabbed the guiding handles of her mount's saddle, causing Skadi’s wings to extend in earnest. There was a veritable flight of beings seemingly speeding through the air just above them.

Catching the cue, the rest of the wyvern wing under her command did the same.

"Ready yourselves!” Eira yelled as she turned her head towards her flight, who seemed as ready and eager as she was. “We make for the skies! You know your roles!” She turned her head in the other direction, shouting orders. “Stay with your Lieutenants! Never cluster and listen to the instinct of your wyverns when they sense danger!"

The atmosphere in the forest changed instantly. The angsty energy that had permeated the wyverns and their riders transformed into a taut, coiled readiness. Every beast and rider was wound to its limit, ready to unleash at a moment's notice. The discipline of the finest aerial corps in the realm was on full display.

Several tense minutes passed as they waited, each second feeling like an eternity. Then, Eira saw a figure scrambling to reach an elevated clearing with a large horn clutched in his hands. Without hesitation, the individual put the instrument to their lips and blew as hard as they could, releasing a deep and resonant sound that echoed throughout the trees.

In perfect unison, every wyvern slammed its wings downwards, blasting itself upwards towards the canopy, bursting through it violently as it propelled itself skyward at breakneck speeds. Eira gritted her teeth as the sudden acceleration pushed her down onto the pedals at the rear of her saddle. She used them for maneuvers, such as the g-forces threatening to squeeze the air from her lungs.

A skin-searing heat enveloped her as she and the swarm of wyverns tore through the dense magical mist maintained by the mages before ripping out into the cold, starry sky on the other side.

The temperatures caused Eira to cringe. The air itself went from a painful, searing heat to a crisp nightly chill. However, her cringe soon changed to shock when her eyes looked up. As she and her wing broke through the dense fog, they stared at a scene straight out of a fable. A horde of mythical beasts darkened the skies with their presence while flying high in strange formations.

Eira and her flight had already conducted this drill several times already, but the sight of so many dragons in one place at one time never failed to take her breath away.

It was equally as majestic as it was terrifying. The only thing that beat this sight was the contingent of large feather Seraphic Dragons leading them at the head of their formations. Their sleek and majestic forms streaked through the heavens at unfathomable speeds.

The wyvern commander couldn't help but gawk at the sight of the legendary feathered beasts. Before these drills, she had never seen one in person and only heard tales of the prim and proper Seraphics from the heart of the Empire. To witness them here, however… leading the charge against the mock enemy force was a privilege she had never expected.

But even her awe of the Serahics was soon overshadowed when she turned her head around to check her flight status. The sheer magnitude of the formations taking shape around her, punching through the dense cloud of steam in organized formations, made her swell with a pride that was hard to describe. Clusters of different flights led by different wyvern commanders popped out of the forest from every direction, with each group oriented towards their designated opposing force (OPFOR).

It was a complex dance carefully choreographed by the leadership to most efficiently dismantle their enemies' air power. The aerial tactics on display spoke of hours upon hours of planning and strategizing that would then be put into unending drills. Each flight, each wing, and each rider knew their role in the grand scheme of the battle.

And then, as if on cue, the mages began their rites.

The mage circle climaxed from the ground below as they unleashed numerous group-casted magic missiles. Various beams of various shapes erupted from the forest and tore through the lingering wisps of steam before racing toward the heavens. That dazzling display represented every color imaginable—vivid reds and oranges, brilliant blues and greens.

It was like a rainbow given form and purpose—a violent spectral barrage that let out deafening crackles and hissed as it lit up the night. The beautiful display overshadowed the full moon and promised a horrible, quick demise as it raced towards heaven.

Mystics were tethering these mass-casted magic missiles, chanting away fervently, slaving them to the eyes of Seraphic Dragons who guided them toward their intended targets. But as the pillars of light streaked upwards, Eira's gaze was drawn to the targets. There, flying higher than any wyvern could ever hope to go, were a pair of absolutely massive Seraphic dragons that seemed aimlessly to loiter far above the main body of dragons.

The first of the pair shifted itself gently to change direction, fully displaying its dazzling red feathers, which gleamed like polished rubies in the moonlight. At the wing tips, each plume was tipped with gold, creating a shimmering effect as the dragon turned. Its eyes were like molten amber, holding an intelligent yet seemingly lazy glow as if the beast was simply uninterested in what was happening.

Beside it flew a darker grey seraphic whose feathers were like the color of rolling storm clouds. Streaks of vibrant yellow arced through its plumage, reminiscent of lightning flashing across a turbulent sky. Its eyes were a piercing blue that seemed to be a lot sharper and watchful than its lethargic partner's.

Regardless of how either of the two dragons carried themselves, they still moved with a grace that belied their size. It was as if they were like living works of art, embodiments of nature’s elements.

Eira’s gaze turned from the two loitering monstrosities and turned back to the numerous group casted magic missiles that were speeding into the sky. Just looking at it from the point of view of a layman, one could tell just how dangerous these concentrated beams were, but as a mage conferred with the title of ‘skilled,’ Eira could sense just how dense each missile really was.

For a moment, Eira felt a pang of worry course through her. The sheer destructive potential of these projectiles was enough to make her breath catch in her throat. But the wyvern commander also knew her worry was for naught. The outcome of such a deadly attack was predetermined, just like all the other drills she had taken part in over the past few weeks.

The two massive beings didn’t even bother paying the projectiles any mind. They snorted haughtily and cast what Eira could describe as layered barriers with soft bends in the path of the incoming magic.

And upon impact… the effect was spectacular.

Each magic missile slammed into the barriers, causing intense and deafening kinetic explosions that shattered the layers of the barriers. Sparks from the impact flew in every direction, turning into a dazzling display of light that soon turned into flakes of magic that evaporated into nothingness.

The Wyvern commander had seen this almost every day since she partook in these exercises, and each time was as impressive as the last. This was especially true when she saw how the two feathered dragons continued their lofty flight as if nothing had happened. It truly highlighted the distance between a mortal and a being of their caliber, which was like heaven and earth.

Their scaled Draconics thralls were already terrifying with their physical prowess and powerful breath attacks, but the sheer magical mastery the Serapharic draconics had was truly horrifying. The power and control they held over the arcane always remind Eira of why their empire spanned so far and why their subjects feared or worshipped them. Seraphics were not just dragonoids but living embodiments of the arcane.

With a shake of her head, Eira forced herself to refocus on the task. She still had her own objectives to complete and targets to engage. Gawking at forces far beyond her was not something she could afford at the moment.

So the wyvern commander reached to the side of Skadi, unsheathed her blade staff, and began concentrating her power on the large focusing stone embedded in it. As she sped towards the dragons acting as the OPFOR at a lower altitude, Eira started to chant a spell in her mind to prepare herself for what she was about to unleash.

Eira furrowed her brow as she mustered all of her brain power to accurately recite the illusion spell that the Duchess's mages had literally forced into her head. The incantations felt strange on her tongue. They were of a branch of max that Eira had zero experience in, but it was abundantly clear that this spell was imperative for everyone to learn.

As she began to vocalize the spell, a smokey white light whiffed from her focusing stone, and at the same time, the very same light lit up on every blade stave of every rider in the sky. The air filled with a chorus of voices, all chanting in unison:

"Aear-calad, thar-giliath, maeth-alagos!"

The words seemed to ripple through the air like a tremorous wave as Eira and her cohorts stabbed their blade staves forward. Some of the riders failed to fully actuate the spell, having their waves of mana fizzle out into nothingness, but most channeled their will and formed the shape they were looking for.

A moment later, a dazzling amalgamation of light erupted a hundred or so meters in front of Eira, conjuring a rough mirror image of her wyvern flapping in the sky. The illusion was irregular, holding inaccurate proportions and a ghostly form that appeared mostly translucent, but the image was still unmistakable.

More importantly, the spell carried weight, and the distorted airflow left in the image’s wake caused Skadi to make fine-tuned wing adjustments.

Impressed with her improvement, Eira let loose a giddy cheer. Her illusions, shape, and fluidity increased significantly from the last time she cast this spell. The wyvern commander’s sentiment seemed to be shared throughout the flight as the swarm of wyverns had, quite literally, doubled in size. The quality varied– some of the actual illusionists managed to cast near-perfect replicas after tutelage from the Ducchess’ mages, while others were hazy and indistinct like her own– but the overall effect was undeniably impressive. Where once there had been a formidable force hurtling, now there appeared to be an overwhelming one.

Eira grinned viciously at the fake swarm ahead. She didn’t quite know why this would be that useful, but the wyvern commander assumed it would make for an excellent weapon on the first pass with the enemy. Once they come to a merge, their opponents would be confused and start attacking the replicates while the real riders went in for the kill.

As they flew towards the dragons acting as the opposing force, Eira couldn't help but wonder how these tactics would fare against the invaders. Would these ambushes be practical or even necessary against them? She read of their strange weapons but found it hard to believe anything other than overwhelming success with the amount of Draconics and Seraphics on the field.

However, as the thoughts of invincibility went through her head, Eira knew to step back and not let such foolishness take root. Instead, she focused on the growing anxiety that began to gnaw at her, especially when her gaze returned to the two massive and most likely Ancient Seraphic dragons deflecting oversized magic missiles like child's play.

Not only had those pompous feathered bastards bothered to show up, but they were also actively participating in these drills. To put the icing on the cake, they were even taking it seriously enough to lower themselves to allow mages to use them as target practice…

If they took this new enemy that seriously, then… their threat must have been significant.

A chill ran down Eira’s spine as she tightened her grip on the guiding handles on Skadi’s saddle. She had always known, somewhere in the back of her mind, that something big was coming. But now, as she flew through the sky surrounded by the Empire's mightiest forces, the reality of the situation truly began to sink in.

If something was dangerous enough to drive a celestial dragon away, along with its contingent of thralls...

Eira shook her head and focused her attention forward on a dragon that was a little over 2000 meters away. She didn’t have time to dwell on silly questions. She needed to put these new tactics to the test and master them.

"Isil-gûr, râd-anor, pilin-galu!" The chant for a magic missile spell left her lips as she shot her blade staff forward again, throwing a narrow red light toward her target.