As we approach the castle, Eryadon’s forces are a solid wall between us and the castle. They believe us to be an invading force.
Rumors that me and my people killed their former king and that I stole the princess have been spread far and wide. Winterhold’s army stands behind them. Together, their numbers are equal to us and the Dwarves.
A great field lies between us, pristine green grass and various flowering plants dot its landscape. Before this day is over, it will be covered in blood and fallen soldiers.
Prince Fredrik sits on his horse on the front line, readying to give the order to charge as we stare at each other across the battlefield.
King Edwyrd rides at the head of his men as they approach. His army stops and I watch as he moves out toward the middle of the field and stops. “Soldiers of Eryadon!” he calls out. “Long have our people been allies and friends. I come before you now to tell you the truth. Your queen is not who she says she is. She is a Goblin witch disguised as a human. She and her lover, Prince Fredrik of Winterhold are the ones responsible for the death of your king.”
“Lies!” a voice calls out from across the way.
“It is truth!” Edwyrd replies. “Your princess was saved by her Elven husband. Rivenyl is not your enemy and neither am I.”
Fredrik raises his sword, ready to give the command to charge when a thunderous roar fills the air.
Their heads whip toward the sky and they stare gaping as Veron flies overhead. He swoops down low and releases another bellowing roar. He dips his left wing to reveal Lyana atop his shoulders, dressed from head to toe in her armor with a bow and arrows strung across her back.
“Soldiers of Eryadon!” she cries out. “Your queen has deceived you! She and her lover—Prince Fredrik—betrayed your rightful king—my father—to his death and would have sent me to mine if I had not escaped with my husband!”
I observe as several Eryadon soldiers level dark glares at Fredrik, atop his horse.
She continues. “I have come with the Dragon of Eryadon, the Dwarven army of the Nylrian and Ferylan Mountains, and the Elven army of Rivenyl to take back what is mine! Which of you will follow your rightful queen and deliver Eryadon from the hands of her enemies?”
As one, the soldiers of Eryadon raise their swords to Lyana.
Veron releases another rage-filled roar, shaking the ground beneath us.
“I call for revenge for the death of my father!” Lyana cries out. “I call upon every true soldier of Eryadon to drive out the invaders who would try to take out lands!”
One of Eryadon’s captains releases a battle cry and charges toward Fredrik. The others follow suit, attacking the soldiers of Winterhold.
Undeterred, Fredrik raises his arm and emits a war cry, urging his guards to attack.
His men rush toward us.
King Edwyrd and I exchange a look, and then charge forward with our armies.
The ground shakes as galloping hooves thunder across the earth and men release battle cries in a cacophony of noise.
Veron swoops down low, releasing a stream of fire along the back of Fredrik’s ranks. Screams of agony echo across the fields.
Queen Rina orders archers on the wall to target him, but everyone knows regular weapons do not work on dragons. Only those forged of L’omhara can pierce his thick scales, and Lyana said Eryadon had few of these in supply.
Veron spreads his wings wide, twisting at the last second to take the rain of arrows, shielding my mate from any harm. I watch in triumph as they bounce harmlessly off his scales.
It seems the queen’s archers either have not found the right arrows, or have yet to use them.
I’m hoping it’s the former.
As we approach, Fredrik’s men crouch in battle formation, shields up and spears out. I lean forward and swing my sword in a wide arc, pushing away and breaking several of their spears as my steed charges through their line.
I turn just as one of the men shifts into his Wolven form. He barrels into my side, throwing me from my horse. Before I’ve even landed, he wraps his arms around me, snapping his massive jaws at my face. I twist, narrowly missing his sharp fangs, and plunge my sword deep into his chest.
I jump to my feet and another attacks. We tumble to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs, each of us trying to pin the other beneath them.
My heart pounds as I slam my fist against his chest, forcing him back, only to have him replaced by yet another Wolf.
I extend my nails into sharp claws, and rake them across his throat. A spray of dark blood splashes my face and armor, but I swipe it away as I attack the next one.
Panting heavily, I surge to my feet after I take down another. My armor, I note, appears undamaged. The Dwarvish steel is much stronger than I’d expected.
Taking advantage of a momentary break, I cast my gaze to the sky and watch as Lyana launches an arrow and the dragon shoots fire toward the queen.
Rina throws up a shield of magic, protecting herself from the flame and the arrows.
A deep rumbling growl forces my attention back to my own battle as another Wolf hurtles toward me. I swing my sword in a wide arc, cutting through his chest.
Veron swoops low and opens his mouth, releasing a torrent of flame on the ground between the army of Winterhold and the castle, cutting them off if they dare try to retreat behind its heavily fortified walls.
A lone figure appears on the outer wall, staring out at the battle. I recognize Queen Rina immediately as she movers to a new position. She raises her arms and sends a blast of wind toward the flames, smothering them quickly.
With the use of so much magic, she is unable to hide her true form. I observe as it falls away to reveal the Goblin beneath. With lavender skin and long purple hair. She holds up her hands, gathering a glowing red orb of magic between them, readying to cast again.
Fredrik appears so shocked that he drops his sword. It is just as the witch in the cottage told us. He did not know his lover was a Goblin.
With her disguise gone, so is her heavily swollen abdomen. Rina was never with child as she claimed.
Fredrik shifts instantly into a massive dark brown Wolf. He releases a piercing howl, stopping all his men in their tracks as they turn to him. “We have been deceived!” he cries out. “Kill her! Kill the Queen!”
“No!” Rina calls to him. “Stop!”
“My kind will not fight and shed blood to defend a Goblin witch!” he yells.
She throws her hands, sending the orb spiraling toward him.
Fredrik leaps out of the way, but not quick enough. It catches his side, sending him sprawling.
“Save the Prince!” several of his men call out.
A few of them rush toward him. Gathering him in their arms, they place him on a horse and spirit him away, while the rest continue to charge toward the castle.
Rina throws up a shield as Veron flies low and releases another stream of flame directly over her.
Her arms shake from so much use of her magic. It is only a matter of time before she will be too weak to cast.
Her eyes are wide as she struggles to hold her protective shield intact.
I observe as her image flickers and distorts a moment before reappearing. It seems she is too weak to transport herself away from here as well.
Veron lands close to her, on the wall. Lyana slides from his back and approaches. “Surrender now or you will be shown no mercy.”
Rina drops the shield of magic around her and raises her hands. “I surrender!”
