Alex’s pawn, Elle, a slender elf with lustrous black hair, took the other saddle of his rook. She was the second healer in our group, our hope to survive if something went wrong. I felt slightly awkward. I should have gotten my own birdie a long time ago, but I never had enough time to get the skill points for that. I had to ask friends for help.
“Hey, Cat! Come here; I have a free seat!” Nico boomed, pointing at the second saddle of his mount. While I climbed and seated myself in the rook’s elaborate harness, Mook gave out orders on take-off and allocated the directions. We ran late and got a short and colorful epithet from the leader of our group, Argentum, whom I knew from my days in Liberty.
It looked truly magnificent, hundreds of birdies simultaneously taking off from the ramparts and flying into the distance. The wind howled in my ears as the rook gained speed. Airship sails loomed ahead. The giant city below grew smaller as we got farther away from the ground. I watched the smooth rows of phalanges on the gate square, the soldiers bristling with sarissas, and saw the avalanches of other clans’ winged squadrons sliding forward above and below us. Like cogs in a colossal machine, thousands of players set into motion, carrying out coordinated maneuvers.
“Look, they’re starting fires!” Nico shouted without looking back, pointing somewhere below, at the round tower platforms with siege trebuchets. Tiny figures that looked toy-like from up high were loading up the wooden spoons with projectiles — large, heavy rocks or missiles coated in fuel oil. At the sound of a horn, they sprung up, loudly clicking and sending dozens of presents toward the unknown target. Whom were they firing at? The enemies weren’t close to the city yet. But then I noticed an odd glow around the missiles as they traveled along a steep parabola and saw them change trajectory on the go, flying toward the hills. The Fairians clearly had a powerful telekinetic artifact or a group of mages who guided the missiles.
Leaving a smoking trace in their wake, the missiles stopped halfway, hovering in the air like flies caught in a spider web. Then they flew back at an accelerated speed, breaking all laws of physics. Ananizarte reflected the attack! I heard terrified screams of people on the battlements as they saw their blazing “gifts” return to them, followed by a growing hiss, the sounds of thumps, and the barking of cannons. Fires broke out in several spots at once. One of the towers collapsed after a direct hit, burying scattering soldiers under a shower of debris.
Argentum: Have you seen it? Her Telekinesis is off the charts!
Evil Mook: Don’t get distracted; they’ll figure it out without us. Keep up, newbies!
Milky-white fog filled the air as we entered a cloud and, after a few seconds, rose above the cloud layer. The Fairs were out of our sight — all we could see was a fleecy plain that reminded me of an endless, snow-covered steppe. Obeying the commands, the raid soared above the clouds, staying at maximum altitude.
Evil Mook: Scouts, heads up! You must lead us to the spot right above them! Seekers, wake up! Report, then start rising toward us!
The silence on the Courier channel was short-lived, as was the flight above the serene clouded flatlands that didn’t seem to care about the ongoing global events. A host of black dots, swirling like a beehive, started swarming far below us, as seen through the gaps in the clouds. They rapidly rose in size, having spotted us and rising to meet us.
Following Mook’s calm orders, the raid separated into multiple compact groups fanning out in many directions. Most of them left, sharply turning around, but several teams headed to meet them, aiming straight at the billowing wave of enemies.
Annoying screaming sounds sliced into my ears, blending together. If you heard a drax cry once, you couldn’t mistake it for anything. Black-winged silhouettes dove out of the clouds, approaching us, close enough for us to make them out. So who were the drax riders, the bulk of the House’s air cavalry? Those short sharp-toothed Irchi of a special breed were taught since childhood to control the terrifying scaled pterodactyls. They were armed with a powerful bow and a pack of jerids, heavy darts that could pierce shields and armor when thrown from above.
Evil Mook: Use scrolls for ranged combat and accuracy. Move closer to engage and start firing at the NPCs. No high-priority targets. Don’t scatter; stay close. I am the anchor point for the group leaders; follow me.
Argentum: Group sixteen, attention! Assist for primary target. Assist for secondary target. Prepare yourselves, fire on my command. Don’t forget buffs and Dragon Venom.
I wasn’t a fan of that stuff, but there was no getting around it. I felt the pleasant cooling effect of the Arrow of Luck and the Eagle Eye buffs, significantly increasing my firing distance, damage, and crit. The shining tip of my arrow turned blue with Dragon Venom. For a second, I tuned out and closed my eyes, trying to identify the rook’s rhythm and meld with it, as the instructors had taught me.
We were already close. Shrieking, the dark wave of draxes rose from the clouds, and we could already make out their long fanged beaks, the claws in the creases of their leathery wings, and the riders pressed against the backs of their mounts.
Argentum: Move in! Take aim! Three...two...one...fire!
I found the red mark of the primary target, estimated the deflection, and fired an arrow just a second after the command. However, that turned out to be enough — turned into a porcupine, the target immediately fell
