When the army had largely retreated into the distance, some of the high-ranking dragons descended. They shifted into their human forms, picking off stragglers with their bare hands in savage displays of strength. Kaleb's father was among them, and Minx watched as he casually broke the back of a screaming Plurn with a knee strike. Stepping over the body of his defeated foe, Kaleb's father approached with a wave. “You did well, keeping them at bay till we arrived. I suppose we got here just in time.”
Kaleb met his father with a tight hug, chuckling. “I wish you'd been here earlier! It took you long enough!”
Minx watched as the sky was blackened with smoke. Her daydreams and visions had been plagued with this kind of destructive scenery for a long while. She'd always imagined her homeland engulfed in flames, her people crushed—it had never occurred to her that such visions of destruction might apply to her enemies. She watched the last of the army retreat into the distance and wondered if Torrent had been among them.
Perhaps he had been orchestrating things from the rear, or else he'd sat out this round.
Whatever the case, it felt incredible to deal him such a decisive defeat.
I guess that's it, huh? We really won, uttered Mau.
We won this round, yeah, replied Minx.
She never once doubted that this round was merely the first of many, of course.
Chapter 25
The aftermath of the battle brought many things to light.
The First, supreme leader of the Fae, presided over a special session of the High Council. He'd been thoroughly pleased with the outcome, and heaped praise on the brave warriors who had defended the Trading Center during the siege. He gave special mention to Minx's father, thanking him for his leadership and courage. Various prisoners of war had been taken after the end of the battle, and each of them were tried in the court of Pan. Their sentences proved harsh—though those who were willing to provide information about the army and its leaders were granted more clemency.
From these prisoners, some interesting intel was obtained—intel which pointed to dark machinations that had been for some time in motion.
The powerful and enigmatic Torrent had planned to send dragons into the lands of the Fae in the hopes of conjuring up great strife. He'd hoped to inflame the old prejudices and incite new wars between the two races. Others corroborated Torrent's alleged fascination with Fae and dragon hybrids, though none could definitively say what his ultimate aim was in this area. That the recent troubles between their peoples had been stirred up chiefly by Torrent, The First and the members of the Council hadn't the least doubt. Much had been whispered about his power—his profound magical abilities. He was regarded as a threat during these proceedings, but the Fae leadership remained uncertain just how serious a threat he truly was.
For Minx, the hours after the battle were a blur. She had gone with Kaleb and Mau back to her place. There, the three of them had collapsed, dazed and exhausted. Kaleb had drifted off in Minx's bed, snoring peacefully, while Minx and Mau had curled up beside one another next to the bed frame. They might have remained there, sleeping, till the next day, had they not been awakened by a hard knock at the door.
Minx awoke first, sitting upright. “Y-Yes?” she called out. “Come in.”
The door opened, and standing on its other side was none other than Kaleb's father. Clad in his rust-colored armor, he smoothed out his beard and stepped into the humble abode, sparing her a gracious nod. “Hello, I'm sorry to disturb you. I've come to collect my boy, and to thank you for saving him.”
“Oh, I see...” Minx stood. Kaleb was still snoozing, his face sooty and hair tangled after the battle. She nudged him carefully. “Kaleb, wake up. Your father's here.”
The dragon shifter jerked awake mid-snore. “Huh?” he muttered, sitting up. “I wasn't sleeping, was I?” Meeting his father's gaze, he wiped the heaviness from his eyes and stood up. “Ah, hey. What's going on?”
“Nothing much. I've come to collect you,” continued his father. “Let's return home, shall we? It's time we get back. Your mother is worried sick, I'm certain.”
“Go back?” Kaleb cleared his throat. “Already?” He glanced at Minx. “I, uh... Well, to be honest, father, I was hoping to stick around here awhile. You know?”
His father chuckled, but appeared unmoved. “Perhaps you can stop in for a visit sometime, but now we must return. I'm afraid we've wasted enough time here already. Our only moral obligation is in the defense of our homeland. We must return to the mountain, lest we fail in our responsibility. Come, Kaleb.”
“Hold on,” insisted the young dragon shifter. “Why do you say that? After everything that's happened, I thought that... you know, maybe our kinds could move forward.”
“Move forward toward what, exactly?” pressed his father.
Minx stepped in. “We're stronger together. The dragons and the Fae compliment each other, we could be great allies in the future. After this battle, surely you agree?”
Quite unexpectedly, Kaleb's father chortled at this, dismissing Minx with a wave of his hand. “Stronger together, you say? You mean well, miss, but I don't adhere to that line of thinking. Our kinds are divided for a reason. Distance is better, in this case. I'm glad that we were able to assist today—consider it our way of saying thanks for rescuing my boneheaded son. But no... I don't believe in this joint future you speak of.” He turned to Kaleb, beckoning to him. “Now, Kaleb, let's return. We have a duty.”
“Do you
