I felt a lump in my throat as I heard a knock on the door.
* * * *
I had never had so many people hanging onto my every word. Even friendly compliments were taken with the same religious fervor as a sermon. I learned that when I complimented a lady on her coat, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that there wasn’t some grand meaning to it. Just a bemused sigh.
There were a lot of words of endearment, and lots of young men. Seemed like word got around that I was as cute as a button. Once the whirlwind of meets and greets were done, I asked for Bishop Buryan to accompany me towards the back of the church, and into the kitchen.
Unlike the well-adorned church, the kitchen was exactly as Spartan as I imagined. A utilitarian room made for rapid creation of foodstuffs and best manned by a crew of five or more. Once we were alone, our eyes met. The two-hour estimate was generous at best. It was half an hour before people started pouring in.
“I presume you found evidence that the bridge is rigged?” I began as he sighed, dejected. It looked like he wanted to say yes without qualifiers, but couldn’t.
“No, not anything so forward. But they have far too many guards there for it to be a simple matter of keeping the people away from the bridge. There’s at least six of them, and a small camp there.” He scratched his head as I beckoned him to continue.
“I suppose if they were going to demolish the bridge…Our gunpowder stores are in the smithy.”
My heart dropped. “But if they don’t have their own gunpowder…I sent Charlotte there…” As the bishop realized what I was saying, his eyes went wide too.
No. There were people out there, expecting me. Needing me. I felt the world shrinking around me before a single thought crystalized. I am a dragon. I can save them all.
“It’s all right, go after her and I can send some people to accompany you,” he began, but I wasn’t listening to him anymore.
I looked down at the sacred text that my Mother had worked so hard to assemble, my eyes hardening into a single solid beam of light. With a heavy slam I thrust the holy text into his arms.
“Give them faith, bishop. I’ll give them hope.”
* * * *
“This is the inquisitors! We are seizing the black powder stores! Do not resist!” The sound of boots surrounded the forge as I rushed over to deadbolt the main door. Poor Karmen looked terrified. They had picked this exact time because they knew pretty much everyone was going to be at the sermon. The clever bastards.
“What do we have?” I shouted as he started counting, loading each gun and crossbow in turn.
“Four, no five crossbows! A musket too!”
The sound of the door being smashed apart rang across the forge as I knocked over tables to makeshift barricades. The metal-wood counter was going to be my best option for cover. Then a poleaxe blade broke through the door, ripping a gap.
No thinking, just doing. I pulled out my pistol from my coat holster and fired. A scream of pain, followed by black smoke billowing out into the foyer. I chucked the pistol back as the young man scrambled to pick it up.
“H-Hey! Careful! I just fixed that!” he sputtered as I heard glass shattering, the black smoke drifting to choke whichever poor fool decided to enter through the windows.
“Not the time for that!” I glanced back at him reloading my gun, going as fast as he could through his dusty goggles.
“Now, I’ll try to hold them off. You take an axe and break a door through the back wall. Got it?” When I looked down at the young man, he looked up at me with the same look as I gave Caen when this all started. A mix of fear and starry-eyed admiration.
“Y-Yes!”
This time the sound of breaking wood and the creaking of the deadlock were mixed. They were breaking in, two at a time.
I drew my remaining pistol and fired, catching one of them in the leg and toppling him with a scream. Then I rolled, feeling the harsh contours of the wood floorboards against my coat as crossbow bolts whizzed past my head. I had managed to make it behind the counter without getting shot.
Time to start shooting.
I tossed the pistol aside for one of the heavier crossbows. The kid was taking the hatchet to the back wall as the inquisitors emerged, rugged determination etched across their faces.
* * * *
I cleared my throat as the entire church stood with arms open.
“People of the Central Valley. My name is Aria, and I have been sent here not for the church, not for the priests, but for you. These are troubled times, and while the dragons watch over their frozen throne in Mithil, their wings do not protect us here. But I can change that.” There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd.
“I will change that. That is the reason why soldiers knock on your doors, why your every move is scrutinized by those bearing blades. They wish to protect you from me.” There were worried whispers from the crowd as I passionately placed a hand on my chest, a singer on the stage about to sing their solo.
“Yet, they are the ones that no longer hear Mother’s voice! They take away your safety, and then sell it back as protection! They are not guides. They are extortionists!” The shots of gunfire echoed through the church and my ears twitched. Charlotte…please hold out a little bit longer.
I stepped down from the stage, quickening my pace as I made my way to the door, continuing my speech. The rest of them got up to follow, mesmerized.
“Yet I do not intend to merely square off in the domains of faith and words. Follow, and I will see that your hope be rewarded. Together, we’ll take away this illusion of safety, this false simulacrum for a better tomorrow. For a tomorrow where the wings of dragons once again protect my subjects!”
We were in the church courtyard now, surprised murmurs following me as I looked up at the rising moon. I could see the dozens and dozens of eyes on me as I spread my wings again.
With a whoosh, an aurora of snow blanketed the awed onlookers as I took to the air, a goddess clad in scales and ice. I would hunt those that dared to hurt my love, until each of them lay dead before my claws.
* * * *
One last kick and the wall cracked to reveal the snowbank behind. After the inquisitors tried to breach the first time around, they had retreated to grab something that would let them enter unimpeded.
Now they arrived with two massive tower shields of iron, at which point Karmen started to hack at the walls even faster. They were steadily advancing now, poleaxes drawn and under the cover of their greatshields. I covered our retreat with a crossbow, but there was little I could do against the advancing phalanx of polearms.
“It’s not large enough!” the young man cried out as my back pressed up against the wall. It wouldn’t be long until I was in poleaxe range.
