[Hlaeth] Ch 20 - Flying Maneuvers

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            “An odd alternative is to be wearing or conjure up a parachute to save you,” I continued. An image of the Elder Dragon falling spun into being, and then cables fell up and away from him, followed by a truly monstrous canopy of cloth, a harness sprung out of nowhere to carry him with creaking effort as it slowed his fall down to something manageable. Around him, humans with parachutes spiraled down as well, their mid-air antics and aerobatics clearly showing they had some control over their descent.

            “Another alternative, if the area is not dimensionally Interdicted, is to immediately Blink or Teleport yourself via some means outside the area or down to the ground. Teleportation effects normally disperse falling momentum.”

            Again, Elder Cangrill plummeting from the sky. A whispered Word, and the Illusion of the Bronze Wyrm was suddenly on the ground far below, much to the surprise of the scattered forces below waiting for him, which he promptly began to tear into.

            “Lastly, if you are on the ground already, invoke a spell to accelerate your speed afoot and get out of the damn area of effect at top speed.”

            The fighting Illusion of the Bronze Wyrm, which the dragons all noticed was moving with remarkably appropriate balance, speed, power, and tactics, suddenly jumped away and bolted from the fight in a straight direction, his long tail switching back and forth to dissuade any pursuers from getting too close, heading for the edge of the Field at a speed only the magically-enhanced or swiftest of coursers might be able to catch.

            “Pretty much any time we put up a Stillflight Field, we also put up Interdictions, so the dimensional movement trick won’t work with us. We train our flying mounts to instantly lock into a glide, do a wingover, and get out of the area of effect if they can. They can generally glide faster than those on the ground can pursue, so they can usually get out of the area if they’ve enough altitude. If not, they’ve got some momentum when they hit the ground so they can run away.”

            The image of a group of brightly-plated knights on pegasi unfolded in front of them, flying over an orcish horde. The translucent effect of a Stillflight Field snapped out, and immediately the whole flight was plummeting from the sky.

            A second later their wings were locked out and they were spinning over on their sides, heading back in the direction they’d come at decent speed, even if they were dropping quickly.

            The orcs on the ground were shouting and pursuing, some of them on great boars and the like, but most of the pegasi made it out of the area of effect and immediately snapped their wings for altitude. The rest hit the ground running, easily keeping ahead of the axe-wielding orc riders, soon hit the edge of the effect, and hopped back into the sky quickly enough.

            “Takes training and practice on the part of the mount, but luring enemy forces without that protection or experience into the area of a Stillflight is a great tactic.”

            A horde of goblins on great dire bats were flapping eagerly in pursuit of a force of griffon riders, who they outnumbered probably twenty to one, passing over an infantry force below. The shimmer of a Stillflight Field raced past, and the griffons dropped, but locked their wings out and focused on gliding straight ahead.

            Behind them, the bats and their goblin riders fell out of the sky, flapping and flailing impotently, out of control and spiraling or just plain plummeting down to their dooms toward the spears waiting below. 

            The griffons smoothly hit the edge of the Stillflight Field only a few dozen yards above the ground and swooped away with regal pride, leaving the goblins and their bats behind to be butchered.

            Dragons and elves hummed in approval at the tactics and skillful flying and discipline I was displaying for them.

            “Do all your spellcasters display such Illusions to accentuate their words?” Copper Rimbiter asked, both amused and impressed at the displays.

            “It’s only a Cantrip-level effect to learn, so it is extremely common, yes. It prevents misunderstandings and provides real reference points, scale, as well as displaying accuracy of memory, events, terrain, and any individuals involved. Seeing something displayed is far more precise than merely hearing of it… although it does take away something of the storyteller’s art in doing so,” I acknowledged the Copper Wyrm, who grinned knowingly and inclined his head at the point. “Also, it is an Illusion, not a Recollection. I could, for instance, be displaying things that are blatantly untrue and which never happened, almost as easily as I could simply pull events from memory.

“It is an alternate method for conveying and enhancing information, and everything depends on the individual using the method. No more, no less.”

            “Yes, well, when one is a Truthspeaker, it has additional meaning,” the senior Gold Wyrm pointed out for everyone’s recollection.

            “I won’t deny that. Clarifications help Truth along a lot,” I agreed with him. I noted a small party of elves arriving on an intercept course with us. “Courtier politics. Who and what are they?” I asked in general, not turning my head.

            The dragons all glanced that way. It was not flagrantly done, but it was clear that the elves were going to intercept us one way or another. “That is Crown Princess Amethyst,” Silver Styllaris informed me with some amusement. “Interesting. Perhaps word of your Singing has piqued her interest. She is notoriously irrepressible once she is interested in something, and doubtless believes she can charm a mere human without any effort.”

            Commander Tellusian’s description of her hadn’t been too much different, although it had been underlaced with desire. Apparently the crown princess was extremely beautiful, and all the red-blooded male elves were attracted to her. Catching her attention could cause all sorts of envious complications.

            “It is a pity my wife is not here. The number of women she’s made piss themselves after meeting her gaze when they tried to come on to me is not small.” Chasing off the gold-diggers, as it were. The only lothario who’d tried it on Diana while ‘living up to his rep’ as the Monarch of an Allegiance of carousers and Minstrel-y swashbucklers had ended up losing his entire Allegiance when my scorn fell upon ALL of them, and radiated out to all of the Steel, and thence to all our allied Monarchs. 

            They’d not been able to do business ANYWHERE, and been completely frozen out of Council business entirely. Even Melody had shunned them, despite being a kindred soul.

            If you were going to spit on Vows before Amana and Harse, did you think anyone else was going to find you reliable?

            Some of them were actually wise enough to approach the Mother’s Church and ask for repentance, changing their lives. The rest were tooling around, torn between their pride and arrogance of being powerful and not needing anyone, and all the right people looking at them like they were complete shits.

            As for the twat, he was nursing broken dreams somewhere in the Free Towns, unable to accept responsibility for his actions and dreaming of revenge as his soul Fell to ever-darker Hues, something he refused to see.

            Huh. Hadn’t thought about that twat in some time actively. No doubt he’d tried pulling something with Diana now that I was known to be missing… and was probably dead if he did.

            “Minor aspects of the Sublime Chord are actually part of the core power of draconic spellcasting, so it’s not unreasonable for her to have an interest in it if she’s a Heartsinger. Is she a student of the art, or merely a wielder of it?”

            There was a moment of hesitation as the dragons considered how to diplomatically phrase their reply. “Her lessons do seem to be centered towards enthusiastic usage of the more, ah, glamorous aspects of the magic,” Copper Rimbiter spoke up in amusement. “She is an avid student of them, and not so much the rich depth and history of the magic,” he noted with humorous politeness.

            “So, a charmer, not a scholar,” I summed up. “Maturity level?”

            “The elven court is not a gentle teacher to those who tread it,” Silver Styllaris contributed smoothly. “But she is still young.”

            Which sort of said it all. She even had an Astral Ward or similar spell effect going on to protect against mind-reading and Aural examination, advantages of having rich and powerful parents.

            Feature popped up his head to give me a good look at her as she and her entourage drew closer.

            Definitely an entourage, as she was the heart of it and holding court among the others. She was indeed extremely lovely by human standards, with fair skin and lavender hair that was not at all standard among elves, and not an affectation, either. She would have been voluptuous by elven standards, knuckle-biting by human standards, and was dressed in shades of purple and gold that played off her hair and eyes marvelously. The Glamour woven about her made it look like the light was singling her out to twinkle and glitter upon her, giving her a subtle spotlight that guided the eyes about her to her easily and naturally.

            I could see the magic more easily than I could see her, as it was.

            Feature thought she looked like a quick snack, so there was also that. The only elves we had experience with back home were hunting fanatic stalkers and murderers.

            Accompanying her were several fawning young male elves attempting to court her; a long-suffering and patient female spellsword bodyguard; the wiser dark-haired moon elfin friend who put up with her; a gaggle of other young elfin who were both friends and servants at the same time, with at least one being an actual maid to her… and a full flight of six more invisible bodyguards aflight behind her, just in case of trouble.

            I might be all sorts of dangerous while surrounded by all these Wyrms, after all.

            “Our native language is involved with the evolution of the Heartsong?” Elder Coronus spoke up a bit louder than was absolutely necessary, emerald eyes twinkling as he followed the shift of the conversation effortlessly.

            “The Theurgic evolution of the magic between the Arcane and Heartsong Traditions starts with the Draconic language, and counterbalances with the Fey on the Bardic side of matters. You can’t take Class Levels in Lore Theurgy without knowing both tongues as a result. One side of the equation is power, and the other is charm, both with their own approach to the Elemental nature of things…”

            I politely stopped as the other party reached the crossroads first, waiting for them to pass. The Wyrms, arrogant and proud as they might be, were also patient and polite, and tolerant of the foibles of the young.

            “Elder Coronus, Elder Styllaris, Elder Clangrill, Elder Rimbiter, Elder Laufengel, and Elder Urblingfoa,” the lilac-haired elven princess stepped forward and bowed respectfully. No need to acknowledge the two elven officers trailing behind us. “You seem to have an unusual guest with you today.”

            “Your Highness, may I present to you Master and Monarch Aelryinth of Heaven, Magos, glaus nûrg mönt.”

            Gold Corunus’ accent was totally impeccable, and there was just the slightest twitch from her, while half her escort blinked in shock, while the rest weren’t quite sure they’d heard right.

            He was ranking her BENEATH me!

            The Gold Wyrm turned to me. “Master Aelryinth, may I present to you the Royal Crown Princess Amethyst Sidheshalar, eldest daughter of the blood.”

            No mention of other titles, appellations, or accomplishments, as they were not worth mentioning to me.

            I watched long and narrow fingers clutch ever-so-slightly at the dress she was clutching in a passionately artistic curtsy.

            I went with the Wyrm’s assessment of matters, returning only a nod to her. “Your Highness. Have you come to see me to your parent’s court so soon? The Elders have not finished extolling on the beauty and history of your gardens as yet.”

            Since they hadn’t really started on that process, that was totally true.

            The princess took the opportunity to straighten up and regard me. She was staring me in the face, but I was looking about two feet off to her left, so eye contact wasn’t a thing that was happening, either, and what I was looking at wasn’t her physical beauty.

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