Steel and Tempered Souls..

Fin Emiya Porsoon gazed up at the ash colored sky and shielded her eyes as a torrent of flame arched across her line of sight. She stumbled backwards and tripped over a jagged stone. She hit the ground and groaned and lay stunned for a moment as she let the stars stop dancing before her eyes. The drakescale shirt she wore saved her from any scratches or cuts that the rocks might have caused and the oversided helmet, she had been forced to stuffed cloth padding in it to help it fit better, kept her from bashing her brains out. Neither help keep the breath from being knocked from her lungs. For a moment the din of battle was drowned out by the ringing of her ears. She had managed to not lost her grip upon her sword, for small favor for which she was eternaly greatful. It would be her luck to have had Fin Areen, or one of the others come upon her. Their snickers after the battle would have been a shame near too much to bare. A Fin never released their sword as long as enemies remained, that was the first lesson that had been drilled into her. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth in an attempt to draw the air that had been knocked from her lungs back in. A dark shadow passed overhead, however, and forced her to struggle to her feet, air or no.

She watched and gave a slight shuddered as the massive form of a great, grey scaled dragon soared less than twenty spans above her head. She shielded her eyes as the wind from its wings cast up dust and small stones into the air. Either the beast was on her side, or it was too busy fighting its own duel as it ignored her instead of burning her to cinders. The sky was full of the creatures. The rolled and turned and twirled, spewing fire and smoke and poison at each other, and at masses of troops upon the ground. Sometimes one would swoop down to grab something from the ground, only to carry it far into the air and let it drop. Sometimes one swooped too low and a bolt of fire or lighting would shoot from those troops. It singe the beast and send it roaring back into the air. Mages, Emiya thought with a cold shiver, though she could hardly tell the Empress's mages from the Traitor's. They were like the dragons, better to stay clear of them all just in case.

She gripped the hilt of her sword, Tarra, tight. The cold of the steel give her some measure of comfort, though the blade was as new and untested as she herself. That she even bore the title Fin, showed how desperate the war had become. She was of the Pors, the bladed warriar caste, those allowed to own and wield a sword. She should have been of the Suwn, the untrained, not Fin, a master of the blade. She had only seen her thirteenth summer, she was still two years away from her comming of age, two years away from when she and Tarra should have been tested.

Yet here she was, Fin Emiya. The Empire was at war with itself, everyone that had the right and at least the basic training with the blade had been thrust into war in the Empress's Glorious name. She thanked the gods that they had not assigned her as a commander. They had enough of their senses left at least not to put a girl that had never seen a battle and a newly forged blade that had yet to spill blood in command of troops. She took a deep breath in an attempt to steady her nerves. She was Fin, she was above petty fear, hers was to serve the Imperial Family and the Empire and bring honor to her family. She was a blade of the Empire, following an honored tradition dating back over a thousand years. For a moment, Emiya wished she could give the butterflies that were trying to eject her last meal from her stomach a lesson on honor and history.

She let out her breath. It came out more ragged and shaky than she would have liked. She had to find Areen and the others. They had been separated when a dark robed man leading a pack of the Traitors beast-men hand come upon them. Her horse had thrown her, a humilation she was sure Areen would not let her live down, and she a had come close to being tampled to death, but someone had cut down one of those fur wearing heathens and it had fallen ontop of her. One of his fellows had then seen fit to die fall atop him. By the time she had managed to dig herself, covered in thick, black blood, from the bottom of the pile the melee had shifted and she found herself the only living thing in sight. She shuddered at the memory of the creatures crushing weight and the stentch that had clung to them, a foul animal reek. They had both wielded axes, not ban, she was careful to remember to call the weapons ban, not swords, the things were not Pors they were not worthy of wielding swords.

The terrain was rough, with large outcropings of rock utting up from the ground like skeletal ribs from some long dead beast. She considered for a moment, then desided to risk catching the attention of a dragon or some beast- man archer or Traitor mage and climb atop one of those smaller outcroppings to try to catch sight of Areen's banner, or that of any other Lord Fin. From her perch she spotted a unit of Norlian soldiers fighting hard with a larger group of beast-men. The soldiers wore leather jerkins studded with metal, and faught with spear and long knife, none of them weilded the sword of the warrior caste, muchless the heavier scale or chain armor or the Fin. They were, however, the closet allies she could spy. She cursed and slid from her perch. She was honor bound to go to them and take command, as it was appearant they had lost their officer. She was Fin and they were common soldiers, conscripts at that if their gear was an indication. She wondered what god was laughing at her. The command she had dreaded had just been thrust upon her.

She snarled as she ran, anger oozing into replace her trepidation. She began to grin, ready now to vent her frustration and cleave her way through any foe that was unlucky enough step before her. She had almost reached fight, when a shriek pierced the air. Emyia skidded to stop and lift her gaze just in time to see the great red drake flail its tattered and bloody wings. The dragon roared and vomited flames into the air in dread and pain and rage as it pummated. Emyia was thrown from her feet by the burst of dust and wind the dragon caused as it crushed to ground, landing right in the midst of the soldiers and beast-men. She coughed and rubbed at her eyes choked and blinded by the ash and sand. She managed to stagger to her feet and murmered a quick prayer for the men. She did not have much time to mourn before the dragon which had felled the red from the sky swooped low. It its jaws opened wide and fire spewed forth to envelope the fallen dragon. Emyia felt her blood run cold as she watched any chance that some of the soldiers had been survived the dragon's fall die in cinders. She fell to her knees. She retched, and cough as the scent of dust was replaced by sulfur and burnt flesh.

She watched in horror as the dragon fell upon its fallen and still blazing foe and began go feast upon the fiery carcous. The beast was larger than a cottage. The head reminded her of the slinder snouted crocidlies she had seen in the rivers farther south, though it had two great horns that jutted out just behind its eyes. Its scales were silvery white; they caught and reflected the fire and seem to glow white. Its long, slender neck was like that of swan, with scales for feather. The body was large and powerfuly build thick muscles moved and flexed under its silver hide, and it had four legs ending in with three taloned toes. Its wings were great silver sheened membranes. Its eyes were silver, like pools of liquid metal. It was the most beautiful and most horrible thing that she had ever seen as it gorged itself upon its cannible meal, its eyes shining with inhuman relish.

It was one of the dragons fighting for the Traitor Nazarin Narluwn. Emyia went cold as she felt the blood drained from her body, she could honestly feel it as it pooled in her feet. Only one of the Traitor's tainted dragons would commit such an attrosity. Emiya looked on horrified at the creature, and knew that she looked upon her death. It bent its head to tear a chunk of meat from the dead dragon's flank, then paused. Its long, serpenantine neck turned. Its gaze fell upon her and it sniffed the air, and moved from atop its meal towards her. Emiya pushed herself back and her eyes wide and filled with terror. There were stories, legends of great Fin that had slain dragons single handedly. Emiya, however, had no illusions as to her abiltity to fight the thing before her. It would attack, she would put up enough of a fight that she might chip one of its scales, and then it would eat her. That was if it desided to play with its food and not just incenerate her where she stood. She clenched her teeth and consuled herself that when she met Areen in the afterlife she could say that it took a dragon to kill her. That the dragon had been the first true enemy she had faced wouldn't need to be mentioned.

"A girl child," the dragon's voice was a low purr. Emiya griped the hilt of her sword with both hands and held it before and over her, as she lay on her back on the ground. The dragon's head moved closer and it sniffed again.

"I am Fin Emiya Porsoon," Emiya informed it surprising herself when her voice didn't come out a whimper. Her heart hammered against her chest and licked her lips. She was to die and so desided a little bluster do any more harm. "I will give you your life if you leave this place now."

The dragon gave a low, feline like sound that she supposed was a chuckle.

"I smell your fear girl child. It smells sweet." It blew hot air out of its nose at her. Emiya gaged. "I am fond of the taste of girl child, a rare find in such a place...and a virgin also. You shall be truely sweet."

Despite the situation, Emiya felt her face grow red at the comment.

"I, w-what else would I be but a virgin, lizard," she growled. The blush on her face meant her blood no longer felt as if it pooled in her feet. Fear had lost slight ground to moral indignation. The dragon chuckled.

"You are Fin, doesn't your kind learn to rut as you learn to play with your silly blades. I am surprised you do not smell like a whore as most females of your caste do."

Fear went into tactical retreat in the face of the rampaging, beserker hordes of moral outrage. The dragon flicked its tongue along its teeth. Emiya got to her knees, then to her feet and pulled her helmet from her head and flung it to the ground. Her shoulder length red brown hair was plastered to the sides of her head by sweet. She shook the locks free then turned to face the dragon with hard, cold eyes. She still held as much confidence in her ability win as the dragon, who pulled back its head and chuckled, had in her. The differance now was that she planned to do more than chip a scale when swollowed. She would meet Areen in the afterlife with one of the beasts teeth as a trophy.

"Are you ready then?" the dragon asked. Emiya gave it a curt nod. The dragon grinned and steam seeped from between its teeth. With a roar, the beast moved, its head darted like a viper, its massive jaws snapped shut like a steel trap. Emiya wasn't sure if it was blind luck, or the will of the gods that saved her. The roar had caused her to flinch and put her off balance and caused her to stumble. The dragon's jaws snapped shut where the girl had intended to dodge, instead of the way she had fallen. She growled as she brought her sword towards the beasts neck as the head sailed over her. Her blade had been forged from good Norlian steel the day she was born. It had been presented to her on her tenth birthday, she had named it, as all swords should bare a name, Tara after the legendary female Fin. It could cut iron as an ax could cut wood, and leave nary a nick on the blade. It struck the hard scales of the dragon, and bounced off. Emiya let loose every curse she had ever heard. The dragon paused and pivited its neck to peer at her and snicker.

The beast stuck again, this time the attack was slower, due to the akward angle of the creatures neck. Emiya dodge again, and again luck or fate smiled. The bracer she wore on her wrist got caught by the horn over the dragons right eye. It twisted its head, coiling its neck around trying to snap at the girl, who gripped at the horn and pulled her feet away from the creatures jaw. She aimed a blow for its eye, but the dragon closed it and the blade glanced off ihe lid. Still Emiya held tight to the horn and slashed at the dragon's face and head with her sword with no effect except to annoy the beast. The dragon roared in irritation and shook its head fiercly trying to fling the girl from it, but she clinched her teeth and held tight. She pulled herself closer and wraped both of her arms around the horn. She closed her eyes and held on for dear life, and began to scream profanities at the enraged beast.

Emiya peeked out at the dragon's eye prepared to strike it if it so much as gave her a slit. The wound would be unlikely to kill the beast, but she would go to her grave happy to have half blinded it. She felt the flames and heard the pop and crackle of flesh and bone before she realised what was was about to happen. The dragon had wondered near the still burning body the dragon it had killed. It thrust its head into the flames to try to burn the pest off. It had its eye closed, however, so it had missed the one flaw in its plan. It thrust its head into the fire, and as it did, it rammed its neck against the dead dragon's head. Sparks flew from the force of the impact as one of the dead dragon's horns tore away a patch of the silverwhite dragon's neck scales. The dragon flinched back from the pain adnd in doing so saved Emiya. Her hair was singed; her body felt as if she had laid for days naked in the sun, but she was alive. She released her embrace of the dragon's horn but held tight still with one hand. Her sword flashed silver as it ached towards the now naked patch of flesh at the dragon's neck. Good Norlian steel dug deep into soft dragon flesh.

The dragon's neck exploded in a guyser of steaming, red blood. It roared and reard back on its hind legs. It tried to flap its wings, to take flight as its red life gushed from its open viens. It fell back and hit the ground hard, the bones of its wings snapping under the weight. Emiya was thrown from the dragons head. The beast made one last feeble attempt to snap her as she flew threw the air. She landed with a thud. Emiya hit the ground and rolled a few paces before she crashed into a boulder and came to a halt. She lay still for a moment, then groaned and pushed herself to her hands and knees. Her face and neck bore small, bleeding cuts on her red skin. She was more than sure that one of her ribs had been cracked, and she wasn't sure her right leg would hold her weight. She goaned and and twisted to sit on her rear, her back agaisnt the boulder. She tilted her head and looked down at hand. Tara was still firm in her grip. She smiled, then yelped and jerked her hand back, letting go of the sword. The blade was stained red and faint wisps of steam rose from it, heated by the dragon's blood. She shook her hand and began to scoop hand fulls of dirt on hilt to cool it off.

A few moments later, Emiya rested her head against the rock. Her eyes wondered over to the corpse of the silver white dragon. The end of its tail continued to twitch. She had killed it. Her first battle. The first blood her sword had ever drawn. The first enemy she had ever defeated. As she sat and let the enormity of it sink in, one thought drifted through her mind. Areen would never believe her. She looked down to her still steaming sword. If the legends were true she would have her proof there. The weapon that killed a dragon was forever stained by the beast's blood. She closed her eyes. The battle still raged, she could hear the sounds of it from almost any direction, and over head the dragons still clashed. She sighed and hoped the next person she saw held a sword and not a ban.