A Witch's Spell, or How the SkyKnights Saved Dragon Christmas, or Home for the Havendays.

[triadorion]

 

Title:  A Witch's Spell  -or- How the SkyKnights Saved Dragon Christmas -or- Home For The Havendays
Series: Original (Project SkyKnight / DragonHaven)
Rating: PG for EXPLOSIONS
Pairings:  Hints of Manfred/Fatima, largely one-sided.
Genre: idfk. Light action, light drama.
Stars:  Manfred Vaeris, Celia Espellomente, Fatima (mentioned), SkyKnight Squadron

Summary:  A short story whipped up for fun, involving the SkyKnights saving Dragon Christmas with jet fighters and some introspection and discussion with his not!sister by a fighter pilot about an attraction that never took off before she vanished from the Havens.

Look, what do you want, I wrote this for fun in one night , not to be something deep.  Enjoy it for what it is: just a little bit of extra character development that I never threaded out.  Enjoy anyway.  :V

Stars filled the blackened sky, filling the heavens with thousands of twinkling lights on the coldest, crispest night of the year. The cold on the ground was brisk, almost bitter, though the still winds down below prevented the bite of a harsh winter. Surprising, as the winter nights in the desert often proved to be quite cold. Still, though the sands below lacked snow, the air above managed to be even colder, and though formerly silent, the sound of steel birds tore through the night.

 

Not far from the skies of Trigleph, four fighter planes flew in tight finger formation against the night sky, barely visible save for the warning lights on their aircraft, marking wingtips and front and rear. Three of the aircraft looked modern, sleek; one black and gold Eagle in the rear, two Tomcats, one red, one green, flanking the lead... and a plane of a bygone era leading them in a black and blue F-4E Phantom II. A night patrol from the Sorlian Outlands, a simple sortie to bump up flight hours and maintain safe airspace.

 

It was a dull, dull way to spend the night of Christmas Eve.

 

Manfred Vaeris sat in the pilot seat of his Phantom, simply letting the auto-pilot do the flying for him at the moment. Normally loathe to rely on the computer to lead the way, the mercenary couldn't help shake a certain feeling of... restlessness. Frustration, even. Normally laser-focused on any mission he'd set his mind to, this was little more than a milk run, effectively. A formality he really did not want to be part of tonight; not because it was Christmas. Business sometimes didn't wait on holidays, after all. But more because something else was occupying his mind.

 

He sighed, and looked deep within himself, feeling a certain flow, a river. The pilot remembered how to find it, and every time he went looking, it got easier and easier to find... and easier to call to. Without much thought or focus, he pulled the flow toward the tips of his fingers. Sparkles, flecks of harmless light flitted from between them before falling down free like rain. They were not unlike the distant stars in the sky at first glance, but they quickly faded away into darkness after leaving his fingers.

 

But before he could ask himself what he wanted to, a voice popped up behind him, and he could feel a slight rocking in the cockpit as his passenger leaned forward.

 

“Hey Manny! What's with that light comin' from up there? You're not readin' a book or somethin' in the middle of a mission, are ya?”

 

The pilot turned his head back to look back at the source of the voice, and with the stars in the sky there was just enough light to see the stylized ghostly apparition on his helmet profile. In the dark, his sharp blue eyes looked back at the small girl in the back, who had been fitted with a flight helmet and suit of her very own since living in Shepard's Point.

 

“No, Celia. Don't worry about it,” he said, somewhat curtly. “It's nothing.”

 

“...Well, it is somethin', I think? That kind of light's not normal, right?”

 

“...I said it was nothing,” he bluntly stated, turning back around and looking at his instruments, pretending to brush the matter off. If only it were that simple. His passenger and good friend, the wind sprite Celia, was notorious for being able to read people very well, instinctually picking up on the emotions of people around her. Hiding things from an empath was nearly futile, and by now, Celia had learned to get a good read on him.

 

“...Manny, somethin's wrong, isn't it? It's not like you to be like that. Maybe if you were Mongoose, but... if you wanna talk, you can tell me.”

 

He didn't want to. Not really. And she knew it, but she still put it out there anyway.

 

And he knew he couldn't really bury it forever. It had been eating at him for quite some time now, and it bothered him enough that he distractedly practiced the technique he'd learned in the middle of a mission. Maybe he did need to tell her. She was trustworthy enough... they'd been in each other's company for months, and he knew her better than some of the members of his team.

 

The pilot answered with a sigh at first, but double checked to make sure both his radio transmission and rune were off before he spoke up. Fortunately, both were, though he trusted his radio off switch more than that fickle rune. Still, he needed it in the cockpit in case something happened elsewhere in the world. Never knew when this so-called milk run would turn into a cross-country trek.

 

“...She's gone, 'Lia. And it's been bugging the hell out of me. More than it should.”

 

The sprite furrowed her brow in confusion. At first she entertained the idea that he was referring to the F-4X, which was still at the base in Shepard's Point undergoing maintenance. But he never referred to the plane with a gender, much less was it gone. “Who's gone, Manny? I can't think of anyone in the squadron bein' gone either.”

 

“No one in the squad,” he replied back. “Someone else I met here. Dunno how much you really talked to her, but you remember Fatima, right?” The pilot paused for a second, sparing a glance over to his dormant rune by the instrument panel. “...I tried getting in contact with her a number of times over the past few weeks. All I kept getting was feedback. I checked with a moogle to find out what that meant.”

 

He hesitated again, but the silence was quickly broken by the sprite. “...it meant she went back home, didn't it?” Her expression had fallen as she listened to him, knowing immediately where this was going and what it meant. Manfred had spent plenty of time with Fatima and had mentioned her somewhat often. She could feel it in him, in his tone, and it turned to her as well. “You miss her, huh?”

 

“More than I want to admit,” he quietly said.

 

“...You liked her, didn't you? Really liked her, I mean.”

 

There was something like an irritated grunt from the front seat, the pilot annoyed by the blunt question and stepping into his personal business. But despite his initial displeasure at being called out on it, he didn't simply dismiss the question like he could have.

 

“Yeah, I did. If you were a man with any sort of sense, you'd be kind of stupid not to. Unless you didn't like smart women or something,” his answer was still a little terse, but it was honest, at least. “She was interesting, 'Lia. Mysterious and maybe a little harsh, but good intentioned too. Really knowledgeable about magic too, and even taught me a few things. Never asked for anything in return either, other than a ride to get somewhere fast. Frankly, a woman like her is one in a million.” Specter stared out the side of the cockpit, into the night sky all around them, looking down a little to the vast, dark expanse of desert below. “...Actually was going to see if she wanted to go to a movie tonight. Heard in Ikebukuro that this Christmas thing is a pretty good date holiday. Figured... she'd never seen one before, why not show her something new and surprise her?” He was quiet again for a few seconds, turning his head back forward to look out the front. “Didn't work out that way, though.”

 

Celia leaned back more heavily into her seat, kicking her legs back and forth a little. She was careful not to kick his seat, though. So that was why he didn't really want to be out here... he had other plans that just didn't happen. And between missing an opportunity to go out with a woman he was interested in and the very real possibility he might never see her again, she could kind of understand why he was upset. It was a little unlike the Manfred she normally saw, but he'd never seen him really suffer a loss before. Maybe it was better to try to get him to think on the positives?

 

“You said she taught you 'bout magic, huh? So can you use any? Was that what that light was earlier?”

 

“Turns out I can,” he replied. “Only a little, though. I'm no wizard or anything. And it turned out... I was her elemental opposite. I've told you that she can use magic infused with darkness. ...She was pretty disappointed to find out I had an apparent affinity for Light magic instead. She couldn't teach me much because of it... but... I would've liked to still had her for guidance.” The flickering lights in the front part of the cockpit came back to life as Manfred resumed the display a little more, to prove he could do it.. “I can't do much more than this yet. And it's all I have to...”

 

He was cut off by the radio, an incoming transmission. The voice of Heron cut into their conversation rather abruptly.

 

“Specter, this is Heron. I'm seeing some weird lights coming from your cockpit. You're not having an electrical malfunction, are you?”

 

Manfred made something of a grumbling noise as he reached for the radio transmission switch, cutting off the conversation with Celia for the moment. “Negative, Four. It's nothing to worry about. All systems are green. Don't worry about it.”

 

“Good, wouldn't want your rustbucket there to catch fire or anything.”

 

A third voice, that of another woman, cut in there as well. “Specter, not to interrupt, but I'm picking up several blips on radar, bearing three-four-seven, at a range of thirty miles. Looks like several prop planes and something really big. Really big. Too big to be a cargo plane or passenger liner. Shall we investigate?”

 

In an instant, Manfred's entire demeanor changed, his tone quickly reverting back to business as he put all other thoughts on complete hold. “Affirmative, Firestorm. SkyKnights, put your visors down, I think we've got trouble. Ready your lances, too.” As he spoke, he punched the throttle forward, the aircraft lurching forward with sudden, powerful acceleration. “Get ready for some target practice back there, just in case, 'Lia. Once I give the order, be ready to see what you can pick off with lightning this time. See how well you hit targets that move faster than airships.”

The sprite nodded, determination and focus filling her voice. “You got it, boss! Let's roll!”

 

Manfred let out an affirmative noise, and banked his F-4E toward the heading Firestorm listed off, and his wingmates followed in perfect unison. Sheer discipline in formation made them look like a force to be reckoned with. Thirty miles wasn't far at all, though, and they quickly drew upon the radar signatures.... and sure enough, there were more than a dozen old propeller fighters engaged with something very large. A being of immense size, carried aloft on wings of great strength, and with every flap, it did its best to evade its attackers.

 

“Spec, this is Rev. ...Are you seeing that thing? Is that.... a dragon?”

 

“Affirmative, Three. That is exactly what that is. Not sure what it's doing here, but it sure doesn't look like the thing wants to fight. Can't think of any other reason it hasn't smoked those dusters yet. Bunch of idiots.”

 

“Orders, Specter?” Firestorm asked. She honestly already knew his answer; she didn't have to even say anything.

 

“Back up that dragon, is what. I'll call them and see if they'll abort their attack, and if not, we clip their wings.”

 

Celia quickly piped up from the back seat, having looked at her own instruments. Most of them were still unknown to her, but Manfred at least had taught her the basics of what some of the things meant. “Looks like ya won't be needin' to call 'em, Manny, the radar screen's showing those bad guys are headin' this way now. I think they're lookin' for a fight.”

 

“...then let's give 'em hell. Lances up. Firestorm, you're with me. SkyKnights, break formation! You are all clear to engage! Make sure that dragon gets away safely!”

 

The SkyKnights immediately dispersed, banking and turning away to spread apart and engage targets directly. This would be a piece of cake for them. Not only did they have the technological advantage by far, they were all aces. The enemy wouldn't be flying away from this one without a surrender. The mercenaries charged headlong into the squadron of enemy planes in a hail of cannon fire.

 

“Lia, the one at nine o'clock. Smoke 'em,” Manfred ordered, his voice calm and focused. “I've got the one on our twelve. Fox Two!”

 

No sooner had he given the order did the sprite look out the cockpit's left side and conjure up a powerful bolt of lightning aimed straight at the enemy. It may have been hard to see in the dark, but she confidently shot out the first bolt. It missed, but she instantly followed up with a second one, thanks to the light produced by the first. Her second shot struck true, the bolt tearing into the wing and fuselage. Showers of sparks leapt from the wounds in the aircraft as its oil lines caught alight, and the whole plane quickly engulfed in flames, leaving the pilot barely enough time to bail out safely.

 

“Got 'em! Next!”

 

“Five o'clock high. He's turning after Rev, make him pay!”

 

She quickly swiveled around in her seat to look up and to the right, catching a brief glimpse of the aircraft before Manfred banked to pursue another plane. Still, it was enough time. She couldn't lightning bolt it at that angle, but she was able to summon a massive downdraft to nearly stall out that particular bandit. An explosion quickly followed, a missile shot from Heron clearing Rev's tail thanks to the quick second Celia bought for him.

 

“You're not going anywhere, punk. Fox Two,” Specter muttered under his breath, a Garter missile launching from one of the pods beneath the Phantom's wing. The missile screamed towards its target, effortlessly tracking it and blowing apart its tail assembly and rear fuselage in the explosion. “Scratch number two for me. They're going down like flies.”

 

Firestorm's voice crackled over the radio. “The enemy's at half strength now, Specter.... Standby.” Another explosion erupted from behind the Phantom, followed by the silhouette of what used to be a BF-109 erupting in flames lighting up the night. “Check that, five of twelve remaining.”

 

“You guys work so fast, you make me proud,” Specter joked, turning his aircraft toward the next target, pulling up easily behind it and on its tail. A light beeping in the cockpit was followed by a high pitched whine, indicating Specter had a solid tone. But before he could fire, the enemy plane quickly turned away and dove toward the ground.

 

“Specter, looks like the last five are bugging out. Should we let them go?”

 

“Affirmative, Rev. We accomplished our goal and made our point, the dragon's tail is clear. Watch the radar to make sure it isn't a trick, but I think we're done here. Doubt they'll be back, though. They know who they're dealing with now.”

 

“That went by a little too fast for my tastes,” Rev returned. “Didn't even get to blast music into their comm systems.”

 

“Tough luck, be faster on the draw next time, Three,” Manfred said, smile in his voice. “SkyKnights, let's head home. Our patrol's complete anyway. You did well back there, 'Lia. What was that, one victory and an assist? Not bad for having no bird of your own.”

 

As the Phantom veered back on a course toward Shepard's Point, and with him, his wingmates, Celia breathed out a sigh of relief, glad the combat was over, for however short it may have been. Definitely seemed like the flight was dealing with a bunch of low-ranked bandits, but she didn't mind. If nothing else, it was practice for when the enemy flew something faster. But before she could give a thank you to her comrade, a beeping noise filled the cockpit; it wasn't radio, but rather, a call to both hers and Manfred's runes. She quickly fumbled to pick hers up and answer it, while Manfred merely reached over and gave it a tap, revealing the image of a moogle wearing old-fashioned pilot goggles and a Santa hat. Around him were the thunderous wingbeats of a huge creature, which could only be the dragon that was nearby, best as they could both guess.

 

“H-hello? Kupo? Thank you for stopping those bad guys! They've been chasing us for quite awhile... we're out in the Havens with a very important mission, but we didn't want to hurt them... we were told not to!”

 

“Who toldja that?” Celia quickly asked.

 

“Lady Tiamat did, miss! We're on a tight schedule though, and those guys put us behind. I tried to get them to stop, but they wanted to bring us down... I don't know why they wanted to do that, we weren't hurting anyone, kupo!”

 

“Sometimes that doesn't matter to 'em. Either way, we scared 'em off, so they should leave you alone now. What are you doing out here, anyway?”

 

“Ummmm, I can't tell you, kupo! But trust me when I say it's for the good of the Havens! You'll find out eventually what we're up to! I promise! And you might even like it!”

 

“That's... a bit cryptic, don't you think?” Manfred asked.

 

“It's supposed to be, kupo! I can't go ruining any surprises! Just trust me when I say it'll be a good one. For both of you!”

 

“Aw, you don't have to do anythin' for us! This is all in a day's work for the SkyKnights, right, Manny?”

 

The pilot nodded his head and gave a slight smile. “She's right. This one's on the house. Call it the spirit of the season, or whatever you prefer. Just be safe with... whatever it is you're doing.”

 

“Kupo! Modest, too, huh? Well... we will! Take care, then! I'm sure my buddy here too thanks you as well! We'll see you again sometime! Merry Christmas! Hopefully you'll get whatever you wanted under the tree this year!”

 

With that, the transmission on the rune cut out entirely, and the cockpit went dark once more. Celia slipped hers into a pocket of her flight suit for quick access this time, and looked forward, trying to see around to look at Specter, who remained quiet after the transmission ended.

 

“Don't know what any o' that was about, but it feels good to do something nice, doesn't it?”

 

Manfred hummed a noise in agreement, seemingly lost in thought again, just as quickly as he had snapped out of it. He already knew what he wanted for Christmas that year, and it was impossible to get. He wished he had something other than a few parlor tricks to remember Fatima by, oddly sentimental as it was. Something a little more physical, or something he could use as a tribute would've been nice.

 

But... other than that, he already had all that he could really ask for. His home base, his squadron, his old plane and his old friends, and even a new one in the back seat. One that was almost like family now, a little sister he never had, and it would be strange to imagine being in the Havens without her. Truth be told, that was good enough for him tonight. He could still go home to the people he cared about, to spend time with them, and live on for another day.

 

“...Yeah, it did feel good. I don't know much about this Christmas thing on a whole, other than the whole gift giving thing and the dating thing. But whatever. It feels like we did some real good for someone out there today. That's a big reason why we do what we do.”

 

“Then tonight went well in the end, eh? May not have been what you wanted... but it beat sitting on our butts at home doin' nothin' at all for the night!”

 

“Guess it did,” he chuckled. “But it's getting late now. Let's go home, 'Lia.”

 

Home. Home for both of them. One who always called it home, and one who found a home there. Home nonetheless, with the family they both chose.