It was a hot summer day, the sun shining down from a perfectly cloudless sky, warming the slopes of the mountain below. A brisk wind kept the heat from being oppressive, and the dry air meant it wasn’t at all muggy. It was the kind of day that was perfect for basking, and Sskane was taking full advantage of it. He lay sprawled on the broad ledge in front of his lair, belly pressed to the sun-warmed rock, wings half-spread to catch more sunlight.

The golden light glimmered off the pure ruby scales that marked him as a mountain dragon, the nobility of dragon society, such as it was. Reds were the largest mountain breed, and Sskane was no exception. From nose to tail-tip he was nearly twenty-five meters long.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Sskane lifted his head and couldn’t help but squint his emerald eyes in a draconic smile as he saw the dragon who’d emerged from the lair to stand next to his basking spot. Dekor was a royal dragon, the one sort of dragon who might grow larger than a red, but he was copper, not gold, and so actually a good five meters shorter than Sskane, though with a stockier build. His scales gleamed like a new coin, and his eyes were verdigris green.

“It’s a perfect day for basking with a handsome companion,” said Sskane. “Come join me?”

Dekor stepped up to give Sskane a nuzzle, running his snout along Sskane’s cheek. “Sounds nice. I’ll just—” He paused, frowning. “What’s that?”

Sskane followed the direction of his mate’s gaze, and saw a plume of smoke ascending into the formerly clear sky. He drew in a sharp breath, surging to his feet. On a day like this, dry and hot and with the wind blowing strongly, a fire could be a disaster.

In wordless agreement, the two dragons launched into the air, one after the other, and soared towards the gray-white plume. As they drew nearer the scale of it soon became evident.

Their lair lay above a narrow valley that connected the Ocean of Grass in the east to the elvish lands to the west. A path ran along it, occasionally traveled by humans or elves moving from one land to the other. The slopes were covered in a dense pine forest, and now it was ablaze, from one side of the valley to the other. It looked as though the fire had started near the eastern end, and Sskane snorted to himself to see a cluster of small mounted forms just where the valley met the plain. Humans. Of course. They were lucky that the wind was blowing the fire away from them.

That wind was strong enough that the fire was already moving rapidly along the valley. It would take some hours yet, but it would reach the other end soon enough.

“It’s headed for Illiera,” called Dekor. “We have to warn them!”

“Swift, then,” Sskane called back, and wheeled to the west.

---

From the air, the elvish town of Illiera was difficult to spot. The elves built in and around the trees such that they were as dense there as anywhere else. This would make the fire especially dangerous, for it wouldn’t slow even one iota, as it might on reaching a human city with its stone buildings and paucity of trees.

There was a clearing, though, that served as a kind of central square; a space just large enough for one dragon to land in. Dekor jerked his head down towards it and Sskane nodded agreement, circling above as the smaller dragon dove down to land.

Elves came swiftly out to meet him, for they were accustomed to occasional visits from their draconic neighbors. Sskane and Dekor kept Serali’s peace, but over the past few years peace had turned into something almost like friendship.

Mere minutes later Dekor was aloft again, wings beating hard as he climbed up to where Sskane waited. “They’re evacuating,” he called out. Then he added, “They can’t take the trees or the houses, or most of their things, though. We have to do something.”

Sskane frowned. “They are only possessions.”

“Yes, and how would you feel if you lost everything a dragonsmith ever made you?”

“Badly,” said Sskane in return, understanding Dekor’s point.

“The forest goes for miles, too. They’ll be fleeing for days, with the fire on their heels if the wind keeps up. But if we can stop it in the canyon…”

“Yes,” said Sskane, finding agreement. “The narrow spot, where the hogsback comes down. There. We could make a fire-break.”

“It will have to be a large one. But yes. Let’s go!” Dekor wheeled and was off before Sskane could even finish his turn. Sskane followed after his gleaming copper mate, and couldn’t keep a lovesick expression from his face. This was why he’d been drawn to Dekor. The copper dragon was kind to his very claws. In a society where many dragons, even those who’d embraced Serali’s peace, still clung to the old, aggressive ways, a dragon who was kind had seemed a breath of fresh air to the lonely red.

It didn’t take long to reach the spot where the valley narrowed, a long arm of sheer dark rock reaching out from the mountain’s slope, making the valley curve around it. It had no trees, as it was far too steep, and so the sparse trees on the opposite slop and the thick ones on the narrow strip of valley floor meant that there were fewer trees here than anywhere else along the valley.

They pair glided down, Dekor leading the way, to land on the rock cliff that was the final outcropping of the spur in question.

“We have to uproot the trees,” said Dekor.

Sskane nodded. “Yes. And fling them away from the fire, I think. There are many of them, and this is a crown fire. It will jump far with this much wind.”

“Then we simply must clear a broad enough strip.” Dekor looked at the plume of smoke. From where they were the flames were not quite visible. “We will have a few hours.”

“It’s a great deal of work. But worth trying.” Sskane nodded. He wasn’t sure they could do it, but he was game.

“I’ll start at this end, then. You at the other.”

“Okay.” Sskane nodded once more, and dove off the cliff to wing his way to the opposite slope. The thick pines climbed it, but they soon halted, where the combination of increasing steepness and cold meant they couldn’t thrive. It was high summer, but the last traces of snow lingered in the crevices of the northward slopes.

Sskane landed on a scree slope, where the trees ended. The scraggly pines here were hardly worth noticing, but they would burn, so Sskane began his work. He grabbed a stunted tree and yanked it up, then flung it westward. A second followed, then a third. He moved forward, down the slope, rooting up every tree he could reach. Soon they weren’t stunted things but full-grown pines. Still, he was 25 meters of dragon, and though some trees might be taller still, none could resist him.

He beat and battered and tore at them, flinging the smaller ones recklessly away, bracing himself on his hind legs to topple the larger ones over, tearing up the brush with his claws to deny the fire even that. He made a plowed strip as wide as he could reach across the valley, digging and pulling and snarling at the recalcitrant wood until at last he met Dekor in the middle. The pair exchanged nods and turned, each tearing further into the forest, widening the breach.

Time passed. Sskane’s muscles strained, worked to the limit. Some of the tallest trees were nearly twice his height, and he had to throw everything he had into pushing them over and then rolling them away from the path he was clearing. Each one he put his claws against was a trial, each one felled then a victory. He slowed, slowed further. His first pass along the valley floor had taken less than an hour, the second took easily twice as long. And then, as he stood up on the high slope again, he glimpsed the oncoming inferno. Time was running out.

The wind was hot, now, as he turned to make a third pass, and there began to be embers in it. Most did nothing, but a few found dry tinder and sparked into flame. Sskane stamped them out, snarling in frustration, whenever he found them. If one of those tiny flames burst to larger life, all his work would be for naught.

He tore down more trees, panting, growling, his tail lashing in agitation. He met Dekor again, and they’d cleared three wing-lengths now. The main fire was almost to the borders of their firebreak, hot wind, sparks, and ash all around them.

Sskane coughed, lungs aflame from exertion and smoke. “I can’t do another.”

“No.” Dekor looked as bad as Sskane felt. The smaller dragon had cleared just as many trees as Sskane had, after all. “We’ll mind the border here. The main fire must halt at the break, so if we can snuff out the sparks…”

“Yes. I’ll go high, then, you stay down here.”

Sskane took wearily to the air, while Dekor, with a nod, began patrolling the ground right at the border of the firebreak they’d made.

From the air Sskane watched for the bright bloom of windborn flame, and when he saw it he signaled Dekor, who trampled burning brush and tore down the flame-touched branches of trees. When Dekor couldn’t reach one that blossomed further away, Sskane dove down himself, then labored into the air, now heavy and dark with smoke. It became a nightmare of fire and ash, his scales stained black, his throat raw from smoke, though the heat couldn’t touch him directly.

Finally, though, the raging fire began to die down, the trees on the far side of their firebreak reduced to char, leaving only bare stumps standing. The valley was ravaged, but only partially, and between Sskane’s air patrol and Dekor on the ground, they had caught every wind-blown branch, every newly-kindled potential fire. Smoke rose in thin ribbons from the forest, but Sskane circled and at last he saw no fire, none anywhere. Only embers that glowed in the whipping wind.

He spiraled down to land, sprawling over on his side in the raw dirt left where he and Dekor had torn up the trees. “It’s out,” he gasped.

“It is!” said his lover, flopping over beside him. “First Father’s shell I can hardly believe it.”

Sskane snorted. “I can. My muscles ache enough to prove it. I won’t be able to move tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Dekor lay still save for his heaving sides, tongue hanging out as he panted. Finally he added. “Though we should stay until the embers are dead, or until the wind stops. It could start again.”

“Oh sweet Creator’s love.” Sskane pried himself slowly upright. “If you insist.”

“It would be a crime to waste all this effort.”

So they waited, but though embers blew about, none managed to spark more than the smallest of blazes, easily snuffed in a moment. The pair were diligent all the same, and nightfall came with them still hunting sparks, stumbling with exhaustion, but making certain none could kindle the fire once more.

At last, as the sun vanished entirely, the wind died, and Sskane once again collapsed onto his side. He ached in every bone and sinew, every muscle and fiber of his being. He was sure even his scales ached, stained and scorched where he’d thrown himself against the flames to snuff them out.

Dekor groaned, his formerly gleaming copper now streaked liberally with soot. “I am dead. Bury me here. I will never move again.”

“The wind is gone, though,” said Sskane, rolling onto his back and staring up at where the sunset purple was fading to a velvet black night, spangled with stars. “We did it.”

“We did.” Dekor laughed in delight. “We did. We saved the whole damn elvish town. We should tell them about it.”

“There’s no need,” said another voice, high-pitched and thick with a non-dragonish accent. “We know. I have already sent word that my people can return to their homes.”

Sskane managed, somehow, to pry his head up from the dirt and fix his eyes on the speaker. It was an elf, clad in elaborate robes that suggested she was a wizard.

“We all thank you deeply. I came to see if my magic could slow the blaze at least enough for everyone to flee. I thought it might not, I am a very minor mage. That there was no need is a blessing, and may perhaps be the saving of lives. So thank you.”

Sskane gave a shrug, not sure how to respond.

“There was a time when dragons wouldn’t have done such a thing,” said the elf.

“Some might have,” said Sskane, looking over at Dekor with a tired smile.

Dekor smiled back. “And some still wouldn’t. But times have changed, yes. The new queen is re-making us, I think for the better. The song was good, the last dragon’s moot.” Dekor looked at the elf. “We’re all the Creator’s children. To save any life is as if I saved a dragon’s life. We’re all part of this world, our island in the great beyond.”

The elf nodded. “I don’t follow your creator, but I will praise my own gods for you. Thank you again” She bowed deeply, then walked back into the forest, somehow barely disturbing the undergrowth, despite her voluminous robes.

Once she was gone, Dekor let his head drop, giving an exhausted sigh. “We should fly back up to the lair, but…”

“Yes.” Sskane rolled over and draped his own head over Dekor with a yawn. “It’s safe enough down here for one night.” He made a tiny, tired gesture towards the still-smoking forest. “Nothing will come through there, and I’ve a feeling the forest on the elven side will be very safe too, tonight.”

Dekor chuckled, then yawned himself. “Indeed.”

“You are magnificent, you know,” said Sskane.

Dekor, eyes already half closed, tilted his head to blink at where Sskane was lying across his chest. “Hmm?”

“All this. I would have merely warned Illiera and then flown back to the lair. But you convinced me to do more. To do better. You’re my own moot-singing, my own personal Serali, changing me.”

Dekor made an embarrassed little sound. “I don’t know. You’re already pretty good.”

“Maybe, but all the same, I’m better because of you. That’s just one of a thousand reasons why I love you.”

“I love you too, for at least a thousand reasons. Maybe two thousand.” Dekor yawned again. “I’ll tell them all to you in the morning.”

“In the morning.” Sskane found himself yawning too, and only moments later he dropped into an exhausted, but deeply contented sleep.