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The fat lion looked over the balcony of his large, ornate palace, admiring the ample view of the kingdom of Felin, over which he ruled as king. To the left he could see a portion of the forest that weaved across the entirety of the Great Plain and to the right he could see his capitol city in the midday light, proud and peaceful. It was a magnificent view and he thought as much as he pondered on what he would consume for his meal that afternoon. I think I'll have a nice, juicy steak... he thought as he idly tapped his claws against the patterned railing of the balcony.

"Father! Father!"

The voice was female and distressed. It sounded like his oldest (and favorite) daughter. He turned and found that his guess was correct; it was, indeed, his daughter. Unfortunately, she would not be his heir, as tradition dictated that a male ascend to the throne, and he wept for the future of his nation when his idiot son came of age.

"Father!" the lioness shouted again, as she finally spotted her king on the balcony. She rushed over and the lion saw that she was near tears.

"Father, you must come quickly! We just received... It's horrible... You have to do something!" Her words came quick and the lion wondered what could bring his usually-strong-willed offspring to such hysterics.

She practically dragged the overweight feline through the halls of the palace, belly jiggling and un-worked legs burning. She brought him to one of the many rooms in the large palace; nothing special, just a bed, a couple chairs and a bedside table. What was special, however, was the cougar lying on the bed, moaning in pain as he clutched his right arm with his left.

No. He clutched the stub where his right arm should be. The fur around the stub was dead, falling off as his other hand rubbed on it, and the skin near the end of the stub was an unsightly color of ash, somewhere between gray and black, almost as if he had a recent bout of frostbite...

The lion turned away for a second, suddenly feeling lightheaded and nauseous.

"I told you not to touch it!" his daughter scolded the soldier, for that's what his attire suggested.

"Sire! I came... as quickly as I could..." the soldier grunted, obviously trying to force his words out through the pain of his wound.

"What is it, soldier?" The king asked, after gathering his wits. His muzzled showed concern and his eyes were curious.

He shouted out in pain as the lioness began to do what she could to his wound; it wasn't much, just a salve for the pain. The cougar relaxed as the sharp pain in his stub dulled and his shoulder area went numb.

"They were on us before we even knew of their arrival. We did everything we could. Tried to raise the alarm. Terrible flying beasts with breath of fire! I was the only one that survived... Leading them was... a white... cold... so... cold..." the soldier muttered as he passed out.

"Wait! Tell me more!" the lion shouted, moving to shake the cougar in hopes of rousing him, but it was in vain.

"Father, he's from one of the new outposts. I recognize the special uniform you made them wear."

The lion king felt the icy cold hands of dread latch onto his being. He swallowed audibly and hoped to every god he could think of and more that his suspicion was wrong. "How long ago was the meeting I went to with the other leaders?" He asked with a clear shaking of his voice.

"Hm..." she said. "A fortnight today, Father. Though I don't see how that's important..."

The lion felt time stop as the information sunk in.

His time had run out.

00000000000

Rhiza let out an earth-shattering roar as they approached the capitol of Felin. Several roars from the other drakons rang through the air, albeit not as mind-numbingly terrifying as their leader's.

Kalin and a few others detached from the humongous formation of drakon riders clouding the sky. They would take the capitol while the rest moved on to seize the rest of the country, breaking into smaller groups as the reached a new city, as Kalin's group had done.

The allotted fortnight had passed and, as expected, Felin opted to refuse Drakor's mercy and protection. Now, the dragons were storming through the country, just as Kalin promised at the meeting of the furry leaders. They would take the city and then hold it until the reptiles arrived with carts to ship Felin's "resources" back to Drakor. Then they would regroup and move on to the next country, making their way across the Great Plain in a similar fashion.

Kalin signaled to the four or so other riders to move into the city while he headed for the palace. He couldn't help his grin.

Time to put some furries in their place.

000000000000

The lion's blood turned to ice and his heart started beating in his ears. He knew that roar; that deafening, all-consuming sound that foretold the arrival of the ultimate predator. He knew as soon as he heard it the first time, exactly a fortnight ago, that he would never forget the sound of the ivory behemoth's war cry as long as he lived. The only thing that could, and did, frighten him more was the cacophony of roars that echoed the first one.

For what seemed like an eternity, the lion just stood there. He was sure that his daughter, still in the room with the unconscious soldier, was frantically trying to tell him something, but he couldn't figure out what for the life of him. It was only when the realization that the dragons were already here sunk in that the king was brought out of his trance.

"Father!" his daughter desperately shouted, shaking his side violently in what was an attempt to gain his attention. "Father, the city is under attack by monsters of fire, just as the scout said! You have to organize the guards or we'll all be killed!"

The lion felt hopelessness sink in as he cast his gaze to the cougar. What could they do against monsters that could do that and more? Nothing, he thought. He looked forlornly at his daughter; he'd always seen her as the beautiful little cub she was when he first laid eyes on her, no matter that she was now a strong and independent lioness. He could see the hope in her eyes, how she wanted him to step up and save the city from this terrible threat. It pained him to disappoint her, but he had no choice. There was nothing he, or anyone else, could do to stop the dragons.

"There's no point," he said solemnly. "There's only one thing we can do now." There was now a crowd gathered around the room, a mixture of servants and guards all awaiting orders from the king.

"Run!" he shouted. "Run for your lives! Flee while you still hold breath!"

The result was pure bedlam. The servants started running around in a flurry of panic while the soldiers, thinking their king had abandoned them, tried to rally themselves anyway.

The king continued to run, as much as he could being in poor physical condition, and shout until he reached his magnificent throne room, which held an even larger crowd of expectant furs. He pushed through the crowd, encouraging every fur in earshot to escape if they valued their lives.

He only stopped when a thunderous crash echoed through the hall from the high ceiling. Large chunks of debris fell and some monstrous figure landed on the floor with an even more thunderous BOOM. Large, white wings spread, the creature's wingspan so great that they escaped the thick cloud of dust and, with one mighty flap, the dust was simply blown away.

The king felt horror creep into every nook and crevice of his body, mind, and soul. His wide, terrified eyes fixated upon the all-too-recognizable figure of an ashen dragon astride an ivory colossus. His knees buckled and he fell right onto his well-cushioned backside. Still seized by fear and panic, he began to frantically scurry backwards until he bumped into the front of his gilded throne. All around him the various furries were running about and screaming, scared out of their wits by the terrifying sight. The crowd dispersed quickly and not many furs were left, save for the petrified king and a small group of about ten soldiers. The soldiers rallied their courage and charged the beast.

Something akin to a blizzard erupted from the drakon's maw, blasting past teeth that would make a dagger envious, and an icy hiss-like sound filled the large throne room. There were soft crackling sounds of ice forming and when the flurry of frost cleared the soldiers, the floor underneath them, and the wall behind them were covered in a thick layer of ice. They'd all been frozen solid right before the lion's eyes; they were still in their various poses, as they had been when the creature opened its maw to unleash the torrent of ice.

The dragon unstrapped his legs from the saddle and dismounted his mighty steed. He calmly moved toward where the king was cowering in front of his throne, while the drakon bounded off to play with her new ice sculptures.

"We meet again, King of Felin," the dragon said when he was muzzle to muzzle with the cowardly lion. His statement wasn't so much dramatic as it was condescending.

Said lion merely gulped audibly and watched. The dragon's attire hadn't changed since the first time the lion laid eyes upon him; the only difference was the addition of a leather belt that hung lower on one hip that the other, holding two swords at his left hip. The lion warily eyed the swords and couldn't decide if being skewered on one would be so bad. He was sure whatever fate the dragon planned for him would be a thousand times worse.

"Although, I have to say, I much prefer these conditions to the last time we met. If nothing else, you furries are certainly an amusing source of entertainment. Rhiza hasn't had this much fun in ages." They both looked over at said drakon, and a sickening (for the lion, anyway) crunch rang through the hall as she crushed one of the frozen bodies of the soldier under her paw. It crumpled into chunks and pieces, as if the poor fur were made of glass instead of flesh. There was no blood, naturally, since all of the fur's blood was frozen solid.

"Well, onto business, shall we then?" Kalin said with a grin. "As expected, you refused my generous offer and, as promised, here I am to take what should have been given. You have no one but yourself to blame for the fate of your people." His words were harsh and his tone unforgiving. "Everything belonging to this country will be taken and brought back to Drakor: your gold, your food surplus, your weapons, and much more. Your villages will be burned to the ground, your histories forgotten. I will leave exactly five hundred able-bodied citizens of your kind here, all alive and well, along with one of my officers to teach them how to properly raise a society and, eventually, a new nation." Kalin moved to the throne and, on a whim, simply plopped down in it. "So this is what it's like sitting on a throne," he mused. "Comfortable, but not really my style. It's too... open; you present yourself as an easy target." Kalin moved his tail and curled it around the lion's neck, jerking him forward so that he was kneeling before him while he sat on the lion's throne in a picture perfect representation of irony. The dragon lazily observed the lion. "If I remember correctly, a lion's mane is a symbol of pride and manhood, is it not?" His head was cradled in his paw while his elbow rested on the arm of the throne, looking every bit the picture of a domineering overlord. When the lion nodded in response to his question, the dragon grinned, toothy and malicious. "I will enjoy ripping it out."

The lion, still in the grip of the dragon's tail, winced, but he didn't fear that as much as the answer to the question that burned in his mind.

"W-What will happen to the rest?" His voice shook as he asked and his fear was evident.

"Hm..." the dragon said as he mockingly pretended to ponder the question. "I suppose that we will have to sort through the hordes that we capture, weeding out the infants and elderly along with their respective caretakers. As for the rest..." The dragon grinned again, perhaps his most sinister smile yet, and opted not to finish his sentence.

Just when the defeated lion thought he could sink no lower, the sound of his daughter rushing into the throne room reached his ears and his world shattered completely.

Dun, Dun DUUUUNNN!

Sometime later...

Christina stormed into the living room, finding her father standing there staring out the window. He started doing that after they returned from the meeting with the other furry leaders, as if he was looking for signs of the dragons' advancement across the Great Plain.

"Father, I must insist that you reconsider!" Christina asserted, not wanting to beat around the bush.

"Good morning to you as well, Christina," Elron said dryly, not looking away from his window, which gave him a magnificent view of the forests of Unicorpia.

"You're putting the entire country in danger!" she protested, ignoring his comment.

"I've already told you, the Horned Council voted on this matter and we all agreed to do nothing." Elron sounded exasperated with the subject, which he was. During the allotted fortnight, she pestered him about sending a messenger to Drakor to accept his offer and spare their people. When she found out that the Council opted to do nothing, she became wildly belligerent about the subject, even more so when the fortnight passed.

"But Father, think about what the dragons will do when they get here!"

"Dammit, Christina! I've told you a thousand times! We have nothing to offer the dragons; we are not warriors or farmers or blacksmiths! We do nothing related to any aspect of war, and therefore, we are of no value to a country on the brink of war! The dragons will not come here. We are a small and insignificant country to them. They will leave us be."

Christina grew quiet at her father's outburst. He rarely raised his voice, and she'd never heard him curse. She wanted to believe him, she really did, but she couldn't help but think that, when he spoke about the matter at all, he was trying to convince himself more than her.

Elron took in a deep breath and released his anger. "I'm sorry, Christina. I didn't mean to shout. I just... I need some fresh air," he said as he made his way to the front door.

When he opened the door, however, something must have really startled him, because he let out a shout of surprise and stumbled backward into one of the small tables, knocking over one of Christina's mother's vases.

"Going somewhere, Elron?"

Christina's blood turned cold. For over two weeks she hoped beyond hope that she would never have to hear that voice again. That husky, draconic voice belonging to the dragon that successfully threatened almost every country on the continent and walked away like it was an everyday thing.

"H-How did you get here?" her father asked incredulously. He couldn't believe that they actually found them. Unicorpia is completely engulfed in thick forest, making it hard for large groups to navigate. Plus, it's not like the dragons had any idea where the cities were actually located in the forest.

The Commander stepped over the threshold into Christina's home and she once again laid eyes on the only dragon that she'd ever seen. "Well, you almost gave me a run for my gold. It was very clever of you to make your homes out of the trees without cutting them down; our drakons can't move through the forest and it's difficult to find your settlements. As luck would have it though, we came across a very kind traveler who, after some play time with the drakons, was more than happy to give us directions to all of your cities." Kalin grinned, as if he relished in the challenge of finding the unicorns.

Christina and Elron felt their spirits plummet at the dragon's confession. They were so close to getting off scot free; fate, it seemed, was with the dragons.

Kalin's attention moved from her father to Christina and his grin widened. "Well, well, well," he said in a smooth voice. "It is very much a pleasure to see you again, my dear." He was moving toward her now, only a few steps away, and Christina felt her guts wrench inside of her. She didn't like being the subject of his attention.

"Leave her alone!" her father shouted at the dragon. "Christina, run!" he warned.

The commander was upon her now though. She would have no hope of escaping with him so close. Kalin took in her form appreciatively. She was a lovely mare, a true beauty, with bright green eyes and flawless amber colored fur matched with black here and there. Her horn was simply magnificent. It was a deep golden color, similar to her fur, and there was a grove spiraling around it. What really made it pop, however, was the black swirl running opposite of the grove. She wore a modest afternoon gown, not showing much of her fur or any part of her body that would be considered provocative. That's not to say, however, that she didn't have anything to show. Christina was very much a sexy mare. Full breasts that fit her body size perfectly, not to big but not too small, and a nice, round ass that only enhanced her curvy figure; it was truly a shame for her natural allure to be concealed in such a conservative fashion. Kalin's mouth watered and his fangs itch with the need to sink them into her soft, yielding flesh. "Christina, is it? A lovely name for a lovely mare," he said gently, almost with a loving tone, as he moved his clawed hand to gently caress her soft, ebony mane.

Christina couldn't move; her body wouldn't respond to her mind's frantic commands to run away from this... this... she couldn't even think of a proper word to describe him. She certainly didn't like the way he was looking at her; no one had ever looked at her like that and she couldn't put a name to the look in his icy-blue eyes as he took in her form. In Unicorpia, sex isn't a casual thing, and really isn't even an act of pleasure. It is a duty; you have sex to reproduce and that's it. A mateship between two unicorns is based on love, mutual respect, and companionship, not fleeting sensations like physical attraction. This allows stability in the family unit across Unicorpia, which translates to stability of Unicorpian society as a whole. Relationships, along with all aspects of life, function on a higher level of existence, according to the unicorns; they have no desire to degrade themselves and adopt the ways and desires of common furries. Unicorns are superior and the meaning is hollow if not imposed. Christina, like every other unicorn, has been raised with this mindset. Being looked at with such... such hunger, while being ignorant to his less-than-admirable thoughts and intentions, was a new experience that she couldn't comprehend, which only served to frighten her more.

"She has nothing to do with this! I said leave her be!" her father shouted, finally mustering the courage to confront the monster terrorizing his daughter. Elron surged forward, meaning to do whatever it took to get the dragon away from his daughter.

Kalin growled, curling his lip and exposing a few of his sharp fangs to the terrified mare. She closed her eyes and prepared for him to hurt her in some way. There was a loud crack! like a whip and then the sound of her father crying out in pain and collapsing on the floor. Christina opened her eyes and looked around the dragon in front of her to find her father on his knees clutching his muzzle in his hands. When he removed them, there was a large gash across his muzzle, blood running down the sides. She guessed the dragon had used his tail to literally whip her father into submission, for the moment at least.

"You're right about one thing, Elron," Kalin said, turning his gaze back to her. "Poor Christina isn't to blame for her predicament. That rests with you and the rest of your... er, Horny Council was it?" Christina wanted to correct him, not liking that he was making light of their leadership and how he was disrespecting her father, but she thought it would be safer to keep her maw shut. "Which reminds me: the other party guests haven't arrived yet." The dragon moved to the door and exited.

Christina was finally able to release the breath she didn't know she had been holding. Her heart was beating erratically and she still felt afraid to move, even without the dragon's presence.

"What are you idiots waiting around for? Bring them in!" both of the unicorns heard through the wall. Kalin moved back into the house. He was grinning widely, obviously pleased with himself. He moved to the side and two more dragons walked in, one green and the other purple. What the two unicorns saw next was especially disturbing. Christina immediately recognized the other four unicorns of the Horned Council; they were covered with bruises and cuts like the one on her father's muzzle. Their robes were tattered, but the worst part was the shackles around their wrists and legs which clinked and clanked together as they shuffled forward in a walk of shame. Kalin dismissed the other two dragons, telling them that they could continue to apprehend the rest of the unicorns in town.

"Well, now that we're all here the fun can begin," the gray and blue dragon said, relishing in his victory.

"Only a monster like you would be so low as to call-"

Crack!

The female Council member that tried to speak was cut off as pain surged from the fresh cut of Kalin's whip-like tail across the side of her muzzle, near her eye.

"I thought you would have learned your lesson by now, bitch," the dragon snarled.

The unicorn mare wisely lowered her head.

Christina eyed the two swords hanging at his left hip, hoping that he wasn't going to simply slaughter them all one by one; he did say that it wouldn't be pretty at the meeting but surely... Then again, she was trying to judge him based on furry standards. This was a dragon. She didn't know much about them, hardly anything really. It's not like unicorns were average Joes so she was accustomed to strange culture. However, even with the uncommon lifestyle of her species and the limited interaction with the Drakorian Commander, she could tell that dragons were cut from a very different cast.

"You really should listen to your daughter more, Elron," the dragon derided.

"We are a peaceful nation! We have no trades that could possibly support your war. What could we possibly have that you could want?" Her father pleaded, still trying to believe that he could reason with the war-mongering dragon. He was still on his knees and it looked like he tore a piece from his robe to stop the bleeding from the cut across his muzzle.

"Oh Elron, you continue to disappoint. And here I was thinking that you were the smart one. Let's put on our thinking caps, shall we? What is the most basic thing required to fight a war?" Kalin was grinning, offering all of the frightened unicorns in the room an unhindered view of his razor-sharp fangs, and savored the unicorn's confusion for all it was worth.

Christina's father thought for a moment before his eyes widened and he started shaking his head violently. "No... You can't! We're not... We can't..."

"Oh relax, Elron. It's not like you'll be on the front lines."

Christina's mind raced. Most basic requirement of war... the front lines... Christina wasn't stupid. Surely this crazy dragon didn't mean to put a bunch of pacifistic unicorns in a war?

"But... but we're not warriors! We'll be slaughtered!" Christina declared.

Kalin gave out a hearty laugh at her statement, but it felt more like a slap to the face to Christina.

By this time, Christina managed to carefully move away from Kalin, subtly but surely. Her efforts turned fruitless as he moved closer to her... and closer... He was directly in her personal space now, closer than last time, and she felt that terrible gut-wrenching feeling again. This time that strange look in his eyes was even more prominent and Christina felt primal, instinctual fear as the predator closed in on his prey.

The dragon grabbed onto her with a strong grip and the mare let out a yelp as she felt his large, scaled hands, complete with claws, latch onto the round curve of her ass. He pulled her into his chest so that they were touching as much as possible. She tried to push him away with her hands, but all that did was allow her to get a good feel of the hard muscles and soft, leathery scales adorning his chest. His body was warm and she felt the heat seeping through the material of her gown. Even with her being so close, he didn't let go of her soft, supple behind.

Kalin almost groaned aloud at the feel of the amber-colored mare's ass in his hand: soft, round, and perky. When he pulled her into his chest he felt her ample breasts press against him. Unfortunately, her entire body was concealed by her afternoon gown, which didn't give the dragon a fair chance to admire her body. He leaned his muzzle in until he was just short of touching the black fur of her ear and fisted his hand in her ebony mane, preventing her from moving her head. The feel of his warm breath across Christina's ear made it flicker. Kalin growled low in his throat and her entire body tensed. The young unicorn felt more like a small, helpless bunny. Her ears went as flat as possible, submissive, and Christina began to shake subtly in fear of the dragon's intentions.

"Don't worry, beautiful," he cooed in her ear in a low voice. "I've got a much better job for you."

By the way he said it, Christina was sure that she was missing something, but she couldn't figure out what that was for the life of her. The fact that the dragon still hadn't released her from his hold didn't help her thought process.

"Unhand my daughter!" Elron shouted, seething with rage. He stood up and pointed his horn at the dragon harassing his child and charged. There was nothing

Elron hated more than violence and bloodshed, but to save his daughter from the clutches of the Drakorian Commander, he would gladly sacrifice his morals. His horn started to emit a faint glow of energy, meaning he had activated every unicorn's ultimate magic.

Seeing the unicorn's reaction, Kalin tossed the mare to the side, out of harm's way, and as the unicorn came near him, horn first, he side-stepped. In that split second he managed to deliver a quick blow to the unicorn's head, changing his direction so that his horn impaled the wall. Elron removed his horn easily, the magic of it simply disintegrating all it touched. He charged again with a similar result, only this time his horn landed in the floor. After he released himself once more, Elron didn't have the energy to keep the magic up, so the faint glow of his horn disappeared and the stallion collapsed, though he remained conscious.

Kalin breathed a sigh of relief. That magic was dangerous. He had studied unicorns intently, as he had all the species during his trek across the continent; after all, knowing is half the battle. He knew about the magic of their horns. The horn wasn't inherently magical; it was more like a tool of some sort. The horn was powered by the unicorn's life force and, when directed by the unicorn, soaks up the life force given to it and emits it as deadly magic. For a time, the user will be nearly invincible, with a combination of the offensive power of the horn and a defensive armament as a result of the horn's magic. Fortunately, or unfortunately, this power comes with a cost; since it is powered by a unicorn's life force, there is only so much magic that the unicorn can use and it has a direct effect on the unicorn. Using that magic for too long can, and will, kill the user; if the user doesn't use too much magic then the life force that he or she used will replenish over time. Elron didn't use enough magic to kill himself, but he wouldn't be anywhere near full strength for a while.

Christina didn't know what to do. Should she escape, leaving her father and the other Council members, or should she fight back and hope for better luck than her father? Her mind raced, depicting different outcomes of her choice, and she started to pant, realizing that it was getting hard to breathe.

The decision was moot however, as Kalin produced two sets of shackles. He shackled her first and he wasn't gentle about it either. He then moved on to restrain her father, but that didn't do much since her father could barely move anyway. She watched fearfully as Kalin moved behind her. Pain sprouted from the back of her neck for a split second and then everything went black as she faded into unconsciousness.