Starved for Air
The typewriter was gone.
He noticed that as he paced past the wooden stall and the old lady who owned it – she gave him a little wave, recognising him from their encounter days earlier, which he returned with a short smile. It was a negligible detail, Roland knew, and one he should've expected, but he'd actually been hoping to somehow purloin the typewriter for himself. Of course, he didn't want to cause the decrepit dragon hunched over the counter any harm, but the things he could've done with it... He could've recovered all of his work in a jiffy, perhaps started something brand new.
Oh well. Wasn't much use thinking about it now. That thing was gone and the chance had slipped by. It wasn't like it was important in the grand scheme of things anyway. Saving Drevon was top priority, not his aspirations of becoming a dedicated author.
"Fuckin' hell, Roland!" Myrtle called to him through the colourful sea of loosely-armoured dragons. Fortunately, those people didn't give him any looks because of the time, but he really didn't give a damn anymore. There was no point in worrying about what they thought. He'd been approached by a few civilians in the past, but he and his group were always able to talk their way out of that kind of thing. "Hurry up! You're so slow!"
He picked up the pace a little before automatically slowing down again. Apparently, Myrtle and Tristana were summoning him to Alevor's forge for a second time. He was unsure why, but he suspected it had to do with whatever gift they'd been working on for him. He still didn't think he deserved it.
It was making them happy, though. He didn't care much for the present as long as they were happy doing it for him. He was glad to see them both in high spirits, especially after last night's heated kerfuffle. Myrtle looked a lot better. She smiled and laughed with Tris. Even if she was exhausted from her lack of rest again, she was trying to make the absolute best of what she had now.
He couldn't explain how glad he was to see that. Hopefully her mood would keep up.
"Ancestors..." Tris ran towards him quicker than a fire dragon's comet dash. She pulled at his wing, grabbing his attention. "Get your head out of the clouds, Roland!"
Roland looked to the canvas above, the clear, vibrant orange. Not a fluffy spec of white or grey in the sky. "I mean, I don't really see any clouds today..."
"Oh my – I really feel like punching you," Tris exclaimed, growing frustrated with his feigned drought of enthusiasm. He found her reaction hilarious. Never was the yellow dragoness this impatient with him. "Hurry up!"
"Fine, fine..." Roland got a move on, jogging after Myrtle. He had to admit he was curious to see whatever they'd done for him. Getting there more briskly than he was walking appealed to him.
Snow and leftover hail blanketed the streets of Shimmervale like sopping carpet over the stone. It squelched like slush as they padded through it. Roland raised his paw in slight discomfort, wanting to bring up flight as an option instead of running, but Myrtle's crystallisation stopped him once again. There was nothing to be done about that for the moment. Thankfully, the snow wasn't so thick as they went further, but it was still disgusting, as though he were trudging through excrement. He had experienced that before, living in the sewers and all...
It was only the sun that made it bad, the low orb of golden light spearing through the cold-resistant leaves of the tree he walked beneath. It warmed his scales on this chilly sunset afternoon, but also the ground, a double-edged blade. The snow started to melt into a giant ice-peppered puddle as they reached the forge.
They were coming so late because Roland hadn't been able to visit Wren this morning. He'd flown over to his house, but there had been a note left on the doorstep for him, telling him to come back at sunset. He'd been about to soar over there again for more training. As he was about to leave, though, Tris and Myrtle had run back together to inform him of their surprise and now he was on his way to Alevor's smithy.
Smoke bellowed out of the chimney, and as he stood upon the platform outside the building, there came a hiss, red-hot metal cooling in water. Tris stopped by the door and delivered a couple hard knocks. Metal clattered everywhere inside.
"Hey, Ale!" Tris yelled, shaking in her excitement. "We're here with Roland!"
"Aye!" Steel scraped along stone as the llama lifted his mess back up again. Heavy boots thudded against the ground. It swung open with a whine, the atlawa standing tall before them, arms folded. "Sorry about the noise, girls. And Roland. I forget you even exist sometimes, lad."
"I'm a pretty forgettable person," Roland replied with a laugh, and Alevor chuckled with him. Myrtle looked at him disapprovingly. "These two have been excited to show me something."
Alevor stepped to the side and ushered them all through. "It's waiting in here. I'm eager to see your reaction myself. Aye, they've done an incredible job."
Alevor followed them as they headed inside. It was about what Roland would've expected inside, only sparsely furnished: a spare anvil off to the side, a bench with tools sprawled across it on the other, and a furnace crackling with ore in front of him. There was a door next to the spare anvil. Peeping in, Roland could see a bed, sheets unmade. As they turned the corner around the L-shaped room, they entered some kind of kitchen, cupboards splayed across the walls, a counter stretched around the room in that same kind of L-shape. There looked to be a spot where a stove was supposed to be, but it wasn't in the building. He thought he saw the glint of something atop the counter, though Alevor's muscular build blocked further perception.
The atlawa suddenly spun around, hands on his waist. "You ready to see this, Roland?"
"Uh... Yeah?" He nodded. "What's that on the counter?"
"Your gift." The blacksmith stood out of the way so Roland could get a better eyeful. It took him a few moments to realise what it was, but when he did, his jaw fell. He stumbled forward, grabbing onto the side of the counter, and rose to his hind paws to get a greater look.
A helmet made of steel as grey as his chest, rimmed with a glistening gold, designed specifically for him. It was polished beyond reason; he could see his own face reflected in its surface. Roland looked back at Tris and Myrtle, who both smiled in eager anticipation.
"Try it on," the yellow dragoness said.
He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. He grabbed the helmet from the counter, rubbed his paw along the smooth, lustrous metal, and spun it around in his feet. It was slightly padded on the inside for maximum comfort, on the back were two little notches he didn't know the use of, and there were straps buried in each side that would fit beneath his chin. He took a seat on his hind paws, lifted it high into the air, then fitted it through his horns and onto his head.
It fit perfectly. The punctured helmet was designed with his horns in mind, and so it reached right around to the back of his head instead of stopping at the horns like most draconic helmets. He grabbed the angular visor and pulled it over his eyes so it rested on his snout, and stared through the vertical slits sliced into it.
"Not gonna lie, Roland..." Myrtle folded her paws as she rested against the wall. "You look pretty fuckin' awesome in that helmet. I could mistake you for a knight."
Tris was clearly gleeful over his reaction. "I thought about the way you were looking at that armour back in the markets. I wanted to make something for you. I'd never done a helmet before and I really wanted to try it. This was the result."
Roland nodded, still in shock, turning towards the llama. "C-can I have a mirror?"
Alevor retrieved something from one of the cupboards, a hand mirror. It was old, cracked through the centre, but it'd do.
The gold and dark steel complimented each other, matching his own colours nigh perfectly. He lifted the visor and did the flexible leather straps up on each side. Just like everything on this helmet, they fit more snugly than Fluffy's tight, tender grip.
It was perfect. It was perfect, and yet he couldn't understand why Myrtle and Tris had gone to such lengths for him.
"You like it obviously." Tris laughed slightly.
"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one," Roland replied. "But why'd you do this for me? I don't deserve this much, do I?"
"We just wanted to do somethin' nice, Roly." Myrtle gave a shrug.
"You didn't have to do this!" He creased his brow and took the helmet off. "I can't... accept something like this without giving something back. I don't deserve this..."
Tris cocked her head. "No, no. You do deserve it. You've already given us something. Don't you understand?"
He really didn't think he could just take something like this. He had to do something equally as amazing. There was no questioning that. "And what's that?"
Myrtle sighed. "Friendship, ya dickhead."
"...Really?" He didn't believe that was enough. Sure, he was an okay person to them all, but they'd done the exact same thing with him. Why would they think–
"Get that damn look off your face," Myrtle interrupted his train of thought. "I know exactly what you're thinkin'. You're bein' stupid. We just wanted to do somethin' cool for you, Roly. You don't need to pay us back or anything.
Roland looked down at the helmet clutched in his paws. "I feel bad not being able to give something in return."
"Chin up, lad." Alevor clapped him on the back. Roland grunted; the llama had force equivalent to Myrtle's playful fists. "I know how you feel, but you don't need to do anything. This is just a gesture of kindness. Nothing more, nothing less. You don't need to pay a soul."
"Please accept it, Roland," Tris agreed. She had this look of worry on her face, fearful he wouldn't take this valuable thing because he couldn't give anything back in return. He looked down at it again, muzzle twitching. "After all, we did make it for you. It would be a waste of our time if you didn't take it."
"Well..." Roland lifted it to his head again, nodding. He sat it atop his skull once more. He knotted the straps together again and fitted them beneath his chin. "I suppose you're right. I'd be a bad friend if I didn't. I just wish I could give you something..."
"You do enough," Myrtle said. "Seriously, Roland. Don't worry about it. We loved every second of makin' it together. Shut up."
He still wouldn't believe that. Friendship wasn't a currency he'd buy items like these with. Not something so personal, or so damned expensive.
But Myrtle was right anyway. He needed to shut his trap. He was truly grateful for this, but he wasn't acting like it. He could think of something to do in return later on. A gift...
Maybe Tristana's hatchday was coming up soon? He couldn't do that for Myrtle; hers had been months ago, on the fifth day of the year.
Thinking of hatchdays made him realise his was coming soon, though. A couple weeks and days from now and he'd be sixteen. Sixteen days to sixteen years. Maybe he could think of the helmet as an early hatchday present.
"Alright, alright..." He exhaled in annoyance. He was going to cause an argument if he kept this moronic behaviour up. "Thanks so much, girls. I can't even begin to explain how happy I am with it. It's probably the best helmet I've ever seen. How much did this cost, though? It had to have a hefty price tag, considering the gold."
"Aye, I knew you'd ask about the price." Alevor chuckled. "Not cheap, Roland. That's fourteen karat gold in that helmet you're wearing. If we're talking Shimmervale prices, it'd be more than fifteen thousand copper pieces for just the gold. And then there's obviously the commission fee."
Roland's heart skipped a beat at the price. He was already expecting a high figure, but it came as a shock to him anyway. "Ancestors... You were the one that paid for all this, right?"
"Eh." Alevor shrugged. "I had some old rings and a necklace laying about that the commissioner never collected because they passed away, I think. Tristana saw the pieces, got down on her knees, and begged me to let her use them. I couldn't take her staring at me with those damned eyes. I don't mind, really. I have plenty of money already. Everyone wants a good blacksmith in these parts. That's one reason Darak gave me my badge..."
"Y'know, I'm kinda surprised people tolerate you, Ale," Myrtle said. "You'd think they'd question letting you in here, even with the badge."
"Aye, you'd think so. But Darak is a respected dragon and people listen to him when he explains why he's done something. It's not like he hands these things out willy-nilly, either way. There's only ever been another... two badges given out, I think. I'm not sure who they belong to. I'd have to ask Darak for you."
"Eh, it's not really that important," Roland replied with a smile. "Thanks for letting them make the helmet anyway. And you, girls... Seriously, thanks so much. I love it. I do have another question, though... What about when I outgrow the helmet? My head's going to get bigger."
"I did a little something just for that!" Tris bounced over, excited to show off whatever invention she'd placed inside his helmet. That personal touch made it worth a thousand times more to Roland. She raised a paw to his head as she moved behind him. "This little thing on the back here increases the size of the helmet, and the other one moves and increases the size of the horn holes. It shifts the layered plates. We made sure the padding inside was tightly packed as well, so it could stretch out."
Not only had he obtained a helmet, he'd gotten probably the best headgear on the market. It suited him, was comfortable to wear, and would last him many, many years. Now, if only he had a complete set of this stuff...
That was wishful thinking, and he wouldn't ever ask something so great of Tris. They didn't have the time – and she probably didn't have the knowledge – for that.
"Well, anyway..." Roland went to rub a paw through his frills, but he realised he still had the helmet on. He felt like an idiot. "I, uh... I should probably get going to Wren's place now. He'd be waiting for me."
"The Guardian?" Alevor asked. Right, of course, Alevor had no idea what was going on still. Myrtle and Tris had kept their quest a secret from the llama. Roland was sure they could trust him with that knowledge, but it wasn't like he needed to know. "You must be an important dragon, Roland."
"I'm... his student? Yeah, student," Roland said. The blacksmith frowned, furry arms folded.
"Didn't think an ice dragon could train a fire dragon, but whatever works."
"It's a long story." Roland turned away with a wave. "See you guys later."
"Bye, Roland!" Tris called as he exited the building. "Enjoy the helmet!"
Roland snickered to himself. He definitely would. He was beyond grateful for the gift. Nobody had ever done such a kind thing for him. He'd met Tristana back in Firemore barely a month ago, but here she was, offering him this for hardly a month's worth of friendship.
Well, friendship did come quicker in dire situations, too.
If anything, he was sure about one thing. He loved his friends more than anything in the world.
As he left the smithy with a skip in his step, he heard the llama's voice echo from within the walls.
"Hey, Tris! Can you light this lantern for me with your magic? It's getting late and I want to keep working through the dark!"
Roland kept walking for a while longer, deeming it as unimportant to him. He came to a sudden stop a moment later, like he'd hit a solid wall. His breath held still and, in an instant, worry spiralled through the depths of his mind.
Lighting a lantern? With her magic? After he'd witnessed her panic every time she'd tried to use it since the Everlost Forest?
Roland knew this couldn't be good. His throat tightened around a sphere of fear, one he barely managed to swallow. He had a lingering thought that tried to tell him he could move on and that she'd end up fine, but he wouldn't dare listen to it.
He swivelled around and jogged back towards the smithy, feet pattering atop drenched stone. He entered the doorway, then felt paused before he padded around the corner, hesitation telling him to halt. He could hear what was going on around the bend, knew exactly the storm about to strike this house.
"...Tris?" the llama repeated. "Are you... okay?"
There was no answer from her. Her muffled breaths came in gasps; she chose to focus on that, not the people around her.
"Oh, crap..." Myrtle muttered under her breath. "Fuck–"
"I-I need to go," Tris exclaimed, forcing those words out like a splutter. She started dragging her feet across the floor. Alevor, however, had other ideas.
"Hold on there, Tris." His gloved hand met her back, and her feet stopped their movement. "Tell me what's wrong. Did I do something? Say something?"
Roland didn't hear another word from her. It was then that he decided to hold his breath and make his entrance. Alevor and Myrtle were obviously surprised to see him, but Myrtle lost that sense of shock quickly.
Tris clenched her eyes shut when hers met Roland's. A tear trailed down her cheek.
"Tris..." Roland approached her, quivering himself. He wasn't certain what to say. He lowered his voice, like he could break her with noise. "Is everything okay? What's been causing this?"
At one point, she'd been gasping for air. Now she wouldn't breathe at all. She crouched down, everything trembling. Roland and Myrtle shifted closer, both with an outstretched paw to place upon her.
"Do you need to go somewhere to calm down?" Myrtle asked. "Is–"
"I can't breathe," she said, her voice so low that Roland could only faintly make out the words. Something about that made Myrtle's face twist. Realisation glowed like a bulb newly lit. Roland had a fair idea, too. He knew it was going to be worse than the others.
Myrtle set a paw upon Tristana's foot. "Focus on your breathing. Don't–"
"I-I'll hurt everyone," the yellow dragoness whispered. "I'll..."
"Don't think about any of that. Listen to Myrtle." Roland propped his foot upon her shoulder. "Everything's going to be okay, Tris. Trust us."
"Just like Harper..."
Roland had a feeling that that was where her panic had spawned.
"Tris." Myrtle squeezed her paw with her own. Tris looked up, eyes glazed over with moisture. "Roland's right. Everything's gonna be fine. Breathe with me, okay? In and out. C'mon."
Myrtle inhaled, slowly and calmly, through her nostrils, then let the air escape through her mouth. Tris watched her with tearful eyes, then tried her best to join in. They seemed to shake with the might of leaves in a hurricane – she was starved for air. It didn't calm the wildfire raging inside of her.
Her mouth moved as if to gasp, yet nothing came once more. She shook her head, tears casting angry, pale scars along her face. "N-no... No, I..."
"Everything will be okay," Myrtle said, refusing to give up the example she'd shown Tris. She breathed in again, radiating a layer of peace Roland had never seen from her before, or thought he would see ever again. "You've gotten through this before and you can do it again. You will do it again. Don't focus on any of that stuff you're thinking about. Just breathe, Tris. That's all. You can do this."
Tris choked on a sob, but she listened. Something started to happen at that point. She snapped her eyes shut, inhaled sharply through her nostrils, and let it all out through her mouth. Her breath came again, then again, until finally each lungful of air stopped quivering with panic. Everything slowed, like Roland had placed a crystal near her.
It took a bit longer for Tris to really regain composure. Roland sat there for a solid two minutes in silence with the blacksmith. Seemed the llama had no clue what was happening or how to deal with it; he stood off to the side, arms threaded together, back and boot against the wall, face cast to the floor. Myrtle had become an expert in seconds, though, as if she'd experienced exactly this kind of thing.
Maybe this same thing had happened when Tris disappeared that other night.
"See? You're okay. Good job, Tris." Myrtle smiled reassuringly. Roland had never seen her speak so kindly in his life. It was an odd sight to see, but he was more than thankful to see it.
Tris returned Myrtle's happiness, at ease, though it was swift to disperse. Something else lined her expression, a painful mixture of guilt and confusion.
"It was Harper, yeah?" Myrtle asked her. Roland already knew it was that, but it was better to not reach an assumption. "The whole thing in the forest?"
"I-if I use my magic, I-I'm just going to hurt somebody again," Tris responded. "I just..."
"That's not true." Roland frowned. "You hit him because you were trying to protect me, right?"
"I didn't... didn't want to hurt him like that," Tris said with a sigh. "I was aiming for his paw, his gun, but the lightning was too powerful and it arced. I th-thought I had control, b-but... I-I don't deserve magic. I can't use it without hurting people!"
"Tris..." Myrtle cocked her head. "We all make mistakes. Roland had to tell me that last night. Just 'cause it didn't come out the way you wanted before doesn't mean you're gonna hurt more people when you use it again. You were scared back in the forest. We wouldn't expect you to have control."
"D-doesn't change the fact that I almost killed him..." Tris wiped a paw across her eye. "I–
"I think you did a good thing," Roland told her. "You saved my life, Tris. If you hadn't been there..."
"I could've done it differently. Maybe if we'd stopped him differently, he'd still be coming with us..."
Of course, Roland should've expected that. Even in spite of everything, she still wanted her father. And she had a point, too. Maybe if they'd been able to stop him, he'd still be with them to this day. Maybe he could've worked his way into doing better the next time.
Perhaps he could've been willing to give Harper another chance, but Harper had tried to kill him, and he had no reason to believe the cheetah wouldn't have tried it again. Ashlyn had been a different story.
"Maybe, Tris." Myrtle shrugged. As Roland took his paw off her shoulder, Myrtle put hers atop Tris. "But there's nothing we can do about that now. I just don't want you to blame yourself, okay? Roly's right; you saved him, and you probably saved me from whatever he was going to shoot next. For that, I owe you a massive fuckin' debt, one I can't repay. You love your dad and that's understandable, but he was dangerous and we couldn't keep goin' with him. I'm glad you came with us instead of staying with him."
"M-maybe I could've helped him get better," Tris replied, desperately clinging onto whatever reason she could find, no matter how weak.
Myrtle clutched her shoulders a little more tightly. "And what if you couldn't? What if he really started to hurt you, or worse? Is that really worth your life? Would you die for him? To be honest, Tris, I... I couldn't see anythin' other than that happening."
Tris opened her mouth, but stopped there. She sniffled softly. Myrtle gave her a short smile; she'd come out of this argument victorious. The green dragoness lifted her legs and folded them around the yellow dragoness in a strong embrace. Tris didn't waste a second gently pushing her cheek against Myrtle's.
Roland sat against the wall, patiently awaiting their parting. They were in full comfort of each other. Neither wanted to leave it. If they could've sat there all evening, they would've.
And, if Roland was being honest, he really wouldn't have minded watching that.
"Well..." Alevor spoke up a while later, scratching at the tightly-knitted woollen fur atop his head. "I've heard a lot today. I think I understand it, but..."
"You've been real good to me and Tris, Ale," Myrtle said as she separated herself from her friend – the electric dragoness looked incredibly disappointed to have to leave it, but accepting – and gave her attention to the quiet blacksmith. "I think you deserve to know what's happenin' to the world and us. We might need a bit of help, actually."
Roland wasn't sure what assistance they could garner from the atlawa smith, but Myrtle was an intelligent girl. She definitely had a plan. He didn't mind telling Alevor of the transpired events either way.
And so began another explanation of their journey so far after Roland shut the door so nobody could eavesdrop as easily. Myrtle quietly recounted the Everlost Forest, the troll they'd fought when Tris had run off, and Harper's drunken anger when he'd popped a bullet into Roland's stomach. She touched on the plans of the Warfang Guardians and Wren's supposed allegiance with her and her friends, and then she went over the wyverns, their curse and the purple dragon. Finally, the topic of why they were going after Drevon, because he was a good friend of theirs. It was long ten-minute explanation of everything happening and Roland didn't expect Alevor to comprehend it all, but the llama seemed rather accepting of the new information, something the red drake hadn't been expecting.
"You see, Ale," Myrtle continued, a paw against her chin as she pushed her spine into the door to the bedroom, "we need a boat to get to Dante's Freezer so we can get Drevon back, and we can't buy one. It's way too far to fly."
"Aye, I'm aware," sighed the blacksmith. "This is all so sudden. The world's going to end if you don't do anything... Is that right, Tris?"
"Yeah." Tris nodded once. She'd sat herself near Myrtle, right on her side. "I know it's all really confusing. It confused me when I heard about it. It took me a while to accept it and to decide to come along with Myrtle and everyone else. I chose to come because, you know... they were my friends. And to help save the world, which is... a weird thought in itself." She laughed a little at that last part.
"Well, if you're saying it, lass, then I'll believe you all." Alevor grinned slightly himself. "I did wonder what those streaks in the sky were. Haven't seen anything at all that might make the Guardians evildoers, but like I said, I'll believe you. It's the only explanation we got. I thought Darak was making plans to better reinforce this city with soldiers instead of the hidden force he has now, but... does that mean he's working with the Guardians on this?"
"I didn't even consider that," Roland said, more to himself than anyone else. Breaking his train of cloudy thought apart, he looked back at Alevor rather than ceiling. "But maybe. I don't feel like he is, though. The way the Guardians put it, they were working against him, not with him. I think they're looking to slowly convert everyone to their belief for whatever reason, and I'd say this is a pretty weak target because of the recent revolution and the fact there's only dragons. Do the dragons here hate you, Ale?"
"They... tolerate me," Alevor responded with a saddened sigh. "They know I'm a good blacksmith, but a lot of them don't consider me as much of a person, maybe because a lot of them were part of the revolution. Aye... It gets on my nerves sometimes."
Roland gave a bow of the head. "Then I think it's safe to say they hate everyone else. What the Guardians believe in is very pro-dragon, and because they're Guardians, I'll bet everyone here is willing to listen to them. Some people just don't have a mind of their own. They'll consume whatever rubbish you throw at them. The Guardians back in Firemore did stuff like that sometimes. People just listened and didn't even think."
"I don't think it'll be that easy for them to start talking people into what they believe," Tris said. "But it's not like it matters. They're kind of just finding stuff to do. They think the world's going to end and restart with dragonkind at the top soonish, and they probably think they'll be reincarnated for 'doing the work of Malefor' or something. It almost feels like they're doing this because they're bored..."
"Eh, not somethin' we have to worry about, though," Myrtle replied with a sigh. "We can't do anythin' about that. We just need to focus on gettin' Drevvy back. And that's why we need you help us, Ale. We're gonna need to borrow you and your boat."
"Well, I was leaving Shimmervale to head off to the Shattered Vale for a bunch of comissions soon. They all wanted rubies and I know a good seller of gemstones over there. I guess I can drop you off at Dante's Freezer on the way."
"Great!" Roland cheered. "Listen, uh... We might have to leave at night. We have a big monster we keep as a pet back at our cave, and we're gonna need to bring him here under the cover of darkness. Can you arrange that?"
"Monster?" Alevor asked.
"It's a dreadwing," Roland explained with a chuckle. When Alevor gave him a frown, he felt the urge to elaborate further. "They went extinct a long time ago, and... Okay, it's probably better just to show you when we get him here. He's a bit scary-looking, but in reality he's big ball of hugs and snuggles. He's a good boy. His name's Fluffy."
"Fluffy, eh?" Alevor shrugged. "Welp... I guess I can make that work. As long as he'll fit on board."
"Yeah, he'll fit." Myrtle nodded. "Thanks a lot for this. You're doin' us a serious favour here. You're doin' the world a favour."
"Aye, but don't thank me yet. We need to leave first. When will that be?"
Roland took the helmet off and held it to his chest; it was so comfortable, so remarkably light, that he hadn't even felt it there on his head. Already it felt like a natural part of his body, like a second cranium. "I'm not sure. It could be tomorrow, though I doubt it. It'll probably be a little while yet, maybe a week while Wren figures out how this time magic stuff works. Just be prepared for anything. If you don't mind, we might have to wake you up suddenly at night."
"Aye. All good. I don't sleep deeply anyway." The llama chuckled a bit. "Thanks for telling me this either way. It's good to finally have some resolution to everything that's happened. First Firemore exploding, and now world-ending magic eaters... I just wonder what's coming for us after that."
"Ha, you got that right." Myrtle chuckled. "Some new ancient evil is gonna come along and destroy the fuckin' solar system next time."
Everybody managed a hearty laugh at that one. It was so horribly depressing, and yet somehow it remained funny to Roland in spite of that. It was kind of eerie, actually. Had he really become that desensitised to blood and death?
"Anyway," the green dragoness continued, patting Tris on the back with her wing. "I say we get going back to the cave and let Roland go see jerkface. What do ya say?"
Tris pulled herself up, using Myrtle's leg as a support to balance herself. "That sounds fine to me."
"I guess I'll see you two later, then," Roland said. "Thanks again for the helmet."
"No need!" Tris waved to him. "Bye, Roland!"
He gave a short wave back and watched them leave together, Myrtle glued to Tristana's side like she'd suddenly turned into Fluffy, a smile on his face. He uttered a quick goodbye to the blacksmith, fitted the helmet to his skull again, then rushed off, excited. Even if it wouldn't come for a while yet, Roland was glad to have a solid foundation to this plan. Being certain he could get something done was one of his favourite feelings in the whole wide world. Change was rough, but a carefully constructed plan made it so much more pleasant
It was about time to figure out what Wren had in mind for Drevon.
A wash of featureless orange glossed over the sky, the sun a blazing beacon in the west, Roland lighted on Rookborough Avenue and started walking, allowing his sore wings a rest. In his excitement, he'd flapped hard and fast passing dragons on his way to Wren's, probably a mistake on his part. The ground was dry and the snow didn't come back, but that nippy feeling in the air remained. Roland could only imagine what it would be like here in a couple weeks.
Not that he'd experience that. He felt like he'd be gone by then. He didn't have all the time in the world to waste here in Shimmervale. Wren could surely figure out what needed to be done in that time, considering how much he'd figured out beforehand.
"Well..." Roland smirked to himself. He was heading to Dante's Freezer. It'd be appalling over there, a merciless snowstorm. He didn't think the worn scarf tied around his neck would be enough to keep him warm. Thankfully, he had a Fluffy to snuggle with.
The thought of the cold didn't really bother him, though. If it was for Drevon, he'd go through anything. To the depths of hell, to the heavens, wherever. He couldn't give two shits wherever that dragon went. He would find him, and with Wren's increasingly promising assistance, he'd break him free of the chains holding his mind captive.
Wet feet pattering in the puddles, Roland sped up a little bit. There was nobody to dodge on the quiet avenue, nobody that could interrupt or stare. He liked this street a lot. It gave him time to ponder things alone, away from the chaos of his fun-loving friends. He loved his friends, definitely, but Myrtle caused a little too much excitement sometimes. Not that he minded much; Tristana loved every bit about that green dragoness, and Ashlyn seemed to have a good time watching everyone's happiness. He always put the feelings of his friends over himself.
But this silence was nice for once. Apart from the whirling chirp of a bird perched in the branches of the avenue's trees, peace reigned supreme.
He didn't think he would ever feel so comfortable inside a city occupied almost solely by dragons. Firemore had been a different experience, variety a normality, even if it'd been mostly dragons, cheetahs, and moles. Rare were other species, like the salamanders and manticores from the Dustlands, but he'd seen a couple before. Apparently the salamanders had once been prey to the manticores. After shared civilisation came to the Dragon Realms after the signing of the treaty, they'd opted to live in harmony instead.
That was what he'd heard anyway. The Dustlands these days were a place teeming with crooks and outlaws like grains of sand. He wasn't sure if the manticores and salamanders still called that place home. There had been a major settlement there, he remembered, called something along the lines of 'Goldwell,' but he wasn't exactly certain. Who knew if they still inhabited that risky place? They'd probably headed elsewhere and left it to be ravaged and occupied by lawbreakers. He knew they weren't a common race in the Dragon Realms anymore, at least. Most had moved overseas.
In his thoughts, he'd totally forgotten where he was supposed to be going and had missed Wren's house, his feet now at the fence lining the cliff to the sea. He felt the need to prop his paws up on the tight chains and look out over the ocean. He wasn't looking in the direction of Dante's Freezer; if he turned his head to the south, he would be. Not that the island of blizzard and storm was visible from this distance. That was why he needed a boat.
No islands between it to take breaks on, nothing at all. Just open, clear sea, the sun sparkling like white-hot topaz along its surface. He sighed, inhaling the crisp air of the sea, breathing that familiar scent. One that reminded him of all the loss and hardship he'd endured.
Roland felt like someone at his age would've gone insane over all this. He'd gone through a lot, definitely for a kid of fifteen years. So had all his friends, all fifteen and sixteen respectively. They'd done well so far to keep their spirits high. Without his friends, he wouldn't have made it to Shimmervale, probably not even to the Everlost Forest, or maybe even Midrun.
He'd be a mutilated corpse in the water if not for Ashlyn. Just another ashen casualty if he'd decided to end it all back in Firemore, if the thought of his friends hadn't come to him.
He really loved them all. He couldn't express that enough. Myrtle had been his friend for years because of how kind and playful she was, Tristana was so nice, and Ashlyn... Well, he found himself liking her quite a bit.
He almost wanted to go as far as to say he had an attraction to her – she was cute and made him laugh a lot, and furthermore was always trying to help out and always making him feel so much better about himself. She'd prioritised doing those last two things. She was a prime example of someone really trying their best, and Roland liked that about her a lot.
But he wouldn't go that far about her. He regarded her as a good friend, not much more than that. Cute, sure, but not somebody he'd love. Not yet anyway. Not that she'd like him that way ever.
He snickered to himself. It was a funny thing to think about. Once more, he let all his breath out in a sigh.
"Oh, right," he said to himself. "I'm supposed to be going to Wren's..."
Roland let go of the chains, gave the ocean one last long glance, then spun around. He tried to brush a paw through his frills again, but like the last time, he had a helmet on and he realised he was even more of an idiot. He put a foot forward, about to head to the ice dragon's temporary home.
The puddles to his right splashed, and before he could comprehend what was happening, a force slammed into his side, winding him. His body left the ground, somebody's limbs tightening around his torso. He went still for a second, his mind swimming with confusion, before beginning to struggle in the grip of whatever creature had grabbed him off the path. The wind was like a tornado against his face – he looked forward and realised he was headed straight for the closest alleyway.
Roland tried to yell out, but a metallic hand clamped his jaws shut. Muffled, he screamed into his own mouth, writhing in shock and panic, heart thumping to the beat of sprinting boots. Another set of hands gripped onto him as he got a look at the creature carrying him.
Tall and bipedal, features covered by an iron mask and a hooded cloak of green. He barely had time to register that they looked liked cheetahs as he was shoved against the wall of the alleyway. He flicked his tail around to try and slice at one of them, but it was barely of any use. With their four steel paws, they pinned every bit of his body to the wall and scratched his scales. Their strength was beyond Roland's limitations.
He was still yelling into his muzzle by the time one of them smashed their fist into the side of his jaw. His eyes snapped shut, tears stinging at their corners. One of the figures pushed their face inches from his. Roland got a blurry look at the sharp daggers staring at him from beneath the cover of the mask.
"Be quiet and stop struggling if you want to live, drake," he said in his deep, muffled tone. Roland listened without hesitation, choking on the sobs rising in his throat, trying so desperately to breathe after being winded. "Answer truthfully and we'll see about letting you go."
"W-what..." Roland's breathy voice came. "W-what d-do you want? W-why–"
"You are the time dragon, correct?" the other feminine figure asked.
The time dragon? They... They were working with the Guardians, weren't they?
If he told them, they'd probably kill him!
"N-no!" He forcefully shook his head. "W-what are you–"
A low punch to the gut cut him off. Roland spluttered, face falling as sobs shattered the wall he'd tried to construct in his throat. He wanted to scream for help, but if he tried, they'd kill him on the spot. The male biped grabbed his muzzle and pushed his chin up so his neck was pulled tight, horns brushing against the wall. The other put a dagger against his throat; he could feel how sharp it was against his scales, like the toothed blade wanted to chew through his oesophagus.
"Don't. Lie."
He could feel them glaring through their masks, almost as keenly as the knife was.
"We've been watching you and the Guardian. We saw the crystals and we saw Wren's betrayal. That was time magic, yes?"
There was no other choice. He had to tell them, or they'd slash right through his neck.
"Y-yeah," he coughed out. "Why does it matter? W-what do you want!?"
"Alright. We're taking you to the Guardians. We'll see how they–"
There came a noise, like a choke, and then the dagger fell from Roland's neck. The female biped looked to try and scream, but all that came was a gurgling as crimson spurted from her neck. She slumped over, a tight paw around her throat as if to strangle herself, as another bullet of lead met her skull and killed her. There was no gunshot. Nothing at all. Almost silently, she was gone as quickly as Roland had met her.
Roland regained most control over his body as she died, but was paralysed with fear. He stared into the body in horror, then looked back up at the cheetah who couldn't help looking at his fallen comrade. Roland shook his mind free of shock before flicking the dulled end of his tail blade between the legs of the other figure. He tried to saw at it, tried to cut off whatever was there. Fortunately for him, it worked.
The remaining green-cloak grabbed the area and fell onto his knees, dropping Roland. The red dragon tripped over the body on the ground as he tried to run, then felt the gauntlets of the figure latch onto his tail. They pulled against him for only a second before the force immediately slackened.
Roland saw and heard the steel mask fragment as another bullet broke through, revealing the cheetah's face beneath. His blue muzzle gaped like the bloody hole in his forehead. Roland didn't look back as he freed his tail and broke into a sprint, cheek flaring.
There was a figure in front of him, the same green cloak and mask, the smoky barrel of an E.F. pointed in his direction. Roland skidded to a halt, flashbacks of when Harper had put a gun in his face surfacing. He didn't get a good enough look at the weapon to tell what kind it was when the figure shoved it back into its holster and dashed off, down the street and into another alleyway.
Roland wanted to call, wanted to ask who the hell they were, but couldn't jump at the opportunity to. He gasped for air. He cleared the tears from his eyes and looked back at the murder committed in front of him.
He wondered for a second if more of them were around, and then ran in a panic towards Wren's house.
Why were there cheetahs? Why not dragons? And who had the other one been?
Roland just hoped he wasn't being followed by anybody else. That must've been what he'd spotted a while ago, that tinge of colour that disappeared when he looked in its direction. How long had they known about him for?
Had Brenton actually noticed him?
If anything, now he knew the Guardians were aware of his existence. His life was in danger and, from what the cheetahs had said, Wren's too. He couldn't let his only teacher die...
Roland didn't even knock on Wren's door as he sprinted up the steps. He just turned the unlocked door handle and barged on through, slamming it shut behind him. He yelled Wren's name. Something shifted inside the living room around the bend of the T, then proceeded to trip onto the floor with a thump.
"Roland?" the Guardian called, jogging around the room, coming to a sudden halt before the red dragon. "W-what is the meaning of this!? Why would you simply barge into this–"
"Cheetahs!" Roland exclaimed. "In cloaks! Th-they jumped me, t-took me into an alleyway, and s-said they were gonna take me to the Guardians! I think we've been found out!"
Wren seemed to suppress the urge to gasp in horror. Something about that expression was eerily accepting of that fact.
"I expected this..." The Guardian started shaking his head. "They're everywhere in this city. Those people are a part of the guard here, the people that watch and do Darak's bidding. I never thought they were cheetahs, but..."
"This isn't a time to be calm!" Roland said, breathing sharp, almost agonising breaths through his nostrils. "There could be more on the way! What do we do!? What are–
"Calm yourself!" The Guardian shouted, hulking over the red dragon. Roland stopped his futile panic and looked up at Wren. "Panicking isn't going to get us anywhere. We need to keep calm and figure out a course of action. It seems the other Guardians didn't trust me with the information of the cheetahs. Seems my ruse had already been shattered, and now I believe they're after us both. We need to leave now. We're heading for the docks."
Wren padded past him. Roland looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "What? I'm not going anywhere yet! Not without my friends!"
"Bugger your friends!" Wren snapped, his head spinning towards Roland. The ice dragon sighed as he turned around to pacify himself, but his ability to keep himself under control was already being wrestled with. "They don't matter. You're the time dragon. They are not. We're both in danger. We need to leave!"
"No!" Roland shouted. If this was what Wren thought they should do, he could forget it! He wasn't going anywhere with this dragon, not without his friends! "I'm not leaving without them!"
"There's no time, Roland!" The Guardian stomped back towards him. "Either we leave now or we get attacked and possibly killed!"
"No! We're getting them!"
Wren clamped onto him with a paw and jerked him forward. Roland tripped over, more tears brewing in his eyes. "Get a move–"
"Get AWAY from me!" Roland squirmed out of his grip and rushed forward, out the door. He leaped down the stairs, but as he did so, icy tendrils sprouted from the ground beneath him and froze his feet to the path. He tried to snap his legs free, but Wren's magic was far stronger than any ice he'd encountered. The Guardian wasn't even trying to hurt him, yet the freeze chilled the bones beneath his scales in a heartbeat.
Roland felt fury rush through his veins, blood brought to a boil. Wren padded after him, fangs bared through his muzzle, but before the dragon could open his mouth to persuade Roland again, the red dragon's composure snapped like a frail autumn leaf.
He drew his head back, mana burning in his throat, before jerking forward, a burst of amber light and a keen crystal blasting forward. Wren hadn't a moment to react. His grip on his magic slackened as the crystal ate through the thin scales protecting his shoulder and buried itself in his flesh. Wren roared, voice oddly distorted and slow, and the magic around Roland's feet began to melt, allowing Roland a chance to escape
Roland looked at Wren's pained expression for only a second longer before he leaped into the sky and shot through the air, shattering the ice magic, heart pounding into his breastbone, pronounced in his ears like the kick of a drum.
"We need to go."
Roland hoped they'd just listen to that as he made his way back to the hollow, but his expectations were unrealistic. There was confusion abound; Myrtle got up, her face twisted into puzzlement.
"Uh... What's happening?" She paced over to the panting red dragon, saw his tear-stained cheeks and eyes, and then grabbed a hold of his shoulder with her paw in worry. "Roly? Are you okay?"
"People..." he said, looking up. "Th-there's people after me. They t-tried to kill me, and then I went to Wren's and he tried to force me to leave Shimmervale with him, b-but I came back for you guys."
Tristana jumped to her feet in surprise. Roland looked around as Myrtle tried to process everything, in search of the blue dragoness, but she was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the fluffy monster he called his companion.
"Where's Ashlyn and Fluffy?"
"Sh-she went out to hunt. Fluffy went with her," Tris answered, panic like her own worst fears had been realised shaking the chords of her voice. "I-I knew we shouldn't have come here. I wasn't comfortable with the whole 'only dragons' thing, but now this..."
"Okay, okay," Myrtle interrupted her, shaking her head. She put a paw to her forehead, closed her eyes, and tried to think. "They... They don't know we're here, do they? We need to wait for Ashlyn and Fluffy."
"I-I dunno. That's what's scaring me," Roland said. "They've been watching me, I know. They probably know we're–"
There came a whistle like a bird whizzing past his head, then a thunk. Roland recoiled, a sharp sting rushing through his neck before numbing entirely; he grabbed at the projectiles stuck in his throat and pulled them out of his neck. Darts of some kind...
His eyelids felt like lead weights.
Something was trying to push him, but he couldn't focus and tripped onto the ground, not feeling the force of the impact, not using his paws to instinctively catch himself. He just fell, his vision starting to darken.
Somebody was calling him, but he couldn't make out the voice in his ears. His head jerked as someone tried to slap him – at least, that was what he thought they'd done.
Breathing was strenuous. He wanted – no, needed to curl up and sleep. He didn't even know what he'd just been doing. Nothing felt right anymore. He didn't care to try and move.
Something entered the hollow, a wave of flailing green, but that was all he could make out. Everything faded as his conscious mind set him free.