A/N:: Whee! Double whammy, whatever the hell that is! Two chapters, like I promised… to Cruzer…… just enjoy.

Disclaimer?:: I own nothing. For the love of Goddramon, I'm in high school! How could I? …Well, yes, world takeover is an option, but I won't utilize that until college.

Summary?:: A war between knights and dragons; The mage has erased the fine line between fantasy and reality, the sphinx finds a disturbing scene, and the Chief of Knights is forced into an unwanted arrangement. Chapter 5, enjoy.

Note:: I might as well keep saying it, just in case: "The Alpha male" is a Ginjika BlackWarGreymon.

Another Note:: Try and guess who the little blonde elf girl is! If you get it right, you'll get— Nothing! But you'll have the joy of knowing you were right.

Yet Another Note:: "placetne tibi" means (literally) "is it pleasing to you?" in Latin.

A Final Note:: All cliffhangers and the like will be revealed… eventually.

Dragon's War

Chapter 5: Daisuke and a Most Dangerous Game, Indeed – placetne tibi?

~*~*~*~

            The Alpha male grunted, narrowing his golden eyes. "I don't like him." Mimi patted his shoulder; murmuring something that made him jerk in surprise, then start pouting all over again. A deep-throated growl escaped him as he glared at the Mage.

            The rest of the clan had similar reactions, although none quite so hostile as the Alpha. Hikari and Sora bowed politely then went about their business, not as thrilled as Takato had hoped. Miyako was wary, but Ruki, even more so.

            Daisuke scratched the back of his neck, frowning slightly, "Maybe I ought to leave."

            "No!" Takato put his hand on the mage's shoulders, "I'm sure they'll warm up to you… just, uh," he searched his mind for a suggestion. None came.

            The mage sighed, "It's alright, Takato. I can sense when I'm not wanted… I get it a lot, if you can believe it."

            Takato slumped where he stood as Daisuke walked away. The mage was less than a few steps away when he suddenly stopped. He turned to Takato, the smile apparent on his tan face, "Before I go, d'you want to play a game?"

            "Sure!" Takato nodded vigorously, "What is it?"

            Daisuke turned his eyes to the sky, and then looked back to the boy, "Mages and Dragons."

            Takato cocked his head to the side, "I've never heard of that."

            Daisuke grinned mischievously, "I'll teach you, then." He gestured for Takato to follow, then turned and ran. The knight smiled and pursued. He had a feeling this was going to be interesting.

            So did Daisuke.

            Takato was out of breath by the time he caught up to the mage, who was scrambling around in some bushes, looking for something. There was a snap, and the man bounded up with two long twigs in hand.

            He handed one to Takato, and held his like a sword. "Now, you're the dragon and I'm the mage. We're going to swordfight, so anything goes. All right?" Daisuke held up his twig, and it became a sword. His clothes became armor, breast/back plate and gauntlets, and his cloak was red—he wore thicker, heavier boots than before, and the goggles around his head had been set on a red bandanna around his forehead.

            Takato looked down and found himself wearing a chain-mail shirt over a dark green tunic; the goggles around his neck had become a tight fitting, black, leather collar with large, silver spikes; his boots came up to his knees and looked heavy, but he felt no weight difference. He brought a hand to his chest to feel the chain, but there was none. He only felt his original shirt. The sword in his hand still felt like a twig.

            It was an illusionist's game…

            "Last one standing wins! Hah!" the mage lunged, bringing the sword down in an overhead stroke. Takato simply raised his sword, holding it horizontally, to block it.

            The fight began, and the boy had to admit, Daisuke knew what he was doing. But there was still no contest when Takato allowed his body to take over for his mind—it handled the sword better than his brain ever could. It was almost as if Takato was outside his body, watching himself beat back Daisuke with a twig that looked like a sword.

            They matched wits for several minutes, before Daisuke pulled out what looked like a dagger. He swung with a free arm, Takato jumped back to avoid the blade. His mind said it wasn't real, but his body had decided to play along.

            Daisuke quickly re-sheathed the dagger, and held the palm of his hand open wide, "I cast a Lightning spell!" A streak of blue light branched from his palm and shot towards Takato. The knight panicked and swung the sword. The lightning was deflected and bounced harmlessly away. Daisuke pouted, "You found the weakness," and then he smiled, "now you know how to play." He sheathed the sword and held up both palms, "Let's just advance, then. Hell's Teeth!"

            Jagged bolts of darkness shot towards the knight, he could only stare as it swirled and branched, before hitting him in the chest. Now he actually felt the pain, like a huge bull had rammed into him, full speed. Instantly, his image armor burst into tiny bits and floated away, leaving him in just the tunic. Takato collapsed, lying on his back, winded and aching, staring at the deep blue sky.

            Daisuke bent over, staring the boy in the face. "Mind's a powerful thing, eh? You okay?"

            Takato nodded slightly.

            The mage grinned, "Great!" He then jabbed the knight in the abdomen with his sword. "You're dead, I win." Takato glanced down, staring at the blood gushing from his stomach. Even though he knew it wasn't real, it still made him feel sick. Then, it all disappeared—the sword, the clothes, everything Daisuke had created. But he still smiled. "Want to play again? I'll let you be the Mage, this time."

            "Uhk," Takato replied. It was all he could manage.

            Daisuke scratched his head; "You want a breather, then?" Takato nodded. "Okay, I'll wait," and he flopped down aside the winded knight, sitting and smiling.

            The mage waited patiently for Takato to recover, occupying himself with watching the few clouds that passed overhead, spotting whatever shapes he could and pointing them out. All Takato heard for those moments was "Look, a cat!" or "Ooh, look, look! A dragon! See?" and other assorted objects and beasts. Daisuke looked so much like a child— so innocent and playful— that it seemed almost impossible to imagine him as he said he was, with no friends at all.

            After a while, Takato sat up, finally breathing normally. Daisuke jumped up, "Ready for round two? You can be the Mage, if you want."

            Takato, more wary about the game, nodded after some thought. "Alright… I'll be the Mage."

            Daisuke clenched a fist and punched the air, "All right!" He settled down a bit, but the grin never left his face. "Not many people like my game, y'know. Thanks for playing."

            "Uh," Takato nodded slightly, allowing a weak smile, "my pleasure." Again, the clothes appeared—this time Takato with the Mage's outfit, in a brilliant blue, and Daisuke as the dark crimson Dragon. Takato grimaced slightly as he looked himself over, "Dai… uh, how do I cast magic?"

            "Just say something. Y'know, like Lightning Spell, or you could just make up a name. Let the illusion make itself— it likes that."

            "Oh," Takato now felt more confident. He even returned Daisuke's grin. "All right then, shall we start?"

            "That's the spirit!" The mage held up his sword, "Bring it on!"

            Takato searched his mind for a suitable attack name, holding out his palms. "Uh, Wall of… Fire!" Instantly, a huge blaze rose up in front of him, rushing towards the mage, who gawked in amusement.

            Before the fire was close enough to hit him, Daisuke disappeared, and then reappeared in front of Takato. He was grinning, "Dragon's Speed."

            Takato panicked, quickly putting up a hand, smacking Daisuke on the nose as he did, "Fire-wall!"

            Daisuke shot backwards, toppling onto his back— Takato could hear the sizzle of the mage's clothes. Daisuke's armor dissolved just as Takato's had— the knight then realized that he could win; he ran forward quickly and jabbed the mage in the stomach with his sword. Like before, blood spurted from the wound.

            The images dissolved and Daisuke sat up, blinking. "Whoa." He gingerly rubbed his nose, and then got to his feet. "You sure you haven't played this before? You're very good."

            Takato smiled broadly, but tried to stay modest. "Well, you taught me."

            The mage returned the grin. "I know, I know- I'm the best."

            "Another round, master?" Takato was beginning to enjoy this game. It wasn't half bad if he actually won every once in a while.

            Daisuke held up the twig, "My pleasure, student."

            Takato smiled, "I'll be the Dragon again." The clothes reappeared—same as the very first round. Takato held up his sword, knowing now what to expect.

            Daisuke grinned, taking the sword in both hands and holding it over his head, "Lightning Blade!" The sword glowed with a blue light, and he ran forward, holding the sword horizontally—preparing to rush the knight. Takato held up his sword for a block, but Daisuke abruptly swung his sword and brought it down, hard, on the knight's right shoulder with the flat of the blade. Takato cried out and fell to his knees, gripping his arm with a free hand; Daisuke continued, however, bringing out the dagger and holding it up to finish him off.

            The mage didn't get to finish his attack. Another figure, strong and silent, brought a heavy yew staff across Daisuke's jaw. The mage collapsed, writhing on the ground and clutching his cheek with both hands. Takato looked up, staring into the cold face of Ruki, dressed in a black tunic and chain mail—she glared fiercely at Daisuke.

            Takato blinked in surprise, confusion, "R-Ruki, wh-what was that for? We're just playing a game…"

            She snorted in disgust, "Some game."

            It was then Takato realized Daisuke was not playing—he quickly scrambled over to the mage, forgetting his shoulder for the time being. "Dai! Dai, are you o-okay?"

            Daisuke's big, dark-brown eyes were brimming with tears, "No, thanks to her!" The clothes and swords dissolved, leaving Ruki in her original clothes, holding a long, crudely made quarterstaff.

            Ruki smiled, insincerely, of course, "You're welcome, mage." She resumed her stoic facet immediately, "Don't forget it."

            Takato stood abruptly, "Ru-ki! How can you be so mean to him? We're just kidding." Her fierce lilac eyes focused on him, "I… I think you owe Daisuke an apology."

            She stared, incredulous. "You…" she murmured, "you… idiot." Ruki tossed the staff down with all her strength, glaring at both the knight and Daisuke.

            Daisuke whined from his spot on the ground, "Is that her apology? I am not accepting that!"

            "You, shut up. I was nice with you." Ruki growled to the mage; her attentions returned to Takato. "I guess you're just as blind as any knight." She turned her back to the two, climbed a tree and disappeared into the sea of leaves.

            "Ouch," Daisuke hissed, watching Takato's bewildered face. "Wildfire burned ya'."

            Takato glanced at Daisuke, eyebrow arched. "What?"

            The mage sighed, still rubbing his jaw, "Nothing."

            The knight knelt on one knee, trying to examine the mage's jaw line. "Are you gonna be okay?"

            Daisuke nodded, "Yeah. I'm not capable of bruising, so it's all right."

            Takato nodded slightly, "Does it hurt?"

            The mage's head sunk back to the ground, whimpering, "What do you think?"

~*~

            Takeru lie sprawled out on his back on a huge bird's nest, contemplating. He wasn't sure why he could think best in this position, but didn't care enough to try and find another.

            What did Neo mean? Elves reign in both our futures— how did he know something like that? Takeru was positive that most Gryphon couldn't read their own futures—how did Neo do it? And if Neo could, why wasn't he here?

            "Takeru," the sphinx padded quickly in. "Takeru—nothing to report." Koushirou then lied down on the floor, curled up and glared at the cave entrance.

            The griffin sat up, "Then why are you in here?"

            Koushirou snorted, "Because there's nothing to report."

            "You're cold, aren't you?"

            The sphinx rolled over, his coal black eyes narrowed. "I don't see you sitting out there in the wind."

            "Alright, look—go walk or something, warm up. I need to be alone."

            Koushirou glanced at the griffin with tired eyes. "Fine." He rolled over onto his stomach and stood, padding out of the cave and bounding down the thin mountain trail.

            The sphinx had gone five hours with less than a disturbance. Koushirou began to wonder if anyone was even alive. He figured that he was coming closer and closer to the Village— he could already smell the Elvish horses.

            A sound rang out, echoing through the trees, coming from the direction of the Elven village. It took a moment before Koushirou realized that it was a vicious, bestial howl—triumphant, mournful, he couldn't tell exactly. A white horse raced past, its flank red with blood.

            The sphinx tensed, a shiver coursing through his spine. He took off at a run, heading for the Village as fast as he could make his huge lion-body go.

            A sad sight greeted him as he entered from between two thatched houses. Bodies lying in dried pools of blood, Koushirou counted over twenty around him—he could see the survivors were few. He approached a young Elven child, blonde as the sun with deep sea-green eyes. Her tunic, the color of forest leaves, was soaked in blood, but only her left hand was injured, nearly torn in half by something sharp. She was lucky—there were no fingers missing. "What happened here?"

            The Elf looked up at him, her eyes wide with horror, tears gently flowing. She shakily lifted her one good hand and pointed to the two mauled Elves that lie before her, then pointed to the sky. Koushirou nodded, although was still clueless—what flying thing would do this?

            A far older Elven boy came forward, with tawny hair and cobalt eyes, stepping in front of the little girl, "Tell him to leave us alone."

            Koushirou returned his attentions to them, "You're speaking to me?"

            He was glaring, "We didn't do anything to him! Tell him to leave us alone!"

            The sphinx blinked in surprise, "Him? Who-"

            "Don't play stupid with me! He killed my family, my horses—I'll kill him for what he did to us!" The boy's eyes were brimming with fresh tears. His voice grew calmer, "Tell him that…"

            Koushirou backed away, stepping over and around the scattered dead, a realization playing in his mind. … A griffin the griffin

            "I am from the Shiota—tell him I'll have my revenge!" the boy quickly rubbed his eyes with an arm, the other reaching back to grab hold of the younger girl's arm.

            The sphinx nodded slowly, continuing to back away, "I'll let him know…"

            The blonde girl tugged at the Shiota boy's torn sleeve, whimpering, "che fare, 'Kazu?"

            He turned to her, placing his hand firmly over hers, "I don't know."

~*~

            Yamato sighed, staring blankly at the open books on the table before him. He slumped in his chair, rapping his fingers on the wooden arm. His rotten mood slowly worsened as his felt the hard navy eyes of a dark-blonde man boring into his back. The man leaned on a waist-high, hickory walking stick, inlaid gold and silver decorating its length.

            The knight allowed his head to flop back against the headboard of his chair—he stared at the blank ceiling, praying for the man to go away.

            "Yamato," the man grunted in a rough tone.

            "What," the loath was apparent, "do you want, Father?"

            The man straightened his back, a frown creasing his face. "Don't speak to me in that tone, Yamato."

            "What tone?" Yamato spat, turning his sharp azure eyes to the man.

            "Your impudence will be your downfall, Yamato." The man took up the cane in one hand, placing his weight on his good left foot. "Don't look at me like that."

            "Like wh—" The cane caught the blonde young knight across the head. He jumped up from the chair, knocking it over; he grasped the side of his neck and stumbled into the desk. With fire burning his eyes, he turned to the man. "How dare you—"

            "Don't take that tone with me."

            Yamato pulled his hand away from his head and looked at it, then placed it back. "You— how dare you… you…" The knight pushed out a jagged breath, turning his back to the man. "I hate you."

            "No, you don't." Ishida replied, his harsh voice even and firm.

            Yamato spun, his hands brutally gripping the edge of the desk. "I hate you!"

            "No," the man repeated, colder than before, "you don't."

            The knight grabbed the leg of the chair and threw it, bellowing, "I hate you!"

            The man dodged it almost easily. He was incredibly agile for his age— one might not have even known he needed a cane by the speed he moved. He was at Yamato's side in an instant, bringing the cane across the knight's shoulders in trained slashes.

            Yamato fell forward, catching himself as he hit the floor and trying to roll away. The man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back to the center of the open floor, and there proceeded to lay down the law. Yamato fought back, punching and kicking—he was finally pinned after a good fight. The man held his cane lengthwise across Yamato's neck, pressing his weight onto the knight's lifeline.

            Yamato quit struggling, knowing he was beaten. He managed a strangled, "I hate you," before his eyes brimmed with tears.

            Extra weight on the cane stopped the formation of more, and he opened his eyes, staring into the cold dark ones of his father. The man stated plainly, "You don't hate me."

            Yamato nodded as best he could, "Yes, I do… I… you," he gasped for air, "you never let me say good-bye."

            "You didn't need to." Ishida Masaharu replied.

            "What was wrong with him?" rasped the knight. "Why did you—"

            The pressure on his neck increased, "You don't have a brother."

            "But I saw—"

            The man shoved quickly against the cane, making the knight yelp, "Repeat after me. You don't have a brother."

            "I don't… I don't have a brother…" murmured Yamato.

            "He never existed in the first place. Now, say it louder."

            "I don't have a brother." The knight's voice rose slightly.

            "Louder, damn you."

            Yamato glared, kicking up his knees against his oppressor with the last of his strength, roaring, "I don't have a brother!"

            He was released from the pin; air flooded his lungs. He grabbed at his neck, feeling the pulse that was pounding in his neck. He focused a hate-filled glare at his father as the man slowly picked up the chair and set it upright, then opened the study door and left.

            "Your impudence will be your downfall, Yamato."

            An astonished Ryo stared at the beaten Yamato from the hall.

            "You, apprentice!" the Ishida man turned to the knight. "Prepare my horse."

            Ryo nodded quickly, and with a final glance to Yamato, departed.

            "Apprentice," Yamato snorted silently. Ryo was his right hand.

            Master Ishida, after barking a fair complement about Ryo's skill in preparing a horse, rode off at a quick trot down the gravel road. There was a bit of business left in the village for him to settle.

~

            A young woman stared at the runes scribbled messily across the pages of her book. Her mind was not on the page, but somewhere completely different—she kept thinking back to her family, if her brother was well and with work, and if he was staying out of trouble.

            She wasn't pretty, but nor could she scare off animals at a glance. Rather, she was plain, if anything. She wore a knee-length tunic under a long, cotton, vest-like article that ran down to her ankles. She also wore thick, black leather boots that came past her shins, and several charms around her neck and wrists, completing her fashion. Her dull reddish hair stuck up at various angles, somewhat of a family style.

            Masaharu Ishida entered through the front door of the apothecary, the bells rigged around it jingling happily. He barked orders immediately, "You, witch, I've come for my results."

            She sighed, mentally rolling her eyes. "That's Jun, sir. No service if you can't remember your server's name."

            He grunted. "Fine. Jun."

            Jun nodded. "Better. Now, what?"

            "You sent me a letter—you have my future."

            "State your name," she droned, refusing to look up from the runes.

            The wooden cane he carried smacked against the counter top, "You know my name, witch."

            Her bored eyes trailed up from the pages, with a look that screamed 'you have to be kidding me.' In no way did he intimidate her; she'd lived long enough to know that there was nothing to fear from any mortal man on the planet.

            She studied his face for a moment, before nodding, "Whatever. Ishida, right? Yeah, it took me a while, but I figured it out." She slid off her seat to reach down and grab a book from the floor, flipping through the old, yellowed pages. When she came to a loose sheet, she plucked it from the book and quickly rolled her eyes before turning back to Ishida.

            The knight nodded slowly. "And?"

            Jun reseated herself on the stool and set the paper in front of her, nodded once, and pushed the paper towards the knight.

            He picked up the sheet and looked at it. He set it back down. "I can't read your handwriting."

            Jun mentally kicked herself, "Right…" She grabbed the paper and scanned it quickly, trying to decipher the illegible scribbles she'd apparently made in the dark. "… I can't read it either. Well, I'm pretty sure it said something along the lines of danger."

            The knight merely stared. "Oh? What sort of danger?"

            The witch considered, "Death-causing, I'm sure. I'd figured that it was the only kind of danger."

            He didn't look amused.

            Jun continued quickly; even though she didn't fear him, she didn't want him as an enemy, either. "Ah, y'know, the prophecy's coming back. Yeah— a great enemy grows in power everyday that he is ignored. And for every day that he is ignored is another injury that he will avenge."

            Now the knight's face beheld amusement. "Who is this enemy?"

            Jun shrugged. "All I could get was: he's closer than you think."

            He turned away from the witch, murmuring, "But I've killed all my opposition…"

            She scratched her ear and continued to shrug. "Could be the son of an enemy. Could be someone in your ranks. Could even be someone in the village."

            He whirled on her, "You're not helping."

            Jun threw up her arms, "Not my problem. Your future, you figure it out."

            Masaharu backed down somewhat, nodding solemnly. "All right. I understand… My thanks, witch Jun. What do I owe you?"

            The apothecary waved a hand dismissively. "Just go, it's all right."

            The knight gained a thoughtful look, "Isn't there anything I could do for you? Anything you want? Your information is invaluable, you know- I wish to repay you."

            A smile split her face as an idea dawned. "Well, sir—I believe your son promised me dinner together last week, but I haven't seen him since. Could you, milord, remind him for me?"

            The old knight considered, a small smile on his face, one that could almost be described as fiendish in nature. "Ah, I see. Well, then… how is your schedule two days from now?"

            Jun leaned on the counter, grinning broadly. "Empty as the sky the sparrows skim!"

            "Excellent," Master Ishida tapped his cane on the counter. "I will remind Yamato of his promise and send a horse for you at three hours past noon, two days from today. Is this acceptable?"

            "More so," murmured the apothecary, a dreamy look coming across her eyes. "I'll be waiting."

~*~

            Daisuke stared at his bobbing reflection in the small pond that the dragons used for drinking water. He carefully ran a finger along his jaw line, griping silently. He opened his mouth and scrutinized the reflection.

            Takato scratched his head, staring as Daisuke continued to examine himself in the makeshift mirror. "What're you looking for?"

            The mage glanced at the knight out of the corner of his eye, "I think your little friend might've knocked a tooth loose, or something." Finding nothing, Daisuke closed his mouth and sat up, then began to grumble all over again. "I don't want to go back now… It's too soon, she'll know…"

            Takato crawled next to the mage and sat, quickly sipping water from his hand to clear his throat. "Who'll know what?"

            "Ah?" Daisuke blinked his large brown eyes. "Oh, well—it's nothing."

            "Come on," the knight smiled. "You can tell me anything."

            The mage sighed, "It's nothing. You wouldn't understand, anyway." There was a long silence between them, broken only by the chirping of a single bird in the trees. Daisuke sat up and listened, then gently nudged Takato with his hand. "I'm going for a walk, alright?"

            "I'll go with you—"

            "No, you stay here. I'll be right back." And with that, the mage walked through the trees, leaving Takato alone. The bird had gone as well, and now there was only the sound of silence.

            Daisuke walked for a while before he heard the crunch of leaves behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, Ruki stood there, as serious as ever.

            Daisuke turned to face her, "You wanted to speak to me?"

            "You're a smart one, mage." She replied icily. "How'd you know?"

            He shrugged, a one-sided smile hovering on his face. "I know a thing or two about bird-calls. It's not that hard." He shifted his weight onto his other foot. "So what did you want to say? Was the jaw not enough? Come to break my ribs and back, too?"

            "As much as I'd like to," Ruki's face portrayed no emotion. "That's not what this is about. I don't like you, and you don't like me–"

            "Well, I never said that." He smiled, "I think if you were a little nicer, though, I'd like you more."

            "Shut up," she snapped. Daisuke shrugged apologetically, but the grin was still there. "Takato might trust you, but I don't. If you ever try to pull another stunt like that on him again—"

            "Stunt?" He put on his best innocent face. "I've never pulled a stunt in my life."

            "Don't lie to me, mage."

            "Ooh," Daisuke's eyebrows were perked at their highest. "Protective, aren't we?"

            The dragon took a step back, indignant. "What's that supposed to mean?"

            "Just… answer me this," the mage stepped forward with long, confidant strides. "Why?"

            Daisuke ducked low as Ruki's fist shot out, and narrowly avoided the second with a backwards roll—he jumped back up with a wide grin, and disappeared. Ruki stumbled, but quickly regained her balance, still fuming.

            She clenched her fists, turning around and around, seeking for sight of Daisuke. "I know what I saw, mage! You can't hide it much longer!" Daisuke's laugh sounded in her ears; she whirled, looking for him- but he was already gone. When silence resumed, Ruki could faintly hear a flute in the distance.

            "How I love your friends, Takato…" Daisuke murmured to himself, watching the young knight as he threw pebbles into the pond, bored.

~*~*~*~