A Wok of Infinite Light
Midnight Snack
The first and easiest decision for Regal to make was deciding what to do about Zelos, who had a habit of taking his half-joking title, Gilgamesh, a bit too seriously. Neither of them could take on such a massive creature as this Dark Chef's pet dragon on their own without extreme risks, and the Chosen of Tethe'alla never paid attention to risks (although he loved complaining about them).
"Zelos! Get this ship into port! I'll keep it distracted!" Regal commanded, leaping over the side of the EC. Predatory animals –and what else could any dragon be– had a tendency to be distracted by thrashing motions, and swimming with greaves on was no easy feat.
"Sheena will kill me if I get eaten," Zelos muttered, throwing a glance at Bryant floating in his wake. He had the feeling he was being Dealt With, as it would take a long time to find space for the EC at this harbour. "...Same if Regal gets eaten," he added. "I'd probably be staring down Efreet. Shadow if I'm unlucky."
The serpent rose from its temporary hiding place between two of the giant transports, flapping thick wings that seemed to rival the clouds in size. Fire roiled in the depths of its throat, as though the beast had swallowed a cartload of coal, and every time it gnashed its teeth, the docks were illuminated with a hint of dragonfire.
Regal's one advantage was that he could dive, thus surrounding himself with a thick layer of water to shield against the flames, but water boiled, and trying to rise again would be a task and a half. The Traubel style was not meant for aquatic battles. He would have to be artful instead.
Artful was never easy when you wanted it to be.
Realising that he was in serious trouble if he just floated about on the surface, where the wind was stirring up waves that constantly splashed him from all sides, Regal reluctantly slid underwater and made for the edge of the docks, where he might be able to climb onto dry land.
A massive object broke the surface of the water, like a spy-hopping whale in reverse. The dragon's head emerged into the penumbral blue world below the waves in a storm of bubbles, giving Regal a moment's obscurity. He kicked powerfully, driving in the direction that he remembered –and hoped and prayed– would take him to the closest ladder. The dragon, now perched on the stern of a docked ship, needed no such propulsion, but could pursue Bryant by stretching its overlong neck.
The shock of the water's cold embrace quickly wore off, as all things do on thirty-ton scaled monsters, and Regal quickly lost his lead. Twisting around in time to see the open jaws racing up behind him, Regal steeled himself and waited for the right moment. A second before being bisected, he dealt a jackknife kick to both rows of fangs, wedging his greave-armored legs into the space.
Now, thought Regal, if I weren't running out of air, this would be a good starting point. But the duke had another advantage, one developed over many years of unarmed combat, and many more of what might be best termed armless combat. He had flexibility and full-body muscle tone like the best athletes of all Tethe'alla, and had no trouble levering himself around in a long, vertical arc to drive his heel into the top of the dragon's snout. It snorted at the shock, blowing another cloud of bubbles into the water, and Regal took that next moment to push off again, putting more distance between them.
The dragon's neck had a limit, and Regal was nearly beyond it. That knowledge, plus fury at his insolence, sparked a fiery anger in the serpent, and it decided to give that fire a chance to express itself. Regal glanced back, saw that the scaled head was coming no closer, and paused to watch his plan in action.
Rage is known for causing people trouble at critical moments. The dragon was not used to its prey fighting back, causing harm, and decided that it would have to settle for feasting on that red-haired morsel. The satisfaction of watching this one burn would be much greater. That was likely the only thought in its head as the beast took a deep breath, having lost the air to fuel its flame when Regal delivered his desperate kick.
Underwater, this is a very bad idea.
With much thrashing and great spluttering roars, the dragon yanked its head out of the sea, creating a brief rainstorm in that half of the harbour. Water drained off its horns in a constant downpour, making the infernal predator look, momentarily, like a particularly vengeful version of the Loch Umacy Monster.
Regal, too, breached the waves at that moment, his lungs feeling like they would implode at any moment. The dragon was smart– it wouldn't dive after him again, but Regal had left his scuba equipment at home, and wasn't looking forward to going deeper himself. There had to be some way to reach the ladder (he could see it now, too far to rush and hope) before the dragon cleared its lungs and flamed again.
"You owe me for this!" shouted a familiar voice. "Air Thrust!"
The night air around Regal filled with luminous emerald zephyrs that swirled for a moment before diving under the water and merging into a single grass-green orb. It was a brief fusion, only a fraction of a second, and then it exploded in a tremendous burst of air.
Luckily, Bryant's upward momentum ran out before he reached the stratosphere, and he landed with unreal luck on giant heap of sacks that hadn't yet been filled with goods for transport. Zelos was leaning against the sacks lazily, and Regal suspected –once the world stopped spinning and his stomach righted itself– that he had made the heap, too.
"Where did you find all of these?" asked Regal.
"Uh... inside a big crate that may or may not have had the Lezareno Company seal on it."
"You're allowed to use company resources to save lives. And I owe you?"
"Yes," said Zelos.
"You do remember that time in Ymir Forest when the fish was about to–"
"Fine, we're even. I did save you in the Tower of Salvation, y'know."
"And there was that time I covered for you when Sheena came looking that night in Altamira–"
"Okay, okay, I still owe you! Will you just duck?!" Zelos dropped flat behind the sack-dune, and Regal rolled quickly to join him in the temporary shelter. It was particularly temporary due to the scouring fire that the dragon had just spewed forth, which washed overhead like a solar flare.
"That's impossible!" Regal said, looking over the top of the smouldering pile when the assault finished. "No dragon has fire of that calibre!"
"That curry must pack quite a punch," Zelos remarked. "Is my hair okay?"
"Unfortunately yes," said Regal grimly. Neither of them had any chance against that sort of blast; even Guardian and Bastion would be of little use.
"Whenever I volunteer for something I always regret it," said Zelos, barely peeking over the top of the pile. The dragon's head wove back and forth, apparently convinced that its human prey had escaped the blast.
How did the Dark Chefs manage to tame a creature of this power? A long blackened line ran across the stone docks, and one of the wooden piers had been blasted apart. One of these dragons would have no trouble destroying a city–
"Wait," said Regal. "...Curry?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. While you were lying on this pile like a concussed fish, that Dark Chef called his pet down for a snack. I could practically smell it from here; he must have put a kilo of red satay in," said Zelos, still mesmerised by the sight of the fiery behemoth.
"Curry..." Regal said slowly, "...is a Recipe of Power."
Zelos looked at him sceptically. "Say what? Did you hit harder than I thought, or what?"
"Quickly, Zelos, tell me about the hunting patterns of dragons," Regal insisted.
"Like I'd remember that? I was a mathematician, not a biologist. I told you before, I just got answers from the girls– hold on, my little helper in bio would have been... Priscilla, now she was a cute one–"
Regal had spent the time while Zelos rambled to lever a cobblestone out of the dock's surface. He now threw it as far from their badly damaged shelter as he could. The instant it clattered on the ground, the dragon's head swung around and unleashed another pyrotechnic catastrophe in that direction.
Zelos gaped. Regal gave him a hard look and stated "If you remember, it would be best to tell me now." The Chosen nodded with a sort of terrified enthusiasm.
"Uh... dragons... as soon as they encounter another living thing, they categorize it in one of three ways. Food, fire, or not worth fighting," said Zelos.
"And once it chooses, it won't ever change its mind?" Regal went on. Zelos shook his head. He still hadn't taken his eyes off the place where Regal had thrown his test stone. The rocks were bubbling. "Just like sharks," the duke remarked. He caught sight of some construction material that would be en route to Palmacosta in the morning– in particular the pipes for the new drainage system. "All right, I've got an idea."
The dragon grinned when Zelos reappeared from hiding, or at least showed its massive teeth. This one looked much more tender than the bulky blue-furred creature, and perhaps more easily cowed. The dragon stretched its massive wings and beat the air, lifting off the moored ship and crossing the harbour in a matter of moments. Zelos broke into a run and the dragon pursued, folding its wings in to give quicker chase.
As the red-crested human fled past a great pile of hollow iron tubes, it occurred to the dragon to wonder where its companion had got to, and if it might not be a better idea to flame that one before feeding. Its thoughts were interrupted by a shout in Human that it didn't recognise –"Heaven's Charge!"– and one of the pipes soared toward it.
The dragon twisted and caught this ungainly projectile lightly in its teeth, searching for the attacker. Regal had found the one space where he couldn't be immediately seen, and put it to his advantage. "Rising Dragon!" From directly under the monster's head he dealt a mighty upward kick, forcing its teeth to sink into the thick iron. He hoped it would be thick enough, or else his plan and life were about to hit a crippling obstacle.
Seeing Regal again, the dragon's hopes were more that this insignificant human wouldn't die too quickly in the flames. It breathed out, forgetting for a moment about the lodged pipe, while Regal scrambled for safety. At the back of the dragon's throat, the heat was intense enough to quickly melt away the first layer of iron, but then the pipe allowed those flames to escape, albeit a different route.
Zelos watched the dragon's fire blast out to either side of its mouth, looking a bit like someone trying to smoke two cigars at once and letting them get out of control. "Reminds me of that time I saw a fire-eater playing the flute," he remarked, watching the spectacle with the air of an art critic.
"Indeed. Now, you keep it busy," said Regal, patting Zelos bracingly on the shoulder as he ran past. The Chosen spun, full of indignation (or at least Thunder Blade).
"What? I thought now we did the thing!"
"Not yet!" Regal called over his shoulder. "I'll be back quickly!"
Regal turned sharply into a warehouse, vanishing from sight, and Zelos turned back to face the enraged dragon. Its fire was unusable for now, but according to Regal that wasn't a threat to him anyway. Those clawed feet were scary enough, and a good whack of its heavy tail would probably reduce the Chosen to something that could be sucked through that pipe like soup through a straw.
"Why is it that my bravest moments are always the ones when no one's watching?" Zelos muttered to himself, watching the dragon's movements closely. If he could just avoid getting pulverized for the next few minutes, this night might end without too much more pain. The dragon struck.
"For example," Zelos went on, rolling away from the clawed assault, "there was the bit where I lied outright to Pronyma over and over again before double-crossing the fallen hero Mithos Yggdrasill." Another kick hit some structural part of a building, and the Chosen only nearly avoided being violently shortened by wreckage. "And the time I fought the Sliver outside Flanoir after it knocked everyone else senseless."
"Grrrhhrraaarrr!" the dragon snarled, almost musically. It seemed to be trying to chew through its makeshift muzzle, something that Zelos didn't intend to see happen. He drew the Last Fencer, the sword Seles had given to him, and rushed the beast without the slightest falter in his step.
"This whole 'distract myself from imminent doom' thing seems to be working," the Chosen remarked. He had succeeded in getting under the dragon, as its vision was still obscured by the giant pipe, and set about making the world a safer place for prey like himself. With satisfying shlick sounds, he sheared off several of the dragon's serrated claws, then started running further under again before it noticed his presence. "And let's not forget saving everyone in the Tower of Salvation... oh, goddess."
Wilder dove to the side, barely escaping being crushed by the dragon as it dropped its massive body to the ground, but then the creature's wing slammed down too, forming a wall in his path. Zelos held out the Last Fencer as the wing swept toward him, but its fearsome bite was, to this beast, no worse than a dart to someone like Regal.
The dragon smashed Zelos with its wing and hurled him ahead before pivoting with unexpected speed and delivering a shattering blow with its tail. He cruised and tumbled across the stones, skidding painfully– or at least it would have been painful if he had still been conscious. Zelos limply skidded to a halt against the remains of a shattered wall.
With a horrendous metallic shriek, the dragon's jaws closed through the red-hot pipe, cleaving it into three pieces. It spat out the middle one, happy to have its jaws freely mobile again. Flicking out the last fragments of iron with its tongue, the dragon stalked towards Zelos' unmoving body. It could taste his blood on the night wind...
A strong hand pressed firmly against the Chosen's chest. "I have you," Regal said soothingly, kneeling at Zelos' side. "Grand Healer!" Light flared from Bryant's hand, and Zelos awoke with an expression that suggested he wished he hadn't. "Time to do the thing."
"Oh, at last," Zelos groaned. "Do I have to get up?"
"Don't move, just do it," said Regal. "And remember, no last spire."
"I'll do my best," Zelos murmured, closing his eyes. He looked exhausted enough that Regal almost thought he had fallen asleep, but then the earth-brown magic circles were emblazoned on the ground around him. Regal stood up, ready to protect Zelos as well as he could.
The dragon tried to gouge at them both with its front arm, but all the claws on that foot were cut back by more than a foot, and Regal repelled the attack with a single kick. It turned, ready to try the tail-smash again, but with a shout of "Bastion!" Regal and his guardian shield held their ground.
"Now," Zelos said quietly. Regal ran straight ahead, leapt over the dragon's low-slung head, and dropped like a meteorite.
"Eagle Fall!" His greave caught the beast between its horns and drove it to the ground.
"Grave!" Zelos' spell discharged, and stony spears burst up around the dragon's head like the hand of the earth itself. With all the control he could muster, Zelos suppressed the last spire that would have driven through the creature's head, leaving it alive. Regal vaulted off the scaled head and scrambled for his fresh-made secret weapon. "Quickly, maybe?" Zelos suggested, seeing that the dragon had already started cracking its prison.
Regal grabbed his waterskin and sprinted back, hurling it between the dragon's giant teeth. The dragon wrenched free of the Grave stones, but not before Regal planted a single light kick on its nose. In surprise, it reflexively licked its snout– but first swallowed. Smirking as the serpent rose to its feet, Regal turned back to face Zelos.
"Uh... hey, Regal?" said Zelos, watching apprehensively. "I don't think it worked."
"Don't worry. There are times when I might get a recipe wrong, but this isn't one of them. And certainly not a cool Fruit Cocktail," said Regal, turning again to watch. The dragon opened its mouth to roar again, but there was something strange about the former furnace-glow of its throat. That light faded to purple, then a shining blue, and at last faded entirely.
"As the Dark Chef gave you fire and fury," Regal told the dragon in a strong, clear voice, "so may I clear those things away. You are not our foe and we are not your prey. Leave this place. Go back to where you belong."
To Zelos' shock, even the fire in the dragon's eyes seemed to have faded. It looked about the harbour, and came to the decision that this was not the home it sought. Mountains and streams and mighty summer storms... Slowly, but with the unstoppable force of continents shifting, the dragon's wings flapped and it took to the starry sky.
"Well I'll be a half-elf's uncle," Zelos said, and started breathing again. "You're really fitting into this whole Wonder Chef role, aren't you?"
"Not for any longer than I have to," Regal said immediately. But he couldn't deny the feeling of absolute victory called up by the sight of the dragon vanishing peacefully into the darkness.
"Oh, man," said Zelos, looking out over the water. "Did you have to send it away so fast? I just know I'm not going to like what happens next."
Regal spun and saw the Lezareno cargo ship slicing through the water, already almost a mile from the docks. He growled; a fearsome sound from a duke of Tethe'alla. "They're getting away!"