A/N: Firstly, sorry about the wait, but here's a long chapter to make up for it. :)
I looked at the character-dragons reference sheet and took a look at the Prophets crew. In case you're wondering, Glyff, K-Oz and Schizzm are actually canon Prophets, according to the document. Glyff is the Porphet's mag-attack strategist, K-Oz is the Information Officer and Schizzm is the Dragon Rioting Expert. I also noticed that Propheci's real second-in-command is Anr'Key, and is a female. Because of that, I'm seriously wondering whether I should change Sycundys' name to Anr'Key, just to go by the document. Should I? Oh, and it might go without saying that the Prophets appear in this chapter. :P
This may have been done sooner if I didn't hold a certain ideal that my chapters must all be above 7,000 words or they're too short. Me like long chapters. :P Hope you all like.
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Booster, I merely fantasize about owning it.
The Gathering Gloom
The sun had just barely began to stroke Artha's face with its warm fingers, a relief against the sharp cold of the night and the sharp feeling of worry in the pit of his stomach. His wrists were chafing painfully from the tightly bound rope behind him as he stumbled forward. He picked his way carefully. He didn't relish plunging face first onto the ground. Again.
A hard pressure to his back sent him reeling suddenly forward. With a gasp he fell onto his stomach amidst bouts of laughter from his black clad captors. Artha groaned and lifted a now scraped cheek from the ground. From the corner of his eye he saw his current guard laughing along with the rest of the Dragon Eyes who had seen it and bothered to laugh, which many did not. Though that didn't make it any less irritating to Artha.
His guard laughed the hardest of all and grinned wickedly as he yanked on the rope, dragging Artha through the grass and dirt towards himself as he backed up to his dragon. "Come on, little dragon whelp. Get back up!"
Artha glared at the ground and did his best to stand. Though when he started to rise from his knees to his feet, his captor pulled on the rope again, and Artha toppled onto his back. He and several others burst into laughter again.
"What's going on here, soldier?"
Artha lifted his head and peered at the Dragon Eyes, several of whom shifted to let the dark-skinned man who had spoken through. He walked towards them with nothing less of absolute authority in this given situation, while his black dragon walking behind him gave off that very same air. The dragon lifted his head above everyone else and appraised Artha with a scrutinizing eye.
Artha turned his attention back to his guard, who had unsurprisingly gone quiet at the commanding tone of the superior. Artha remained on the ground, wishing himself invisible.
"Well?" The man who had spoken stopped right before Artha's guard and stood, hands on his hips, looking at the guard in a disapproving way, like a parent would look at a child. A very exasperated parent, Artha noted.
Artha's guard hung his head and mumbled inaudibly. The Commander, Artha decided to think of him, sighed and shook his head. "We cannot waste more time than we already have. We're behind schedule as it is. Dragging him through the dirt is not going to sped things up. Nor is it necessary."
The Commander turned from the guard with one last look to sear his message into his thick head, and then turned to the rest of the group. Artha glanced around quickly to make sure he wouldn't be thrown down again, and then stood slowly.
The rest of the Dragon Eyes, all five of them including their dragons, stood attentively. Artha's guard's short display of ashamedness at the treatment of his prisoner vanished when his commander's eyes left him. He scowled at Artha. Artha looked back to where Beau was standing forlornly, covered in black jamming gear, unable to mag and too weak to run. He had only just stopped roaring when the Commander intervened, and looked like he was ready to tear the guard's head from his shoulders. Delilah and Covert were close by, hands behind their backs just as Artha's were.
For the first time, Artha noticed a new arrival, one who hadn't been involved in the capture last night, bringing the total count of Dragon Eyes there to six. He and his dragon looked tired and dusty, but both were grinning as if they had just recently discovered the secret to eternal life.
"Scoot has returned," the Commander began, nodding at the new arrival. Scoot beamed at the others. Artha could only guess that Scoot was their scout or messenger of sorts. He lacked the burly and heavyset bodies of the other Dragon Eyes, and both his dragon and he were lean and thin, seemingly built for speed and stealth.
The Commander continued in his baritone voice, "Base camp and all other parties have finished their priorities and are coming to intercept us. Our ETA is fifteen minutes. Missions status is a success."
The Dragon Eyes cheered and thumped each other on the back if they were close enough. Artha caught Delilah's eye, and she looked back at him worriedly.
As the sun fully rose above the horizon, they set out again.
--
The group of five Dragon Eyes - Scoot had left them and gone on ahead - and three humans plus one free-willed dragon, who made sure the others were well aware of that fact, traveled the forest and reached the main group of Dragon Eyes far too quickly for the captives' liking.
The rest of the Dragon Eyes were waiting right in the forest, clearly avoiding the pastures and open areas and opting to stay hidden and unnoticed beneath the limbs of the great trees instead.
When they were quite far under the canopy of the huge trees, the Dragon Eyes dismounted at a signal from their leader. Artha breathed in the musty dampness of the closed in forest and looked back warily at his guard. His guard looked over his shoulder at Artha as soon as he dismounted and sneered. Then he walked away and disappeared into the trees. Needless to say, Artha was glad to watch him go.
Delilah crouched down near Covert, hands still tied behind her back. The Dragon Eyes didn't seem to want to take any sort of risks, even though their captives were completely surrounded, though Artha would have to go on trust with that; he couldn't see any other Dragon Eyes besides the few still left around him, guarding leisurely. But he could hear the others. All it took was a dragon snort off to the side, a cough from behind a cluster of trees and a group laugh not too far off for him to know that escape, especially with his hands tied up, was out of the question.
Artha looked around for his friends. Delilah and Covert seemed fine, but Beau…where was Beau? The trees blocked his view, and Beau was currently nowhere to be seen. But he did remember seeing him just as they walked into the thick trees. At least Beau was here…somewhere. "Beau?" Artha called out.
"Quiet you," hissed a purple-haired Dragon Eye just walking into the clearing. He viciously backhanded Artha across the face, sending him to the leaf-covered ground. Without a backward glance he strode off to the Commander.
Artha blinked his eyes, and slowly the treetops came back into focus. Gradually, when his ears stopped ringing, he heard a dragon roar repeatedly. It took him a while to recognize the desperate sound.
"Beau!"
"I said, shut up! And that dragon, quiet him too!" The newcomer barked to a nearby soldier, who rotated between nodding and saluting before the purple-haired Dragon Eye aimed a kick at his legs. Then the soldier scrambled to rush to Beau, who still hadn't quieted.
"Last thing we need here is noise," he grumbled to the Commander, who nodded absentmindedly, watching Artha carefully. Artha looked away from the brown gaze.
Delilah and Covert cautiously edged towards him, keeping a wary eye on the Commander and new, brutal Dragon Eye, both of whom were deep in conversation, with the newcomer doing most of the talking and the Commander nodding every now and then. When no reprimand of any sort presented itself, she soon found Covert and herself next to Artha.
All three of them sat on the ground, still damp from the morning dew. Artha couldn't care less at the moment whether the seat of his pants were dry or not. Beau's roars had stopped, which made him worry all the more. What were they doing to him?
Covert had clasped himself firmly to Delilah's left arm and looked at the two Dragon Eyes, eyes wide open and fearful. Delilah sighed and leaned closer to Artha so she could whisper.
"I…I'm sorry."
Artha glanced away from the cluster of trees where he had heard Beau roar last. "What?" he asked, taken off guard.
"Sssh."
Artha brought his voice level down to a whisper of his own. "Why do we need to whisper?"
"Well, why not?"
"Erm…"
"Artha," Delilah said even quieter. "We've been captured by the Dragon Eye empire. It's…it's not going to be…I don't know if we can escape them."
Artha stared at her as her voice broke down on her last words. She looked at the ground, ashamed of the tears forming in her eyes which she couldn't wipe away. "We'll…we'll find a way out," Artha stammered, a bit unnerved. It wasn't truly that bad, was it? "There's going to be a way ou-"
"Artha," she whispered through clenched teeth. "I highly doubt that. You've lived up in the mountains where you probably haven't heard any news, or what the Dragon Eyes did to their prisoners. And I'm - I'm sorry."
Artha swallowed. "This isn't your fault."
She shook her head, shutting her eyes tight to ward off tears. "I was your guide, I was supposed to…to bring you safely out of the Paynn Empire at least…but I couldn't…" She sniffed. "We're in so much trouble, Artha. You're traveling with a - a free dragon. And I'm traveling with you. We'll probably be questioned thoroughly. You don't know how rare a free dragon is down here, or anywhere. This is so…unusual. And they'll find out what we're doing and going. They'll find out."
"What will they do to us?" Artha asked. He remembered when he was caught by the Dragon Eyes before, when Beau was slowly being turned against him. The worst thing about that imprisonment was that he had been thirsty the whole time, and otherwise being stuck on that wall wasn't all that bad. When Delilah didn't answer him he knew that it would be much worse this time around.
What was he doing? He wasn't going against the Dragon Eye crew anymore, this was an empire. With deadly weapons and even deadlier hand with which to wield them. The wind suddenly seemed to blow a little colder.
--
"Stop stumbling! Magna Draconis!"
Artha tried his best to do as he was told, but staying upright while a certain, vehemently cursing, purple-haired Dragon Eye pushed him along on uneven ground was not easy in the least.
The two Dragon Eyes, the Commander and the purple-haired one, whom the Commander had called Protyst, pulled them to their feet after they had finished their apparent discussion. Artha smiled inwardly that the Commander was the one herding Delilah and Covert, and not Protyst. The Commander seemed reasonable; Protyst seemed plain cranky.
"I said move!"
Artha bit his lower lip to keep from retorting, which he was sure would not warrant a good response. Not with the retort he had in mind. He nearly giggled. For that he earned a smack in the back of the head.
A light drizzle began to fall as they walked through the forest, and the forest itself yielded no variance of any kind. The occasional muffled voice or dragon snort was the only indication that they were, in fact, surrounded.
Artha had to be thankful that the thick trees only allowed the bare minimum of the misty rain to drip onto their heads as they plodded on. At least they were doing him some good.
Protyst shoved Artha to the right. "To the tent, boy."
At first, Artha could see no tent of any sort, but one eventually showed itself from where it was strategically placed and hidden right behind a few thick trees. The tent looked like it had seen better days and perhaps too many at that. It was faded, and where it had been torn was patched up none too neatly. Artha stared at the tent. He had expected something better.
"Hold it," Protyst growled and yanked on the rope from behind Artha, pulling him to a stop right before the entrance. Glancing behind himself, Artha could see the Commander come to a halt behind Protyst while Delilah tried to comfort Covert, who looked like he was about to make a run for it any second. Too bad his hands were tied as well.
A lone Dragon Eye leaning against a nearby tree regarded them silently.
"Well?" Protyst demanded impatiently. "We don't have all day."
The Dragon Eye sighed and inclined his head to the entrance. "He's actually been waiting for you."
The Commander, Artha noted, gave Protyst a sharp look.
"Well, he wasn't when I came to get these three brats," Protyst said in a rush.
"Sure took your time then, didn't you?" the Dragon Eye said, taking advantage of Protyst's situation. The Commander simply watched them both.
"Back to your duty," Protyst sneered at the Dragon Eye and ducked into the tent, pulling Artha in after him. Artha heard the Commander's low voice as he talked to the Dragon Eye outside, but missed his exact words as his eyes took in the tent.
It was larger than it looked, the inside very drastic in comparison to the outside. Whereas the outside was weather-beaten, faded and hardly looked cared after, the inside looked relatively top notch. As top notch as nearly empty tents went, at any rate. It was clean, orderly and looked as if it was designed to be put up and taken down in mere seconds. The few objects that were inside was a polished desk, some maps and rather intimidating looking gears.
"Ah, Protyst, you had me worried. I thought you had gotten lost."
Behind the desk, seated on a stool with feet propped up, the green eyes of the man who had just spoken flickered up and rested on Protyst. He scowled at them while Protyst cleared his throat.
"My apologies, sir," Protyst remarked with evident sarcasm, his mood quickly changing from wary and nervous to outright spiteful. The man behind the desk scowled further and brushed a hand through his reddish hair irritably.
"Where are the others?" he demanded. "I thought I told you to bring all prisoners? And where is -"
At that moment, the Commander exchanged a few parting words with the Dragon Eye outside and entered the tent with Delilah and Covert in tow. The red-haired Dragon Eye leaned back in his chair, feet still comfortably resting on the desk, but now tapping against each other in a rhythm of victory. He smiled.
"My apologies for the wait," the Commander said, inclining his head slightly. The man behind the desk waved it off. Artha could sense Protyst seething beside him.
"No great matter," the man said confidently, and in turn gave his three prisoners a thorough look. Artha felt inclined to speak up, but Delilah beat him to it.
She glared at the man evenly. "Release us."
He gave a short laugh. "Why would I do that?"
"Someone will notice we're missing," she countered. The man continued to smile at them in his superior way. "If the Paynn Empire finds out that some Dragon Eye scouts are snooping around down here, you'll have the wraiths on your tail. More than you can handle," she added as an afterthought.
The man shook his head and chuckled. "Darling, the wraiths won't find us. The Paynn Empire won't find us. No one will find us."
"But-"
"And I highly doubt that anyone will be worried about you. But," he shrugged, "if on the odd chance that someone is worried that you haven't returned, no one will know we've captured you." He raised his eyebrows as he looked at her and shook his head. "No rescue for you."
The red-haired man shifted and lifted his feet from the desk to put them on the floor. He leaned forward in his chair and his voice grew deathly serious. "We've notice that you kids have quite a few supplies with you. Enough food for weeks. It doesn't look like you're expected back anytime soon. It's not at all hard to imagine that the wilderness will have gotten you. Perhaps you got careless and got lost. Or maybe a few hydrags crept up on you while you slept." He sighed and stared up at the patched roof. "So many possibilities. The fact is, you are our prisoners now. And no one will know."
Delilah pursed her lips in irritation and fear. They were in the Dragon Eye's clutches, the empire that was slowly moving from its comfortable place in the north to invade the rest of the world and start the war anew. And here, they were the only ones who knew that it was starting up again.
Artha spoke up. "But why did you capture us?"
Protyst jabbed Artha in the back with his finger. "Because it was too easy." He gave a tight, anarchic laugh. "And your dragon was far too good to pass up. Where did you get a dragon like that anyway?" He pulled Artha's collar and growled in his ear. "Don't tell me the Paynn Empire is getting cozy with the idea of freedom for dragons?"
"Dragons deserve to be free! Just as much as us!" Artha shot back. Protyst stepped back, surprised that Artha had retorted in the first place, never mind what he had said.
"Those big lizards?" he asked incredulously as if Artha had just said that dragons could talk, sing and dance too.
"Not lizards. Dragons! And they deserve to be treated with the same amount of respect that we…"
Protyst laughed and cut Artha off with a wave of his hand. "This is preposterous. Dragons as our equals. They're animals. How dare you bring down the human race to be on the same level as animals?"
Delilah scowled at him. "You sound like you're from the Paynn Empire." All traces of amusement were lifted from Protyst's face as he grimaced at her.
"Hardly," he responded curtly, evidently disliking the very notion.
"If you feel as though you're through bantering with the prisoners, perhaps you'll let the Major bring them back outside? I'd like to leave. Now." The man behind the desk gave Protyst a stern look.
Protyst sneered at Artha and Delilah. "It's a shame," he said to them, "to see such young minds so ignorant of the truth." Artha glowered at him while Delilah turned her attention back to the man. He spoke before she could.
"Very well then. More questions from you? Short and simple," the man said as he stood up, "you are our prisoners, as we've so thoroughly discussed, and you shall remain so. We are returning to our main force, and you will come with us. Upon our arrival, you will then be subjected to questioning. Questions about the empire, various things about the everyday life. Every piece of knowledge is useful."
"You didn't just catch us to tell you about that," Artha said, turning from Protyst.
"Of course not," the man chuckled and walked around his desk to stand in front of them. "That trifling information is merely icing on the draconee-yum bar cake. It's your dragon, really. We'd like to know where it came from." He leaned in closed and searched Artha's eyes, as if trying to find the information there. He paused and for a moment seemed uncertain. Artha stared back, confused and wary.
"You," he began, but stopped himself and looked to Delilah as well. "What are your names?"
Delilah spoke instantly. "Lyga. Lyga Speek." Delilah motioned to Covert. "He's Sham Speek."
"Brother?"
"Yes."
"He doesn't talk."
"He's mute."
"Oh."
When the man's eyes came to rest on Artha, he blurted out the first name that came to mind. "Bob."
The man's eyebrow arched. "Bob?"
"Yes. My name is Bob."
"Bob…"
"Bob Speek. I'm ah, her cousin." (1)
The man then narrowed his eyes. "Hmm."
"Is something wrong?" Delilah offered, and Artha was glad she spoke up. It was unnerving how the man looked through him, as if he knew something more.
"Oh, no," he blinked and stepped back, no longer looking suspicious and curious, but a bit spooked. "You just…seemed familiar…."
"I did?"
He nodded very slowly. "Yes. You…no. Forget it. Lieutenant, Major!"
His sudden bark brought Protyst and the Commander to immediate attention. Wait, not quite a Commander, he was a Major apparently, and Protyst was the Lieutenant. Though it didn't matter much to Artha, he preferred to think of the Major as Commander, at least until he learned his real name.
"Major, bring them outside and find some guards for them. Lieutenant, ready the gear." He looked to his prisoners and smiled, his eyes gleaming at them. "We'll be leaving shortly."
He strode to the tent flap and ducked outside while the Commander spread his one arm to the door, inviting them to go first. Artha followed Delilah and Covert, and glanced back to see Protyst bending down over a piece of gear. Before he was whisked out the door, Artha noticed that it was black, with a purplish glint. It instantly reminded him of black shadow draconium.
"Colonel," said a Dragon Eye, snapping to attention before the red-haired man, who had just mounted his dragon.
Artha breathed in the coolness of the forest, noticing how the sun was piercing through the leaves more now since it was higher in the sky. The Commander herded them to a clearing just behind the tent, ushering waiting Dragon Eyes to stand guard before he left without a backward glance. Looking around, Artha noticed that the Dragon Eyes who had before been hiding in the forest now gathered around, ready to leave. Artha looked for the man who had so calmly proclaimed their doom.
He was still on his dragon, giving various orders to the men around him. And Artha, to his surprise, found that he couldn't look away.
Though the man's dragon stood beneath a tree sheathed in shadows, Artha recognized her. He didn't know the dragon's name, but he had seen that dragon not too long ago; actually, about fifteen years. That dragon was a Dragon Eye dragon, and Artha had seen her many times while the Dragon Eyes had been stealing and thieving.
When the dragon turned her head and looked at him, her features and markings hardly seemed changed at all. Artha held his breath as he looked at the man again, this time recognizing him for who he really was. He had changed far more than his dragon, but Artha saw the similarities. No wonder he had looked as though he had recognized him in the tent. Artha fell to his knees suddenly and felt the forest around him tip and sway. He didn't hear Delilah crouching down beside him and ask what was wrong.
"I said hurry," the man shouted to the tent. "We must leave immediately."
Protyst stumbled out of the tent, which was at once taken down and stowed away. "The gear was…"
"I don't care. Just get it in working order now!"
"Yes, Colonel," Protyst sneered and walked to the middle of the small clearing. "Whatever you say, Rancydd."
Rancydd grunted and glared as Protyst set up the gear, then turned his dragon to inspect the rest of the Dragon Eyes. Then Artha fainted.
--
To say the very least, it was a frightening day to meet Word Paynn. He was in a bad mood.
If his citadel never had a chill air about it before, it was there today, settling over the building like a smothering blanket courtesy of the grim reaper himself. It seethed with anger and self-loathing. For it was on this very day, early in the morning, that Word Paynn had learned who it was he had sent his rebel catchers to follow, presumably to the concealed Gold Empire.
He knew the Dragon Booster had gotten free, and he knew his three loyal followers were following him - who else had a free dragon in his empire? - and he knew the Dragon Booster was headed to the Gold Empire, and he knew he had two companions as well. What he didn't know, up until that day, was what the Dragon Booster actually looked like.
It had been far too dangerous to have Edd and Kyd to get close enough to record a decent video of their prey without letting him catch on he was being followed. So Word had to do with their descriptions they had remembered so vividly from their little scrap with him near Dragon City.
"Black hair it was."
"Looked a little grey to me."
"Was probably the lighting, Kyd."
"Thought I saw some blue too. Could have been somewhat grey."
"His hair was black. His eyes were grey though."
"Looked green to me - "
"They were grey. And he wore a white jacket, and um, black pants."
"Dark purple sleeves. He had the most stupidest name in Draconis on the back of his jacket. Er, started with an O…wait, it was a…oh, scales. What did it start with?"
"Didn't see. Can't remember much else of what he looked like, that was about it."
"Wait! It was a D! It was backwards, that's why I couldn't tell, sir. The rest of the name escapes me. But maybe it wasn't even his name…"
"And Lord Paynn, he was rather short and not at all muscular. Had a young voice, all whiny like."
"I think it was the name of his gang. He's probably in some gang. Shall we go fish them out, sir?"
"Kyd, we have to follow this boy to the Gold Empire! And I highly doubt it was a gang."
"Well there was something on the back of his jacket. And he was actually pretty tall, Edd, as I remember it."
At that point, Word had massaged his temples and admitted defeat. He would just have to wait to find out what the hero looked like. Since Word highly doubted he would be traipsing across the Paynn Empire in full armor, Word fully expected to finally see him when Skin caught up to Edd and Kyd. She was someone he could be sure wouldn't get caught as she moved in for an image. She wasn't head of his special ops for nothing.
And, as he ordered her to do, an image came after weeks and weeks of waiting. At that point, he felt as though she needn't have hurried at all.
The stable-boy, just as he remembered him, and his stupid, blindingly colorful dragon, both being hurried through the forest by Dragon Eyes. Dragon Eyes! Things were happening too fast. First the appearance of the one who could stop everything he had worked for, (and it was Artha Penn to boot. Artha Penn! Alive!) and now the Dragon Eye Empire was coming down from the North, invading his land!
After Word obsessed over the many times he had fought against the Dragon booster - remembering the time he had wraith gear on Penn's dragon hoping to catch the black and gold dragon pushed him over the edge every time he thought about it (2) - he obsessed over the fact that the war was beginning anew.
Word grimaced and faced his screens, fingering his amulet unconsciously, anger flickering in his grey eyes. It would have started again, sooner or later, this war. The arrival of the Dragon Booster marked it.
--
Edd watched as Skin sat on her wraith, calmly listening to Word Paynn. How she faced his anger, Edd didn't know. She was too far away to be heard clearly, but he could hear the evident tone of Paynn's voice. He didn't dare to sneak closer for a listen, though.
Kyd and he were sitting on their own wraiths, waiting for Skin to return, perhaps with new orders.
"Still, I don't get it."
Edd sighed and looked at Kyd. "What? Oh, not that again -"
"Yes! I mean, why is this kid so important."
"Just shut up about it. We don't question orders, especially direct-from-Word-Paynn-himself orders!"
"But still -"
"Be quiet."
Kyd sighed and stared at the trees around them. The sun was just climbing to its highest point in the sky, and Edd was glad they were under the shade of some trees. The Dragon Eyes and their captives were further south. It was a few seconds later that Edd knew Kyd had a problem of shutting up when he opened his mouth again.
"But all this work for one lousy kid and his dragon?" he began. "I understand if we were to follow him to the Gold Empire, but kill him? Does he hold some important information? Cause I freeze my butt off every night following this little -"
"I don't know why he's so important, maybe Skin will tell us when she's finished."
"Yeah right. Generals like her don't give out information to rebel catchers like us."
"Kyd," Edd said, leaning toward his friend, "have you ever thought that after this, after the boy's dead, that we might become more than rebel catchers?" Kyd looked at him, interest fully captured.
"I mean," Edd continued. "What if we're given medals? Promotions?"
Kyd slowly stared off into a vision only he could see. "Promotions?" He smiled crookedly, then snapped back to reality. "But what if the Dragon Eyes kill him instead?"
Edd held up a finger. "This boy is definitely the top concern for Paynn if he sends Skin out here just to make sure he dies. And we don't even have to do it! As long as we're still with Skin when we receive confirmation that he's dead (after all, the Dragon Eyes aren't known for keeping useless prisoners alive) we'll be rewarded."
"You think this kid is that important?"
"Seems to be."
"She's coming back."
Edd and Kyd immediately fell silent as Skin walked her wraith over to them. She stopped before them, and they waited until she spoke in an irritated tone.
"Our mission is as before. We stay with them until Artha is dead."
"Who?" Kyd blurted out before Edd could say something less stupid.
"The boy," Skin snapped. "His name is Artha."
"And why does he need to die? He's important, isn't he?" Again Kyd spoke before Edd, who made do with glaring at him.
Skin glared at him as well, and all in all, Kyd was beginning to feel uncomfortable and as if he had said something wrong. "That's not for you to know," she said.
"But don't we -" he started again.
"Doesn't matter. We follow orders without questions!" Edd jumped in, quickly and rather fervently. "Artha will die, and we will be witness at his cold, dead body."
Kyd was slightly taken aback at Edd's outburst, while Skin only nodded at him, her earlier irritation gone. "That will please Lord Paynn, to hear that. Loyalty is rewarded." With a knowing glance, she led the way. Edd had the feeling she had known what Kyd and his earlier conversation had been.
Without further questions, they followed her as she led them closer to the Dragon Eyes, to either bear witness to Artha's death, or to finish his life themselves. Either way was a victory.
--
Artha was sure it had been only a few minutes later when he woke up. Delilah was staring down at him, relief flooding her face. "Heat got to you?" she asked.
"Yeah," Artha said absentmindedly.
Covert appeared in his vision as well and smiled. "Come on," Delilah said and helped him sit up. Covert brushed off the leaves and dirt from his back.
"How long was I…"
"Not long," Delilah answered. "The gear is nearly ready. They're starting it up now."
"What gear?" Artha looked around, and settled his eyes on the clearing, and the gear that lay there. It had been fully retracted and set up now. It looked like a long, wide board, almost like Lance's mag-board, Artha thought. But on the ends there were sharp, fantastical looking shapes that rose vertically for three feet. Most prominently on those shapes was a large, triangular-looking addition that pointed diagonally at each other.
"What is it?"
Deliah gave him a look that plainly said you're-an-idiot, but then she must have remembered he was from the mountains because her face softened and she answered. "Black shadow teleportation gear."
"Wha…"
Suddenly, Artha's fascination with the gear and morbid fear of what it actually did was cut short as a familiar roar filled the woods, causing the Dragon Eyes to yell at each other and scramble to their respective jobs.
"Beau!" Artha yelled and twisted around.
Beau continued to roar as he was led into the clearing by several black dragons, with Rancydd walking victoriously beside them on his own. Artha looked away with a sick feeling in his stomach and focused instead on Beau. He called to him again, and this time Beau heard.
He stopped his roars and turned his head Artha's way. His face lit up in a big grin and he gave Artha a familiar grunt that was just for him. "Beau!" Artha said, this time in relief.
He didn't notice Rancydd's tense look when he finally learned the dragon's name.
"Hey…hey you! Stop that!" Artha yelled at the Dragon Eyes surrounding Beau who were checking the black jamming gear on him, to make sure that none were loose. Beau growled at them and attempted to use his mag-energy, but nothing happened. He gave Artha a low rumble of defeat, indicating that he was without his energy.
As Artha continued to look at Beau, Delilah nudged him and stood up. "Come on," said the Commander who had walked up to them.
"What are they doing to my dragon?" Artha asked harshly.
"Don't worry," the Commander said, which Artha found hard to do. "He's coming along with us."
"What do they have on him?" Artha demanded to know, never taking his eyes off Beau as he stood up.
The Commander gave him a confused look until Delilah explained. "He's - he's not from around here."
The Commander nodded, as if things like this happened to him every day, but for all Artha knew, they probably did. "Black jamming gear. It stops him from using his energy. It doesn't hurt him."
Artha glared at the jamming gear, hating it. Clearly a Word Paynn invention. Clearly made from the black shadow draconium. Draconium he had let Moordryd get away with so long ago…
"Come on, stand over here," the Commander guided them over to a spot closer to the other black shadow draconium gear. Artha eyed it warily.
All the light in the world couldn't have made it look beautiful, it would only succeed in making it look more sinister. It was a gear that bended space, built from the draconium that defied time. By rights, it shouldn't exist.
"Right. Now," Rancydd said as he moved his dragon to the teleportation gear. Artha tried to ignore him, feeling sick again. Rancydd's voice had become the symbol of what had happened to his brother, friends and father. Changed, both external and internal as well. Artha wondered how different they would be, when he found them again. That is, if he did mange to find them, and if they weren't dead. Artha felt sicker. "Start it up, Protyst."
"I've been waiting to," Lieutenant Colonel Protyst gave a slight mock bow and bent down to the base of the gear. Rancydd scowled at him, then addressed his troops.
"We'll be converging four hours east of the main Dragon Eye encampment on the border of the Purple Empire. When we arrive, I expect you all to fall back into your designated groups and squadrons. You three," Rancydd pointed at a few Dragon Eyes, who looked startled to be suddenly pointed at, "will be appointed guards over the prisoners until further orders." As Artha looked at them, he was dismayed to find that one of their guards was no other than the guard from before. His guard looked at him, and then grinned back.
Artha could feel Delilah tense and go rigid beside him. "What's wrong?" he whispered.
She shot him a quick glare. "We're being taken to one of their main camps! What makes you think we could escape from that? And what if the…Shadow Booster is there as well?"
Artha wished she would stop making him more nervous than he already was.
A soft, purple glow came from the teleportation gear, so slowly it took Artha a while to realize what was happening. The two metal prongs that stuck out at a diagonal angle acted as guides for a bright, purple light. As the light engulfed the prongs and shot from the ends, they met in mid air above the main base of the gear, a good five feet above Artha's head. From where the light hovered to down to the base of the gear, the space changed. No longer was Artha looking at the trees that made up that particular edge of the clearing and the leaf covered ground, but now he was looking at evergreen trees, the ground littered with their needles while a green mist seemed to hang in the warm air. Artha realized it was a door, a door to another place on the planet and a door that led them ever closer to the other Dragon Eyes.
While Artha and Beau's mouths were agape in astonishment, everyone else was indifferent.
The only empire that had initially used the teleportation gears was the Paynn Empire, who, after all, manufactured them. There were only a limited number of them in existence, since black shadow draconium was so rare to come by. Only three were in the known world, and one had been stolen from the Paynn Empire during a vicious battle. The Black Empire reigned victorious on that and used their newfound plunder to its full advantage. Most Dragon Eyes had seen it before, so they couldn't understand why Artha and Beau continued to stare at it like it was a three-eyed newt that had just granted them three wishes.
Delilah and Covert gazed at it as well, but not to Artha and Beau's extent, which Delilah was beginning to find a little embarrassing. She poked Artha in the side with her elbow; however, he continued to stare.
As the Dragon Eyes passed through, and after they had dragged a struggling Beau through as well, it was time for the other captives.
The Commander walked through just ahead of them, and as Artha stepped up to the teleportation gear, he heard a low humming coming from it. He stretched his hand out gingerly to where the 'portal' was. He expected a sensation of some kind. Stepping from one place to another miles upon miles away has to have some sort of feeling. Right?
Apparently not. As he stepped through, he felt nothing. It was just like taking any old step. Artha felt rather cheated and disappointed, but he did feel the difference in the weather. It was warmer here, mustier, and unlike the other forest in the Paynn Empire, there were no birds singing at all. The entire forest was silent.
His guard stepped through behind him, with the rope that bound Artha's hands tightly clasped in his own. Artha thought that if he tried to trip him again, he would just kick him back.
By the time the last of the Dragon Eyes had passed through the 'portal', Artha, Delilah and Covert were already well out of sight of the gear. The thick evergreens blocked most of Artha's view. This forest was by far more closed in than the one in the Paynn Empire. He heard the low hum of the gear shut off as it was dismantled.
Delilah gave him a sidelong look. Artha swallowed; he knew what was coming. If it was nearly impossible to escape from the Dragon Eyes now, how much more harder would it be when they reached the main group? Artha glared at the back of the Dragon Eye in front of him, focusing his attention on Beau's barely heard growls.
They had to break free soon. It would be near impossible once they reached the main encampment, completely surrounded by Dragon Eyes and then some. Artha just wished he had an idea. His guard coughed behind him. Artha just wished they weren't completely surrounded right now.
--
The temple was full of moaning that day, for the first time in years. It was the moaning of the wounded and for some, the dying. The stink of flesh wounds hung in the air, and all the dragons and humans around had hope that it would be a few years yet until they had to smell it again. Unfortunately, it had happened that day.
"This is dreadful," Sycundys commented dryly.
"It is," said an orange dragon next to her. "After all the years, it has to start up again. The killing…"
"No," she said sharply, her human rider's tone evidently annoyed and displeased. "Not that. It was bound to happen soon. I mean how slowly we're dealing with this. How badly we were…beaten in that battle. We've become too soft. I should talk to Propheci about this. It must be rectified. More training hours must be put into effect."
"Of course."
The hall of the temple was filled with the injured from the recent battle where they were being tended to by their human prisoners as the officers of the Prophets looked on, occasionally barking commands and commenting on how slow and poorly handled everything was. Sycundys walked up and down the hall, watching them all with a critical gaze.
Tryaust lay on his side, slightly leaning against the cold, brown stone of the temple hall wall. Jyme was next to him, sewing up a gash on his left hind leg while Tryaust forced him to do it, just like a puppet. No matter how many times he was forced himself to do it, Tryaust would never find why the other Prophets found no fault with it. Tryaust practically lived for the days when he would be put on patrol, and if it was solitary, he would grant Jyme freedom, and then they would talk like normal beings should, aloud and unafraid. But until then, mind reading between his rider - his prisoner - would have to do.
Tryaust suddenly flinched as the needle Jyme was using accidentally punctured him too hard.
Sorry, came the immediate apology from his rider.
About what? Didn't feel a thing.
Tryaust knew Jyme would be grinning, but his expressionless face bore no hint whatsoever. His face remained stoic beneath the helmet. Tryaust sighed angrily. Why was he still with the Prophets? Oh, right. Because the Gold Empire needed a spy. And because Jyme had agreed to it as well. Brave human.
The sound of sudden, running dragons filled the hall. At least five came rushing down the length of the cavern, running between the rows of injured dragons and riders who were carefully laying at the sides of the hall.
Is he back?
Yes, Tryaust answered Jyme, who couldn't turn his head to see. Allowing him to move more than he had to was looked down upon by the Prophets. He could get in trouble if anyone noticed the smallest gesture of kindness. Tryaust wondered how stiff Jyme's neck must be, having to sit still for hours and only move when necessary.
So while he guided Jyme to continue working, he watched as the five orange dragons, which included the newly arrived Propheci himself, come to a screeching halt at the far end of the cavern, to where Sycundys had over the course of the hour meandered off to.
We should get closer.
Tryaust snorted, irritated that they had to stop and convene out of earshot. You're right. I can't hear a thing they're saying.
Well let's go then, came Jyme's ever gung-ho attitude and tone. Tryaust had to marvel at how he managed to keep that up, even though he was quite literally a prisoner for most of his life. I'm done with your leg, you should be able to walk on it without doing further damage.
Tryaust magged his impassive rider on an orange mag-stream, settling him down in the saddle with far more care than any normal Prophet would dream of giving. He winced as he got to his feet. He could feel Jyme's impatience to get closer to Propheci, and tried to go faster, and succeeded in putting far more weight on his leg than he otherwise would have liked to.
Careful, Jyme chided, don't make me sew that up again.
Ugh, Tryaust replied and gritted his teeth against the pain. He limped down the hall, painfully aware of how slow he was going. They just had to stop at the far end, didn't they?
Eventually, limping down the hall turned to something that could barely be called a walk as Tryaust's injured leg dragged along the floor as he put only the most minimal amount of weight on it. Several other orange dragons had left already or were in the process of leaving, some limping like Tryaust. The air was heavy with the smell of blood and sweat of the rest of the dragons who were too hurt to leave the temporary hospital this hall had turned into. The battle had been fierce and a total surprise, so the entire company of Prophets were momentarily forced into this abandoned outpost of theirs. Tryaust noticed that some dragons were sans their rider, and even one had gone so far as to bring her rider's dead body along with him. Even though riders were not to be considered their equals or to be shown kindness, lest they be accused of fraternizing with the enemies, most of these riders had once been someone special to the orange dragons. For most, that was too long ago to remember and too long ago to bother caring about, and for the rest, their riders were faceless humans caught in the middle of some night during a human raid. Hardly worth their consideration.
Tryaust took one last look at the dead rider in the saddle, just beginning to slip from his death perch. The orange dragon beneath quickly magged him back onto the saddle, allowing Tryaust to notice the gaping hole in the neck that had ended his life. He recognized the orange dragon; she was a delicate thing, and like Tryaust, her rider had once been an important part of her life, but during the battles and up to now had remained as indifferent to him as the rest of the Prophets were to their riders. It just goes to show, Tryaust reflected, that you never appreciated something until it was gone.
Then he heard Propheci's aggravated voice as he talked to the rest of his officers in the corner. Tryaust slowed down and pretended his leg pained him too much to walk any faster, angling towards them as he did so.
"…unstable. Who was heading that?" Propheci purred to himself in thoughtfulness, then after a moment's consideration turned to a dragon next to him. "I believe it was you."
The Prophet officer to Propheci's left spoke up. "I called the retreat early. We didn't see their backup until too late. Had we stayed I would've lost more dragons than I did."
Propheci grimaced. "Perhaps that was for the best. Retaliation when the advantage is clearly…in the hands of our enemies is a futile and foolish move." The other Prophets sneered at the word 'hands.' Humans.
"However," he continued, "regrouping as we did should not have taken nearly so long. If indeed the years of War have started again, we Prophets must once again triumph over the pitiful humans. There are many dragons that must be freed."
"Yes, death to the Paynn Empire," another Prophet standing with Propheci remarked in a monotone voice, almost sounding bored.
"We do not rest until all dragons have been freed and shown the true way! K-Oz, I want any dragons that are well enough to leave with you and scout our southern border. Any reports of any sightings of the Black Empire, or any empire, are to be reported immediately."
K-Oz nodded both his own head and his human's head. "Yes, Propheci."
"And Glyff," Propheci said without further acknowledgment to K-Oz. "I want to go over with you our new battle plans." The Mag-attack strategist straightened and nodded as well.
"Sycundys, organize our faithful troops here and then meet us in the Meeting Chamber. The rest of you have your duties." Propheci stalked off with Glyff following, leaving the other officers. Tryaust leaned against a column and pretended to be too hurt to walk any further for the moment. Following Propheci was too risky. As was staying where he was, but that couldn't be helped.
Besides, Jyme piped up in their connection, we need to stay close to K-Oz. If he's going to take a team with him and scout out our borders, we have to be in that group. We'll have a better chance of relaying information to the others, and we'll be on top of what the other empires are doing.
Tryaust sighed, knowing full well that if any leader in any empire so much as sneezed near the Prophet's borders, K-Oz would know. He wasn't the Information Officer for nothing. Tryaust was just surprised that Propheci was sending him to scout out only their borders and to get an idea of their general movements instead of full out spying on the other empires and discovering what they were eating for breakfast.
Tryaust began to stretch his leg, then immediately wished he hadn't tried. The gash sent bolts of pain through his leg. He wondered whether he would get chosen for that group; they might say he was too injured to join.
Tryaust's attention was jerked back to the remaining officers, who hadn't moved. Sycundys had just snorted and paced around angrily.
One of the Prophets, Schizzm, Tryaust recognized, seemed slightly perturbed. She swung her head to look at K-Oz in the eye. "Well?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Well what?"
Her tail flicked irritably. "Who are you choosing for your group? Sounds like Propheci wants you to leave immediately."
Tryaust and Jyme both groaned inwardly. If they were leaving soon it would be difficult for them to get chosen. Tryaust's leg would get no time to heal.
K-Oz stared at Schizzm with an expression on both his and his human's face that suggested extreme thinking, which looked rather comical. At length he replied, "…do you want to come?"
Schizzm merely grunted in mounting annoyance while K-Oz put on a look of ignorant stupidity. As the Information Officer, nothing got by him, but it was always his motto to act as air-headed as possible so others underestimated him. When they fell for it, it did wonders when he needed to accomplish something; no one ever suspected him.
"Nooo," she replied sarcastically. Tryaust couldn't tell whether she was playing along or just fed up with K-Oz. It was clear to him that K-Oz particularly liked riling up Schizzm.
K-Oz's human began to speak, but was cut short by Sycundys. "Will you just pick your group? And I suggest that Schizzm stays here. We'll need all the officers possible, in case the Black Empire tries to attack again."
Schizzm and K-Oz looked at each other; K-Oz with a look of defeated fun and Schizzm with a look of a child who had just been denied a draconee-yum bar.
"And no arguing about that," Sycundys hissed and walked away. "Or if the Shadow Booster doesn't rip out your hearts in the next battle, I shall do it myself!"
"Mmm," K-Oz rumbled as she walked away down the hall between the wounded Prophets and out of ear shot. "I think she got turned down by Propheci again."
Schizzm rolled her eyes at K-Oz when he chuckled. "I dearly hope you meet up with the Shadow Booster when you're out scouting."
K-Oz began to feign a look of hurt, but then decided against it and grinned instead. "Won't happen. The Shadow Booster is to the north. He's visiting a well sized camp he has near the Purple Empire. He's probably busy sending out scouting parties from it. And I can assure you, the Purple Empire doesn't even know he's there." He gave her a wink. "In case Propheci decides to ask for your advice."
Schizzm looked at him. "How do you…" She trailed off and shook her head. How did K-Oz find anything out? He certainly wouldn't tell her. "Are you sure they don't know?"
He leered confidently. "Trust me. They don't know the camp is there. In fact, I'm pretty sure they don't even know the war is starting again. And I highly doubt they'll hear of our little skirmish here."
Schizzm held her head up high and huffed. "Of course that will certainly be of use in my tactics. Have you told Propheci yet?"
"Naturally. I've got my dragons in their empire. Why do you think I'm just heading on a scouting mission to the south? Everything else is nearly…what?" he suddenly snapped, his attention focused on something behind Schizzm. "Keep moving, soldier."
Tryaust jumped slightly and nodded slowly when K-Oz locked his glare onto him. He moved away slowly, overemphasizing his limp as an excuse as to why he hadn't been moving. K-Oz's eyes on his retreating back sent shivers racing through his spine. K-Oz was one of the single most dangerous Prophets to him. As the Information Officer, it was his job to gather intelligence on the surrounding empires, send out his spies and sniff out the spies within the Prophets themselves. It was vitally important for Tryaust to remain as inconspicuous as possible around him, but not too inconspicuous as to warrant suspicion. He walked a razor thin edge.
You should lie down now, Jyme said concernedly.
But we need to find a way to contact the others. I don't know if they know about the Black Empire yet.
If you don't strain yourself now, you'll have more chance of being picked for K-Oz's group.
Tryaust sighed. If he were to get in that group, they would have a great chance to contact the Gold Empire (being far from any Prophet base with the less chance of their signal from being picked up) and receive any information and instructions from them. It had been too long since he had last spoken to them. But since K-Oz would be right close by…they would have to chance it. The Gold Empire needed to know the Black Empire was moving again. They needed to be prepared for what would come.
The Shadow Booster and his Black Empire had rushed in fiercely to do battle with the unawares Prophets. And like in the past Years of War, he was still as violent and bloodthirsty as before, but now, perhaps more so. Tryaust grimaced. All of the empires had had time to recuperate during the Years of Rest, which included replenishing their supplies, training and recruiting new troops and so many other things. With all said and done, the new Years of War would be far more devastating than before.
--
His blue clad hand tightened around the handles while he looked out across the landscape. His dragon surveyed it as well, as intently as his rider. The current hot air blew relentlessly, but neither dragon nor rider moved. Behind them, their troop shifted restlessly. Though they were well-trained and their determination for their missions and their loyalty to him was unwavering, standing around outside in the hot sun for hours would put anyone in a sour mood. But none would move from their positions until they received the order.
The blue rider turned and looked back at them, and his glove came up in a motion that sent the troop racing ahead, charging behind their leader. He watched as the landscape quickly become a blur through his white visor as they rushed towards their goal. For they were rebels, in a way, and they responded to no one but their blue armored leader.
And the Energy Booster responded to no one but himself.
A/N: (1) - For those who might care about the fake names I stuck Delilah, Covert and Artha with: Lyga is from the Old English lyge for "a lie." I changed it slightly and added it with Speek, because they were speaking lies. And I called Covert, Sham, because that's what they were giving them. It was all a sham. I called Artha, Bob, because I didn't feeling like thinking something else up. :P And a heads up for all who might care, most of the names I add in here have a meaning behind them, not all, but most do. For some characters, the meaning is important. :P Figure it out, if you so desire.
(2) - Here Word's thinking about capturing Beau in the episode, The Stand, just in case I wasn't too clear about that reference. ;)