A/N: Twice as long as the last chapter, hope you enjoy! And a big thank you to all that reviewed! Constructive criticism is always welcome! :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Booster.
The Dragon Booster
Artha held his breath and did his best not to simply break down in front of the entire meeting. Everyone had gone silent as his father slowly stood up, his eyes locked onto Artha's body, his mouth open and closing wordlessly.
"Artha?" he spoke hesitantly, clearly unsure. Artha was taken aback. Why didn't his dad look happy to see him? Connor began to walk around the table towards him with his steps wobbly and uncertain, using the chairs for support. People switched between looking worriedly at Connor to looking pointedly and suspiciously at Artha. "You…you're dead." He paused halfway down the round table.
Artha heard someone whisper Magna Draconis from the other side of the room, but paid it no more attention than that. "I'm not dead, dad," he said forcefully in an attempt to convince Connor with his words.
"Then you got out…," Connor asked slowly. Artha nodded in response, but Connor looked more confused than ever. "There's…no way…it's not possible. I checked. I looked at all the possibilities. Every single one! Don't come into here and pretend to be my son!"
"But Dad!"
"I've lost all my sons…don't…don't trick me. Not again!"
"Trick you?" Artha said incredulously. "Who's tricked you? It's me, Artha Penn. Your son."
Connor glared at him. "This won't work twice. Go back and tell Word Paynn that if he's out of new ideas and turned to using old ones, that just maybe he's not…"
"I'm not tricking you!" Artha yelled. "What are you talking about?"
Connor's hand gripped the back of the chair he was currently next too and turned his head away from Artha. Artha felt as though he had just been punched in the gut. His dad wouldn't even look at him. He looked around the silent room as everyone watched him in hostility. Was nothing easy anymore?
The Grip of the Dragon placed his heavy hand on Artha's shoulder, and though he wasn't as big as some, he was still more than strong enough to deal with Artha. He held Artha in place, and with just a little more pressure made it clear that Artha wasn't going anywhere unless he wanted him too. He spoke in a gravelly voice, "a number of years ago Word Paynn created a fake Dragon Booster. We were led to believe that he had escaped from the Shadow Track, and in force we marched against what we thought was to be a small amount of Word's army, blocking his way out of the track itself. Unfortunately for us, what we thought was a message from one of our spies was-"
"-a trap," Connor finished without raising his eyes. When he did, he glared at Artha. "So tell me why you're here."
Artha licked his lips as he felt the hand on his shoulder grip it tightly. "Wait…so everyone here knows Artha Penn is the Dragon Booster?"
"About a year ago word got around, so yes," said a woman. "And it would appear that Word now knows too."
"Unless Word didn't send you," Connor said, eyes still narrowed in suspicion. "Since when people knew about the Dragon Booster and who he really was, we were still in hiding. None of our scouts or our spies have had any mysterious disappearances or even mentioned seeing any from the Paynn Empire so close to here. No one else has left this town besides them, so it would seem that we have a spy, willingly giving out information right under our noses. As you can imagine," Connor said in a low voice, "security here has been of high importance, and for anyone, not just Word, to find out where we are…and then to send…you! It's unthinkable."
A man just barely seemed to reign in his anger as he said, "the last thing we need is a breach in our security!" He slammed his fist onto the table, causing everything on it to jump and for the objects nearest to him, to tip over. "Whoever sent you then…," he trailed off and shook his head.
"No one sent me!" Artha yelled and finally reached the tipping point. He had enough. "No one…ugh, fine! You don't believe me? I'm the Dragon Booster! I'm not a trick, I'm not a phony! I have walked for weeks! I have had to walk in the rain, sleep in the rain, I've been more dirty than I've ever been before, I've been more hungry than I've ever been before, I've been chased by wraiths and what's more, I've discovered that I'm fifteen years in the future! Do you know what that's like! I'll take a guess and say you don't!"
He took a deep breath, his glare demanding that no one dare interrupt him. "And then the Black Empire catches me! That was just the icing on the cake! I nearly lose Beau, I get this…gash on my face, I get a…a thing, stabbed through my foot, I watched Rancydd die, I inadvertently kill someone, and then when I come here, no one believes me! And my dad, who barely looks like my dad anymore, thinks I'm some kind of trick!"
Artha stopped, panting as he regained his breath and glared at the entire council; even the dragons looked shocked. He turned to his dad and pointed his finger. "I. Am. Your. Son. Beau is outside right now, and I'm in here. Whatever…Dragon Booster Word managed to fake before, well…I guess that I'll just have to show you that I am the real deal. What would it take for me to convince you?"
Connor, momentarily speechless by the outburst, quickly answered in a steady voice with an angry frown on his face, "become the Dragon Booster."
"Okay then," Artha replied simply and looked at the man behind himself until he stepped back. He held the amulet in his hand for everyone to see. The dragons craned their necks to look at it, but the humans merely glanced it over. He held it up, letting them have their fill of it. He looked back to his father, who seemed to be struggling with himself. Artha softened his face for him, the anger he had draining away until there was none left. He wasn't angry at his dad, quite the opposite. He held his father's eyes for a moment. Connor glanced again to the amulet, suspicion lifting slowly, fear of trickery and the pain of loss kept it from lifting entirely. Artha nodded his head once to Connor, and as he placed the amulet in his gauntlet, was more than glad to see the look of belief on his father's face even before the transformation begun. And that meant a lot to Artha.
And to his surprise, it didn't hurt him as much as he thought it might. When the transformation was complete he found that his foot felt sturdier in the armor. He looked up, strengthened by the armor. To his surprise, Connor's face was unreadable.
Artha looked around the room and watched as surprised faces either slipped into wonder or distrust and anger. Nearly all the dragons, he noted, inclined their heads towards him. He took a deep breath, reveling in the familiarity of the armor before he took the amulet out of the gauntlet. He wanted to meet his dad face to face.
He looked up at his father's grin, and suddenly felt a large weight lift off his shoulders. "It's really you!" Connor broke out into a quick stride and reached Artha's side in seconds, enveloping him in a huge hug.
Artha hugged him back, throwing his arms around his father and burying his face in his shoulder, nodding his head furiously. Connor took his face in his hands, looking over every single detail. "I don't believe it…Artha." Again he hugged him close, threatening to break his ribs, and then abruptly held him at arm's length. "What happened to your face?"
"Long story, dad," Artha said, brushing away a tear and taking deep breaths. "Just…just took a while to get here."
"I can't believe you found us. I can't believe you got out…actually got out. After-after all this time…" Connor squeezed Artha's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye and said in a dead serious voice, a voice that Artha couldn't help but believe his every word. "Don't worry now."
"Okay," Artha said and sniffed, far too relieved and happy to be able to say anything else.
"You're safe here." Connor gave him one last squeeze and seemed to remember the rest of the council. Artha wiped his eyes and looked around as well, noticing that several people had gotten up from their chairs and were currently standing nearby, with nothing but astonishment on their faces.
Connor looked them all over, the joy of finding his son alive after believing he was dead for so many years shining on his face. "I suppose," he began with a deep breath, emotion nearly taking away his ability to speak, "that I should introduce you to my son. I thought…we all thought he was dead. I thought he died a long time ago." For a moment Artha thought his dad would begin crying, but was reassured when Connor glanced at him with nothing but joy on his face. "My son, Artha Penn."
As expected, the room filled with noise as everyone talked to each other, amplified by the dragons own talking. Artha stood a little straighter, despite the fact that his face and foot were beginning to sting. He supposed he had found out how long the painkillers were going to last for him. His father, now facing the room with Artha by his side and his left arm draped over his shoulders, holding him close, nodded and smiled towards the several people who had come close in curiosity, and for two, utter bewilderment.
"That can't be," one woman wearing red spoke up. "Connor...are you sure?"
"You know him as well as I," Connor said, ignoring Artha's questioning look. "It's him."
The woman paused for a moment, thinking in the growing noise of the council, most of which by now were demanding explanations. "But he's dead. And I'm not saying that I don't want him to be alive, but…it's been fifteen years."
"It's not too long," Artha spoke up, getting a little ticked that they were speaking as though he wasn't there, and worse, as if he was dead. "Fifteen years isn't that long." He was sure that everyone else, including him, heard the lie in his voice. Fifteen years was far too long.
The woman fell silent, needlessly brushing some of her short, blue hair out of her face as she studied Artha. She placed a hand over her mouth as realization sunk in. "Magna Draconis, Artha. You…you idiot."
Artha blinked in shock. "What?"
She brushed away the tears that were beginning to fall, then looked at him, her smile just beginning to emerge. "That's the second time you got yourself stuck in the Shadow Track, stable-boy."
Artha felt his jaw drop. "Kitt?"
She grinned and laughed at his face. "You better believe it, 'cause I'm not sure I'm quite believing this." She gave him a squeezing hug and Artha found himself returning the hug, at the moment feeling like he was hugging a stranger. "Welcome back, hero-boy," she whispered. "You're like a dream come true." And then Artha found himself hating Kitt because she was making him cry again, but when she pulled away he found that he couldn't help but be glad.
She may be older, but she was still Kitt, and she was still a piece of his old reality, slowly making him realize that this one wasn't quite as bad as he had thought. Her hair was the same length as it had been all those years ago, though she had lost the ponytail at the back. Her red clothes and the Dragon Flame emblem on her shoulder signified her allegiance with the Red Empire, though Artha had no doubt she was more loyal to Connor and the Gold Empire.
He looked beside her to the tall man standing there, dimly noticing that he was possibly the only one wearing armor. His short brown hair and five o'clock shadow was so familiar, but the strong build was not. Artha also saw, without surprise, that his armor was mainly green. "Parmon."
Parm's face broke out into a huge grin and then to Artha's huge surprised nearly crushed him in his own hug. Since when had Parm gotten that strong? "Artha! I can't believe it! By all accounts you should be dead. I have no idea how you survived in there! For nearly fifteen years! It's amazing!" He pulled away to emphasize just how long it had been with his hand. "How?"
"Uh…what?" Artha stammered, not ready for Parm's sudden question.
"Well, never mind about that now. Magna Draconis, Artha. It's…it's…so…."
Kitt smirked at him. "I see you've finally broken the professor." Parm spared her a short look, and Artha said the very next thing that was on his mind.
"Parm, you stink."
"What? Oh, well, I suppose I do. It's not that bad."
"Are you sure, Parm? I've had to sit beside him for the past few hours," Kitt explained to Artha, holding her nose.
Artha smiled and looked Parm over closely. His armor was scratched, dirty and covered in mud, and Artha was sure there were a few dents. Parm's face didn't look much better, although it was clear he'd tried to rub the dirt off…with his sleeve.
"Parm, can't you take a bath?" he joked, half serious. Parm really was dirty.
"Really, I had no time. I came here not four hours ago, and they required my presence here immediately. I had assumed we'd have retired by now, but I had no idea the discussions were still this intense."
Artha frowned. "Come from? Where'd you come from? Were you…fighting?"
Before Parm could answer, Artha felt Connor's hand on his shoulder, guiding him to face the rest of the room.
"Connor, don't be a fool!" a man called out. "The Dragon Booster is dead."
"Now now. I know that…his survival is more than surprising, to all of us. Believe me, I…I just....." Connor sighed, lowering his head slightly before raising it again. "Because of what happened before, I am wary of Word and his traps, whatever they might be. But I know my son, and nothing can mimic the actual transformation to the Dragon Booster. You said Beau was outside?" Connor asked, turning to Artha.
"Yeah, he's…around."
"Good." Connor turned to one of the guards at the door. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to have him here too." The guard saluted and strode off, the other finding it finally time to close the meeting doors. Artha recognized them as the ones guarding the lobby before. The last guard gave him a slow, incredulous look before the doors finally closed.
One man that had been quite vocal through all this stood up and came near Connor, his gaze flickering from Connor to Artha repeatedly. "Connor, I trust your judgment, and especially in this case. You've raised the Dragon Booster and trained him. I don't know how he survived in the Shadow Track for all this time, but you above all others know what you're talking about. I do believe you when you say this is the Dragon Booster. The actual Dragon Booster." Nearly a head taller than Connor, he had the misfortune of looking arrogant, as he seemed to permanently look down his rather large nose at him.
Connor gave him a small, thankful smile that slowly disappeared as the man continued. "Dragon Booster he may be, but he's just a boy. "
"What?" Artha interjected.
Turning his head to him, the man's respectful eyes turned hard. "Yes. Oh, I know of your exploits in Dragon City, and I assure you that praise is long overdue for all your efforts and victories in stopping the war…for a time. I also know how much faith Connor has in history and the Dragon of Legend, and if Word's plan hadn't worked and if this situation had never occurred, no doubt you would be a strong presence in our army, trained as we have and as ready as we are at this moment. But fate decided not to grant you that opportunity. Some here believe that had you not been trapped, Word Paynn would never have gone ahead with his plan."
"I know," Artha said, clenching his teeth. "I let all you guys down because I got careless in the track."
He felt a hand rest lightly on his shoulder and looked to see that it belonged to Kitt. "You didn't let anyone down, sta…Artha. You didn't know."
"Yeah, I didn't know," he echoed her. "Just please don't try to make it sound like something…something small. This isn't just me making a mistake and losing a race. I mean, I didn't even wait for you Kitt. I just rushed in…and look what happened. Fifteen years isn't something…small," he finished softly, at that moment unable to think of any words that could aptly describe the size of his blunder.
Kitt squeezed his shoulder and he felt comforted that he could rely on her; not that he ever doubted it, not even for a second.
"Connor," the man spoke up again, slight annoyance building in his voice, "I suggest that we place him under the Fire and Power Boosters to train for the time being. When he is of suitable skill and if he is willing, we can begin to place him in th-"
"Wait, boosters? They're here? Are they? Where…." Artha stopped as quickly as he had started as a surge of excitement passed through him. He even glanced around the room, hoping they would come forward. He had completely forgotten about them.
Artha completely missed the man's growing irritation as he inclined his head Artha's left, to where he found spreading grins on his friend's faces. He heard Connor chuckle beside him. Artha's mouth hung open as realization sank in.
Kitt stood with folded arms, her face just brimming with pride. She raised one hand and waved it around slightly. "Fire."
"Power." Parm grinned sheepishly, knowing that as Artha remembered him, he wasn't exactly what one would think of when they thought of the Power Booster.
Now it was Artha's turn to stare in shock. "You guys? Not that it doesn't work, but….Magna Draconis. I…this is so totally drac!" He did a little fist pump.
"Sure is Stable-boy," Kitt smiled. "Not exactly an easy job, but I'm sure you understand."
"I…yeah," Artha rubbed the back of his neck. "Guess I do."
"Ridiculous," came a scoffing voice.
Artha turned back to the man, face set in surprise. "Now Thruust," Connor began, "that's unfair."
"I find it quite fair. Connor, while you know I respect you, this is one thing that I expect us to disagree upon."
Connor nodded, sighing. "I understand Thruust."
"What?" Artha asked.
Thruust looked at him dismissively, continuing before Connor could even open his mouth. "No doubt Connor intends to have you at our front lines, or at the very least in a vital part of our operations. After all, you are the Dragon Booster and he believes you to be the end to this war."
Artha blinked his eyes in surprise. "And you don't."
"Of course; it's preposterous to think that a boy like you can save us, or that one single booster can do what three cannot."
Artha jabbed a finger at his own chest. "I'm not just a booster, I'm the Dragon Booster. And I've got Beau."
"Such cockiness is the downfall of many."
"It's true! And I'm not being cocky! The original Dragon Booster did it and I can too."
"The original Dragon Booster," Thruust said with absolute reverence, which turned to near disgust as he finished, "was not sixteen."
Artha gaped at him. "I…You…what does that have to do with anything? I'm still the Dragon Booster! You said yourself I did a good job dealing with Word Paynn!"
"Indeed," Thruust said in a monotone voice. " The original Dragon Booster saved the world, but don't let that make you assume that you must, or can, do the same. After all, what kind of Dragon Booster," he paused for a moment as the doors opened, revealing the guards, Delilah, Covert, Staind and last but not least, Beau, "lets the world burn as you have?"
"I…I didn't mean too!" Artha was left with his mouth nearly hanging open at the turn of events. Everyone had believed in the Dragon Booster before…well, nearly everyone. Even Word Paynn himself believed that the Dragon Booster was the one real threat.
Kitt was silently fuming while Parm had a hand on her shoulder, holding her back. Nevertheless, his own face gave sign of his own growing anger. Kitt stepped forward and he tightened his grip slightly. She glared at him, but he gave her a look she had grown to know very well. He was asking her to trust him. Parm knew that Kitt was furious for the way Thruust was belittling Artha, but Artha had to fight his own battles, especially in a time such as this when the Dragon Booster needed to be strong. Although, if Thruust continued this for much longer with Artha unable to finds the words to defend himself with, Parm would be more than happy to let Kitt go. That is, Parm thought as he looked over to Connor, if he didn't do anything first.
Thruust, meanwhile, continued on, spurred forward by Artha's silence that he took as defeat. With one last glance at Beau, he turned to the rest of the council, who had by now stopped their own conversations to listen intently, nearly all nodding their heads in agreement, save for a very select few; most of which who were standing up front with Artha. "And look how many died because you didn't mean to. You were right before, this isn't a small mistake. Hundreds of thousands have died because you didn't know what you were doing. The original Dragon Booster stopped a war that had already happened, beyond his control, but you've practically started this yourself. That armor was never meant for you, it was meant solely for him. You've just gained a hand-me-down, and those don't always fit."
His last words burned in Artha's ears as his mouth open and closed silently. His eyes found all the agreement in the room, and he suddenly found himself exhausted once more. They didn't even believe him, didn't believe that he could do it. He was the Dragon Booster, not the original, but the Dragon Booster still.
"That's enough, Thruust," Connor said sternly. "While I'm open for all opinions, don't forget that he is still my son, and I hope that in the future you watch your tone." Emphasizing the last words, it was clear that he had enough.
Thruust finally tore his eyes from Artha. "Forgive me, I got carried away." He bowed his head, but Artha's mouth was set in a firm line, clear dislike in his body language and glare.
"I've seen their power," Connor said, "Artha and Beau's. It was strong back then, and even though Word has gotten stronger and this whole world has gotten a lot more dangerous, training will provide them with enough strength again to save us."
"Yes, but," responded Thruust, "I stand by my original opinion. Artha is a great help, as the other boosters are; but nothing more. I do not think that he is capable of stopping the war and returning peace to the world. I think it is only in great folly that we will rest all our hopes solely on him."
Thruust turned to the rest of the room, looking them all over, finding where those who were in favour of his idea sat. Artha looked at the room in growing despair. "Who agrees?"
Nearly all the hands were raised, and those that weren't were half lifted, unable to decide. When some dragons snorted their approval, Artha realized that he hadn't really been very convincing.
Parm stepped forward, looking directly at Thruust and ignoring Artha completely. With his mouth set in a slight grimace, he announced, "I agree with Thruust."
While the crowd murmured approval and Thruust looked pleased with himself while still trying to retain his professional composure, Artha felt his mouth drop open. This couldn't be…not his best friend. He gritted his teeth together. How could Parm do this to him? He stared hard at Parm's profile, but not once did he look over. His eyes were set hard on Thruust, who took to looking back with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.
"Your approval is noted, Power Booster," Thruust said.
"Parm?" Connor questioned with incredulity clear in his voice, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
"Parm?" Artha echoed his father, though it was so quiet only the dragons near to him heard it.
Parm gave a knowing look to Connor. "Thruust is right. Placing all our hopes on Artha right now is-"
"Stupid, I get it." Artha clenched his jaw, glaring hard at Parm, who had stiffened when Artha interrupted him.
Parm kept his head upright and spared Artha only the slightest of glances. "Correct."
Artha looked over at Connor, who understood right away.
"I think it's about time we adjourned for the night. It's been a long day and our patience is wearing thin. I believe we've covered enough ground and that a good night's sleep will do us good. I also urge you all to take in our…new development. I'll see you all here tomorrow morning, usual time."
Thruust bowed his head. "I look forward to tomorrow." Connor nodded. Thruust turned to the recent traitor, whom Artha couldn't stand to look at right now. "Parmon, while I know you must be exhausted right now, I am eager to hear of your trip. Whenever you find time, I will be most appreciative if we could sit together and talk. Perhaps tomorrow, if events are not as tiresome as they may appear to be right now."
Artha heard Parm respond in his deep, unfamiliar voice. "I look forward to that, Thuust."
Traitor.
Artha turned suddenly and made to storm out of the room when he remembered that it wouldn't exactly be the mature thing to do; that, and his foot prevented any rash movements. He looked up and saw that Beau was currently giving the death glare to Thruust, and a most displeased glare to everyone else. Startled gasps caused Artha to turn around as the room went entirely silent.
All the dragons had bowed, and the humans had stood up from their seats in amazement, quiet whispers among them. Thruust was watching the entire thing in rigid surprise. Artha smiled. No matter what Thruust or anyone said about Artha and Beau, there was no denying that Beau was the black and gold Dragon of Legend. As Beau continued to hold his head high and regal, the dragons slowly stood up, softly talking to Beau. Thruust huffed at the dragons as everyone began to filter out of the room, eyeing Beau in curiosity, amazement or doubt, and there was certainly little amazement.
A movement from Beau and Artha found him lowering his head so Kitt could stoke it. Connor patted Beau's head as well, happiness and relief radiating from both. Artha couldn't help but grin. He looked again to the council, but locked eyes with the brown ones of Parm. He quickly looked away, remembering why he was so angry, the bitter feeling of betrayal welling fresh inside of him.
He turned and made it a few steps before he noticed Delilah and Covert, both of whom watched him with unreadable expressions. Too fed up to deal with anymore at that moment, he brushed past them and limped into the lobby, resting heavily on his makeshift crutch.
He angrily went a few paces before a hand grabbed his arm. "Follow me, Artha," came Connor's reassuring voice.
Artha stared absently out the window, seeing nothing but darkness and the various pricks of light from other buildings. He sighed and looked to the wooden floor, feeling extremely tired.
Connor had led them to a suite in an adjacent building, with more than enough room. It was even accommodating for dragons, allowing Beau to have his own room. Artha thought it was the greatest thing ever, and by the looks and sounds of it, Beau agreed. But at the moment Artha was resting in a large chair in the common room of the suite, his foot propped up on a table as Beau stretched out on the floor near the fire. Connor and Kitt had given up trying to talk with him on their way down, and Artha ignored their quiet conversations as he rode on Beau. When they reached the room, Artha had immediately sat in the chair, and as of yet hadn't said a word. Kitt had taken Delilah and Covert to their own place, wherever they were staying, Artha didn't quite know. He was thankful for that. He wasn't up to talking to them right now.
Artha couldn't help but notice that the feeling of being out of place in an alien world was so much stronger now that he was among friends. What used to be so familiar about them had changed so much, the stark contrast of which was overwhelming. Nonetheless, he was glad he finally had found them. He had to deal with it, he realized. They would help him readjust to this new life, however different it was. But he couldn't help but wish there was some way to make things normal again.
He looked up as Connor set some food near him. Artha ignored it, feeling anything but hungry at that moment. "Dad?"
"Yes, Artha?" Connor sat in a nearby seat, leaning forward with hands clasped, eager to answer whatever questions his son had.
Artha paused, and then asked the one question that had been burning in his mind ever since the meeting ended. "What," he began in a fearful voice, "what did you mean when you lost two sons? Where's Lance?" He looked into his father's eyes, searching for an answer that didn't end in death. His heart thudded in his chest, thinking he already knew what Connor would say.
He was taken aback when his dad smiled, albeit a sad smile. "It wasn't meant in the way you think, Artha. As far as I know Lance is…Lance is alright. I hope." His smile faded as worry took over. Artha breathed a sigh of relief.
"Why isn't he here?"
Connor didn't reply at first. When he spoke it was slowly and with difficulty. "We…we had a fight. We had different opinions concerning…"
"…concerning?" Artha prodded when Connor stopped.
"Concerning you, Artha."
"Me?"
"Yes. Lance, he…," Connor trailed off and sighed. "It was my fault, really."
As they both fell silent, Connor sighed, contemplating on the hurtful past while Artha processed the information, feeling pretty unhappy that he wasn't able to meet Lance, but feeling very happy that Lance was, reportedly, alright.
Artha looked up at his dad, at that moment just realizing how much this war had taken its toll on him, Kitt, Lance and even Parm. How hard must it have been to fight all these years? Artha wished he had been there for his dad, so he wouldn't have had to face his son's death, or to face what he thought was his son alive, only to see it as the trick it was. The guilt Artha felt grew greater, knowing that his mistake caused his family and friends so much pain and suffering. His father had so much on his shoulders now, Lance was lost, in a sense, and Kitt, though still with the same fire as she had when she was younger, felt different. He knew they all changed, he was a fool to think they wouldn't.
Perhaps the war had changed Parmon the most. It took his best friend away from him.
Glancing at Beau, Artha saw him lay his head on his paws, listening intently with a blank stare, no doubt feeling the same amount of guilt, if not more. "I'm sorry, dad."
"Don't be," Connor said with a hard voice. "That was an unforeseeable event. Lance and I acted in different ways, and both of us were not so considerate of each other's opinions. After you were first trapped and Word had fully captured Dragon City, we travelled to White Cliffs to regroup. It was too dangerous to stay there and too dangerous to stay in the wilderness, or anything less than thick, solid walls. At that time we were refugees; you must understand, Word had millions under his control and killed those who weren't. Whoever made it out from the city were only the lucky ones. We had no force strong enough to outright oppose Word, or even to try to free you."
It sounded exactly as Delilah had told him. Having the absolute carnage of that day told to him again made him think that he would feel guilty for the rest of his life. To hear it from his father's own mouth completely shattered all hope that it was all somehow wrong.
Connor continued, his eyes searching Artha for forgiveness, "I, we figured you would be alright for a week or so until we gathered enough strength to spring you free. But…how exactly did you survive?" The last question seemed to surprise him as well, as if he had just remembered to ask it.
"Got caught like the last time," Artha explained, looking over to Beau who nodded slowly. "It was stupid of us, to think that the track was safe. We should have been more careful. We should have known Moordryd was setting up a trap."
"But the Shadow Track, I thought that was broken." Connor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
"Not completely. I guess there was some active black shadow draconium left to trap us, and to let Moordryd get away with some."
"Yes, when we heard Word had recovered that draconium from the track, I had assumed it was a fluke. Everyone had thought it was impossible for the track to regenerate itself." Connor looked up brightly into Artha's eyes. "But thank goodness it did. You don't know how relieved I am to hear that. I thought you both had died…slowly."
As Connor's voice trailed off from the unthinkable prospect, Artha gave him a smile. "Well we didn't. We managed to blast our way out." By the way Connor's eyebrows rose in clear indication for Artha to continue, he did, recounting the journey he undertook in order to get to where he was right now.
At the end Connor shook his head slowly in disbelief. "That is one very lucky journey, Artha. You are lucky to have found Delilah and Covert."
"Yeah," Artha agreed. "They're good friends. I wouldn't have gotten far without them."
They both fell silent and Artha took a drink from the glass sitting next to his as of yet untouched supper. Knowing that it was going to go cold soon, he glanced over to Beau, who had already read his mind and was grinning impatiently. "Here you go, boy," Artha said, placing it on the floor. As Beau finished the dinner in one bite, Connor scratched his head, memories once again at the forefront of his mind.
Connor broke the silence with a pained voice. "Lance was right after all." He looked up to Artha. "He always believed you could somehow come back. We couldn't get enough support to free you right away. Lance was ready to go do that himself, all alone. He would've too."
"You did try though," Artha replied, in what even he was unsure of if it was a statement or a question.
"We could only attempt stealth missions to try to free you." He paused and stared at the floor. "None were successful and everyone involved died. After our final try failed…it was over four months after you had gotten captured." Connor looked up with tear filled eyes. "I thought you were dead."
Artha tried to swallow past the growing lump in this throat. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.
"Lance was rightly angry, but he didn't hate me for it. Years later Word created the fake Dragon Booster. Our spies had sent us confidential videos of Beau trapped in the rubble and the Dragon Booster attempting to free him. They even talked to them. I thought it was a miracle. Everyone was anxious to help you. We had a sizeable force by that time and marched to what we thought would be a surprise battle. We were wrong."
"I saw that when I got out of the Shadow Track," Artha said.
Connor nodded. "Lance had never stopped trying to get me to try to free you. Everything I tried failed or would have failed horribly. Word was guarding that track far too well. Lance suggested reckless missions. I tried telling him otherwise, that I couldn't stand it if he died as well. He believed you were still alive. But I didn't. I thought it was impossible. Artha, you must understand…."
"I know," Artha said, trying to placate his father, but at the same time feeling a sting of abandonment. "I mean, I don't want any more to die because of me."
"If I had known you were still alive in there…"
"It wouldn't have done anything," Artha said bitterly. "I would still have been trapped."
Connor appeared to accept Artha's explanation and continued, "Lance left after the fake Dragon Booster. He had found the energy gauntlet the year before, and-"
"Wait," Artha interrupted, head shooting up from itshis relaxed position. "Lance? A booster?"
Connor smiled. "It seems everyone around you is a booster, doesn't it?"
Artha paused to let the news sink in. Not his little brother? Really? Then he smiled. Of course Lance would be the Energy Booster. He knew his brother had more than enough in him. Pride swelled up inside him.
"So…he just left because he was angry at you?"
"Yes. He hated me, still hates me. He blames me for not doing enough. I let him down and I let you down. He blames me for killing you."
"That's not fair!" Artha cried with indignation. "You couldn't do anything! If you could have you would have."
"Sometimes," Connor said as he stroked Beau's head, "sometimes I wonder if I didn't take enough risks."
Artha fumed. "This is all Word's fault. Word and Moordryd's. Next time I see Moordryd, he is going to get the biggest, worst, most painful scale-"
"Artha, Moordryd's dead."
For a moment, the flow of time stopped and Artha could only stare at his dad. "He's what?" he said in astonishment when he found his voice again. Moordryd was by no means a friend of his, and though Artha would count him as an enemy, he would never have wished that fate upon him.
"He died when Word first took control of Dragon City; the day he trapped you in the track."
Artha gaped at his dad, who had said it without the slightest shade of regret or respect for the dead. Instead, he looked almost pleased.
Artha blinked, the initial shock quickly dying down. "That's-"
"-war," Connor finished for him. "That's life Artha. Life as it is now. Word started it, and although I don't think Moordryd deserved that, it's about time Word realized that there are consequences for his actions."
Artha put his head in his hands. "How many others are dead? Phistus? Chute? Pyrrah? Cain?"He would have gone on; listing every single person he knew if Connor had not stopped him with a heavy sigh.
"It's hard to say," he said simply, letting the cold truth sink in for his son. Artha bit his lower lip in a sudden bout of dread.
Beau, having listened to all this in an eerily silent way, suddenly raised his head and presently, Artha and Connor heard the door handles twist as Kitt entered, immediately seeking them out and giving Artha and Beau a reassuring smile. With resentment Artha noticed Parm right behind her. To his surprise, Parm wasn't the only one with her. Coming behind Parm was a young boy with brown hair.
Connor immediately brightened up from the dismal residue the conversation had left and gave a genuine smile. "Hey there, Hohp."
"Hi Connor!" the boy said enthusiastically, eyeing Artha as he plopped himself down on a couch, expecting Artha or Beau to do something amazing right before his eyes. He looked to be about the same age as Covert and Lance, when he was younger.
"Kitt, Parm," Connor greeted them.
"Kitt," Artha said, pointedly ignoring Parm, but then decided it was worth it to send him a disappointed glare.
"Hey guys," Kitt greeted and sat down among them as Parm remained standing, still in his armor. "Hey, Beau." Beau grinned and stretched his chin out, allowing her to stroke it.
From his peripheral vision, Artha noticed Hohp's interest shift from him to Beau. He leaned forward and asked excitedly, "is that the Legend Dragon? Excuuuse me," he said, correcting himself slightly sarcastically when Kitt arched an eyebrow at him, "the Dragon of Legend."
Kitt sighed. "Hohp, why don't you get something to eat? You've been complaining about that enough on the way down here. You can see Beau later."
"I can see him right now though," he responded with a grin, eyes set on Beau's face.
"Don't mistake that for a suggestion. Get going."
Hohp opened his mouth to protest, but relented when a smile born from a new thought spread across his face. "Fine," he agreed. He got up from his position on the couch and nonchalantly walked to the kitchen.
"And keep out of the candy."
"Scales!"
Artha watched the door to the kitchen where Hohp had gone through. "Who was that?"
"Hohp is my son, Artha," Kitt explained to him in a calm voice.
Artha had to replay that sentence in his mind more than three times before it began to make sense. "You…he's your son? That…that is just…."
"I know, it has to be weird for you," Kitt tried to sound understanding, but succeeding only in a disappointed tone.
Artha closed his mouth and took a moment to watch Kitt. "No," he decided, surprising her. She looked at him, a smile forming on her face. He smiled back, not seeing a strange person that had the old habits of someone he once knew, but seeing his friend. And this time, he told himself, he would always see her that way. "I'm happy for you," he said.
Kitt's smile graced her whole face this time. "Thank you."
Parm stepped forward. "And I…uh, owe you an apology."
Resentment turned Artha's smile into a disapproving frown. "I'll say." Parm sighed.
"Artha, firstly, I do not, under any circumstances, have the same views of you and Beau as Thruust does, despite what I said earlier."
Artha's absolute mortification at first thinking that his best friend had betrayed him began to lift. Slighty.
"Sure sounded convincing back there," he said skeptically.
"The council here is divided enough as it is. With the Years of War dawning upon us again, along with our current situation and that of both our allies and enemies, we cannot allow more dissuasion between ourselves." Artha only watched and listened as Parm spoke, silenced by the mere fact that the Parmon he used to know was not as up front or as bold as he was speaking right now. "I'm afraid to inform you, but the majority of the council does not believe in the Dragon Booster. They do not think that you and Beau can replicate what the original did. They are not ready for all our carefully made plans to get washed down the drain because you come back; which is a remarkable feat, by the way. Completely unexpected, why, I bet that even Word has not the slightest inkling of what has transpired! "
Artha made to agree with Parm, but a memory forced the words to stick in his throat. Unbidden and almost forgotten, it rushed to the forefront. At least two wraiths had seen him just as he left the Shadow Track, when he was still reeling and confused from the entire ordeal. Artha swallowed. Only Word, if he saw the footage, would recognize him, he was sure. And the chance that Word would see that? He was in charge of a large empire, and that wraith was likely just on patrol. Artha told himself to relax, but a small voice deep within him kept repeating that he had screwed up again and revealed himself to Word prematurely. He mentally shook his head and focused on what Parm was saying. Apparently he had missed a bit.
"…could organize it! Such a-." Parm was cut short as Kitt elbowed him in the stomach. Having not been hurt in the slightest due to the raiment he still wore, he nonetheless felt it and promptly shut up.
"So you stab me in the back just so the council can pay nice with each other?" Artha asked sharply, regretting the words even as he said them.
"I didn't mean to…Magna Draconis, Artha. I was just thinking ahead. I…I never meant to hurt you. As boosters, Kitt and I are trusted by the council. We can't both jump onto the bandwagon and pour praises at your feet before you do anything. Sorry, Connor," Parm added, glancing aside to him.
"But you aren't just going to put me in front of everything just yet, right?" Artha looked to his father.
"Of course not," Connor reassured him. "I intend you to acquire enough skill so that I feel safe putting you out there. But in the long run you will be a huge part of the army."
"And that is where the council disagrees with Connor," Parm said. "They don't want to scrap all their plans for the future in expectation of what you will do Artha. I agreed with Thruust so that they wouldn't be up in arms about it. You are the Dragon Booster, and you will eventually show everyone why. When that day comes, they'll have reason to follow you and they'll do it willingly. Until that day, my proposition was to keep them in conformity until then. Our status in this war is precarious enough as it is. Artha…I hope you understand."
"Yeah," Artha muttered. "I understand that I don't have a clue what's going on." He looked up to Parm's face. "Also that…it's cool. Between us, I mean. I just…really thought at first that you were…against me. And with everything going on now, I can't lose anymore friends, especially my best friend."
Parm broke into a huge smile. "You won't have to worry about that, Artha."
"I won't anymore," Artha said. Still curious about Parm's armor, he questioned him. "Where exactly were you?"
"Oh," Parm said, seemingly surprised at the question. He looked over at Connor. "Does he, uh…"
"He knows," Connor said.
"What now?" Artha nearly groaned.
Connor looked over at him. "Lance. Parm went to go talk to him."
"Really?" Artha asked. "What did he say?"
Parm rested a hand on the back of the chair Kitt was sitting in. Neither Kitt nor Connor looked very anxious, so Artha could only assume Parm had already told them while at the council. Parm glanced down at the floor. "It took a while, a long while to actually find him and then catch up with him." He fingered a particularly deep groove on his armor that was encompassed by the telltale scorch marks of a high voltage mag blast. He grinned up at Artha. "Ran into a bit of resistance on the way as well."
"Lance is alright though?"
Parm nodded. "As good as he can be. He's still of the mind to stop the war by doing whatever he sees fit. The main purpose of my mission was just to convince him to come back and participate in the talks, but he declined. By the sounds of it he was ready to spring wide open a Dragon Eye camp, and judging by the news from Staind, that's just what he did."
"Wait…," Artha said, piecing it together. "That attack on the camp…that was Lance? He was that close to me?" Parm nodded. "Wow," Artha breathed as he rested against the back of his chair, "Lance can kick butt."
"You bet he can, Artha," Kitt smirked. "I wonder what a little friendly fight between the two of you would result in?"
"I guess I'm not such a shoe in to win anymore, am I?" Artha asked knowing the answer. Connor chuckled. "I can't wait to see him."
"Well," Kitt began, "we'll see. Maybe you can bring Lance over to our side finally."
"I'll definitely do that. You can count on it," Artha said with determination. He noticed Connor's sad smile and swore that he would do it no matter how long it took.
He decided to steer the conversation away from Lance for the time being so he wouldn't have to see that expression on his father any longer than he had to. "So," he began with unbridled curiosity, "has the Shadow Booster been, you know, unmasked?"
Kitt shook her head. "He's the only booster that keeps his identity secret."
"No one's seen him," Parm informed him. "He rarely removes his armor."
Kitt looked sidelong at him. "You forget that I have. If he does take the amulet out of his gauntlet," Kitt explained, "his head is covered by a hood. No one knows who he really is. He works really hard to keep that a secret."
"Why?" Artha asked. "It's not like we're in Dragon City anymore."
"Fear of the unknown is a powerful tool," Connor said. "There are enough rumors circulating around about who he is."
"Oh," Parm interjected excitedly. "The best one is where he's actually Armeggaddon, or wait, where he's undead. Or Connor's other long lost son. Or a hybrid between dragon and human. Or…."
"We get it, professor," Kitt laughed. Artha smiled, the cheerful atmosphere reminding him of home.
"MOM!" Hohp yelled from the kitchen and prompting everyone to pay attention to him, "there's nothing good to eat in here!"
Kitt rolled her eyes and Artha chuckled. "How old is he?" he asked her.
"He's eleven," Kitt said. "A bit of a handful, but he's a great kid." She then yelled back to the kitchen. "I'm sure there's something there."
"I said nothing good! Come and make me something, oh wait, can I have this?"
"Hohp, I can't see what you're holding."
A hand holding a box appeared in the doorway. It was something that Artha hadn't seen or heard of before, but it was clearly candy; the chocolate covered kind.
"I said no candy."
A pause from the kitchen, and then, "hey Dad, can I have some?"
Artha jumped slightly when Parm cleared his throat. "Maybe just one."
Kitt turned her head slowly to glare at him as a 'yes!' filtered in from the kitchen. Parm put up his hands apologetically. "What? He's growing, he needs food."
"Did he just call you dad?" Artha asked incredulously. Kitt and Parm looked at him, and then at each other. Connor sat back in the chair with a grin on his face as Kitt took the liberty of answering Artha.
"Did I mention that my new name is Kitt Sean?"
Absentmindedly rubbing the bandages covering the cut on his face, Artha fervently wished that he could either scratch it, or that it would stop itching. He concluded that it was the single most annoying thing in the world right now. His foot didn't even bother him that much, and that made him limp everywhere.
He sighed and blinked against the bright midmorning light and rested his head against the wood of the building he was leaning against. With a proper crutch in his one hand, he watched as Beau played dragball with the other dragons. As Artha discovered, it was always fun to watch the dragons play a game just by themselves.
As one of Beau's teammates scored a goal, Beau proudly trotted back to his end of the playing area, head held high. When he passed Artha he winked, and as he raced off after the ball again the dragons raced after him. Interestingly enough, they were all females, and Artha wasn't quite sure if they were chasing the ball or the Dragon of Legend.
The crowd watching the game cheered loudly, the numbers split quite cleanly between both dragons and humans. Artha couldn't help but swell up with a feeling of long overdue pride and happiness when he saw events like these, constantly wishing that these kinds of things had happened back in Dragon City as well.
Watching as the opposing team managed to score a goal for themselves, Artha nearly couldn't believe that it had just been yesterday that he had awakened in this place. Like an impossibly perfect dream come true, he couldn't believe his luck, luck that was brought about by the almost sure disaster that had been their capture by the Dragon Eyes. The past night had been a blur, and by the time Connor suggested that it was time for them all to go to bed, Artha was already asleep in his chair. That morning he had woken up expecting to find himself sleeping on the ground, and if luck would have it, Delilah would be making breakfast. Instead there was a roof over his head and Beau making a mess in the living room area.
He looked down at the ground as the noise of the little city filled his ears. Another loud cheer rose, causing Artha to glance up. When he did, he noticed Delilah.
"Uhh…hi, Delila-"
"Don't hi Delilah me!" she said, stopping a few feet short from him. Her face looked furious as she glared at him.
"Yeah," Artha said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry."
"Sorry?" she said loudly, and Artha found himself glad that she wasn't outright yelling. "I spend weeks, no, months with you, risking my life with you, all that I had and you don't even have the decency to tell me who you really are? Even after we come here, I have to hear it from Staind?"
Artha narrowed his own eyes at her. "Well, think of it from my point of view. I knew nothing of what was going on, and I wasn't sure I could trust you! Do you really expect me to blab the biggest secret of the decade to some random person I met?"
She crossed her arms. "Some random person you met?"
"…you know what I mean. I didn't know you."
"At first. Artha, by the end I thought we were friends! Didn't I prove that I could be trusted?"
"Well…I guess…"
"I get not telling me when you met me, but later? This is a huge deal! I just found out that I helped the Dragon Booster get to the Gold Empire. I helped the Dragon Booster! The one guy Word Paynn feels some sort of…of dread from. And I helped him!"
Artha spoke hesitantly. "Isn't that a good thing?"
"Y…Yes. I suppose so," she said, as if realizing just what she had done. Then she leveled a glare at him again. "But you should've told me!"
"I-I know. It's just that coming here, fifteen years in my future, I was…I didn't think I could trust anyone. And I didn't want to make any more mistakes than I already had done, so I was being overly cautious. I figured once I was safe I c…hey, I did try to tell you who I was!" He immediately snapped as remembrance suddenly took hold of him.
Delilah looked confused until she too recalled what had happened yesterday. "…I thought you were…confused."
Artha sighed."I told you, you just didn't believe me."
"Yeah well," she began, looking to defend herself. "You didn't try to convince me either. No proof or anything. You couldn't have expected me to believe you without proof. It's…it was common knowledge that the Dragon Booster died, after all."
"If you can believe it," Artha huffed, "I wasn't exactly feeling well enough to power up right in front of you. I had just woken up."
"Yeah, I guess," Delilah muttered after a pause.
Artha sighed and looked to make amends. "I'm sorry I didn't…tell you before. I guess I could've before we got caught by the Dragon Eyes." He looked at her, imploring her to accept.
However, though she didn't look as though she thought Artha's apology was enough, she eventually nodded her head. "Fine."
"I really am sorry, Delilah. Even telling you could've gotten you into trouble."
"How noble of you to protect me," she responded dryly. Artha sighed and let his head fall onto the building behind him. "Not to be…rude to you or anything," she continued, peering closely at him, "it's just that…you really do think that you're going to save the world, don't you?"
"Of course I do. And I will." He turned his head to peer back at her. "I know getting myself caught in the track wasn't the best way to convince everyone that I can do everything the original Dragon Booster could. But I'll show you." He pushed himself off the wall, suddenly sick of everyone's lack of faith in him and limped away.
Delilah watched him go, face set in a confused expression. "But there's only one Dragon Booster," she called out after him. "I-I don't want you getting yourself into trouble because you're disillusioning yourself."
Artha forced himself to ignore her.
"What if you are just another booster, and nothing more?"
"It's not true," Artha said to Beau after the match in an airy stable. Beau watched him worriedly as he paced, for the moment ignoring the gifts lying by his side that his growing fan base had given him.
"I mean," Artha continued, throwing his hands into the air, "does no one believe the prophecies anymore?"
Beau cooed to him and made other noises in his throat. Artha stopped long enough to listen and pretend that he understood. He gave up and sighed.
"Imagine," he said, crossing his arms, "if I understood you." Beau grinned and nudged his hand. Artha's face softened. "You're right; Connor will teach me how to understand soon enough." He gave Beau a noogie on the head. "Although I suppose the first thing you'll do is ask me for some draconee-yum bars." He laughed as Beau acted affronted, then relented with a sheepish grin.
Artha abruptly stopped laughing as a horrendous thought came to him. "Wait. What if they don't make those anymore?" Beau's expression was that of absolute horror. They looked at each other, dread on their faces, and then broke down laughing.
Beau was the first to quit. He lifted his head to the opening, entire body alert. When Artha looked it was one of the last people he expected; Thruust.
"It's good to see our young heroes healthy and relaxed," he said, stepping in uninvited. At their unified glares, he continued, brushing imaginary dirt from his uniform. "I understand that last night I may have seemed…rude, to a degree. But I want to assure you that I mean no ill will."
"Really," Artha mused.
Thruust's hard, scrutinizing gaze swept over his entire body. "I have full loyalty to Connor and to the cause. I am glad that Connor had regained his son and I am sure you will be an important part to our survival, in due time. Understand then, that if something happens or an idea or a motion goes through that I am not pleased with or do not think is ultimately good for the empire, then I will fight against it. I do not want animosity between us, booster, as I think is the present case. First appearances are important, and I believe mine for you was not under the best circumstances." Thruust extended a hand out to Artha, which Artha eyed warily.
Thruust sighed after a moment and turned to Beau. "I hope that you can see it in my view. Though I do not regret the appearance of either of you, I do think that Connor would have placed far too much trust on you."
"But I'm the Dragon Booster," Artha said, determined to fight back better this time.
Thruust acknowledged his statement with a slight nod of his head. "And this is what they call the Dragon of Legend."
"But he is," Artha retorted. Beau held his head high. "You saw how all the dragons in the meeting saw that."
"No disrespect, dragon," Thruust said to Beau, "but it is not possible that they are fooled? Appearances can be deceiving, and to be honest, yours is particularly convincing."
Artha narrowed his eyes. "He is! He's the black and gold Dragon of Legend, and it's about time you realized that." Spurred forward by the growing look of surprise on Thruust's face, Artha continued, "and we'll both end this war."
"I'll be the first to admit I'm wrong when that happens, but not a second before. I think Connor is blinded by hope, and though he does what is in our best interests, I cannot let him make these kinds of decisions when he is obviously biased, and wrongly so."
"He just knows our history better, and what power Beau and I hold."
Thruust looked at him in what Artha could only describe as pity. Artha ground his teeth. "This war and that responsibility," Thruust said in a soft tone, "is far too great a burden to be placed on the shoulders of a boy."
"I can handle it," Artha said. "Whatever happens I can handle it."
"War is no little matter. Why, I'm certain you haven't seen a proper battle, a deadly battle. Every moment your life hangs in the balance, and that of your comrades, your…friends. And to top it all off the fate of the world. Why, I'll bet you've never even thought of seriously injuring someone."
When Artha spoke he found his voice detached and strangely unemotional. "I've killed already. I killed Protyst."
"And how does that feel?" Thruust inquired. "Can you do it again, and again, and again, all in the name of peace? Can you do it the next time, and not accidentally? You are not ready to be placed in a battle anytime soon, and you are not ready to handle the kind of pressure that Connor is placing on you. He's leading you astray, Artha. He thinks he's doing what is best, to be sure, but you cannot save the world. And I think that leaving you off the battle field until you realize that is the proper course of action."
Artha was quiet as his mouth hung open slightly, suddenly too drained to bother with continuing the argument. Eventually he settled on glaring as Beau snorted. Thruust straightened up fully and smoothed down the front of his uniform. "Good day to you both," he said, preparing to leave. "Artha…just remember what I said. I'm not your enemy; I'm only doing what's best for you."
It was nearly a week later and not including the meetings which he attended as a booster, Artha had not spoken to Thruust. His mind was on other matters, particularly his healing. He thought he was walking rather well. The bandages covering the long cut on his face had come off, and Artha thought he looked more dangerous. His new scar stretched from nearly the middle of his forehead, through his left eyebrow and ended just above his cheek. Every day when he looked in the mirror, his first thoughts surprisingly weren't how different he looked or even what he'd gone though to get it. His thoughts usually consisted of, 'Magna Draconis, I almost lost my eye!' But he was getting used to it.
Currently he was walking down the halls with Parm and Kitt as they headed to the meeting room. As they walked slowly for Artha's benefit, Parm was telling Artha all about the training he would be undergoing under him. It had been decided that both Parm and Kitt would both be Artha's instructors. Though Artha was glad they were the ones ultimately chosen, it was impossible not to feel a little odd that they were the ones training him for a change; particularly Parm, who was teaching him hand to hand combat and weapons, of all things. Kitt was teaching him the mag moves, and from what she had been telling him, she intended to move quickly and that he'd better keep up.
"…quick. Before they notice," Parm said. "Precision is important, brute strength alone is-"
"-not everything. I get it Parm," Artha sighed. "I'm glad you're going to be training me when my foot is better. Can we lay off the lectures till then, just a smidge?"
"Lectures?" Parm echoed. "Hardly. Why, this basic-"
"Maybe that's enough for now," Kitt agreed with Artha. He sent a thankful glance over to her.
Parm huffed. "I suppose. But getting a head start never hurts either."
"I know," Kitt said and squeezed his arm.
Then Artha gagged and looked away as they gazed lovingly at each other. Now that would take some getting used to.
As they finally reached the doors leading to the lobby before the meeting room, they slowed their pace as they discovered Connor anxiously milling about the doors with Thruust and several other council members. Artha and Kitt glanced over to Parm for answers, but he merely shrugged. The meeting, unlike the countless ones before, was expected to be quick and simple. Something had obviously happened.
When Connor turned his head to see them approaching, Artha knew something was wrong. He beckoned with his arm. "You're the last to arrive," he said and led the way through the doors. The council members followed, but Thruust lingered behind long enough to send Artha a venomous glare. Artha was stumped. What had he done now? Thruust had been polite enough to him at past meetings.
"Sounds big," Kitt said.
Parm groaned. "Great."
They entered the room and sat down at their seats, all attention immediately drawn to the huge monitor at the end of the room. Connor stood beside it and looked them all over. He waited until everyone, human and dragon alike, were quiet.
He held a remote, ready to activate the screen. "I know some of you have already heard the news, particularly those responsible for security. Our scouts have not reported in for two days now. At first we believed this to be because of a communications error, but that is no longer the case."
Artha felt Parm and Kitt tense and he leaned forward, elbows on the table, heart beating loudly in his ears.
"This message," Connor continued in a grave voice, "disproves that explanation…and also greatly lessens the chance for their return."
A wave of muttering rose in the room before it died down as quickly as it came. Silence reigned as Connor turned on the screen to play a recorded message.
Word Paynn's face appeared, gloating down at them.
"Greetings to you all."
Word's face twisted up into an evil smile and Artha felt his heart stop beating.