Chapter 20
Omashire…
The name meaning Dwellers of Land…
The first settlement in the Midwest of Pasadenia that incorporated all walks of life in harmony. Forest dwellers, magic and non-magic using humans, mythical and non-mythical animals, and even phantoms all living in one of the largest cities of Pasadenia. Farmers, black smiths, politicians, bounty hunters, and all other types of jobs were easily found in and on the outskirts of the city. Omashire has boomed and bustled its way into one of the epitome of what other towns wished to be.
A male centaur pays a woman for his apple that was selling fruit on the side of the bustling streets of Omashire. There is store after store, side by side all throughout the town. A faun playing his piccolo on the corner plays happy music as humans, half-human animals, ghosts, and monsters harmoniously shop the small bizarre. The chocolate palomino paint centaur's hooves clop against the cobblestone as he takes a bite out of his apple. With a smile, he gladly wipes the juice running down his chin as his pale honey tail whips at his sides. A crash from up above shakes the beast to stand firm and stare up at the sky. As the wave of red carpets the sky, the piccolo music stops and the centaur's apple hits the ground.
There is mass panic as people start grabbing their children or gathering their things and running back into their homes. A single man with a large, modern day axe upon his back sat confidently upon a 17 point white stag that is barely anything but a white blur. The beast's speed is unmatched as it bounds and leaps side to side until it was clear of the masses. Its graceful swiftness takes it toward a cliff on the outskirts of town. The white stag slows and finally stops to stand upon the rocky edge of the cliff to look out from the clearing towards the Misseri River. A man sweeps his leg over the large beast's back to put two worn boots upon the ground. He circles to the front of the stag and grabs the reins under its chin. With the other hand, he throws the hood off his head then the tall cover over his face to reveal an older man with a small bit of black hair on top and speckled grey hair on the sides. His face was covered in scars from horrendous burns. His brown eyes narrowed and he placed a stern look upon his scarred face. His eyes reflect the red glow and green fire off in the distance of the Fowler's castle being rebuilt on the banks of other side of Misseri.
A huge grizzly bear grunts and runs up behind the older man. The stag honks and tries to get away, but the older man holds on and jerks the reins down to get the stag's attention. The beast calms as the grizzly bear soon shifts into another older gentleman. He had all his hair shaven off the top of his head but his beard and mustache were short and salt and peppered bits of black and gray. He was older, but his body structure was strong and proud. His eyes were a darker blue and his face was just as stern at the first gentlemen.
The bear man spoke first was a deep manly voice that fit his bear persona perfectly, "Governor Wyatt… the people of the village have gathered at town hall… they're demanding a conference, immediately."
Wyatt gave a sigh and looked back at the castle, "Mr. Rostenkowski… we're going to need to do more than gather… the witches have returned and they're more powerful than I've ever felt them to be. I… I can't even feel my daughter's aura anymore. Gather as many men as you can… I have a feeling that a battle is just around the corner."
Wyatt heard Rostenkowski grunt a 'Yes Sir' before shift back to his grizzly form and running back towards town. Wyatt's jaws clenched and unclenched again and again as he tried to seek out his daughter's aura. It was the only way he could really 'see' his daughter… what after the witches taking her away from them and setting his family AND his farm afire. He was the unlucky one… the one who actually survived. He had to sit through his wife's, daughter's, and son's funeral while wrapped up like some cartoon mummy. He made a name for himself by keeping peace and order within the chaotic town of Omashire… the town in the shadows of the Fowler's castle.
He shook his head… he didn't need OR want to go through his memories right now… he needed to stay focused. The witches were building an army… he could feel them rising and he knew he needed to put his people first. He mounted his white stag and gripped the reins. He used his right hand and slipped his index in between the two reins to hold in with one hand. The stag was neck-reining trained and Wyatt moved his hand to the left to where the leather rein pressed against the stag's neck. The stag side stepped to the left and Wyatt urged the stag on with a little kick to the side as he clicked his tongue against his teeth. The stag lurched forward and bounded towards the village.
Lady Fowler stood in the room that had housed Rakooth and just stood staring at the mantle. Her Pembe curse had been lifted and she was her full human self again. Her long brunette hair curtained her face as her saddened blue eyes watered. She didn't miss the book… She DIDN'T! She had her mother back… she had her power… she had the whole world at her feet… she didn't miss some stupid talking book. She pounded her fist into podium and it trickled down into a mound of granddaddy longlegs and they all scattered.
The loneliness… it was something she truly never had to deal with. Even when her mother was melded to the tree… she had Althea, Rakooth, and Penelope. Now… she stood alone. Her mother was far too consumed with power… she ALWAYS was. How can a woman who loved her so much… make her feel so empty inside? She clenched her hands into tight fists and tears escaped.
She shook her head and wiped her tears angrily… NO! She wasn't going to be the weak little girl she once was. She was a witch… she was a monster… she would become the nightmares of all those who survived their onslaught. Her eyes began to glow and smoke a hazardous green and she spun 180 degrees while waving her right hand. The room burst into green flames and transformed the small space into a lab full of large shelves and long tables. There were potions and jars full of exotic ingredients slammed full upon each shelf. The walls were covered in diagrams of human and creature anatomy with pressure points, muscle and bone structures, and organ placement all over them. Books and scrolls scattered all over the tables with a huge kettle in the center where a fire pit was dipped into the solid stone flooring.
She walked to the far back where light seemed to try to escape. There was a creepy rickety shelving that held body parts of random creatures including the head of her father and the fetus of a monkey. This was where she used her necromancy and the Ghede Loa summoning. She moved to a single scroll and pulled it out from in between a half rotted boar skull and the tip of Cthulhu's tentacle (that was still twitching like a worm). She gripped the scroll tightly and she raised her head high. Green flame engulfed her and she disappeared in puff of smoke.
Lordornia stood in the center of the castle where her tree once stood. The little landing was now surrounded by a deep, brooding hole with magma boiling and shooting up trying to escape. With the tiara firmly upon her skull, she gripped a vile corked and handing on a small chain in her hand… a vile of filled with blood. She stared at the magma below with anger still fervent in her eyes.
Lady Fowler flashed and appeared behind her and Lordornia snapped out of her vengeful stare. She moved her head slightly and spoke, "Did you bring the scroll of Verrijzenis?"
"Yes, Mother." Lady Fowler brought the scroll to her mother and the witch nearly snatched it out of her hands
The Blood Witch smiled evilly as she held up the vile and the scroll side by side, "Your aunt's blood and the scroll of resurrection… mixed with my unstoppable power… we won't be calling upon the dead, my sweet daughter..." She set the vile and scroll on fire within her grasp and clapped her hands together. It transformed into a skull with horns cascading from the above the eye sockets and backwards. The upper canines were huge and long as the human skull looked more reptilian. Lordornia held up the skull and smiled, "Dear Sister… Come and give me your Kin!" She tossed the skull into the lake of lava below, "RISE MY CLAN OF DRAGONS! FEAST UPON THE FLESH OF MY ENEMIES AND SET THIS WORLD… AFLAME!"
Lady Fowler took a few steps back as the lava seemed to shoot up. Each stem of magma erupted into a winged, reptilian monster that found their way to the edge of the tunnel leading up and out of the castle. More and more dragons erupted until they entire tunnel was overrun. The magma, then, began to arch out towards where the witches stood and huge, four long-legged, armored dragons morphed from the lava. Wave after wave of dragons came and filled up around the two witches.
There was a rush of orange and yellow as a strange formed dragon shot out of the lava. Lady Fowler could see her mother smiling and she took in a deep breath. Leslitico Winklivre, the Dragon Child, was her aunt, but truth be told… Leslitico was absolutely horrid… especially to her. Leslitico saw her as some mistake that needed to be rectified and constantly asked her mother why she hadn't 'disposed of her yet'. Lady Fowler hated her aunt… so it was only natural that she'd recognize the scaly bitch when she saw her. The dragon that landed on the landing right in front of her mother, set aflame and shifted into her human form. Shoulder length dark hair, black body suit with brown shoulder pads that had porcupine quills with rough and tussled fur out the back. She had metallic shin guards with a talon like spur on the back of the boots. She had tanned hide wrapped around her wrists with bone rings that covered her middle fingers with a sharpened tip on the ends. Her face was full of arrogance as she smiled and shared a hug with her sister; narrowing her eyes at Lady Fowler within the embrace, "I see you haven't disposed of that little whelp, yet. She is nothing but a burden to you, sister. If she were mine…"
Lady Fowler snarled, "If it wasn't for ME… you'd still be a paper weight holding down my magic spells on my desk… so SHUT YOUR HOLE!"
Leslitico stood shocked that the girl talked back. Her eyes began to glow yellow as a rumbling growl built in her chest. Suddenly, Lordornia shot her hand and it crackled against her sister's chest, "Dear sister, I brought you back for a reason… not for you to insult my daughter. I have given you an army…" Lordornia spun her sister and showed her the hundreds of dragons and counting, "… an ENDLESS army I should add… I wish for you to set this world ABLAZE!"
Leslitico gave a smile and looked over at her sister, "I can do that, but… there is one man I would like to sink my teeth into first. Sir DUMBASS…"
Lady Fowler interrupted, "… he's already dead. Ouroboros took care of him."
Leslitico spun to look at the girl then back to her sister who confirmed with a nod. The Dragon Child cursed and stomped her foot, "Damn… alright… guess it's back to the fun, then?" She stepped forward and let out a shrilling cackle and the dragon's with wings took off and headed up the tower. Leslitico ran and dove off while falling to the lava. One of the dragons swooped and caught her and headed to the sky.
Lordornia eyes flashed red and she smiled darkly, "Amelia, dear, we seem to have guests surrounding our castle." She waves her arm in the opening and an image of people from the Omashire village took precise points from around the castle and began to chant. Lordornia's laugh rang out, "How cute… they are trying to nullify my magic... I guess we'll have to teach them a lesson." Her eyes burned red and she snapped her fingers. Suddenly, the ground around the castle turned to quicksand and began to suck in all the villagers just as the dragons flocked from overhead.
Wyatt groaned as he looked up then grabbed a rope from his saddle bag upon his white stag. He threw the rope out and began pulling his town's folk out. He couldn't save them all… he saw a few of their heads going deep into the sand and he began to yell for help. It was then that the earth seemed to explode and spit them out one-by-one. Then, a woman with a rattle and a man in a long tan trench coat jumped in and started helping as well. Wyatt turned to see a man with a bowl haircut with his hands glowing blue as he concentrated on where each individual were then shot them up and out of the devouring ground. Wyatt gave a smile and kicked his stag on and began using his rope to pull out a few more before everyone was safe.
Wolowix looked at the white stag with a strange look then up at the scarred man's face, "Everyone ok?"
Wyatt looked around and spoke with a slight Mid-Western tone, "Thanks to you… uhh…"
Wolowix walked up to the side of the stag and lifted his hand, "Howardrick… Howardrick Wolowix. I'm an innovagygr. This is Althea and Wesley Wheaton. We've come for the party the witches are about to throw."
Wyatt swallowed as he followed the three people's gaze up into the dragon infested skies. The castle seemed to shake and crumble as a hole formed in the side where they all stood. Althea's eyes went wide then Wyatt's white stag grunted and began to get antsy. Two huge armored dragons with horns that seemed to crisscross across their faces stomped to the edge of the hole and let out a honking roar. He grabbed the reins and turned to his people and screamed, "FALL BACK! FALL BACK NOW!" His stag took off just as Althea, Wesley, and Wolowix cursed and dodged the stream of fire that exploded out just in the nick of time. The two dragons stomped their feet and charged out. An army of stampeding dragons discharged from the hole. The creatures spat and sprayed everything with flame as they thundered forward towards the village.
Wolowix and Wesley took off towards the village, too… making sure they stayed clear of the dragon's fire. Althea stared up at the top of the castle and gripped her asson tight before moving forward. She came to a small thorny bush and she whispered a few little incantations and the bush reversed and shrunk into a small dandelion and revealed a small door. Althea looked around for a moment before sliding into the door and into the castle.
Penelope woke to an odd sense of rocking. She opened her eyes and saw blurs of trees passing by in unbelievable speed. She pushed herself up to see that she was on top of a huge creature made up of twisted roots, vines, and branches. It was in the shape of a very tall elephant and it was easily moving through a thick forest. She looked over the side to see centaurs, fauns, minotaurs, nymphs, fairies (in balls of light streaming like bugs), and all kinds of forest dwelling animals pushing forward. Penelope groaned and stretched before standing up on the sturdy beast under her feet and seeing where they were headed. She clenched her fists at the sight of the witch's castle and creatures flooding out of it.
"Dragons."
Penelope pursed her lips and let out a sigh. She looked up and was shocked AND relieved to see winged creatures of all kinds filling the air above them. She gave a sad smile and looked to her right. Past the tree line to where there were grassy hills she could see what looked like a pack of dogs racing to the same place as they were.
There was a sudden uproar that brought the speed of all the creatures up a notch. Penelope had to sit and hang on as the elephant she was on raised its trunk and began charging forward. She moved to where she was behind the creature's head and close to its ear, "Before you do that, may I get down… I have a problem with HEEEEEEIIIIIGGGHHHTTTSSS." As she asked, the trunk shaped twist of branches came up and encircled around her waist and placed her on the ground, gently.
She stood on the forest floor, stunned, just as it charged forward. When she shook out of it, she yelled a 'Thank You' before looked towards the village. Her eyes narrowed and she looked down at her attire. She was still in her white dress, but she had a thick camo jacket on. She gave a pretty big smile at what was in the jacket's pockets. She was still barefooted and it almost stopped her from attempting what she was about to do. She bent down, ripped the skirt of her dress to where it safely above the knee and she took off running. She flung the white fabric behind her and it flagged and fluttered all the way down.
Her speed hadn't changed a bit as she breezed past centaurs like they were little fat kids running track. She leapt up and bounced off trees and buried rocks until the two was in full view. She could see smoke and a blaze flicker up in the air. She was just about to run towards it when the buildings before her began to collapse and she had to move to dodge the debris.
A clan of armored dragons came bustling through their demolishing and charged forward. Before Penelope could reach into her pockets deadly accurate arrows came flying in and hit every vulnerable spot the dragons had. Penelope shook her head at how easily the centaurs had killed the 7 beasts… with only 8 arrows. The extra was from a filly just learning how to shoot, but it was lodged into one of the dragon's eye balls, so… not a complete waste of a shot. Penelope shook her head and careened forward as more dragons came and more arrows answered.
She headed towards the castle and could see it clearly until one of the winged dragons, that looked fairly young since it wasn't as big as a normal dragon, swooped down and attempted to grab a human child that had fallen. "Oh God." she muttered as she grabbed at her pockets and took out a few Blossom stars and ran full blast towards the scene. Penelope screamed to get the dragon's attention and it worked. The dragon was in one place, flapping its wings, looking towards Penelope just as she threw her Blossoms. They hit vital points of the wings and the beast let out a shrill of pain and collapsed upon the cobblestone below.
The mother of the child snatched her 'baby' up and took off running. The small dragon was still a pretty sizable opponent, especially against her 5'5" frame. The dragon walked with its wings as front legs as its powerful back legs pushed its body off the ground. The creature stood 7 foot off the ground. Its face was looked as if it were covered in small, tiny teeth that formed an intricate pattern all over its body. Its tail was three times longer than its body and had webbing connected to its back legs. At the end of the tail was a barb of longer, teeth like bone that would resemble spikes from far away.
Penelope swallowed and knew that her measly little Blossoms weren't going to do any kind of damage against this monstrosity. The dragon hopped on the fold of its wings then let out a very thunderous roar that made her flinch. It lurched forward, but a white creature zoomed in between them causing the dragon to last backwards. Just as it did the white stag kicked out both of its back legs and kicked the dragon right on the kisser just as the stag's rider came down with an axe right into the beast's skull. With a very sickening crack of bone, brain, and metal colliding… the dragon fell and the axe still lodged into its brain.
The rider hopped off and patted his steed's chest while retrieving his weapon. The old man turned around with a smile and started to speak, "Are you alright, mi…. ss" His jaw goes completely loose as he stares.
Penelope smiles and nods, "Yes sir… thank you."
Without skipping a beat, Penelope gives the old man a smile and speeds off towards the castle. Wyatt stares off after the sprinting blonde and nearly sheds tears that, one: his daughter didn't recognize him and two: she was fighting against the witches. The last time he saw Penelope, they had a big fight about her not being able to go on a trail ride with her friends. He was more than confident that his daughter could ride her chestnut mare, Daisy, but he wasn't prepared to allow his youngest to go out so close to nightfall by herself. His answer was no and she stormed up the stairs and slammed her room screaming that she hated him. It was the last memory he had before the horde of orcs rushed into their home with Lordornia and her daughter close behind them. He remembered fire and pain and the screams of his wife… Wyatt lets out a painful sigh as he shakes off the gore from his axe and gets back up upon his stag. His eyes burn with tears as he whispers softly, "My little Slugger… all grown up."