Dylan groaned in pain as he came to. He struggled to open his eyes but the small bit of light that leaked through the half open lids just intensified his migraine to the point where it felt as if his head was in a tightening vice. Instead he tried to haul himself up only to find himself chained to something.

Dylan was instantly wide awake, eyes snapping open and causing him to wince at the sudden bright seeming light. Looking around he spotted a few other people around shackled to stout posts similar to his own. "Chong?" Dylan mumbled weakly, "is that you?" The only response was a loud snore. Dylan would have rolled his eyes in most other situations. The dopey bugger, in fact everyone but him it seemed, had fallen asleep!

Returning his attention to his surroundings Dylan noted that they were being kept in a large tent made of some sort of thick canvass material. What little light there was filtered through the threads in the heavy red and orange fabric.

Turning his attention back to his more immediate predicament Dylan started to fiddle with the manacles binding him to the post. He managed to twist enough to see that they had a simple latch mechanism instead of an actual lock, but with his arms wrapped around the post behind it back it was a moot point unless Dylan's arms suddenly grew over a foot longer apiece.

Looking forward Dylan found his feet shackled in a similar fashion and staked to the ground in two separate places to keep his using his toes to fiddle with the latches. He tried pulling the steaks out of the ground but it was no use. He would probably have been able to do it had he been standing up but in this forced sitting position the angle was just to awkward. Nevertheless Dylan kept trying different ways to wiggle out of the bonds, but with so few options available there wasn't much he could do.

With a sigh Dylan stopped struggling. He hadn't eaten since Chong had given him that hunk of bread and there was no point in wasting what little energy he had regained from being knocked out. Besides even if he did wiggle free he would probably just get caught again anyway.

Instead Dylan focused on trying to hear anything he could outside the tent. Other then the shuffling of feet and a pair of muttering voices that probably belongs to whatever bored soldiers had been set to guard this tent Dylan heard nothing. With a defeated sigh Dylan sagged against the post just trying to make himself as comfortable as possible. A feat much easier then he fist thought it would be since his libs had gone numb quite a while ago.

However the hammering headache brought on from whatever 'cactus juice' was combined with that crack to the head earlier kept Dylan wide awake. So he waited. And waited. And waited. And for a change of pace...waited some more

888

Approaching the tent where the prisoners were being kept the commander glared at the guards when he saw their lax attitude. "Report!" he barked causing both of them to snap to attention.

"No problems sir" one said, "One of them struggled for a while but whichever one it was gave up after a few minutes."

The commander nodded. "As you where then" he growled. Picking up a nearby oil lamp and lighting it the commander pushed his way into the tent. Taking a look around he found the big man in the strange clothes staring right at him. Almost casually the commander hung the lamp on the tents central post before strolling around the ring of prisoners. The man didn't take his eyes off him for even a second.

"You've put me in quite the predicament you know" the commander said as he came to a stop in front of the man, "Thanks to you I have a rogue scout. You know what that means?"

The man shook his head blankly.

Kneeling down the commander glared at the man. "It means that I now have NO information on what is is I'm supposed to be doing out here" he snapped even as he reached out and grabbed the mans hair and jerked his head back causing the man to cry out in pain. "It means that, not only am I now one man short, but if our enemies catch wind of us because of you and escape I'll be stuck in this armpit of the world for the rest of my career." He jerked the mans head back and forth a few times before looking him right in the eve. "Where is my scout?"

"I don't know" the prisoner growled, contempt and fear written all over his face.

Letting go of the mans hair the commander wound up and slammed his fist into the mans gut. "Answer me!" he shouted.

"I don't know" the man groaned, "He ran off into the forest in his underwear babbling a bunch of nonsense.

The man filched as the commander wound up for another punch. But it never came. When he looked up he found the commander staring at him instead. "You know" said the commander at length, "maybe I'm going about this all wrong." The man almost breathed a sigh of relief but it turned to a scream when the commanders boot cracked him in the ribs. "Perhaps a little target practice will loosen your tongue. Guards!"

The mans eyes widened even further as the guards entered and, at a signal from the commander, unshackled him and haled him outside. "No I swear I don't know where that soldier went!" the man screamed, "he just ran off when..."

He was cut off when the commander punched him again. "For your sake you had better be lying" the commander snapped, "Because if you have caused me this much trouble by just being a bumbling moron then..." he let the threat hang in the air.

888

Dylan struggled as the guards lashed him to a post near the edge of the camp. Whatever these guys meant by target practice it couldn't be good. Looking around he saw several of the red armored soldiers either wandering off shaking their heads or encircling him to either stare of jeer at him. The guards finished lashing him to the post and backed away. Forcing his head up he saw one of the soldiers standing a few yards opposite him. His memory flashing back to the missing scout Dylan put two and two together and figured out exactly what the commander meant by 'target practice.'

Panic rising in him Dylan stuggled furiously against the bonds. The cords groaned and shifted. If only he could break them or cut them or burn through them or...something! The man standing across from his just chuckled.

"Don't worry earth kingdom scum" he growled, "I wont be long, my friends want their turn to." the crowd chuckled and Dylan struggled even harder. In one fluid motion the soldier spun and sent a stream of flame hurtling his way.

Dylan squeezed his eyes shut trying his best to brace himself against the pain but knowing it probably wouldn't even come close to being enough. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the stream of fire shot towards him. Dylan struggled and writhed even harder from the heat. It felt like he was already on fire. His breath was coming out in scorched wheezes and his insides felt like they had been set to a boil. Squezing his eyes even tighter as the fireball came within inches of his left shoulder Dylan wished it would go away, wished he could be anywhere but here, wished he could do...ANYTHING but stand here and get roasted.

There was a rush of searing heat the next time Dylan exhaled and then, nothing. No searing pain no burning clothing or hair. Then Dylan heard several people screaming. He opened his eyes to see one of the soldiers that had been watching running around with his sleeve on fire. In his panic he stumbled into a nearby tent setting it ablaze.

Looking away from the confusion and down at the ground Dylan saw a large spray of grass that had been turned to ash, almost as if two fireballs had collided in mid air. But that wasnt possible unless, no that was impossible. And yet through the haze of Dylan's heat fueled delirium he remembered something the dragon has told him. Something about inner fire. He had taken it for a metaphor at the time but she couldn't have been speaking literally...could she?

Deciding he had nothing to loose Dylan closed his eyes and focused as hard as he could on the little kernel of heat that seemed to still be burning in his belly. At first nothing happened, it was so frustrating, Dylan had thought that maybe he would have a way out. But of course not, karma just HAD to sneer at him... There, the warmth was spreading, up from his belly and into his lungs. He breathed in and out stoking the inner fire. It grew and grew until Dylan felt like he was going to explode but he still couldn't force it out. Just a bit more.

Dylan's eyes widened when a weak stream of smoke and flame billowed out of his nose and mouth. Focusing hard he moved the warm feeling down his arms. His skin felt like it would boil any second. But instead the ropes holding his wrists began to sizzle and pop before they burst into flame and disintegrated.

Freeing his arms Dylan found it easier, though no by much, to burn away the ropes around his waist and ankles. Stumbling for a moment as the last bonds came undone Dylan started to run in the opposite direction of the panic. By now several tents were on fire and the soldiers were to busy trying to set up bucket chains to put them out for any of them to notice Dylan skulking about.

Rounding a corner Dylan looked around and spotted the tent were he and the other had been held captive. Keeping his head down he dashed inside to find Chong and the other humming something.

"Dylan" Chong said, "we were wondering where you went."

"No time to talk right now" Dylan panted as he unlatched the shackles from each member of Chongs group.

Chong looked like he was considering something very carefully as he retrieved his guitar from the place where it had been tossed in the corner of the tent. "What about a song then!" he chirped seemingly oblivious to what was going on.

Dylan straightened from undoing the last shackle. He would have rolled his eyes if the situation wasn't so urgent. Then a thought occurred to him. "Yah it is time for a song" Dylan said, "It's time for the running song. Do you know the running song?"

The nomads shook their heads.

"Well you make it up as you run toward the nearest town" Dylan said.

Chongs eyes lit up. "That's the town with sky guy!" he said excitedly.

"lead the way then" Dylan said.

Without a second thought everyone bolted from the tent accompanied by Chong strumming wildly on his guitar.

888

The commander knelt next to the post and examined the scorched remains of the ropes. It had taken some time but the fires had been brought under control before the whole camp burned down.

Just then the commander heard someone shouting and looked up to see one of the tent guards. "Sir" panted the guard as he skidded to a halt, "The prisoners have all escaped!"

The commander growled. This just wasn't his day. Well there was nothing for it. "Pack up camp!" he roared instantly gaining the attention of everyone withing earshot, "we march on Ton Li now!"

Before anything else goes wrong he added mentally as the troops hastened to obey.

Authors notes

Bit long in coming but hopefully updates will become more frequent now. Anyway hope you enjoyed chapter two. Ciao.