How anyone was supposed to take this kind of situation was well beyond Dylen. He simply just stared, brown eyes locked on the pick-haired girl that had apparently eaten the old man of the house. There were no words he could think of to reply, no witty retort or even a question to throw in hopes of an answer. A moment further of silence, and finally the girl started to laugh.
"Eyahahaha!" she cackled, "You didn't actually believe that did you? There are limits to naivety you know?"
"What's all the racket out here?" shouted a familiar growl, and shortly joining the girl at the balcony was, to Dylen's not so silent relief, Mr. Ringken in all his gruff and stubborn glory in tact.
Kitchenware klinked and klanked in the kitchen, Dylen sitting awkwardly at the table across from the strange girl as Ringken worked to make some late breakfast to the side.
"So?" said the teen, leaning forward to rest on a propped arm. "How much longer am I going to have to wait before you guys tell me what's going on here?" The din to the side stopped, Ringken bringing to the table three bowls of what appeared to be oatmeal.
"There's not much more to say," muttered the old man, placing a bowl before each of them. "I already told ya, the girl here came knocking on my door last night, bleeding a hole through her side before falling at my step." Now that he mentioned it, Dylen could see a hint of rough bandaging peaking out from under the girl's clothes. "I patched her up, and then turned in myself. Next thin' I knew, you was screamin' inside my house like some banshee."
"Yep, that's pretty much it," said the girl, rocking restlessly in her seat. "Thanks a lot old man, you really saved me!" She smiled, oddly energetic for someone who had supposedly collapsed from injury the night before.
"It's not 'old man,' it's Yaidric Ringken," replied the geezer. He propped an elbow and his back to the counter, bowl in one hand and spoon. "The boy over there's Dyle- ,"
"Dylen," he corrected.
"So, how 'bout we have your name eh?"
"Rmn Rgnrenl," she answered, mouth full as she crammed it down like she hadn't eaten in days.
"Dammit girl, swallow before you talk!"
There was a loud gulp as she swallowed, followed by a large tremor that shook the ground. From his position, Ringken with his cereal fell to the floor. In contrast, Dylen and the girl had shot to their feet, and together they ran to the door.
"What in blazes?!" shouted the old man, picking himself up and following behind the younglings.
There outside, lay the form of a massive beast, whose form Dylen recognized right away. "One of the dragons from the village…" he whispered. On cue a wailing roar ripped through the air, and from the clouds fell another like a descending star. "Oh no… MOVE! BACK INSIDE!"
The slamming of the door could barely be heard as the second dragon fell to earth, sending dust and debris flying about the shaking earth. Scrambling in haste to the nearby window, the two managed to look outside just in time to see a third dragon fall to join its comrades in a crater.
"What… Someone tell me what the blazes is going on out there?!" Ringken had finally managed to catch up to the kids, and following their gaze out the window, his jaw dropped like a rock. "Oh shi- !"
From the heavens descended a fourth dragon, twice as large as the ones on the ground. But unlike its smaller kin, instead of falling, it flew. Each of its crimson wings was large enough to blot out the sun with every flap, its body so massive that it rivaled the rustic house in which they hid.
"Stay put you two," Ringken whispered, and reaching under his couch he pulled out a crossbow and a quiver of arrows. Opening the door he stepped out before the titan, barely visible to its eyes under its cast shadow. Despite what his age may have suggested, his voice still boomed loudly, even enough for the Dylen and the girl inside to hear. "What do you want, dragon?! We already gave our tribute!"
The beast with its long neck paused at the sudden voice, and looking down, a low growl thundered from the back of its throat. "Do I look like one of these human-sympathizing weaklings to you?" With one foot it stomped on the throat of one of the fallen dragons. "You insult me, insect."
Ringken notched an arrow to his weapon, aiming with confidence at his foe's head. "We have nothing hear for you. With all respect I must ask you to leave."
Several rumbles of thunder came from the dragon, that which Dylen could only assume was it laughing. "You say that, yet you point that toy in my direction?" His foot stomped again, near rupturing the fallen dragon's throat. "Know your place, insect! I had come upon hearing of these traitors… disgustingly harboring you like creatures equal of standing-," Its speech was interrupted by an arrow, bouncing harmlessly off the ridge of its brow. "Foolishness."
Arching its neck, intensely hot air gathered inside its throat like a vacuum. There was nothing that the old man could do. Knowing full well that whatever he did was but a futile last effort, Ringken fell back to the ground. His legs shook, his mind faltered. Here he would die, unable to protect the two children that would watch his demise from inside. He closed his eyes as the dragon lurched forward, spewing a tunnel of fire that even before leaving its mouth he could feel its agonizing heat.
But death never came. Instead the heat had begun to disappear. Upon opening his eyes, the bright flames were actually being siphoned out from their initial trajectory! Before long both fire and heat had completely vanished, and all that stood between him was the girl that should have been with Dylen behind the window. She stood, glaring up with focused eyes, a white scarf wrapped around her neck.
"Ho…" said the dragon, standing tall in response to its new foe. "Pink hair and a white scarf… I did not expect to meet the infamous Salamander all the way out here."
"I'm Igneel," she said, punching a fist into her palm. "Thanks for the meal."
