Later, at night, something invisible made their way in the courtyard of Penn Stables, they slowly padded on the ground, their orders being very specific. Return the black and gold whelp to Master Word.
Thanks to their stealth gear, they moved unseen and unheard, perfectly coordinated as they circled around in the compound's courtyard, looking inside the stables for their target. As one of them spied inside a specific stall, they knew they had found their target.
"There it is, the black and gold whelp." Word muttered as he watched intently and carefully through his many monitors, each screen showing a different wraith's perspective. "My wraiths, capture the whelp, but do not attract any unneeded attention."
Word watched as the group of four wraiths looked at one another, and with a nod, three of them stood watch while the forth worked on opening the stall where the whelp was. She was so deeply asleep that she didn't even notice how the wraith grabbed her up from the ground with a mag stream, only to lower her into a sort of basket attached to its back, which then closed, trapping the unaware whelp inside.
"Good, now bring her to the citadel. Your work is done." Word ordered, and just as silently as they came, so the wraiths went, leaving an empty patch of hay behind.
It was going to be a different morning. Or at least Beau and Artha both thought that. As they walked out of the stable and headed for the one where Geeld's stable was, they immediately noticed that it was open.
"Beau, the stable..." Artha said, pointing at the stable, although Beau already beat him to it and rushed to it, only to skid to an halt as the dragon found the stable empty.
"Oh no." Beau whimpered when he couldn't find Geeld anywhere in the stable. "No, no, no! Where is she?!"
"Where's Geeld?!" Artha said as he too looked around. "We must find her!"
In that same moment, Connor came running towards them, having heard them all the way across the compound.
"What's going on, Artha?" He asked, looking at his son as he shook his head. "Beau, where's Geeld?"
Both Artha and Beau looked abashed, as they finally admitted that they couldn't find it.
"Artha, Beau, go out in the city, perhaps we can still find her, somewhere. I'll go call the others, and then I'll go check if anyone intruded and how." Connor called, before running off to do just as he said.
Geeld woke up, a bit stiff, but most importantly cold. She blinked the sleep away, and as her eyes focused on her surroundings she noticed she wasn't in a stable. She sat in a large cage, and wherever she looked she could only see darkness. Geeld shivered, the cold metal and the unsettling feeling she was having really scared her.
Suddenly, out of the shadows emerged a man. He was tall with white hair and gray eyes. He wore some sort of orange robe and something similar to a pale brass coronet.
"Looks like our guest has woken up." The man said, although something in his voice suggested Geeld to keep away from him.
"Who are you?" Geeld squeaked, now visibly shaking as the man approached the cage.
"Don't worry, little one, I'm a friend." The man said, putting a hand on his chest. "My name's Word."
Everyone in the Dragon Temple's cave looked at the security footage, disbelieving that something like that could happen. They watched as the camera that covered the stable's doors showed one of them opening, and shortly after that the faint, glowing purple outline of a bipedal dragon came into being as it magged Geeld on its back, only to disappear once more as it released the energy.
"Wraith dragons." Artha growled, not far off from matching Beau's own.
"Word has been bold, and he won." Connor muttered. "But not for long."
"We have to get her back!" Kitt exclaimed, everyone agreeing.
"But how? We can't just barge in Word's citadel, you know that." Parmon said, cowering behind Cyrano as Kitt stared daggers at him.
"What if we ask Moordryid?" Lance said. "He did help us before, perhaps he will helps us this time as well!"
"What makes you think that he will?" Kitt said, raising an eyebrow at Lance.
"Kitt, Lance is right." Connor said. "If anything, you have to at least try."
"Have the lot of you forgotten that had it not been for Moordryid and the Dragon Eyes, perhaps we wouldn't be in this situation?!" Kitt burst, staring daggers at all of her friends. "For all we know it may as well have been Moordryid who helped his father take Geeld."
"This is getting us nowhere!" Wyldfyr snarled, shaking his head as he started for the lift.
Surprised, Kitt watched as Wyldfyr headed for the elevator without her. Intent on not letting her dragon go alone, or even go at all, she hurried to catch up with him and stopped him.
"Wyldfyr, what's wrong?" Kitt whispered to him, rubbing his neck as the red dragon whined softly. "You're worried sick about Geeld, huh?"
Wyldfyr simply nodded.
"Fine." Kitt sighed. "We'll go to Moordryid, but if he refuses to help I'm going to pay Word a very rude visit."
In the meantime, Word was already taking steps forward with his plans.
He sat at his lab's desk, working on the device that he once gave to Moordryid in an hope to gain a rather sizable clutch of pure black dragons, only to find himself with a black crow-drag.
"My son's failure was not unexpected, and even if I don't have any pure black dragons to my disposal, this device can still serve to its original purpose." Word muttered as he kept working.
In itself the device didn't change much. It still had the spherical black draconium lens, but Word made a few 'improvements'. Within a couple of minutes his work was done.
"Perfect." Word chuckled as he admired the device, the lab's lights reflecting against the black draconium. "The little whelp might be a golden dragon, but her gold draconium isn't concentrated enough. With this, I shall be able to enhance the concentration of gold draconium, while at the same time balancing it with an equal concentration of pure black draconium."
He smirked, enjoying the possibilities that came from this device. But then a problem occurred to him.
"A dragon that powerful would never follow my orders, and normal wraith gear wouldn't be powerful enough to exert sufficient control." Word thought out loud as he placed the device back onto its stand.
With a press of a series of buttons on one of the consoles, a series of pillars appeared, each with a different model of black draconium gear. Word slowly stepped along the walkway that appeared together with the pillars. He eyed every single piece of gear, not sure what to use.
"Too big. Too unstable. Too- hmm." Word was muttering to himself, accounting for each model's flaws, only to stop as his eyes fell on the original prototype that he used to create the wraith gear he used on the Dragon Booster. Another failure, that might not be a complete loss, he thought.
He grabbed the prototype wraith gear and brought it to his work desk, carefully putting the draconium lens aside. Once he re-ordered and recharged his tools he set to work once more.
"Moordyid, come check, we've got visitors." Vizz called as he leaned in the common room from the doorway.
"What now..." Moordryid snarled as he sat up from the couch. "If it's another one of those beggars, I swear I'm gonna throw them down to the hydrags!"
"Uh-uh. These aren't your usual beggars." Vizz said as he sat into his chair in the surveillance room.
"Then who... Stable brats?! What do they want?!" Moordryid shouted as he saw Artha and Kitt on the screen. Vizz couldn't even say anything that Moordryid had already darted out of the room.
"I still think that this not a great idea." Kitt complained, crossing her arms. She kept looking around, checking every alley and every rooftop.
"Well, if Moordryid picks a fight, then we'll be returning the favor." Artha said, taking out his blocking staff and quickly checked it.
"Ha! As if you were even a match for me, stable brat!" Moordryid called as he appeared from behind them. "What do you want?"
"Give us back the whelp!" Wyldfyr roared as Kitt turned him around.
"What whelp?" Decesphun snorted, confused.
"Something's scraping your dragon's scales?" Moordryid asked, smirking at Kitt.
"Where's the whelp, Moordryid?" Kitt asked, her tone of matching intensity to Wyldfyr's.
"What whelp?" Moordryid asked, looking down to Decepshun, which shrugged to him. It was then that he remembered. "Ooh, that whelp."
"Yes, where is it?" Artha asked, preparing his block-staff.
"And why do you ask me? Why don't you ask the Dragon Bother?" Moordryid teased, acting hurt. "I honestly don't know why would you think I'd have a whelp somewhere."
"Perhaps because your father's wraith dragons have taken her?" Kitt angrily snarled, leaning forward in her saddle, taking out and extending her own blocking staff.
"So that's what he had planned..." Moordryid whispered, but not low enough to be unheard.
"So you knew it!" Artha called, Beau growling menacingly. Wyldfyr joined soon enough as both dragons fixed their angry stares at Decepshun and her rider.
"How can you not be ashamed?" Wyldfyr roared at Decepshun. "How can you let your rider step so low to even steal babies!"
"I don't even know what you're talking about, hothead!" Decepshun roared back. "We had nothing to do with whatever is Word planning."
"Moordryid, you have to choose." Artha said, determined to try at least the 'good' way, before resorting at beating Moordryid. "Either you can help us save the whelp, or let your father have a dragon powerful enough that could very well rival the Dragon Booster's and Dragon of Legend's power."
Moordryid looked at him for a moment, letting the offer sink in for a moment. Then, he realized there was a missing detail.
"Just how exactly is that whelp supposed to be just as powerful as the Dragon of Legend? Has it occurred that, perhaps, it's a whelp and not an adult dragon?" Moordryid asked, Beau and Artha exchanging looks with Kitt and Wyldfyr.
"Listen well, Moordryid." Kitt snarled as she turned back to Moordryid. "Honestly, I don't care what your father is gonna do to that whelp. So long she's in his hands, I won't let this stand!"
Moordryid looked at Kitt for a brief moment. He had to admit, he was quite shocked by her behavior, which looked most unusual to him.
"Foolish stable brats..." Moordryid muttered, as he rubbed the ridge of his nose. "Fine! I'll show you a 'safe' way to enter the citadel, but no way I'm going in there. My father is already starting to keep close tabs on me, if he catches me helping you I'll never see the end of it."
"Wow, it really took long for Moordryid to come to reason." Beau snorted to Decepshun as the group started to head for Word's citadel.
"Trust me, 'Loser of Legend', if Word does catch me and Moordryid helping you, you're not gonna see much of us for quite a few weeks." Decepshun rumbled, rolling her eyes at Beau.
"This will be... glorious." Word hissed as he positioned the needed sensors and equipment around the cage that held Geeld. Geeld was wide awake, having been woken up as Word didn't really care to not make any noise.
"What is that stuff?" She chirped, only to let out a large yawn.
"Uh? Oh sorry, I awoke you." Word said, not really looking at Geeld. He was faking an apologetic tone, which seemed to work well enough. "But it is perhaps better this way."
"Why?" She mewled, still not understanding what he was doing.
"Don't worry, after we're finished you'll be stronger and more powerful than you could ever imagine." Word said, turning away to fetch another sensor. He couldn't resist, a small chuckle escaping his throat at the prospect of what was going to happen.
Geeld looked around, the darkness had somewhat brightened, allowing her to watch a bit further than the cage's bounds. She didn't see much, besides a strange thing hanging from what would be the ceiling, with a spherical black thing at its end.
"Ball?" She trilled, approaching the side of the cage where the strange looking ball was.
Word looked on, amused by the whelp's curiosity.
"Yes, ball." Word said, watching as the whelp tried to jump, as if to reach it. Of course it was too high above, and it also was outside the cage, so she could only scratch at the cage's cold metal, a few small sparks lighting up. Distraught, Geeld eventually stopped, looking at the object with sad eyes.
"Don't worry, little one, soon enough you'll have much better things to play around with." Word said, as he setup the last sensor.
"Better things?" She mewled as she looked at him.
"Yes! Better things!" Word kept up his act, sounding full of joy and promise. "Imagine, finally the bigger dragons won't tell you that you're too young for things! You'll say things and they'll do them!"
Geeld looked at him, tilting her head. She really wasn't getting his point. Word, nonetheless, kept his act going, forcing himself to smile as Geeld kept looking at him.
This is a stupid waste of time, Word thought as he struggled to keep the smile as wide as he could.
Finally he let his breath go, turning around as Geeld chirped with joy. Promptly dropping his smile, Word went for his consoles, and with a press of a few buttons and the adjustment of a couple of throttles another robotic arm descended from the ceiling. Grabbing the new and more powerful wraith gear from his desk, he hung it on the mag-lock on the robotic arm. Admittedly, the gear was much bigger than he perhaps intended to make it, but it would suit fine, he hoped.
Ignoring Geeld's quizzical looks, Word kept finishing the needed preparations.