It wasn't the smoothest ride in the world.
Tyrrany and Flame were quite cramped as they sat in the back of the wagon as the caravan made its way across the countryside. The journey had taken several days; nobody from Warfang came after them, and nobody in the caravan seemed to care either way what three teenagers were doing huddled up back there. Whenever the caravan stopped for meals, the trio was invited to dine on their most exquisite foods: fire-roasted bread with plain jam. A far cry from their multi-course meals during the ride towards Warfang… but it was better than starving.
Flame and Arthur had passed the time in the same manner they usually had; by chatting it up and remarking on the lovely scenery of the countryside. Tyrrany, however, had much more on her mind.
For one thing, she felt like a fool. Everything her father had scolded her about was right: She'd let her anger get the better of her again. She lightly growled and banged her head on a support beam of the wagon as she replayed her actions over and over in her mind.
She just wasn't ready to take on a black dragon; not even one younger than her! And certainly not her own half-brother! Even outnumbered, the drake still took out Jonathan and his goons. Even her convexity wasn't enough to give her an advantage: the prince had his own dark magic, which he used with even greater finesse than her own. And he… he beat her. He smacked her up and down like she wasn't a challenge at all. She should have known better… she shouldn't have underestimated a black dragon.
Her rash assault on Prince Cyrus had been costly in other ways: Jonathan and his companions were taken captive by Warfang's forces. While Tyrrany wasn't emotionally attached to the earth prince, she had to admit this was a major setback. What were the Deep Shadows going to do to him or his goons in the dungeons? Would they torture them for information? Beat them for the fun of it? Or… would they use Jonathan's attack as an excuse to declare war on Aeroshard? The moment General Saul learned that his son had been taken, he may just try to march on Warfang prematurely. Saul wouldn't just abandon Jonathan for their failure; not when he needed an heir to complete the alliance with the FTC.
Plus… Jonathan is his son, Tyrrany thought with a sigh. A Father doesn't just give up on their child… right?
The dragoness shivered as she remembered how disappointed Bergan looked when she saw him last. The purple drake would never have needed to send her off on a side mission had she not messed up… on her very first day of scouting, no less. Her stomach churned, and she held her head in shame.
I'm sorry, Dad… She shut her eyes and sucked in a breath. I won't let you down again: I mean it!
As Tyrrany collected herself, her thoughts drifted to one last thing from that confrontation with the black dragon… one that left her puzzled as he said it before she fled the scene.
"Are you… Hope?"
Hope… Hope… Not are you hopeful. Not are you hoping for something… Are you HOPE. With a capital H. Did… did that black dragon… Prince Cyrus… did he think that Hope was her name? Tyrrany wrinkled her muzzle and rolled her eyes. Well, that was good for a laugh. As if her life had given her any reason to be hopeful. But what did it mean?
On the fourth day, the caravan came to a stop. It was so early in the morning that the sun hadn't risen yet. The coachman of their wagon hopped down and carefully made his way around to face them. Tyrrany and the boys stood up tall to greet the cheetah, who looked around at them with a stoic expression.
"This is about as far as you all go." He said sternly; the cheetah reached for his belt and detached a bag of coins. "This is for you."
Flame cautiously took the bag, and he held it up curiously. "Uhh… thanks?"
"I was given an anonymous tip that some young passengers would need the coinage on the fourth day out of Warfang." The cheetah said with a nod. "Best of luck to ya… wherever you're headed."
"Err…" Flame cautiously took the coins. "Thanks, sir."
"Get moving, and be quick about it." The cheetah crossed his arms. "I don't want the Guardians to suspect anything out here."
"Right…" Tyrrany sighed and grasped her violin case. "Come on, guys."
Flame helped the dragoness carry their satchels out of the wagon, while Arthur flew just overhead with a grimace. Tyrrany just sighed as she walked across the grass; she had a feeling that the dragonfly felt bad for not being able to carry anything. But what could a little thing like him do, really? His emotional support would have to do.
Once the three teenagers were far enough away, Tyrrany reached into the confines of her cloak. She shivered as her talons pressed against the cold surface of the crystal her father had given her. And when she pulled it out… a chill crept along her spine.
"Time to go already?" Arthur asked her.
"Y-Yeah…" She whispered.
Tyrrany tensed up as she held the little crystal in her forepaws. She felt a shudder as she ran her talons along its near-perfect surface. Even in its dormant state, she could feel the latent power looming beneath the surface; like the heat of a fire on the wall behind a fireplace. She didn't want to tap into it; she didn't want to risk losing herself… but if she was going to make her way to Ninn, she needed the teleportation.
"Are you two ready?" She whispered cautiously.
"Yeah, Annie." Flame and Arthur said in unison.
"Then get close." She insisted. "I… I just want to be sure we're all in one piece."
The two male teenagers huddled up close to Tyrrany. She stretched her wing out to drape it across Flame's back to hug him close and had the dragonfly sit upon her snout and hug her as well. Honestly, it felt good feeling them close by; she was that much less nervous as she held the crystal aloft and reached within it with her spirit…
The purple energy roared to life, and the heat of the crystal increased dramatically. She threw it forward onto the ground, and a thunderous boom roared to life as a geyser of magic emerged. The light of the geyser cast itself across Tyrrany's scales, and she shivered as she walked forward. Flame stayed right by her side, and they took steady breaths together as they ventured forth through the magic…
For a brief moment, Tyrrany felt as if she was walking on air… and it wasn't a pleasant feeling at all. She swung her legs about worriedly, and kept her eyes shut tight; she didn't want to imagine what was beneath her… or worse, what wasn't.
And then, just as soon as the sensations started, they ended. Tyrrany felt cold grass beneath her paws, and a calm wind blew against her body. She could smell the distinct scent of sea salt tickling her nostrils.
"We're here." Flame whispered into her ear frill. "You can look now, Annie."
Tyrrany opened her eyes and found herself standing on a foothill just to the north of a port town. There was a grand tower and observatory off to the west on a mountain; presumably the Shining Talon. That must have meant they were just before Ninn.
"We made it!" Arthur cheered as he flew up into the air. "That teleport crystal thingy worked!"
"Yeah, it did…" Tyrrany strode forward to march down the hill. "Now come on: we need to find the FTC boat and get out of here."
Flame and Arthur exchanged uneasy glances, but then just sighed and followed after the dragoness. Tyrrany did her best to hold her head high… but she just felt so tired.
~~…~~
It took much longer than Tyrrany would have liked to make their way through the streets of Ninn. Even though the citizens were tucked away snugly in their homes, a number of the more rowdy dragons and non-dragons were heading this way and that. A lot of them wore sailors' uniforms with standards and symbols from a variety of kingdoms. Tyrrany tried to remember if her father had ever brought her here during one of their trips across the realms, but she couldn't remember anything specific. She just pulled her hood tight over her face and did her best not to draw attention to herself.
Flame and Arthur seemed to enjoy the sights; Tyrrany looked back and saw them gawking at the small buildings and overhangs. The dragonfly in particular was in awe of the observatory way up atop the mountain.
"Wow, look at that!" Arthur exclaimed. "Just think of how many dragonflies could live up there!"
"If they're all as loud as you, then they wouldn't stay very long." Flame snickered.
"Hey!" Arthur crossed his arms and sneered. But soon the dragonfly was laughing right along with the drake.
Tyrrany couldn't help but sigh; the pair always found a way to enjoy their surroundings and joke about it. Most other times, Tyrrany might have snapped at them for not focusing on the mission, but this time she just felt... sad. Maybe it was the literal and metaphorical weights on her shoulders, but Tyrrany longed to just come to a stop. To relax on the side of the road, and let herself enjoy time with her two friends. But no; she pushed herself to keep leading the way. She couldn't stop; couldn't rest… not until they were safely on the boat.
After far too much walking, the three teenagers finally arrived at the docks. And there, off to the far eastern side of the boardwalk, was the familiar sight of an FTC sailing vessel. Tyrrany's eyes lit up upon seeing the familiar logo of her father's company upon the sails. She sighed in relief; every time she saw something from Faeshrine, she could feel the familiar warmth of her father smiling down upon her.
We're safe… Tyrrany thought as she made her way toward the vessel. I'm safe.
But as Tyrrany looked down from the mast toward the hull of the ship, she spotted something that made her flinch in alarm. A considerable number of dragons in nomadic robes were gathered on the boardwalk just before the vessel. One of the dragons, a red drake with an athletic build, was speaking with a familiar cheetah in an FTC uniform. A small dragoness stood by the red drake's side the whole while and gazed around at the ship in seeming awe and wonder.
"Who's that?" Tyrrany asked curiously as she focused on the drake.
"I think that's Reginar." Flame scratched his chin. "He's one of the commanders who works for my dad in the sailing fleet."
"I know who the cheetah is." Tyrrany snorted. "I was talking about the dragon."
"Well, only one way to find out, Annie." Flame winked at her. "Let's get on the ship."
Reginar and the dragon shook paws, and the cheetah stepped out of the way of the gangplank. The dragon turned on his heels and spoke with a few of the other nomads to make their way in two lines up the gangplank and onto the vessel. He then ventured up the gangplank himself, with the young dragoness following just behind him.
Tyrrany slowed to a stop and watched as the dragons very calmly made their way up onto the vessel. Tyrrany fell back on her haunches and tapped her talons as she waited for the nomadic drakes to get out of her way. A minute passed, then another, and then another. By the fourth minute, Tyrrany was scowling in frustration.
"Alright, I don't have time for this!" Tyrrany exclaimed. She carefully hefted up her supplies and stomped forward. "Make way!"
Flame and Arthur grimaced as they sheepishly followed behind Tyrrany. The dragoness shoved her way through the line of nomads, making them gasp in surprise or shout irritably. Tyrrany tried to pay them no mind, but she couldn't help but glance at a lot of their faces. Dark green, crimson, grey, dark blue, dark yellow… all the same, recurring shades commonly found among dark dragons. That must be what they were, then: Dark dragon nomads. Tyrrany's eye twitched a bit, but she didn't give away her mistrust. Just as long as none of them got too close…
"Wait your turn!" One of the older dragons snapped at Tyrrany. "Stop cutting!"
Tyrrany just rolled her eyes and ignored the dragon; she didn't have time to explain that she wasn't part of their group.
"Hey!" Reginar shouted up ahead. "Who's doing that?! Just what do you think you're…?" As soon as Tyrrany's face became visible to the cheetah, his expression turned pale and he coughed awkwardly. "Err… uh… Lady Tyrrany! I didn't think you'd be arriving so soon!"
"Hmph…" Tyrrany came to a stop beside the cheetah and glared at him. "What's going on Reginar? Who are all of these dragons?"
"Nomads, of course." Reginar declared. "They're seeking passage across the sea to continue on their never-ending journey across the realms. It's what they do, you know, Miss."
"And why are they taking an FTC boat?" The dragoness demanded. "Did my father authorize this?"
"Well, he didn't tell me to deny them passage." The cheetah shrugged his shoulders. "All I was ordered to do was to wait in port until… someone arrived to head south." He wracked his talons on his forearm. "Not that I know why you're separated from him, milady."
"My business is my own." Tyrrany snorted. "I just want to head onto the ship and find a place to sleep for the night."
"Well, there's a room reserved, like always." Reginar nodded. "Though, your two friends will have to share a cabin with some of our guests."
"Oh, that's not a problem, Sir," Arthur said as flew around Flame's head. "We're used to it. Right, buddy?"
"Hmph. Maybe you are…" Flame snorted a bit as the dragonfly landed on his nostrils. "You could sleep comfortably in a coin purse."
"Don't get any ideas." The dragonfly snapped.
Tyrrany just rolled her eyes and stepped around the cheetah to continue up the gangplank. She briefly glanced back at the nomads as they got back into line; none of them looked too pleased with the young heiress as she ventured onto the ship's deck.
"Maybe you could have said 'excuse me,' or something?" Arthur whispered to Tyrrany.
"Hmph." Tyrrany pulled her hood tighter over her head again. "I'm getting tired."
Tyrrany felt a bit light-headed as she emerged onto the ship. She dashed over to the railing and grasped it for support. Her violin case and satchel were growing increasingly heavy; she'd been awake for far too long. And the transition from standing on land to sea was taking a toll on her balance. On a whim, she plopped her supplies down carefully onto the deck and sighed in relief as she leaned over the edge a bit.
"This doesn't exactly strike me as a great place to nap, Annie." Flame said as he stopped beside her.
"I can't help it." She snorted. She struggled to pick her satchel back up but immediately collapsed downward again. "Oh, damn it. I've been walking for too long…" She looked Flame in the eyes. "Could you… please bring my stuff to the quarters reserved for my Dad?"
"Are you sure about hanging out all on your own out here…" Flame glanced suspiciously at the lines of dark dragons. "Around them?"
"I'll be fine as long as my dad's employees are on the lookout…" She gestured around at the deck; several water dragon sailors and other cheetahs were tending to the various parts of the ship. "I think I'll be fine."
Flame sighed as he hefted up her satchel and violin case. He then grunted as he made to turn around. "Come on, Arthur."
"Alrighty…" The dragonfly landed on Flame's back. "Lead the way, big guy."
Flame just snorted and made his way forward, leaving Tyrrany to her own devices.
Tyrrany looked out across Ninn, and part of the mountains and hills just beyond. Most of the citizens that were crowding around before had wandered off into their homes; everything seemed so quiet and peaceful now. The dragoness gave a soft sigh and slumped her head down onto her forepaws. It was definitely a nice village. Maybe… maybe she'll travel back here with her father again someday, to really take in the sights and sounds properly…
"Hi." A soft voice asked nearby.
Tyrrany flinched in surprise. She stood up and whirled her head around, and saw a young dragoness seated on her haunches before her; the one who was following the gruff red drake up the gangplank.
"Are you sailing to Crossbolt, too?" The dragoness asked innocently.
"Uh… I guess." Tyrrany said.
Now that Tyrrany could get a better look at her, she saw that the young dragoness was about twelve or thirteen years old. She had a sky-blue face, and her body was mostly covered in the same nomadic robes as the other dragons. She had her hood pulled back, revealing a small tuft of maroon mane, which grew between four little horns that curled down the side of her head. The young dragoness studied Tyrrany's features with the same curiosity as her; it made the heiress a tad uncomfortable.
"I'm Lillia." The younger dragoness smiled. "What's your name?"
"Uh, it's…"
"Lillia, get over here." Called the heavy voice of a drake from across the way. Tyrrany turned in the voice's direction: It was the same dragon that spoke to Reginar before.
"That young lady clearly doesn't want to be disturbed." The dragon said as he stepped forward; Tyrrany could see a bushy maroon mane growing on his bright red chin behind his hood.
"I just wanted to say hi, Dad." Lillia frowned. "I don't see very many purple dragons around the realms."
"Indeed…" The big drake snorted as he made to stand beside Tyrrany. "So, you must be Tyrrany; daughter of Bergan. Am I correct?"
Tyrrany just sighed and looked up at him with disdain. "Who wants to know?"
"The name's Harlon." The drake snapped. "And even if your father owns this vessel, that doesn't give you the right to shove my people out of the way so you can board it."
Oh, Tyrrany just couldn't believe this; she was being lectured by some random dragon she'd never met. With a snort, she fell back onto her haunches and began to think up something nasty to say to get the dragon to leave her be…
And that was when Bergan's words repeated in her head.
"One of these days you're going to get so lost in anger that you make a grave error. And I won't be able to save you from yourself."
Tyrrany shivered. She glanced over at the dark dragon nomads, and then back at Harlon and her daughter. She was surrounded by a lot of potential enemies. With a shiver, the dragoness took a deep breath and tried to think of what to say.
"I… I apologize." She said quietly as she looked Harlon in his golden eyes. "My friends and I… we've been on the road for a very long time. I haven't had decent rest in ages; I've been… cranky." She tilted her head forward. "I, err… I mean no harm to you or your nomad tribe."
"Hmm… that's a start, I suppose." Harlon scratched his chin. "But I kindly ask that you not snap or shove around any of my nomads again, Miss Tyrrany."
"I won't, Sir." Tyrrany put a forepaw on her chest. "And I hope you all enjoy the journey to the south."
"Hmph, I certainly hope so, too." Harlon sighed. "Alright, come along, Lillia."
"Okay, Dad." The dragoness followed after her father but briefly stopped to smile at Tyrrany. "See you later!"
"Yeah…" Tyrrany shrugged her shoulders. "Later."
Harlon and Lillia walked off to other parts of the vessel. Tyrrany just sighed as she relaxed on the desk. Maybe she'd head down below for some proper rest… in a little while. For now, she was fine with gazing up at the sights of Ninn; such a beautiful, lovely little town.
Tyrrany didn't stop looking at it, not even after the vessel had begun its voyage to the south.
~~…~~
Across the ocean, on the eastern end of the realms, an impressive fleet made its way south from Faeshrine.
Saul's three warships, the FTC's trading ships, and Madam Nymph's personal vessels all cut their way toward the southern continent. The voyage was slow and uneventful; perhaps that was the best anyone in the fleet could have hoped for after so many thunderstorms as of late.
Near the start of the voyage, a single FTC vessel broke away from the fleet and drifted west. Word was sent to Flamaedelus that the vessel was needed in the township of Ninn to the west some time ago, so the red dragon didn't impede their progress.
The voyage had left General Saul feeling… anxious.
Time aboard the Red Queen was rather mundane, now that he no longer had that band of rowdy hooligans causing trouble for his sailors. Nor did Saul have Jonathan around to spend time with. Olivia barely left her quarters; that seasickness continued to turn her even greener in the face. Saul was left all alone most days, out in the quiet air to consider his options.
Sometime soon, Saul would have everything he'd need. He'd spent the last four years training every able-bodied dragon and non-dragon of appropriate age in military fighting. He'd put earth dragons to work mining in the southern mountains to gather metal and other materials to put to use forging weapons and armor. And lastly, he'd gone to work to ensure that no word escaped Aeroshard about his plans.
All it would take was one word… one foul message to fall upon the wrong dragon's ear frills… for everything to collapse. There were so many enemies throughout the realms; so many TRAITORS who tossed Saul aside, so they could ally with Elenar. If Saul's secrets slipped out, kingdoms from all the realms would be upon him in under a month, ready to pummel his meager township into submission.
Even now, Saul grimaced as he put a forepaw on his neck; too many dragons would have loved to have him beheaded for not bowing down before the High Queen. If it weren't for the help of the Faeshrine Trading Company, he never would have kept his secrets to himself.
One thing that gave Saul a bit of relief was the knowledge that Bergan hadn't declared that the liberation of Glenhaven would end in failure. From the day that the purple drake offered Saul a hand, the General took it… albeit begrudgingly at first. Part of Saul still bore a grudge against Bergan; the days in their youth had memories of humiliation and frustration, as Saul's earth magic paled before what Bergan could do. And yet… Saul always admired Bergan for his visions.
Time and time again in the last four years, Bergan offered up advice on what decisions Saul should make. And every time… Bergan was right. Saul exploited loopholes to keep his vessels sailing through unclaimed waters so that nobody could declare that the exiled drake had trespassed on their territory. Saul got his caravans of trade goods to venture through seemingly-dangerous terrain, which saved them from headaches trying to pass them through Glenhaven's territory. He even had a map with every single unmarked island in the realms, which no kingdom had claimed for themselves… meaning that Saul was now the proud owner of a string of islands, all of which had fortresses built with the banner of Aeroshard flying overhead.
Little by little, Saul was making a comeback. And once Jonathan had become co-heir to the FTC, their family would gain access to all the best trading routes in the realms. From there, he could use Bergan to exploit loopholes even further, forcing every kingdom to do business with Saul if they wanted to avoid having all of their imports and exports blocked. And then, from there….
Saul shook his head, and he took a deep breath. He was getting way ahead of himself; just because Bergan didn't foresee his defeat, didn't mean Saul had already won. After all… there was always that chance that someone else would defy Bergan, and things would spiral wildly off-course. So the General just calmed himself down and focused on his journey to Ganulha.
Keep your eyes on the prize, for now, Saul. He told himself. Be ready to take back your home.
~~…~~
After a week of sailing, the fleet finally arrived at Ganulha's docks.
The port town hadn't changed too much in the last four years. The fishing and sailing businesses still thrived, and the many dragons and non-dragons living there were filled with joy. But the most important change was to be found in the south-western section of the town; something that would make Saul's trip back to Aeroshard much faster than flight or caravans would have taken him:
A railroad. The first official railroad on the southern continent.
It was the early morning; the sun had yet to fully shine its light on the port town. General Saul escorted his still-recovering wife through the town to the railroad's platform. They were joined by Flamaedelus, and the trio gazed out upon the view of the great machine that would take them to Aeroshard.
The engine was an elongated cylinder, with over a dozen connected wheels and a mighty smokestack. It was connected to a long caravan of vehicles that were not unlike carriages in design, but much bigger and longer than any Saul had seen before. Most of the gathered dragons from the FTC were hard at work loading supplies into the back carriages, while a few citizens made their way through the doorways found near the fronts and backs of each car.
"Isn't it a magnificent machine?" Flamaedelus asked Saul as they stood side by side upon the station.
"Hmm…" Saul stroked his beard. "No matter how many times I pass through Ganulha, I always forget what it's called."
"Bergan calls it… a steam locomotive, Your Grace," Flamaedelus said with a nod. "Surely with all of the trading you've done with the FTC, you'd stop and take a look at the intriguing designs, no?"
"Heh." Saul snorted as he looked all around at all the flourishes placed upon the cylinder. There were depictions of dragons in various battle poses as they clashed against a fierce purple dragon. At first, Saul guessed it was the Guardians waging war against Malefor… but then he noticed that the purple dragon more closely resembled Lord Spyro. That just left the General wondering who was supposed to be the heroic side of the tale.
"I suppose there's nothing wrong with being stylized." He said with a raised eye ridge.
"This locomotive was reverse-engineered from designs created by moles and apes, long ago." Flamaedelus pointed a talon at the engine and gestured around at various points for emphasis. "Bergan felt that they could be re-designed and put to good use in our modern times."
"Did you say Ape technology?" Olivia raised an eye ridge. "The apes build railroads?"
"Well… in a few instances here and there." Flamaedelus mused. "Bergan has a fascination with the apes and their methods of artificially-harnessing power." Flamaedelus chuckled. "You have to give him credit: he can be very creative."
"I see…" Olivia looked up at the depiction of Spyro with a frown. "Was that his choice, too?"
"Hmm… I don't really know." Flamaedelus shook his head. "It might have been; Bergan isn't exactly fond of the Lord."
"Hmm…" Olivia gave a quick yawn. "Oh, I'm getting too tired for this. Saul, I'm going to lay down in one of the sleeping cars..." She planted a peck on Saul's cheek. "Join me, won't you?"
"In a little while, darling." Saul snickered. "I need to oversee a few more things… but be sure to keep our bed warm."
Saul hugged his wife close with a wing, which made Flamaedelus sigh. He leaned over to gaze down at the other end of the platform. His wife Melissa was standing at the end, speaking to various dragons in workers' uniforms. The dragoness briefly cast Flamaedelus a glance… and waved a wing for him to come over.
"It looks like I have some… business to attend to for a moment," Flamaedelus said to the earth dragons. "Be sure to venture forth into the vessel at your leisure, Saul… just don't forget about our meeting with Nymph later."
Saul grimaced as he let go of his wife. "And just where IS Nymph?"
"Onboard, of course." Flamaedelus declared. "She went to get a nap in with her family just before you got off your ship."
"Fine…" Saul snorted. "I'll speak with her later. For now, just leave me to my devices, Flamaedelus."
"Right." Flamaedelus sighed. "I'll see the both of you later."
The three dragons parted ways. Olivia ventured into the first of the passenger cars. Saul turned to leave the train station to speak with some soldiers. And Flamaedelus made his way down the platform beside the locomotive.
The vice president walked down along the station as the many dragons working for Saul and the FTC alike got to work loading up crates. The red dragon sighed as he saw his wife Melissa standing at the end of the tracks. The workers had left Melissa alone, though she was soon joined by the fireflies Richard and Megara. The pair carefully drifted around her shoulders, waiting patiently to hear what Flamaedelus had to say. Flamaedelus gave a soft sigh as he looked between Melissa and Megara. There was so much to get done, in so little time.
"I trust that you all know the plan?" Flamaedelus asked with a raised eye ridge.
"As if any of us would forget it," Megara replied. Richard and Melissa nodded in agreement.
"Hmph. Good." Flamaedelus sighed in relief. "Then I'm sure you know what comes next."
"Of course…" Melissa said with a nod. "Megara and I will stay behind in Ganulha to oversee the construction and distribution of the latest supplies."
"Mhm." Flamaedelus nodded.
Richard flew up to speak next. "In the meantime, we'll travel with Saul and Nymph on the locomotive, and make for Aeroshard."
"From Aeroshard, we travel with Nymph to Glenhaven," Flamaedelus said. "And once there… we keep an eye out for a black dragon."
Flamaedelus blew little flames from his nostrils. He and the other senior partners exchanged uneasy glances for a moment.
"So… that brings us to the matter of dark dragons," Melissa said with a shiver. "Do you really think that Bergan can pull off what he plans to do?"
"Of course." Richard crossed his arms. "Bergan is… well, Bergan. He'll find a way; he always does. All we have to do is wait for it to happen."
"But do we… consent to what he's going to do?" Melissa asked worriedly. "I mean… we've all had a chance to go over the plans. It seems like…" She shivered as she sat back on her haunches. "Like quite the big risk for all of us."
Flamaedelus sighed. He stood up, walked around, and patted his wife on the shoulder. "It would be a bigger risk to go against him. You know that."
"But we never really know what he's got planned." Melissa sighed. "It caught the both of us off-guard when he said he wanted Flame Jr. and Arthur to be Tyrrany's bodyguards. If she succeeds in… dealing with the high queen," her face briefly turned green at the thought of the implications, "then they'll be complicit."
Melissa turned away and took a deep breath. "Even after Bergan told us that they'd be fine… I can't just simply go along all smiles and sunshine." She wrapped her tail around her legs. "I worry about those boys night and day."
Richard and Megara flinched and looked at each other. Flamaedelus looked at them all in pity; he lightly nudged the dragonflies with his muzzle and draped a wing over his wife's back.
"Listen: I've been doing as Bergan has told me for many years." He said. "He's brought wealth and providence upon my life in ways I could never imagine back when I was a starving kid during that damn war." Flamaedelus shook his tail. "If Bergan says that our sons will be fine, then I believe him. The rest of you should do the same: Have faith in our President."
"But what about Saul?" Megara asked. "Bergan may be a patient little schemer, but Saul tends to make rash decisions. That's how he got himself exiled in the first place, after all." She flew up to Flamaedelus's face. "That fool king could throw a wrench into the gears and ruin Bergan's plans."
"I suppose that runs in the family, doesn't it, huh?" Richard patted his mate on the shoulder. "We've all heard the stories of how King Gaius went on quite the warpath during the Twilight War. Even when Bergan gave prophecies to the Order of Culmubrae, Gaius ignored his warnings. And it cost him dearly several times."
"Hmph." Flamaedelus suppressed a snort. "If Saul's going to mess things up, then Bergan will most likely see that coming. But I don't claim to know what's coming soon." He turned around and gazed out across the station, toward where Saul stood proudly still.
"For the time being, we'll just play our parts in this little game." Flamaedelus bit his lower lip. He turned his body fully around and gave a hearty sigh. "And my part… is to ride this train south to Aeroshard."
"Well… this is where we part ways." Melissa sighed. She kissed her husband and held him close. "Be safe, Flamaedelus."
"I will…" He nodded as he nuzzled her forehead.
"Good luck on your journey," Megara said to Richard. "Don't get too close to any sandweeds, you hear me?"
"Of course…" The male dragonfly chuckled.
With that done, Flamaedelus and Richard made their way down the station to board the train. Melissa and Megara turned to look out at the port town, as they each planned their extended stay in their heads. But throughout it all, each one of them wished that their mate would remain safe.
And that Saul wouldn't bring out complete and utter disaster.
~~…~~
The steam locomotive made its way down the railroad briskly and calmly. It had traveled through the desert sands for quite some time. Earth dragons spent two years solidifying tracks of sand to form solid stone so that the railroads could be built atop them. It would still be some time before they arrived in Aeroshard… but it was still faster than simply flying.
Flamaedelus sat on a cushion in the middle of one of the passenger cars. He gazed out the window of the cabin and sighed as he watched cacti and sand dunes pass on by. Richard floated a short distance beside him, doing his best to keep himself entertained with wing-related exercises.
There was a bucket of ice on the floor by the window, with a bottle of wine from some drinking glasses. And on the floor, there was a large wooden crate. It was originally kept in the storage car, but Flamaedelus ordered to have it brought to him. He'd need it shortly for a little… presentation.
"I wonder how our boys are doing." The dragonfly mused.
"Hmm…" Flamaedelus eyed Richard with a slight grin. "I could always write a letter and have you mail it."
"Sure. I'd return with their reply in about a year." The dragonfly snorted.
Flamaedelus chuckled lightly at the jest… and then sighed as he returned his gaze to the window. "I hope that Flame's crush on the president's daughter isn't getting him in too much trouble."
"Do you disapprove of his crush?" Richard asked curiously.
"Well, if it weren't for her engagement to Prince Jonathan, then I wouldn't be." The drake shrugged. "Had things been different, they might have been fine together. But… Bergan has set plans in motion for his daughter, and it doesn't look like Flame has a chance with her." Flamaedelus sighed. "The boy's likely to get himself hurt."
"Hmm…" Richard grimaced. "That doesn't sound like you mean emotionally, Flamaedelus."
"I mean physically; what else?" The dragon huffed. "You've watched that girl grow up just as much as I have…" He turned to look at the dragonfly. "Tyrrany has proven to be a very impulsive dragoness. Even though they're friends, she often verbally abuses him, and Arthur as well." Flamaedelus glowered. "I fear that one day her impulses will go too far, and she'll do something horrible to him. Something that can never be forgiven!"
"Calm down, calm down…" Richard flew down and patted Flamaedelus on the neck. "You're overthinking things. I've never once seen Tyrrany physically harm either of our boys. And she wouldn't; not on purpose at least…" he flew around to look the dragon in the eyes. "Flame and Arthur mean a lot more to Tyrrany than you realize. They've been her only friends for years."
"And she's only herself to blame for that, considering the way she treats the young staff back home…" Flamaedelus snorted.
"Well, that can't be helped." Richard sighed. "But Tyrrany treasures Flame and Arthur dearly. I can assure you; she'll never do anything to hurt them."
"Well, I hope you're right, for their sake…" Flamaedelus sighed.
There was a pounding on the door a few moments later. Flamaedelus looked up to see the familiar faces of General Saul and Madam Nymph lurking just behind the glass. The red drake sighed as he stood up; it was time for the presentation.
"Welcome, welcome…" Flamaedelus said as he opened the door. The earth drake and water dragoness carefully stepped inside to sit down upon the cushions.
"I hope we're right on time." Nymph declared. "I found that I slept for a bit longer than I would've liked."
"Well, someone like you could never get enough beauty sleep." Saul snorted as he closed the door behind them. Nymph shot Saul an annoyed look, but then just rolled her eyes as she sat down.
Once they were seated, Flamaedelus picked up the three glasses and arranged them on the crate. Richard hefted up the bottle of wine and popped the cork before carefully tilting it to fill each glass in turn. The three dragons picked up a glass each, and they held them up in a toast before they began drinking. As they did so, Nymph eyed with growing curiosity.
"So, Flamaedelus…" She glanced at him. "What do you have to show us?"
"President Bergan has recently authorized me to show you something that the R&D Division came up with some time ago," Flamaedelus said. "Within this box is but one of two prototype models, but it's guaranteed to lead the way to wealth and power in ways you've never imagined."
"You're talking quite a big talk," Saul said with a raised eye ridge. "But let's just see whether or not what you're saying is true."
"By all means…" Flamaedelus rumbled in his throat. He slid the lid off the wooden crate and reached inside. Out of the box, the dragon retrieved a large, metal gauntlet. The gauntlet was fitted for an adult drake's forepaw and was studded with various red and green gems that ran along the foreleg. With a sigh, Flamaedelus slid the gauntlet onto his right forepaw. He shifted his talons about to get a good feel of the metal as it locked into place.
"A gauntlet?" Nymph demanded in exasperation. "All that build-up for a gauntlet?"
"The gauntlet shape is for ease of wearing." Flamaedelus scolded. He carefully stood up and flexed his talons again. "Allow me to demonstrate what it's supposed to do."
Flamaedelus pointed the gauntlet toward the opposite side of the cabin, right upon a little cushion across from him. Richard flew up and out of the way as the drake concentrated on the seat with his talons outstretched. After a moment of concentration, the various gems began to glow one at a time. The light then shifted into a dark aura, which flowed across the metal and toward the circular glyph on the palm of the gauntlet.
Across the way, a small pool of darkness began to form on the cushion. And out of that pool, there came a shrieking noise as something emerged with feathered talons. There was only one, but its blood-red eyes were enough to make Flamaedelus shiver. The creature had a mostly-black body as its oily feathers fell from its form. Richard was quite impressed by the display. Nymph was even more so; she held her paw to her muzzle in amazement. Saul, however, was quickly horrified; his talons loosened and he dropped his glass to the floor.
The loud crash made the others flinch. But Saul didn't care; he hissed angrily and backed up to channel his magic in preparation for the beast's attack.
"What have you done?!" Saul exclaimed. "You've conjured up one of those… THINGS?!"
"Keep your head on straight, Saul." Flamaedelus snapped. "I can assure you that it's quite docile. Look…"
The creature sat on its haunches and clacked its beak in Flamaedelus's direction. It just sat there, barely moving an inch on its own accord. But as the red drake shifted his metal talons off to the left, the creature turned its head to look in that direction. Flamaedelus then shifted the opposite way, and the creature continued to obey.
"Remarkable, isn't it?" Richard asked.
"Indeed!" Nymph declared.
Saul stared unblinkingly at the little black beast. He could scarcely believe what he was seeing. Flamaedelus, however, just sighed as he directed the monster to flap its wings and shift its tail in different directions.
"How?" Saul demanded. "How have you managed to take control of a Crepsculus?"
"It is all through the power and ingenuity of the R&D Division of the FTC," Flamaedelus said proudly. "Bergan has invested his funds quite well."
It had been four years since the last time he'd dabbled in summoning the crepsculi. In fact, he could have done it without the gauntlet; it wasn't for him, after all. Just a demonstration to prove that the device could work. Not that Saul needed to know his full history with summoning magic.
With a wave of Flamaedelus's gauntlet, the creature stood up and flew out the window. He watched as it dashed about in a specific pattern beside the cabin; wherever he moved his gauntlet, the creature was directed to go. Saul and Nymph continued to watch in awe.
"This is incredible!" Nymph smiled.
"This is dark magic…" Saul rumbled uneasily.
"Well of course it is." Flamaedelus scoffed. "Don't you know that Bergan is quite fascinated with all forms of magic?"
"You don't have to tell ME twice." Nymph chuckled. "I remember when he tried to convince me to venture deep into the Mushroom Forest with him, on that little expedition to find the Ancient Grove."
"But this power… it's what Baneth used." Saul's brow furrowed. "He summoned a horde of crepsculi and overtook Warfang!"
"Indeed…" Flamaedelus said. He snapped his talons on his non-covered forepaw, and the crepsculi immediately swerved downward. It crashed violently into the dirt and faded out of existence shortly afterward. He then turned around and looked Saul in the eyes.
"Wouldn't YOU like to be able to summon a horde of crepsculi?" Flamaedelus asked. "Wouldn't you like to rival Baneth's power, all without having to be converted into an artificial dark dragon?"
Saul gulped uneasily. He glanced at Nymph, who looked quite eager to see more of the dark magic on display. Saul sighed in defeat; he didn't want to be the only one among his allies to not go through with this technology.
"How many more gauntlets are there?" Saul asked.
"None that are fully operational, at the moment," Flamaedelus said. "But quite a number of incomplete gauntlets have been packed up and placed on this locomotive, to be sent toward Aeroshard to undergo the final stages of shaping."
Saul sneered. "And you did this without my consent?"
"It was under Bergan's orders," Flamaedelus said. "And when Bergan tells you to do something… you'd better do it."
Saul briefly flinched; outright questioning Bergan would have been a bad move. And yet still, the General's pride felt just a tad chipped that the purple drake had left him in the dark on these gauntlets.
"As part of the arrangements, I am Bergan's equal, if not his superior." Saul gave a glare. "His daughter is betrothed to my son: I shouldn't be left out of the loop of Bergan's schemes if we're to work together to liberate Glenhaven."
"Well, sadly… you are in the dark." Flamaedelus shook his head. "In fact, so am I. And Richard. Most dragons are left clueless about the full extent of Bergan's schemes. All anyone can do is take a breath, and just do whatever it is that Bergan says." He flapped his wings. "There are some things I'm authorized to tell you, but after that, we're both going to have to wait and see what Bergan wants of us next."
"Fine…" Saul sneered. He fumbled with his talons and cursed himself for dropping his glass when he so badly needed a refill. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
"I'll drink to that." Nymph nodded as she lifted her own glass.
Flamaedelus nodded as he grasped the gauntlet to pull it off. As he did so, dust began to pour from the various sockets; the gems had been completely drained of their magic and were left crumbling into nothing. Saul snorted as he watched the dust form a pile on the floor.
"All of that power drained, just for a few moments of dark magic?" The General scoffed. "And I'm supposed to summon a hoard with that?"
"As I've said, this is just a prototype," Flamaedelus said as he put the gauntlet down. "The newer models should be a tad more effective. But for all of our recourses, all the magical testing we can do is with commonly-found life gems. But for more successful results, we require something more… potent."
"How potent?" Saul demanded.
"Convexity." Flamaedelus declared. Saul and Nymph flinched in surprise at the word, but the red drake just gave a soft sigh. "Yes, we need convexity gems. More in supply than has ever been accessed when sent on mining operations in any set of mountains across the realms."
"And just where are we supposed to get Convexity gems?" Nymph asked. "There are none in the mines in Frostwryng, I can tell you that much!"
"I don't know." Flamaedelus sighed. "I suppose that's something that Bergan is looking into himself. The only ones he'd had access to were gifts from an… associate. For now…" He put the gauntlet in the crate. "All we can do is enjoy our ride to Aeroshard."
"Of course…" Saul just groaned and shook his head. "Well, let's just keep this gauntlet idea of yours on hold, then. There's still much that needs to be focused on."
"Indeed…" Nymph grimaced. "I need to send a letter to my sister. She'll want to hear back from me soon."
"Well, I wish you the best in writing her," Flamaedelus said.
With the meeting done, Saul and Nymph rose onto their feet. They bid Flamaedelus and Richard goodnight and ventured out into the corridor. Flamaedelus then closed the door and sighed in relief as he slumped over into a cushion. Richard, meanwhile, scrunched up his face as he looked down at the shards of glass, and the wine that stained the carpet beneath them.
"What a waste…" He put his hands at his waist and grimaced. He then glanced up at Flamaedelus and winced at the dragon's uneasy expression.
"Are you okay?" Richard asked as he flew up to Flamaedelus's shoulder.
"I'm fine." Flamaedelus nodded. He looked at the gauntlet once again and then grimaced at the dust on the floor. "I'm just… worried about the future."
Richard frowned, and then sat down on the dragon's shoulder to pat his side. The red dragon was grateful, but his mood wouldn't be lightened up so easily.
It would be a long ride to reach Glenhaven. And from there… there was no telling what would happen
~~…~~
It was another late night in Warfang… and Ozul groaned as he forced himself to stay awake.
The young crimson dragon was seated at his workbench, endlessly tinkering away on his class project. His supplies were neatly arranged in every drawer. He sipped some warm tea as he picked up his hammer to drive another nail into place. He still had quite a ways to do, but luckily Ozul had a shiny new hammer to…
It was only then that Ozul realized that a chip had been broken away at the very top of the hammer. The detail was very small; almost unrecognizable… but Ozul still groaned and put his head down.
"That's what I get for dropping it on some jerk's blockhead…" He huffed in annoyance; he'd now have to remember that for the rest of his life.
Ozul sat up… and then winced as his neck flared with pain. He put a forepaw on the bandages wrapped around it. Ozul still had some bruises that were healing after the jerk had tried choking him out.
Ozul shivered as he remembered fleeing under carriages to escape falling earth spikes. He hadn't been so scared for his life in over a decade. Ozul was so ashamed; he'd nearly run away to hide rather than help his friends. Even after Master Albanion told Ozul to retreat to safety… Ozul just couldn't shake the feeling that he was being cowardly.
And so Ozul went back to join the others… and got strangled for his troubles.
Ozul's mother and sister were at first horrified at the wounds on Ozul's neck. Then they were relieved… and then Ozul's mother grounded him. Ozul had to go straight home after classes ended for the next week. And while he didn't mind having the time to focus on his projects, it still stung that he couldn't spend time with the other for a while… almost as much as the bruises stung whenever he touched a sensitive scale.
I need to just work on making bigger shadows, Ozul thought with a nod. Maybe Master Wraith can teach me how to teleport large groups of dragons…
As Ozul was rubbing his neck, there came a knock at his bedroom door. He barely had time to glance over as a crimson dragoness peered through with a frown.
"What are you doing out of bed?" She asked with a tapping paw.
Ozul slumped his shoulders. "Working on my class project?"
"Well, you NEED to work on getting more sleep." His mother said sternly.
"But Mom, there's no school tomorrow." Ozul frowned.
"That's no excuse." She pointed at the bed beneath the windowsill on the far side of the room. "Your schoolwork may be important, but it's not so important that you let it mess up your health. Now go to bed."
Ozul sighed and put his hammer down. "Okay, Mom…"
"And stop messing with the bandages." The dragoness said in exasperation. "The doctor said they have to stay for a full week if you want the swelling to do down."
"I know, I know…" Ozul said grumpily as he got up from his desk.
The dragoness kept watching from the door until Ozul had gotten in his bed and covered himself with a blanket. After that, she sighed in relief and slowly closed the door.
"Goodnight, Ozul." She said, more warmly this time. "Layla and I will see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, Mom…" Ozul said, trying and failing to smile.
His mother closed the door, and Ozul shut his eyes… only to open them again and grumble. How could he sleep when his mind kept racing with so many thoughts? He had so much stuff to work on; not just his class project, but some books he needed to read. Plus there was the looming dread of having to deal with combat classes again. Not to mention how much his neck was killing him lately, thanks to the Sons of Culmubrae. Couldn't his mom just let him work on his projects? He needed to keep occupied with SOMETHING, now that the crops were out of season.
Ugh, just thinking about the garden made Ozul antsy; he sat up to open his window and peer out at the backyard.
It wasn't much of a backyard or even a garden; it was mostly patches of dirt with some flowers growing around the edges. But ever since Ozul's family moved into this little cottage on the southwestern outskirts, they'd all taken to planting their crops whenever they had the time. It was rather barren in the summer; they'd have to wait until fall to plant their Cauliflowers. For now, it was left barren, meaning Ozul had to spend his time working with his tools… when he wasn't studying.
Ozul just took a deep breath as he looked over the backyard a few times. He could already imagine himself digging up patches, arranging the seeds, replacing his sister's flower after it was dug up by a shadowy figure, cleaning out the…
Wait, what?
Ozul blinked and looked back. One of Layla's favorite petunias was being pulled out of a pot by someone in a mask. They quickly stuffed the plant in a bag and flew off over the side of the fence.
Ozul blinked in alarm. He should have just looked away. Or maybe he should have gone across the hall to tell his mother that they were robbed… but that was Layla's petunia. It had taken her all summer long to grow it; if it wasn't put back in fresh dirt soon, it would die! And who was this jerk who could just swipe someone's flower away?!
Ozul gritted his fangs; there was only one thing he could do. He opened up his shadow and sank within, before whisking it out through the window to chase the thief.
Ozul kept his shadows going from rooftop to rooftop as he followed the mask-clad dragon as they dashed along the alleyways between buildings.
Eventually, the thief finally came to a stop near the back of a large vacant lot between several buildings. Ozul resurfaced on an adjacent rooftop and peered down angrily; just what was this thief up to?
The thief dragon removed his mask and took a gulp of fresh air; it was a solar dragon. He fell backward onto his haunches as he leaned against a trash bin. The drake snickered to himself as he reached into his satchel and pulled out the petunia… along with a bag of coins.
"Best haul I've had in ages…" He snickered as he lit up his free forepaw to illuminate the coins and the flower. "First a bit of cash, then a pretty little flower." He leaned in to sniff the center and he moaned. "Can't wait to find out what YOU taste like…"
Ozul scrunched up his face; was the thief going to EAT the petunia? That couldn't have been healthy. But as he pondered this, Ozul suddenly heard multiple pairs of paws rushing toward the lot. He hid down in his shadow and shook a bit as he watched the golden dragon hide the coins and flower in the trash bin…
~~…~~
Bulb stretched out his back as he let the scent of the pretty flower linger. He tried to look casual as he heard other dragons approaching; it figured that they were taking so long to catch up.
The last few days had been terrifying for the Crazy Aces.
Word quickly spread throughout the entire gang that Jonathan, their leader, and Kass and Mora, their two most capable fighters, had all been dragged off into the dungeons. And worse yet, patrols of soldiers began to flow throughout the city streets, looking for any signs of Bergan or any other dragons associated with Johnny. And without their leadership, the gang did what they always did in this situation: RUN AND HIDE!
At first, it was every Crazy Ace for themselves: they split off into random directions and sought any big of shelter they could from the authorities. The younger ones stuck to each other for support, but a number of the older ones ran off on their own. Sometimes there was strength in numbers. But other times it was best to divide and conquer… well, divide and pray you don't get hauled off to prison.
Bulb was the first one to have the good sense to lay low. He took the opportunity to swipe some supplies from a carriage. It was one of the FTC's vehicles, but it didn't bother him much; he managed to sneak away with a hefty bag of gold coins. What a heist!
One by one, Bulb's friends emerged from the shadows and gathered up to seek comfort and shelter in the middle of the lot. Bulb tried to look nonchalant; none of them would ever know that he'd made a killing all on his own… right?
"Okay, is everyone here?" A lightning dragon asked as he looked around.
"Of course not." Bulb declared smugly. "We're down our three best and brightest."
"I meant everyone ELSE." The lightning drake growled. "I'm not stupid."
Bulb's eyes gleamed. "That's debatable, Chester."
Chester sneered, while a water dragoness rolled her eyes.
"Keep your head on Chester. I'll just check…" She counted each of the other thugs one by one. "Alright, minus three… yeah, I think that's everybody."
Bulb rolled his eyes. "Good work, Gina."
Most of the younger teens breathed sighs of relief, but a few of the older ones gazed out down both sides of the adjacent alleyways for any signs of soldiers coming around. It was a miracle that all of them had managed to evade capture this far. But just how long could their luck hold out, really?
"Oh, geez…" An earth dragon ran his talons through his short mane. "We're in way over our heads, guys. Maybe we should never have come to Warfang in the first place."
"Hey, we were only following Johnny." The fire dragoness exclaimed. "Jonathan had a score to settle or something. Who were we to deny him what he wanted?"
"Hmph…" The earth dragon rolled his eyes. "Not all of us are willing to roll over and let Jonathan smooch us into obedience."
"Shut it, you." The fire dragoness scowled. But a few of the other thugs just laughed as the two started to argue back and forth. Bulb just rolled his eyes; he leaned over to a flora dragon and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hey, hit me up…" He whispered.
The flora drake just rolled his eyes and held a forepaw up before parting his jaws. There was a flash of green, and the dragon summoned up a small leaf. The leaf had a pale complexion and had nine leaves in a star-like pattern. Bulb smirked and happily took the plant from the dragon.
"Good on ya…" Bulb said as he pulled a pipe from his cloak. He put the leaf in the pipe, and then nudge the fire dragon across from him. "Care to help me light it up?"
The fire dragon looked at him funny, before spitting out a tiny little flame. Bulb caught the flame in his pipe and then leaned back to enjoy the scent as the leaf burned. He sighed as he leaned against the wall, as he listened as the arguing and laughter finally quieted down.
"We need to think of something." A younger thug said worriedly. "Maybe we should head back to the caravan. M-Maybe we should ask Bergan for help."
Bulb's eyes widened, and he scowled. "How about NO?"
"But he was our ride into town!" The younger dragon protested. "How are we supposed to get out of here without him?"
"Look, I don't care what the rest of you guys think." Bulb declared as he took his pipe out of his mouth. "But there's no way we're going back to the FTC caravan. We put our trust in that Bergan guy, and he let us down."
"It wasn't HIS fault that Johnny got captured." A lightning dragoness said.
"I don't care." Bulb repeat with emphasis. "I don't see Bergan showing up to get us out of a pinch."
"You called?"
Nearly all of the Crazy Aces yelped in surprise; Bergan was standing just a bit further down into the alleyway, right across from Bulb. The golden drake's jaw fell open, and he nearly dropped his pipe onto the ground. The purple drake chuckled at Bulb's expression; he brushed off his cloak and strode forward with a seemingly-friendly smile.
"H-How long have YOU been here?" A fire dragoness demanded.
"Not very long." Bergan nodded his head. "I simply had a feeling that this was a good time to come check up on you lot."
The purple dragon came to a stop beside the ice Bulb's trash can and reached inside it. Much to the golden drake's shock and horror, Bergan pulled out the bag of coins as nonchalantly as one would pick up any loose item. Bergan then stored the coins away in his cloak and turned toward Bulb. Bulb held his jaw shut; he reached within himself to create a bit of magic to make a flash bang to try and make a run for it.
"Naughty boy." Bergan declared; he then flicked Bulb on the muzzle, who flinched and dropped his pipe for real. The golden drake cursed under his breath as he leaned down to pick up the item, all while Bergan just kept walking. Bulb then looked up at him incredulously.
"You… You're not mad?"
"Mad? Over petty theft?" Bergan snorted. He turned and looked down at the solar dragon with a raised eye ridge. "I suppose you were expecting me to rain thunder down from the sky? Lock you in the stocks? Cut off your forepaw? Tell you that you were born a street rat, will die a street rat, and only your fleas will mourn you?"
Bulb flinched as the flora and fire dragons laughed at him. The golden drake lifted a wing over his head and cursed under his breath. All the while, Bergan tilted his head and gave his own hearty laugh.
"But, being a bit more serious… please don't steal from me again." The purple drake gave a face of disapproval to the rest of the gang. "Oh, and don't go running off through Warfang, either. It's been quite bothersome keeping the lot of you from betting caught by the authorities."
"You've been helping us?" The fire dragoness asked curiously.
"Of course I have." Bergan clicked his tongue. "You all work for me, after all."
"No, we don't." Chester snapped. "We're with Johnny; Not YOU."
"Shut up…" The earth dragon nudged the lightning drake in the shoulder. "Don't piss him off."
Bergan, however, just sighed. He walked up to a blank wall of the alleyway, reached into his cloak, and pulled out a piece of chalk.
"Allow me to explain the hierarchy…" He said casually. His eyes flashed with magic, and the next thing the Crazy Aces knew, an elaborate chart had been drawn with chalk upon the wall.
"You're the Crazy Aces, and your leader is Jonathan, yes?" Bergan tapped the wall beside Jonathan's name. "Jonathan is betrothed to Tyrrany, who is my daughter." The drake motioned toward his daughter, and then himself. "On top of that, Jonathan's father, General Saul, has established an alliance with me and Faeshrine. So whichever way you look at it…" Bergan drew a great, big circle around the whole thing. "You're all working for ME. Understand?"
Most of the teenagers gave uneasy expressions and slight nods of their heads. Bulb merely rolled his eyes, while Chester was downright furious.
"And what about Johnny, huh?" The lightning drake demanded. "And Kass and Mora?! They've been locked up in the dungeons beneath the Dragon Spire. Aren't you going to go save them?!"
"Well, not right this minute, no, but-"
"And why not?!" Chester continued to yell. Bergan just sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Calm down, boy." The purple drake snorted. "At this very minute, your friends are being looked after. Big things are going to happen in the dragon realms, and they'll all have their parts to play in the long term. But for NOW, they'll have to stay where they are." Bergan stamped his forepaw, and the chalk diagram disappeared. "Just rest assured that Johnny, Kass, and Mora will be cared for. All I ask, dear boy, is that you and the rest of the Crazy Aces be patient."
"So… what are we supposed to do, then?" The fire dragon asked cautiously. "We've been stuck wandering around in Warfang for days."
"Well, there's work to be done, lad. But before I continue…"
Bergan reached into his cloak and pulled out the bag of coins from before. He then pulled out an even bigger bag and a few empty sack bags. The Crazy Aces watched with growing curiosity as Bergan proceeded to fill up the bags with equal amounts of coins. And one by one, he began tossing them around to the teenagers.
"What are you doing?" Chester asked in bewilderment as he caught a bag in his forepaws.
"I'm paying you your wages, of course." Bergan snickered. "As I said, you work for me. And I never deny my employees their fair wages."
Bulb was downright dumbfounded when Bergan tossed him the very same bag of coins that he stole. He held it up cautiously; he half-expected it to be a trick that would literally explode in his face. He then glanced suspiciously at Bergan, who paused and frowned.
"What's your game, Bergan?"
"Game? There's no game." Bergan clicked his tongue again. "I'm merely doing what's expected of an employer. Surely General Saul paid you for your efforts to help his son, yes?"
The expressions of the Crazy Aces all turned dour. A few of them scratched the ground and shook their tails in frustration.
"Saul never pays us anything." Bulb sneered; he clutched his bag of coins to his chest quite defensively; he didn't even care if his nostrils ached from the scent of rotting fish from that bin.
"He doesn't?" Bergan tilted his head.
"General Saul hates us," Chester said bitterly. "He doesn't care if we live or die, so long as Jonathan is alright."
"Hmm…" Bergan scratched his beard in thought. "That certainly sounds distressing. I'll be sure to have a nice chat with Saul about treating you all right."
"He won't care, Bergan." Bulb said as he wiped off his pipe. "To him, we're just a bunch of orphans and street-thugs that Jonathan scraped together into a little posse. We're only in Warfang to be cannon fodder. And we couldn't even succeed at that!" He smacked a nearby trashcan. "Kass and Mora were our best fighters, and they got arrested! What hope do the rest of us have?!"
"Why, you have me." Bergan flashed a toothy grin. He proceeded to turn about and looked each of the young thugs in the eyes. "And as long as you do as I ask of you, you'll find yourselves living quite the fancy new highlife."
"What do you mean?" The fire dragoness asked.
"You'll understand in good time, my dear." Bergan smiled. "For now, let's start with your first new assignment: Lay low."
"Lay low?" The earth dragon repeated. A few of the Crazy Aces murmured in confusion.
"Yes, lay low. Head to the safe house, and don't draw attention to yourselves."
"Safe house?" Bulb repeated. "What safe house?"
"The one I marked on Jonathan's map," Bergan said with pursed lips. "Didn't he tell any of you?"
The Crazy Aces all exchanged curious glances, while Bulb just snorted and smoked his pipe some more.
"Does that answer your question?" He raised an eye ridge.
"I hate it when people don't do the things I tell them to…" Bergan sighed, and he rubbed the bridge of his muzzle. "Listen: Things are about to get very, very messy in Warfang, and you'll want to stay out of the crossfire. Here…"
Bergan pulled out a piece of paper and quickly wrote something down. He passed the paper to Chester, who read it curiously. The purple drake turned all around at the thugs with a serious expression.
"When the time comes for you to make a move, I'll tell you quick as a flash." He said. "Until then… don't cause any trouble for the people of Warfang."
"What was that about a crossfire?" Bulb asked suspiciously. "Who's going to do the fighting if it's not any of us?"
"I'll explain at another time…" Bergan clasped his talons together. "For now, you'd all best scurry on back to the caravan; there will be soldiers patrolling down this alleyway in about five minutes."
The Crazy Aces all exchanged uneasy glances, before turning toward the front of the alleyway and making a break for it. Of course, they all were careful not to drop their bags of coinage along the way. One of the last of the thugs to leave was Bulb; he'd stuck around puffing on his pipe until most of the others were gone. He then nonchalantly slid the lid of his trash bin to reach inside… and found garbage. Bulb grimaced and felt around. He even opened the lid more and shined some light from his maw to illuminate it. All that got him was a mouthful of smelly rot.
"Ugh…" He gagged and coughed as he patted his chest. He then snarled as he looked around the bin. "Damnit!"
"Misplace something?" Bergan asked as he stepped forward. Bulb scowled and quickly put the lid back on.
"Nothing…" He muttered and then scoffed. "You know it's nothing, don't you? You have already taken it if I'd stolen something else from you."
"Correct…" Bergan chuckled and then leaned down to look Bulb in the eyes. "And bear in mind; if you steal from anybody else, I won't bail you out."
"Is that a threat?" Bulb demanded.
"It's just a warning." Bergan pursed his lips. "And here's another one; smoking those types of plants is terrible for your health in the long run."
"So I've heard…" Bulb huffed. He then turned around, spread his wings, and took off into the air. "See you around… Boss."
Soon, only Bergan was left alone in the lot. Rather than take off, he casually turned around and gazed up at the stars.
"Well, that's that taken care of, for now…" Bergan sighed in relief. He lowered his eyes down toward the floating black fortress, and then toward the Dragon Spire itself. He nodded to himself in satisfaction… and then looked up at a rooftop…
Right into Ozul's eyes.
"Go home." He whispered. "Your mother will be worried sick if she finds your bed empty."
The crimson boy gasped as he clutched his sister's petunia in his forepaws. He then channeled his magic and zipped off through the night faster than Bergan could blink. Once the purple dragon was truly alone, he reached into the confines of his cloak. His talons traced delicately along the cover of the Lilac Grimoire.
"It's been a mess, keeping track of these silly children." Bergan snorted. "But alas, I'll need their help… once the violence reaches its worst."
Bergan strode off into the night; there was still a lot of work to do, indeed.
~~…~~
How had Jonathan let this happen?
For days, he'd sat locked up inside the deepest, darkest prison of Warfang. Those dark dragon assholes kept him alive by feeding him the finest, blandest bread and water that money could scrape out from between couch cushions. There was nobody in the surrounding cell blocks to talk to; all the Sons of Culmubrae were dragged even DEEPER into the abyss of the ruins. It was so dark; the only form of light he had shined through a grate in the ceiling, which extended far up above to the distant streets of Warfang. One of the twin moons was in just the right spot that a few of its rays shined down to light up the interior of the vile, smelly dungeon.
As for the prince's cell, it was dreadful. Jonathan barely had a sink to clean himself with, and his means of relieving himself consisted of a glorified hole in the floor: Disgusting.
The earth prince always heard stories that the prisons of Warfang were part of the series of old ruins built ages in the past… but he never expected to be trapped in one!
Jonathan was locked in shackles from muzzle to tail-tip; he could barely move, he was so restrained! Not that he had much space to move: his cell was so small that it may as well have been a birdcage.
Jonathan just couldn't believe how everything could have turned out so awful when his life was going so well! He was so close to revenge! That Cyrus punk was getting his arse handed to him! He, and Tyrrany… the pair were doing so well to deal with the black-scaled bastard! And then he just up and pulls a convexity crystal out of his arse?! Why didn't anyone tell him that it was convexity?! Bergan of all dragons should have KNOWN they were going up against convexity! Damn it all!
Kass… Mora… Jonathan sighed. They were two of his best fighters and friends. And now, thanks to their group not being warned about what they were going up against, they were trapped somewhere in the deep, dank confines of the dungeons! What was he going to do to get them free?! What COULD he do?!
They're going to drag me all the way to the south; All the way back to Glenhaven… Jonathan growled… and then a sob. He put his forepaw up to his face and traced his talons along his scars. I was so close… so close to helping Dad get revenge. And now, I'm doomed to be dragged before Grandpa Telus. It's not fair!
Jonathan collapsed in a crumpled heap. Everything he'd worked for was ruined. Now he'd never marry Tyrrany, or reclaim his role as the future king of Glenhaven. There was no doubt that Telus was going to execute him for his treason. The earth prince gave several more little sobs; all hope was lost.
And that's when a snarky voice got his attention.
"…Ugh, are you seriously going to cry about your situation?"
Jonathan picked up his head and looked around. A grey-scaled dragoness appeared from the shadow of the corridor and now loomed over his cage. Jonathan wiped his face and scowled at the dragoness.
"Go away, you dark-hided bitch." He hissed. "And tell the chef that the bread is so stale I could beat him over the head with it!"
The dragoness rolled her eyes and scoffed. "My, such manners. I can see why Bergan thought you were quite the catch for that daughter of his."
Jonathan blinked. "B-Bergan?"
"Who do you think sent me?" The dragoness huffed. She leaned forward, letting the moon's rays illuminate her features. She had a proud and regal posture and sneered down at him as she wracked her talons along the bars of the prison cell.
"Dona, of the Deep Shadows." She declared. "I've been an associate of Bergan's for years."
Jonathan blinked again. Bergan worked with dark dragons? But why? Since when? No, this had to be some kind of trick.
"Go the fuck away!" Jonathan spat at Dona's forepaws. "If that bitch Elenar sent you to play mind games, they won't work!"
"Oh please; they all think you're too stupid for trickery." Dona snorted and wiped her forepaws down on her sleeve. "But if you're going to keep up that shitty attitude, then maybe I won't do Bergan that favor after all."
"What favor?" Jonathan demanded.
Dona leaned in closer, and her eyes gleamed. "For reasons that escape me, Bergan hasn't given up on you. In fact, he wants you to get a second chance at throttling Prince Rune."
Jonathan shivered. He'd last seen Prince Rune on the day of his capture. Jonathan remembered it as clear as crystal: the black prince looked down his muzzle with smugness and satisfaction. It made Jonathan's blood boil to think that little twerp, that desert beetle, had gotten one up on him AGAIN.
"Let me out of here!" Jonathan grabbed the bars of his cell and growled. "If you're here to spring me, then-"
Dona reached into the cage and grabbed Jonathan by the neck. A shadowy aura surrounded her body as she glared daggers into the prince's eyes. He shivered all over as her incredibly-sharp talons poked against his neck muscles.
"First of all…" She brought her voice to a harsh whisper and held a talon in the air. "Don't assume to order me, the one true Shadow Queen, to pick a fucking lock."
Jonathan shivered; he would have questioned what she meant if he wasn't so terrified. He could feel her threatening to draw blood in three different places on his neck.
"And second of all…" She let go of his neck, and he gagged and groaned on the floor. "No, I'm not here to spring you free; that would be too obvious."
"Then what…" His voice was hoarse. "Are you doing here, then?"
"See, Bergan… he has this thing with games," Dona said, still whispering. She wracked her talons on the floor as she sat down. "Sometimes, a piece needs to be sacrificed and taken to the enemy's side of the board… before it can up and turn the tides by pulling a surprise move."
"What are you talking about?" Jonathan demanded as his voice recovered. "Stop talking in riddles."
"Bergan has a little present for you…" Dona reached into the confines of her robes and held something up in the moonlight.
It was a small, purple crystal.
Jonathan's eyes widened as the magic upon the crystal swirled and glowed. He hadn't seen that kind of magic in a long time, but he recognized it immediately. The prince was about to say its name out loud, but the dragoness hissed at him.
"Keep it DOWN, boy." She glared at him as she pointed at the hole in the ceiling. "Do you want the whole city to hear?"
"Wh-where did you… he…?" He lowered his voice and shook his head. "Give it to me already."
"Hold your horses." Dona snapped. "I've got orders for you, directly from Bergan's mouth. And you know what happens when someone defies Bergan's orders."
Jonathan shivered and blinked. He'd never seen it for himself, but he'd heard stories of the sorry state that dragons fell into when they disobeyed something Bergan told them to do. And one of them was his Grandpa Gaius back in the day if his father Saul was to be believed…
"What am I supposed to do?" Jonathan asked.
"This particular shard of convexity has been carefully distilled and cut from the larger whole," Dona whispered as she slid it through the bars. "You are to ingest it, but-"
Jonathan wasted no time snatching the crystal up in his jaws. Dona grimaced as Jonathan ravenously tore into the crystal, letting its magical power fill his body… except that it didn't. Jonathan blinked and looked himself over as he gulped down the shards. Nothing felt different; he was just as drained of his magic as he was before.
"Nothings happening." Jonathan glowered up at the dragoness. "The crystal's a dud."
"Let me FINISH, you moron." Dona snapped. "That particular bit of convexity was made to function on a timer of sorts; it'll slowly, steadily, fill you with its power in the coming weeks."
"Oh, great." Jonathan snorted. "That'll be just long enough to be dragged before my Grandfather and executed for my treason. A real big help that is."
"Indeed. Your newfound power will lie dormant for an undisclosed amount of time, while you're traveling in the custody of the Guardians visiting Warfang…" A smirk spread across Dona's muzzle. "You'll also be in the custody of Prince Rune."
Jonathan blinked in surprise. He sprang up onto his feet and stammered. "C-Come again?"
"Let me fill you in on the prince's tradition…" Dona chuckled. "Every half a year, he leaves Warfang to spend time with his family in Glenhaven. Two of the Southern Guardians are traveling to safely escort the prince to his foster home. Naturally, he'll be traveling with them… while they escort YOU to Glenhaven as a prisoner."
Jonathan shivered. "So… Prince Rune gets the pleasure of mocking me while I'm locked in a cell?"
"On the contrary…" Dona snorted. "Your task is to piss him off."
Jonathan tilted his head. "Excuse me?"
"Anger him. Rile him up. Rustle his feathers." Dona counted off her talons. "Do I need another euphemism to get the point across? Use whatever phrase suits your fancy, so long as the result is the same."
"Is this some kind of joke?" Jonathan scowled at her. "I'm supposed to antagonize Prince Rune for the whole trip south? What's the point?"
"Oh, I don't want to give away all of Bergan's secrets…" Dona grinned. "Let's just suffice it to say that Bergan wants Rune to be on the verge of snapping by the time he gets to Glenhaven."
"Hmph. I guess fucking with Rune will be funny enough…" Jonathan sighed. "But do I have to stay imprisoned the entire time? What happens when I finally get to Glenhaven? My life's on the line!"
"Oh, don't worry about that: Bergan's sent your little fiancé and her dumb friends on their path to Glenhaven." Dona declared. "I'm sure they'll find out you're in trouble and spring you free."
"I see…" Jonathan sighed. He sat down on the floor of the cage. Well, at least there was a chance that he'd be freed, then. Though whether that would put a damper on his relationship with Tyrrany remained to be seen.
"I guess all I can do is wait, then…" He shook his head in defeat. "And maybe by the time my convexity kicks in, I'll be able to beat Rune's face into paste." He balled his fist and struck the floor. "The little prick deserves it for all the trouble he's caused my family over the years."
"Hmph. And maybe Elenar will follow suit, too." The dragoness snorted. She rose and channeled her magic. "Well, this is where I take my leave of you, Princey-poo."
"Fine…" Jonathan blinked. "Hey, wait a minute!" He stamped his paw. "Why are you betraying the high queen?"
"Hmph. Never you mind why." Dona snapped. She began to sink into her shadow. "Just be grateful for the little boost, princey-poo."
"Hey, hold on!" Jonathan grabbed the bars of the cage. "Can't you at least bring me some real food?!"
The dragoness didn't reply; she just gave him a sardonic grin as her head phased through the shadows. And just like that, Dona was gone.
Jonathan growled at first and struck the floor. After hitting it a few more times, he eventually just sighed and slumped over on his flank. Could he trust this crazy dragoness? He wasn't sure. But if she was providing him a means to get back at Rune after all this time… and if he was stuck waiting for an escape anyway… then perhaps all Jonathan could do was wait.
Wait, and dream of a day when he could deck Rune in the muzzle.
~~…~~
Greetings, friends and loved ones.
Sorry for being late on an update: I've had some serious car trouble that drew all my attention lately. And at the time of this writing, it's still ongoing.
Most the same; just with some errors cleaned up, and some extra details put in here and there to spice up the scenery. The biggest change was adding more of a focus on Ozul; he's going to have a subplot going, you see. Other than that, the first bits of setup for Act 2 is done. Next time, there will be just a little bit more done.
Tenebra ecce Veritas.