We are now at double digits in terms of chapters posted, which is an important milestone in my view. This chapter also marks the end of the story's first arc, which feels great, as much as I loved this arc. I appreciate everyone who's reading this tale - I got four new followers in the two days since posting the previous chapter, and that's immensely gratifying.
I'll try to slow the updates down after this, but no guarantees. So please, enjoy!
Current music: What The Water Gave Me - Florence + The Machine
Walking home that Tuesday I felt conflicted, and I think Skipper and Lucy noticed that look plastered across my face. Yes, I put on a brave face, but I'm pretty sure my companions were able to perceive my fear of the unknown. That is, after all, a near-universal worry we mortals have, even if few of us are willing to admit it.
I was still sneezing quite a bit. To make matters worse, about halfway home my left shoulder, which had already been subject to a dull, constant pain, suddenly flared up.
Lucy dashed to my side. "What's wrong, Barrett?" she asked.
I grimaced, getting to my knees so that I didn't throw up or pass out from the pain. Now that the "excitement" of the fight, if you could call it that, was over, the agony made itself known.
"My left shoulder is killing me" I mumbled. "I think that bronze Scizor scratched me - it must've done more damage than I realized."
Skipper frowned. "You didn't seem to be in that much pain when we left school."
I glowered at my roommate. "Do you think I'm faking it?"
"What? No!"
"Believe me, I wish I were faking it" I mouthed, another jolt of pain enveloping the wounded area.
"I'm sure," Lucy said softly. "Let's get you to the doctor - I'm sure he can figure out what's wrong."
The pain was so bad that I could barely stand up straight. As such, I had to be supported on the right by Skipper and on the left by Lucy. Coupled with my red nose, I probably looked as though I'd gotten totally wasted and was being walked home from the bar.
Finally, we reached Wildebush Central Hospital's emergency room, where several patients sat around, moaning. I realized that many of them had been in my Gym class that day, which made sense.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" Lucy offered.
"Oh…" I mouthed. "Well, if you don't have anywhere else to be…I guess that's okay."
Arceus, how the hell am I so awkward? That can't be blamed purely on being different.
"I'm afraid I can't," Skipper muttered. "I'll have to go home and tell my mother what happened, and that you'll be a bit late."
"But…" I began. I was going to say, But the school day normally wouldn't be over yet, so it's not like I'm later than usual. Of course, that was a bit too technical, and it wasn't relevant anyway.
I'll give the ER staff credit, they saw each patient in an expeditious manner, diagnosing and treating them for their injuries at a rapid pace. Finally, it was my turn, and as I stood up, red spots danced before my eyes.
When the doctor greeted me, I saw he was the same mint green Dragonite who'd treated me after my disastrous solo expedition. The doctor gasped at the sight of my shoulder.
"Oh my, Barrett. You're getting in trouble time after time, aren't you?"
I rolled my eyes. "It wasn't by choice, you know. Not this time."
"I don't think you expected the 'pyramid scheme' to go as poorly as it did, but that hardly matters. Come back here with me, and let's have a look at your shoulder.
"By the way," the doctor continued, "what are you doing here, Lucy? You don't look sick or injured."
"Oh," Lucy replied. "I'm just here to keep Barrett company. But I'll stay in the waiting room if you'd like."
"That would be preferred."
The doctor, who told me his name was Clancy, took me to one of the exam rooms and sat me down. Then, he pulled my wing upward, a motion that nearly made me throw up from the torture it induced.
"There's quite a bit of blood here under your wing," Dr. Clancy noted. "I apologize if you're squeamish."
"I don't care" I muttered through gritted teeth. "Just tell me the truth. How badly hurt am I?"
"Well, it doesn't look as though you have an infection. I'm just going to clean the area so that you don't get an infection."
I wasn't prepared for just how much that process would sting. I must have shouted "Kelly Clarkson!" or something similar, because Dr. Clancy raised an eyebrow. But the most important thing to know is that my shoulder felt like it was on fire, and I kicked the edge of the examination bed several times.
When the sting finally subsided, Dr. Clancy pursed his lips. He did so in the way that adults usually do when they say something like: Well, I have good news and bad news. What do you want to hear first?
"Tell me the good news first" I muttered.
The doctor smiled, but it was clearly forced. "The good news is that you'll be able to fly again."
It was a relief, almost joyful, to hear that. I pictured myself spreading my wings and soaring out of that hospital, good as new. I did not believe in "faith healing", but it would seem little short of a miracle to recover so rapidly. Unfortunately, I was brought back to the center of the Earth swiftly when Dr. Clancy spoke again.
"There is bad news, though."
I can handle it. But my opinion didn't seem to matter to the doctor, because he didn't ask me whether I wanted to hear that bad news.
"That won't be for two weeks."
It took me a few moments to process what the doctor had just told me, and what it meant. "I can't fly…for two weeks?"
"Yes."
"Dammit!" I bellowed.
At that moment, I could have punched Dr. Clancy to the ground, so furious was I with the universe. It did not matter how immoral that would be, nor that it wouldn't get me anywhere. Frustration flooded me like a shot of adrenaline to the heart, and I just wanted to take vengeance against the bad news. I needed to let my rage out somehow.
Dr. Clancy didn't injure your wing, though. He's merely telling it like it is. And if you try to attack him, you're likely to hurt yourself further.
That was the logical side of my brain, but as I stared wild-eyed at the doctor, I very nearly let the impulsive, emotional side of my mind win out.
"You're not going to be hostile, are you?" Dr. Clancy asked testily. "Because if you are, we have ways to make you cooperate with doctor's orders."
I pictured myself getting tranquilized and restrained by a bunch of ropes, or whatever else they used to prevent disturbed patients from hurting themselves. And I knew immediately that I wanted nothing to do with that.
"No," I sighed. "I'm not going to be hostile."
"In that case," Dr. Clancy continued, "you may go. But remember, no flying for two weeks. Not that you'll want to once you hold your wing out too far and realize how much it hurts."
"Thanks" I muttered, sarcasm likely evident in my tone.
I greeted Lucy in the waiting room, where I delivered the news. To my surprise, she didn't seem shocked.
"That's happened to me before" she mouthed. "I've broken my wings once or twice."
"How did that happen?" I wondered aloud. "Did you fight a bunch of bronze polygons in the gymnasium?"
Lucy laughed sadly. "No."
"Then how did you…?"
"There are some things that are too personal to have answered, Barrett. Do you really want to know?"
On some level, I did, but I could also tell that asking would make Lucy feel uncomfortable. That was one of the many tips we'd been given during our "social lessons" at the Institute - I remembered it this time.
"Forget it" I muttered. "Forget that I asked."
We finally arrived at Skipper's home, where Angela stood on the porch. She'd evidently been waiting for me, judging by the fact that she waved when I approached. But she grimaced at the sight of my shoulder.
"Skipper told me what happened," she said with a sigh. "I'm so sorry. That must be downright awful, right after you got your wings too!"
Way to make me feel better about it, Angela.
"But not to worry," Angela continued. "I'll make sure to treat you well until you heal. And you will heal, in time."
Yeah, I'd rather heal in NO time, but okay.
Skipper and I sat in the living room as Angela poured us some mango juice and baked cranberry cookies. During the process of cooking, I noticed that Skipper's mother appeared on edge somehow, as though she, like Dr. Clancy, had both good and bad news to share. And I wouldn't have to wonder for long what that news was.
"So," Angela announced eventually, "I know that your school's gym was attacked by a group of bronze beasts. News travels fast in Wildebush, after all."
"Right" I said blankly, looking at my poor shoulder once again. Despite the disinfectant that had been applied to it, the area was still a sight for sore eyes.
"I can't imagine what it's like to have to fight for your life like that" Angela continued. "When I was your age, we didn't hear about any of that stuff. It's practically unheard of."
Somehow I knew one thing: Angela was not necessarily deceiving us, but she could hardly be telling the full truth either.
"The municipal government of Wildebush has sent around its news bulletin," Angela continued, "which says that a town meeting has been scheduled for Friday afternoon. That's where this matter will be discussed, and the village will vote on what actions to take or not to take as a result."
"Well, I'd hope we do something," Skipper muttered. "Because we can't let such a threat go unanswered. We just can't."
"Of course not, Skipper," Angela assured her son. "We're going to do something. I just don't know what that something is yet."
"Are all of the villagers invited to the meeting?" I asked. Where I'd grown up, you needed to be eighteen to vote, not that the powers that were at the Institute would have bothered getting us registered. (They probably saw us as beneath such democratic ideals of political participation, but that was neither here nor there.)
"Yes, you are. Both of you. And it's very important that you attend, Barrett, because you can give a firsthand account of what happened. I think such testimony will be valuable."
"Okay" I mouthed, breathing a decently-sized sigh.
Angela looked as though she were about to voice some concern - perhaps I didn't seem eager to speak? - but she refrained from doing so.
"I mean, I'm sure I can do it," I stated. "It's just that I'm not the best speaker. Never have been."
"We all start somewhere" Skipper pointed out. "I'm sure Mayor Ammy was once just as nervous as you."
My face flushed. "I'm not nervous. I just think they might not take me seriously. I'm not even seventeen!"
"So?" Skipper asked rhetorically. "We need to stop pretending that adults are the only ones with anything worth saying."
Angela snorted. "Boys…".
"It's true, though," her son protested. "Right?"
"I suppose it is," his mother said with a smile. "But we should trust the mayor's wisdom. She's the matriarch of Wildebush, after all, and she didn't get there just because."
I cleared my throat. "So should I prepare my remarks beforehand?" That's practically Step 1 on the WikiHow article for "How To Show You're Nervous Without Saying You're Nervous.
"Well, I don't know," Angela muttered. "Whatever works best for you."
Eventually the cranberry cookies were ready, and I wanted to enjoy them. I really did. But they sank to the bottom of my stomach like stones, the dough itself tasting rather like sawdust.
School was canceled for the rest of the week, which is the sort of thing many children and teenagers would celebrate. Wouldn't most people want extra free time during which they weren't shackled by endless homework assignments?
Well, having a lot of free time is all fun and games until it's too much free time. While the school remained a crime scene, I stayed holed up in the house with Skipper and his mother. (Though Skipper had not been in the gym during that battle, he was courteous enough to refrain from taking to the skies for the time being. I'll give that to him: He didn't rub it in.)
Of course, I had homework. We both did. But that in itself didn't take up enough time to make up for the absence of classes. As a result, Skipper and I spent most of the rest of our time playing board games with Angela.
Let me tell you: Board games are only exciting temporarily, and only when you play them by choice. When you have nothing else to do, they're a way to kill time, nothing more, nothing less. We played a few rounds of Monopoly's Inner World Edition, which made me wonder where the Pokémon had gotten the idea for such a game. When I voiced this wonder aloud, Angela looked at me as though I were from another planet.
"What do you mean, where did we get the idea? And where did you get those names like Ventnor Avenue and Park Place?"
"Nothing," I muttered. "It's just…I feel like I've seen this game before."
Fortunately for me, I think my hosts came to the conclusion that I'd gone stir-crazy from being cooped up in the house for so long and unable to spread my wings. They didn't ask me anything further, which enabled me to merely hope that I could avoid landing on one of Skipper's hotels.
"I don't get this game" I remarked eventually. "I land on a hotel, so I have to pay rent."
Skipper looked confused. "What do you mean, you don't get it? That's how the game is played. If you land on a space owned by another player…".
"Well, yes, but what if I'm not interested in staying at the hotel? Or at least, not interested enough to shell out $2,000 for a stay by the Boardwalk?"
Skipper rolled his eyes playfully. "Well, that's not how it works. Don't try to apply logic to board games - it never ends well."
"Whatever" I muttered, rolling the dice and landing, predictably, on one of Skipper's hotels. After paying the rent, I was nearly destitute, and it wasn't much longer before I had to resign from the game.
Aside from board games, there were a number of novels present in the house, such as Explorers of Sky and Zoroark's Pendant. Since neither of those titles interested me, I didn't pick either up; I just knew they existed. (Then again, I guess beggars can't be choosers in terms of entertainment.)
Finally, Friday rolled around.
The day started like any other day in Wildebush. I woke up and remembered why there were dark curtains in front of the windows, then got off my futon and brushed my fangs.
I entered the kitchen, where Skipper and his mother were in the process of making breakfast. This morning it was pineapple and mango pancakes, the sort of dish I would have found positively delectable under any other circumstances.
"Good morning," Angela stated as soon as I walked in.
"Morning" I mumbled. But why was I so nervous? (All I knew was that the pancakes didn't look so appetizing due to my stomach churning at the thought of that afternoon.)
"Today's the day," Skipper said. "Buck up, Barrett; you need a decent breakfast."
Oh, right. Today's the day I'm testifying.
Truth be told, after a couple days of absolute boredom, it almost seemed like the town meeting would never come. I'd basically lost track of time, even if I knew that I would be giving a speech on Friday.
"Are you going to write a speech?" Angela asked me. "It might hurt to do so given your shoulder."
"I'm fine."
My shoulder was still bothering me a little, but the pain was far milder than it had been the first day, unless I stretched the arm out too far. Besides, I was right-handed (or right-pawed?), and my left shoulder was the injured one. So I could write just fine if I wanted to. Of course, flying would be a different story.
"Are you sure?" Angela replied. "It might help ease your nerves. Or you could channel that anxiety into further preparation?"
I forced a smile. "I think I'll be okay."
If my reluctance to eat my breakfast was any indication, though, I didn't believe myself in the least. The flapjacks were objectively delicious, but they were just like the cranberry cookies from Tuesday - impossible to enjoy properly given current events.
Between breakfast and lunch, we played yet another game of Monopoly - there was just nothing else to do! And lunch was as inedible as breakfast had been, at least for me.
Finally, it was time to go to the meeting. According to Angela, it would be held in the village's amphitheater.
"There's an amphitheater here?" I wondered aloud. "How have I never seen it?"
"It's about a quarter mile into the woods," Skipper explained. "Whenever things are calmer, we sometimes have bands there. Billy Talonflame, CountDown and the Ring-a-Dings, Beacon, Probe, and Shovel…the list goes on and on."
"Wait a minute…there's a band called Beacon, Probe, and Shovel?"
Skipper nodded. "Truth is stranger than fiction sometimes, isn't it?"
During our walk to the amphitheater, I saw Wildebush seemingly more crowded than it had ever been during my time here. Seriously, it was as though I'd stepped into a river of dragons - what seemed like half the village was headed for the same place, and I could not have walked out of it if I'd tried.
Some minutes later, the amphitheater came into view. It was in the middle of the forest, and it was clear that as little greenery as possible had been cleared for its construction. There were even a few bushes on the benches, which made the reason I'd never noticed it before a little less of a mystery.
The three of us sat together in one of the upper rows; we didn't end up having much choice, simply because there were so many villagers present. Most of them were Charizard and Charmander, but there were a few other species present. It might literally have been half the village facing the stage.
If this had been a concert, the mood would have been festive, with many of the villagers pumping their fists in the air like a President after surviving an assassination attempt. They'd probably be singing along to one of those songs by CountDown and the Ding-a-Lings, or whatever band Skipper had mentioned.
But the general feeling here was nothing like that. Instead, the villagers sat quietly as Mayor Amaterasu gracefully lumbered onto the stage, grimly facing her constituents.
Come to think of it, I realized, I'm the only white dragon in the audience. I'm one of only two here if you count the mayor. The whole village is going to notice this before long, ESPECIALLY SINCE I'M GOING TO SPEAK!
"Good afternoon," the mayor announced coolly. "As you all know, as the mayor of Wildebush, I have a certain obligation to be transparent with my constituents. A public office is a public trust, and the villagers of Wildebush put that trust in me when electing me Mayor. So I'll cut right to the chase.
"This past Tuesday, terror struck our village. Or at least, danger - I am not yet prepared to ascribe a motive for the attack on the gymnasium at Wildebush Central School. Even in a crisis, precision of language is important.
"The events of Tuesday," the mayor continued forcefully after clearing her throat, "are likely etched in the minds of all villagers. Rightfully so - it is the sort of event that stays with one for a long time, especially if one experiences it firsthand. Nonetheless, I will remind you all that despite the attack by the bronze polygons striking at the heart of Wildebush, there were no fatalities among villagers. The only creatures that lost their lives were the fighting polygon team."
She actually said fighting polygon team, wow.
"The residents of Wildebush are probably wondering what happens next, and I do not blame them. What will we do about the Beastly Burden?"
Even if the mayor had expected a response from the crowd, none was forthcoming. If anything, the audience remained even more silent than they were before, focused intently on the stage in the vague hope that Ammy would say something, anything to break that silence.
"Let me phrase it a different way, then" the mayor continued testily after more than a minute. "If any of you have any suggestions on what we should do, then feel free to come forward. If not…".
"Wait" I piped up.
I wasn't loud enough to attract everyone's attention right away, but a sizable percentage of the villagers faced me. Slowly but surely, more of the audience seemed to realize that they were looking at the white Charmander for a reason, and so they too turned in my direction. Soon enough…
The whole village is staring directly at me. This is the worst!
"Yes? Barrett Charmander, is that you?"
She singled me out by name. Oh my Arceus…what the hell am I going to say?
I froze in place, quite an achievement considering my usual propensity to rock back and forth. I weighed my options, but none of them were good.
Should I say something? Spill all the beans right now during my testimony? Or do I just admit that I made a mistake?
Meanwhile, Skipper was digging his elbow into my uninjured right shoulder, and Angela gave me a slight glare. The seconds were ticking away; in reality, I doubt it was more than thirty seconds until I worked up the courage to speak, but it felt far longer.
"Then we will continue…".
"Wait!" I repeated. "I wanted to testify!"
"Well then," the Mayor announced. "Come on down!" She said it jovially, almost as though she were saying, You're the next contestant on The Price Is Right!, or something to that effect. That wasn't what I'd expected from Amaterasu, and I wasn't sure I appreciated it.
I tiptoed down the hill to the stage, during which time I became aware of just how wobbly I felt on my feet. I thanked my lucky stars that there was some shade - if not, the sun would have burned me to a crisp. (Well, more so.)
"Speak loudly" the mayor whispered as she stepped out of the way. "And don't be afraid to carry a big stick either."
Uh, I'm not sure that's how that quote goes, but you're welcome?
I sighed, swaying back and forth as I grabbed the microphone. I'd scarcely noticed the mic during the mayor's speech, because Amaterasu's tone was like that of a sun goddess - soothing, yet forceful at the same time. You could hardly tell that her voice was being projected artificially.
And then I saw the audience I was speaking for, and I nearly screamed. The only thing stopping my nerves from getting the better of me was the knowledge that I'd only embarrass myself further by doing so. Better to go for the gold.
"Hello everyone," I announced weakly. "My name is Barrett As-, I mean, Barrett Charmander, and I wanted to…talk to you about my…lived experience on Tuesday."
Right away, I knew I'd fucked up. You don't even need to look too hard to spot my error. But I continued speaking, hoping nobody would notice my Freudian slip that could have revealed I wasn't originally from the inner world.
"To many of you, such an attack is an event that…happens to someone else. But it happened to me a few days ago. I've got the injuries and…allergies to prove it."
A few of the villagers visibly chuckled at that line, but I was in no mood for humor. Neither, it seemed, were most of my audience - many dragons glared at the few who'd made light of my situation.
"Continue, Barrett," the mayor told me blankly.
"Well," I said, "I was in the gym playing Hunger Games dodgeball. For those who don't know, that means we were all trying to knock each other out of the game. We were all tributes, I guess…just like we were all tributes for the beasts that stormed the gymnasium in the middle of the game."
Many of the villagers gasped. But I wasn't done yet.
"They were bronze," I continued. "But they weren't made of bronze. I don't know what substance they were, but you just had to slash them once or twice and they'd dissolve into nothing but dust. And we needed them to be dust, but it was hell on my nose."
"Maybe tell them about the panic? What did it feel like to be in that gymnasium when all the bronze polygons were attacking you?"
I shivered, mentally recalling the way the door was pounded like crazy as the bronze army stood outside. In the seconds before the door gave way, I remembered wondering whether this was part of Zen's scheduled curriculum or not.
Why am I even up here? Why didn't Zen, or any of the other students in that gym, volunteer to speak? Why is it just me?
"Barrett? Are you still with us?"
"Yeah" I mouthed. "Basically, we were surrounded by these bronze beasts who'd interrupted Gym class - the Fighting Polygon Team, as Mayor Almaty - ".
"Amaterasu, or Ammy for short" the mayor corrected, pursing her lips.
"Sorry, Mayor Ammy. Anyway, we fought like hell to survive. All of us - I was about to be cut down by a Scizor. I was getting tired, then Minch of all dragons…Minch Charizard…saved my sorry ass."
Nobody in the crowd seemed to bat an eye at my use of mild profanity. I think they would have agreed that we had more important worries at the moment.
"Why is it so stunning that Minch Charizard saved you?" the mayor asked me, which damn near stopped my heart.
"Uh…" I mouthed, scratching the back of my neck with my good arm. "Nothing. It's just not what I thought would happen, that's all."
"Well, a friend in need is a friend indeed. That's what they say" Mayor Amaterasu responded bluntly. "I'm certain Minch wanted to protect you somehow."
Maybe he did, just so he wouldn't lose the chance to torment me later. I doubt Minch and I will ever be friends.
Nonetheless, my face was burning like a wildfire. I might have given my speech without totally falling to pieces, but that didn't make it any less awkward to stand up there and let the whole village see me for who I was.
And they don't even know how I got here.
Suddenly, a purple Charizard banged his fist against the ground, growling at the same time. "It's a hoax!" he yelled.
My mood collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been snipped apart. Mayor Ammy, too, looked as though she'd just learned of a major betrayal against her. Both of us stared at the audience, my mouth likely agape.
"What do you mean, it's a hoax?" I shouted eventually. My mental celebration of success had clearly been premature, to say the very least.
"Well," the purple Charizard began, "where's the footage of it? And if there is footage, how do we know it wasn't fabricated?"
"That's ridiculous!" I snapped. "How could it be staged like that?"
"Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence" the naysayer in the crowd muttered. "Just because you say something, that doesn't mean we have to believe it."
"I will not tolerate conspiracy theorists at our town meetings!" Mayor Ammy boomed, her voice like a clap of thunder. It could have served the same purpose as defibrillator paddles as far as I was concerned - she was standing up for me.
I gave the mayor a grateful nod. Thanks, I wanted to say. But I also couldn't help but wonder why some random purple dragon had decided to promote such a conspiracy theory.
"Thank you for your testimony, Barrett," the mayor told me. Then, turning to the crowd at large, she made the following announcement:
"If there is anything Tuesday taught me, it is that although many of our societies in the inner world are at odds, the fact remains that we very often need each other. There's no reason why we shouldn't offer and ask for help from surrounding nations - in this case, we will need to do the latter."
The crowd let that sink in; minus the conspiracy theorist, of course, because he was removed from the premises.
"So!," the Mayor proposed. "I suggest we send a pair of emissaries to a nearby city and ask for aid."
I frowned. Emissaries? For obvious reasons, I was afraid to utter that word aloud in the form of a question - this wasn't Jeopardy.
"By emissaries," Mayor Ammy continued, "I mean that I'll travel with a trio of ambassadors. They will be ambassadors of goodwill to the city of Emperor's Garden."
Angela raised a paw, seemingly ready to object to that proposal. If I'd been paying attention, I would have seen this as a sign that she knew something I didn't. A truth that would have horrified me to no end if I'd been aware of its veracity.
I gulped. "Who will these ambassadors be?" I asked the mayor.
The audience began chatting amongst themselves, seemingly torn as to what they wanted the answer to be. Who would the mayor propose?
Mayor Ammy smiled. "Well, I've got someone in mind. He's standing right in front of me."
I took a step backward, then went stiff as a board. "Me?" I gasped.
"Yes, you. Barrett, you want an adventure, don't you?"
"Uh…I guess I do," I muttered. "But I don't know if…I can't fly, you see." Not for…eleven more days. Man, I'm counting down the MINUTES.
"That's fine!" the mayor insisted. She couldn't have been young, so I found it surprising that Ammy seemed so gung-ho at the prospect of a treacherous trek through the jungle. But looks could deceive quite easily.
"I'm going with him!" a familiar cerulean dragon bellowed from on high. Skipper stood on his tiptoes so as to project as much height as he could; from that position, he basically radiated authority despite only being sixteen.
Angela looked ready to smack her son upside the head. How dare he risk so much on the journey, especially when I was already doing so?
"It'll be fine," Skipper insisted. "I can get Lucy and Copper to join us, and it'll be like a party!"
Mayor Ammy snorted, a sort of laugh that carried no humor. "You can take Lucy or Copper, Skipper Charmander. I think three is enough for a quest like this, especially when you have me as your chaperone. I'll make sure there's no underage drinking in Emperor's Garden, at least among my three charges."
Skipper rolled his eyes. "Chaperone, shmaperone. Why do we need a parent with us?"
The mayor didn't look pleased at Skipper's mockery, but she didn't lash out at my roommate either. "Well? Does anyone else want to join Skipper, Barrett, and myself on the trip to Emperor's Garden? We have room for one more."
"I volunteer as tribute!" Lucy exclaimed from the topmost part of the amphitheater. She lifted one of her wings, then leaped upward and flew to the stage at considerable speed. And by "considerable", I mean "almost fast enough to create a sonic boom."
When she landed, Lucy grimaced, but she was smiling again within seconds as she faced the crowd as one of the "tributes." A few of the dragons were even cheering for her, and rightfully so.
I wish I had the courage to volunteer for this mission. Instead I'm being dragged along like a sack of potatoes.
"You too, Skipper!" the mayor barked gravely. "You're going on this trip too, aren't you? Come on down!"
From this vantage point, I couldn't tell if my roommate had buyer's remorse about agreeing to the trip, but it was too late for him to back out without looking like a chump. So he also flew down to the stage, though at a far slower speed than Lucy.
Jesus, why do they both have to flaunt their wings while I'm stuck on the ground?
The four of us stood before the audience, who proceeded to give us a standing ovation to rival the end of that Star Wars movie when the Death Star had been blown up. Many of the dergs were cheering, and I forced myself to partake in their optimism.
After all, us three teenage dragons were capable in our own right. Lucy could fly at near-sonic speed, and Skipper was better than me at the games played in Gym class. Hell, I wasn't completely useless - I'd defended my friends from that giant spider last week, and held my own against the Fighting Polygon Team. In other words, what could go wrong?
As I would soon learn, however, the answer was "a lot."
