by Paul Cude
About to open her mouth to ask about the king, staving off multiple attacks from outside the shield, directly above them, she watched gobsmacked as a gap at the top of the barrier opened and, without warning, George was drawn in, much against his will and to his great surprise. As the king crashed clumsily to the marble floor, the magical barrier again became whole, closing up and thwarting those dark dragons that were hoping to get inside. Explosions, fireballs and colourful magic rocked the huge, supernatural defensive structure, but not at any point did its integrity waver or even look like doing so. For the moment, they were safe. How long it would last was anyone's guess.
Straining the muscles in his powerful legs to get to his feet, the king, a furious expression chiselled into his prehistoric face, whirled around to see exactly what was going on. Before he had a chance to vent his anger at being so unceremoniously dumped to the ground within the shield, a huge human shaped body threw himself at the king's mighty belly. Surprised, purely because of royal protocol, it was only when he looked down to see the thick, matted, long, ragged hair of his friend that his demeanour transformed.
"It was me who pulled you through. Sorry!" announced Fredric, looking up into the mighty jaw of his friend the monarch."
"REALLY?" stated George sarcastically. "I'm shocked!"
Not knowing what the hell was going on and deeply disappointed that somebody had gotten past her to get so close to the king, Captain Battlehard fingered the hilt of her appropriated sword, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice, should she be required.
Tense for but a split second, the silence was squashed when the two long lost friends both burst into laughter, each giving the other the biggest hug in recorded history, with ribs surprisingly remaining intact.
"I'm so sorry," began the king.
"It doesn't matter, and besides there's really no time for that. Let's just do what needs to be done and get the kingdom back to where the hell it should be."
"Right, as always," declared George, releasing his friend and for the first time taking in everything going on within their little conclave.
Glancing across to the dragons he'd just been fighting alongside, he spotted Yoyo and gave him a little nod. The experienced healer returned the sentiment. Turning back round, he took in all the others for the very first time.
"And just who are these fine folks?" solicited the king, referring to Yoyo's young dragons, who for the most part had their eyes closed, helping Richie with the magical barrier.
"They're with me, Majesty. I can vouch for every single one of them. They're good dragons to have in a fight."
"I'm sure you're right, Yoyo. I look forward to fighting alongside them to see exactly what they're capable of. A full on dragon education doesn't always cover everything. Sometimes life skills are much more important."
'How the hell does he know?' wondered the master healer, all the time tending to one of the badly hurt dragons that had been fighting alongside the king.
Despite most of their consciousnesses sharing Richie's mind, nearly all Yoyo's charges started at the fact that the king knew who they were, and that they hadn't been to a nursery ring. Each of them wondered if there would be consequences of some sort, should they make it through all this.
"Peter... my boy. It's so good to see you. I'm just sorry it can't be under better circumstances."
"So am I, sire, so am I."
Disappointment replaced the joy George had briefly felt.
"Not 'sire', not today," he announced for everyone there to hear. "Today I'm George to all of you. Not king, not monarch, not sire. Today we fight as one, for each other, for our way of life, to keep the planet safe and out of the hands of evil. If we are to survive this, we can't put one being above all the rest. We have to work together, everyone as equals, including, dare I say it, our... visitors from up above. Perhaps somebody would like to fill me in?"
Having already grasped that this was the dragon king, Janice's cheeks started to glow red in embarrassment as the monarch stared at both her and Hook. She had no idea what to say, how to address him, or if there was any other royal protocol she should abide by. Being the centre of attention and stared at by everyone there was her idea of absolute hell.
Wanting to jump in, his over keen sense of self preservation kicked in once again, making him shy away from speaking out for the one he loved. Mentally, Peter berated himself for lacking the courage to stand up and tell everyone here how he felt. He knew it was wrong, but he just couldn't help it. The heart wanted what it wanted, and he wanted her more than anything in the world. Besides, he told himself, if he opened his mouth now, it would just cause a huge distraction, something they could all do without, maybe even causing some kind of rift. Concluding that the best thing for everyone was for him to keep quiet, he waited in awkward silence, hoping that somebody else would brief the king.
"I'm assured these two both have the heart of a dragon, and have played pivotal roles leading up to our rescue," ventured Fredric, clapping his best friend on the shoulder for good measure. "They're brave, fearless and inventive and without them, neither of us would be here. That should be enough for now."
"Hmmmmmm..." uttered George, not entirely convinced.
"He's right, George!" announced Richie, from what was considered the front of the shield, without turning around. "They accompanied me from the surface, helped with the rescue in Salisbridge and accompanied us here. Without them, things would have gone very differently, I can assure you. Please don't be mad that they're here. They're good people... good beings."
Scratching his huge, prehistoric, dragon chin, George considered what he'd been told for a few seconds.
"It would appear you're held in high regard by Miss Rump. Part of me wonders whether that's good or bad," he pondered, eyeing the lacrosse playing dragon whilst remembering all the reports about her that had crossed his desk. Deep down though, he knew she could be trusted not only with his life, but the fate of the planet as well. Despite sanctioning it, though it hadn't really been his decision, he still felt guilty for allowing the dragon priesthood to wipe her memory and banish her to the human world above. For whatever reason it clearly hadn't worked, and she'd been the one to come back and rescue them all. In a strange way, he thought, it kind of made sense, it having to be her.
Over the 'CRACKLE', 'BOOM' and 'THUD' of the multicoloured, for the most part unrecognisable, magical barrage constantly deflected by the energy barrier they all sheltered beneath, Fredric brought up the dragon (there were many here of course, but this was a metaphorical one, much like an elephant, only bigger, stronger, much more powerful and full to the brim with flame) in the room.
"What on earth are we supposed to do now?"
Standing right beside each other, George in his hulking great prehistoric figure, Fredric shrouded in tatty fabric around his waist that looked as though every moth in the world had taken a nibble at some point, but apart from that pretty much bare in his well muscled, shabby and unkempt human visage, both friends shared a concerned look.
"Surely we've been in tighter situations than this?" asked the king.
"If we have, I'm struggling to remember them, but I have been a bit out of it lately, with my memory not being quite what it should. You could well be right."
In the middle of the huddle of beings, an arm shot up. Everybody turned to look. This time it was Peter's turn to brighten up in the cheek department.
"You don't have to put your hand up, Peter," chastised the king, in the nicest possible way. "We're not in the nursery ring now, you know."
This amused Fredric no end.
"Speak my boy, speak," urged George.
"Why don't you ask Richie what to do? She was chosen by everyone to be the leader."
It wasn't often that the young lacrosse playing dragon's mind had cause for alarm. It most certainly did right at this very moment. What the hell was he doing?
"By everyone?" enquired Fredric, before the king could slip in.
"Apparently so," replied Peter enthusiastically.
Maintaining her focus on the shield, Richie shook her head in disbelief.
"Do tell," said George.
"After the battle at Salisbridge, all the dragons and everyone there all came together and decided she should be their leader. So far she's done a sterling job."
"Hmmm..."
"It's true. She extracted all the information out of that traitor Casey, before leading everyone up to London, splitting up into groups once here, deciding the makeup of each group."
"Whoa..."
"What?" asked Peter.
"There's more than one group?"
"Oh yes... Gee Tee took a group over to Fleet Street in an attempt to capture the crystal node and restore worldwide communications in an effort to discover the scale of things and just maybe form some kind of resistance."
"Have you heard from them?
"No one here has. I think we'd probably know if they took Fleet Street, as there would be nothing stopping them getting a message out... quite the opposite in fact."
Still siphoning off power, guiding it into their defensive barrier, Richie couldn't believe what he was telling the king. She'd heard Janice recounting most of the story to Peter after they'd first found safety behind the shield and hadn't really thought much of it. Was now really the moment to retell it once again? Surely they didn't have time for all this, and to boil down what had happened to just a few short sentences didn't do the events justice at all. In fact, if anything, it muddied the waters. As far as she was concerned, George should just go back to being in charge, because his experience alone made him the most qualified to do so, without the fact of him actually being the monarch. Unless... Oh no! Please don't tell me he's going to mention that... not to the king. PLEASE!
As it turned out, her fears, pretty trivial at a time like this, were well founded.
"There's another reason why I think you should ask Richie what we should do," blurted out Peter, almost unable to stop.
"And what's that?" enquired the king, starting to get a little frustrated at not being kept in the loop.
"She's the WHITE DRAGON!" he announced to all and sundry.
"WHAT?!"exclaimed Fredric, totally caught off guard.
"I think you must have suffered a blow to the head, my boy," concluded the king.
"It's true. I'm not delusional. I shared my thinking with Gee Tee and he believed me."
This stopped them all in their tracks.
"The famed master mantra maker thought she was the real deal?"
"YES!"
"Oh... and we all know just how well grounded he is," offered up Fredric, his face swimming with insincerity.
"Enough," barked the king, intrigued. "Tell me why you believe her to be the White Dragon and not the actual 'White Dragon', Tim."
In some ways, it was a good job Richie had been in charge of the shield because if she hadn't been, almost certainly she'd have got up and left, no matter the horde of vile beings outside wanting to taste her blood. So, blocking out all the sound from the voices around her, she lost herself in the job at hand, concentrating on nothing but the shield that continued to keep them all safe.
"To retell the story would take far too long," quipped Peter matter-of-factly. "What I will tell you is that by accident, I looked at the scars on her back. It was plain to see, once I did. I would advise you to do the same."
With those that were paying attention from Yoyo's band of young charges all holding their breaths, Janice and Hook failing miserably to come to terms with exactly what was going on, it was left to Fredric and the king to sum up just what they thought.
"You must be mistaken Peter," ventured Fredric softly. "What you say is just not possible."
"I'm afraid he's right my boy. It just can't be true."
"You've both just quoted Gee Tee's exact words."
"Then how is it he changed his mind?"
"He saw what I saw."
"Really?"
"Really!"
Tired, weary, wounded, with his supply of magic running low which in itself made him cranky, George had never seen his friend's grandson with as much conviction as he had now. While he didn't think it at all possible, he was totally convinced that Peter believed it to be true with every atom in his body. And that left him with no other choice. It was a good job there was nobody from HR about.
Plodding across the busted marble flooring, which only that morning had resembled an ancient Italian masterpiece, the king rocked up directly behind Richie as she continued to hold Aviva's laminium dagger outstretched in her hands, the intensely powerful magic flowing throughout her entire body. Opening his right hand, he studied the tip of his index finger, watching intently as a razor sharp nail about four centimetres long popped out from beneath the surrounding scales, looking like an elegant assassin's dagger.
Asking forgiveness from whatever deity might be listening at the time, not really believing that any such beings exist, with one swift vertical stroke of his right arm he tore her shirt in two and watched as both halves drifted off to their respective sides. As light from a dozen fireballs exploding against the barrier and a brief spattering of fizzling fiery rain drizzled all around them, it brought into being the stark contrast of the scars on the young dragon's pale, human shaped back. Instantly the king stepped back, shocked, exhaling sharply as he did so.
"Amazing!" was all that Fredric could be heard to say.
A collective intake of breath from all Yoyo's charges echoed inside the confined space they shared.
Yoyo turned to take a look.
"Well I'll be..." he uttered.
Janice and Hook stood there, mouths wide open, wondering what the significance of a dragon carved into Richie's back was.
Peter looked on, having seen it all before, convinced beyond any doubt that he was right. His friend was the White Dragon, and had been so all along. It was never Tim, always her.
Stock still, facing the nightmarish beasts that continued to blast all sorts of magic at them, Richie could do nothing but face the reality of the situation. She knew that one of them would take a look, but hadn't suspected they'd all get a peek. Not one to be easily embarrassed, after all, being the life and leader of a lacrosse team meant lots of banter and practical jokes, and given that she was more than able to hand it out, she'd been taught a long time ago by her human lacrosse mentor, if that were the case, then she'd always better be able to take what came her way in return. Here and now though, she just felt ashamed and afraid. After what had happened during the course of the last few days, it was the last thing she needed. Hands starting to shake just a little, her composure began to fracture, with all the terrible deeds that had happened coming back to haunt her. Torturing and killing Casey, killing the evil dragon Troydenn and worst of all Tim's death at the hands of Manson's devilish dad, washed through her. Tiny cracks and fissures began appearing in the energy shield that kept them safe. Everyone froze, knowing they'd be dead in about two seconds flat if the barrier came down around them now. However, they needn't have worried. A most unconventional rescue was underway right at that very moment.
"Wow!" stated one.
"How cool is that?" ventured another.
"That is the most brilliant thing I've ever seen," cited one of the young females. "I wish that was on my back."
And so it continued, with all the young charges in Richie's head chipping in on the conversation, each utterly clueless about the effect they were having on the superstar lacrosse playing dragon.
Listening to the awe with which they described the injuries she'd sustained to her back, broke the spiral of despair she threatened to get sucked into. Hearing the youngsters express genuine wonder, surprise and admiration transported Richie out of the dark and back into the light, ridding her of any embarrassment she might temporarily have felt, at the same time shoring the shield right back up, much to everyone's relief. In true Richie fashion, and while still having her back to everyone else, she quipped,
"If somebody could do me up, that would be just great. It's starting to get a little chilly."
It was enough to break the awkward silence, and without further ado, George released a little of his magic from the top of the razor sharp finger, which immediately knitted the young female's garment back together. Everything was back as it should be, except for now each and every one of them considered her to be the White Dragon from the famed prophecy. Would that fact be enough to spare their lives, and could she save them from the surrounding doom?
Pumped full of adrenaline, Flash let out the mother of all rallying cries, whirled through the air above Vasuki and sliced yet another attacker in two, his long, razor sharp talons all but taking off a dark dragon's head, only a few exposed strands of sinew holding it in place as it hurtled towards the ground. Instinctively he doubled back on himself in a confined aerial somersault, something that took absolute precision and guidance, so much so that most highly trained dragons couldn't perform it. But because of his specialised training... he could. Confusing the next two opponents to close in on his position, without breaking sweat he zapped one with brilliant zigzagging bolts of luminescent pink energy, the pure, ethereal power instantly rendering the monster incapacitated, another hulking beast sent spiralling to the deck, as he turned to face the other head on. With an almighty 'CRUNCH' their jaws met and their prodigious prehistoric bodies tangled up with each other as they rolled through the air. Despite the dark dragon's smaller body, she was feisty and agile enough to cause Flash more than a few problems. As their jaws locked together, each tried frenziedly to bite the other, their huge curved teeth clashing, rattling their massive mouths, stretching the almighty muscles in their necks almost to breaking point. Withdrawing his head sharply, the ex-Crimson Guard swiped her across the eyes with the tip of his wing, hoping to distract her briefly in an effort to gain the upper hand. It didn't work. Closing her dark, prehistoric eyelids, she let out a piping hot burst of flame which immediately had the effect of blinding and temporarily distracting Flash. Following the supernatural sixth sense that had almost always kept him safe in battle, Flash smashed his mighty head against his spirited foe, catching her with a glancing jab to the jaw. It was enough for her to release her grip and tumble just out of reach. Ignoring the pounding in his head, he used the power in his gigantic wings to bring his thick, spiked tail around, hoping to catch her with another blow. Pulling an extremely tight turn, the murderous female just about managed to avoid what would have been an absolutely devastating stroke by the ex-Crimson Guard. With his exposed back to her, for a split second he proved to be vulnerable. Using a dark spell from an array that she'd only been taught quite recently, the aggressive female conjured a curled up, barbed line of spiky, shadowy energy, and released it towards Flash's exposed rear, mimicking the way a human whip would work. Slapping against the scales across his back above the point at which his tail joined, the deadly, sparkling energy flayed scale and skin in a long line, causing our hero to cry out in agony. Sadistically satisfied, Flash's opponent took her eye off the ball, at least momentarily, and with his training telling him now was the time to strike back, he did so in spectacular fashion. Rolling around to face her head on, the words in his head, backed up by unshakeable willpower, imbued his dragon form with not only strength, but a transitory burst of speed, in effect turning his whole body into a battering ram. One moment he was there, the next he was gone, his prehistoric form moving so fast that none of the magically enhanced beings on the battlefield could see it. Most importantly, neither could his enemy. Colliding into her midriff, it was Flash's turn to feel momentarily satisfied at the sensation of bones and organs shattering into a million pieces. With a howl like that of a dog with its favourite lickable body part trapped in the garden gate, the female dark dragon drifted off towards the marble surface, her face a contorted visage of torture.