by M. Arcturus
The ground troops were doing their job perfectly, for nearly all of the dragons were drawn from the archers to the battalion below. Hissing and flaming, they fought tooth and claw. The elves and pirates dodged the onslaught of dragon tails and faced their opponents’ opened jaws. Once the dragons’ attention was redirected, the archers got the nets ready. The gryphon riders climbed aboard and waited patiently.
The ground troops jabbed at the dragons, teasing them with multiple spears. This type of teasing produced no laughs on either side of the war. The spear runners were merely luring the dragons step by step toward the buried traps. To watch the event was like watching a dance. Three steps forward, two steps back while dodging dragon tails laced with sharp armor. Many lives were lost this way by the pummeling of the dragons’ tails, but their goal was minimal dragon deaths, and from that standpoint, it was working.
The scouts watched from above and waited for the moment when the dragons were on the inside of the markers they had left in the sand, letting them know where the traps were and when they were ready to be sprung. Within one wing beat, the first dragon was into place. Nervously, the elven scout signaled the archers. Like a rainbow arcing across the sky, the net draped over the dragon. The trailing end of the net nearly went past the dragon’s body. Thinking quick, one group of spear runners dropped their spear and lunged at the net keeping the dragon trapped. The dragon thrashed all about, sending elves and pirates flying, but the net, though weak, did its job. It denied the dragon the leverage to lift off into flight.
Once the net fell, the observing ghost-like Oberon stood up with the rest of the trapping team and chased behind their commander, the other Oberon. They didn’t have a moment to spare as they rushed out and pulled the sides of the box up out of the sand and started to push them upright. Those with powdered hands ran to the front lines to secure the netting, risking everything to tighten the net around the dragon. The elves used magic to keep the net in place as they quickly moved out of the way, so the trapping team could finish rising the sides of the box. Then they used their abilities to dissolve any excess net, so the sides of the box could be sealed properly.
Even though he was nothing more than a ghost to the events, he chose a spot right next to himself and helped push. Their muscles strained as they groaned, but they were able to encase the first dragon. Locking the walls into place, they looked overhead.
Not waiting for another second, the riders flew out with a lid. Securing the capture, the riders lowered themselves from the gryphons by rope and quickly locked the lid down. Even the fire from the dragon’s mouth could not melt the magic-encrusted box. The flames turned the edges of the air holes black, but the box withstood the heat. However, over time both Lord Oberons knew the boxes would not hold, but it at least bought them some time. Oberon scanned the beach looking for the next box to help construct. His ghostly form put his hands on his knees, panting. He had been through this event before. He grimaced but reminded himself that the other Oberon was still full of energy for his war had just begun. For the present moment, every box ready to be pulled out of the sand was erected and already tended to. This allowed both of them to stand there and think.
The Lord Oberon from his memories was strong, and seeing a group in need, had just run off to help with another box, while the other Oberon felt useless as the world played out before him. Snow started to fall. He knew right away that the ice dragons, which had been attacking the palace, had made their way to the shore. Boxing up the dragons in the sand was hard enough, but he remembered what it was like when ice appeared out of nowhere. Trying to push the boxes closed while skating on ice was not an easy task.
The ice formed under their feet like icy hands reaching out in all directions, and that wasn’t the half of it. Some of the troops actually had their hands frozen to the spears or to the metal boxes. They became prime targets for the other dragons. One flick of their tail sent the spear runners one way and their iced hands off in another. It was nothing for another to see a box or spear with frozen hands still attached to it when they were about to use the item themselves. While closing up the boxes, he had seen numerous times a pair of hands frozen to the box only mere inches away from his face starting to ooze blood. His other self had no clue what he was in for. The screams, people being torn apart, the blood spilt, the deaths, so many memories he just didn’t want to have.
With one last look at the devastation, he silently wept for the fallen on both sides of the war. It was sad to think that this was only the beginning. He never wanted any dragons to be hurt, but he had to protect his men and the welfare of Atlantis. For one brief moment, he questioned why he was defending Atlantis. Could the isle be healed of its toxic ways? He had no time to think about it. He must remain focused on the war at hand.
The energetic Oberon ran to Jarrah’s aid. It was obvious that the trapping crew Jarrah led contained the runts of the elven guard. The smallest elf Oberon had ever seen was trying to lock down one of the sides of the box. In the cold air, his muscles strained, but it just didn’t seem like it was enough. Those holding the net were starting to lose their grip, fighting against the strong, feisty dragon. They didn’t even have a chance to cast a tightening spell as they struggled with the net. The sand glazed beneath the little elf’s feet, making him lose his footing, and he fell down onto the new patch of solid ice. Oberon was nearly there when one of the elves securing the net let go to help the other elf lock the box. It was a gamble, but there really wasn’t another choice. Either the box was going to give way, or the net was going to be disintegrated by the dragon’s flame.
At the last moment, the elves managed to enchant the net and got out of the little elf’s way. The little elf got back up on his feet, and together with the other elf, they locked the latch. A large, strong, armored ice dragon landed behind them. With his icy breath, he froze them, and with the spikes of his arm guard, he ran the little elf through and slashed the other one with his tail. With his powerful claws, he ripped open the metal box literally destroying two of the four walls, which in turn released the other dragon. He cut through the trapping team with his spikes and mechanical tail like a hot knife through butter. Elves were ushered to the spirit world quicker than the speed of light. They hung like ornaments from the dragon’s battle gear. It was too late to do anything for them, but Oberon was not going to let the ice dragon, maim or devour any more of his troops. The earth started to rumble as Oberon rolled up his leaves and summoned the strength from the deepest earth. With the earth’s energy, he created an energy ball, which was even larger than his own body. With all of his vigor, he shot the massive energy ball at the dragon.
The force of the contact pushed the dragon up on its hind legs, threatening his balance. With a roar, the dragon pushed all of his weight back down, and with a loud thud, the sand shifted wildly beneath his claws. Something strange happened that Oberon had never seen before. The dragon’s scales started to give off steam as they turned from blue to red. He arched his neck back, ready to flame. Oberon covered his face with his arms, preparing for the worst. The other Oberon walked up beside him. Not even concerned for his other self, he just stood there watching to see what happened. He had missed out the first time around for he, too, had covered his face when the event took place.
Campanula had seen the power struggle from high in the air riding on a gryphon. She had been scouting out the war all night, dodging dragons and directing the sword-wielding troops on where they were needed the most. Now with Oberon in trouble, she rounded up five spear squadrons and had them charge the dragon from five different directions. They slipped and slid on the ice as they ran toward their target. Only a few of their spears broke the dragon’s skin. Yet the few spears that were driven into his skin made the dragon wail out painfully. The elves running the spears, which didn’t make contact, dispersed to help the other teams drive the long spears in deeper. The dragon sounded an alarming cry as lava-like blood spouted from its mo
uth.
He started to lash out, clawing at the spears and ripping at the spear runners. When that didn’t help his situation, he turned his attention to Oberon, who was standing there amazed. Oberon’s arms were no longer covering his eyes, but they were still close to his face ready to shield him again. The ghostly form of Oberon had kept his calm composure and watched the skies looking, waiting for the other attack on the dragon, which substantially saved his life. He knew he missed the first attack on the dragon because he was covering his eyes, but the second attack, he wasn’t sure what had happened. This time, he was determined to see his savior.
Cocking its head back to flame Oberon, Campanula spurred the gryphon to circle around for another attack. This time, she would need to get her hands dirty. She pulled Resheda’s hand cannon from its holster. The gryphon screeched in protest. “I’m sorry my friend, I don’t see another way.” A tear formed in its eye as it tilted its head as if it wanted to hide it under his wing. Anatomically, it couldn’t happen during flight, but it sure had to fight the urge to land and cover its head. “I know you don’t want to watch the outcome, and I also know that you don’t want any part of it, but if you don’t mind my friend, could you at least get me close to the dragon.” The gryphon flew past not allowing her near the dragon. The dragon let loose its flame missing the agile Oberon by a hair.
Once again, the dragon arched its neck, ready to flame. Campanula could tell that this was the last of its strength. Dying in agony would be all that was left of the brave scaled hero unless Campanula was able to pull off her plan. “Whether or not I shoot him, the dragon is still going to die. I would much rather end his suffering than to drag it out slowly with the last few drops of his blood.” In dismay, the gryphon flew back around. Campanula stood on its back, once close enough to the ground; she jumped off and ran under the dragon’s jaw. For one brief moment, it looked down at her with big, sad, wide eyes just as she whispered, “I’m sorry.” With snowflakes in her eyes, she fired. The shot sounded far off in the distance, but the ringing in her ears was deafening.
His eyes closed peacefully as his massive head started to fall lifelessly to the ground. The gryphon swooped back around. With its talons, it clutched at the dragon’s brow and pulled it back buying Campanula more time to get out from under the huge falling jaw. She turned to run but tripped, stumbling over a pile of elven bodies and twisted her ankle. The gryphon let go quickly, gliding down under the falling jaw and plucked her out of harm’s way.
In an instant, there came a brilliant golden light and a deafening screech. Everyone in the air and on the ground was stripped of their sight and hearing. No wonder he wasn’t able to see his martyr. He wasn’t covering his face; he was blinded. His sight came more quickly to him the second time around. His other self had fallen to the ground out of surprise by the blinding light and had just stood up to dust himself off, but neither one of them would forget what they had seen in the sky. They both looked up and saw two comets, one gold, and one green, sail across the sky. Could it be? Phoenixes still exist! More trailed far behind them. Maybe they did still have hope.
Out of nowhere, his face was hit by cold seawater. He remembered helping seal up some more boxes, but he didn’t recall any memories of being soaked by cold, smelly water. “Oberon, wake up! Move back! He’s coming around.”
Through blurry vision, Oberon looked into his friend’s eyes. “Jarrah, you’re still here!”
“Of course, I’m still here! One might ask if you are still here.”
“What happened to me?”
“Your wife called at a very bad time. The side of the box you were pushing up gave way while you were distracted and hit you pretty hard on your temple. You’re lucky that you’re not dead.”
As Oberon sat up, the medic elves backed off and headed out to the battlefield to attend to other people. Jarrah had brought him to a clinic tent. The canvas was rolled up on the sides so that he could look out into the chaos. As red as blood, the sky was lit up with fire. Atlanteans, elves, and pirates scurried about. Some were screaming as they ran around in flames, others were frozen solid. Very few still wielded swords against strong, scaled adversaries. It looked like doomsday.
“Are you sure I’m the lucky one?” Oberon asked as he placed a hand on the side of his head, trying to massage the pain away. “How many more boxes do we have left?”
“None,” replied Jarrah. “And the worst part of it all: the dragons are freeing the ones that we have already boxed up. There’s just too many of them.”
The sound of shaking rattles interrupted their conversation. From all sides of the tent, they were surrounded by a small clan of fifteen young dragons. They were no more than three feet tall. From the top of their heads to the tip of their tails, their scales shimmered from green to blue with red stripes. Oberon and Jarrah had never known a dragon to have a rattle like a rattlesnake, but there the dragons were, shaking their rattles in anticipation as they stalked their prey.
“Oh, come on!” Jarrah shrieked to the sky. “By Dhakhan! This has got to end!” With bodies riddled with pain and fatigue, Oberon and Jarrah engaged the young dragons in combat.
With the latch shut behind them, Anthony felt isolated from the love of his life. Just standing there, burying his head in his arm as it rested on the door, he wasn’t quite sure how long he had stood. The others had long since left down the maintenance shaft. He could feel their eyes look at him periodically from over their shoulders. He shut his eyes and listened to the silence.
“Help me,” came a faint cry. The voice was so tiny and small. He almost didn’t hear it at all.
He dismissed it and turned back to his thoughts. A tiny sob once again tugged on his ears. He couldn’t ignore it now. Following the sound to the wall on his right, he pressed his ear against the cold, hard surface. He wasn’t going crazy. There was indeed the sound of a little girl. He couldn’t pinpoint where she was, but what came next baffled him and instilled urgency in the situation. In the pipes overhead, he heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet. He knew the girl was not going to be alone for long. It was obvious that her cries had not only caught his attention, but the intrigue of something else. He couldn’t tell what.
“Pandora!” he went chasing after the group. They were only a few corridors down. Pandora stopped dead in her tracks, but the others ignored him and continued down the hallway. Out of breath, he stopped before her. “There’s a girl.”
“What?”
Panting, he tried to speak again, “I heard the voice of a young girl. She needs help. If we don’t get to her soon, she’s going to have some really interesting company.”
“What kind of company? Good or bad?”
“I’m not sure. It depends on what produces the pitter-patter of tiny feet inside the pipes. It could be a bunch of rodents, dragons, who knows! If she is in the dark, stuck in one of those pipes, and there’s a herd of creatures headed her way, she’s going to need to get out of there. We have got to find her fast!” Seth had backtracked to join the conversation. Icarus stayed close to the group, but was quiet for once, thinking only of Selené.
Seth spoke up. “Don’t listen to him, Pandora. He’s just hearing things. Go back to the door and mourn, Anthony. Leave the searching to the rest of us.”
Pandora looked at Seth with disgust. “I can’t believe you! If it was me that you had to leave behind and the last moments you had with me, I couldn’t hear, and my eyes were burnt closed, wouldn’t you care?”
Seth’s exterior softened. “I would. I would care, but I wouldn’t stop my mission to weep like a pansy.”
“You stopped your search for legal evidence pertaining to the trial to free me from the jail. What’s changed since then?”
“Well, in the jail, no one was with you. At least Anthony knows that Selené is in good hands. Plus, that was before—” He let his sentence trail off. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned.
> She touched his shoulder, but he shook it off. “Seth, what changed?”
“When we were in the garden, and you couldn’t keep quiet, you could have gotten us killed. There are times when you just don’t think.”
Pandora felt offended, “so you’re going to let one situation taint your feelings for me? How could you? How could you base me—base your feelings for me—on one incident?”
“After what happened in the garden, if you were injured like Selené, I would question if what happened to you took place due to your own lack of judgment. That’s all.”
“You are so insensitive!”
“What? What did I say?” Seth didn’t know how he had offended her.
Pandora started to walk away when she heard something. The guys kept whispering to themselves.
Anthony’s whispers got louder, “What would it matter how Pandora got hurt? The point is, she would be hurt. She loves you and would hope that you would miss her as much as she would miss you.”
“I guess I’m not that in tune with my wussy side,” Seth said as he smiled and patted Anthony on the back.
“Seth, I think I got it.”
“You get my logic?”
“Oh, I got your logic, but I don’t follow it. Although, I just thought of something that might put things in perspective.” The guys ignored Pandora, who had walked up to the wall, trying to make out what she was hearing. “How many times have you gotten hurt by showing off?”
“Plenty of times in my youth,” replied Seth.
“Even though you would have gotten hurt due to your own fault, Pandora would still be there for you. People make mistakes. The question is, would you still be there for her?” Seth’s defense dropped, and he averted his eyes. Anthony continued, “You know, it’s sad—guys like you. Trained for war, see a lot of death, and get told to suck it up. You lose touch with your ‘wussy’ side, and then some of you fall in love. Still keeping to your cold logic, you lose sight of what you have until it’s gone. You probably won’t ever understand her or her feelings until she either leaves you or dies. So, what’s it going to be? You haven’t lost her yet, but just keep it up. You’ll get in touch with your ‘wussy’ side real quick.”