by F. P. Spirit
A storm of flame erupted from that point, the white dragon disappearing with an excruciating roar. The fiery hemisphere swiftly expanded outward, catching both the red and blue dragons with its edge. The smaller red dragon hardly flinched, but the blue dragon leapt away, roaring in pain.
A few seconds later, the flames winked out. The ice dragon had fallen to its knees, its white scales smoking and singed from the fiery blast. Three pairs of serpentine eyes then fell upon the elven wizard, all filled with dark malice.
Glo struggled to maintain his composure, his arms moving in practiced arcs as he swiftly readied another spell. Just as the dragons prepared to pounce, two blurs shot from the trees on either side of the clearing, one red, and one blue.
Cyclone landed on the back of the blue dragon, the long, sharp halberd buried deep into the creature’s spine. Lloyd had flashed past the red dragon, his black blade leaving a deep gash along its upper torso just below the neck. Thick red blood spurted from the wound as both dragons let out roars of pain.
The blue dragon proceeded to thrash around, trying to buck the dragon hunter off its back, but Cyclone’s muscular legs were clamped on tightly, his halberd buried deep. No matter how hard the blue dragon tried, it could not shake the determined hunter.
At the same time, Lloyd spun swiftly around to face the red dragon. The angered creature lunged forward and snapped at him, but Lloyd slashed its snout with his razor-sharp black blade, opening another gash across the dragon’s jaw. The dragon flinched, pulling back quickly from the red warrior.
Meanwhile, the white dragon had risen to its feet. It cast a wicked glare at Glo, then swiftly spun about to snap at Lloyd. Glo had to do something fast, but his friends were in too close for another ball of fire. The elven wizard halted his spell and pointed a finger at the ice dragon, two words swiftly passing his lips. “Radius Ardens.”
A red-hot beam of light leapt from his fingertips and flashed across the clearing, catching the white beast square in the side. The dragon halted in its tracks, roaring in pain as smoke erupted from the point of contact. A scorched circle swiftly fanned out from that spot, the white scales around it turned black and blistering.
The white dragon spun back around, and fixed two malevolent eyes on the elven wizard. Glo took a deep gulp and prepared for the fight of his life.
Donnie remained frozen in place as the huge ghostly dragon bore down upon him. The great jaws drew closer and closer, blotting out everything from his field of view. In moments, his life would end with one giant snap. Yet something nagged at the back of his mind—something wasn’t quite right. What was it?
The sandy-haired elf chided himself. Think, Donnie! Think!
Where had this huge dragon come from in the first place? There was no way something this big could have hidden in the woods. Yet they weren’t in the woods—there was nothing around him but a barren landscape. Had he been teleported somewhere? No, Donnie had experienced teleportation before. There was always a feeling of disorientation after instantaneously traveling a long distance. That meant he was still in the woods, and this was all just… an illusion!
The realization struck Donnie just as those impossibly huge jaws closed upon him. Abruptly they faded away, and he was back in the meadow. On the other side of the table, in the direction he had been headed, stood a dark-bearded figure in royal blue robes. The wizard was looking straight at him with an expression of disbelief.
Donnie immediately recognized what had happened. The wizard had been able to see him even though he was invisible. He had observed Donnie sneaking around the Princess, and had cast a spell to kill him.
Donnie was livid. The contemptible wizard had immediately resorted to lethal force. Yet before the elf could move a muscle to react, his attention was drawn across the clearing. Loud roars erupted from that end of the glade, where three young dragons were engaged in battle. Cyclone sat astride the blue dragon, while Lloyd slashed the red one, and Glo fired off a scorching beam at the white. It was a brutal encounter—someone would end up dead if it wasn’t stopped soon.
The Princess Anya was not five feet from where Donnie stood, watching the battle with a fierce intensity as she held Elladan, still in rabbit form, tightly against her bosom. Her attendants were also fixed on the battle—no one paying any attention to Donnie except for the loathsome wizard.
Donnie reacted immediately, bolting forward as the wizard let out a strangled cry. “Watch out!”
It was too late. Donnie covered the space between himself and Anya in less than a second. The Ruchan swiftly appeared in his hand as he grabbed the Princess around the waist and brought the dragon-scale dagger up to her throat.
Donnie held the Princess in a tight grasp as he spun his head back and forth and cried out in a loud voice. “This is a lightning dagger! One move and your Princess gets fried!”
Anya’s attendants all turned to glare at him, their expressions a mixture of anger and surprise. At the same moment, the Princess dropped Elladan. The little grey bunny fell to the ground and bit the Princess in the leg, then scampered away under the table.
“Ouch!” Anya cried. “That wasn’t very nice, Elladan.”
Donnie tightened his grasp around Anya’s waist and neck. “Don’t worry about him, Princess. Call off your dragons now before anyone really gets hurt.”
A soft giggle escaped Anya’s lips. “Very well done. You ‘Heroes’ do live up to your reputation.”
Donnie arched an eyebrow at her comment, but did not let up. “That’s all well and fine, Princess, but first call off your attack, and then we can talk about reputations.”
A satisfied smile spread across Anya’s lips. “Very well.” She raised her voice and shouted across the clearing. “Stop!”
The three dragons froze in place, the white and red slowly backing away from Lloyd and Glo. The blue one sat completely still, even with Cyclone’s halberd still stuck in its back.
“But Princess…” the blue-robed wizard cried, his eyes filled with concern.
Anya turned her gaze toward the dark-bearded man, and fixed him with a hard stare, her voice like steel. “I said stand down, Sigfus.”
She swiveled her head all around, and added. “That goes for all of you.”
The wizard backed away, his expression chagrinned, though his hate-filled eyes were still fixed on Donnie. “As you wish, Princess.”
The other attendants backed off as well, though the scarlet-clad redhead remained the closest. Anya then turned her head to the side and spoke to Donnie.
“You can drop the knife now.” A mischievous grin crossed her lips. “Of course, you don’t have to let go of me, if you don’t want to.”
As Donnie’s knife dropped away, Anya snuggled into his arms. The slight elf began to blush furiously, something no woman had been able to do to him in ages. Donnie enjoyed the warmth of her soft body pressed against his for maybe a moment longer than he should have, then he let his grip on the Princess go, and took a step backward.
Anya spun around and gazed at him, her eyes dancing with amusement. She looked him up and down and said, “My, you are a handsome one as well. I hope you enjoyed our little embrace as much as I did.”
Donnie struggled to maintain his composure. This Princess Anya was more than a handful. He covered his discomfort by introducing himself with a deep bow. “Donatello, your majesty, at your service. I meant no disrespect, but my friends’ lives were at stake.”
Anya continued to appraise him, a slender finger going to her chin. “Oh, you’ll do. You’ll all do.”
She spun around, and with a negligent wave of her hand, yelled across the clearing once more. “You can all go now!”
The red and white dragons turned to look at her, then slowly spread their wings and lifted off the ground. Cyclone carefully removed the long shaft of his halberd from the blue dragon’s back and
dismounted, his weapon held ready just in case. Yet the blue dragon paid him no heed, instead unfolding its wings and lifting off the ground to join its comrades.
The three young dragons rose into the air, then spun around and shot away in the direction of the airship a few miles south. Anya then spun back to Donnie, stepped forward, and placed a slender hand on his chest.
“Satisified?” she asked him in a playful tone.
Donnie cleared his throat. “Ahem. Well… um… yes, your majesty. So then… do you want to explain what this was all about?”
A small giggle escaped the Princess’ slim throat. “Oh. This,” she said, spreading her hands out to either side. “This was just a test. As I was telling your friend Elladan earlier, I need you to do something for me.”
Donnie’s face scrunched up into a skeptical expression. “Really? And what’s that?”
A coy smile spread across Anya’s face. “I need you to destroy the Colossus.”
In the Wrong Hands
So, you are still mad about thhe whole rabbit thing.
Lloyd Stealle fought for his life against the young red dragon. The creature was fast, Lloyd barely able to deflect its maw with each assault. He had sliced it a few times now, leaving deep bloody cuts across its jaw, but the wounds he had inflicted thus far had only served to further anger the beast. The dragon had not yet tried to breath fire on him, but Lloyd knew it was only a matter of time.
The creature’s long neck snapped toward him again with amazing speed, when a voice rang out from across the field. “Stop!”
The dragon’s head came to a screeching halt only a couple of feet from the red-clad warrior. The long neck then slowly retracted, the dragon’s gaze turning toward the source of the voice. Lloyd chanced a quick glance in that direction, and saw a slender blonde woman, dressed in black, being held from behind by Donatello. The sandy-haired elf had a knife to her throat. A moment later he let her go, the young woman spinning around to face the slight elf.
Lloyd snapped his eyes back to the red dragon, but the creature stood its ground, its gaze firmly fixed on the woman in black. The young warrior swept his eyes across the field. The white dragon had done the same as the red, and the blue dragon now sat docilely with Cyclone still sitting on its back. Lloyd exchanged a glance with the pair, Glo with an eyebrow arched, and Cyclone’s expression impassive.
Back across the meadow, Donnie and the young woman were locked in an earnest conversation. A moment later, she spun around and waved her hand at the dragons. “You can all go now!”
The red and white dragons immediately obeyed, unfurling their large, bat-like wings and slowly lifting off the ground. The blue dragon followed suit as soon as Cyclone leapt off its back. The three young dragons then took off toward the airship hovering in the sky south of the meadow.
Lloyd slowly sheathed his swords and strode over to join Glo and Cyclone, both of whom wore wary expressions. Lloyd’s brow was furrowed, the young warrior totally perplexed by the sudden withdrawal of the dragons. “Anyone have any idea what just happened?”
Cyclone let out a short snort. “Humph. I think that nut job of a Princess just happened.”
Glo gave them a short nod. “I agree. Donnie had her by the throat, but she didn’t appear the slightest bit worried. Perhaps Elistra was right.”
Lloyd’s eyes narrowed. “You mean she was testing us?”
Glo shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.”
The trio marched as one across the field toward Donnie and the Princess. Several other folks surrounded the area—her retainers, most likely. Lloyd’s gaze swept across them—there was a man in blue robes, a woman in white, another woman dressed in scarlet, a third woman carrying a bow, and one last woman, garbed in black silver-studded leathers.
Lloyd’s eyes settled on the woman in black. From her carriage, and the two silver-hilted swords that hung from her belt, she was most definitely a warrior. The black-clad warrior sized him up with a burning intensity in her eyes. Lloyd found himself suddenly itching to test himself against her, but this was neither the time nor the place.
A clapping sound drew his attention away from the female warrior. The Princess Anya of Lanfor applauded as they drew closer, calling out to them in a welcoming voice. “Well done. Very well done.”
The trio drew up in front of the monarch, Donnie shuffling around to join them. Lloyd cast a quick glance at the others, then responded to the seemingly irrational Princess. “Thank you, your majesty, but I’m not quite certain what we did.”
Anya laughed, the sound like tiny bells ringing in the meadow. “Why, you are just too modest.”
She reached up and flipped the end of her long blonde hair over her shoulder as her amber eyes fixed on him, and slowly looked him up and down. “You must be Lloyd—Stealle is it?”
Lloyd suddenly felt very uncomfortable. He shook off the awkward feeling with a low bow, not taking his eyes off the Princess and her attendants. “Yes, your majesty. Lloyd Stealle, of the Penwick House of Stealle.”
She continued to eye him with a smoldering stare. “My, my, you are a handsome young lord, aren’t you—and it’s Anya. You may call me Anya.”
Anya’s gaze swept across the four of them. “In fact, you all may.”
At that moment, the squire, Lamorn, crawled out from under the table, holding a little grey bunny in his arms. He gazed around uncomfortably, edging his way over between Lloyd and Glo.
Glo gave the young squire a reassuring smile, then responded to the Princess with a nod toward the furry little creature. “That’s very gracious of you… Anya. Now, would you mind?”
Anya’s eyes fell on Glo, lighting up with recognition. “Ah, and you must be the elven wizard… Glolinda, was it?”
Donnie snorted at the mangled way she had mispronounced Glo’s name. Glo arched an eyebrow at the slim elf, then turned back to Anya and executed a short bow. “Glolindir Eodin, of the Elven House of Eodin, at your service.”
Anya cocked her head to one side, her hands going to her hips as she eyed the elven wizard up and down. “You are a tall one for an elf—and rather blonde.”
A thin smile graced Glo’s lips as he shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Um, yes. Well, that is fairly typical for a Galinthral elf.”
Anya’s brow knitted, her slim nose scrunching up into a serious expression. “A Galinthral elf?” She cast a brief glance at the man wearing the blue robes. “Sigfus, I thought you said they were extinct.”
“Evidently not,” the sour faced man replied, casting a dark look at the elven wizard.
Lloyd nearly choked at the callousness of the exchange. They were talking about Glo’s people as if they were some sort of endangered species. Glo, however, did not seem fazed in the slightest by their insensitive attitude. He met Sigfus’ dark stare and responded coolly, “We have merely been secluded away from the world for the last few hundred years or so.”
Anya’s eyes narrowed. “And yet, here you are—the first Galinthral elf to be seen in ages.”
A slender finger went to her pointed chin. “One has to wonder the reason behind this sudden appearance.”
Glo’s expression remained stoic. The elven wizard glanced once more at the little grey bunny in Lamorn’s arms. “That is a discussion for another time, I’m afraid.”
Anya followed his gaze, a pert smile gracing her pouty lips. “Yes, of course. I liked him better the other way, anyway.”
Lamorn bent down and gently placed the little rabbit on the grass at his feet. The Princess then waved her hands around in a practiced circular motion, a single word falling from her lips. “Dimissionis.”
The little rabbit abruptly began to grow. The ears shortened, the arms and legs elongated, and the grey fur disappeared. Moments later, Elladan was standing before them again. The elven bard slowly
dusted off his white outfit, then turned his gaze on the Princess, flashing her a half-smile. “I thought we were friends, Anya. Now what did you have to go and do that for?”
Anya raised a slender hand to her bare upper arm, and rubbed it as she gazed at the handsome bard. “Oh, my dear Elladan. We are friends. As I promised, not a hair on that gorgeous head of yours was harmed.”
Lloyd shifted uncomfortably on his heels. He was getting tired of this all this banter back and forth. “But you still haven’t explained what this was all about, Anya. Can you please get to the point?”
Anya shifted her gaze back to Lloyd, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “A man of action. I like that.”
She waved a hand at the table behind her. “Very well. Please come sit with me and I will explain everything.”
The Princess spun around on her heel and waltzed over to the head of the table, gracefully planting herself in an ornate mahogany chair. She looked up at the companions with a sickly sweet smile. Lloyd exchanged a brief glance with the others, then decided to follow suit.
As they all took seats around the table, Anya’s eyes swept over them, falling on Cyclone. Her gaze traveled up and down the large halberd now strapped across his back. “My, that’s an awfully long spear you have there.”
Cyclone stared back at the Princess, his face a stony mask. “It does its job.”
A thin smile crossed Anya’s lips, her tone suggestive. “And what job is that, mister…”
“Cyclone… and its job is skewering dragons.”
Both of Anya’s blonde eyebrows raised this time. A soft growl emanated from the woman in scarlet who stood beside her. Anya swiveled her head toward the fiery redhead. “Now, now, Mallona, no need to get testy. These gentlemen are all our guests.”