by Paul Cude
All the time scratching at her face like some mad, delusional witch, she wobbled up the cliff top path, at times using the fauna around her to pull her up just that little bit further. Sensing them, and of course him, she could tell he was hurt, but not too badly. But they were closing in on his position. She had to move, move faster. But the pain was out of this world, with her face feeling like it had been torn off. Spitting out yet another mouthful of blood, she caught her breath next to a thorny little bush, just for a few seconds, before once again pressing on, knowing time was of the essence.
Eyes firmly closed, he stretched out with his mind... and found them. Now within fifty yards of his position, two were together, two were on their own, wading through the surrounding undergrowth, clear of the path, no doubt fearful of a trap. Taking a breath and then exhaling slowly, he threw a stone up over the rock he was sitting behind, high up into the air, satisfied with the trajectory it was on. Leaning his chin on his chest, he grabbed another stone and waited for the mayhem to begin.
Eight was stationed directly behind Nine as they moved through the scrub on top of the cliff. Abruptly Nine's closed fist sprang up into the air. They both stopped stock still, tense and on the lookout for danger from every possible angle. They were good, that's for sure. But neither noticed the solid, dark object dropping upon them from directly above as the wind had cancelled out any sound that might have given them a clue. And then it was too late. BOOOOOOMMMMM!!! The explosion tore the earth apart right in between them both. Fire and intense heat scorched the surrounding area, with stones acting as projectiles, peppering the two Crimson Guards with holes, while the kinetic force tossed their ragged bodies yards into the air, both finally landing face down, suffering massive trauma. Just outside the blast radius the two remaining guards looked on in disbelief, a tiny trickle of terror running through each. Both reaching the same conclusion at pretty much the same time, they were sitting ducks for whatever had just taken out two of their team. They had to act now. And so, in unison, they did, taking off, heedless of the risks, at full pelt towards the rock which they knew was sheltering their target.
About to throw the next stone that he'd prepared, he realised just a fraction too late that they'd done the last thing they were supposed to. By the time he'd reacted, they were too close to use the stones. He was on his own. Leaping to his feet, ignoring the blossoming pain in his stomach, he prepared to meet them.
Cresting the rise of the adjacent cliff top just in time to see the explosion go off and bits of dragon guard go everywhere, she smiled at the ingenuity of her husband, the feeling of pride soon turned to horror as she watched the two remaining guards break cover and head towards her husband at a sprint. Thrusting out her right arm, she tried to aim her magic somewhere in the guard's path, a series of terrifying electrical charges leaping from her not quite instantaneously. The surrounding air crackled and hummed, filled with electricity, but she was too far away and her desperate efforts were very wide of the mark. Starting to run, her momentum was helped by the slight down slope, but by now the dragons clad only in black had disappeared behind the craggy old rock.
On him in an instant, he blocked an oncoming blow by the first one, surprised at how his body remembered to fight, almost on its own. The second came in, snapping a low kick towards his left leg. Jumping and turning both at the same time, he aimed a well placed kick towards the guard's knee. But he didn't fall for it, instead opting to somersault back out of range. Closing him down, both Crimson Guards knew he had nowhere to go. His back was to the rock that had provided him with cover. To his left, there was a sheer drop into the darkness, with the beach and a quick death waiting. Knowing that if he could get them to commit to an attack, he just might be able to use their momentum to his advantage and force them over the cliff, he put on his best demeaning sneer, almost as if to say, "Bring it on." But these two knew what had happened to the others and recognised a serious threat when they saw it. And so with the coordination and teamwork that comes only with years of experience, they moved as one, launching themselves at him simultaneously. Ducking his head to one side, he let rip with the most powerful punch he could under the circumstances. It wasn't enough. The first Crimson Guard had got well within his defences, while the second had countermanded his punch. After that, it was all over. A head butt struck him first. It wasn't full on, as he'd pulled back his head, but it was a powerful glancing blow, enough to momentarily stun him, making his head ring like a church bell. While blocking the punch, the second guard spun slightly on his heel and then planted the sole of his other foot straight through Earth's husband's knee, causing him to bellow in pain, as the CRACK of snapping bones rose above the gale.
Hurrying down the rise, crashing through bracken, the wind whipping her hair into a Medusa-like appearance, the sound of a loud CRACK resounding over the wind forced her into running faster. Pride in her husband's work and the thought of yet another dragon badly wounded sent a jolt of excitement through her. During the years that they'd been living in the cottage, she'd missed the thrill of the fight. Often she'd thought about it, those that she'd betrayed, captured, tortured, killed. Not a hint of remorse had ever shown its face, in fact quite the opposite. It thrilled her to think about the power she'd held over others. She missed it. Now... she was making the most of it, living off it, letting it course through her veins, powering her on to something greater.
Spent, he dropped unceremoniously to the ground, the two guards looking like ninjas towering over him in their all black outfits. Instinctively he curled up into a ball, willing his mind to conjure up something in the way of protection as the kicks from each of them smashed into him. It was, however, not going to happen. The pain from his gut wound alone was almost enough to make him black out, and that combined with his fractured knee cap and the onslaught he was now taking left him vulnerable, defenceless, incapable. Leaning down, the first dragon guard grabbed him by the neck, forced his hands away from his face and then hit him with a wild punch, bursting the skin above his right eye, sending blood and bone fragments hurtling up against the craggy rock they all found themselves in front of. Just as another punch was incoming, a bewitching, insane figure, lit up with magic, powered by rage, came flying round from the other side of the rock, forked electricity sizzling from each of her fingertips, death to all written in her eyes.
His good eye caught sight of her. She looked magnificent. He'd never been prouder. Alright, she looked as though she'd been in a fight, but just how many dragons had she destroyed this night? After she put these two mutts out of their misery, he looked forward to finding out.
Both Crimson Guards were horrified at what had just skidded to a halt in front of them. Neither had experienced nightmares, but if they had it would be hard to imagine anything worse than that which stood before them. Automatically their training took over. Ignoring the wounded enemy on the ground, the first threw all the magic he had at her, while the second instantly erected a makeshift shield to protect them both.
Despite the run down nature of her personal shield, the magic thrown at her only tickled. Both dragons were nothing more than insects to her now, able to bite, scratch and sting, but nothing more than that. With her hair dancing around to its own beat in the wind, and spying her battered and beaten up husband curled up in a ball on the ground, right by the cliff's edge, a despairing madness overwhelmed her. She wanted to punish them for what they'd done, make them pay, torture them for days on end before deliciously removing their still beating hearts. Unfortunately she didn't have the luxury of any of that and so instead decided to get it over with. It can only be described as hell being unleashed. Electricity, primarily, with fire, ice and just a hint of pure poison whooshed from her hands, totally filling the gap between her and the two dragons. It ripped apart the childlike shield one of them had erected and then caught both in the chest, forcing them to stagger back towards the pitch black drop behind them. From the floor, he looked up into her eyes, smiling at the power she wielded, prou
d that she was his. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him smiling at how well she was doing. It brought forth memories of their early days together, days that were amazing, like no other. Days that would come again, now that they were reunited, standing together against their common enemy.
Unsurprisingly, a wave of tiredness washed over her; she was, after all, using nearly everything she had to continue the onslaught of magic that was burning from her hands. In an instant, she decided to finish it.
Both Crimson Guards pushed back with all they had, but to little effect. In a sense, they were resigned to their fate, which would be the same as the rest of the team. So when a surge of power from the demonic witch they were fighting pushed them ever closer to the cliff edge, only a blink of an eye from going over, the more experienced of the two switched his focus, knowing that he'd be meeting his doom a few seconds sooner than intended. Reaching out, he clamped onto the injured rogue dragon curled up into a ball on the ground. Despite knowing that death was but a moment or two away, his action was rewarded by the looks on both his opponent's faces, as he, the other member of his team and the injured rogue dragon slipped slowly over the edge of the cliff.
It hadn't seemed possible. One second he was there, the next he was slipping away in slow motion, his look of pride exchanged for one of terror. The magic ceased as she sprang towards the cliff edge. Reaching over, her mind raced for any and all mantras or spells that would save him. But it was too late. With a muffled CRUNCH, the three bodies hit the rocks below all at the same time. Wailing and screaming she punched the ground repeatedly, the craggy rock... herself. But it was no good. He was dead. Gone forever. She lay against the rock for many minutes... who knew how long? A long time. Tears streamed as she screamed herself hoarse, magic crackled and fizzed, sizzled, bubbled and flew. Eventually she passed out, her bloodied body resting against the rock.
A few hours later, dawn broke. Sunlight streamed onto her broken body, the wind having died down. Sitting up, she licked her cracked lips. Everything hurt, but nothing more than her broken heart. It was hard to find the will to go on, but she knew that she had to; it was what he would have wanted. There was also the tiny matter of... REVENGE. That's right, she had to get back at those dragons, repay everything they'd done to her with interest. Deciding to bide her time, she would wait patiently and then rip their world apart, just as they had done to her. A sparkle from only a hand's width away caught her attention. Sun glinted off the broken remains of a bright green bottle. Pulling the massive shard from the sand, she held it up to the light, gazing at her reflection as she did so. Although difficult to tell in the warped green of the bottle, she could just make out her face and see just how badly it had been ruined. Massive, bright purple lines crisscrossed her once perfect complexion, making her face look like one giant spider's web. In that instant she knew that because magic had been used, she'd be stuck with it forever.
'Yet another reason to rain down hell upon those dumb dragons and their oh so perfect world,' she thought, scrambling to her feet. Deciding to head back to the cottage to quickly gather some fresh clothes, she didn't even bother looking over the edge of the cliff to see what lay there. Her future had already been decided.
45 Tortuous Troubling Turn
Even though on some level he'd been half expecting and watching out for it, it still came as something of a surprise when it actually happened. As far as he could ascertain, it had started with a number of different minor calls for the King's Guard to respond to, all within London, all within an hour of each other. Not totally uncommon, there were always enough dragons available to cover almost any eventuality. But on reflection, it had been a huge mistake, because something in the order of half the fighting force assigned to the council building had gone out to assist in one form or another. It didn't take long to realise that something out of the ordinary was going on. It happened so quickly, and could have been no coincidence. Contact was lost, not just with one team (unusual in itself) but with two, three, four, five teams. The list went on. In the end, no more teams were dispatched. Not a single dragon from any of those teams had returned or been heard from.
That had been just over six hours ago. And since then, things had gotten worse. Strange and mysterious mantras were popping into effect throughout the elegant and modern building. Far advanced from anything the humans were capable of creating, the computer system had developed a number of fatal flaws and had been shut down, its power supply having to be destroyed. Throughout the building, emergency seals and doors randomly opened and closed, occasionally cutting off important intersections within the structure itself, making it very difficult to mount a strategic defence against whatever was coming. Last but not least, the council chamber and everything within it could not be accessed. Dragon masters were currently working on a way to negate whatever mantra had taken over the room, but at the moment, with very little luck.
The king, his immediate staff and the councillors that remained had all been asked to withdraw back into the king's private residence, by the highest ranking officer left in charge. Not knowing whether it was a good plan or not, the king could see no alternative, given that they had no idea what was happening around them in the city itself. So, he'd agreed to Captain Amelia Battlehard's request and here they sat, cut off, with no information feeding through to them. King's Guards were scattered throughout the failing council building, guarding the overhanging walkway that joined the king's private residence, clustered around the entrance to the stunning ancient wonder of a building, waiting for what seemed like an inevitable attack. As the guard captain with them issued orders to those in the adjoining building telepathically, the king wondered if there was any way out of this for them all and what other options were available to him. No communications, no tactical information on what they were facing, no defending dragon army, no one coming to their rescue, no real way out, no hope! It all looked rather bleak.
46 Currying Favour
It had been an odd kind of day, with one of the most bizarre games of lacrosse she'd ever taken part in, followed by the no show of Peter and Tank at the pub. Perhaps that was nothing unusual in itself, but they'd both let down their respective teams in different ways, as Tank had been due to play, with Peter supposed to have been supporting. Richie couldn't ever remember that happening before. That said though, she did appreciate her memory recently had not been that... reliable, but still... something tickled the recesses of her very being, almost whispering to her to remain alert, on guard. Her instinct was to listen, and listen carefully. Despite not really wanting to, she'd got caught up in the after match hubbub, and much to her surprise, had just walked into the favourite Indian restaurant of the hockey, lacrosse and rugby playing sections of the sports club, located almost smack bang in the centre of Salisbridge. Holding the door for the rest of the eclectic group she found herself with, she smiled politely as two of the hockey men squeezed past, then three of her lacrosse teammates, followed by two of the rugby men, and Janice, all thanking her. Janice's forced, "Thanks," stung. Despite trying her best to convince the gorgeous looking bar worker that she had nothing to worry about with regards to Peter, and that they were very much only friends, albeit best friends, things still tended to be on the frozen side of frosty whenever they were in a confined space together. Richie couldn't think of anything else she could say or do to convince Peter's squeeze (or ex-squeeze, who knew) that she was anything but supportive of their relationship. Letting the door swing closed, the ex-dragon followed the rest of the group up the main aisle of the restaurant to their normal table on the raised part of the seating area, right at the back of the room. As the smartly dressed waiter showed them to their seats, she slipped into one of the high backed chairs in between two of the rugby players, ignoring a sharp twinge of pain in her knee from the earlier lacrosse match. Slipping off her brown leather flying jacket to give to the waiter, one of its arms dragged across the front of her neck, rubbing roughly against the necklace holding the ring that Pe
ter had given her. As it did so, a burning sensation seared into her collarbone, not for the first time today, or indeed at all. Strangely, the shimmering blue triangles lining the circumference of the ring appeared to be glowing slightly brighter today, at least she thought so. On both the other occasions she'd thought this had happened other than today, Richie had told herself repeatedly that she'd been... MISTAKEN. On one of the occasions she'd been in the ladies' toilet, and had found herself having a conversation in the mirror to deny that the necklace was doing anything out of the ordinary. But now, with it having happened on three very different days... she simply didn't know what to think. Peter had given her the ring and made her promise two things. One... to guard it with her life, telling her it held the key not only to her future, but to her past as well. And two... not to put it on her finger at any cost. At the time, she couldn't ever remember seeing him more serious. It was all very mysterious... but what did it mean?
