Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  In all his years, he'd never felt this afraid. Genuine terror clawed at his insides, desperate to escape. But still he kept his calm, outwardly anyway. Surrounded by pitch black, barely able to see the hand he knew was attached to the end of his outstretched arm, he'd tried everything he could to shed some light, in more ways than one. A simple mantra that should have produced a burning ball of light in the palm of his hand was simply snuffed out before it got started. Three other mantras he'd tried after that suffered the same fate. Next, he'd scrolled through his various forms of vision, hoping against hope that might at least give him a fighting chance to see where he was. No joy again. Desperate, worried and with fear nibbling away at his insides, he could only come up with one more thing to try, and in his human guise, it wasn't ideal. Delving into the core of his very being, he rummaged around for that tiny little spark that all dragons have, no matter what their shape or form. It took longer than he would have liked, all the time the fear inside him willing him to fail. Eventually though, he found it, and not wasting any time at all, brought it up through his stomach and into his throat. It felt so different doing it as a human. Well... it would, wouldn't it? Dragon bodies are designed for this very purpose. The human structure is not. Feeling his tongue and the skin at the top of his mouth begin to char, with all his might he pushed out the flame, his eyes wide open, determined to take in anything of his surroundings. But as the bright yellow and orange licks of fire passed over his teeth, sending shivers of hurt surging down into his gums, in turn triggering a rapid succession of tears from his eyes, the absolute blackness won, easily slaughtering his last attempt to see his surroundings. Out of breath, mouth fried, and more in need of a drink than he could ever remember, Tank slumped to the floor, landing with a huge bump on his ass, despairing at the situation he found himself in. He was supposed to be helping his friends, and here he was transported somewhere else, of no use to them at all. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, the haunting laughter started up again. Fear and terror chased each other around his insides, inciting panic and alarm throughout his falsehood of a body. Unable to fight it off anymore, he curled up into the foetal position, sobbing for all he was worth.

  Panting like an over enthusiastic dog that had been chasing its own tail for an hour, and sweating more profusely than a marathon runner in a desert, Hook skidded to a halt beside Yoyo, delighted to be out of the main firing line and pleased to see a friendly face. At least, that's what he thought he was looking at, as the two had never actually met.

  Offering out his hand, Hook introduced himself.

  "Hook," he remarked, ever so orotund.

  Taking his eyes away from the battle, although still using his arms to cast, deflect and temper magic in and around his group of dragons, Yoyo smiled at the young human.

  "Yoyo," he ventured.

  "Pleased to meet you," put in Hook. "Was it you that healed me?"

  "It was, and you're very welcome."

  "What can I do? I don't have any magic to offer up, but I'll help in any way that I can."

  "You can cover me and make sure no one sneaks up behind us. I get so lost in the moment at times, with everything that's going on, it's sometimes hard for me to focus on the here and now. If an enemy approaches, give me a shout and I'll take care of it. Do not engage them yourself."

  Hook nodded, turned and started to take in the fight, noting where all his friends were, determined to make sure nothing devious or underhand found itself in a position to harm Yoyo. Turning back towards the action, the dragon healer marvelled at humans sharing the dragon domain, and not only that, but fighting alongside dragons, and their monarch. Things were getting crazy!

  Gingerly wobbling to her feet, Earth rose just in time to see her king and current soul mate, far across the chamber, launch a magical strike straight out of the naga's supernatural handbook, looking on happily as wisps of waspish shadow energy encompassed his onrushing attacker. Amazingly, and with more agility than she would have thought possible, the human shaped male leapt up and over at the very last moment, avoiding the attack. 'Ah... but he hasn't,' she thought, noticing the tiniest tendril on the outer edge of the magic slice through the lower part of his leg. Confident that her other half's opponent had been brutally dealt with, she turned away for a brief moment, brushing herself down, before checking that the healing energy she'd infused herself with had done its trick. It had. Pleased to go into battle looking her best, stoked by the rage and power bubbling just below the surface of her fair skin, thoughts of her appearance faded, only to be replaced with where she should strike first. It was then that a recognisable voice whispered inside her head, urging her on, begging to be set free. As the disembodied words flitted around her mind, she wondered how long it had been. Years since they'd last seen each other... oh how she'd yearned for him. Cartwheeling out of the way of several stray missile blasts and the explosive debris they tossed her way, she told him how much he'd been missed. Expressing the exact same sentiment back in her direction, both practically purred in satisfaction. With just a thought, using an image instead of words this time to give life to her magic, down beside her on the cracked, charred and discoloured broken white marble, appeared her familiar, the two-headed serpent looking eager to please. Dismissing him with the tiniest movement of her index finger, he knew not to stray too far, after all his primary purpose was to keep her safe, but how he did that was very much down to his own discretion. And having been away for so long, every instinct in his body screamed at him to keep her safe by killing all her enemies, an instinct he was only too happy to comply with.

  Watching her companion's thick, muscular tail disappear into a choking cloud of magical smog, Earth turned her attention to the raging enchanted encounter in front of her. Spotting two of the King's Guards together, seemingly having a great deal of success fighting back to back against a series of probing naga attacks, she readied her magic, let the darkness within consume her, and bounded over the rubble in front of her, intent on satisfying her blood lust.

  Parrying another strike, she feinted one way and then the other, before ramming the hilt of the dark edged sword up into the monstrous beast's jaw. It was momentarily stunned, so without hesitation she thrust her weapon as hard as she could through its pale green stomach, watching in satisfaction as blood spurted from the wound and gurgled from its mouth. With no time even to celebrate her small victory, and keeping her back firmly planted to that of her comrades, she brought her stolen sword up and prepared for the next attack. It was only then that she noticed the dragons and nagas in front of her part like trains at a set of points. Directly down the middle was the one being here that she feared the most. NO! Not Manson. Maybe it should have been him, after all, he was clearly a psychopath. But in some respects that made him predictable and certainly fightable. This foe though, she considered much, much worse. Having watched his evil queen throughout the entire time they'd been captured, she'd hoped to hell not to catch her attention, and thankfully she hadn't. But that had all changed now. With Earth marching steadily towards her, the young guard powered up her defensive shield, sent a brief warning to her partner, and with all the determination that she could muster, let loose a dizzying array of magic, all of it meant to destroy the crazy monster heading her way.

  Instinctively Manson's queen lit up her personal shield, allowing it to harmlessly absorb the pathetic display of sorcery spat at her by the disappointingly average guard who now looked on in absolute horror.

  'Good,' she thought. 'What's the point of having power if not to terrorise others?' Almost within a sword's reach, Earth stopped and smiled, the kind of sickening smile only pure, malevolent evil could muster. It had the desired effect, goading the guard to step out and leave her partner's back exposed. Without hesitation, the vile queen willed her magic into existence, producing a brilliant swarm of bright blue mosquitoes that, after acknowledging their own mortality, dive-bombed head first straight towards the quaking guard. Putting all her willpower and m
ana into her barrier, she died with a look of total and utter surprise ingrained into her scaled face as the supernatural insects not only penetrated her personal shield, but violated her scales with almost no resistance. Before the first guard's body had even hit the ground, Manson's queen was already using her exquisite gift for evil to drill beams of super powered light into the exposed back of her partner. With a roar louder than most planes taking off, the wounded dragon dropped to his knees before a horde of dragons and nagas swamped him. In an instant he too was dead.

  Alongside Troydenn's massive, motionless skull, Yelevel, one of the dragon councillors that had retreated back into the king's private residence when the council building had come under attack, danced a dance she knew well. A former knight in her younger years, for but a brief while she'd served alongside George, although some time after his encounter with the famed dragon at what was now known as the city of Salisbridge. Presently she found herself dicing with a particularly punchy naga who had a whole array of magical mischief up his sleeve. So far, she'd managed to avoid being caught by any of it, but was not only running out of ideas, but of mana as well. Knowing that she needed a brief respite to recover just a little spurred her on to finish off the serpent-like beast as quickly as she could. Detonating a brilliant, bright flash bang at almost point blank range, knowing what was to come allowed her to close her eyes and escape the worst of the dazzling explosion. Acting on instinct alone her human form closed the few metres' gap as her slippery opponent tried to wriggle out of the way, unable to see where his enemy was. Leaping for all she was worth, she almost slipped as she landed on the top part of his scaled tail. Grabbing onto his right ear with her right hand to steady herself, she knew speed was of the essence. By now the naga could feel her atop of him and started dancing about like a cat that's just realised it's about to be taken to the vet. Yelevel held on firmly, rising up and down and rolling with every movement, focusing her centre of gravity and maintaining her balance. During a momentary respite, she struck. Using the stolen knife she'd acquired from the guard that had held her hostage originally, with her left hand she rammed the blade fully into the beast's left ear with all the strength she had. Rewarded for her efforts by the start of a high pitched scream and the naga's now inert body slumping to the floor, the councillor leapt up and over the bleeding corpse, landing beside the massive matt black cadaver of Troydenn. Catching her breath fleetingly, having bought herself a little bit of space, she scrutinised the magical madness going on all around her. All things being equal, she should really have picked a target and ploughed on into the battle. It's a shame that she didn't. It might well have saved her life. With her back to the giant corpse for cover, and the energy within her recharging at quite a rate, she glanced around in front of her, selecting her next target carefully. Unbeknown to her, Earth's two headed wicked serpent slithered out from under Troydenn's neck where it had been hiding. Spotting its prey, the nightmarish beast wasted no time. In one lightning strike, both heads each clamped their razor-sharp teeth around a leg, injecting venom and holding on for all they were worth. Yelevel didn't have a chance. By the time she realised what was happening, the pain prevented her from finding the appropriate magical response, while the poison dulled her senses. In a matter of seconds it was over. The councillor for New Zealand was dead, Earth's familiar was vaguely satisfied and the battle raged on.

  Waves of pure, supernatural power roared through the air, hexes and enchantments ricocheted off the walls and floor, as a rainbow of different coloured smoke drifted across the king's private residence. Throughout it all, a young human woman began to feel the cold chill of the marble she'd been sitting on for some time. It hadn't of course been all plain sailing. Fu-ts'ang had deflected away a number of wild magical assaults that hadn't been intended for her, but had put her in danger anyway. And while things had gotten way past crazy, the dark dragons and nagas didn't see her as a threat and so focused their rage and their magic on other more dangerous looking targets. Little did they know that she'd played a significant part in the damage they'd suffered. Her tally of kills was significantly higher than anyone else's here. Of course, it wasn't just her. They were a team... one pure mind working with an experienced, calculating one that had a singular grasp of what needed to be done. And what a team they were. If Manson had known just what was going on, and the way in which Janice was guiding Fu-ts'ang, she'd be their number one target for sure. But he didn't, and with so much chaos and mayhem around the chamber, it was unlikely that he'd find out any time soon.

  Turning her attention to half a dozen nagas closing in on Yoyo's young band of renegade dragons, the youthful bar worker guided her partner in their direction. Slicing through the air, barely noticeable to most of those around apart from the slight frosty trail he left in his wake, Fu-ts'ang arrowed in on his first target... or should that be targets? Skipping around a wayward volley of scattered magical shots, the deadly weapon swept in low, disguising his trajectory by passing through two giant clouds of smoke given off by one of the huge ear splitting explosions that regularly lit up their surroundings. Lining himself up, much to Janice's approval, and with the deadly, icy white frost circling the blade, the weapon rushed forward, cleaving not one, but two naga tails in half, in a single strike. Both beasts smashed against the marble floor, emitting the most nauseous of ear-splitting sounds. Pleased with his work, Fu-ts'ang whipped back around in a tight arc, sights set on the next target.

  With their concentration focused on saving the lives of the band of young dragons, Janice and her partner failed to heed the approach of a brutal looking dark dragon. Brilliant burgundy merged gently with yellow across the whole of his body in a stunning combination, apart from his face which just looked as though he'd flown into the side of a house. Scales were missing, while some just flapped around as he walked, barely holding on with anything at all. The most disturbing things though were his eyes. One was almost totally bloodshot, while the other was... MISSING! A dark yellow eyelid was fused in place, with two thick black lines running diagonally across the scales and gunk that sat there instead of the normal tennis ball sized eyeball. As if that wasn't enough, some of the scales on his tail had been removed, and metallic spikes of various sizes and degrees of deadliness had been inserted. Stalking towards the unwitting Janice, one or two of the spikes dragged across the marble, the loud scraping noise of them doing so masked by the violence going on all around them.

  Jumping out of the way of a dazzling purple net that sizzled to the ground next to him, briefly the young hockey playing dragon considered reverting back to his natural form. Almost immediately though, he dismissed the idea. For the likes of Tank, it kind of made sense. His dragon body was huge, almost that of a laminium ball player. For Peter it was somewhat different... almost embarrassingly so. In his dragon form, he could fit quite neatly underneath one of Tank's mighty wings. So while he was reasonably agile and nimble in the air, that wasn't really a part of the battle he wanted to get involved with at the moment. Things were hard enough here on the ground... having glanced across the newly rebuilt bridge, he could see a massive force of dragons and nagas gathering there. He had little doubt that in no time at all, when Manson gave the command, the air above them would be filled with enemies. And while he was comfortable in the air, to him it seemed like the natural alternative was to stay in his human guise and help as best he could on the ground. Besides... it wasn't like he was the only one. Currently, George the king, Fredric his grandfather, Richie his best friend, Tank when he'd last seen him, and Flash were all in their falsehood human bodies, and so he figured he was in good company.

  Evading monstrous heaps of rubble being dropped from the air by some of the dark dragons, Peter instinctively rolled off to one side as a spluttering, brilliant white, errant spark cut through where his head had been only moments ago. Thanking his lucky stars, and still reasonably sure he was protected by the shield from breaking the alea, even though he couldn't see or feel it, a sense of urgency started t
o niggle away at him. Glancing over his shoulders to make sure there was no immediate threat, it was then that he realised what the warning meant. Spotting the hulking, great, one-eyed prehistoric monster through the explosions and the magical melee, creeping ever closer to the love of his life, he knew he had to act. Without a thought for his own safety, he leapt over the lifeless remains of a silver shaded naga and sprinted straight into a cacophony of the supernatural, heading directly towards her.

  Stomping towards his completely off guard prey, the humungous beast stopped when he knew he was in range. Ignoring some of the errant magical attacks that harmlessly bounced off his remaining scales, the sensation brought forth childhood memories of being tickled, causing him to pause momentarily. For a being so full of anger and violence, it was an odd turn of events, but one which fortunately allowed the young hockey playing dragon to close in on the threat he recognised to his beloved Janice.

  Familiarity blossomed, causing her to open her eyes as her heart skipped a beat. There, directly in front of her, through the haze of the many different types of magic, her one true love appeared, poking through the multicoloured mist, rushing towards her at speed. Ignoring Fu-ts'ang's protests, her mind wandered. About to get up and throw herself into his onrushing arms, abruptly a cold chill ran down Janice's spine, filling her with dread. Slowly she swivelled her head and looked up to see the back of the gargantuan dark dragon, his head looking around at her, just like she was watching him. Roaring loudly with delight at the look of utter terror on the female bar worker's face, the prehistoric monstrosity raised his ferocious club-like tail in the air, and prepared to bring it down right on top of her.