Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  Surviving once again by the skin of his teeth, the heat from the attack searing his chin smarting like hell, his temper, with yet more cause to erupt, threatened to spill out. Unfortunately there wasn't time for that, because that damned naga king was working in conjunction with the dragon, and both of them together had him almost pinned down. Thoughts of the past fortunately presented him with another option. Grunting out parts of the nagas' decidedly basic language, in conjunction with intricate finger movements, his mind harked back to his time in charge at Cropptech, the company he hated so much. It had amused him no end to observe the lengths the suspicious Bentwhistle had gone to in an effort to figure out just how he'd been avoiding the security cameras in and around the huge corporate facility. In a million years, he'd have never worked it out. Unlike the almost backward dragons living beneath the surface in their precious dragon domain, the nagas had harnessed their God-given abilities in much more advanced ways, one of which included an incredible piece of supernatural wizardry. On finding out what they were going to teach him all that time ago, at first he'd thought it a joke, a prank, something he had little time for. But no, it was real, and had been demonstrated to him there and then. You see, this one spell, the one he'd used to avoid Peter and all the cameras at Cropptech, was a teleportation spell. Limited to a range of about seventy metres or so, it could easily bypass physical objects and transport its user that sort of distance in any direction, up, down, left right, pretty much anywhere. All the caster had to do was imagine exactly where it was he or she intended to end up and then BOOM, it would happen in an instant, the only drawback being that it was hugely magically intensive, consuming more for every metre it moved the user. Magic that allowed him to move about covertly then, is exactly what he used now to avoid the imminent attack, transporting himself only a short distance this time, looking on as half a dozen icy missiles zinged past his left shoulder, slamming into the ground, forming their own slippery little lake in the middle of all the action.

  Cursing himself for coming over to investigate the peculiar turn of events, he wished to hell that he'd stayed surrounded by the subordinates in his army. Briefly going on the offensive, bright blue and purple arcs of electricity rocketed from his fingertips in the direction of the naga king, forcing the serpent-like beast to use all the coils in its body to roll unnaturally out of the way. Tumbling head over heels to avoid more magical attacks from the well armed and informed silver dragon, reluctantly he brushed away his pride and telepathically sent out a call for help to all and sundry. Knowing that he only needed to last a matter of seconds before dozens of reinforcements arrived, spurred him on to go on the attack once again. So blasting the winter lake that had formed on the ground from the ice bolts with a huge fireball of his own, he somersaulted up and over the huge plume of steam that erupted from it, and hiding behind it, readied ever more offensive magic, determined to bring these insolent whelps to bear when his backup arrived.

  Nagas and dark dragons of every shape and size flooded out of the council building and onto the courtyard adjacent to it, the serpent-like creatures queuing up to cross the bridge and join the action, while the dragons waited patiently for enough air space to take flight, that's how crowded it was. Manson's magical call to arms had ignited the supernatural power within all these beings, forcing them to do their master's bidding, whether they liked it or not. Very few, if any, of Manson's attacking force remained in the council building, which would have been unwise on a tactical level, especially given the current infestation of magical and mythical creatures slowly scouring what was left of it, attracted to the scent of magic, following it wherever it would lead them, keen to sate their hunger, and all now working together as one. Somebody, at some point, was in for a big surprise.

  "If you let me out now, I can go and help them," suggested Fredric to everybody within the supernatural barrier that edged ever closer to the king's position with every second that passed.

  "I can't lower the shield, not even for a split second," replied Richie, slightly more relaxed with channelling all the magic with help from Yoyo's band of young dragons. "Our best bet is to roll on over and absorb them into our shield. If we do that, they'll instantly be protected, and then we can start on the offensive. Letting you out now would place all of us in unnecessary danger."

  Despite appearing agitated outwardly, Fredric knew she was right.

  "How else can I help?" he asked, genuinely wanting to play his part.

  "Keep an eye on the so called corpses we're travelling over. Make sure there are no surprises left in or on them, or that any of them are still living. I'm sure by now their forces can guess our plan, and would like nothing else but to try and stop us reaching our goal at all costs."

  Nodding in agreement, Peter's grandfather sidled up to Richie at the front of the shield and, after recognising his own dagger and fuelled by magic, checked every single corpse, naga or dragon, to make sure nothing was missed. Inch by inch, they edged closer to their leader, and the dragon Fredric thought of as his best friend.

  Things were getting mightily hairy for the remaining councillor and the King's Guard soldiers fighting in the circle beneath the monarch and Amelia Battlehard. Besieged by dragons and nagas as far as the eye could see, as soon as they cut down one of the dreaded beasts, another would instantly appear in its place. There was no let up, no break, no respite... something had to give, it was inevitable.

  A timely kinetic mantra helped her use the air surrounding the dragon's head to warp and crush the skull beyond belief; another enemy collapsed to the floor dead. Unable to even take a breath before yet another took its place, this time of the serpent-like variety, in the blink of an eye Dixie Sadheart reinforced her part of the collective shield, deflected away a barrage of pink and white magic she didn't recognise, and dug deep into what remained of her reserves of mana. So busy was she lining up spell after spell, mantra after mantra, that she didn't even have time to be worried that her reserves were almost depleted. Using a skill she liked to think of as 'ignite', the words inside her wrapped themselves in a good deal of her willpower, and instantly the naga in front of her burst into superhot yellow, blue and red flames. Batting them away madly with its tiny little hands, the beast in question rolled off to one side as the scales around its monstrous face started to melt. Readying her next attack deep within her mind, a particularly vicious mental probe that should in theory strike one of the monsters dead without anyone knowing why, a sharp, piercing pain ripped through her knee and lower leg. Stunned, shocked and panicked all at once, the fearless and courageous dragon looked down past her belly, to find one of the supposed dark dragon corpses chewing on the lower part of her extremity. Trying desperately to shake it off, her momentary lapse in judgement and the pain caused her to forget about her part of the shield. As it sizzled into nothingness, naga arms, teeth and whole bodies tore through the gap, overwhelming poor Dixie, who died almost immediately, whilst infiltrating those light sided dragons' last bastion of safety.

  Blowing out an intensely powerful jet of fire that scorched an approaching attacker's wing, forcing her to spiral out of control, smashing firmly into the marble some way away, Amelia Battlehard immediately realised what had happened beneath her. Assessing the situation, not wanting to leave the dragon she was there to protect without a wingdragon, it was only when a telepathic 'GO!' from the monarch entered her mind that she chose to act. Instinctively, she slid down the side of the shield, coming to a halt next to the gap Dixie had left. Brutally smashing the hilt of her stolen sword into the side of a naga's head, rewarded by an almighty 'CRACK', she kicked his body back into the crowd, moved across to plug the opening, and with one effective command, ignited a shield of her own design. In only a few moments after the breach, Captain Battlehard had taken the deceased dragon's place, once again shoring things up. But there was a problem. In the time it had taken for her to get there, some of the enemy had gotten inside their impenetrable fortress, and were now attacking some of the othe
r dragons from the interior of the dome. This did not bode well.

  Much too slow for her liking, it was at least working, and because of that, she fed nothing but positive feelings into her link with the familiar that she loved more than any other being on the planet. With a particularly nasty and heavy rock having been removed, she could at least appreciate being able to take a full breath once again, even though it hurt like hell.

  'Broken ribs,' she thought to no one but herself. So, with a few full breaths, her head began to clear and her thinking straightened out. Moments later, her magic was there, where it had always been. Wasting no time, she flooded her body, in particular the legs she knew were there but couldn't feel, with all the power she dared, ordering her familiar to slither off to one side. After it had complied, she used a forceful kinetic blast to shake the remaining debris off. It worked a treat. Now to find her bloody father and finish what had already been started.

  A female's life was always one of compromises, constraints and in general a juggling act, Amelia Battlehard thought as she rammed her stolen sword up through the jawbone of one of the usurpers that had infiltrated their safe haven, whilst at the same time fighting off a stream of nagas hurling strange magic that even she didn't recognise at her side of the dome. Bad enough those two events on their own, she also had the task of keeping an eye on George, the king, fighting solo above her: multi, multi, multi tasking as she liked to think of it. Inside herself she knew they were running out of time. There were just too many of the enemy to continue to stave off. They needed either a rescue or an escape plan; neither looked very likely though. And with that last thought, whilst assaulting yet another naga, looking straight out in front of her, in the distance, through the horde of attacking serpents, she caught sight of something incredibly unusual and heart warming. A moving shield filled with the dragons she'd last seen cowering over the other side of the battlefield, was only a matter of moments from reaching their position. Briefly her heart leapt, but given everything she was trying to deal with, it really didn't have the time to do it properly.

  'Just maybe,' she thought, 'we might get the tiniest bit of respite.'

  Throughout all the centuries he'd inhabited the planet, and all the battles and dirty deeds he'd been involved in, never had he ever seen anything like this. It was an impossible battle, the air filled with deadly flying beasts the like of which the earth had never seen before, well... not in such numbers. It was no better on the ground, with barely a square metre free from murdering monsters either in their disturbed dragon form, or nagas slithering in long lines, controlled using dark magic, forced to ignore the pleas of their king and do the dreadful bidding of the newcomer Manson.

  Constantly being at risk of being flanked without his fighting partner encouraged his magic to freely flow through him now, his molecules soaking it up before spitting it almost straight back out in some form of offensive magic. Not knowing how long he could keep up this level of supernatural trickery and damage, he could only really concentrate on the moment, and then the next one and the one after that, barely able to think about staying alive in order to protect the ones that had pledged their lives in an effort to keep him safe.

  With four dragons all on opposite sides about to close in on him, the raging magic within him found the most appropriate mantra almost without his help. Whispered words backed up by his indomitable will instantly turned the air surrounding him into thick grey clouds, heavy with ionised particles. Their vision obscured, all four murderous dark dragons closed in on their opponent's last known position, but unknown to them he'd hovered much higher up in the air, using the newly formed clouds as cover. Converging on the apex of the shield, it only then became apparent what was going on.

  Waiting for the inevitable, knowing that the mantra he thought of as a lightning conductor was about to kick in, a flicker of a brief smile crossed his face. In some ways he loved everything about being in battle: adrenaline surging through his veins, the taste and smell of everything going on around, the confusion, misdirection and of course the vicious and cruel bloodlust he knew to be part of his dragon DNA. It wasn't right, that much he was sure, and the king inside him would have gone to great lengths to avoid any sort of conflict, but here and now, without any choice, he found himself fully immersed in all of it, his supernatural power going ballistic, fulfilling its natural intent. It was rapture, pleasure personified, and most definitely satisfying a dragon's most basic purpose.

  FLASH, CRACKLE, BANG... no, not the latest incarnation of the cereal characters, but George's sleight of hand coming to fruition. In an onslaught of power filled lightning blasts designed to culminate at the top of the shield, all four dark dragons found themselves being electrocuted over and over again. An added by-product of this trickery was that George had enabled the power from the strikes which missed the monstrous beasts, and there were many hundred in such a short space of time, to be absorbed by the barrier covering his allies, in the hope of reenergising it, allowing those inside one less thing to worry about. As the last of the thunderous bolts of lightning fizzled into nothingness, and the smell of roasted dragon flesh wafted through the air, the current monarch dropped back down on top of the domed energy barrier, resuming his previous position, fully focused, ready to protect those whose side he stood by.

  Relieved to see not only her king return, but the extra power added to their shared defensive barrier, without thinking about her actions she blasted one of the wicked creatures that had stolen away behind them inside the shield, with a thick stream of superheated flame she'd conjured up at a moment's notice, watching with satisfaction as its twisted, charred form wriggled, smoked and writhed in tortuous agony for the last few moments of its life. It proved to be a good tactical choice within the confines of their small fighting force, as the other dragons soaked up the excessive heat from her attack. Turning to face back out, she conjured up an explosion of acid directly behind the naga now attacking her part of the shield with some sort of sonic screech. Snake-like body parts and thick, green, gooey acid flew in every direction as the detonation decimated not only her immediate attacker, but the two behind him and both either side. Momentarily pleased with her handiwork, she willed the walking shield she hoped was trying to rescue them to hurry up. The sooner the king was back by her side, the better she would feel about the whole situation they found themselves in.

  'Damn!' thought Flash, frustrated and ultimately disappointed at the turn of events, having not managed to finish off Manson, something he'd not only been close to doing, but actually looking forward to. In a matter of just a few short seconds, he and Vasuki had been swarmed over by what under normal circumstances he would have considered a small naga and dragon army. Here and now, it was of course only a side contingent of Manson's massive force, but it felt like much, much more. Having just agreed with the naga king to take the forces attacking them in the air, leaving the ground for him to deal with, Flash in his breathtaking new dragon persona leapt up, and with one flap of his giant aerodynamic wings, glided into position above his serpent-like friend, belting out fireballs and torrents of superhot flame in almost every direction, falling back on his Crimson Guard training, determined not to go down without a fight, all the time keeping an eye on the smirking form of Manson in the distance, who now watched with studious satisfaction. All that did was rile Flash, something most beings who knew him would be super wary of, and for Manson, it just might prove to be his undoing.

  Lines of nagas six deep had no idea what approached them from behind, well... at least not until it was too late. Led by Richie holding out the laminium dagger in front of her, the sizzling, thick shield of magic walked straight into them, crushing some, electrifying others, Yoyo's band of young dragons mentally and magically attacking even more, whilst Fredric and the great healer himself picked off the odd stray one that might have caused a problem. In essence, a huge swathe of the nagas were massacred in but a few moments, creating a straight path to the domed shield of their allies, some
thing the light sided rescue force took full advantage of.

  Marching straight ahead, Richie stood face to face with Amelia Battlehard, the two female dragons each giving the other a deep nod of respect. Wondering what the plan was, Captain Battlehard was shocked when the young lacrosse playing dragon, shield and all, just walked through her defences as if they didn't even exist. Once there, and in conjunction with Yoyo and all his charges, they immediately extended out the shield, forming a barrier around the one all the King's Guards had put in place previously. In a split second, Fredric killed the remaining two infiltrating nagas who were wrestling with a couple of the king's protectors. Knowing that they were now guarded by something far more serious than the meagre barriers they'd all conjured up between them, the disheartened, dismayed and exhausted fighting force slumped to the ground, exhausted, wary, tired, and nearly all out of magic. Acting on instinct, Yoyo instructed the spare young dragons not tied to powering the shield to start healing the wounds of those they'd just rescued, while he did the same, attending to the most serious himself.