Taking a step forward towards the left hand passageway, suddenly a gigantic, bony, tattered and just basically old, wing, swung round and blocked his way.
"We must walk directly to the entrance, but on no account go any further than the first waterfall."
'Oh... things are just getting better and better,' mused the young hockey playing dragon. Choosing to walk in front of the master mantra maker, he tentatively padded his way across to the entrance of the left hand tunnel which surprisingly, to him anyway, still remained pitch black.
Standing at the cusp of the entrance, he watched as the other two tunnels faded into nothing, a wave of relief washing over him. Hoping fervently that all the action he'd seen today was behind him, he stepped into the darkness.
Letting out an almighty yawn, due mainly to the fact that he spent about ninety-nine percent of the time huddled away inside his Mantra Emporium, this was the most action Gee Tee had seen in quite some time, probably since unleashing the ice salamander, the one that young Flash had given so much in getting rid of, the one from which they were still clearing up.
Clumsily he strode past Peter and through the entrance to the remaining tunnel. All of a sudden, the entire vista before them lit up, totally taking Peter's breath away. It was the single most amazing sight he could ever remember witnessing. Trailing off into the distance as far as he could see, the tunnel was a sight to behold. Four or five yards in front of him a stream, two or three yards across, with shallow, crystal clear water disappeared over a little waterfall, which rippled, tickled, tumbled, swirled, flowed and lapped at the grassy banks on either side of it. Peter stood transfixed; never in his life had he seen water move in such a magnificent way. Abruptly, an overwhelming need to touch the water, move into it, drink from it... started to consume him. He became so distracted that he failed to notice some other key features of the enchanting and rather deadly environment he found himself in with the old dragon. You see the stunning stream, scattered with tiny weaving bends, waterfalls measured in inches and thick twisting branches looking like they'd fallen perfectly across it in places, was really something special... particularly if you looked up, something he hadn't done yet. But if he had, he'd have seen an exact copy of the stream, mirrored in every way, running along what he considered to be the ceiling of the tunnel, its water seemingly glued there, gravity somehow defying belief. Between the two impossible streams running up the curved walls of the almost circular tunnel, a stunning looking layer of perfectly cut grass interspersed with the most beautiful wild flowers complemented the running water perfectly. The flawless grass was besieged by swathes of daisies, most of which had a shield of Goldilocks buttercups surrounding them. Towers of pink and yellow snapdragons stood up proud from the river bank, protruding from the ceiling and the bowed walls of the passageway. Ironically, yellow dragon's teeth blooms were dotted about everywhere, almost splattered like paint flicked from a brush. Pink evening primrose, creeping forget-me-nots, bluebells, snowdrops, daffodils and cowslips melted seamlessly into the picture perfect landscape, if that's how it could be described. Honeysuckle and clusters of stunning red poppies beset the curled, enclosed rock walls, making it look as though it were under attack in some places. This faultless vision was set off with common spotted orchids plaguing sections of the river bank and tormenting pockets of the surrounding rock wall, almost covering it in a jacket in places, their white petals imprinted with perfect patterns of purple, looking like some kind of textbook tie-dye production. It was an idyllic scene. But still, Peter found himself focused on the running water, finding it very hard to resist. Before he could move towards it, the very same wing as before moved out in front of him, blocking his way.
"Fight it child!" the old shopkeeper ordered, referring to Peter's urge. "It wants you... wants you to touch it with any part of your body. It's part of the vault's defence system. SNAP OUT OF IT!"
Blinking furiously, the young dragon shook his head, almost as though he hadn't realised what was happening.
Figuring that his young friend needed a practical demonstration of what would have happened, the master mantra maker folded his wings back behind him, closed his hands together, held them up to his prehistoric jaw before mouthing a few words into them. Sparkling bright light shone through the gaps in his fingers momentarily, before disappearing completely. Taking one step forward, Gee Tee threw open his hands and released an exquisite looking dragonfly that he'd just created out of thin air. Transparent wings fluttered gracefully as it cut through the air, heading straight for some of the reeds that lined part of the shallow river's banks. About halfway there it seemed to become confused, almost as if it were battling to understand which way was up and which way was down. Both dragons looked on, one in fascination, the other knowing full well what was about to unfold. Having gotten a grip on gravity, or perhaps it should be reality, the striking looking insect perched precariously for a few seconds, before almost sliding down a reed towards the water. The second its body came in contact with the breathtaking liquid, it froze... INSTANTLY! Coming to rest, it looked like some kind of miniature statue erected on the surface of the river. Staggered, Peter took a step back, bumping straight into the outstretched scaled belly of the shopkeeper. It was only then that he really took in his surroundings, and the rest of the tunnel that he had little choice now but to traverse.
"It... it... it... it looks so beautiful," he mumbled.
"Beautiful but ultimately DEADLY! If you take one lesson away from today... it should be that. So much of the world we live in is nothing like we actually perceive it. And that's certainly more true at the moment with the threat we face than probably at any other time in history. REMEMBER that at all times," exclaimed the old shopkeeper, rapping Peter gently on the forehead.
Nodding, he wondered how on earth they were going to traverse the simply perfect looking vista. Eventually, when the silence between the two dragons had grown unbearably uncomfortable, the younger of the two once again piped up.
"How do we cross it?"
Stepping past him, leaning down as he did so, the master mantra maker whispered,
"Watch... and learn!"
Standing with the talons of his right foot only a few inches from the entrance side of the first tiny waterfall, the old dragon raised his head, spread his arms and wings, and in a much more powerful voice than Peter would ever have given him credit for possessing, shouted,
"SPERMA REDIMIO."
Before his slower than normal brain could grasp the rough translation, which was something along the lines of, "Seeds surround," a maelstrom of activity in front of the two dragons spun up from nothing. Flowers and their stems coiled and warped, writhed and squirmed, extended and retracted, some with their heads spinning like washing machines on full cycle. The picturesque scene ahead of the two dragons looked like a full on horror movie, particularly to any hay fever sufferers. Amongst the mayhem, vicious whirlpools, eddies, waves and what looked like treacherous currents threatened to tear the shallow streams apart, with what passed for gravity between them warping before their very eyes. It lasted seconds, ten, twelve maybe at most, but it would be engrained in Peter's consciousness forever, featuring in only his most dire nightmares. Looking on, with the brief nightmarish vision all but over, the young dragon noticed a couple of very subtle, and not so subtle, differences. The first was blatantly obvious. Across the well manicured grass two twisting and turning parallel lines, made up from tens of thousands of dark seeds, wove their way along the tunnel, climbing up the arched walls, raking across the ceiling next to the river there, crossing some of the ideally placed branches that littered the streams and waterfalls, always moving deeper into the passageway, resembling fully the outline of a path. Noticeably, the patches of earth where the dandelions had been growing still had the plants there, but instead of the bright yellow flowers, in their place stood their seeds in clusters of two hundred or so, forming stunning looking puffballs that swayed gently in the virtually non-existent breeze, puffballs that every little child and toddler has at some point picked up and blown off the stem.