Realising that whatever she was going to do, she'd have to do it fast, without hesitation she let the battle take her, and fuelled by thoughts of those already killed, and the danger to her monarch, she did something most dragons would find utterly impossible. Her burst of speed had put her directly beneath her spiky, would-be attacker. That was why he couldn't see her anywhere, and that was what was about to cost him his life. Instinctively Captain Battlehard, all the time mirroring her opponent's moves from below, inverted, difficult at the best of times, all but impossible when flying in the shadow of another dragon. But she pulled it off with consummate ease, being the forward thinking, risk taking daredevil that she was. With the delicate current of air now tickling her back, and looking straight up at her attacker's slightly larger body, any number of means to take him down whistled through her mind. In the end, she chose the most obvious, still wary of her unprotected charges. Clenching the talons on both her feet together, in one fell swoop she thrust them simultaneously into the wings of her enemy and raked them across, then down, as far as she dared. The result was immediate. In that instant, 'Spiky' had no idea what hit him, until his crazed and confused face passed within inches of a very pleased with herself Captain Battlehard, who watched the tumbling, out of control death dive with a great deal of satisfaction. Only then, and with one less enemy from a hundred to deal with, did her attention return to what she was supposed to be dealing with: covering those who she'd pledged to defend, in an effort to draw fire away from her king, hoping to at the very least give him a fighting chance. But to her absolute horror and astonishment, George, now looking magnificent in his natural dragon form, the rightful monarch of this failing dragon domain, had appeared in her position, directly above the small cluster she'd been defending, rallying his troops, preparing himself to take on all comers. Swiftly she plummeted in his direction, pulling up at the very last moment.
"Sire... what are you doing here?"she enquired.
"I'm doing what every great monarch would do in this position. I'm fighting with my kin. I wouldn't ask you to do anything I'm not willing to do. Look around you Amelia, what do you see?"
Tentatively, the young captain glanced around. Before she had a chance to say anything, the king spoke up.
"Evil everywhere," he announced, "all wanting to kill us, except for me of course. I'm sure they have very specific plans for me. Well, as far I'm concerned, it ends here... and NOW! No quarter given, no laying down arms, no surrender... WE FIGHT WITH EVERY LAST BREATH... for ourselves, for each other and for those defenceless creatures who can't do it themselves. Across the globe, the human population has virtually no idea what's going on here and exactly what impact it will have on them if we fail. And it will have an impact. They'll be hunted down, killed in packs and on their own, used by these atrocious beings as sport, slaves or for other perverse pleasures. I'll tell you now, that only happens over my dead body. With my dying breath I will defend and protect every last noble being on this wonderful, beautiful, bountiful planet. I'm in charge, and so help me God, I'm going to make these scum sucking cockwombles (he'd heard Peter and his friends use this world, and had instantly taken a liking to it) pay for every single dragon and human they've slain."
A little taken aback at first, the start of a small smile slid across Captain Battlehard's scale encrusted face at the thought of the king having his mojo back. The passion and commitment with which he spoke roused her hopes, and although it didn't quite fill her with confidence, mainly because of just how badly outnumbered they were, she did at least know that dying for this dragon and the cause he supported was not only the right thing to do, but the only thing to do. Glancing down, she realised those below her had heard every single word and were on exactly the same page. As Manson's reinforcements started to arrive, George and Captain Battlehard hovered back to back, covering their buddies beneath them, readying themselves for the onslaught.
"RICH!... we need to get out there!" he screamed. "Flash is hurt!"
Swallowing awkwardly, she continued to let the magic from the necklace that Yoyo had thrust around her neck flow continually through her, using it to power the shield under which they all sheltered. Steadying herself and ignoring the build up of heat not only in her hands from the dagger, but now around her throat, she moved her head barely an inch to look one of her two best friends in the eyes.
"We can't do it Pete. You know that. I'm sorry."
"But..."
"PETER! Dropping the shield means instant death for all of us. What would you have me do?"
She hadn't meant to be so harsh, but that's exactly what she had to be, having seen the sacrifice Flash had made for his king, watched in slow motion as his burnt and smoking body toppled to the floor, fought off the need to cry out in pain and ignored the urge to drop the shield and go to his rescue. Now she felt trapped in the most precarious position she'd ever known. Every fibre of her being called out for her to fight, use all her magic to harm those vile, wretched monsters for all that they'd done, and all that they continued to do. The merest glimpse over her shoulder, however, told her to stay put and continue to keep Yoyo and his young dragons, Hook, Janice and of course Peter, safe, by maintaining the shield that was still being constantly bombarded by onrushing dragons in the air, and nagas on the ground. It was an impossible situation.
"I'm sorry Pete," she called out, turning once again to look out at the battlefield, "but I just can't do it. You know that, maybe not in your heart, but your head fully understands."
And truthfully, he did, he just didn't want it to be so.
"What can I do to help, Rich?"
"Continue to funnel your magic and keep my hands and throat cool. If you can do that, it'll be easier for me to concentrate. And if you spot anything that you think might help get us out of this situation, don't hesitate to let me know."
Nodding his agreement and understanding, he trickled the tiniest amount of healing magic across his friend's hands and coated her neck, absorbing the residual build up of heat, all the time holding the hand of the woman he loved, hoping to hell that she was having better luck attacking than they currently were.
'So many targets,' he thought, momentarily confused. Immediately she agreed with him, but her firm and concise thinking was exactly what he needed to regain perspective, regain focus and remind him of his purpose.
Their bond was extraordinary and had reached dizzying new heights, getting stronger with each second that passed. Both could read the other's mind, hear the other's thoughts as if they were right there, and now they were starting to sense emotions across the connection. It was truly awe inspiring, at least that's how Janice viewed it. For Fu-ts'ang it was all of that and more, with the more being set free, after centuries of being locked away in Gee Tee's magical vault deep beneath the Mantra Emporium. Like a bird finally being released from its long term cage, the ecstasy Fu-ts'ang felt at coursing through the air, the wind whipping across the razor sharp edge of his cold, cutting blade, was like nothing he'd ever felt. And of course Janice was now starting to feel it, something so rapturous it was hard to ignore. But ignore it she did, all, of course, for the sake of the mission.
"You have to continue," she urged the dragon slaying weapon from the relative safety of her warm and slightly strange mind.