"The scars and wounds carved into your back from the explosion at the clubhouse are shaped like a dragon. And because of the pigment of your skin, the dragon itself is... WHITE! You are THE WHITE DRAGON!"
Struggling to focus, maintain her composure and ultimately hold the shield in place with her mind, the lacrosse playing dragon's intellect refused to believe what she'd just been told.
"IMPOSSIBLE! You're making it all up!"
"I swear to you Rich that I'm not. It's all one hundred percent true."
"Then you're just mistaken Pete. I'm not the White Dragon, Tim was, he's gone, and it's all my fault."
Terrified that the shield was going to come down, leaving them all at the mercy of the surrounding dread force of nagas and dark dragons, the only way forward Peter could see was to convince his friend that everything he believed was true, so with that in mind, he continued, ignoring the looks Yoyo, Janice, Hook and the other dragons were giving him.
"The day I picked you up from your flat to take you to lacrosse was the day I saw your back. In that moment I knew it was you, Rich. The revelation rocked me to the core, stopped me from sleeping and when I did eventually sleep, it haunted my dreams. In the end I could think of only one thing to do, one thing that might just give me peace of mind, and the confirmation that I needed."
"And what was that?"
"I shared my thoughts on the subject with another being."
"But not me?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I needed somebody objective, somebody whose experience far outweighed my own. If I'd have told you, the conversation would have been exactly like the one we're having now. You'd have told me it wasn't so, and I'd have told you that I believed it to be with every atom in my body, and we'd have gotten nowhere."
"So who did you tell?"
Pausing, running his hands through his hair, more than a little dismayed at the turn of events, he wished to God that he'd never even opened his mouth. Not wanting to, he told her anyway.
"Gee Tee!"
"And what did the all seeing, omnipotent shopkeeper have to say?"
"Honestly? He laughed in my face."
"Really?"
"Really."
"You obviously convinced him though."
"I did, and you wouldn't believe how."
"Try me."
"I shared the memory of seeing your back with him."
"What?"
"The actual memory... I shared it with him."
"Is that even possible?"
"That's a stupid thing to ask when it comes to the Emporium and its owner."
"Agreed, but I'd still like to know how."
"Using a mantra designed by Leonardo da Vinci allowed him to relive everything from that moment, the sounds, smells, my emotions as well as my deepest, darkest secrets."
"REALLY?" exclaimed Richie, hopefully. "Mild mannered Peter Bentwhistle, love machine to the stars, and all round super spy. That's it... you're James Bond aren't you? That's your real identity." She mocked, mercilessly.
"Funny! But it did backfire a little. He found out about Janice."
"Owwww... that couldn't have been good."
"No... it wasn't. Moving on though. As you've already gathered, we shared the memory and once we'd finished, and it took some time, the shopkeeper was a changed dragon."
About to interject, Peter held up his hand in an effort to let him carry on.
"Sceptical before, he immediately revised his decision, agreeing that almost certainly you were the White Dragon the prophecy refers to. After that, it was difficult to know what to do. He convinced me that going to either the king or Council was a bad idea. At the time, I seemed to have totally run out of options."
Richie's face fell at hearing him recall this part of the story, so sad was his voice.
"What did you do?"she asked over the sound of the continued magical bombardment.
"It was then that he showed me the Nissix ring."
"The one on the chain that you begged me to look after?"
"That's right."
"The one containing my dragon memories, the one I'm currently wearing?"
"Yes," he nodded sadly.
"He just gave it to you?"
"NO! I stole it."
"You're kidding?"
"No. I really did steal it."
"Why?"
"Because he showed it to me, wowed me with what it could do, knowing full well that I would relate it to your predicament, and then refused to give it to me when I asked. I think at the time, it might have all been too much for him."
"So you just took it?"
"I did, and I'm reasonably sure he knew I did."
"I think you're right. When we met up below ground on the outskirts of Salisbridge, he wasn't surprised to see me wearing the ring."
"You've seen him?"
"Yes... we travelled up to London as a group together."
"Then they're on their way here to back us up, right?"
"I'm sorry to say they're not. Right at this very moment, they should be mounting an assault on the crystal node at Fleet Street, in an effort to retake it and restore communications across the planet. Any hope of them coming to our rescue should be forgotten because it just isn't going to happen," she stated, totally dashing his hopes.
"Well, that's about the long and the short of it. With everything going on, I haven't had a chance to discuss the prophecy with the master mantra maker, and so we've done nothing about it. But he, like me, is totally convinced that you're the White Dragon. What is it?" he asked noticing the strange, faraway look that had descended over her face.
"I'm just remembering the last conversations I had with him. What you've just told me brings a whole new light to some of the things he said. I hope they're all okay."
"I'm sure they'll all be fine."
"I do hope so."
It was then that a tiny little nudge, like a gentle rap on the door deep within their minds, made them aware that Yoyo and his street band of dragons were almost ready to start. It was time to recover their friends and bring a little bit more pain and misery to the enemy. Bring it on!
Slipping away, that's how it felt, almost as though he were being pulled into a never ending, bottomless abyss. Of course he fought, after all, that's what he did best, but despite his heroic efforts, nothing he did made any sort of difference. Hope seeped out of him at an alarming rate, leaving his rational mind to come to terms with the fact he was about to die. Not for the first time. Clawing at the myriad of thoughts scrabbling around his head, as his life force ebbed away, he searched for answers to questions he hadn't even thought of yet. Confused, dumbfounded, frustrated and more than a little frightened, the courageous dragon rallied against the inevitable, his mind fighting on every front. Talons pierced hardened rock in an effort not to be dragged further towards the end, but it still wasn't enough. A force more powerful than anything in the universe had its grip on him, and one way or another, death would get its man, or in this case... DRAGON!
Hope having all but disappeared, fear surrounded him, commanding him to surrender, mocking him for trying to escape the inescapable. Unable to organise his thoughts in any meaningful manner, exhausted by the assault of constant pain, slowly his will started to relinquish its refusal to give in, accepting the fate ahead of it, long in the calling. It was then that what little remained of him shuddered ferociously, almost crying out in fear and terror as it recognised something slippery, scary and serpent-like. In a desperate attempt to get away his mind scratched and fumbled, dug and groped at everything around it, panic overwhelming the fear and genuine alarm he felt.