19
Malevolent Majestic Maniac
Slumped forward, balanced precariously on the edge of unconsciousness, the faintest of sounds, getting ever so slightly louder, made his ears prick up like prey fearful of a predator. Shaking his head, hoping to rid himself of the cloying fuzziness that seemed a constant companion since he'd been shackled, he wondered whose footsteps he could hear approaching, and if indeed his time was finally up. Sitting up as straight as he could, not knowing what to expect, shooting streaks of pain blossomed down his neck and across both his shoulders as he struggled against the weight of Tim, who, from the sound of it, was fast asleep. What he wouldn't give for that. Eyes glued to the corner from which the footfalls were fast approaching, mentally he steeled himself for what was about to come. In reality, it did little to prepare him for this. HER!
Cloaked in a shimmering, dark brown dress that sparkled like diamonds in places, he was inexplicably drawn to her overgrown fingernails and the matching polish that adorned them. Thoughts of her drawing blood across his neck outside the council building in front of the huge army flooded his consciousness. Her words startled him out of one nightmare and very much into another.
"Ahhhh... the king's little pet. Lovely!"
Behind his back, he could feel his arms start to shake, as Tim's soft snoring tickled his ears. For a split second he hoped his friend, the White Dragon, would stay asleep for as long as possible, avoiding the terror he himself was currently experiencing.
Leaning casually against the wall, delicately tracing the purple crisscrossing lines of magical madness across her face with one of her extensive fingernails, Manson's queen surveyed the two prisoners in front of her, fully aware of the effect she was having on the one that was awake.
"Substantial injuries you have there. It's a shame, really, that you can't access your magic. Just a tiny sliver is all that's needed."
Through the mist in his head and the pain from his binders, he found it hard to ignore her goading, knowing full well the extent of his injuries and just how much of a mess his face and body must be. So instead of barking out the first retort that jumped up into his head, he just looked on, wondering what the point of her visit was. Perhaps she was just bored, and her sadistic nature needed some amusement. Well he wasn't going to bite... so to speak. He would sit, watch, ignore and take it, even if it meant a beating or worse, something that seemed almost impossible given his current state. A tiny part of him thought about provoking her... stoking her rage, nudging her into a frenzy in the hope that she would get it over with quickly, rather than face the long, lingering, torturous death he was sure Manson had planned for him. But hidden away beneath all the layers of pain, hurt, frustration and self pity, there was still some fight left, bolstered by a determination to see his friends once more, no matter what the cost. And at the back of all of that, burned a light shining brightly, bottled up, kept under wraps, out of the way, for fear of it being discovered: his feelings for JANICE! He knew it was best this way. It was unlikely that they would betray him, but these beings... he had no idea of the extent of their powers. Rumours of creatures able to read thoughts, delve inside another's mind, rummage around and extract information at will, had been around since the beginning of time, but who knew the very real possibilities of this new fighting force? If there was even the remotest chance that they could do this, then he knew he had to keep the memories buried, safe... away from prying eyes, or rather, minds.
"Locking away all your secrets?" she ventured.
Swallowing nervously, he wondered exactly what he'd given away.
"You are an odd one," she announced, padding carefully forward. "I can't yet figure out what an all-powerful being like the king would want with something so weak and pitiful."
Not for the first time... he assumed this was it. In some ways it would be a relief, if it weren't for his friends. He already felt that he'd let them down... particularly Richie, who he knew was somewhere on the surface, blissfully unaware of her true identity, her true heritage, and would suffer the same fate as the rest of humanity when the time came. It broke his heart, because he wasn't able to see a way out, not even a fighting chance for the king and whoever he had alongside him. Not against these odds.
Kneeling down, the fetid aroma of her breath brushed against his face as she leaned in close and whispered,
"I don't suppose you'd like to enlighten me about your relationship with the dragon monarch?"
Tears had built up behind his eyes over the course of the last few seconds, ready to burst through the flimsy dam holding them back, at any moment. Unsure of quite why his relationship with the king was so important, he didn't really care that much. All he knew was that they wanted to know, and that in not giving in, he could fight back and show in his own private way, just how strong he really was. And so even though the tears burst through, he remained stoic, his expression not wavering, all thoughts of giving in gone, despite the fact that her face hovered less than an inch away from his.
As fate looked on, smirking at this particularly bizarre turn of events, even by her standards, something unexplained sat hanging over proceedings, something breathtakingly obvious but to the two of them, as both beings watched one another. Not so much tense, as an air of anticipation, if you'd asked Peter how long it had lasted... it could have been anything... days, weeks, a lifetime. It was, however, more likely a minute, no longer. Without warning, Earth got silently to her feet, filled with more questions than answers. Of course she could have extracted them from him the hard way. But something... something nagging at the back of her mind was holding her back, the same something that had drawn her here, now. Not able to recognise it for what it truly was, almost certainly clouded by the madness in her mind, she skulked back to find her love, keen on an update on exactly when the world would be theirs.
20
Strawberry Blonde... Really?
Slipping through the fires, sticking to the shadows, Steel and the rest of the staff from the medical centre crept ever forward through the capital, avoiding trouble wherever possible. Through shared magic, enhanced senses allowed the small band of mainly nervous dragons to skirt encounters with fearsome dark dragons and parties of raiding nagas.
Skulking around half a dozen blazing fires, longing for the warm embrace the flickering flames promised, the tight knit group, led by the fearless laminium ball player, ducked into the still smouldering wreckage of a row of shops. Abruptly Steel raised his right arm, clenched fist in the air for all to see. Each and every one of them stopped still in total silence, their magical abilities heightened, on the lookout for the slightest hint of danger. From between two huge mounds of twisted metal stepped an almighty ginger coloured dragon, dancing balls of brilliant, bright green electrical energy charging and crackling away in both of his hands, ready to be used in an instant. With words to his shield mantra at the forefront of his mind, ready to be cast into being immediately, Steel stepped forward, almost offering himself up in an effort to protect those who had chosen his leadership.