Giant, purposeful strides reverberated around the hallowed sanctuary as the matt black personification of evil headed Tim's way.
Concealed from view behind the vent, her essence shrouded by the cloak, Richie stood up, banging her head for her trouble, trying to see how Tim had landed. 'Awkwardly' best described it.
Across the way, Manson savoured the moment, Earth likewise.
Fighting her urge to drop down and kick the mighty dragon's arse, Richie kept telling herself,
'He won't kill him, he's far too valuable,' hoping that if she said it enough, it would make it true. Unfortunately for her... it didn't!
Picking up the shattered body of the famed White Dragon, in one swift and deadly motion, Troydenn tore Tim in two.
Time stopped, as blood and guts hung motionless in the air. Voices ceased to sound. Surprise had found its niche and was doing a little jig at how accomplished it had become. Hope died. Love lost. But in that tiny sliver of a moment one thing above all happened... righteous fury ignited!
Turning to face every other being there, the two parts of Tim's destroyed body held high above his head for effect, Troydenn's smile couldn't have been any bigger or bolder... he was in his element and took delight in seeing almost every different emotion possible play out right in front of him. The king's dejected face and crushed spirit were the icing on top of the cake.
Apart from Tim's blood dripping onto the marble from a great height, silence reigned. That is until a huge twisted wreck of a metal plate clanged firmly onto the floor against the wall behind Troydenn's singular victory parade. Everyone, especially Manson, his queen and the dark troops, all glanced up to see what had happened, but only a sullen dark hole remained, nothing at all visible inside. Having checked for danger and found none, every being's attention turned back to the mammoth monster, the dark destroyer, the primordial pariah. Strangely, he remained totally and utterly motionless, even his twisted grin of sick satisfaction unmoving.
'Odd,' thought almost everyone. That is until the reason why presented itself. Or should I say, herself?!
It was so close. That's all he knew, feeling even now the magic-laden blade within a heartbeat of taking his life. Now that he knew what to look for, he could sense another being beneath him, cloaked in the shadows his massive body created. But something, other than the obvious threat to his life, was wrong. On no account could he tell who or what this other being was. He had to assume it was a dragon, but it made no sense. If that were the case, surely he'd have recognised them, and would have acknowledged the threat long before it had got within his personal space. But if not dragon, then what? Naga? Certainly not human, that was for sure. Those puny, uneducated, self absorbed weaklings were way too cowardly to attempt such an audacious act. Currently though, it mattered not. What mattered was getting his son to act, to preserve his life, even if it put a dent in their plans. There would be another time, another place. The only thing of importance was that he lived.
In but an instant, more swords were drawn. Magic crackled and sparked as it was brought forth, yet to be released. Everyone became on guard.
Having aggressively ripped off the metal vent, Richie had tumbled to the ground behind it, letting it shield her from everyone's view. Moving faster than she ever had before, she'd slipped beneath Troydenn's massive, matt black belly, into the shadow created by his huge left leg, and slid her laminium dagger quite a long way into the evil dragon's weak spot, almost replicating what George had done with his well worn two-handed sword all those years ago. The tip of the dagger was now only millimetres from doing to Troydenn, what he'd just done to Tim. Ironic really, but that was lost on Richie, because she was way too far gone.
He couldn't help it, he really couldn't, despite the fact that he knew it was wrong. A smirk so smug that it could have belonged to a newly elected politician wriggled across the king's face, half of which was currently pressed against the cold marble of the floor. His view of what had occurred was wrong by about ninety degrees, but he couldn't have cared less, amazed at the sudden turnaround of events. Knowing the strength of feeling the young woman holding Troydenn to task had for the former White Dragon, it didn't take a genius to work out that things in the immediate future were going to go very badly for Tim's killer. Where that left all of them though, was anybody's guess.
"What the hell?" screamed Peter's brain as he blinked furiously, effectively doing a double take. "How is it possible she's here? The world's gone totally and utterly mad." It was then that he spotted it, sitting innocuously on her finger, the ring of dark metal, tiny blue triangles just visible through the gloom. It didn't explain how or why she was here, but he did at least understand what had gone on. She'd put on the ring and rediscovered her dragon memories. His friend was back. Back to her true self.
Revulsion at Tim's disgusting death instantaneously turned to hope as his friend stepped out of the shadows, fulfilling her vow to him about being there when needed. How she must have felt, he couldn't possibly even begin to guess. Witnessing the love of her life torn apart in front of her must have been enough to almost drive her insane. Silently he whispered a prayer for her, trusting that she would do the right thing, not just for Tim or herself, but for all of those here and indeed across the planet.
Eyes remaining closed, it was almost as if she could see what had happened through the link that she'd forged with Fu-ts'ang. Outraged at the death of Tim, a warm trickle of relief filled her body at seeing the young lacrosse player gripping the hilt of her dagger, the blade of which was clearly stuck well into the monstrous dark dragon. A sense of relief swept across her mind, something Fu-ts'ang picked up through their bond, reinforcing that it was good Richie had joined the fight, but that now was not the time to be complacent or unfocused. The time was near at hand, he murmured, and they both had to be ready.
Almost succumbing to the pain gnawing at his broken bones and the despair squeezing at his weakened mind after having watched Tim's body stretched and finally broken in two, Hook's resolve returned ever so slightly at the sight of the being he considered his leader. After all, she was the one he'd followed down here, and the one that had got them all into this mess. For her to be here now was nothing short of magnificent, and something of a fairy tale ending. He just hoped that ending played out in their favour.
Stepping out of the shadows, still maintaining the grip on her dagger, which very firmly remained well inside Troydenn's weak spot, mere millimetres away from ending his life, Richie's face betrayed no sense of the emotional turmoil her body now felt. Anger, rage, confusion, loss... it was all there, buried deep beneath the overwhelming red mist that threatened to lead her down a very unwise path.
"AHHHH... If it isn't the pathetic little lacrosse playing dragon from Salisbridge. I'd heard you'd had your memory wiped and been turned into a human... how disappointing."
Part of her baulked at Manson's words, that were no doubt meant to sting her. But she shrugged it off, knowing full well that she was now in control of the situation.
Watching as Manson tried to get a rise out of her, Peter hoped to hell that Richie remembered the much bigger picture that was going on around her. She wanted to kill the monstrosity of a matt black dragon that she found herself nestled beneath, of that he was certain. But if she did, then they had no leverage over Manson and his bloodthirsty cohorts. Instead, she needed to remain calm, bargain to get them all released and then perhaps once back in the wider world it might be possible to regroup, assess the threat, and begin the process of winning back the dragon domain and returning the rightful king to his throne. One diabolical act of revenge right now, was no good to anyone.