"But humans... up against dragons?"
"We weren't too shabby back in Salisbridge, were we?"
"That relied an awful lot on luck," Angela stated. "As well, they don't have Gee Tee with them. We do. And we all know what a pivotal part he played in events."
"Give them some credit," chipped in Emma. "If Tank can lead like he plays rugby, the whole thing will be over before we know it."
That made them all chuckle.
With Taibul returning and with nothing else to do but wait, their thoughts turned to their families, who by now would be worried sick about their whereabouts.
42
All Creatures Great and Small
Top of the list of things he wanted to know at the moment, was where the hell was he? As he reached around in the pervading darkness, he couldn't quite fathom what was wrong. Not knowing how he'd got there, didn't help. One moment he was in the middle of the mother of all battles, and next he was here... wherever the hell here was. What he did know though, was that time was of the essence. Somewhere, nearby he assumed, his friends were fighting for not only their lives, but for the dragon way of life and the protection of the humans on the surface. So stumbling forward, not for the first time, he decided to do something that he considered so utterly ridiculous, it bordered on the insane.
"Hello? Is there anybody there?"
Not really expecting any kind of answer, he was more than a little perturbed when haunting laughter drifted out of the darkness.
For the most part out of sight, he called on all his experience, knowing that without it, some of those he cared for and loved would already be dead. Ignoring a ground shaking explosion that hit a wall about fifty metres from where he was tucked away, furiously spewing red hot shards of marble in his direction, Yoyo gave over his full attention to what was happening in and around the group of dragons he thought of as his kin. Of course he didn't have all of them covered, the exceptions being Hillier and Zebediah... wherever they were. He hoped they were cloaked and able to avoid the worst of the battle magic. But he couldn't focus on that now. The group needed him, and so he was here for them, like he'd been ever since the fighting had started.
Noticing the youngest dragon of his young horde, Pixma, had let a hole in her defensive rear shield develop. without even thinking about it, the Australian dragon healer recalled the words he needed inside his head, added the desired amount of willpower and watched as the gap disappeared. Right at that moment, he caught a slight movement in his peripheral vision. Noting a brown coloured naga sneaking its way through an array of cadavers, heading in the general direction of his team, Yoyo's internal sense of danger kicked into overdrive, almost overwhelming him with a sense of urgency. Not knowing what the beast's end game was made things difficult, especially as he was constantly deflecting away the odd magical attack here and there already. With one eye on the rogue naga, Yoyo used a controlled blast of kinetic energy to push his young charge Tarko forward, allowing a missile of deadly poison spores to narrowly miss her legs, whilst at the same time throwing up a huge chunk of rock that had fallen from high above to detonate some kind of magical grenade harmlessly away from them all. Diverting his concentration in these precious few seconds had allowed the devious naga to outflank the whole group, giving him the perfect angle to launch his attack. Worse still, Yoyo could only stand and watch, because his magical abilities were being used up elsewhere in the battle. Telepathically, he urged any of the youngsters to turn around, spot the threat and react to it. Probably because of everything going on, and because it was their first time in battle, none of them took heed of his warning. And so, working furiously with his mind, his hands and arms almost a blur the way he was dishing out his magic, he watched in horror as the sly naga started to cast his supernatural power. Focused fully on the deadly monster about to unleash his attack, and with a sinking feeling of epic proportions set to burst his gargantuan scaled belly, he was surprised to catch a glimpse of the naga's eyes almost popping out of his head. Wondering what on earth had happened to disrupt him during his crucial spell, it was only when he looked down at the reptilian beast's chest that he noticed the blade of a rather futuristic, cold enshrouded weapon poking directly out of it. Full of relief and delight at the outcome, for a moment he wondered where the weapon had come from. If he'd had to take a guess, and that's all it really was, he would have said it was somehow related to the young human woman sitting on the floor in the middle of the chaos, looking more than a little bruised, battered and broken. But just how and why she was doing it was a mystery to him, if that really was the case. All he knew was that they'd once again escaped tragedy by the skin of their teeth. Glad that they had, he turned his concentration back to the matter at hand, but not before sending a writhing tendril of healing energy in the mysterious human's direction, restoring her back to full health in but an instant, knitting her broken ribs back together, reducing the inflammation in her ankle and repairing all her cuts and bruises.
Assessing the threats and the young dragons' propensity to deal with them was all he could do, but up until now their teamwork had paid dividends, keeping them all relatively safe. Deep inside he knew it wouldn't last. The odd glance across the far side of the rebuilt bridge told him that. Reinforcements appeared to be mounting, in both dragon and naga form. As soon as they swarmed across, which they inevitably would, sheer numbers alone would see them defeated. It was all a bit of a disaster, but he vowed to keep on fighting, defending and healing until his last breath, hoping against hope that help of any sort would appear. To be honest, it didn't seem that likely.
Chilled to the bone by the icy cold, white marble floor he found himself lying on, and despite the magic screaming through the air all around him, the current dragon monarch only had eyes for one being... his best friend, comrade in arms, the dragon he thought of as a brother: FREDRIC! Seeing him stride through the magical wormhole had brightened his soul, lifted his spirit and energised the magic within him. But almost immediately things changed. For some unknown reason, the dragon giant and founder of the Crimson Guards had dropped down to his knees, looking a shell shocked wreck, startled beyond belief. Was it the humans here, fighting alongside the dragons? Or maybe he recognised his grandson, his emotions becoming all too much for him. Whatever it was, it didn't bode well. The others needed him in the fight... and NOW! Commanding his broken and beaten body to roll over and up into a sitting position whilst ignoring the blazing pain that burned throughout his human shaped limbs, it was then that a kind of emptiness washed over him, forcing him to feel half the dragon he'd been. Gazing down at his hand, it became immediately obvious what had provoked such a strong reaction. THE RING! Currently now in Tank's possession, George wondered what he'd done wrong. Throughout his guardianship of the precious magical artefact, it had always been stubborn, distant, even aloof at times. But for the most part it had agreed with his decisions, supported his actions and provided him with its inherent power on the occasions that he'd needed it. Not only that, but it had been his constant companion. When he'd not been able to share his thoughts and rationale with anybody else, the ring had come to his aid, giving him good, solid advice, clearly built up from a long history of experience. So why, over the last month or so, had it all gone wrong? Nothing had changed as far as he knew. Of course he was under an extraordinary amount of pressure, but that was nearly always the case. At least that's how it felt. Shoving the puzzling dilemma towards the back of his mind, and ignoring the ear splitting explosions all around him, George reached out with his psyche, searching for one consciousness amongst many, one that he'd interacted with more times than he could remember, one he was sure would recognise him in an instant.