“The council is in session,” the Clerk to the Elder said at a fairly normal volume, but with a certain amount of pomp, “all rise for the Elder of Elders.”
Llewellyn, as usual, swept in from his vestry and sat in his chair, the other Elders followed suit.
Llewellyn spoke. “High Elder Flintock and I have just met with his great uncle Faraji Mwita Osei and Songhai Chen. Earlier, in the Blue Mountains, Flintock met with his great uncle Faraji and Muenda Mwita Osei, also Flintock’s great uncle and the younger twin of Faraji. Muenda is known to us as the Master,” there was an audible gasp by the assembled High Elders and some mumbling to each other. “Now, before you question Flintock’s loyalty to the cause if a blood relative is involved’ then you need have no fear. Flintock is devoted to the destruction of the Master as much as any of us here. But there are complications. I will hand over now to High Elder Flintock to continue.”
“Firstly, I must explain that until today, I knew nothing of a second great uncle, Muenda Mwita Osei. My great uncle Faraji is the one who brought me out of Africa as a child and eventually here to Trymyll. My two great uncles have fought a sort of proxy war for most of their lives. Each has had the opportunity, many times to kill the other. Bloodlines are thick, but magic lines are thicker. They fear that if one kills the other, both will die. So, they have this pretence that the reason neither kills the other is because each hope that the other will join them in either a quest for power and destruction of humanity or for the greater good of humankind, while both knowing that it will never happen. There is also a possibility, that, due to my bloodline and magical inheritance, I too may die if the Master is killed. However, I do not believe that to be true, as my power comes from my father, not from either of them. Even if it were true, then I would not hesitate to destroy the Master given the chance, and accept my fate, even if it meant my own demise,” a murmur of approval went around the room. “however, if we are faced in battle, do not rely on Faraji to strike the fatal blow, because I do not believe he will do it.” Flintock sat down while the others muttered to each other for a few seconds.
“What wisdom did you learn from the small Chinese man Songhai Chen?” enquired High Elder Penvro Dey of Wrth y Môr.
Llewellyn rose. “Very little, he never answers a question directly, he only speaks in riddles which none of us can understand.”
“For example?” asked Penvro Dey.
“Well, when asked if he agreed that should one twin kill the other then both would perish, he answered, ‘That is simple, if one twin, linked by both birth and magic kills the other twin, then both will die, and one will live.’”
“I see what you mean,” Penvro Dey, “So what did he tell you that would be of any help?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing.”
They were interrupted by a sharp and urgent knock at the door. It was one of the city guards.
“’Scuse me yer High Elderships,” he stammered, “there’s ‘bout a fousand Blue Dragons ‘eading this way and they don’t look too friendly.”
“To the battlements,” Llewellyn said. He and Flintock quickly apparated out of the chamber with the other High Elders scampering behind, they still had not understood that apparation was possible from anywhere in the city.
On the castle walls, they found Jonathan and Thomas with their mother staring out at the gathering mass of Blue Dragons.
“Right, you three, get below and out of harm's way.” Llewellyn barked.
“Not on your Nelly,” Gwen said, “I’m stopping and so are the boys. We wouldn’t miss this for the world. Boys, summon your dragons.”
Ren and Bevon appeared next to the castle walls.
“Now summon the rest,” Gwen said.
“What do you mean? We only have one each,” said Tom.
“Not you, Jonathan, summon the Red Dragons, you’re supposed to be a Dragon Master after all.”
Jon looked at Bevon, Bevon nodded as if to say, leave it with me.
The five of them then stood, surrounded by the elders, staring at the dark cloud of Blue Dragons which just circled above them. Why did they not attack? What were they waiting for?
A few minutes later, over the horizon, Jon could feel the approach of several hundred Red Dragons. Jon held the stone on top of his staff, it pulsated and glowed blood red beneath his hand. He didn’t know how, but somehow, he was connected to them all.
Llewellyn spoke. “Look at all those Blue Dragons, there must be well over a thousand of them circling in the sky, what are they waiting for?”
“There is one thousand, three hundred and twenty-nine of them.” Jon blurted out.
“How can you know that?” Tom asked.
“I don’t know, but I do, and there are three hundred and seventy Red Dragons on the way, all of them are battle dragons and I know the exact position of each of them, but again, I don’t know how or why.”
Within minutes, the Red Dragons were with them. Jon leapt from the castle wall and onto Bevon’s neck and they launched skyward. Jon was indeed, somehow connected to all the other Red Dragons. He split them into groups and each group headed out and up towards the circling Blue Dragons. He knew they were outnumbered, but he and Bevon had seen off a dozen on their own, so he was not at all worried about the odds. Jon loosed a massive bolt of energy from his staff which vaporised three of the leading Blue Dragons and ripped the patagia from the wings of another five sending them spinning toward the ground. If they survived the fall, there were wizards on the ground ready to finish them off. Eight in one hit, it must be a world record, if they have such things in Trymyll. That was taken as the signal for battle to commence. The Red Dragons flew in tight formations scattering the loose and untidy formations of the Blue Dragons. There was fire and energy shooting in all directions, Dragons were falling to the left and right. He didn’t know how, but Jonathan was guiding the fight, almost controlling the nearly four hundred Red Dragons. He could see through all their eyes everything that was going on, how he was processing so much information, he did not know. Blue Dragons fell by the score and occasionally, and unfortunately, the odd Red Dragon as well. Ren was busy, he was up there, impervious to any attack, playing mind games with them; causing Blue Dragons to attack other Blue Dragons, watching them fall from the sky as they momentarily were persuaded that they could not fly, crashing to the ground below and being quickly dispatched by the wizards on the ground. The High Elders stood on the battlements amazed. If a Blue Dragon came near, one of them would take a pot-shot at it and bring it down. Llewellyn, Flintock and Tom were all up on their staffs, weaving in and out taking them down one by one, Gwen watched anxiously from the castle wall, her heart beating at twice its normal pace but full of pride for ‘her’ boys, all four of them. Although they had tried to hide their involvement in past battles from her, she knew every detail and was egging them on, punching the air and screaming at them. Twenty minutes later, it was all over, about a dozen Blue Dragons tried to high tail out of the battle but Bevan and Jon soon caught up and finished them off. At the end of the day, all one thousand, three hundred and twenty-nine Blue Dragons were destroyed, and seven Red Dragons lost their lives.
Bevon returned Jon to the battlements and Llewellyn, Flintock and Tom all landed next to the others. They were busy congratulating each other and the other elders who had taken down a few dragons as well, missing the fact that the other elders had also taken down three of the Red Dragons due to their lousy aim. Although Jon was the real hero of the moment, the others all forgot about him for a few moments, but when they did turn to him, Jonathan was not celebrating at all, instead, he was filled with sorrow for the seven Red Dragons they had lost, especially the three lost to friendly fire.
Bevon tried to comfort him. “Jon, Jon, it was a great victory, there are always losses in battle, you are a great strategist, thanks to you, not one of the Blue Dragons escaped, we lost seven, yes, we will mourn them, but they died with honour....”
“Where is the honour in death?” Jon said sharply, “they were beautiful creatures, proud, brave and magnificent Red Dragons, battle dragons of the highest order. How can you not mourn their passing?”
“We do mourn, we all mourn. As dragons, we even mourn the one thousand three hundred and twenty-nine Blue Dragons. All life is precious, even Blue Dragon lives matter, but think about it, over one thousand Blue Dragons dead and yet you shed not a single tear for them, seven Red Dragons and you weep. The Blue Dragons, they too had mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters, but no one here mourns them, there is not even one that escaped carrying the news back to the Blue Mountains, we saw to that when we chased down the last survivors. So how can they mourn? How can their mothers, their fathers, their brothers, and sisters mourn? They do not even know of their loss.”
“That does not make me feel any better, it makes me feel worse.”
“It is the reality of war, and yes, this is a war. If the Blue Dragons had unleashed their fire on the city, think of the destruction and loss of life. There would be few if any survivors. Some wizards perhaps, but all the phobls would be dead or mortally wounded. If the city were razed to the ground by their fire, the utter destruction of all you hold dear; what then? What you did today was brave and saved many lives. Be proud of your victory...”
“No!” shouted Jonathan. “Go away. Leave me alone. Go away. All of you.”
They didn’t have to go anywhere as Jon then apparated away, all the way to the Blue Mountains.”