SDBH:UiP AU fic: Nightfall Sheen recieves 7 tickets to the biggest event in Draconia: The Big Burning Bash! There's one for everygon in his circle of friends, plus his assistant, Wishful. Nothing can go wrong! ...Right?
Small Dragons, Big hearts: Unity is Power: S1E02—Midnight Darkscales is no more. Nightfall Sheen, his assistant Wishful Legend and his new circle of friends all played a part in purifying the corrupted brother of Lord Lumin and restoring Lord Umbra to normal.
In honor of this, Nightfall is sent seven tickets to the next Big Burning Bash: the biggest event in all of Draconia! With seven tickets, there's no conflict to resolve, right? Aside from his friends having unrealistic expectations, what could possibly go wrong when everygon—plus one filly—has their own ticket?
It was a bright and sunny day in Dragontown. The sun shone out radiantly, the sky was clear, and the market was bustling with dragons going hither and thither.
But most importantly, Nightfall was starving. Practically famished, in fact. Or so he kept muttering within Wishful’s earshot as she trotted alongside him. “I really should’ve eaten breakfast this morning…”
Wishful rolled her eyes and let out a little giggle. “Nightfall, you say that every morning. Even when you do eat breakfast. And it always goes the same way; you go to Apple Slice’s stall, load up on too many apples, and then we don’t know what to do with them. I’m still trying to figure out if we should give them all to Goody to make a pie… or a dozen.”
“I do not! That was barely two bowls full last time. And besides, wouldn’t it be a Baker’s dozen, technically?” He shot back, his stomach still growling as he made his way through the maze of market stalls. Everything just looked so delicious; carrots, onions, potatoes and garlic lay in sacks scattered around the stalls. Crates and barrels full of fruits of every variety he could want tempted him with their sweet aromas. Cuts of fresh meat lay hidden away in iceboxes. A broken crate of ripe oranges served as the base of one stall, though the vendor had to keep grabbing the oranges before they rolled out of the bottom.
Soon enough, he made his way to his usual, and probably the largest by produce volume, stall in the marketplace; the Apple Clan’s. And as usual, Apple Slice was behind the stall, haggling with a pair of loud customers who clearly didn’t value a good apple as much as Nightfall did, while Ambrosia looked on and just shook her head. As Nightfall got closer, he was just able to make out exactly what was being said, as the nearer he got, the louder the hagglers got. “Two and ten? That’s practically highway robbery, and you know it! One and ten seems much more fair! Come on, we have a family to feed here!”
Apple Slice rolled his eyes. “An’ how exactly do ya expect meh ta feed mah family at those ridiculous prices? Ah’ve already cut it down ta almost half! What do ya want, a complimentary apple strudel ta go with it? ‘Sides, Ah don’t think yer family will be goin’ hungry with the Hoards y'all make anytime soon. Ah don’t think three mouths are that hard ta keep fed. Now kindly close yer traps, and gimme Two and Five, Gwynnia darn it! And if y'all can’t take that, then go and buy from somegon else’s stall!”
The two dragons finally begrudgingly handed over the Hoard notes and took their basket of apples before rearing up onto their hind legs and stomping away with their snouts in the air, their posture practically daring anygon to step in their path. As the usual mutters and head shaking from the other vendors followed, Apple Slice slumped forward, banging his forehead on the front of his stall. “Ah swear, some dragons wouldn’t know a fair price fer somegon else’s hard work if it whacked them in the head with a cast-iron skillet. Ah wish Ah could have some customers that don’t try ta gouge meh fer once. Oh well…”
At that moment, he conveniently noticed Nightfall standing nearby, and looked up with a smile. “Close enough. Howdy Nightfall!” He waved a claw towards him. “Come on over. It should be about lunchtime fer ya, huh?”
“He forgot breakfast. Again.” Wishful said in a stage whisper. Nightfall rolled his eyes and raised a claw in protest.
“Hey, I didn’t forget breakfast. I skipped it because it’s the end of the month, and we’re low on cash until we get the money from my folks in the mail this afternoon.”
“We wouldn’t be low on cash if you didn’t keep buying apples practically in bulk,” Wishful replied with a shake of her head. “In fact, we’d probably actually have enough left over for you to actually save up some. Maybe even open a bank account you can access? A checking account this time, perhaps?”
“Hey, it’s not my fault my bank account is all the way back in El Dragado—”
“Uh, y'all two? It’s nice ta see ya two talkin’ responsible money management and all, but if yer here ta buy somethin’, Ah suggest ya do it. As much as Ah like y'all, Ah do have other customers.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” Nightfall nodded, taking out his money pouch. But as he looked into it, he had a feeling that if he paid full price for what he needed this time, there’d be only dead flies and dust bunnies left in the pouch… Well, that and a certain diamond coin Lord Lumin told him to only use in the most dire of circumstances. While his stomach might protest otherwise, he was not quite there yet. And even if he was, he doubted Apple Slice could break a coin that valuable and not go instantly into debt. “Uh… Slice? I have a tiny request.” He shifted slightly, trying not to look too desperate. “Could you… Could you maybe give me a teensy discount this time? I’m kind of short on funds, and I don’t ge—”
“Say no more, pardner! Yer mah best customer, anyways. Can ya gimme two and fifteen and let’s call it a deal?” Nightfall blinked. He was expecting three at best. He might actually have a few Treasure coins left before the month was over, for once.
“Sure, that’ll do.” He handed a few Hoard notes and a small stack of Treasure coins over to Slice, who quickly stowed them in a sturdy coin box behind the stall he kept for that purpose. “Thank you, Slice. You’re a life—er, cash saver!”
Slice smiled back, “Shucks, think nothin’ of it. Thank ya fer actually paying almost full price the rest of the time. That’s more than some dragons will do.” At that moment, a little timer behind the counter dinged, and Apple Slice breathed a sigh of relief. “An’ that’s mah lunch break. Yer lucky ya got here just as Ah was about ta change shifts. Hey, Ambrosia!” He called over his shoulder.
“Eyyup, Slice?” She called back, heading towards the counter, lugging another barrel of apples behind her.
“Could ya take over now? It’s mah lunch break.”
“Sure thing, Slice. Ah’ll see ya at the house fer dinner then?”
“Yep.” he replied as he handed the key to the coin box over to her, and slung his pack over his shoulder. He looked over at Nightfall and Wishful, dropping the usual basket of apples into Nightfall’s waiting claws. “Ah don’t suppose y’all got anywhere ta go ‘sides here today?”
“Other than feed Nightfall’s nigh-insatiable lunchtime appetite? Nope.” Wishful said, giving her father-figure a pointed look. Nightfall opened his mouth to protest that his appetite was perfectly fine for a Dragoon his age, when his stomach betrayed him yet again. He sighed and shook his head, looking up at Apple Slice.
“No, we don’t. I was going to reorganize the B section of the bookshelves—”
“You mean the ones you had me reorganize most of yesterday afternoon?” Wishful snarked.
“Hey, it can’t hurt to double check!”
Apple Slice cleared his throat. “Ahem, guys? Since y’all have nothin’ goin’ on, would ya mind comin’ back towards mah house? Ah’d kinda like ta have somegon ta have a chat with on mah walk back.”
Nightfall looked towards Wishful, and she gave a shrug in response. Nightfall nodded, reaching into the basket for an apple. “Alright, fine.” Crunch. He bit into the apple as he started to follow Slice, who had almost immediately taken that as his cue to head back towards his house, weaving his way expertly through the maze of market stalls and back into the open square. Nightfall and Wishful weren’t far behind, though the purple Dragoon still tended to get slightly lost in the marketplace. A week living here, and he still got turned around while exploring Dragontown sometimes.
The three of them made their way towards the edge of town, as Apple Slice talked with them, his frustration evident. “…an’ would ya believe that derned high-falutin’ Mint family wanted ta buy mah apples at less than even half price? Ah don’t know which was worse; Gilded or Silvered!” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Well, if Ah had to pick Ah’d say Gilded. She’s got Silvered so henpecked Ah think he can barely step outside without her complaining about too much sun, and making him go back and get her hat. Ah swear, those two don’t even seem ta care about the bad example they’re setting fer poor Gold Watch. That Dragonling’s gonna pick up their bad habits if they keep it up long enough, and Gwynnia only knows how much of a disaster it would be fer three Mints ta be running around town like they own the whole darn place.”
Nightfall nodded mutely, munching on his fourth apple as he continued listening attentively to Slice’s grievances.
“Ah just don’t know what ta do sometimes. We raise the most produce in the whole town, but ‘sides you, nogon ever seems ta pay near full price fer mah apples ‘sides you and the other four. Heck, and Timmy usually lets meh keep all the change since he usually wants ta get out of the market lickety-split.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Ah just wish Ah could go somewhere ta sell and be gua-ran-teed ta git full value fer meh and mah sister’s hard work, ya know? Ah would do anyth—”
At that moment, and as Nightfall was about to bite into his fifth apple, Apple Slice was cut off by a loud pop as a scroll appeared in front of Wishful in a burst of golden light. Nightfall instinctively bit down on the apple and right through the core, his eyes watering as Wishful took the scroll in front of her in her magic. “You okay there, pardner?” Slice said, looking over to see Nightfall coughing and spitting out apple seeds onto the ground. “Or are ya just trying to grow an orchard of yer own?”
“I’m… fine.” Nightfall managed to sputter out, before prying a large piece of core out from between his fangs and tossing it aside. “I’m fine now, don’t worry,” he said, pointedly ignoring the skeptical look Slice shot him. “Seriously, I just bit off more than I could chew. Wishful, the scroll, if you would?” He turned to the filly.
“Got it,” Wishful said, unfurling the scroll. To the trio’s surprise, seven tickets fell out of the scroll and into Nightfall’s claws. As Nightfall peered down at the tiny writing on the tickets with V.I.G. (for Very Important Guest) on them in bold, blocky letters, Wishful cleared her throat and began to read:
Their Royal Highnesses, Lords Lumin and Umbra, are pleased to announce the Big Burning Bash on the 21st of March, 5001 Sine Rex et Regina, to be held in the magnificent city of El Dragado. Their Highnesses cordially extend an invitation to Nightfall Sheen, Wishful Legend, and the Bearers of the Components of Balance, in gratitude for services rendered to the Crown and Country.
Sincerely,
Lord Lumin Draconis and Lord Umbra Draconis
Regents and Princes of Draconia
Caretakers of the Sun and Moon
VIVAT DRACONIA. VT GWYNNIA ET CONIVNX BENEDICAM EAM PER OMNIA SAECVLA SAECVLORVM.
As Wishful finished reading the scroll and rolled it back up, she found Apple Slice looking at her with confusion. “Okay, Ah understood most of that. Now, before Ah can get excited about gettin’ ta go ta the biggest bash in Draconia, can ya please tell meh what in Gwynnia’s name that fancy Old Draconic means?” He looked over her shoulder to peer at the letter, “And why is that written with a V where the U should be?”
Unbeknownst to him, this line of inquiry managed to send Nightfall into full-blown nerd mode, as his smile was looking ready to crack his jaw if he repressed it any longer. “Well, this is actually pretty fascinating! See, because we needed a fairly unchanging language for certain legal documents, the Prince—er, Princes—use Old Draconic as part of their formal letters, particularly for the usual official postscript and our calendar year nomenclature. You know how we say S.R.R. after the year number, right?”
Apple Slice took a few seconds to try to process a few of those more difficult words, before nodding as he guessed the meanings, “Ah guess so. Ah always wondered what it actually meant.”
Nightfall’s expression practically begged for Slice to ask him, so he let out a sigh of resignation and asked, “And what does S.R.R. mean?”
“Sine Rex et Regina!” Nightfall piped up, looking like a dog that’d just been thrown a squeak-toy. “It means ‘Without the King and Queen,’ in modern Draconic, thus delineating the years since their absence began. Oh, and the postscript at the end, ‘Vivat Draconia. Ut Gwynnia et coniunx benedicam eam per omnia saecula saeculorum’? That translates to ‘Long live Draconia. May Gwynnia and her mate bless her unto ages of ages’; well, technically it just means ‘forever’ paraphrased, but per omnia saecula saeculorum literally means ‘unto ages of ages,’ similar to the ancient Fairy Draconic phrase eis tous aionos ton aionon which means roughly the same. This was derived in turn from one of the languages of the ancient Orions before…”
At this point, Slice had gotten hopelessly lost in Nightfall’s impassioned linguistics ramble, slightly regretting having brought it up in the first place.
“Nightfall, no offense, but yer harder ta follow than a lost houndog in the woods,” Slice cut in bluntly, wincing a little at the disappointed look Nightfall shot him.
“But I never get to talk about this sort of thing much…” Nightfall muttered wistfully, before shaking his head with a sigh. After a few moments he looked back up at Slice with his best attempt at an awkward smile. “So… um, anyways, what do you want to do at the Bash?”
Slice thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up as an idea hit him. “Ah… hmm, Ah could sell mah family’s best dishes there! An’ everygon’d pay full price, fer once! El Dragado dragons are known ta appreciate the full value of a dragon’s hard work.” He was looking more and more excited about it by the second, enough so that Nightfall had to repress his urge to try to insert reality into the farmer’s profit fantasy. Slice didn’t notice Nightfall’s sceptical expression, and just went on imagining the Bash that was to come. “Praise Gwynnia, this is the best thing ta ever happen ta meh!” The orange Dragoon looked ready to leap into the air and try to fly to El Dragado himself that very moment. However, practicality ensued, and the Dragoon dropped back into a more relaxed posture, a little frown across his snout as the first problem to be fixed came to mind. “Don’ have anythin’ ta wear, though. Gonna hafta talk ta Extra ‘bout that little problem. Good thing it’s not till next year’s Festival of Lady Flora.”
Having lived in El Dragado himself, as well as having attended the Bash multiple times before, Nightfall wasn’t quite so sure the farmer’s plans would come to fruition. In fact, he suspected they probably wouldn’t. But things might be different this time, he thought; after all Slice was a national hero same as him, so the El Dragado elite would probably be inclined to actually pay full price and more, if only out of respect. Yes, that would probably be it.
Nightfall finally shook his more cynical thoughts aside and settled in favor of a more immediate worry; informing the others. “Hey, Slice?” He turned towards the other Dragoon. “Do you think you could gather up the others you can find, and send them my way to the library? I can get ahold of two of our friends if you will.”
“Sure thang,” Apple Slice nodded with a confident smile. “I can round ‘em up sooner than ya can say ‘Slash is a flying crash hazard.’ “
Nightfall couldn’t help but snicker a bit, “Not gonna argue with you there. Let’s split up and find the others, shall we? We can meet back at the library as soon as possible.”
“Got it,” Slice nodded, turning around and heading off back towards town. And with that, the two of them went their separate ways.
Before long, the six of them were assembled in the library’s main floor, Slash and Extraordinaire respectively taking advantage of the nearest couches, while Timidwings stood awkwardly in a corner, Goody bounced in place with an eager grin, Nightfall sat beside Wishful in his overstuffed armchair, and Slice rolled his eyes while waiting for Nightfall to finish telling them the news. “…and so, long story short, we’re all invited to the Big Burning Bash.”
The first one to react, at least from what Nightfall could tell in his currently pink-filled field of vision, was Goody. “Omigosh omigosh omigoooosh!” Goody was practically hovering in front of him, personal space seemingly forgotten as Goody bounced off the armrest of the chair—how, Nightfall would never know—and landed in the middle of the library floor. “The Big Burning Bash? The party to end all parties? The only party I’ve yet to top?”
Nightfall nodded mutely, trying not to shrink back into his seat at the sudden display of exuberance. “Yes. The Burning Bash.” he confirmed.
At that moment, the others in the room seemed to finally process what they’d heard, and one by one, ideas started running through their heads of what they could do at the party to end all parties. Slash was the second one to speak, his voice tinged with awe as he stared up at the ceiling of the library, imagining himself soaring through the clouds with a certain aerial stunt team. “The Shatterbursts are probably gonna be there, right? Of course they are; it’s the biggest bash in El Dragado. Which means…” His eyes went wide. “I’ll finally get a chance to show off some of my moves to them and get their attention! I could just make my entrance in the middle of their show, and—”
“Slash, I don’t think that’s gonna endear ya ta ‘em any,” Slice cut in with an eye roll. “I mean, how would ya feel if some random Fairy Dragoon with an ego almost as big as his mouth went and crashed yer show at the biggest party of the year?”
Slash opened his mouth to protest, then promptly shut it again with a sulky look. “Well, you didn’t have to put it like that…”
Slice saw the window to assuage the other Dragoon’s wounded pride quickly closing, and took the opportunity to soften the blow. He placed a claw on his shoulder with a comforting smile. “Hey, Ah’m just ribbin’ ya, Slash. Ya know that; don’t take it too seriously.” His smile fell for a moment as he went back into a more stern expression. “But in all fairness, Ah don’t think they’d take kindly ta ya bargin’ into their show, ya know? Ya could still get ta meet ‘em though, at least once the show is over; Ah’m sure they’d have a minute or five ta spare fer a fan, especially a V.I.G. one.”
Slash’s grin was in place once more as he imagined how that meeting would go. “Yeah, you’re right… I mean, getting to actually talk with Captain Hawker, Volatora, Stormwing…” He looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be nervous or just thrilled at the idea, and settled for an expression Goody would probably call ‘nervous-cited.’
In the meantime, Timidwings, for once, had emerged from his corner and was pacing back and forth across his side of the room, cracking a small smile of his own. “I… I’m going to get to see the Royal Gardens. With the V.I.G. ticket, I might be able to make it into the royal Menagerie that I’ve heard is in the gardens. So many animals just waiting for me to see and talk to and make friends with and…”
Extraordinaire, who had been up until now absorbed in his own imagination, shook himself back to reality, sporting a goofy grin that looked extremely out of place on his snout. “The Princes’ niece should be there, right?” He sighed dramatically. “Lady Noble Scale, the most beautiful, charming, mysterious Dragoness of El Dragado, whose fabled beauty is practically legend?”
Nightfall just barely stopped himself from biting his tongue. “Umm, Extraordinaire? Lady Noble Scale isn’t exactly the most—”
“—sociable of Dragonesses?” Extraordinaire cut him off. “So I’ve heard. But if there’s anygon who can get her to open up and come to eventually swoon at their charms, it’s me.” The white Dragoon sprawled dramatically across the couch, one claw raised in the air, the other stroking his chin in thought. “And so, I’ll be the one to unravel the mystery that is Her Grace, Lady Noble Scale, and her murky, if likely absolutely fascinating, origins.”
Nightfall at this point realized he would be unable to convince the other Dragoon otherwise, and just slumped back in his armchair, rubbing his temples. “Fine. If you say so. I’ve known her most of my life, and I’ve never seen anygon get very far past her icy attitude. You’re welcome to try, though. Just remember the old saying about beauty—”
“Yes, yes, that it’s usually scale-deep, I know.” Extraordinaire waved a claw impatiently and huffed. “I know she’s different. I just have to crack her shell like nogon ever has.”
“You’d have better luck cracking a glacier,” Wishful muttered just loud enough for Nightfall to hear, looking at Extraordinaire with a bit of a sulky pout that went completely unnoticed by him as he continued to concoct his plans.
As the white Dragoon went over the ideas in his head, he realized one very important little detail he had overlooked until now. He immediately shot up into a sitting position, his eyes going wide. “By Gwynnia, we don’t have anything to wear!” He practically shouted, drawing the attention of everygon in the room. Extraordinaire jumped off the couch and sprinted towards the door with an almost manic glee, looking back over his shoulder at the rest of his friends. “Well, come on you guys! To the Boutique!”
With that, he bounded out the door, the five other Dragoons trying their best to keep up with the white blur streaking ahead, leaving only dust behind.
“For the last time, Nightfall, an occasion such as the Big Burning Bash can’t be attended in ceremonial armor!” Extraordinaire snapped for what felt like the thousandth time in ten minutes. “This is so much bigger than a mere semi-formal event! One absolutely must wear a suit or dress to such an occasion!”
“Extra, I’ve been to the Bash multiple times,” Nightfall groaned, rapidly growing sick of explaining the same thing over and over to his very strong-willed friend. “Ceremonial armor isn’t out of place there at all. Yes, some dragons wear suits and dresses to it, but not all of them do!”
But Extraordinaire wasn’t going to give up yet. “Well, I can’t very well make armor for Wishy, now, can I?” The white Dragoon shot back. “She’d look much better in a dress!” He paused for a moment, remembering that she was actually on Nightfall’s back, and shot her a charming smile, “And we both know you’d look positively adorable, anyways.” Nightfall rolled his eyes as Wishful burst into giggles at the compliment and flushed as red as Ambrosia’s scales. “She’s already agreed to fully-formal attire, so why can’t the rest of you just agree to a nice suit and tie? I have great ideas planned for all seven of us!”
“I wouldn’t be caught dead in a suit!” Prism Slash growled, looking like he’d start ripping at the first bolt of fabric that came within ten feet of him. “They’re so… urgh, uppity and fancy! And they cramp my style!”
Apple Slice was not as stubborn about it as Prism, but still frowned at the idea. “Ah just wouldn’t feel right in a suit,” He said solemnly. “The only time Ah ever wore one was ta Mammy and Pappy’s funeral. Suits make meh think of stuff of that sort. Sorry, Extra.”
The other five Dragoons turned towards Timidwings, who tried his best not to shrink under their gazes. “Um, I really don’t mind wearing a suit,” Timidwings said softly while everygon else took a moment to breathe, having been trying to keep up with Extraordinaire’s pace towards the boutique this whole time. “It’s just that everygon else wants to wear armor, and I don’t want to be a ‘square wheel’, if you know what I mean. Well, as long as nogon minds, that is.”
“I don’t care what you make, just so long as it’s fun!” Goody exclaimed, eliciting a glare from some of the others. “If you can make a suit fun, then I say do it! Though I was kind of hoping for a helmet with a brush top so I could do all sorts of fun things with it.”
Extraordinaire was ready to turn to the dramatics to get his point across. He practically threw himself onto his knees in the middle of the boutique, looking every inch the pitiful supplicant. “Look Nightfall,” Extraordinaire said, clasping his foreclaws together pleadingly. “I almost never get to sell suits and dresses! It’s always my metalwork that dragons are interested in! Suits and dresses are my true forte! Please just let me do it for this one occasion!”
Nightfall thought for a bit, mulling it over in his head; but when he didn’t respond, the fashion Dragoon decided to make one more attempt. He had one more move to play. Extraordinaire moved back into a usual standing position, a smug grin slowly spreading across his face.
“Nightfall… when you went to the Bash in the past, which dragons wore suits and dresses instead of ceremonial armor?”
Nightfall blinked, caught off guard, and immediately began listing the kinds of dragons who dressed fully formal from memory. “Well, celebrities, nobility, officials of the state, the high-ranking members of the Guard, special guests, anygon recognized by the Crown for special deeds and heroism—”
Nightfall cut off when he noticed Extraordinaire’s victorious grin. “Freeze me in Cocytus, that’s us to a ‘T’ isn’t it?” He admitted glumly.
“Yes, that would in fact be us,” the white Dragoon replied simply. He dropped his smugness immediately and began to act all business, fully resisting the temptation to rub his victory in Nightfall’s face. “Now, I’ll need everygon’s measurements for this, and while I measure each of you, we can discuss my ideas for how to make each outfit reflect you perfectly.” Turning to address Apple Slice directly, he added, “And don’t worry, Apple Slice. I’ll do my best to make you a suit that doesn’t dredge up those bad memories.” He turned back to the purple Dragoon. “Okay, Nightfall, how about you go first?” Extraordinaire suggested.
Nightfall sighed and gave a reluctant nod before following his friend to the stage that was set up specifically for measuring and fitting, mirrors placed in enough locations so that getting a full view of the patron’s body would be quite simple from almost any angle.
“Stand upright, please,” Extraordinaire requested, motioning with his claws for Nightfall to take such a stance.
The librarian complied, standing with only his actual legs supporting him, feeling the tug of gravity on his top-heavy adult frame.
Working with a tape measure, the fashion Dragoon quickly got to work, measuring arm length, shoulder width, neck size, waist size, leg length, foot size, wing position, and chest size, while Nightfall’s legs trembled slightly under the added weight. It took a little while, to Nightfall’s dismay, since Extraordinaire had a habit of checking every measurement three times over.
“Hmm, yes…” the white dragon mused as he whipped out a notepad and pencil. “I think I see potential here. Just let me sketch your form, and then you can return to the easier posture.” After sketching quickly, Extraordinaire said, noting his patron’s discomfort, “Okay, you can drop back to all fours.”
Nightfall heaved a sigh of relief as he dropped his arms back to the ground, feeling the pull of gravity cease.
“Okay, I think it may be better for me to get everygon’s measurements before discussing designs,” Extraordinaire announced to the other five. “So, if Slash could come to the stage now, I’d very much appreciate it. I’m certain I can make you something that doesn’t ‘cramp your style’.”
Slash gulped, looked back at the others with a whisper of, “If I’m not back in five minutes, please drag me out if you have to.” With that, he marched towards the stage with the air of a Dragoon going to the scaffold.
Two hours later, Extraordinaire was finishing up measuring Wishful for her dress. The filly looked very happy to be the main focus of Extraordinaire’s attention, and was trying to savor every second of it while it lasted. The others were just glad their turns were already up.
But soon enough, the last set of measurements had been taken, and Extraordinaire made one final sketch before approaching the group, a gleam in his eye and his notebook in claw.
“Can we go now?” Slash grumbled, still looking at the bolts of cloth scattered about like they might eat him if left unattended. “I’m bored.”
“Not quite yet, my dear friend,” Extraordinaire replied, brandishing his notebook. “But soon. We just have to discuss designs, and we’ll be done.”
“Oh joy,” Slash groaned. “Let’s get this over with. We’ll talk first so I can get out of here faster.”
Extraordinaire did his very best not to look insulted that he wanted to leave so soon. “Okay,” the white Dragoon replied, picking up on Slash’s sour mood and deciding that he needed to do his best to navigate around it carefully. “So, what is it about suits that ‘cramp your style’? I have some ideas on designs, but I need to know what your problem is, first.”
“They’re itchy, they cause drag, and a tie just ends up flapping over my shoulder when I fly,” Slash muttered, looking back at his wings, then back at Extraordinaire. “Can you possibly fix all of that?”
“Well, a tighter, more form-fitting coat would cause a lot less drag, for one,” Extraordinaire said thoughtfully, jotting down the detail on his notepad, muttering to himself at a volume only he could hear. “As for it being itchy? There are plenty of materials that aren’t itchy, and I prefer them, anyway. And as for the tie…” The white Dragoon thought for a moment before exclaiming, “Inspiration! A bow tie would fix everything!”
Slash didn’t look too enthused at the idea, but shrugged. It was better than the other kind, at least. “Now, as for the design,” Extraordinaire mused, tapping his pencil against his chin, “Something to accentuate your unique color scheme. Maybe throw in a slight amount of ancient Fairy Dragon influence?” He started scribbling like mad on his notepad, not even aware of Slash’s expression that screamed that he’d had enough. “A sleek, form-fitting, seven-colored suit coat, preferably double vented for less drag, over a simple, flowing white shirt with a cloud-like hem at the end of the sleeves, accentuated with gold rings at the base of the wings!” He continued sketching away, taking no notice of Slash attempting to look over his shoulder at the notebook. “Let’s see, as for the pants… standard short black dress trousers should work, but with a stripe down either leg in the same colors as the coat.” He paused for a moment, then slapped his forehead. “Of course, I’ll need to make proper boots to go with it…”
Prism Slash was visibly quite unhappy with the idea of any footwear, but just barely restrained himself from letting Extraordinaire know it. After all, he wasn’t one to bite the hand that fed h— um, made his suit.
Now, at the mention of black, Apple Slice looked up, eyeing Extraordinaire warily. “Ya aren’t gonna make anythin’ black fer meh, right? Because Ah really wanna avoid the funeral look, thank ya very much.”
Extraordinaire looked away from his notebook as he finished sketching Slash’s design, giving Apple Slice a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. Black is incredibly out of season, anyway, especially for the Bash. Now, for you I’m thinking…” He looked back down at his notebook, jotting down a few more details. “It’d have to be green and brown for you; earth tones, but warm and with a certain simple elegance. Hmm… brown suit coat, but green tie and vest; brown trousers, too, I think.” The white Dragoon looked down at his measurements again, before continuing to write. “White shirt for you as well, but perhaps a sturdier fabric than Slash’s. Boots brown to match the rest…”
Slice didn’t seem to mind the boots, at least; though he thought the vest was just a mite much. He hadn’t even worn a vest to his parents’ funeral. But, of course, he wasn’t going to point this out to Extraordinaire when he was in full inspiration mode.
Once done sketching his ideas for Slice’s suit, he turned to Nightfall. “Now, of course, this is going have to be something in either indigo or navy to bring out—”
“Let’s just stick to something simple and practical, please,” Nightfall cut him off, crossing his arms.
Extraordinaire bristled a bit, taking a breath before speaking. “Nightfall, my dear friend, this is one of the most important formal events in the Kingdom. Before you might have attended as Lord Lumin’s student, but now you are a national hero. This is a bit different. What you wear reflects on you, for better or worse, as unlike before, there’s going to be a lot of attention on you, and the rest of us by extension.” He looked back at the notebook, not noticing Nightfall’s stubborn look. “Anyways, something in navy or indigo should do for the whole suit, preferably in silk. I can do the vest in damask with silver stars embroidered for a good contrast to the rest of the—”
“That doesn’t sound very simple or practical,” Nightfall interrupted again, just wanting to get something plain and serviceable enough to fit the occasion. After all, he’d likely never have to wear it again, right?
Extraordinaire’s pencil snapped in his grip, the white Dragoon looking up with an exasperated scowl. “Nightfall, this isn’t about practicality. This isn’t some kind of village fete where everygon’s dressed in the nearest thing they can find in their closets, or simply foregoing clothing as usual. This is The Bash, and you’re going to be be there, both as our leader and as a national hero in your own right, as well as Lord Lumin’s student. What you wear reflects exactly how seriously you take your newfound duties and status, and I’m quite sure you wouldn’t want to send the wrong message, right?”
Nightfall was growing increasingly more irritated by the moment, his wings flaring out slightly. “Are you saying I’d be embarrassing Lord Lumin if I went in something more practical? Because it never seemed to matter before; after all, before I always wore ceremonial armor and nogon ever seemed to mind, much less the Prince.”
Extraordinaire gave him a withering glare, as if trying to ram home exactly how short-sighted he was being. “You weren’t a national hero before, and I don’t imagine half the Bash was keeping an eye on you. This isn’t like it was before; all of us, including you especially, are now public figures. And what you do in public, how you act, what you wear, can have consequences for your public reputation, good or bad.” The white Dragoon softened the glare somewhat, adopting a more persuasive expression. “Look, I’m just trying to make sure this Bash goes as well as possible for all of us, and won’t end up damaging your reputation, especially since you’re the Prince’s student. You wouldn’t want to reflect badly on him, now would you?”
Nightfall’s eyes widened, and he sputtered as he tried to collect a response. “B-b-but I—the Prince wouldn’t be—I didn’t mean…” Nightfall sighed, hanging his head in a mixture of shame and defeat, “You’ve got a very good point, Extra. I can’t understand why I didn’t realize this myself. Out of all the books I’ve read, one of them had to have mentioned something like this! I must’ve not payed attention…” His earfins drooped even more, looking like they might almost fall off the sides of his head. “I just… I really don’t want to be an embarrassment to Lord Lumin, especially after everything he’s taught me. I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye for weeks; months, maybe! He might even remove me as his student if I mess up too badly…”
Extraordinaire realized he might’ve gone a bit too far, and decided to backpedal a bit before Nightfall could get dragged down by his own fears. He placed a claw on the other Dragoon’s shoulder gently, looking him in the eye. “Relax, Nightfall. I don’t think that will happen. I’m sorry I might’ve scared you; I was just trying to get my point across, you know? In all fairness, I think Lord Lumin is too proud of you to ever think of ending your apprenticeship. Certainly nothing like a minor fashion mixup could cause him to do something so drastic.” He gave him a little smile. “After all, if Lord Lumin could forgive his brother after, well, that, he wouldn’t even bat an eye at something that small.” As Nightfall began to visibly relax, Extraordinaire had one more point to get across to Nightfall before he got the idea not to worry at all. “But, you have to remember; it’s not what Lord Lumin would think that would matter most in the long run; it’s what the others at the Bash would think. How your manner of dress and behavior reflects your mentor’s teachings, and we wouldn’t want anygon thinking he’s a bad teacher, now would you? Because we both know some of the noble types at the Bash might be looking for an excuse to think badly of the Prince. You know how politics is amongst the various factions; always looking for a leg up, even if they have to drag the one above them down.”
Nightfall nodded fervently, remembering the many times petty squabbles had erupted in the Senate the few times he’d sat with Lord Lumin presiding over a Parliament session. Lord Lumin most often looked like he wished he had a pair of earplugs to drown out the monotonous droning of Lord so-and-so and Lady such-and-such trying to suggest yet another budget cut to something they didn’t like. Usually military spending, as they thought the idea of any actual use for the Royal Army was five centuries too old, thanks to the fearsome reputation of Draconia’s defenses and offence in earlier times. The way most of the Peers reacted to the suggestion, you’d think they’d been refused permission to build a charity hospital for orphaned cats, or something of the like.
Nightfall was drawn out of his memories by the sound of Extraordinaire’s voice, now directed towards Timidwings. “And for you, Timmy, I have just the thing in mind! A tea-green suit coat with a turquoise tie—oh, this is going to look so exquisite—turquoise satin vest, and charcoal gray trousers with a green stripe down the legs. The shirt’s got to be something light and breezy to go with the elegance of the rest of the outfit. As for the boots, I think a nice, suitable bla—”
“Umm, Extra? Don’t you think all that could be a bit too, um, eye-catching? I mean, all those bright shades together sound a little… much?” Timidwings turned away a bit, not looking Extraordinaire in the eye.
The white Dragoon’s eye twitched as he repressed the urge to tell Timidwings that being eye-catching was kind of the blasted point, but he refrained from raising his voice. After all, he had gone a little too far when he’d gotten angry at Nightfall, and he definitely didn’t want to scare off poor Timmy. Instead, he took a breath, counted to ten forwards and backwards, and couched his expression into the most neutral look he could. “Timmy, my dear friend, I’m designing it with those colors in mind, not that you’d stand out too much, but that you’d fit in with the other brightly-dressed guests there. I don’t want you to feel singled out, after all, since I know you’d prefer not to draw unnecessary attention to yourself.”
The yellow Dragoon’s nervous smile slowly turned genuine, and he nodded, “I guess that’s fine, if it won’t make me stand out too much. It will be fairly comfortable for when I go out to visit the animals, right?” He asked with an almost pleading, puppy-dog-ish look in his eyes.
“Of course!” Extraordinaire said with a nod, not able to refuse if he wanted to. After all, he wouldn’t be able to stand it for weeks if the poor Dragoon got upset over something easily avoided. “I’ll make the whole outfit fairly light and breezy for you.” Pretty soon, he finished jotting down his notes and sketches for Timidwings’ suit, before turning to his penultimate customer. “Goody, for yours I was thinking—”
“Pink! It has to be pink. Oooh, and blue! And maybe some yellow in there too!” He said with a very excited grin, not noticing the white Dragoon’s instinctive cringe at the thought of all those colors mixed for the entire outfit. Goody pointed towards a bolt of cloth lying askew on top of Extraordinaire’s sewing table. “See, that could work fine!”
Extraordinaire looked at the bolt of cloth, looked back at Goody, and started rubbing his temples, doing his best to keep his voice level. “Goody, dear, first of all, that is not pink. That is magenta. Second of all, that fabric is cotton; hardly suitable for a formal suit. If I was going to use a shade of pink, it would probably be rose or orchid pink; nothing quite so bright. Yellow is definitely out. Now, I might be able to use blue for the tie, at least, with possibly a blue stripe going down the dress trouser—”
“Ooh, ooh! What about making the vest blue, too? Maybe royal blue? Or pastel? Or, oh, I got it, yellow stripes on the blue tie? That would look so nice and cheerful, since yellow’s like the sun, and the sun is cheerful, and cheerful colors are always best for livening up parties—”
Extraordinaire looked like he wanted to find the nearest trashcan at the very idea of a blue vest with a pink suit, or especially yellow stripes with the blue tie. He swallowed down the urge to cringe once more, and decided to try telling Goody exactly why that wouldn’t work. “Goody, dear: one, a blue vest and pink suit would clash horribly. It’s like trying to decorate an unborn Hatchling or Hatchlette’s room, and being so indecisive you can’t pick either one. As for the yellow stripes with the blue tie…” He couldn’t repress the shudder this time, “In all honesty, the very thought scares me just a little bit. If there was a fashion police, they’d have me arrested on the spot for felony bad design.”
Goody pouted a bit, but was soon back to his usual attitude in a few seconds. “Well, what about blue embroidery on the vest? Oh, and ruffles on the ends of the shirt sleeves? And maybe you could make one of those cravat-thingies instead of a regular tie? Those are so fun to look at!”
Extraordinaire was reaching closer and closer to his breaking point with every new suggestion, until he could no longer take it anymore. The cravat suggestion was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. He slowly backed a safe distance away from Goody, took a breath, then just… snapped. “Are you completely daft?!” He shouted, drawing looks of alarm from the other four Dragoons and one filly in the room. “Where in Draconia would you get such absolutely ridiculous ideas? First of all, blue embroidery on a rose pink vest would be tackier than neon orange, ruffles on shirt sleeves are only acceptable if you’re playing a pirate in an opera, and finally, cravats have been out of style for nearly two centuries! If you’re not going to take this seriously and let me do my blasted job, which, need I remind you, I am doing out of the goodness of my heart for you, then why are you even here?!” He stopped, his breath coming out in pants as he fixed Goody with an angry scowl, a small amount of razor-sharp diamond particles flying from his mouth.
Goody’s usually poofy headfins seemed to deflate, somehow, and he slowly backed up towards the others. “I was just trying to give suggestions, Extra…”
Extraordinaire was prepared to give Goody the full force of his impending tirade; but he noticed the others in the room looking at him with both fear and concern in their eyes. Goody looked genuinely sad for once. Slash and Slice looked like they thought they might need to intervene if things got any worse. Nightfall was looking at Extraordinaire like he was about to recommend a good therapist. Timidwings had his back to the wall, visibly trembling and shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe the dragon before him could be the same friend he had grown to know. And, of course, Wishful was gazing at him as if she thought he might fall apart if he was prodded a moment further.
The white Dragoon looked down at the floor, turned his head to the side, and muttered, “I… I think I need some space for a few minutes. Would you mind if I head outside for a few…?”
“Not at all.” Nightfall said, nodding, turning to head towards the door. “We’ll give you some space until you cool down. Wishful?”
“B-but he hasn’t done anything for my dress yet!” She protested, looking up at the white Dragoon. “Don’t worry; I won’t have any complaints or suggestions you don’t like, I promise. I’d love it no matter how you made it!”
Extraordinaire just sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Wishful. I’ll have to continue with this later. Could you go with Nightfall and give me some space for a while? You’ve done nothing wrong, I just… I need to be alone for a while, okay? Come back in, say, a couple hours, alright?”
Wishful nodded, reluctantly turning to follow her father-figure with the other Dragoons out the door. “All… alright. We’ll be back in a couple hours.”
With that, the door shut behind her, leaving Extraordinaire alone in the room. After a moment of silence, allowing him to collect his thoughts, he called upstairs to his brother. “Silver Bolt? Could you come down here, please?”
“Sure!” Was the shouted reply, and his younger brother headed down the stairs and into the main room. “What do you need, Extra?” The Dragonling asked. His scales were white like his brother’s, though his curly headfins were pink and purple, unlike his brother’s. His vental scales were silver, as his name suggested, as opposed to Extraordinaire’s paler silver. And, of course, his tail was unmarked by a skill emblem, as of yet.
“Could you watch the Boutique for me for a while? Oh, and take care of Jasper, would you? I’m going to be out for a bit; a couple hours at most. Can you do that for me?” Silver nodded enthusiastically.
“Sure! I can watch the place for a couple hours. I’ll make sure to take care of Jasper for you, don’t worry.” The aforementioned persian cat looked up at Extraordinaire with a piteous meow, eyeing Silver with what Extraordinaire could have sworn was distrust, and hissed. The young Dragonling, however, seemed to not notice exactly what the cat thought of him, and hugged the cat tightly, ignoring the cat’s whines of protest. “We’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
Extraordinaire raised an eyebrow, and was halfway tempted to rescue his cat from the clutches of his brother, but thought better of it. After all, what’s the worst that could happen? “Alright. Mind the Boutique while I’m gone, okay?” With another nod from his brother and another meow of protest from his cat, he turned around, and headed out the door.
Finally able to vent his frustrations without worrying about anygon hearing him, Extraordinaire let out a series of yells that would normally have drawn the attention of half the neighborhood, wandering about the rocky gemfield outside of Dragontown proper. “Blue, pink, and yellow?! That goes beyond the normal color standards of our society into clown suit territory! Blue and pink would’ve been fine on their own, in small amounts, but all three?! Is Goody colorblind? That’s not balance, that’s downright chaotic!” He kicked a nearby rock, sending it flying into the air. Beneath it was a rainbow opal the size of a chicken’s egg. After picking the gem up and stowing it in his bag, he continued his venting.
“And Nightfall! He actually was trying to go for ‘simple and practical’! That is just not done for something as important as the Big Burning Bash! The only thing that could’ve been worse would’ve been asking for it to be all one color!” Extraordinaire shuddered at the thought. “That leans too far in the opposite direction: order to the extreme! Gwynnia only knows what kind of negative impact something like that would’ve had on him and Lord Lumin!” He grabbed another nearby rock and threw it as far as he could, revealing another gem, this one being a sardonyx. He stowed that gem in his bag as well before stomping further into the field, releasing more pent-up anger.
“As for the others? Slice was pretty much fine, but Slash was so hard to work with! Sure, I love a challenge, but the way he acted was downright insulting! He wanted to go first just to ‘get it over with’! Doesn’t he realize that dressing to impress is very important? Especially for somegon like him, who wants to talk to a stunt team as prestigious as the Shatterbursts?!” Taking a deep, agitated breath, Extraordinaire let loose frustration he’d never vent in the company of anygon. “As for Timidwings? I could never bring myself to say it to his face, but being noticed is kind of the whole blasted point, and him wanting to blend in defeats the whole purpose of him attending! We’re national heroes, for Gwynnia’s sake! If he’s not seen with us before we separate, he’ll have dragons looking for him the whole night, I’m sure! They’ll be wondering where the sixth one of us is, and he won’t have a moment’s peace as they look for him!”
His yells finally ended with a loud roar of rage: “Why don’t any of them get it?” His horns glowed a brilliant blue, his fists becoming encased in the same aura before he struck the ground with two magically-enhanced punches, creating a dual shockwave that sent rocks flying, exposing hundreds of gems to the open air.
Panting from the combination of so much force in both his punches and his tirade, Extraordinaire barely heard footsteps behind him, but he did hear them, and immediately whirled around to find himself facing a small group of bipedal canines: Diamond Dogs.
Known for both their love of gems and only being smart if they weren’t “strays”—a term used to denote any Diamond Dog not raised in their home nation—Diamond Dogs were strong, but almost never a match for a fully-grown dragon. Not even a fully-grown Mystic Dragon who had exhausted all of their magic reserves would have much trouble dispatching a large pack of strays, and Mystic Dragons had the lowest physical strength out of the three major tribes. However, young dragons were often reminded that stray Diamond Dogs were known to try to abduct dragons for various reasons, and that even a young Nature Dragon couldn’t fight off very many strays alone.
Taking notice that the group of three was comprised entirely of females—including their rather large leader—the white Dragoon decided to employ his genteel to impress them so as to not have to resort to violence. He preferred to avoid having to hurt a lady, even if she was a Diamond Dog stray.
“I beg your pardon, ladies. I didn’t mean to intrude on your territory,” he began, winking at the Dog to the leader’s left, who immediately blushed and smiled. “I promise to not cause any trouble for you, and to leave immediately, if that would appease you.” He shot the Dog on the leader’s right a heart-winning smile, causing her to swoon a little, visibly fighting the urge to wag her tail.
Before he could try to gain the favor of the leader, she spoke, striking the two Dogs next to her as well. “Fidella, Checkers, no. Dessa take care of white dragon.” Her eyes turned pitch black for a split-second before she began approaching Extraordinaire, the others following her.
Extraordinaire’s eyes went wide, a tremor running through him before stopping suddenly. There was something… off about this situation. An aura of unease was emanating from the Diamond Dog leader; it reminded him a little of the Wild Woods, actually. There was just something vaguely menacing about this; well, the leader, specifically. She looked normal to Extraordinaire; but there was a very predatory vibe coming off of her—and not in the usual canine way, either. He started backpedaling, keeping the three in front of him in his line of sight. “Now, ladies, no need to be rash. I-I, um, was just going to be on my way… back to Dragontown.” Far away from you, he thought.
The Diamond Dog leader, however, was having none of it, her eyes narrowed. “White dragon isn’t going anywhere. White dragon is going to go with us to the tunnels below.” The three of them fanned out into a semicircle, checking to make sure the white Dragoon wasn’t going to make a break for it.
Extraordinaire realized he was in a very tight spot, and from the way things were looking, charm wasn’t going to help him out of this one. “Now, my dear Diamond Dogs, um… what do you need me to go down to the tunnels for? I’m sure I can be much more helpful to you above ground. After all, we dragons need our… umm, sun! Right, we need sunlight to live. We’re like, um, plants, yes. We need lots of sunlight, or we’ll just perish in a flash! We are reptiles, after all…” He stopped, and chuckled nervously at the skeptical look the Diamond Dog leader was shooting him. “…blast, that didn’t work, did it?”
“No, it didn’t. Dragons aren’t reptiles. Warm blooded like mammals. White dragon will come with us, now. No more talking.”
“Now, ladies, I really don’t want to come to blows with you, but if you aren’t going to let me be on my way, I will be forced to defend myself. I’m terribly sorry for my discourtesy, but I’d rather stay above ground, thank you!” With that, Extraordinaire made a break for it, flapping his wings to help him get away. But just as he managed to get a few feet into the air, he felt a tugging on his tail. He looked down to see the Diamond Dog leader clinging to his tail like the end of a rope, dragging him down back onto the ground with her. “Oh, confound it all! Would you kindly get off of me?!” He lashed out with a foot, earning a yelp of pain. However, his small moment of advantage was quickly ended by the two other Diamond Dogs launching themselves at him, and he soon found himself crashing to the ground, fighting fang and talon to try to get these crazy dogs away.
“Fine! You’ve forced my claw here!” He snapped. “I tried to warn you!” Taking a deep breath as he offered a silent prayer to Lady Bellona, Extraordinaire charged up his breath weapon and breathed a flurry of small razor-sharp diamond particles at the Dog on his left, causing her to yelp as the harmful gems tore at her flesh. Next, he focused his magic through his horns and generated blue energy blades extending from each of his foreclaws’ talons, swiping at the Dog to his right with a cry of “Have at you!” The second Diamond Dog was thrown back several feet, a long, shallow gash in her fur. No sign of blood, though. Maybe she’d be scared off, though? After all, these three had to have realized fully-grown dragon plus Diamond Dogs was not going to be an equation with the odds in their favor.
Sadly, it seemed he had given them more credit for brainpower than they actually had, as the two of them immediately got up and decided to abandon all gentle handling to just punch him in the belly. He doubled over, trying to back up again and finding himself flush against a rock wall. “Good Gwynnia, that hurts! Sheesh, Diamond Dogs are not supposed to be this strong…”
The three of them were at least intelligent enough to tell that their target was cornered. Not enough to keep their mouths shut, however. The leader gave him a smug grin. “Dessa had help. Fidella and Checkers, too, but not as much as Dessa. Black cloud made us stronger…” She bared her incisors. “We beat white dragon to pulp if he not give up.”
Extraordinaire was sure he’d heard something like this in the bedtime stories from his Hatchling days. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. Either way, he quickly realized his choices seemed to be narrowed down to ‘get beaten up and be dragged with them’ or ‘come quietly with all limbs in working order.’ And neither one of those options was looking very attractive at the time. There didn’t seem to be a way out of this… but maybe he could leave some kind of trail for the others to find him later? It was better than ending up more bruised than he already was, anyways. He put his arms behind him, sneaking a spool of thread from his pack. “Alright, ladies. Fine. I surrender. Now, if I go with you, may I have your word you won’t try to harm me? Well, further?”
The three Diamond Dogs looked at each other, clearly not expecting him to actually surrender, but shrugged. “Yes, dragon,” the leader said. “We won’t hurt white dragon if dragon don’t resist. Now, come with us!” She barked, pointing towards him with an outstretched claw.
Extraordinaire raised one claw in a gesture of surrender, the other behind his back, letting the spool unwind itself as he started to follow them. “Very well, then. I shall go with you to the… tunnels.” He shuddered slightly at the thought; he didn’t like underground places, despite his Greatest Skill being his gem-finding abilities. They were dark, drafty, and worst of all, dirty.
And so, the Diamond Dogs led him away, never noticing the trail of red thread left behind him. He followed them towards a small cave, seemingly hewn out of a large rock. The dragon shivered slightly as he passed out of sunlight into the dark recesses of the cave, looking back over his shoulder to make sure his trail was still being laid; thankfully, it was. But the light at the cave entrance was getting dimmer as he went, until he turned a corner into a tunnel and it disappeared entirely. Extraordinaire stopped, hoping his captors wouldn’t notice if he stayed behind in the dark. However, he was not so lucky, as the leader heard the lack of footsteps behind her, and turned around. “Why is dragon not following?”
Extraordinaire froze, about to try to make an excuse, when a terrible, clever idea came to him. Back in his Dragonling years, his parents had told him stories of the Diamond Dogs; and what to do if one was captured by them. They hated complaining. Loathed it with a passion. “Well, um… It’s too dark in here. I can’t see to follow you in this awful gloom. Oh, and it’s drafty too; have you dogs ever heard of insulation? I mean, seriously! Oh, and by the way, I don’t suppose you’ve swept the floor of this cave in weeks, months even? There’s so much dirt here, you’d think it’s never seen a cleaning day in its whole—”
One of the Diamond Dogs clapped her paws over her ears, visibly wincing with every word. “Agh, make him stop! Fidella can’t take whining!”
“Checkers can’t either!” The other one said, bobbing her head as best she could with her ears covered. “Please can we just let white dragon go—”
“No!” Dessa snapped, surprisingly unaffected by the complaints, and gave her subordinates a clout on their heads for good measure. She shook her head, ignoring the other two’s yelps of pain, and turned around to glare at Extraordinaire. “Lanterns further in. White dragon will have to wait for light. Now shut up, and keep moving.”
Extraordinaire was smart enough to know not to push his luck right now, and quickly followed her further down the tunnel, feeling his way along the rough wall. The tunnel twisted and sloped slowly downwards, enough for him to occasionally need to catch his balance if he tripped on a rough place to avoid going tumbling down. After all, he didn’t want to end up more bruised than he already was. The fact that the tunnel seemed to be getting wetter didn’t help, making the floor slick beneath his feet. Maybe there was some kind of underground channel or cistern nearby? It would explain the sound of dripping water he kept hearing as he went further in.
Eventually, the gloom of the tunnel gave way to the soft glow of lanterns, and he found himself in a massive underground chamber, lit by the flickering orange light of lanterns in crevices in the rock walls. Tunnels radiated out in all directions like spokes of a wheel, though the one they were obviously supposed to head towards was conveniently right across from him. Or so the sounds of whines, growls and barks mixed with indecipherable yelling in that direction indicated.
Dessa looked over her shoulder to make sure Extraordinaire was still following, then said, “White dragon will follow us to other pack members. No take other paths.” Turning to look at both of her subordinates in turn, she commanded, “Fidella, Checkers, watch dragon. Make sure he follow. Dessa lead to pack.”
Extraordinaire nodded solemnly and continued to follow, dropping the end of the red spool into the shadows behind him and quickly fishing a blue one out of his pack. Sneaking into one of the side paths would’ve been a risky move since it could easily get him lost, but he had been considering it. But with the two smaller Diamond Dogs taking turns watching him, there was no way he could even attempt it.
They crossed the chamber into the opposite tunnel in silence, the sounds of more Diamond Dogs growing louder with every step they took. Upon reaching the other side, he found himself in the midst of a whole circle of them, and quickly realized they’d all gone completely quiet.
“So…” the white Dragoon chuckled nervously, “Now that we’re here, may I know what you need from me down here that I couldn’t do for you above ground?”
“Find gems!” A female from the group cried out.
“Yes, yes! Lots of gems!” A male added, nodding his head emphatically, banging his pickaxe against the ground.
“How are you so sure that I can do a better job at it than you?” Extraordinaire asked, hoping to get them to doubt their own odd plan. “After all, you’re skilled miners! You have pickaxes and heightened senses! What could I possibly—”
“White dragon have diamonds on tail,” Dessa cut in. “White dragon is better at finding gems than anydog in pack. Many in pack saw white dragon find big number of gems in time it take Diamond Dog to find pawful.”
Extraordinaire shook his head, starting to get a little desperate to get out of there. “Look, I don’t know what impression you got, but I assure you me finding those was purely accidental! I mean, I just started kicking at the ground and gems started flying about! I can promise you, I’m not very good at finding—”
“White dragon not understand!” the one who had called herself “Fidella” cut in. “Many dogs in pack see white dragon find many, many gems, many, many times! That is reason we want dragon’s help. Dragon way better than anydog in pack!”
Extraordinaire chuckled nervously, trying to not look like he was searching around for an escape route. “Now, I think you’ve got it all wrong; I’m not skilled at finding gems, I just have an experience with it that’s mostly all luck, let me tell you. And I don’t think pure luck is what you’re looking for; you need somegon who has a real skill for it, not—”
“Dragon’s tail show what dragon’s best at, yes?” The one called “Checkers” interrupted, the look on her face indicating that she wasn’t buying a word he said. “If dragon no good at gem-finding, why dragon’s tail have diamonds?” She folded her arms and gave a smug grin.
Extraordinaire opened his mouth to try to deny it further, but then promptly shut it. They were clearly not as dumb as he’d thought, unfortunately. Or at least the leaders weren’t. Still, that didn’t mean the rest of the pack had more intelligence than a sack of rocks to put together. He had one more weapon at his disposal. And I will use it to the fullest measure, he thought grimly to himself.
It was time to turn on the complaining up to eleven.
A couple hours after Extraordinaire had left, Silver Bolt had, surprisingly, not left the Boutique as a smoldering, charred heap of ruins. After all, one didn’t need to cook to take care of a cat. The oven was thoroughly intact, the utensils were left unmelted, and the entire kitchen (and the rest of the building) was mercifully left every shade but sooty black.
Now, there may have been a few claw marks on the ceiling from where Jasper had attempted to hang on for dear life (how, Silver had no idea, but flew up to get him down, much to the cat’s dismay). Other than that, things had been relatively kept in order for the past two hours: the house was clean, no more damage had been caused, Jasper had been fed, and the cat had finally let Silver pet him after realizing the little Dragonling wasn’t going to crush him to death.
There was still one thing nagging at Silver’s mind, though; his brother wasn’t back yet. He’d said it’d be a couple hours, but there were still no signs of Extraordinaire’s return at all. And despite the calm of the afternoon once the earlier debacle had subsided, he couldn’t help but feel worry pricking at the edges of his mind. “He must’ve been delayed,” he said to himself, turning towards Jasper on the counter as if hoping he’d have the answers. “He always likes to be on time, though, ‘fashionably late’ or not. What could’ve kept him out for so long?” The only response from the cat was a plaintive meow, not quite sure what the Dragonling was saying, but knowing he missed his owner, too.
At that moment, the tinkling of the bell above the door could be heard. Silver Bolt perked up and bounded towards the door, eager to see his brother again. “Extraordinaire! Where did you go? You’ve been gone over two…” He trailed off upon seeing that the Dragoons at the door did not, in fact, include his brother. “…hours.” He let out a disappointed sigh.
Nightfall, currently wedged between Apple Slice and the doorway, managed to squeeze himself into the building, glancing around before his eyes fell on the Dragonling in the room who was most definitely not Extraordinaire. “He hasn’t come back yet?” he asked with a slight tilt of his head. “Do you know which direction he left in?”
Silver Bolt nodded, his worry, and the others’, starting to grow as they realized neither of them were sure exactly what had happened.
A certain Unicorn filly was suddenly seized by terror at the thought that anything could have happened to Extraordinaire; particularly something bad. Wishful wasn’t patient enough to wait for an answer, and jumped off of Nightfall’s back, running towards Silver until she was close enough to make Nightfall and Extraordinaire’s first encounter look downright roomy in comparison. “Where’d he go? Tell us now, or I’ll… I’ll…”
“Wishful, you’re scaring the poor Dragonling! This isn’t Midnight Darkscales you’re talking to; he’s younger than you are!” Nightfall chastised, shaking his head, pulling her back to his side with his magic. “Sorry about that, but she gets a little… over-enthusiastic when Extraordinaire’s well-being is in question.”
Silver crossed his arms, “He’s my brother and you don’t see me attacking anygon for information,” he said with a huff.
Wishful narrowed her eyes. “Because you already have it!” she shot back at him with a stomp of a hoof for emphasis.
“Alright, both of ya’ll simmer down now,” Apple Slice cut in, giving the both of them a stern look. “We ain’t gonna get anywhere by shoutin’ at each other.” His look softened as he turned to Silver. “Now, back to the question at claw; where’d yer brother go?”
“As far as I know, he headed towards the gem fields outside of town,” Silver said with a shrug. “It’s where he usually goes when he needs to think.”
At this point, Nightfall seemed to snap out of his thoughts, a light going on in his head. “That’s it! He must’ve headed out there to cool off after our…” His earfins drooped down a bit as he remembered exactly why Extraordinaire left. “…our argument.”
“Hey, no use worrying about it now; we’ve got our friend to find!” Prism Slash said, looking ready to fly out the window by himself. “If he’s got into any trouble, we can easily just go and teach trouble why you don’t mess with us!”
Timidwings finally spoke up, looking around nervously, “I hope there won’t be too much fighting; I’d hate for anygon to step too close to real danger… again. “
Slash scoffed and patted Timidwings’ head. “Relax, Timmy. We can easily beat up anything that tries to hurt us.” He grinned a little to himself. “Besides, ‘Danger’ is my middle name.”
Goody was unable to restrain himself at this point. “Wait, I thought it was—”
“Don’t. Say it.” Slash practically growled, nearly snout-to-snout with Goody in his anger, little prismatic particles escaping his mouth and nearly into Goody’s face.
The pink Dragoon, to his credit, did not bat an eye at the glare. He just shrugged, “Okay!” and pushed Slash’s snout a comfortable distance away.
“Aaaanyways, once you two are done messing around, we need to get back on the task at claw; finding Extra!” Nightfall said, subtly pulling the two further apart with his magic. Slash and Goody, to their credit, had the good grace to look ashamed, pointedly staring down at the floor, the window, the door; anything but each other and Nightfall.
“So… to the gem fields then?” Slice asked.
Nightfall nodded with determination. “To the gem fields!”
The Gem Fields, to their collective dismay, were entirely unoccupied, except by their namesake. Gems lay scattered about in some places, and in the midst of one wide area of uncovered gems was a shallow crater in the ground.
“Well… somegon was definitely mad,” Slash whistled, a little impressed. “Remind me not to get on the end of his claws when he isn’t heading out here to cool down.”
Nightfall scanned the crater with his magic, noting the cause as a shockwave caused by Extraordinaire’s magic. He could tell that magical signature anywhere by now; though this was the first time he’d seen it used violently. “He was definitely here,” He said, glancing around, “But I don’t think he could’ve… wait a minute…” As he looked around, he widened his scan of the area, and little details that were previously at the edge of his senses were now fully exposed. Extraordinaire’s magical signature went from outside the crater to a rock wall, almost like a faint, squiggly line in the air.
Nightfall followed the trail like, well, a dog on a scent, until he found another clue midway between the crater and the rock wall. Clumps of fur lay on the ground, as if cut or torn from their owner; but more importantly, they had his friend’s signature on them as well. “Diamond Dogs!” he said to himself, both shocked and a little confused. Extraordinaire wasn’t there, which obviously meant they had won the scuffle; but how did they do it? “But wait; how exactly could they beat Extraordinaire? They’re not strong enough to overpower a fully-grown dragon, and they’re dumb as a sack of rocks!”
“We could always follow that trail of red thread to find out!” Goody cut in, suddenly next to Nightfall and pointing off to his right.
“Goody, what are you talking… oh.” Nightfall just barely resisted the urge to slap himself for overlooking the bright red trail of thread leading from nearby towards the entrance to a cave hewn into a fairly large rock formation.
The whole group was silent for a moment, before the stillness was broken by the Unicorn in their party, the little filly bounding towards the cave like her life depended on it. “Well, come on guys! Let’s go save Extraordinaire!” And so, the rest of them followed, just barely able to keep up with her on foot.
Upon arriving at the entrance to the cave, everygon—plus one filly—came to a brief stop. Looking over their surroundings, Nightfall took one look at the imposing cavern before turning to look Wishful right in the eye.
“Wish,” he began firmly, “I think this is going to be quite dangerous. You should return to the library and—”
The filly didn’t let him finish, cutting him off instead.
“No!” She snapped with a stamp of a hoof. “I’m helping! It can’t be that dangerous! I matched Midnight Darkscales spell for spell for a few minutes, and I think he was way more dangerous than some stupid Diamond Dog strays could ever be!”
“But he almost—” Nightfall tried to counter, but was cut off again.
“Yes, Darkscales almost killed me!” Wishful huffed, rolling her eyes. “But these are Diamond Dogs! They have rocks for brains! We can outwit them, easy! Who knows? Maybe my abilities might actually be required! If they could subdue Extraordinaire, there’s gotta be something more to this! Maybe a new enemy? If that’s the case, you’d need to send a letter, right?”
Nightfall opened his mouth to try to argue, but failed to come up with any counterpoints and just sighed.
“Out-logiced again,” the librarian grumbled. “Fine, you can come along, Wish. Just don’t get into any trouble, okay?”
“I won’t. I can’t promise it won’t try to find me, though.” Wishful snarked. “Now, let’s get in there already!”
Nightfall glanced around at the others, looking to see if they were ready; sure enough, all of them appeared to be eager to get the rescue going—even Timidwings, who was staring out at the darkness of the cavern with no small amount of trepidation. “Do you think they took him far into the tunnels?” he asked, “Because I don’t know if he had enough string to let us follow him…”
Prism rolled his eyes. “Of course he does; it’s Extra. He never goes anywhere without three sewing kits, at a minimum.”
Timidwings let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Good. Umm… can we go now, then? Before he’s taken further away? If you don’t mind…”
Nightfall nodded, taking the lead once more. “Of course. Wishful, light your horn, and I’ll light mine—we’ll need it down there, from the looks of things.”
Wishful sent a salute in his direction, before her horn lit up, emitting a brilliant green glow. Nightfall did the same with his magic, and with three sources of light—one green, two purple—the group began their descent into the cave system.
Meanwhile, Extraordinaire had employed his final tactic: lots of complaining. Even though the leader of his captors was somehow able to endure his complaints, the others weren’t.
“And another thing,” the white Dragoon snapped. “It smells horrible down here! Do any of you even bathe?”
“Make it stooooop! Dessa, make annoying white dragon stoooop!”
“Pleeease, we can’t stand it anymoooore!”
Extraordinaire, despite his outward state of passionate protest, was trying very hard not to crack a smile. His plan was working! “Oh, and one more thing! Do you even have ventilation down here? The air is as stale as a week-old bread roll!” He fanned the air with his wings for emphasis, making a loud, disgusted huff as he smelt the air.
Dessa, to her credit, was not as fazed as her lackeys. She was, however, getting very, very annoyed. She stood in the midst of a circle of her fellows, her eye twitching as she glared at the others with more than a hint of dismay. All but her were currently lying on the cave floor with their paws over their ears, squirming in what had to be exaggerated agony. “Your complaining isn’t making this any better, Checkers!” Dessa growled, resisting the urge to cover her own ears. Honestly, the sound of her lackeys’ whining was almost as annoying as the white dragon’s. Almost.
“But Dessa, it huuuuurts us! It burns our earses!”
“Uhuh, it buuuuuurns them!”
Dessa rolled her eyes, quickly getting fed up with their antics. “Enough out of you! Quit your yapping or I’ll make you quit.”
“But Dessaaaaa—” The sound of the two whining in stereo was too much for Dessa. The Diamond Dog leader proceeded to give Checkers and Fidella a strong whack on the head, earning a pained groan from both of them.
“Quit your whining! If the white dragon won’t shut up, then you have to make him shut up. Not just stand here making it worse!”
“Alright, alright! We’ll do it, just no hit us again!” Checkers muttered, rubbing her head gingerly with a visible grimace. She turned slightly, nudging her companion, “Come on. Let’s make puny dragon shut big mouth.”
Extraordinaire, of course, was aware of everything they had said, and knew his game would be up if he didn’t do something fast. With that in mind, he glanced around, looking for a figurative (or literal, as the case might be) way out. He noted quickly that though the leader was for the most part unaffected by his tactics, the rest of the pack was, as were the two leader’s flunkies to a lesser degree. And if he could just get the two groups to fight each other... “Extraordinaire, you’re brilliant!” he muttered to himself, keeping his expression as cool as possible under the circumstances.
With his plan prepared, Extra pointed a claw towards the two diamond dogs approaching him and let loose his powers of complaint, in the whiniest, most petulant voice he could muster, somewhere between ‘crying Hatchling’ and ‘angsty Dragonock’, “But these three are the worst of everything else down here! I mean, you’ve been nothing but rude, coarse, unladylike brutes ever since you saw me! Whyyyyy did you have to drag me down heeeeeere? Some kind of leaders you are, that can’t even manage to provide a proper environment for a hostage! I mean, if you had just spruced the place up a little, I wouldn’t be bothered by it! But noooo, it’s dirty, icky, cold, clammy, and the lighting is terrible, and it’s ALL YOUR FAULT!”
Now that got a rise out of the other diamond dogs, who were slowly starting to turn their pained gazes towards their glorious leader. The white dragon had a point; if Dessa hadn’t taken the dragon hostage, they wouldn’t have needed to be subject to this kind of torture. “Me think the puny dragon is right!” one piped up, grumbling. “Ever since you captured dragon, we’ve had to put up with it!”
“Yeah, you told us white dragon would be useful, but it’s just made our ears hurt!” another shouted, pointing a paw accusingly towards Dessa.
Fidella and Checkers stopped dead in their tracks, utterly stunned by the sudden turn of events. Dessa, on the other claw, was grinding her teeth and glaring at Extraordinare, immediately realizing that he was trying to sow dissention in the ranks.
“Quiet!” Dessa snapped. “White dragon will shut up now, or Dessa will punish white dragon!”
“See?” Extraordinaire whined. “She’s threatening me! I just want to go home! It’s them who insist on keeping me down here! They’re the ones making me miserable! I’d have nothing to complain about if I could just leave!”
The regular Diamond Dogs were now all glaring daggers at their leader and her two flunkies, paws on their pickaxes.
“White dragon right!” a male howled, raising his pickaxe into the air. “Dessa, Fidella and Checkers bring white dragon here, so it their fault!”
“Make Dessa pay!” a female screeched, also raising her pickaxe.
“Make Dessa pay!” another dog agreed, and soon the entire pack were brandishing their pickaxes, chanting the same words over and over.
“Dessa! What we do now?” Fidella whimpered, her voice filling with panic.
“Yeah! Pack members form mob!” Checkers wailed. “What we do?”
Dessa was furious now. Thanks to the white dragon, she now had a rebellion on her paws.
“Black cloud make us stronger!” Dessa reminded her subordinates. “We clobber pack and make them pay for rebellion!”
The three lead females grabbed their own pickaxes and rushed towards the angry mob, desperate to put down the sudden uprising Extraordinaire had created.
“Extraordinaire!” a familiar voice called out, causing the tailor to whirl around to hear the sound of galloping hooves, flapping wings and clicking talons rapidly approaching.
The voice’s owner rounded a corner, revealing Wishful Legend, with the other five close behind her.
“Wishy! Nightfall! Slash! Slice! Goody! Timmy!” Extraordinaire cheered as he rushed to meet his friends. “I’m sorry to have worried all of you! Quickly! Let’s get out of here! I managed to get them to fight each other, but I don’t know how long that’ll last!”
But just as the group was about to be reunited, Dessa appeared out of nowhere and slammed a fist into Extraordinaire’s stomach, throwing him into the ceiling of the tunnel hub. The tailor groaned from the impact, then fell to the ground, leaving him dazed.
“White dragon not leaving!” Dessa roared as her eyes turned black as pitch, a cloud of darkness rising from her body and filling the area behind her. The rest of her pack started to emerge from the cloud, their eyes also consumed by the same blackness, sporting bloodthirsty expressions and twitching like dangling marionettes as they approached.
“Oh, no…” Nightfall whispered, shaking his head in disbelief as he stared at the enfolding scene with mounting horror. “That’s not possible! This can’t be happening!”
“Hello, ‘Chosen Six’,” a voice boomed from the cloud of darkness, with a haughty intonation like steel scraping across stone. “What do you think of my handiwork? This pack of strays is under my command!”
The exact nature of the voice was indescribable, for each that heard it heard a different voice, a voice that seemed to convey the very essence of whatever they feared most. Whether male, female, both or neither, whether plural or singular, whether a living thing, place, object, or idea, whatever features described their greatest fear, that’s what the voice seemed to be to each one hearing it.
“Wh-Who’s there?” Timidwings squeaked. “Wh-what do you want?”
“I am both simple and complex,” the voice replied. “I am both everywhere and nowhere. I am both orderly and chaotic, but I am not balanced in the slightest. I am as old as the universe itself, and though I love chaos and order, I despise balance. Have you fools pieced it together yet? What fits that description more than anything else? Come on, remember the tales! Use those masses of jelly you call brains and think!”
“No, you can’t be,” Nightfall muttered in an almost desperate tone, shaking his head over and over as he slowly backed up. “You just can’t! You can’t be here! It’s impossible for you to be here!”
Wishful and the other five Dragoons all stared at Nightfall, utterly confused as to what he was talking about.
“At least one of you has figured it out,” the voice chuckled, the tunnel around them quaking slightly with every word, every syllable, every last intake of breath. “Sorry, Bearer of Power, but I am here. At least, in part. I am far beyond your puny comprehension, so of course you’d try to convince yourself that I’m not here. But here I am, Nightfall Sheen, Student of Lumin Draconis. Like it or not, I’m here. And yet, I’m also not here.”
The words the voice was saying didn’t make any sense, but the one filly and the five other Dragoons slowly started to piece together the references to tales they’d heard when they were very young, and soon, they’d joined Nightfall in his realization, and they couldn’t believe it either.
“Havoc!” Wishful shrieked, bolting to cower behind the Dragoons. “Y-y-y-you can’t be—”
“Exactly,” the voice snickered, a small amount of rocks and dust sent tumbling from the ceiling by the mere reverberation of the sound. “I’m the very embodiment of imbalance. I’m what your religion fears more than anything else. I’m the one who turned the Orions against the ancient Wyrms, forcing Gwynnia and her mate to devour the magma of the Volcano of Origin to save Dragonkind so the Orions had no choice but to flee beyond the stars. I’m the one who your King and Queen left to stop. I’m the exact opposite of the divinity who created your universe. I’m the one who corrupted Umbra and turned him into Midnight Darkscales. I’m the mastermind behind almost every conflict to ever befall your world. My name is Havoc! The Great Disruptor! I won’t allow the Components of Balance to get in my way again! That’s why I had the Diamond Dogs abduct the Bearer of Sacrifice. I don’t care if you know my reasons or plans. It matters not what I tell you and what I keep from you, for you’re nothing compared to me! With even one of you six out of the picture, the Components won’t work at all! If you all make it out of this alive, don’t expect me to reveal myself every time you disrupt my plans. This is merely an introduction, so that you know who you’re really up against! I will throw the scales of Balance into disarray, with them swinging back and forth between extreme order and extreme chaos like a pendulum, throwing your realm into mass hysteria, panic, confusion, and, of course, havoc.”
Every word was like a punch to the gut, sending their confidence plummeting, one by one. They had no idea how to deal with… with Havoc. This was far beyond anything they had even imagined confronting today. Naturally, they were somewhere between utterly confused and absolutely petrified. “This is bad,” Nightfall muttered. “This is very bad!”
“Mammy, Pappy,” Slice whispered, tears in his eyes, “Ah’m comin’ ta join ya’ll. Ah jus’ wish Ah coulda said g’bye ta Apple Blast, firs’.”
“We’re going to die,” Extraordinaire wailed. “We’re all going to die, and I never even designed our Bash suits!”
“This isn’t fair, this just isn’t fair!” Slash screamed. “I had my whole life ahead of me!”
“My poor animals are going to have to fend for themselves!” Timidwings sniffed. “I hope the poor dears can make it without me.”
“I won’t get to throw another party ever again,” Goody sighed regretfully, his head fins seeming to deflate as tears filled his eyes. “I’ll miss everygon’s smiling faces.”
“That’s right, Chosen Six,” Havoc laughed as the horde of Diamond Dogs got closer and closer. “Give in to your despair! You can’t defeat me! Even with only a small part of my presence actually here, you’re still no match for me! Diamond Dogs! Put them out of their misery!”
Wishful, at this point, had stopped cowering and instead stared at her father figure and his friends in disbelief. How could they just give up? Havoc may border on all-powerful, but Diamond Dogs—even with Havoc’s influence—had limits!
“What are you doing?” Wishful demanded, getting the attention of the six despairing Dragoons. “That’s not all of Havoc, it’s only a small sliver of the creature! Havoc said this was just a part, not the whole, after all! The Components’ whole purpose is to restore Balance, right? Havoc is pure imbalance! These Diamond Dogs can be purified, just like Lord Umbra was! Without the Diamond Dogs to control, Havoc will have to face you head-on, and if Havoc is using the Diamond Dogs instead of just attacking you outright, this puppetmaster must be nothing without puppets to command!”
It was as if a spell had been broken, fear quickly giving way to determination across the faces of the other six. Nightfall was the first to recover, his hopeless frown turning into a grim smile that promised Havoc no easy fight. “She’s right!” Nightfall declared, “We can’t just give up! Get ready to fight, guys! Wishful, send a letter to Lord Lumin so he knows we need the Components!”
The other five nodded, taking battle stances as Wishful started hastily scratching out a letter to Lumin to inform him of their plight.
“Ready…” Nightfall said, acting like a general to the other five.
The others tensed, ready to spring in an instant, eyes burning with determination as the fighting that had been in every single dragon’s blood without exception for over ten thousand years overcame all their fears.
“Attack!” Nightfall roared, and the Chosen Six charged to meet their adversaries, ready to fight with all of their power to buy enough time for Wishful to send the letter and for Lumin to send them the Components.