“Awooga!” Tresk shouted.
Fenian fanned himself, looking Pogo up and down. “Awooga indeed,” he said, jumping from the commentator’s chair and sweeping across the room. “I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. Fenian Feintleaf, master duelist and potential master of your heart.”
Theo should’ve seen this coming. It was absolutely a mistake to bring the dragon straight to the commentator’s room, and he mentally kicked himself for doing it. But it was done. This can of worms was open and there was no going back.
“Dragon,” Theo said, nodding toward Pogo. “The same dragon that lurked under our town for years.”
“That means absolutely nothing to my yearning heart,” Fenian said, fluttering his eyelashes.
For her part, Pogo just looked moderately amused. It was as though a bit of attention wasn’t the worst thing in the world. If Theo was in her shoes, he’d melt, die, then turn into a pile of ash.
“New rule. No one romances the dragon,” Theo said. “Violation of this rule results in death. Don’t make me amend your contract.”
Fenian looked as though he was about to take a chance before drawing in a steady breath. “Fine. You win. For now.”
“He would not survive the mating process,” Pogo said, shaking her head. “I would crush him.”
“Oh, I just got an idea for an arena game!” Tresk shouted.
Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to get through this. Somehow. “Pogo will stick around until the end of the world, then I’ll take her and the other dragons to whatever world they want. From what I understand, they’ll pick one once they can meet.”
“May I suggest Erradon?” Fenian asked, once again fluttering his eyelashes.
“I’ll keep that in mind, weak little elf,” Pogo said. “I don’t believe your world is on our list, though.”
Fenian deflated. “What’s wrong with my world?”
“Well, there’s the war,” Tresk said with a shrug.
“What war?”
Theo turned, leveling his gaze at Fenian. “You seriously don’t know about the war? Your entire planet is a battle royale. That place is a serious mess.”
“No, it isn’t!” Fenian objected.
“It really is,” Theo said. “We’ll go after today’s games. I’m just dropping Pogo off with you guys so she can explain the dragon cultivation technique to Tresk. Pogo, if Fenian flirts with you, and you don’t like it, feel free to eat him. You can have the Throne of the Herald.”
Fenian squeaked, drawing in on himself.
Theo had to get out of the madness before he went nuts. Reminding himself that Pogo could take care of herself, he folded space and arrived back on Tero’gal. As expected, Elrin was hanging out at the same cafe they had eaten at the other day. The alchemist fell into a chair inside the building, leveling a tired look at the man.
“Today has been a day,” Theo said. “How many more shards do we need to move?”
“Just a few,” Elrin said, turning and gaining the attention of a server. They eventually came over, taking Theo’s order before scampering off once again. “Iaredin is far more balanced than I had expected. I suspect there’s a force I haven’t detected helping me out.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day. Meanwhile, I’m working with a brood of dragons back on Iaredin. You’d think it’d be easier to find a group of giant lizards, but no. They’re apparently great at hiding.” Theo drew in a massive breath, allowing his forehead to fall against the surface of the table. “You have a dragon, right?”
“Not really. I have a dungeon-generated dragon,” Elrin corrected. “You found real dragons? I’ve always wanted to tame one.”
“Well, they’re sapient, so that might be impossible. Anyway, we’re homies now so you can’t have them.”
“Did you happen to see a white dragon? Scales like frost?” Elrin asked.
“Nope.”
“Damn. I have a score to settle with that one. Anyway, tell me the story. Your food will take a minute.”
Theo retold all the information he wanted to share with Elrin. His trust in the man had increased significantly, but there were still things he didn’t like about him. It was all the information he needed, which was apparently good enough. The duo then ate their food, drank the curious coffee drink, then headed out to grab a few more shards.
“Sure we haven’t missed any space elves?” Elrin asked, pressing his hands against one of few remaining shards.
“I’m certain. I don’t feel anything here,” Theo said. “And the stability of the island is almost nothing. Once we get down to only a handful of your special shards, this place will crumble.”
“Good riddance. This island is an affront,” Elrin said, looking at the landscape with disdain. “The sooner we set this right, the better. This place is a strain on the system.”
“Sounds about right,” Theo said, affixing the tracker-thingy to the shard. “Last trip of the day?”
Taken from NovelBin, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Yup.”
Thank god. It wasn’t super taxing, but heading back and forth between the island and the mortal realm always brought with it a foreboding sensation. Especially now that the void island was getting less stable, Theo wanted nothing to do with it. The feeling would fade. Eventually.
“Just leave me here,” Elrin said. He had planted the last shard of the day, and was touching it. Theo suspected this was a way to nurse it back to health, or something along those lines. “I need to visit them all before the day is done.”
“Sounds good. Just send a carrier pigeon or something if you need something,” Theo said, vanishing before he could respond.
Theo arrived back in the commentator’s booth, and paused. “Did he try it?” he asked, gesturing to the prone form of Fenian on the ground. The elf was being attended by a few healers, returning his insides to their rightful place.
“Yup,” Tresk said, not looking away from the window. Pogo was in the seat next to her, giving lively commentary on the current fight. “He made a pass, she tried to eat him, we all had a laugh. Good times.”
“Worth it,” Fenian groaned, giving Theo the thumbs-up.
The alchemist leaned against the commentator’s table, watching the fight play out below. It was one of the last of the day, meaning it was one of the intense ones. Two fighters were standing off, flashing with movement every few seconds but otherwise appearing motionless.
“That human has a way about them,” Pogo announced. “Their fighting spirit can’t be denied. They shall win.”
“I dunno, he’s looking tired to me,” Tresk countered. “A couple more hours and one might actually make progress in killing the other.”
“Bah, we shall institute a point system or something,” Pogo said. “No one has time for such nonsense. I declare blue the victor.”
“Ya can’t do that,” Tresk said. “There’s a judge down there. Don’t discount the will of the judge.”
The point system came into play shortly after that and the red fighter was declared the winner. The judge then announced the point system would be the norm going forward, since the battles would otherwise take days to complete. It wasn’t a feature of the fights Theo had a problem with, so he refrained from voicing his opinion. It was, after all, not something he was willing to dip his toes into. The staff running the games had done such an excellent job so far, and interfering would only sour the games.
“You good?” Theo asked, looking down at Fenian.
The elf had his torso exposed, bright pink streaks across his abdomen still visible. Pogo had really torn into him, and it was a shock that there was anything left of the man.
“He’ll be good enough to walk, but he needs to heal up,” the attending healer said, shaking her head. “Seriously. Who flirts with a dragon?”
“This guy,” Fenian said, pointing at himself with both thumbs.
“You went from dealing with time-related sickness, to getting your ass kicked by a dragon,” Theo said. “Great work, buddy.”
“Thanks,” Fenian croaked. “Shall we get going?”
Theo nodded, pointing at Tresk and Pogo. “You guys coming? We’re gonna show Fenian how his world is currently burning.”
“Sounds fun,” Tresk said, pushing herself off from her seat. “Can we get snacks?”
“We can get snacks,” Theo confirmed.
With everyone in agreement, Theo wrapped them all in his aura and folded space. Even Alex came along, blipping from her position flying above the arena and arriving in the imagined world Fenian had been born into. They appeared far outside a central city, named Vesta, and looked upon the assembled army.
“When did this happen?” Fenian asked, groaning as he rose to his feet. “What in the hells are they fighting over?”
“Land or something,” Tresk said with a shrug. “I stop by every so often to check out who has the upper hand.”
“What happens when they die?” Theo asked.
“Depends. Some go to Death’s place, but others stay here,” Tresk said. “I don’t know the logic behind it.”
The city had been in tatters the last time Theo had seen it, but he didn’t think it was this bad. The army assailing the gates was making good progress, destroying the carefully laid stones Fenian had assembled to make his dream world. When the alchemist had visited it before, there were a few fights here and there. But there had been nothing to this scale, which was beyond concerning.
“Seriously, what’s got them whipped up?” Theo asked. “Every other world is peaceful.”
Fenian scratched his chin. “I can’t imagine what’s gotten into them.”
Pogo was swiping her hands through the air, as though going through many screens. She scoffed, looking at the elf with an expression Theo could only describe as concern. “Might be in the fact that you set the rules for your world to include ‘fighting all the time,’ but, hey. I’m not an expert.”
“I don’t recall that specific line of instruction during the creation of my world,” Fenian said, laughing nervously. “How can you see that, by the way?”
“I’ll bite you again,” Pogo said, showing her all-too-human teeth.
“Yes, ma’am. I might’ve had the idea to turn this into a gladiator world to create the sector’s best fighter,” Fenian said. “But I didn’t expect them to destroy my toys.”
“You told them to fight and be the strongest, and you didn’t expect them to fight?” Theo asked.
“Not everyone can make their world into a utopia. We’ll just have to correct the locals,” Fenian said. “Except, they’re not locals. These are migrants from the other worlds.”
“Congratulations, you’ve created a convict planet,” Tresk said, patting Fenian on the lower back. “Maybe we can strike some fear in their hearts or something.”
“Or something,” Theo muttered. “Pogo, want to discuss our draconic venture while these chuckleheads sort the warring armies out?”
“But of course,” Pogo said, walking off. Fenian looked after her as she went, breathing a heavy sigh.
Once they were out of earshot, Theo shook his head. “I wanted to avoid stuff like this. The four worlds were supposed to be stable. But now we have some post-apocalyptic hell to contend with.”
“It isn’t as bad as you think,” Pogo said, shaking her head. “We could seed a Dragon Flight on this world to restore order. That assumes we can generate new clutches. And then, those dragons will be whelps.”
“The issue is generating draconic energy, right?”
Pogo shook her head. “That’s the short version. Generating it isn’t as much of an issue. Spreading it and ensuring it integrates into the world is the biggest problem.”
“Sounds like something we can work on,” Theo said. “But you’re right. There won’t be enough dragons to police a world like this. Maybe that’s not the right approach.”
Theo found himself including these Dragon Flights into his plans. Pogo had always been reliable, if not a bit mysterious. What he knew was that the dragons were powerful. They were far more powerful than they had any right to be, which meant they could be used a defensive force. Attackers entering the sector might think twice coming up against a bunch of angry dragons.
“I think there’s a creepy jungle in this direction,” Theo said, nodding westward.
“The Inf Forest,” Pogo said. “I’m quite familiar with it.”
“Oh! Maybe you can teach me some more old Iaredin lore,” Theo said. “I’m interested in the history around here… And, yeah. I understand this is just a copy. But I’m finding myself wistful for a culture I was never a part of.”
“You have an interesting way of expressing your desires,” Pogo said. “Come, I’ll teach you about the beastmen hordes and how they almost destroyed the planet.”
“Cool.”