In a farthest, most forbidding corner of Tiemirion, a dark castle covered with snow is lost amidst the mountains. Inside, a tall woman of striking but cruel beauty paces the floor furiously, her long nails almost tearing the flesh of her palms. A pathetic, broken figure covered with hideous burns grovels on the floor before her.

"The Dragons fled before I had a chance to retrieve the Stone," Firesting croaks, "and they left a terrible trap behind them. Have mercy on me, my lady!"

"Mercy?!" Saihve screams. "Useless wretch! A fiery death is far too good for you!"

She snaps her fingers, and a couple of silent guards pick up the whimpering magician and toss him out of the castle's window. They hear a piercing scream as Firesting lands into the snow and rolls down the mountain side until he disappears from sight. In the castle, Saihve turns towards a motionless figure floating inside what looks like a giant pillar of light.

"I've had it with those fools!" she says angrily. "No more minions! This time around, I shall rely on myself to get the accursed Orb!"

"You're being unreasonable, my love," answers the Dark Lord. "Some servants may fail, but others have proved their use more than once. I wouldn't want you to risk yourself."

"Do you think me a weakling?" sneers Saihve. "I have won the Dragon Stone before, back when my power was but a shadow, with the whole Dragonhood of Casthellea standing against me! No, beloved, you know nothing of what I'm capable of."

"I cannot stop you," says the Dark Lord sadly, "I only wish I could be at your side..."

***

"Are we there yet?"

"For the thousandth time, Jostanos," an irritated voice replied, "NO!"

"Chill out, Argent, I was only curious," the lad cajoled, but it was no use, the old dragon had had enough.

"Morph."

"What?!"

"Morph now, Jostanos, into your dragon form so we may have it out now."

/Uh-oh,/ Amthet thought to Atheus and Daria, /Dad has done that only to one other person, and that was his rival./

"Stay out of this, three of you," Argent ordered. "It is time to teach this young drake a lesson."

Shardspray was bewildered by all of this. "Just because I asked if we were at our destination yet?"

"Over 100 times? YES!" came the reply. "Prepare yourself, Drake, for I won't be as gentle as your cousins!"

Out of Argent's maw came a lozenge-like grenade that exploded, turning into shards of Amethyst and Ice, causing some damage to some of Shardspray's body.

"WHAT?!" Argent was stunned. "You are still standing?! That attack should have knocked you out at least."

"I am a Great Siberian Dragon, Argent," the younger dragon replied with a grin. "We thrive in cold temperatures..." *CONE OF COLD*

Not entirely ready for the blast, the elder dragon receives some damage as well.

"Impressive. So you are immune to Cold attacks?"

"Ice at least, if memory serves. You have been wanting to spar with either Coldmist or myself ever since we have arrived, in the place of your son, haven't you, Argent?"

"How did you guess?" the elder dragon backed down and made a 'time out' sign with his talons.

"Intuition," Shardspray replied. "It just took me awhile to figure out a way to prove it," he grinned.

"I guess I was the one that learned something," Argent admitted. "Shall we rejoin the others?"

"Yes, let's."

"Kissed and made up, I see," the Guide said with a smile.

"You -could- say that, Altheus," Jostanos replied, scuffing his boots in the soil nearby.

"I think we better resume our journey," says Daria curtly, looking not one bit impressed by the spectacle.

/Ah chill out, girl,/ chuckles the Spirit inside, /let the boys have their fun. Everyone's nerves have been tested to the limit in these last three days. And admit it, you wanted to give Jostanos a smack yourself, didn't you?/

/It's not that I want him to go,/ sighs Daria. /It's just that.../

/It's just that he behaves like a brat and you -still- do not trust him completely, do you?/ nods the Spirit. /Those who have been under Saihve's shadow do not emerge unchanged. But Coldmist and Altheus seem to have faith in him./

/Coldmist... I hope he is alright wherever he might be. I miss him, and Ramjen, too./

"Don't take this as another taunt, Argent, but really, how long have we got to go still?" asks Altheus, interrupting Daria and Spirit's invisible dialogue.

"Probably another week or so," says the older Dragon. "But this part of the trip will be much easier and, dare I say, pleasant. My homeland is one of the most beautiful places you could find anywhere in the multiverse, and I used to have many friends in these parts who could help us in our quest."

***

On Earth...

Coldmist was getting a reception at the base the likes of which he had never seen before. He was surrounded by soldiers with guns, and so was Ramjen, who was told to release his prisoner.

/Wouldn't you know it,/ he thought to Ramjen, / I can't morph back into my human form./

/Take it easy, Coldmist,/ the former guard coaxed. /Here comes someone./

"So this is the Dragon that brought down our fighters?" a voice asked from behind.

"If I wasn't angered by your driver here I might have been able to remain in my human form, sir." Coldmist replied, but the official heard growls, whines, and hisses.

"Can't you speak?"

/I guess this is the only way for you to hear me, sir,/ Coldmist broadcast to the official, who stood wide-eyed for a moment.

"I heard that clearly," he replied with a stunned look upon his face. "Why are you here? And why did you attack my fighters?"

/I came with my companion to learn more about the fine arts of music and magic.../ the juvenile dragon explained. /However, on the way here, your driver angered me enough that I can not resume my human form./ Coldmist thought for a few seconds. /At least not right away,/ he amended with a slight grin.

/Too much information, Coldmist,/ Ramjen thought to the dragon, then said, "Sir, we are from Casthellea, Homeworld of the Dragons."

At this news, one of the pilots gasps.

"Too much information, Ramjen? Puh-lease!" Coldmist laughs, but the official still doesn't get it.

"Do you understand one another, soldier?" he asked the former guard.

"Yes we do, sir," Ramjen replied, "Anyway, here is your driver." The young man fled for his life and hid in a hanger.

/As for the attack on your fighters,/ Coldmist began in an offhand manner, /they attacked me first without provocation./

***

After days of travel, the gloomy mountains gave way to green pastures and rolling hills, with small villages scattered here and there. The air was sweet and fresh, and every night they were treated to a glorious sunset that would make any master painter throw away their brushes in shame. In other circumstances, it would have been a great holiday, mused Daria, but as it was the tension was ever-present.

On Argent's advice, they all kept to human shapes, and Jostanos and Amthet were warned firmly against any foolish enterprises.

"People are generally accepting of our kind here in the north, but it's best not to attract any extra attention," said Argent, with a sideways glare directed at his son and Jostanos who at once put on the looks of puzzled innocence. "We especially don't need any whispers of silver-scaled dragons, which are not common to our world."

Just as Argent promised, on the seventh day of travel a city appeared on the horizon, it's spires and towers unlike anything Daria has ever seen on Britannia or Casthellea. Even Altheus, an experienced multiverse roamer, looked impressed as they entered the vast maze of Harmeyn and mingled with the colourful-looking crowds that were obviously used to strangers.

"Where now, friend Argent?" he said as the company managed to find some peace and quiet in a corner of a rather unremarkable and shabby tavern. Once again, Daria was aware that the question, or possibly the answer, gave the older dragon some disquiet.

"S'Argent, is that you?" asked a husky voice from the bar.

After taking a quick swing of Gingermint Ale, the person behind that voice strode over to the companions' table and said, "It -is- you, after all these years..."

The person danced with glee for a moment, then announced, "The food and drinks are on the house, S'Argent, will ya be needin' anything else?"

Baffled at this development as the rest of them were, the elder dragon asked, "Who are you? And what news since I have been gone?"

Each of the companions got a picture of another dragon in their minds holding a sign with the phrase: "Andreus'/'Andy, at your service, once again, Argent," painted on it.

"No special news, except that a mean woman came through last night looking for something called The Dragon Orb and nearly leveled the place when I told her that it wasn't here."

"Which way was she headed, Andy?" Altheus asked the Tavernkeeper.

"Towards the mountains in the west, if I remember correctly."

"What did she look like, that woman?"

"Oh... shortish, blond, harmless-looking right until she started to raise her voice. Looked like one of them travelling mages of the Necromian order, in fact."

/You think it was Saihve?/ asks Jostanos anxiously.

/Could be,/ replies Altheus, somewhat hesitantly. /But to be honest, I'm not sure. Remember, there are many people - and creatures - in this multiverse who would love to put their hands on something like Dragon Orb. And this just doesn't sound like Saihve's methods. My dear fiancee may have a furious temper, but in matters like this she prefers to work with silence and cunning of a snake./

"Say, Argent, are you going to visit you-know-who while you're in the city?" Andy interrupts their thoughtflow cheerfully, and gives Argent a wink. "It's about time you patched up things between you two."

/I think I'm speaking for all of us when I'm saying, who on earth is he talking about and does it happen to be this mysterious person we're supposed to meet?/ says the Spirit.

Argent, who is still rather confused about the whole idea of two minds in one body, gives Daria a scowl, then realises his mistake as the girl looks puzzled at his displeasure.

"Sorry, Daria, that was meant for that nosy wraith you carry." He sighs, then continues in mindspeech.

/I'm as confused as you are. He looks just like the Dragon from the vision given to me by the Orb, but this tavern is not the -place- from the vision!/

He turns back to Andreus. "I'm sorry, sir, but do I know you?" he says, with an almost pleading note that doesn't go unnoticed by anyone this time.

"Oh, I do apologize," says Andy, suddenly looking embarrassed. "What a fool I am, of course you wouldn't have recognised me now, I was but a little drake then, but then people do say I look a lot like my sister, so I just presumed..."

He is cut mid-sentence by a terrible groan as Argent buries his face in his hands. Oh Dragonlords, he thinks, all this time I felt that it is -her- I'm meant to meet again, I go into the nearest tavern to boost up my courage, and who do I run into? Her bloody brother!

***

On Earth...

"Stand down, gentlemen," the official ordered. "These two mean us no harm."

The soldiers slowly began to follow their commander's orders, but one was tentatively keeping his rifle aimed at the dragon.

/There is no way that this one could be from Casthellea,/ the soldier thought to himself. /He is a spy and must be dealt with!/ BLAM!

/IDIOT!/ Coldmist and the commander berated the soldier as one, then the dragon turned to look upon the one who shot at him. The soldier, the pilot Bubbac, was stunned with dragon fear and dropped the rifle.

/You are very lucky that you had missed, Bubbac,/ the dragon warned. /And yes, I -do- know that you are a dragon from Casthellea./

After a few moments of stunned silence the panicked soldier polymorphed into his dragon form and announced: "I too have a Draco Form and am from where these two are from. I admit it!"

"You were the dragon we sighted two weeks ago?"

"In all honesty, commander, yes," the new dragon replied with relief. "Staying in human form day after day for over 29 years is hard work for a dragon like myself, and I needed to stretch my wings."

To prove his point, Bubbac moves to a clearer part of the area and lightly flaps his wings.

/That's nice, Bubbac,/ Coldmist grinned, /but have you been practicing your other skills?/

"Other skills?" the other dragon asked. "What other skills?"

/Uh-oh,/ Ramjen semi-thought to himself. /May I, Jacrose?/

/Certainly, Ramjen./

"Bubbac," the former guard began, "Coldmist and I will help you to understand what and who you are. When your duties permit that is," he added, looking over at the commander, who in turn nodded in agreement.

***

With Andreus leading the way, the small group weaves its way along the crooked streets of Tiemirion until the grey-faced slums make way for a quiet alley lined generously with strange silver-leaf trees. Along the way, their guide keeps glancing curiously at Argent, who seems locked in grim silenece, and Argent's strange companions, but asks no questions.

Finally, they stop at the front porch of a small house, which is overgrown with weeds to the point where it's impossible to see the material it was built with.

"Ready, Argent?" asks Andreus. The older Dragon grunts and makes a dismissive gesture that says, I will never be.

"Oh Marion, you've got a visitor," says Andreus cheerfuly as he knocks loudly on the door.

"And now we are nine," Altheus murmured with a smile as a beautiful woman opened the door.

"Argent, what a pleasant surprise," Marion smiled benignly. "Please come in, and join me for dinner."

As the companions filed in, Daria felt a tug from a web.

/Cousin Daria, do you read me?/ came the transmission, although a bit sketchy.

/Jacrose?/

/Yep! And do I have news for you and the rest of our crew!/ Jacrose replied and proceeded to tell of his, and Ramjen's, discovery at a base on a planet called Earth.

Daria listens with great interest until something in her cousin's story catches her attention and makes her gasp. /So, how much time has actually passed since you and Ramjen has been on this Earth of yours?/

She nods at Jacrose's estimation. /It seems that time passes slower here on Tiemirion than it does on your world. Who knows, I might age into an ancient crone the next time we meet!/ And she recounts the events of the last week or so... until the link suddenly gets severed...

***

On Earth...

"What did you do to Coldmist?" the agrieved former guard asked Bubbac, who replied, "He was transmitting classified information to an unknown and had to be stopped."

"That "unknown", as you put it, was your Cousin Great Siberian, you IDIOT!" Ramjen shouted as he punched the new dragon in the snout. "She needed that information to know how we were doing here because we were sent here to learn, and to protect your realm!"

***

Argent keeps looking sideways at Marion with a puzzled expression in his eyes, until she smiles at him with understanding. "Now, Argent, do you think I'm still angry at you? We were both young and foolish, and made mistakes. Drink a cup with me, old friend, and let the bygones be bygones. And you still haven't introduced me to your son and your friends!"

"I guess I haven't, haven't I?" he sheepishly grins, and begins the introductions. As Argent introduces each of the companions to Marion, Daria gets another transmission, this time from Ramjen.

/Daria, Coldmist is OK. He was just knocked out by our latest find who thought we were sending military secrets out to an enemy./

/Military secrets? Oh dear. Whatever you dragged yourselves into, Ramjen?/ says Daria. /And for how long are you going to stay in that bizarre place?/

"Hey, have you seen Amthet anywhere?" Argent's puzzled voice interrupts the girl's concentration and she loses the connection again. She vaguely waves around with her hand.

"I saw your son just a few minutes ago, Argent, I think he was talking to Jostanos." But her cousin's helpless expression tells everyone that he's just as clueless about the youngest dragon's whereabouts.

"That little rascal must have slipped out of the room without anyone noticing," says Altheus with a chuckle. "He probably went down that corridor on the left... what is there, my lady?"

"Oh, nothing special," says Marian a little bit too quickly. "Just a bathroom and a couple of old bedrooms I never use anymore. If you just wait here, I'll go and fetch your son, Argent."

***

In fact, it -was- a bathroom Amthet was hoping to find, and he was also hoping to return quickly, before his absense was noticed and his father had a chance to chide him for bad manners. He was too embarrassed to ask the strange, slightly intimidating mistress of the house, and so he decided to investigate the matters himself, a decision he regretted a few minutes later when it became obvious that the old, tiny house they saw from the outside wasn't at all tiny on the inside. The dark corridor stretched further and further, livened up by nothing except ornamental-looking doors, all locked and none looking like a bathroom.

When it was obvious that Amthet wandered off too far and for too long, the young dragon sighed loudly and was ready to turn back... when a sudden noise attracted his attention.

Amthet froze on the spot and felt his skin turn prickly with fear, and was only shaken back into motion when the noise repeated. This time it was clear that it was coming from behind the door to his right.

"Er, hello?" Amthet ventures awkwardly.

"Who is there?" a muffled, yet familiar-sounding voice asks from the other side of the door.

"Um... my name is Amthet."

"Amthet? Argent's son? Is Argent here?" the voice says with a sudden edge to it.

"Yes, but... er... who are you?"

The voice is silent for a while. Then: "I'm Marion. Perhaps your father mentioned my name, or perhaps not considering our past history. What matters now is this, boy: your father is being fooled by a deadly impostor. I've no idea who she is or what she wants with your father. She didn't have time to kill me, she didn't even do a good job of gagging me, but she may well be on the course to finish off both of us right now if she suspects anything. You must warn your father, quickly!"

***

In the main hall...

/FATHER!/ came Amthet's frantic call.

/Amthet?! Where are you?/ his father replied angrily. /Nevermind that, just come back here now!/

/I'm with Marion, Father. The one you are with is an impostor, be careful!/

/We will be, son. Get back here, with Marion, when you can./

***

Amthet tried the door to the room, and it opened to greet him with a swirl of dust and unaired smell. It looks like it was once a luxurious room, before time ate away at the heavy furniture and tapestries. Lying on the floor there's a human figure who, disheveled look and ropes around her arms and legs aside, looks just like the stately woman Amthet met a few minutes ago.

With just a moment of hesitation, Amthet hurries to release the woman from her bonds and helps her stand up. She leans on his shoulder and tries to rub some life into her wrists... when they both hear someone walk along the corridor outside, the sound of steps getting closer.

"It's her!" Amthet gasps and looks desperately at Marion. "What are we going to do?"

"Do?" the woman asked him, "why nothing, you little, gullible fool. Come in, dear sister," she chimed, and the first Marion entered the room.

"They are waiting for this whelp in the main hall," Marion 1 began. "What shall we do with him?"

"He looks like he needs to go potty badly, so let's lock him in there," replied Marion 2.

"Where is the real Marion?" Amthet asked the twins.

"Not here, kiddo. Thank Saihve for that!" and they did as they threatened to do.

***

"What is taking her so long to get back with your son, Argent?" Jostanos asked impatiently. "We -do- have other business to attend to, you know."

"-That- Marion isn't the true Marion," Argent growled at the GSC, "so it would come as no suprise to me if Amthet was captured by her while trying to free Marion!"

***

On Earth, a few days later... Jacrose was coming to in an infirmary at the base.

"Good morning, Sir," greeted a young man in a pilot's uniform, "or should I say 'Cousin'?"

"I....Should...throttle...you....for what...you did...to me," came the raspy reply.

"I do apologize, Cousin Jacrose, I didn't know about our other cousins until Ramjen explained it all to me."

"Is he here?" Jacrose asked, his breathing getting better.

"He is sleeping in the next bunk over," the pilot replied. "He spent all of last night watching over you. By the way, I am Jonathan a.k.a. Bubbac."

"Jacrose a.k.a. Coldmist."

The cousins shook hands and smiled.

***

As Amthet collapses on the floor of the room, a weird sensation comes over him and he feels a stinging itch coming from above his left elbow. Before he can even call for help, the sleeping poison from one of the Marions' needles takes over him and he drifts into the clouds.

Outside the room, without changing pace, a dishevelled and dust-covered Marion 2 morphs smoothly into a perfect copy of Amthet. The sisters nod to each other as they continue their way back into the living room.

/What about the telepathy?/ suddenly asks "Marion".

/What about it?/ says "Amthet".

/The old Dragon may try mindspeech to contact his brat./

/Dear Saihve,/ flusters "Amthet". /Who do you take me for, a hedge magician? I'm a perfect copy down to every single detail./

/Didn't mean to offend you, Sarwe,/ says "Marion". /I may not trust henchmen anymore but I -can- rely on my own family, eh?/

The companions saw young Amthet and Marion coming down the hallway and nearly ran to them except for one fact...

/Argent! That's not Amthet!/ Daria quickly announced to the leader.

/What happened to him then?/

/His web just went slack before they arrived,/ she replied,/ but he is o.k. for the moment./

/Did they say something?/ "Amthet" asked "Marion"

/Must have been too tight a beam like ours for us to catch. Drat!/

***

On Earth...

Ramjen wakes up to find the cousins chatting about both of the worlds that they have been staying on for so long.

"So the prodigal guardian awakens at last, eh?" laughs Jacrose and hugs his former guard.

"-ME-?!" Ramjen faked being shocked. "-YOU- were the one who was out cold for about a four days, not me, amigo."

Just as the three of them were about to chat some more about lessons...

"ALL PILOTS TO YOUR PLANES! REPEAT! ALL PILOTS TO YOUR PLANES!"

"Gotta go, cuz!" Jonathan saluted, and bolted for his jet.

"Maybe I could help out, Ramjen," Jacrose suggested, "I mean, I can fly after all, when in Dracoform, and I may be of use."

"You -may- have to take that up with the commander of this base, Jacrose," his former guard advised. "He may not want an outsider getting in the way."

"Then again," chimed a new voice, "He just may allow Jacrose to morph Dragon and fly with our boys for support."

"Sir!" Ramjen and Jacrose saluted.

***

"Marion, Amthet, thank Dragonlords you're back!" says Argent with a picture-perfect expression of relief on his face, while he frantically asks Daria, /Who the hell are these??/

/The "Marion" one is Saihve,/ replies Daria grimly. /I'll recognise her thread anywhere. The one pretending to be your son is... somehow similar... maybe a relation? And she is much, much weaker, too./

"Your son is full of mischief, Argent," replies "Marion" with a smile, patting "Argent" on the head.

/I don't like these secret exchanges at all,/ she broadcasts to her sister. /That damned webweaver is studying us a little bit too intently. Damn and curse her!/

/You think we've been found out?/

/Maybe, maybe not... still, be prepared to switch to plan B.../

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Back to Fanfic / Back to the Main Page