Dusty Red ~ Part 13

So here we are again, back to Friday. I'm sure Fridays are more frequent than they used to be... Option 2 was voted in, great job to all those who commented! (Not so great job to those who didn't.)
I've been thinking lately that maybe I should change the Dusty Red picture...What do all of you think about it? Should I keep it as it is or make something different? I can't quite decide...

I would also like to mention that my cousin, Jessica (the one I write letters to), has started a blog -- it's amazing that she even knew how! Ok, maybe she's not that bad but to use her own words, "I yet remain ignorant in the ways of using modern day technology to its full potential." So you should check out her blog of 'Inspiration' and be inspired!

I shall now allow you to get on with the reading of Dusty Red part 13.

She threw her weight against the door, slamming it shut with a ‘bang’ right in Queen Alwyn’Miriella’s face. Skilf leant her back against the door, sighing in relief.

Flicks stared at her in horror. “Do you realise,” she said slowly. “That you just slammed that door in a Queen’s face?” 

Skilf nodded unashamedly, “Aye, that I do. Bit hard not to notice.”

“Do you have a death wish?” Flicks asked helplessly.

“No, but do you blame me for doing it?”

Flicks hesitated, “Well…no, things were getting a bit out of hand.” She glanced around the room. “Not that they’re much better now.”

“You can say that again,” Skilf muttered. “What should we do?”

A loud crash came from the throne room behind them and Flicks raised her eyebrows, “Run.”

Skilf pushed out her bottom lip, “Could be a good plan.”

“Well, it’s the only plan I have,” Flicks replied.

As the two girls ran along the tiled hallway, the door behind them burst open with a boom, showering the runners with dust. Flicks grabbed Skilf’s arm and dragged her through a side door.

The clatter of footsteps came along the corridor. Flicks had left the door slightly ajar and she peered through the crack now, trying to see who the footsteps belonged to. 

The figure that emerged through the dust looked somewhat familiar. Flicks frowned as she tried to place it. Skilf tapped her shoulder. “I found something interesting,” she said in Flicks’ ear.

Flicks turned and Skilf waved an arm at the wall on which hung a tapestry. Flicks took a step towards it. On the tapestry there was written some kind of verse or poem, Flicks read it aloud in a soft whisper:

“There will come a day when Dragontíre hall

Will be met with the greatest evil of all,

By name of Aldutch, a powerful Touch,

A wielder of magic with power at call.

The Willow Wall shall be our hope,

The Dragontwins shall hold the rope,

In a millionth of second, they were born to be destined,

Though target they be for Sniperscope.

The Fræd egg, the very last,

With the slam of a door and a sight of the past,

Is lost in the mist, no more to exist

But the Dragontwins are unsurpassed.

The stones in the ground shall tell the tale,

And show the way over hill or vale,

Blue they glow, and light will show

The deepest depth of hole or swale.

The Dragontwins are the only ones,

Who can save the Dragontíre when trouble comes.

Their destiny most certainly

Will save our daughters and our sons.”

Flicks furrowed her brow, “What’s it supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, it could be some kinda prophecy maybe,” Skilf said tapping her chin thoughtfully, then she snorted in amusement.

“What’s so funny?” Flicks asked, she couldn’t see anything humorous about the situation.

“Oh, it’s just that the last stanza reminded me of a crazy poem I wrote a while back,” Skilf said, smothering another burst of laughter.

“Ah…” Flicks said, turning her eyes back to the tapestry. “I wonder who Aldutch is. Maybe he’s the guy that’s got everyone so worried.”

“You could be right,” Skilf said, becoming serious once more. “Aldutch…you’ve never heard the name before?”

“No,” Flicks said, “I can’t say I have.”

There was silence for a second then suddenly Skilf said, “What’s Kendal’s first name?”

“I don’t know,” Flicks said, “Why do you ask? I don’t see how it’s got anything to do with this Aldutch guy…” she trailed off, realising exactly what Skilf was meaning. “Oh.”

“Oh indeed,” came a voice from behind her. Flicks whirled around and her heart sank to the soles of her feet as she saw Kendal standing there, a large smirk smeared across his face.

Kendal stepped forward, looking at the tapestry. “Very interesting really,” he said. “No doubt the stones in the ground are the very ones you buried, but what is this ‘Willow Wall’ and who are the Dragontwins, I’m not sure I like the sound of them.” He turned an evil smile on Flicks and Skilf, “Any possibility you could enlighten me?”

Skilf shrugged, affecting carelessness, “Not really.”

“So you say…” Kendal said, “I’m not sure if I should believe you. Besides, I have my own suspicions. When I think about it, what two people do I know that look like twins?” He left the question hanging in the thick, still air, looking at first Flicks then Skilf with a satisfied leer on his face.

Flicks chewed her lip thoughtfully, wondering vaguely what to do next. Inspiration failed to come, and the silence hung heavily in the room. Skilf opened her mouth to say something, but luckily she was forestalled from saying anything unwise by an ear-splitting crack and a yell from Kendal as something dropped out from under his jacket.

Kendal dived for the thing on the floor, missing it by inches as it flew up into the air with a green blur. Flicks stumbled backwards as the green blob flew at her, she ducked but the creature landed on her raised hand. Kendal lurched forward, grabbing at Flicks but she jumped backwards, evading his grasp.

Then the door was flung open and three guards entered, a short, bronze coloured Imp-Goblin at their heels. The three former occupants of the room froze, as did the new arrivals. Then the Imp-Goblin screeched and pointed a finger at Skilf, “That’s her! She’s the one who slammed the door in her majesty the Queen’s face! So impolite! Arrest her!”

The guards hesitated and looked at each other uncertainly. “Are you sure that’s what the Queen wants?” one said tentatively.

“Do you question the word of her loyal servant Larzik?” the Imp said furiously. “You cannot let such impoliteness pass!”

Flicks stood rooted to the spot, what in the world was going on? 

Larzik opened his mouth to say something again when his eye fell on the green creature on Flicks’ hand. His mouth moved soundlessly for several seconds and his eyes grew round. With rage or amazement Flicks couldn’t tell.

~

1. Then the Imp let out a deafening shriek, “It’s the thief! She’s got the dragon!”

2. Larzik stood thusly for a moment and then fainted, falling soundlessly to the white tiled floor.

3. “It has hatched,” Larzik murmured in an awestruck voice. “The Fræd Dragon has hatched.”

~

Thanks everyone for reading, and don't leave before you comment and vote for your favourite option!

Fare Thee Well!

~ Jane, Misty Maiden