Free Dragon Ebook - The Conflicting Companionships |
Chapter 4
During his walk, he had discovered how creatures—even the disputatious ones—cooperated. Collaborating cooperatively was elementary; the challenge consisted of locking all minds together with the same purpose.
Currently, Laur gently closed the sub’s door, but it still aroused Jeff. Jeff looked up from his chair and saw an aghast Laur standing beneath the latch.
Jeff guffawed heartily from how foolish Laur looked standing there. This was controllable laughter, so Jeff stopped when Laur started to talk.
“What’s so funny?” Laur asked, obfuscated.
“You look so obtuse standing there. Come on. Sit down,” replied Jeff, without any intention to enrage Laur. Jeff patted the seat to his right with his hand twice, signalling Laur to sit down.
As Laur sat, Jeff waited for Laur to talk because he knew Laur would. Laur marshalled his thoughts before saying, “I’m sorry. It’s just the heat. It’s driving me nuts. I’m getting demented.”
“It’s all right. I know how it feels. But it really isn’t that bad. Take a deep breath and relax.”
They both took deep breaths, which soothed them. The stuffiness still lingered, but Laur’s and Jeff’s senses overlooked it. Their bodies burned, but their minds functioned normally. The heat behaved mercifully toward them as they ensconced and revelled indoors.
After a while, even their bodies cooled. In fact, the frigid iciness chilled them to the marrow, but Jeff was partial to the coldness it because of the sinister heat wave they had experienced. He got up, and with a handkerchief, wiped the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. Laur lazily stayed inert.
“Come on, let’s go to Len’s home. We might find some unexpected news. We have to hurry, though,” suggested Jeff.
Jeff and Laur scurried out of the sub and left their belongings as they were. The heat never bothered anything in the sub.
Jeff and Laur found the drags huddled together, but distributed unevenly, in the open space. Al had gathered over fifty civilians for this extravagant training project. Al had also summoned two hundred supernumeraries. Although they were extras, they nonetheless trained vigorously. In case the battle was prolonged, rotations would alleviate the regular troops. John and Zi prepared the drills. They had not majored in training, but had performed copious research beforehand, and currently, even formulated their own drills.
Jeff and Laur kept sedate as they travelled around and headed toward Len’s den. Due to their puny size, they could travel without interfering with anyone.
Len was an elder, but many drags ignored him when they passed by his den. Al occasionally visited, but Len was still the neglected bijou of Dragland. Len would never again relive his past glories, but his wisdom surpassed his physical power now. Furthermore, wisdom leaked into his power, so he would soon contain a plentiful supply of both. Yet, he currently remained the most potent drag. With a flicker of the tongue, he could stimulate anything to happen.
Len’s ominous room made Laur and Jeff malaise when they entered. Jeff knocked on the floor with his shoes because Len’s den lacked doors. Furthermore, Jeff wanted to indicate their arrival to Len. When Len called them to enter, his voice was fraught with vigour and spirit.
As they entered, they saw Len seated on a gargantuan chair. Beside him, two small chairs were reserved for Laur and Jeff. As if on cue, they sat down together like an object reflected in a mirror. Len passed messages into each of their heads. It was a new skill he had just acquired, so he wanted to share his joy.
Aloud, he extolled, “At least some people remember me. Did you hear what I said in your minds?”
“Yes,” jumped Laur. “You said, ‘This is a new skill I’ve just acquired, so I wanted to share my joy.’”
“That’s exactly what I said. You’re sure an adept learner. Jeff, did it work on you?”
“It didn’t have such a strong impact on me, but I felt a sensation.”
“Well put. Are there any viands that might suit you two?”
“No, thank you,” replied Jeff.
“I’ll explain the battle then,” said Len.
“Music to my ears,” Laur responded.
“This battle isn’t anything new. I’ve experienced one 20 thousand years ago. I’ll let this battle slip by. But when the time comes, I’ll reveal myself too,” announced Len oracularly. His words possessed wisdom. “I want to rest now, if you please.”
“Thank you for your advice,” Jeff said, and he and Laur left.
Entering Len’s den had made them numb and bewildered. They kept their mouths shut for a few minutes as they strode down the path. They soon reached Al’s private office. This place was the nucleus of the drags’ operations. Every machination had to be submitted to the office before any further action could be implemented. After the plans were accepted, they were sent to the archives. The workers from there would then be responsible for them.
The office was situated in an empty chamber. Zi sat at one side; John, the other. Al often shifted from Zi’s to John’s side, and vice versa.
Al managed the job, but had lost much sleep because of it. It often caused him to worry and to lie awake in bed. For someone as youthful as he, it indubitably burdened him heavily.
The battle would begin in a month or so, but Al worked busily everyday—gobbling up the time. He realized the importance for the drags to instigate the first attack because they could then see a clearer picture.
Zi and John were geniuses, but were vulnerable because their cerebral capacities would eventually drain themselves like batteries. When that occurred, the drags’ circumstance would become precarious. But for now, Zi and John still laboured incessantly.
Laur and Jeff remained unnoticed until Al decried them. Al immediately introduced them to Zi and John, and they promptly got acquainted with each other by mingling.
Laur and Jeff then aided Al too. They lacked coordination and deftness to the controls at first, but soon familiarized themselves with the functions. Laur even dared to direct some of the plans.
Their contribution was profound ascribed to their small, dexterous hands, which enabled them to more fluently perform repetitious chores. Hence, with Jeff and Laur’s assistance, the rate of work completed became many times more effectual.
Some members of the defence and offence consequently sat idle to allow Laur and Jeff to alleviate their workload. The regular workers were simply fatigued from the continuous, arduous ploughing, but once Al caught them remiss, he barked at them so that they instantly arose to labour. Al could not afford to lose anyone’s help in this battle, though he had already dismissed some malingerers. They were a pertinent element of the drags’ team, but he would have to persist without them.
At the present, Al deduced he could win because of his high self-esteem. The victory would delight him, but even if he did win, he would still need to overcome many other obstacles. If he tried to foresee too far ahead, however, it would evoke turmoil. The lack of compromise in life deluded him. He would be obliged to lay down the cards one by one and to have few expectations.
Al was in total command of his troops in every department. They obeyed him as if he were a deity. Yet, he felt comforted to have sage, fidel adherents, such as Jel, Mor, and Gish, for a revolt could always erupt.
Nevertheless, Al did not comprehend why the drags contested the wicks, and vice versa. Both sides had the spurious impression that they fought on the side of justice; neither realized they both had correct and erroneous concepts.
As each day lingered, the battle emerged as the main topic of conversation. Even civilians were enthusiastic.
During this period, Clor engaged in an experiment. Due to his curious demeanour, he often conducted trials he organized himself. His motto that “experiments are the foundations of learning” portrayed his dedication to science.
He experimented with three baby drags by confining them in a transparent room. He noticed two of the drags constantly stayed together, while one always remained alone. This thus proved the Theory of Specific Relations, where some creatures are favoured over others, and where some creatures prize a few particular creatures more than others.
This momentous discovery emphasized that some of the troops were estranged from the rest, which would ultimately result in chaos. A solution to the problem must exist, so Clor attempted to resolve the problem. Clor’s wife supported his efforts by assisting him whenever he was indecisive.
Clor monitored the troops and tried to ascertain who stood apart from or quarrelled with others. It was an irk-some task., but Clor’s meticulousness made him well-suited to the job.
The troops were situated in barracks and exercised often.
Since they had little liberal time, it propagated the difficulty f or Clor to identify the ugly ducklings.
At first, Clor stalked behind rocks for minutes each time. He was ravenous for progress. The operation failed, though, so and he aborted it, but learned that ugly ducklings might, at times, be absent. Perhaps their unified stance in striving to eject the wicks left them no time to socialize with each other or to ignore eccentrics.
Clor decided to take a rest, so he paid a visit to his old confidant, Gish. He took over Clor’s normal duties because of Clor’s experiment. Clor trusted Gish because of his consistent, serious work ethic.
Outside Len’s home, Clor found Gish, who preoccupied himself by outstandingly imitating a sentry. Gish had, of course, served as one last year. Ten eager drags listened intently to Gish as he demonstrated.
Clor sneaked behind a rock, as he had insidiously done during his experimenting, and crouched down. He peeked up from behind the basalt and smiled deviously. His eyebrows wiggled up and down, like restless serpents. He finally opened his alligator jaws and snapped, “Hello, Gish!!!” Gish dispassionately turned around and faced Clor, who wore an innocent smile belonging to an angel.
“I’m a drag of peace, Clor,” Gish promulgated rationally. “I don’t have emotional or nervous breakdowns. You have to get up pretty early to pull one on me.”
“Well, I see you have a class here. I think I’ll be going. I’ll check things out at the main office.” Clor thus scrambled into Len’s home and travelled to the main office to report.
First, he reported his observations to Zi. Afterwards, Zi again assigned him to the training department. Clor’s observations would be assayed thoroughly because they might prove serviceable during the battle.
The humid climate evoked irritation in almost everyone. It likewise left everyone parched. This portion of the country generally kept its humidity, but this was unreasonable. Nevertheless, no one discussed it.
Beside Len’s home, Jel directed the establishment of other stations that would contain reinforcements during the war. With the blueprints found, some drags modified them so that Dragland was also entirely fortified. Al’s troops anticipated to skirmish outside the borders of Dragland. Meanwhile, other drags stationed stages of bulwark at all other levels in Dragland. Consequently, this resembled a miniature military. Al not only wanted to defensively consolidate his forces, but also intended to offensively threaten the wicks in order to drive them out of their own territory.
The battle loomed inevitably as non-stop din erupted throughout Dragland. The cacophony accrued. Each day, greater amounts of it were released so that the overall noise was amplified. The fragile atmosphere could espouse it, though.
Most drags economised victuals, lest a food shortage occurred. Gish exercised special care in ensuring the safe storage of troops’ nourishment. Most drags, however, did not hoard because Dragland had never confronted famine, for drags cultivated their own artificial crops and harvested them daily.
Barely anyone except Len approached reality. He knew if famine occurred, mass extinction of drags would inevitably ensue—a brief and deplorable denouement. Len was also aware the drags would be compelled to take a risk in combating aggressively and offensively because if the wicks won, their peculiar behaviour might cause them to annihilate everything, even whole kingdoms.
Al, meanwhile, faced arithmetic problems. His confounded thoughts tried to figure out land ownership of all drags in Dragland. He had initiated the management of this task, but now realized the fatuousness of his conception. He distrusted Zi with it, but he would now have to delegate it to him; he would abhor to continue dealing with these tenacious complications.
Content with his novel chore, Zi often mentioned it. Yet, he disliked Al’s style of governing. Al offered no guidance to simplify his job. For example, a meeting was supposed to occur in one week, and Zi was supposed to notify everyone to attend it. That posed an infeasible challenge to Zi.
Al had acted harshly toward Zi, but had asseverated it was for Dragland’s sake that Zi performed this duty. This was the only conference Al would convoke, so he insisted that it be as formal as a concert. In fact, Al desired the parley to be in order several days before it took place, so he hired an extra work force comprised of a hundred deft drags to help him.
Merely an infinitesimal proportion of the drags were denizens of Dragland. Perhaps another trillion inhabited outside its borders. In fact, all of Len’s children who had moved out of his home lived outside Dragland, so coming to the assembly or even contacting Len, would cause difficulty. If an emergency occurred, their remoteness from Len’s home would prevent them from reaching Dragland in due time. Consequently, Len hoped for the best.
Many drags carried on abundant trading and business during the week prior to the meeting. After hearing about the meeting, they had started to hoard diverse commodities because they sensed the impending presence of war.
Meanwhile, Al and his captains, including Zi and John, regrouped. They held their own caucus in the main office. No one was permitted to enter unless the matter was of monumental importance.
Al commenced by broaching the main agendas. The gathering progressed smoothly from that point forth. Even the succinct, candid controversies ironically invoked a feeling of mutual kindness.
“This isn’t a play-war. This is for real. We must view it that way,” said Clor.
“Yes,
I agree,” Mor affirmed. “We’ve
been considering true points. Our
plans, however, might be vitiated if events happen differently from what we've
expected, and we’ll be utterly demolished.”
John then spoke. “Now, I oppose to that. Well, I partly oppose to it. What if this battle does unfold to be a play-war? Suppose that. We should contemplate both sides before determining what course of action to take. That, I believe, is more logical than other suggestions.”
“Well put, John. Now let’s continue. I bet the wicks have drastically changed since you last met them, Clor. Although we formerly drove them out, I cannot assure you of the same outcome this time. A new generation will have emerged. We must be fully prepared,” warned Al.
“There comes a point when we can’t go any further,” proclaimed Jel. “We’ve reached this stage. An imperfect plan will sometimes have to suffice. Room for vast improvement exists, of course, but it’s time to stop.”
“We can’t renounce now. We aren’t dictated by timers. We must continually strive for excellence,” Gish contended.
“Yes, there’s a time to quit,” Zi added. “But now is not it. Two days from now is the best.”
“Hmm. We’ve unequivocally expanded each other’s perceptions, haven’t we? Now, let’s brainstorm,” said Al.
The meeting continued in much the same manner. For 12 hours, the 7 descanted. Each drag rotated in having the floor, but Al, also assuming the role of chairperson, ended up having the most to express. They settled nothing, but jotted down notes. Moreover, the meeting imbued them with new insights and banished many of their inarticulate notions.
The private meeting solved no problems, but one additional problem arose during the following week: confluences jammed into Len’s home to attend the major assembly. The majority of them, however, stayed outside attributed to the lack of space. Only Clor’s maintenance order averted a riot.
Jeff and Laur dissolved into the crowd. They had awoken tardy, or else they currently would have reached the main office. They inched towards it, but could not budge past any drags even with their diminutive proportions. Most drags, however, were unaware of their presence because of their tininess.
At last, they ceded when the drags completely blocked them, as they encompassed them in all directions. The drags’ scales skinned their faces and squashed their noses—blinding them—but at least Laur and Jeff accompanied one another.
By chance, an acute, observant drag freely swished around his pate. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed some misplaced entities. He gazed down and beheld two minuscule, squished creatures below him. Rumours had maintained that creatures called humes had arrived, but he had merely regarded it with incredulity. The scattered pieces of the Jigsaw puzzle, however, now fit into place.
He ducked down and confidently scooped up Laur with one paw and Jeff with the other. He pitied their minuteness, which also provoked in him a feeling of superiority. Laur and Jeff sat so helplessly. Since they had cuddled up themselves into balls, the drag was tempted to toss them around, but knew the consequences. Since this was the phenomenal Len’s property, Len would rebuke and chastise him if he injured the two humes.
He stared at both humes and whispered over the noise of the crowd “Hi.”
Jeff peered over his left shoulder. Everything seemed conventional, so he arose. When he did, though, he regretted it, as he realized how distant he towered from the ground; he feared heights. Instinctively, he shuddered back and crouched down, secreting his face.
Laur’s trepidation of heights was less than Jeff’s, but, believing he might fall, he still cowered back. Thus, neither Laur nor Jeff replied to the drag, so the drag tried again.
“It’s all right. I’ll be your friend. My name’s Grangawold. Call me Grang for short. What are your names?”
Timidly, Laur and Jeff answered. They had adjusted to the height, so they sat down. They felt lighter up here compared to the crowded floor.
Jeff studied the faces of some drags and found they each had slightly dissimilar lineaments: actually, many variations existed. Lacking bulging eyes and long jaws, Grang’s face was ordinary.
Laur and Jeff conversed perfunctorily with Grang. Grang also talked about himself. They learned that Grang had joined the troops and had become a personal favourite of Jel. He was around 30 thousand years old, but had forgotten the battle of yore between the wicks and drags because he was so young when it had occurred. He appreciated solitude, so he had vowed to remain a bachelor.
He warbled about his life for one hour, but Jeff had patience to listen. On the other hand, the information entered Laur’s left ear and egressed from his right. He was too preoccupied daydreaming.
Yet another hour lingered until noon, when the convention would officially begin. The drags (and humes) who had arrived an hour ago were among the premier gatherers, but no news had yet leaked out.
Since the moment Grang met Jeff and Laur, he had situated himself at the same spot—not moving a muscle. By now, he was as stiff as a totem pole.
He was nervous about the tryst because it would affect the residue of his life. He knew the drags’ actions in the upcoming weeks would determine the continued flourishing or the debacle of their civilization. He had never been confronted with such exacting problems, but he, along with many other drags, would now share the onus of handling them.
As the minutes ticked away, the crowd grew more boisterous. The atmosphere became stifling. Everyone felt it. Soon, though, everyone was content with their position and gaily babbled to the drag beside themselves so that their worries would momentarily pass into oblivion. In Grang’s case, he continued to colloquize with Laur and Jeff. The crowd awaited a hush that would pacify everyone.
Al and his captains finally appeared. He persuaded the drags in Len’s home to dissolve outside, for the majority of the audience had stationed themselves there. Thus, that left Len in his grotto to accomplish whatever he pleased.
While shuffling their body, the drags waited for Al to address them. Some could not hear due to the distance, but certain drags, like telephone wires, passed on the information.
Finally, Al stipulated, “Fellow drags, quiet, please. I’d like you all to pay attention. This is no waggish business, and those who think it is, I want you to leave immediately and cross the river. Don’t return either. Now, would you please welcome John.”
John flew up, while Al bashfully seceded behind him. This brief hiatus gave the crowd an opportunity to transmit information to the drags farthest behind.
John cleared his throat and started. “I’d like to discuss the import of this battle. We drags have established a tradition of fighting hard, but we must remember the veterans. Len remains in his home at this instant, but I know he knows every action we take. Therefore, it’s pivotal we have a backup like Len.”
This tense monologue persisted for 12 hours. Each of the 7 executives spoke, with Al introducing each drag; whenever he did that, messages were passed.
The assembly satisfied the horde. It left them with issues to muse. Laur, Jeff, and Grang could not fathom some of the jargon adopted, but besides that, they felt resuscitated.
Jeff wished to keep in touch with Grang, so he and Laur followed him. Their amity would have to temporarily cease because in two days, the troops would need to assemble.
Al laboured thrice as busily as before during the proceeding two days. For instance, the countless documents he had to sign occupied one day.
For the rest of Dragland, time lingered. No one mentioned the battle because it was so unfeigned now. It would not just last one minute—it might persist for years, even centuries.
John, on the contrary, reposed. He recognized that working and sleeping complemented each other. The present was the time to sleep. Plethoric pressure had been encumbered upon him, so it would pose a challenge for him to cope with all of it without sufficient rest. He could catch up to the rest of the world later, but at this moment, his work was immaterial to him.
The next two days elapsed quickly. Jel, Mor, Gish, and Clor led the troops’ procession. The steady cadence of their marching, except for an occasional halt, reverberated throughout Dragland. Some drags heard murmurs as the troops passed by, but the tumult decreased as they filed out of Dragland.
Battalions of drags fortified their homes with stones and rocks, which radically altered the guise of the land. Civilians had desolated the outdoors, and most shopkeepers had closed their businesses. Even many of the civic services, like the archives, were defunct.
Two days afterwards, all four captains reached their destinations. The modicum of communication among the captains forced each one to decide whether or not to march the troops beyond the borders of Dragland. The skies loomed ominously beyond the city, so only Gish gambled and drove his squadron farther.
The wicks’ regiment likewise advanced daily. They hoped to stupefy the drags when they arrived at Dragland, but the drags were prepared.
The wicks’ gruesome blood lingered in the air. It bonded to some of the air molecules, so a fetid effluvium circulated.
On the third day the drags had remained on guard, war broke out. The wanton friction between the two races had finally resulted in a spark.
The wicks physically appeared as they had in the past—analogous to the shape of the letter “Y.” Foreigners regarded them as a yellow glob of mess sealed tightly with plastic so that each of their images were singular, but their contour retained the same basic shape. Wicks were as humungous as drags, but did not comprise of a solid formation. Instead, they resembled jelly—constantly billowing—but were not exactly a liquid either.
The wicks’ extraordinary characteristic was their ability to make incantations—to an extent. Their spells were less treacherous than their character, though. Their spells allowed them to construct certain solid objects. In addition, unprecedented incantations were composed for each wick everyday.
They could not soar like the drags, but one of their incantations could construct a device utilized for flying. The device floated in the air, and the wicks merely had to sit on it. Untowardly, it lasted only for a short duration. For example, when the rider exerted exorbitant pressure on it, it would burst into dregs that would disperse.
The wicks attacked from various sites. Their attacks, abrupt and discreet, often appalled the drags, but the drags defended militantly. Nevertheless, the wicks hoped to ultimately find an infirmity in the drags’ fighting.
Ten groups of wicks, each containing forty soldiers, had advanced. Only two hundred of them, however, actually fought. The other five groups, who had fabricated a camp outside Dragland, acted as reinforcements. If the wicks had any injuries, the camp would also serve as an infirmary.
Injuries posed the major concern to both sides. Yet, Len and Aaron, the leader of the wicks, were opportune because they participated indirectly in the battles, which meant they would not receive even an incision.
The converse situation was true for the troops and armies. Few demises were reported, but many suffered from minor injuries. The drags’ most cruel weapon was their fire power, but the ones who lacked the finesse to shoot fire, slashed their tails around. The wicks’ most powerful threat was, of course, their incantations. None of these weapons benefited either side, though; the more injuries that resulted, the more fighting that occurred. No one could surcease the battle.
Clor, Jel, Mor, and Gish headed the major battles, but they were all handicapped within the first five days. Clor’s right arm was gauged, while Jel’s left one was; Mor’s right leg was excised, while Gish’s left one was. Their conditions proved mournful for them because their fame was becoming more prestigious due to their rigorous work ethic. Still, they were lucky just to have survived.
Since they could not lead anymore, they recovered in the drags’ infirmary, where nurses treated them with extreme care. No one led the drags now, so they just guided themselves. By this time, over half of the drags’ troops had been abolished. Thus, the plight forced Al to immediately recruit more drags for tutelage.
The captains of the wicks were also injured, so the wicks soon became disorganized. Once a wick was injured, liquid leaked from the plastic; if he ignored the wound, it would exacerbate. A multiplicity of wicks, therefore, died from not instantly mending their mayhem.
Laur and Jeff observed the battles as they progressed. It induced their melancholy, which, in turn, procured them to lose their geniality. On the sixth day of the battle, they decided to speak with Len. He was usually the one whom they consulted if they encountered problems.
When they reached Len’s home, Len instructed them to speak directly to Al. Thus, they heeded his advice and headed to the main office.
John doodled in there when they arrived, but affably greeted them. After John had pointed them to Al, Laur and Jeff travelled over to him.
“Hello,” said Al sanguinely. “What’s the problem?”
“Uh, we wanted to talk about the battle? We wondered if you’re free to discuss it,” replied Jeff.
“Sure, why not?”
“We feel that this should stop. I mean, how long will this last? There should be peace. I know it won’t be easy, but please try,” said Laur.
Al frowned. His physiognomy delineated weariness and concern. “Yes, I believe we should.” He motioned them toward Zi, who also doodled. When Zi heard footsteps, he looked up.
“I know it’s kind of sudden to ask you so abruptly now, but could you please represent me?” Al asked.
“To do what?” questioned Zi.
“To go over to the wicks’ camp and to request for peace. Will you?”
“Anything you say, Chief. I’ll immediately set off for their camp.”
“Thanks a lot. I’m grateful for your help. Meet me here tomorrow after you complete your mission. Do you know what to say?”
“Yes. Farewell! Bye, Laur and Jeff!”
“See you,” responded Laur and Jeff in unison.
After Zi had left, Al mischievously asked, “Satisfied?”
Laur smiled. “We are indeed, but what if your representative fails? Then what are you going to do?”
Al patted Laur’s pate, and then resumed with his own business. Jeff had to drag Laur out of the main office, as Laur and he were due at their own sub to work.
The following day, both the drags and the wicks awoke hearing rapturous news. Zi and a wick official had settled an agreement to end the battles. Zi’s witty tongue had assisted tremendously in persuading the wicks to renounce fighting.
A cessation to the melee would benefit both sides, since combating would have compounded the difficulty in solving disputes. In a way, both sides had triumphed because they had both discovered each other’s most detrimental military threats.
Laur and Jeff visited the infirmary to witness how recuperations progressed. They momentarily reunited with Grang in there. Grang was in a disastrous condition—in worse shape than the disabled generals. His right leg and arm, and his left legs were severed. Besides these problems, a surgeon would eventually amputate his left arm. Viewing this, the two companions sobbed silently, clutching desperately to each other’s compassion.
The battles had undoubtedly gone malignant. Grang’s conduct now was queer and inane. Some maintain that “time will heal all wounds,” but Jeff was skeptical. It was unfair for Grang to suffer like this. It would probably be better if I were in this condition, thought Jeff.
Laur and Jeff left the infirmary feeling glum, but their emotions changed quickly. They were about to re-enter their sub when a species they had never before beheld materialized. “It” was as colossal as a drag, but upon close examination, it resembled a wick.
The wick sat on a floating device. Suddenly, he asked, “May I please see Len?”
“Help!” cried Laur.
“It’s all right. The guards in the front had let me in.”
Laur erratically flew away, with Jeff trailing. As Laur streaked into Len’s chamber, he bumped into Len and fell on his rear. Laur had so busily focused himself on peering behind that it had distracted him from looking ahead. Jeff, more alert of his whereabouts, stopped beside Laur. A few seconds later, the wick appeared.
Len was about to unwittingly kick Laur, but Laur scooted away from his path in time. What Len saw intrigued him. His retinas projected and focused on the image of an injured wick. He had just jovially played with Ju, and in popped a mutilated enemy. This winsome surprise enriched his blitheness.
The wick was indeed maimed. Yellow liquid had decanted out of him, leaving stains on the ground. The wick advanced slowly to meet Len’s devilish cackle.
“Please, help me,” the wick entreated.
“Can’t your incantations cure you?” asked Len suspiciously.
“Please, you won’t regret it.”
Len felt that patronizing the wick would prove risqué, but his benevolent, forgiving nature impelled him to condone the wicks once more. Thus, Len sighed and gave the floating device a push so that it carried the wick into the infirmary.
Two days later, the wick, having recovered eighty percent, went to talk to Len. The wick found Len meditating, so he waited until Len opened his eyes. “Hi! My name’s Aaron. I’ve actually come to seek the help of your consanguinity. I’m the leader of the wicks and the most powerful wick. I believe you’re the most powerful drag and former leader. I don’t even know why we invaded your land in the first place. We had wanted to befriend you. Please condone us for all the trouble we’ve caused.”
“Now, getting on with my story. I was injured by flames. I don’t know how, but I think they’ve come alive. You must have noticed. It’s getting hotter every day.”
“Yes, it has. You’ve noticed too? It’s been conspicuous—especially here. It’s already hot enough to start with, but the temperature has increased even more in the last few months. I thought about it too, but couldn’t determine why it’s become hotter. Now, could you introduce me to a bit of the wicks’ history?”
“Wicks are especially proud of their names. Each wick possesses two names—one for each of the two phases of his life. My name for the first part of my life was Georgen; for now, it’s Aaron. I just entered the second phase of my life yesterday—the same day I was injured.”
“Our status corresponds with the alphabetical order of our names. Wicks with names beginning with the letter “A” assume the leading positions. This system is feasible because one can explicitly identify the leader. My name begins with a double “A,” so I’m the governor of the leaders. Our previous governor, named Archibald, just died yesterday. Even if he hadn’t died, I could still have become leader because my name is more powerful than his. In fact, in wicks’ chronicles, I’m the most powerful wick. This will be one of our best epochs.”
“You, the most powerful, have been wounded, and you say it’ll be fertile? That makes no sense.”
“No, I suppose it doesn’t. But if someone else had led, they probably would have died, and maybe the whole wick civilization would have perished.”
“I see.”
The two further exchanged their numerous dilemmas, clinging onto every iota of detail. They would, however, always end up discussing the present problem concerning every creature in and out of Dragland—the heat wave. The astounding number of casualties indicated the internecine nature of the conflict between the two civilizations. Thus, they needed extrinsic assistance in order to surmount their thermal obstacle.
The two leaders reached consensus on one topic, though. They decided to probe the escape route in Len’s home. It was convenient for them to reach it because its entrance was located in Len’s den. It could miraculously lodge five billion creatures because the tunnel spanned several miles from Len’s home.
Of the ten wuiums whom Jen had seen two months earlier, five remained alive. They, too, would soon become extinct if no one executed any action, so Len persuaded them to have children. They needed five adults to reproduce one offspring, so the circumstances were perfect. Hence, in days, the process was completed. The wuiums, would take care of the drags if they faced a crisis.
The wuiums appeared invisible to the drags due to their minuteness. They knew where the wuiums hid, though, because the wuiums—cohered to the air—were stationary. Drags simply needed to memorize the coordinates of their location.
After Len and Aar had thoroughly explored and had ensured its security, the drags in Dragland and, presumably, all the wicks would stay there. Its isolation from heat rendered it safe.
In the interim, drags reopened virtually all the shops and offices, including the archives. Al appointed Zi and John as supervisors, Len’s former post. Al closed the main office, though, so that he could return to pedestrian tasks. Len once again ebulliently reigned his realm.
Len dedicated most of his time resting and listening to Aar. They also decided to further develop their powers, so they taught each other their tricks. It was didactic also because it endowed them with a better understanding of another culture. Although they had some disputes, they became close companions. Within one week, they had both doubled their power.
Yet, both leaders worked under stress due to the heat. One week later, they had to compel wicks and drags to house in the escape route even though its condition was deplorable. By the end of the same week, nearly every creature was in there. Once again, all businesses closed. Doctors relocated the infirmary downstairs. Even Laur and Jeff transferred their sub down there. Len, however, continued to dwell in his den because he was so accustomed to it.
By moving into the escape route, most creatures’ agitation diminished due to the coolness inside. It resembled residing in a freezer within the sub. The wuiums took charge because they were conversant with the place.
Everyone in the escape route except Grang recovered well, as his memory degenerated daily. Just looking at him was enough to make anyone sob. No one except a few, however, dared to tread near him. The heartlessness of the rest was ascribed to unjustifiably thinking Grang had leprosy.
Len obviated some of the confusion by making a speech in the escape route. He enacted two rules: First, one must stay within the specified area unless a leave was consented by him or Aar; second, one had to maintain a debonair attitude toward others. Len discovered, though, that some found it onerous abiding by the second policy.
Enmity still pervaded in the escape route among the wicks and drags, since they had fought each other. In order to preclude any clashes, therefore, they generally disregarded each other’s presence.
Laur and Jeff’s weapon-manufacturing had resulted into a fiasco, so they had yielded immediately after the feud. Not only did they lose money (They had expected that.); they were actually inept in making weapons. They did not specialize in repairing—they worked as scientists.
In the distance, Len discerned flames creeping up on them, prowling as deliberately and sneakily as cats in the night when the drags did not pay attention. He needed to portend his future obligations, so he talked to Zi.
Following the unimpeachable attitude set by Len, Zi had performed an impeccable job of record-keeping. When Len asked him what he prophesied, he felt honoured to be asked. Yet, he was speechless because he could not envision anything.
Len was unsurprised because he and Aar did not presage anything either. However, he intimated to Zi that the records should be moved downstairs too. Even if the drags were to become extinct, written evidence would adduce drags had once existed.
Laur and Jeff also kept a diary each. They were obligated to document diurnal incidents, but had omitted some days because they were, at times, too preoccupied. Len had later bestowed them with a facsimile of all the drags’ written records to date in order to facilitate their job.
The first copy they received contained ample, concise information, which miraculously fit into ten bottles. After the first edition, Laur and Jeff received the new information everyday owing to the drags’ relentless writings. It seemed as if they had subscribed to a newspaper. They were able to accommodate such a deluge of records into their sub because they owned a magical, elastic container that could hold anything.
Len and Aar spent most of their time resting, pondering, and meditating. Their self-didactic methods were finished, so they continued with other enterprises, such as dealing with the formidable flames.
The fire drags released was homologous to the substance of which the flames were composed; it had just developed differently. The flames consisted of blazes that diffused. They could accumulate fervent heat because they clustered themselves together at the core of the planet. The flames were inanimate in the past, but now they had come alive. Even before they had come to life, they had boiled and suffocated a hume, which had subsequently sparked them to life.
Creatures did not know if flames were moral or diabolical, but they assumed flames were depraved. Havoc was their first name; Devastation, their last. No one fomented havoc as they did, but they were now preparing for more ambitious undertakings. The heat wave flames caused was only one of the flagrant activities they evoked. They also intended to annihilate entire civilizations—with the drags included on their list.
Len, of course, knew this. He was just holding himself in abeyance, as without Jen, he was unsure of what action to perform. Thus, he scouted Dragland in search of her. Down to the bottomless depths and up to the highest altitudes he explored, everlastingly aided by his magnificent, sinewy wings.
He finally saw Jen accompanied by Still and Cri. Over the years, the two females had remained unchanged. They had mated, but had left their mates and scions at home.
Despite her name, Cri rarely cried. When Jen named her, Jen thought she would wail often, but that turned out to be wrong.
Len acted sportive—he hoped to scare the three by saying “boo.” He sneaked behind them, but was frustrated at the last instant.
“Father! How pleasant to see you! I’ve had a lot of memorable years since leaving, so we must talk as soon as you have time,” said Still.
“Thank you. I’ve become the leader of Dragland. It’s taken me only some work, though. I think I have the panache to lead better in the future too,” boasted Len.
Jen and Len engaged in a lively conversation for the next hour. Jen talked about her many adventures, including the one about her jewel. She had luckily found it, so she now possessed it. Excluding herself, she valued it the most. The pulchritude of Jen’s gem enticed Len to scrutinize it.
Jen, Len, Cri, and Still then flew home side by side, with no one trailing and no one ahead. Jen cherished this sublime moment because she prophesied her days would soon terminate. This might be the last chance the four of them would be together. In addition, she had heard about the flames’ efficacy, so she feared for the others as well.
When the four reached Len’s home, Len and Jen introduced Still and Cri to Al, Laur, and Jeff. Still and Cri had left home before Jen bore Al, so they did not know each other. Al, Laur, and Jeff led the guests into the escape route. Still and Cri serenely investigated the formerly-recondite construction. They wondered why it was not esoteric anymore. The five just flew around the escape route, peering their nosy jaws around corners.
The tunnel’s decrepit condition actuated Jen, Still, and Cri to immediately engage in massive renovation of the tunnel. Since Still and Cri had helped design it, and since they had photographic memories, they directed workers to refurbish it so superbly that it appeared brand new. In addition, they arrayed the place with some voluptuous decorations.
In their spare time later, Len and Jen had a casual chat in Len’s den. Jen had been abroad for so long that her comportment had altered, but expedient changes had occurred within her. This tour, however, would probably be the last of her rife itineraries outside Dragland.
Jen had had difficulty locating her daughters at the inception, so she had questioned judicious creatures such as the bush wuiums, who had indicated that most drags had migrated west. Only after Jen had found her gem, however, was she able to locate Still and Cri, which turned into an poignant reunion, Jen recalled.
Len supplemented Jen with the minutiae of the past few months. They devoted one hour verbally unleashing their troubles. Hearing that the wicks had already attacked especially startled her.
After a prolix duration of exchanging news, the two waxed ennuye, so Len introduced Aar to Jen. Len had granted Aar a guest room—the one Bern had used. Jen was flustered about meeting a wick face to face, as her physique trembled upon encountering Aar. However, she survived.
Later, Len acted as a real estate agent and completely evinced the escape route to Jen. The most displeasing and horrendous sight was the infirmary. Clor’s missing right arm especially bothered Jen because they had been close friends, with Clor being a comrade of Len; they had been close to Jel, Mor, and Gish too, though not as close as Clor was. Thus, Jen sympathized Clor the most.
Len, Jen, Aar, Al, Still, Cri, Laur, and Jeff met at the border of the basement infirmary to discuss upcoming strategies. When Zi and John converged upon the bevy, they participated too. Their sole hope was that Bern and the Six, who possessed immense efficacy to accomplish all sorts of jobs, could discomfit the flames.
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