For a heartbeat after Sir Grif shouted his command, the world seemed to hang, balanced on the edge of a blade.
Then everything moved at once.
The headman charged like a battering ram, boots pounding stone, and fury lending him speed that belied his age. Rage had twisted his face into something almost unrecognizable.
'It's all your fault!' he roared.
Well, yes. Technically, it really was.
But how had the man found out!?
The fire-talent user reacted on instinct, and in the next moment, part of the golden lattice around his head unraveled into blazing threads that snapped outward.
Yet another tired-looking woman waved a hand, and a few rocks flew off the ground and at Arin's head.
He gasped, then hurried to jump out of their reach, just barely managing to avoid contact.
As the rocks shattered against the ground with terrifying force, the other survivors scattered, each one backing away from Arin, as though distance alone could save them.
Arin didn't bother to run away from the square. He'd just heard that one of the seven gathered villagers had a speed-related talent, after all. Fighting back made no sense to do, either.
'Stop!' he yelled, raising one hand.
No one listened.
Sir Grif had almost reached him, his large arms already swinging, and the large snake around his neck raring up with the promise of pain.
'Damn it, damn it, damn it,' Arin hissed, running backwards. Stone scraped under his feet as he stumbled slightly.
Spotting a large, silvery form from the corner of his eye, he yelled, 'Do something, lazybones!'
As soon as the commotion had began, the dragon had leisurely staggered to it's feet. Now, hearing Arin's command, the silvery beast tensed it's wings by its sides, then huffed a breath of dense, hot air.
Really, really hot air.
Fire.
Yes, of course!
'Protect us!' he yelled, still running. 'Create a shield! A shield!'
The dragon craned it's neck, adjusted it's long, forked tongue, and obeyed.
It exhaled a wide, thin sheet of golden-red fire.
Burning brighter and far stronger than the fire-talent-villager's protective cage, the fire fanned out into a wide dome around all the people gathered within the village square. It also thoroughly incinerated a few of the flitting needleworms along the way.
The rest moved to continue lingering on the outside, maintaining some distance from the scalding air.
'What -!?' exclaimed one of the villagers.
Arin continued running, trying to stay out of sir Grif's reach. 'I am not here to hurt you - any of you! I'm here to save you!'
'Liar! Killer! Everyone! My Elara!' the hurtling man spat. 'You are ruining everything! You are ruining everything!'
He wasn't listening.
Arin stepped back, avoiding a blow.
Pain flared in his arm as he clipped the edge of a market stall, still within the dome of flames. He bent over from the pain, barely avoiding yet another volley of rocks, and a levitating boot.
'Why do you keep saying that, sir Grif!?' he yelled. Turning to look at the gathered villagers, he appealed, 'Believe me! I'm keeping the needleworms away! I am here to save you all!'
Both statements were technically true.
He just hoped the honesty would help his words seem more convincing.
And somehow, it kinda worked.
Thetwo villagers who had been attacking him paused in their assaults, sharing a confused glance. Some of the others, covering in the back, looked around at the fiery dome, slowly straightening up.
'We should... hear whathe has to say...?' one of them mumbled uncertainly.
And yet, sir Grif continued attacking Arin.
'Ruined it! You've ruined it all!' The raging man suddenly tore the snake off his face, and threw it at Arin. The snake uncoiled completely in mid-air, opening its mouth with long, sharp fangs.
Shit!
Arin ducked, even though he knew the snake would just arc down and attack him anyway. Just then, a large, silver head jerked into view from one side, and swallowed the snake whole.
'Lazybones!' Arin exclaimed.
The dragon licked its lips, tilting its head to one side.
Just then, a low, vicious-sounding chuckle emerged from before him, and Arin whipped his head back around to see a positively murderous, maddened look in sir Grif's reddened eyes.
The flickering light of the fire dome cast fearsome-looking shadows on the man's face. Then, he sighed deep and low, raised a hand, and -
A large,bronze-colored dragon, somewhat larger than the silvery one, hurtled in fromanother direction.
Arin could only watch, mouth agape, as it used its spiked head to push into his dragon's side, knocked it off its legs, and tossed it bodily, right into the the crowd of onlookers.