Conscious, Conscientious

The girl’s glare rested on Lammy for an uncomfortably long moment. Her similarity to Zayza baffled him: she truly was a younger, blonde version of his friend. But her hard stare wasn’t nearly as welcoming.

A guard raised an ornamental umbrella over her as the misty rain picked up.

“Layla…don’t do this,” Zayza pleaded from within Najinzu’s clutch. Her fear was outward: her concern focused more on this girl than her own impending peril. “You have to believe me.”

But when Layla’s eyes jumped to Zayza, they remained just as cold. She stayed wordless. A painfully silent moment passed, and she offered nothing more than a hardhearted frown.

“Layla…?” Lammy repeated quietly.

“This is my younger sister,” Zayza responded in contrast to his muted tone, instead speaking clearly for Layla to hear. But heartbreak shook her voice. “She’s…my only family left.”

Clearly unmoved, Layla turned back to the people of Azvaylen far below.

“Behold: as I swore to you, I’ve captured Princess Zayza as well as those who took part in her escape,” she declared.

The citizens exploded into cheers, and it took another blast of the horn to hush them.

“Princess Zayza is charged with the murder of King Zed, Queen Violet, and successor Queen Vayva, as well as treason. With my authority, I add this charge of treason to Raznizu Duriz. Finally, this boy…”

She pointed a hand back towards Lammy.

“…was quintessential in Zayza’s evasion of arrest,” Layla revealed.

Her next words came without a single hesitation, or even a blink:

“I condemn all three of them to death, by public execution.”

~~~

Gibblezgorv, Horblezgorz, Fabinwaf, and Dylan cut through the air, ascending higher and higher into the sky.

Deon watched the ground gradually appear more like a painting than reality as they distanced themselves from it. Gibblezgorv had never flown this high up before.

Then the ground vanished underneath a sheet of clouds, so Deon turned his attention upward. The daylight was darkening now somehow, and stars grew more visible. Some of the glowing orbs in the air—other Fantasy Country realities—were getting larger by the second.

Again, he found himself grateful for Gibblezgorv’s wind-blocking magic. He didn’t want to picture falling from this high up. But the inertia was still powerful, so he grasped Skrili’s waist tightly.

“I need to breathe,” she said plainly.

“My bad,” said Deon, loosening up a bit.

“It’s all right…you’re stressed.” Her voice softened. “Me too.”

Deon faked a lighthearted laugh. “Oh, me? It’s all good, I’m not really…that…” he trailed off. With each word, a greater fear sunk in. “Hey…do you think Lammy is…still…”

“He has to be,” Skrili said immediately. “That vision was just a warning, not a prophecy. It…it needs to be. I can’t let that happen…not again…”

“No, you’re right,” Deon assured. “He’s alive. I know it.”

He ended up holding on tighter to her anyway when Gibblezgorv, along with the other dragons, abruptly cut even steeper into the air. He could feel Skrili’s increasing heartbeat, and it was just as fast as his own.

As long as she was there, he knew they could do this.

Horblezgorz and Fabinwaf reached Gibblezgorv’s displacement, soaring on either side with Dylan not far behind. Deon looked out to them. Atop Fabinwaf’s wide saddle, Phillip sat with small, indecipherable dark images floating around him.

Illusion practice, Deon recognized. He’s preparing himself.

On Horblezgorz, Kotono hugged Hiroko from behind even tighter than Deon was clutching onto Skrili. While Hiroko looked on coolly, a reddish hue once again surrounded Kotono. She rested her head on Hiroko’s back, and the energy faded. Then, her even redder eyes caught Deon’s.

“Oh, I never finished answering your question, did I?” came Kotono’s voice in Deon’s head.

“WHOA!” he exclaimed, causing Skrili to jump. “What the—why can I hear Kotono?”

Gibblezgorv eased his puzzlement. “We dragons provide communication magic so our passengers can speak, my lad,” he explained. “Simply think in her direction!”

“Oh…” Deon sighed. He looked back over to Kotono’s now apologetic face.

“I—I’m sorry to startle you!” she said quickly. “But…you wanted to know about my powers…about how I control them.”

He’d nearly forgotten after Gibblezgorv and friends arrived, but his curiosity immediately returned. With all of their similarities, perhaps an understanding of her powers could help him take better control of his own.

Considering what they were walking—or flying—into, he couldn’t risk letting his anger take over. And maybe, if it came down to it, he could even harness it to their benefit.

“Right,” he thought, hoping Kotono heard him.

“Well…I can’t really control them at all, to be honest,” she admitted, averting her gaze shyly. “Not on my own, at least. I’m sure you noticed that in the championship…”

“Yeah…that was wild,” Deon recalled. The sheer pressure of expectation from the thousands of onlookers and, as Skrili had deciphered, her very fear of fighting, had transformed her into a storm of pure destruction—the most power he’d ever seen. Skrili nearly died attempting to calm her down.

“I’ve met with all the best Emovert pros before me and all the top consciousness experts—I’ve lost count,” she said. “But none of them figured it out. They all say I’m too afraid and anxious, and that makes my powers get out of control.” She shrugged. “But that’s what makes me so hard to beat, I guess. So management’s fine with it.”

Sadly, Deon found that easy to believe. Contrary to Hiroko, whose Predictor powers merely helped her make fighting decisions, Kotono’s Emovert seemed to do all the fighting for her in the championship. Hiroko had to strengthen her body, mind, and techniques to achieve the level she was at.

But Kotono was petite, even fragile; she probably couldn’t even manage a fraction of her teammate’s athletic ability.

It was uncomfortably ironic: her biggest fear was fighting itself, and that was exactly what made her unbeatable.

Deon couldn’t help but wonder why she even did it.

“But…you can control your powers to some capacity, right?” he pointed out. “Just now, I saw you make them go away.”

Kotono smiled shyly. “That’s not really me doing it, though,” she shared. She looked at her teammate, her eyes practically sparkling.

“It’s only because Hiroko’s here. She’s the only one who can calm me down. Just reminding myself I’m near her right now helped me feel better.”

Deon wasn’t sure why, but it made him glance at his own teammate.

“Well…I thought she was the only one who could calm me down,” Kotono corrected herself. “Then…somehow…Skrili saved me—and all of us. She knew just what to say.” She smiled and turned back to Deon. “She’s really special, you know.”

Deon laughed lightly out loud. “Oh, I know. I seriously lucked out ending up with her. She’s the reason I made it this far.”

Risking an elbow to the stomach, he patted Skrili on the head. Whatever expression she made caused Kotono to burst out laughing, catching Hiroko’s attention. She looked around at everyone.

“What’s so funny? Secrets are no fun,” she said lightheartedly, her voice joining Kotono’s in Deon’s head.

“S—sorry,” Kotono giggled, both verbally and through the magic communication. “Deon was just asking about my powers, because…uh…”

She brought a quizzical finger to her chin.

“Um…why did you ask me about that, anyway?” she inquired softly.

Deon realized how out-of-context his curiosity must have seemed. Kotono and Hiroko had no idea about his additional ability.

But he recalled the stark warning he received from Skip, after talking with him about it:

“Don’t tell anybody else what you just told me, and make sure nobody—NOBODY—else ever finds out.”

The instructions were straightforward enough, and rather foreboding. It had to remain secret.

But at the same time, how was Deon supposed to learn to harness it if he could never acknowledge its existence? He doubted this power-up would fade away on its own.

If anyone could help him understand it, it was probably Kotono. Not to mention: they were likely about to fight side-by-side against deadly enemies soon. It seemed only right that they should all be aware.

But…the way Skip spoke, and what he said about his teammate with weird powers disappearing…he thought. I think I should respect his wishes.

He tried to come up with the best workaround explanation.

“It’s likely because of the similarity between your powers,” came Phillip’s unexpected contribution, “and Deon’s special ability.”

Wait—everyone’s listening in now?! Deon thought. But that’s right…Phillip was there the first time it ever happened with Pang. He already knows.

“Ooh, special ability? Do tell,” insisted Hiroko.

Well…guess the cat’s out of the bag, Deon figured. And yet, he felt relieved: perhaps it was for the best that they knew.

Kotono and Hiroko listened inquisitively as Deon went into detail, revealing his power-up’s connection to his anger, and how it got out of his control both times it surfaced against Pang. He only ever managed to stop it at the last second, just before it was too late.

Even his glowing eyes resembled what always happened with Kotono’s.

“Strange…I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Kotono uttered. “I’m not sure how Hiroko and I can help, but…I’ll do my best.”

“Of course we can help,” Hiroko assured. “Just make sure to rely on your teammate, there, too.”

“He already does, too much,” Skrili finally chimed in plainly, and Deon heard everyone laugh. But, feeling confidently fluent in Skrili-talk now, he knew she meant ‘Let’s figure it out together.’

Despite Kotono’s uncertainty, Deon felt she and Hiroko had perhaps already pointed him in the right direction.

So Kotono depends on Hiroko to keep her powers in check, Deon reviewed to himself. Maybe…

He watched Skrili as she fought to maintain her deadpanned expression, despite giving everyone a good chuckle.

She’s never been there when my extra powers kick in, he brainstormed. And after all our training together…maybe…she could make the difference?

The revelation was promising, but also frightening. He remembered watching her collapse lifelessly, covered in burns, after managing to calm down Kotono in the championship. The last thing he wanted was to put her through something like that again.

There had to be a safer way.

I’ll have to keep paying attention to how Kotono and Hiroko interact, he planned.

“You remember all our formations?” Skrili checked back to him.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because I think we’re almost at Azvaylen’s reality,” she said, “and we’re probably gonna need them.”

Deon searched past her: during their conversation, they’d grown closer to one particular orb—or World—in the sky.

It was mostly brown with a purplish hue, and compared to everywhere else he’d been in Fantasy Country, was by far the least inviting. The World didn’t glow as extravagantly as others in the distance around it.

“You’re correct, Skrili,” Gibblezgorv confirmed, “and it seems we already have company.”

Several dots emerged in front of the World…but gradually, they took on familiar shapes: dragons. Deon counted twelve, all with dark scales, challenging their visibility against the darkening sky.

“They hired dragons to do their dirty work?” Fabinwaf grumbled in disgust.

“They must be getting immense compensation to participate in such contentious human affairs,” noted Horblezgorz.

As they neared, Deon realized none carried riders.

“HALT!” the closest one demanded. Within moments, they surrounded the group, circling them slowly.

But Gibblezgorv continued on his route, however slower, while his friends followed.

“You’re in a restricted area, my good dragon,” the leading dragon guard urged. “The Lanmuraarch Reality is off-limits. Aren’t you aware of the human turmoil in Azvaylen?”

Gibblezgorv squinted, seeming uncertain. “Lanmuraarch Reality, you say…? Eh…we’re on a trip to…what was it…Gonloft, I believe? Is that right, my fellows?”

Fabinwaf coughed a long, dramatic cough, and Horblezgorz nodded tiredly.

The leading dragon’s yellow eyes softened. “Ah. My elders, I’m afraid you’re very much off course! Gonloft is in the Blader Reality, far south of here.”

“Is that right…?” Gibblezgorv said slowly.

“Yo, I told you, gramps! We flew by the Blader Reality hours ago!” Dylan exclaimed from behind. “Y’all are always trippin’, I swear…Hey, I’m sorry about these guys.”

So their strategy is just…to play dumb, Deon thought uneasily. He glanced at Hiroko, to find her just as uninspired as he expected.

But the twelve dragons let out sighs and forgiving laughs.

“Ah, a misunderstanding,” the leader acknowledged. “We’ll be seeing you off, then. Safe flying!”

Gibblezgorv nodded. “Dylan, perhaps you should lead the way.”

“I gotchu homes.”

Deon could have used a warning for what came next, but there was no time. Within an instant, he felt a rapid sinking in his gut when Gibblezgorv forcefully plummeted below the twelve guards. Deon’s eyes happened to be focused upwards as he screamed, noticing Dylan had remained above them.

The small brown dragon twirled rapidly countless times, blasting air at all of the guard dragons and throwing them off balance.

Hold on, Deon heard Gibblezgorv say calmly in his mind.

They thrust forward, and Deon and Skrili held tight with all they had. Horblezgorz and Fabinwaf met Gibblezgorv’s velocity and they all powered ahead towards the dreary Lanmuraarch Reality.

Roars resounded behind them. Struggling to check past him, Deon found Dylan was catching back up, but the twelve guards were now recovering their balance and beginning their pursuit.

“Ah, Dylan is a natural!” Gibblezgorv beamed. “I only taught him that move a decade ago, and he’s already—”

“WATCH OUT!” Deon and Skrili cried.

An additional guard dragon swooped down from seemingly nowhere, fangs wide and ready.

“Oops. Right, then,” said Gibblezgorv.

With a powerful flap, he forced himself higher, leaned back, and Deon and Skrili felt a thud as his tail perfectly slapped the attacking dragon. It spun out of the air, growling in frustration and disorientation.

“What was that?!” Hiroko called over.

Gibblezgorv laughed heartily. “We may be pacifists NOW, my little one…but that wasn’t always the case,” he revealed wisely. “Well—except for Dylan. He’s always been nonviolent. He was raised in a warless era, you see…”

“FOCUS!” Horblezgorz stressed.

“Right, right. Very well.”

Deon almost fell back when Gibblezgorv blasted forward even faster, joined by his peers. The guard dragons kept a steady distance behind—they hadn’t quite shaken them.

But the World known as Lanmuraarch was nearly upon them now. The astoundingly large orb now occupied all of Deon’s vision. On top of the purplish, smoggy hue, a thin layer of rainbow light appeared like a reflection.

“I should warn you all,” Gibblezgorv sent to each consciousness, “I know not what sort of environment this Worldline will bring you to.”

“Right,” Hiroko said quickly. “Everyone, be ready to fight.”

“Mm,” Phillip replied.

“Got it,” confirmed Skrili.

“Ugh…” Kotono groaned, red light forming around her once more.

Deon breathed in and tensed his muscles. “Let’s get our friends back!” he exclaimed.

Gibblezgorv and the rest of his crew turned sideways, flying parallel to the wall of rainbow colors: the Worldline.

But the dragon guards were closing in, and fast. And they certainly didn’t look as understanding anymore.

“Little ones: jump on my mark, and the Worldline will suck you in,” Gibblezgorv instructed calmly.

“But…Gibblezgorv,” started Skrili. “They’re about to catch you. What will you do?”

The guards roared deafeningly.

“Ha. It appears we’ll need to have an old-fashioned dragon duel, won’t we?” he decided.

Deon’s heart sunk. They’d proven their speed and wit, but it was still three elderly dragons, and one small one, against twelve young, angry guards.

“I didn’t think I’d be doing this again. Here we go!” said Fabinwaf confidently in between coughs.

“Let’s prove we’ve still got it, yes?” called Horblezgorz.

The consciousnesses were wordless for a moment.

“Th…thank you, Gibblezgorv,” Skrili said unevenly. “And I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t give me that sad tone, my friend!” pleaded Gibblezgorv with a laugh. He switched back to mental communication. “Go find your friends, and make it back to the Worldline. We’ll be waiting right here for you, I promise.”

The dragon guards swooped even closer behind, riding along the Worldline just as Gibblezgorv and his friends.

“We’re out of time. Now,” ordered Gibblezgorv.

Deon and Skrili stood up carefully on Gibblezgorv’s saddle, while Phillip, Hiroko, and Kotono did the same on their dragons. Gibblezgorv leaned, facing them towards the mixture of colorful light and bleak fog. It looked endless, like they would fall forever.

Skrili caught Deon’s eye and gave him a subtle, yet tenacious nod. He returned the sentiment, adrenaline shooting through him. They grasped each other’s hands.

“Go show them what’s up!!” came Dylan’s voice.

“JUMP!!” Gibblezgorv exclaimed.

The five consciousnesses pounced forward into the infinite air. An invisible force pulled at them, sucking them towards the vast sheet of Wordline shades.

The colors overtook them, and they plunged into the Lanmuraarch Reality.