Title: Secret of the Shadow Track
Co-authors and/or betas: None
Genre/s: Action/Adventure
Summary: Artha is trapped within the Shadow Track for 15 years and when he escapes, he must deal with the next Dragon-Human war.
Main character/s: Artha, Beau and lots of others
Pairings: Reepyr/Spynn, and in future, future chapters, P/K and a love triangle between Tryaust/Sycundys/Propheci, non-slash.
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: Artha is thrown into a war in later chapters, so there's blood, killing, off screen torture and stuff.
Word Count: 84,960
No. of Chapters: 15
Complete/WiP: WiP
Concrit: Greatly Encouraged
Mary-Sue: No
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Booster
A/N: Well here's my first DB fanfic. Reviews are greatly appreaciated!!! Word apparently has a new idea, which surprisingly works... This first chapter is just an introduction. I know, the chapter title stinks.


Chapter One: Introduction
Artha ducked as Moordryd’s mag-staff swung in an arc over his head. He pushed himself up and barely blocked another one of Moordryd’s attacks. With a groan of frustration he pushed his rival away and nudged Beau to the left of the track. Thankfully, instead of pursuing him, Moordryd stayed on the opposite side of the raceway. Artha looked down at Beau and groaned.

“Artha,” Parm said, appearing in Artha’s VIDD-screen.

“I know, Beau’s energy…”

“Is nearly gone. If you keep fighting Moordryd like this, you won’t have enough to finish the race,” lectured Parm. Artha tore his eyes from the screen and focused on maneuvering Beau past the obstacles. Decepshun put on a burst of speed and took first place. Artha fell in right behind and followed Moordryd around a turn. “Once you’re in the academy, you can’t get carried away with winning little fights.”

“What?” Artha said incredulously. “I’m just defending myself. He’s the one attacking. He won’t stop.” Parm shook his head and wagged his finger.

“No excuses.”

Artha rolled his eyes. “You’re starting to sound like my dad.”

“I am not!”

Artha grinned at his best friend.

Parm turned to look down at Lance. “Am I?”
Lance just shrugged and peeled the wrapper off yet another draconee-yum bar. “Sure starting to sound like it.”

Parm grunted and checked the map with a sour expression on his face. “A few more turns Artha, then a straight. Watch out, because there’s an extremely sharp right hand turn, and then the finish line. Can you sneak in front?”

“Ahhh…” Artha thought frantically. “I think so. I have an idea!”

“He has an idea!” Lance echoed with his mouth full of draconee goodness.

“Great!” Parm looked at the floor and after a few seconds mumbled to Lance and Artha.

“Am not…”

Artha stayed right on Decepshun’s tail past several more turns. Moordryd looked behind once, and the mixture of frustration and annoyance gave Artha a burst of confidence. Moordryd moved to the left of the track, and Artha went to the right. The oncoming turn that he was rushing towards banked harshly to the right, and ran back alongside the track.
Artha stayed near the side and made sure he was just behind Moordryd. He didn’t want to get too close or too far. He glanced quickly beside him. On his right, the finish flashed by as he raced past it.

Moordryd was nearing the bend and was preparing to turn into it. Artha hung his finger over the button for the white rappel gear. He watched Moordryd intently and waited for the right moment. His finger lingered a second longer, then…

Now! Artha thought and pressed hard. The gear shot out ahead, past him and Moordryd, and clung to the bank of the turn. Artha’s timing couldn’t be better. Moordryd was racing up on the embankment, and failed to see the rappel gear stretched across his path in time. Descepshun ran straight into it, causing it to snap. The 12-tonne dragon stumbled and fell, and slid into the side of the track. Artha smiled. The race was his.

*
As soon as the white gear shot past his line of sight, Moordryd had frantically tried to make Decepshun jump over, for it was too late to activate his thrusters. Unfortunately, Decepshun had seen it just when Moordryd did. When she felt the taunt line of the rappel gear hit her front legs and snap, she did her best to maintain her footing. She landed heavily on her left side and the impact drove the air out of her lungs. With what control she had left, she frantically tried to avoid hurting and crushing Moordryd. She flipped over several times before hitting the side of the track with a violent thud. She laid on her left side and remained on the track, dazed.

Moordryd groaned in anger from the appalling fall, and put his hand to his head. He tried to get up, but was forced to quickly duck when Artha and Beau thundered past, inches from his head. He yelled in vexation and urged Decepshun to get up and run, knowing all too well that the race had been lost.

Decepshun got up as quick as she could, and using all the strength she could muster, jumped back into a sprint towards the finish. Moordryd just barely made second place as Kitt finished a close third. His dislike, and almost hatred, of the stable brat intensified as he heard the thunderous applause of the crowd aimed at the fantastic win by Artha Penn. Applause which should’ve been for him. He had been leading for most of the race. He could just see his father hanging his head in shame at yet another loss by his son.

*
Artha felt exhilarated as Beau ran proudly across the finish, running like it had been no big deal. He pumped his hands up in the air and smiled as the roar from the crowd grew larger. His VIDD-screen came to life.

“Did you see that?” Artha quickly blurted before Parm or Lance could say anything.

“Great move Artha!” Parm said.

“Yeah! That was really drac!” Lance agreed.

Parm leaned forward excitedly. “And now thanks to your latest win…” Artha had to grin at that. “…Moordryd is only one point ahead. Win the next race, and you’re both tied to go into the final race.”

“In which I shall come home as the victor.” Artha stated. Beau snorted and looked up at him. “Oops, I mean, in which we, shall come home ever victorious!” Beau nodded his head, satisfied with with his revised statement.

“But if you fail to beat Moordryd, you’ll be out of the running for the academy.” Parm stated, and Artha sighed at his friend’s dismal words. He slowed Beau to a walk, then stopped when he saw the third place finisher come.

“Parm, don’t worry.” Artha said and looked up as Kitt and Wyldfyr approached.

“Nice move with Moordryd back there.” Kitt put a hand on her hip and looked Artha straight in the eye. “For a minute there I thought he had you.” Artha looked at her in disbelief.

“What? Oh come on.”

“What?”

“Moordryd never ‘has’ me. I can beat him easy.”

Of course, Artha’s objection didn‘t fool Kitt “And of course,” she said slyly, “you let him lead most of the race I suppose.”
“Well, yeah. I… just… wanted him to get … overconfident.”

“Uh huh. Sure. And I’m guessing you let Cain bump you down to last place at the beginning too.”

“…sure. I just wanted to make a comeback, that’s all.” Beau rolled his eyes and shook his head, almost making Artha fall at the unexpected movement. Kitt and Wyldfyr both laughed but stopped when they saw Artha staring past them.

“Time to rub it in.” Artha said and stretched his arms. Beau grinned. Being the dragon of legend didn’t mean he couldn’t flaunt his victories once in a while. Kitt followed Artha’s eyes and saw Moordryd and Cain on their dragons. To her amusement, Moordryd was practically seething.

“Why Moordryd, there you are.” Artha said, much too polite. Moordryd sneered in response as Artha approached. “Are you okay? I mean, that fall must have really, really hurt.”

“Don’t fret your tiny little brain about it. If I were you, I’d be more worried about watching your back in the next race.”

Artha sighed, “I suppose, but I can’t help it, I’m a nice guy.” Artha spread his arms helplessly. “I mean, you were winning the entire race. And you only lose because of a simple trick by me?” Moordryd narrowed his eyes and fumed. Artha interrupted him when he tried to speak by continuing. “If I were you, I’d be worried about making it into the academy.” Beau looked at Moordryd and Decepshun and nodded his head to add further support to Artha’s point. Decepshun hissed back at him.

Moordryd growled and pointed his finger at Artha as he spoke in a low, threatening voice. “Don’t forget Penn, if you don’t beat me in the next race, there’s no way you’ll make it into the academy. And trust me, you’ll be lucky if you even finish the race.” His cold grey eyes convoyed the threat better than his words.

But Artha was unaffected by Moordryd’s threats, as they bounced harmlessly of his shield of self-confidence. “Back to threatening me again, are we?”

Moordryd stared hard at Artha, weighing in his mind whether it would be better to leave now, or to continue on with this conversation. Artha smiled triumphantly back, causing Moordryd to grind his teeth. His wrist-comm beeped, indicating a waiting message.

“Come on, Cain.” Moordryd finally grunted while glaring at Artha. “We have to go.” They raced off, leaving the other two to cough in the billowing cloud of dust.

“You know,” Kitt said as she waved here hand in front of her face to clear the dust, “you might want to take his threats a bit more seriously.”

Artha looked at where Moordryd and Cain disappeared to. “I guess.” Then he brightened and looked back at Kitt and smiled. “But I do have one of the top racers watching my back out on the track.”

“Yeah, you do. Do you know how lucky you are, stable boy?” Kitt grinned.

“Artha!” Lance shouted as he and Parm finally reached them.

“Hey!” Artha greeted them.

“What was all that with Moordryd?” Parm inquired.

“You know, the usual. I beat him, he gets mad, I beat him again…. Life is good.”

“You haven’t beaten him yet.” Parm pointed out.

“You don’t think I can?”

“Of course you can, as long as Moordryd plays fair.”

“He wouldn’t dare cheat on an academy qualifying race.”

“You sure?”

“Well…”

“I mean,” Parm continued, “Who’s to say he wasn’t involved in framing us? Remember? Oh sure, it was all the Shadow Booster’s doing. But Moordryd knows the Shadow Booster, he’s said so himself. You were thrown in jail,” he pointed at Kitt, then Artha, “and you were being chased by Dragon City Security. Remember?”

“No I don’t. When was Kitt arrested?” Artha asked innocently. Lance barely stifled a laugh as Parm scowled.

“But it’s not just on the raceway, where you have to watch out.” Kitt said. “You can count on him doing something sneaky off track.”

“Guys, I know.” Artha looked at them all. “We’ll all be alert.”

“Extremely alert!” Lance said and peered around intensively.

Artha chuckled. “What could happen with this kind of surveillance?” Parm and Kitt looked at each other worriedly. Moordryd was unpredictable, and getting into the academy was extremely important for Artha’s training. What wouldn’t happen?

*

Word Paynn’s citadel.
His footsteps echoed throughout the citadel as he approached the empty chair bathed in artificial light from the numerous monitors. The monitors flickered with imagery. Some were tuned into Dragon City news and a few others showed the entrance to the citadel. But the majority were focused on everyday life in mid city. Moordryd cringed inside when the last monitor kept replaying the day’s race. He criticized himself for not looking behind and for under-estimating Artha Penn. He should know by know that he wasn’t your everyday average rookie with an ordinary dragon. Moordryd waited patiently in his usual place, watching the monitors. Until something on the desk caught his eye.

The desk was beneath the screens, presenting an open folder with papers spilling out. He thought this rather odd, even more than the fact that his father was absent. Word was never one to leave any type of document lying in the open, no matter its importance. He glanced around. Memories and warnings kept resurfacing in his mind, as his conscience screamed at him to leave it be. As it turns out, curiosity can capture more than a cat.

He held his breath, and only the steady hum of the machines reached his ears. They had never seemed so loud before. His footsteps too, rang with unprecedented sound as he approached the papers. He took a step up onto the dais, and reached out a hand to move the papers from atop one another. He was surprised to see that they all contained mention of the Shadow Track. The majority were written in his father’s elegant scribbling, describing the black shadow draconium found within. One file questioned the draconium’s ability to entrap humans forever and to release them with no signs of aging. As his eyes further scanned the paper, he noticed that Word kept coming back to this. It seemed as though he wanted to control its strange power. He wasn’t surprised about that. His father wanted to control everything.

He paused. His father would never leave anything like this simply lying in plain sight, even if it was in the comfort of his citadel. And the way the papers were scattered looked as if he had left in a hurry. Perhaps he meant to come back really soon…

“Interesting?” Moordryd started and bumped one of the screens with his elbow as he jumped back. His father was standing inches from him, tapping his fingers and claws together in annoyance.

“Uh, ah…” Moordyd stumbled, mortified at having been discovered. Word stared him down, until finally, Moordyd got the hint and returned to his usual spot behind the chair. Word picked up the papers and carefully put them back into the folder, stretching the silence between them. “What was that?” Moordryd demanded more than asked, after he regained his composure.

His father paused a moment to look in his general direction, then carefully placed the papers inside the file. “Nothing that would benefit you.” Moordryd frowned as his father seated himself on his throne.

Moordryd changed the subject. “What is it you want now?”

“What I want? What I want is to start the next dragon-human war.”

“Well, why did you call me?”

“So you would come here.” Word focused his attention on the screens. Moordyrd barely covered an exasperated sigh. This time he chose his words more carefully.

“What do you want to tell me?”

Word turned his chair to face his son. “Many things.” He stared into Moordryd’s eyes as he went on. “The first of which…how to be rid of the Dragon Booster, once and for all.”

Moordryd was unmoved. “And how do you plan on doing it this time?” Word simply smiled and Moordryd looked away, as he couldn’t bare to stare into those evil eyes any longer.


Next chappie we'll find out Word's new idea!

Update, pleeeease? ;) I wanna know what Word's plan is... :plot:

:lol: :dance: Yay! Someone's reading this! I'll update in a few days, or less...

Wow, your first fic? It's great! A lot better than most of stories aroud here, in my humble opinion. Really cannon and written very well, I like that.
And poor Moordryd and Decepshun, how could you? ;p
I just can't wait for more of your works!

Aw shucks. And believe me, Moordryd will get his day! I'm thinking of writing another fic whilst I write this fic. How does Artha and Moordryd switching bodies sound? ^_^

This next chapter is based after the defiant when Word knows Armaggeddon is talking to Moordryd. This is also my take on the Shadow Track.

Chapter 2: Plot Revealed

“The Shadow Track.”

“What?” Moordryd was caught off guard. “The Shadow Track?” Word settled back in his chair with a grim expression on his face as Moordryd’s voice rose in pitch. “The Shadow Track?”

“Did I not speak clearly? Yes, the Shadow Track.” Word hissed the last part.

“What? Why?”

“Because, as you may have noticed, I have been…observing it. Studying it, if you will.” Moordryd had the sense to look ashamed as Word scowled at him. “Learning how it works… and discovering its potential.” He spoke the last part in a near whisper, so soft that Moordryd barely heard it. Word obviously had not meant for him to hear, so Moordryd gave no hint that he had.

“Don‘t you mean worked? It was destroyed.” Moordryd smartly asked as Word stayed silent. “How can it help?”

“There is something you must understand, Moordryd.” Word now adopted a lecturing tone of voice. “When the Dragon Booster, young Lance Penn, Cain and yourself escaped from the Shadow Track, yes, it was broken. But black shadow draconium is a strange, powerful thing. A mysterious thing. The track was broken, but not destroyed. Even as you left, it started to grow again.”

“So the Shadow Track will once again be as it was before?”

“Correct, but I do not know how long it will take until it returns to its former state.”

“So it’s useless until then.”

“No. That is where you are wrong. Again.” Moordryd scowled slightly as his father held up a claw to silence any rebuttal he might give. “Touching black shadow draconium traps you in the illusions. The Shadow Track was completely covered in it. But the amount and purity of black shadow draconium in the track varied from place to place. In parts where it was at its lowest gave the weak nightmares. Illusions that are easily confronted and defeated. When you and the others were trapped within, you were lucky enough to touch only the places where it was at its utmost lowest. Indeed, if your dragon, Decepshun, had moved her foot several more feet to the right, she would have touched a vein of draconium so rich and pure, that it would create fantasies so unimaginably horrible, that you would never be able to conquer them.” Word paused, waiting for his son’s reaction.

Moordryd unknowingly complied. His jaw dropped slightly as he recalled the track, and the lingering danger he never knew. The stuttering and uncertainty in his voice proved it evermore. “How…how do you know all this?”

“Do not question my methods.” Word said abruptly. He stood and walked over to the desk and laid his clawed hands on the folder that still rested there. “In places where the draconium was at its purest and most dangerous state, it is growing at an alarming rate. Those places are now fully functional, and can entrap the Dragon Booster with far more dreadful and compelling illusions than before. More compelling by far.”

“So what you’re saying is, all the black shadow draconium in the Shadow Track is gone at the moment. Except for a few places where it still works?”

“Yes, but these places are few. The majority of the Shadow Track is still inactive. Therefore it may take a bit of searching on your part to trap the Dragon Booster. Once he touches the draconium, it will instantly ensnare him.” He balled his claws into a fist, and a gleam of victory entered his eyes.

“Me?” At his son’s condescending question, Word’s expression turned from one of triumph to one of frustration. “How will I know where the active draconium is? How will I even get in?” Moordryd asked. But what he really wanted to know was, Is there any chance of me getting captured again? Would you care if I got trapped?

“As for the first, I have this.” Word pulled a strange gear from his robes. It was a purple and black circle, possessing two long grey handles which stuck out from opposite sides. The screen in the middle glowed an eerie green colour. “This will scan the track and will show you where the working draconium is.” He handed the gear over to Moordryd, who took it, illustrating to Word that Moordryd had accepted this mission. Not that he had much of a choice. “I want that gear back if you return.” Word added in the last part as a side thought, which answered the rest of Moordryd’s questions.

“But…”

“As for the last part, the Shadow Track opens only when the moons are in alignment. This creates a certain gravitational pull that reveals the entrance for a time. This,” Word stepped over to a mag-rack, and took off another piece of gear. He turned it around in his hands as feeble light flickered off its polished finish. It was a simple dark purple sphere. “This will open the track by creating an isolated field of…” He stopped and glanced at Moordryd. His son had never been one to understand the workings of any type of gear. He grimaced and simply said, “Well, this will trick the track into opening.” He walked over to Moordryd and gave it to him. Moordryd held one gear in each of his hand. He looked from one to the other. Word became impatient and loudly asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Hmm? No.” Moordryd said without looking up. Word glared at him.

“This isn’t too… difficult is it?” This made Moordryd look up angrily.

“Of course not, father.”

“We shall see. We shall see.” He repeated as he returned to his chair.

Moordryd looked at the gears again then crossly looked at his father, who was now watching him closely. “What if the Dragon Booster gets out again? What if he defeats his fears? What then?”

“If he is trapped in the Shadow Track, as I’ve told you before, his fears will be greater than before.”

“I know, but…”

“It is unlikely that he will overcome them, but if he does manage this and breaks free, he will find the entrance blocked.”

“Now how is that going to ha…”

“Because the side of the cliff is going to fall directly onto the entrance. Even you can plant a few timed bombs.” Word stated very slowly. “Now, is all of this too much for you too handle?”

“Never.”

“Good. I also want you to bring me back some samples of black shadow draconium.”

“What for? Don’t you have one?”

“Yes, but it not enough. I need more. Make sure you bring an ample supply.” Moordryd started to question this, than thought better of it. Word wouldn’t tell him what he needed it for. But it was clear from the papers on his desk that Word was on to something. Moordryd couldn’t fathom what, or what the draconium’s potential could be. But Word knew. And he was most likely hoping to use it for his war. A war that Moordryd wasn’t even certain he wanted to be a part of anymore. But until all this happened, until his true destiny came, he would help his father. He too, wanted to see the Dragon Booster gone forever.

“He’ll be trapped before the night is over.”

“Make it by four.”

“What?”

“I want the Dragon Booster trapped before 4:00. Before the afternoon edition of Dragon City news.”

“But I race again at four.”

“I’m aware of that.”

Moordryd looked at him helplessly. “That only gives me a few hours.”

“Then why are you tarrying here?” Word swiveled his chair around to face the monitors. Moordryd backed away slowly. His father didn’t turn around, and to Moordryd’s relief, didn’t discuss the day’s race. He was fine with that. Either his father was too disappointed to mention it, or he just didn’t care. But still, Moordryd yearned to redeem himself. If he could lock up the Dragon Loser and win the next race, his father was sure to be impressed. He left with a twisted smile on his face. Now to call Cain and deal with what had to be done.

*
Word turned and watched Moordryd walk out of the citadel. He tapped his fingers together and sat deep in thought. He was sure he could trust Moordryd with this. After all, his son hated the Dragon Booster as much as him. But what would happen after was a complete mystery. Something he could only guess at. This was the last ‘quest’ his son would go on for him. He couldn’t trust him any further. If his plans with the draconium went well, and by well he meant didn’t kill him, he wouldn’t need his worthless son anymore. It was almost a pity. Moordryd tried so hard to impress him, always trying, never succeeding. It was pathetic as well. Word comforted himself with the fact that soon, he would no longer have that meddling imbecile haunting his every step. Who knew how much information Armaggeddon received from his son. Moordryd had been useful, for a while. He suddenly laughed. His haunted laughter reverberated off the walls and filled the entire citadel. Soon no one would be able to stand in his way.

Must...have...more! :)

Same...here...too! ^_^

Can't wait for what happens next!

Yay! New part! *happy dance*
It's so cool that you picked up the plot right after the last aired episode. 'Good' to see the hatered Word feels thowards his son after finding out Moordryd was collaborating with Armegaddon. Finally there's a reason for this loathing and not just Word being a bastard. He still is anyway. Though i have the feeling you've made him a bit too evil, after all it was said in 'The Defiant' that Word cares for his son and that's his weakness. But whatever. xD
It's also nice to see Moordryd struggle between loyality to his evil daddy and the growing father-like-omgwtf relationship with his evil amulet of doom. Pity it never got much time in the series. And I like the part when Moordryd is wondering weather Word would care if he was trapped in Shadow Track again or not. Watching 'Faster than Fear' I was wondering the same, what would WOrd do if his son didn't conquer his fears.
Interesting idea with the Shadow Track, gives a lot of possibilities... I just can't wait to see what you'll do with it! Smells like angst to me X3
I'm also curious how are the others doing, hope we'll see more of them too!

Right, enough of my bubbling. Forgive me all the mistakes I've made in my posts. Sadly english is nothing like my mother language and that's why I don't dare to comment on the more technical side of your story, like grammar or spelling. ^^;

Can't wait to see more!

~turk

This is very good. One of the better fics here. Sorry I can't muster up the long comment this deserves; the plot seems interesting and the characterisation's decent. Most interesting!

wow awsome!! sorry I haven't gotten around to reading it untill now (I'v been a bit busy ) but I love it !! it's really good !!! I hope to see more !!!
and by the way I say if you have a good coment from Sarah Frost then your fic must be goo d( she only replys' to teh best or the worst !!)
~Shearkin

Chapter 3: Baited Hook

Moordryd had called Cain as quick as he could. They both had raced through Down City, Shadow Town, Work Town and the better part of Mid City as well. Though when they had approached Precinct, they slowed to a gallop, one that seemed casual enough to Moordryd. They couldn’t have Dragon City Security sending Gargoyle Pursuit Dragons after them. They just didn’t have the time for that.

In Mid City, Cain had whined at first about going so fast in the streets. They were busier than normal, as well they should be. People were flocking to see the most intense and exciting races of the season. They always came at the end, and now that there was a rivalry between two racers, with only one position available in the academy, the streets were at a standstill. Which created a problem for the two anxious Dragon Eyes. Moordryd knew he had little time to spare, as he had yet to go all the way to the Shadow Track, go into it, blow up the side of the cliff, and then came all the way back. And still make it in time for his race, which he then had to race with what energy Decepshun had left. He didn’t know how long it would take to get the Dragon Booster trapped. He supposed it depended on how soon he could find active draconium in the track. And the sooner the better. They took the little known back streets and alley-ways, avoiding the heavy traffic, and when need be, jumping over slow-moving dragons or forcing them to move. Which was done with little or no problem. Being leader of the feared Dragon Eyes could give a person a certain reputation in the city.

Later, after being chased by Dragon City Security only once, which was surprising considering their antics in the streets, they sat on their dragons not too far from Penn Stables. Cain sat idly, fiddling with his mag-staff which he had lain across his saddle. They were waiting.

“Do you see them Moordryd? Because I sure don’t.” Cain said sardonically. Moordryd kept his face calm, suppressing an instinctive sneer. Cain got really irritating when he was bored.

“They’ll come.” Moordryd said through gritted teeth. He was more frustrated and impatient than bored, and Cain’s overstated sigh agitated him further. Moordryd glared at Cain to let him know it was not appreciated. “Rancydd said only a few more minutes, Cain. Keep watching!”

Since Moordryd had Dragon Eyes all over the city, it wasn’t too long before he had located some of the stable brats. Kitt and Artha were racing on one of the tracks with Chute, who had apparently decided to spare time from her own busy academy schedule to help Artha tone his skills. Since they were racing, Moordryd couldn’t very well use them in his plan. Mini-brat and the egg-head, however, were ready to be duped. Rancydd was following them as they returned to Penn Stables from who knows where. The plan was simple: he and Cain would talk about getting more black shadow draconium from the Shadow Track, acting like it was a big secret no one should know. Lance and Parm would overhear, and, not knowing they were doing exactly as Moordryd wanted, call the Dragon Booster to stop them before they entered the Shadow Track. Then Moordryd would trap him in there. He was sure it would work…if they would get here! Already they had paused to watch the ending of a race, stop to buy candy, browse around a gear shop and talk to Race Marshall Budge about the day’s race. Moordryd was getting too impatient.

Suddenly, his VIDD-screen came to life. “Magna Draconis, they’re finally moving.” Rancydd said. He was not one to sit still. “They should be passing by you in a few seconds.”

Moordryd sighed with relief. “Okay, get ready Cain.” Cain nodded, excited as well. Rancydd disappeared along with Moordryd’s VIDD-screen to continue with what job he had been on before following the stable brats. Moordryd and Cain backed into the shadows beside a huge building. The stable brats would walk right past, stop once they heard Cain and him talking in the alley, and race off to tell the Dragon Blunder. Already he could hear them.

“Lance,” Parm was saying as they approached, “I can’t believe you did that. Who knows what it’ll do to you.”

“Chill, Parm,” Moordryd heard Lance speak, “Dragonola bars don’t make people sick if they eat them.”

“Yes, but ten? Lance you really shouldn’t have…”

“I feel drac. I’m fine, really.” Lance protested and Parm huffed as he gave in.

“Ready?” Moordryd whispered to Cain, who nodded. Now Moordryd could see their faint shadows as the brats came as far as he wanted them to.

“You can’t go back there, Moordryd. The Shadow Track is still dangerous.” Cain started in a voice loud enough to be overheard. Parm and Lance’s conversation immediately halted, as did their shadows. Moordryd grinned and looked back at Cain.

“But I have to,” he responded, “my father needs some samples of black shadow draconium to experiment on.”

“But what ever for, Moordryd? What ever could he use it for?” Cain asked in reply and then gasped and put his hands to his face. “You don’t mean? Oh, dear, you do, don’t you?” Moordryd could only stare at Cain. “Will he use it for something…dangerous?" Cain gasped again, louder this time. Moordryd was beginning to wish he had brought Rancydd to do this instead, or Swayy. "What shall we do? Whatever can we do?” Moordryd was ready to punch him. Instead, he had to make do with glowering at him.

“Of course you idiot! My father will use it to get rid of the Dragon Booster once and for all!”

“But I thought you were going to…” Cain started before Moordryd whacked him over the head with Cain’s own mag-staff. Cain rubbed his head and glared back, point taken as he grabbed for his staff. “So once he experiments with them, he’ll be able to destroy the Dragon Booster? Drac. But how will you get in? Isn’t the track destroyed?”

“The track isn’t dangerous any longer.” Moordryd smiled when he heard Parm’s sharp gasp. Those brats really needed to learn how to be quiet. “And as for getting in…you have the gear, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes.” Cain said as if he had forgotten.

“With that gear we’ll be able to trick the track into opening and get the draconium. Cain, when we get there, I want you to scout the eastern side.”

“No where else?”

“Why? The eastern side is the place where the Hydrags are most likely to get at us. I want you to make sure they stay away. No one else knows what we‘re doing.”

“Is that why no one else from our crew is coming?”

“Exactly. They have jobs to do and would be just useless if they came. Come on, we have to finish this before the race this afternoon.” Moordryd pushed forward on the handles and headed down the alley, with Cain following close behind, chuckling. Their dragons lumbered beside each other as Moordryd stared straight ahead. This wouldn’t work if he looked behind and had one of the brats notice he knew they overheard. He tried telling Cain this with his eyes, and Cain seemed to understand. At least he didn’t turn around. One of the brats was sure to peek around the corner at them.

*
Parm dared a peek around the corner at the two dragon riders. “Magna Draconis,” he whispered. Lance tugged at his arm.

“We have to tell Artha! Now! Moordryd’s going there. Now!” Lance looked up at his tall friend with worried eyes. Parm nodded and checked his pockets.

“Oh no. Where’s my wrist-comm? Oh dear. I don’t think we can afford to spare the time going to the track if Moordryd is heading there now. This is awful, just awful…”

“Parm!” Lance wailed.

“What?”

“It’s on your wrist!” Parm glanced at his wrist.

“Of course.” He said sheepishly. He hated it when he got nervous, he just couldn’t think properly. Lance wasn’t amused.

“Call him!” He insisted. Parm obeyed by contacting Artha. He groaned in frustration.

“He’s probably racing right now, Lance! He won‘t pick up if he’s racing.” Parm tried again as Lance stamped his foot in frustration. Black shadow draconium was very dangerous.

Parm had no idea what Word would do with it, but he knew it was going to be bad. But the Shadow Track? Magna Draconis, that place was an even bigger mystery.

They had little or no time. Moordryd and Cain were headed there right now, and Parm knew they would finish what they wanted as quick as they could so they could make it back in time for the race. Why Moordryd wanted this done before the race confused Parm. His only answer was that Word really wanted that gear. Word struck Parm as a usually patient man. But Word was probably too excited to get the draconium samples, which meant he knew what to do with them, which meant as soon as he received them he would start construction on his diabolical plan. And if he was this impatient, it must mean that he had an extremely diabolical plan, one that would be hard to counter, if at all possible.

Now he was rambling, which he always seemed to do when he was nervous and he just couldn’t think with all these thoughts and possibilities ringing in his head. Too many problems and not enough easy solutions. He tried calling Artha again after his second attempt failed and willed Artha to pick up. All of a sudden the screen popped up green, presenting a very annoyed Artha.

"What?" Was his immediate question.

"Uh," Parm stuttered, wondering where to begin. Artha examined his face.

"You okay? You looked like you've just seen the Murhota!"

"It's not that! It's Moordryd!"

"What's he doing now?" For a moment Artha looked beside him, probably at Kitt or Chute. Parm took a deep breath. He should start at the beginning, and the sooner the better.

Chapter 4: Into the Crypt of Time

Coershun and Decepshun skidded to a halt, spraying dust into the dank air. Above, deep clouds of grey loomed depressingly and hindered what faint light appeared from cheering up the place. Great obsolete statues and broken formations gave a finishing touch to the already overwhelming feeling of dread and ancient history. They looked up before them at a familiar place. Coershun shrank back and glanced to his partner for support. Decepshun snorted at his timid behavior and glared at the track. She wouldn’t let it cow her again so easily. She was stronger now, and besides, she wouldn’t get caught this time. She felt Moordryd shift on the saddle above. She smelt his apprehension, which was understandable for anyone who had been in the Shadow Track before. But what made her proud to have him as her rider was the limited amount of fear she sensed, along with the determination he always had hidden.

Cain, on the other hand, was as petrified as his dragon. He glanced around warily, eyes searching every shadowed corner and hidden cranny. Decepshun sighed. Cain and Coershun fed off each other’s fears. Though they were a great team and loyal friends, it wasn’t the least bit helpful to anyone when they acted in such ways. Moordryd was aware of this also, and glanced over at his friend.

“Cain, be glad I’m not making you go in there.”

Cain paused his search and turned to Moordryd. “But I’ll have to stay out here alone with the Hydrags,” he looked behind him and continued in a low voice, “and who knows what else?”

“Would you rather have stayed at the compound?”

Cain paused before replying. “No.” For all his cowardly acts, Cain was someone Moordryd could count on. Of course, he might run at the slightest provocation of danger, but until that happened he was right at Moordryd’s side. The silence that followed was broken by Moordryd’s harsh voice.

“Just get to the eastern side and don’t let the Dragon Booster know you see him. He‘s getting closer.” Moordryd looked at the scanner he had on his left arm. Much like the one in the compound, it scanned for gold draconium. The Dragon Booster had appeared a few minutes ago, and since the scanner had a long range, Moordryd was knew he was coming even though he was still far away. It was time to open the track before the Dragon Booster took away the gear. He put his hand into his jacket and pulled out the sphere his father had given him.

“Be careful in the track.” Cain said just as Moordryd started moving forward.

Moordryd stopped and glanced over at him. “Be careful the Hydrags don’t eat you.” He smirked as Decepshun trotted over to the middle of the clearing. Cain sighed. He was used to his mocking tone, and in turn, he used the same attitude towards Moordryd. It was a friendly sort of disrespect they had going towards each other. Cain prodded Coershun into a gallop to the eastern side of the clearing, where he would simply sit and ‘not notice’ the Dragon Booster’s coming. Though if the Dragon Booster came out of the track without Moordryd, he would have to do something about that. Not that it was likely to happen.

Decepshun walked over to the monument in front of the track’s entrance. It’s ominous presence dominated the small clearing. Moordryd hopped off his dragon, and checked his scanner again. The Dragon Booster was getting closer. He must be racing at top speed. Moordryd smiled. If this worked, he must remember to thank the stable brats for their invaluable help.

Focusing his attention on the odd ball he had in his hand, he bent down near the monument. He placed the gear on the ground on the opposite side of the statue from where the Shadow Track lay. He activated it, then stepped back, not sure how far back he should safely be. Cain watched from afar. The gear blinked once with yellow lights which encircled the entire orb, and then went silent. The lights came back, starting from a faint glow to a bright glare. It caused the statue to cast a shadow onto the track’s entrance, just like the last time, when the moons cast the very same shadow on the very same place. Then it emitted a pulse that rippled through the air. Moordryd half raised his hands to shield himself from it. There was no need, as the ripple raced off harmlessly into the distance.

That must have been recreating the gravitational pull the moons had caused before, Moordryd guessed. And, like the time before, and all the countless other times before that, the Shadow Track opened.

“It worked!” Moordryd exclaimed, somewhat relieved. He looked over at where Cain and Coershun were watching. They were amazed too. But at a glare from Moordryd, they quickly ‘watched’ the eastern side.

Decepshun magged Moordryd on, and started walking towards the opening. Moordryd pulled out the other gear his father had given him and turned it on. It hummed softly then went silent, showing a virtual representation of the world in its screen. He pointed it into the Shadow Track and grunted in appreciation. No active draconium was near the entrance. He wondered how deep into the track he would have to go before finding some. After checking the scanner on his arm, Decepshun and he entered the Shadow Track for the second time. The Dragon Booster watched from the shadows at the opposite end of the clearing.

Liliwen, please see the rule about double posting. You can include things like your response to feedback in the same post as the fic. :)

Nicely done, Liliwen. ;)

Hope you can update soon! :)

Well done my friend!

Love the parts with Decepshuns pov, and the Moordryd - Cain interaction was great too!
Finally something is happening, we see the shadow track. I've been waiting for this since the start!
Keep on going!

I like how you write. It's very flowing. You describe things, use good grammer, punctuation, etc. The plot is well put together and things seem In Character.

I have a problem though, which is why I haven't commented before and I should have.

There is no problem with your fics, its just for some reason I'm not intrested in the stories/plots. I have no clue why, I'm just "hey this is pretty good" and then "meh" and have no intrest in finishing it. It's very annoying to me too, since you write so well.

It's like I'm going to miss out on shakespear (for this fandom) just because I don't like plays. Or something like that. It's nothing against you--I think it's because I've gotten back to writing myself that reading is taking a huge back seat. So...sorry. But I'd love to MSN or AIM with you sometime!

I dont like big posts. SO ill summarize it in one sentence. Its really,REALLY good. Ok two setences. It keeps my interest all the way. :) :D

Thanks all for the reviews! I really appreciate it! Sorry bout the double posting LF. Won't happen again.

It's okay, I read huge books that although they are well written and have a good story, some pages bore me to tears. Maybe more action will help. ^_^ Next chapter's called Downfall of Dragon City. Dun, dun, dun! But once again, I hate the title I came up with for this chapter. ^_^ Well, enjoy!


Chapter 5:Trapped in the Tomb
Artha had arrived just in time to see the track open. Kitt, Lance and Parm and their dragons watched from behind a fallen column.

“Magna Draconis, what can’t Word invent?” Parm whispered. A silent agreement passed between the good guys as they solemnly nodded slightly. Artha watched Moordryd disappear into the Shadow Track.

“So much for stopping him before he gets in.” Artha mused. “Come on boy, ready to go?” Beau nodded. He was always ready. “We don’t have much time, we have to make sure he doesn’t pick anything up.” Artha glanced back at his crew, “you guys stay here and watch Cain. Hyaah!” Beau leapt into a mad dash towards the entrance.
“What? Oh…Artha, be very careful!” Parm called after, making sure his voice wasn’t loud enough for Cain to overhear. “Where are you going?” He asked as he turned to see Wyldfyr mag Kitt on.

“Isn’t it better if he has some help in there?” She called down to Lance and Parm. Wyldfyr sped off after the Dragon of Legend before they could respond.

“Uh, yes, I suppose.” Parm said to the air after she left.

“Now we’re all alone out here.” Lance said to Parm. Parm glanced around, realizing that they were indeed alone, save for their dragons. “Oh, my.” He said.

Artha and Beau thundered recklessly past the gear which was maintaining the doorway. The vibrations in the ground shook it, and the lights winked out as it rolled to the side. As it laid dead, the entrance to the Shadow Track began to close. Beau’s eyes widened in surprise. “The doorway, it’s closing! Faster!” Artha said in surprise. Beau snorted and increased his pace.

“What? No!” Kitt cried atop Wyldfyr as she noticed the shrinking entrance. Beau gave a mighty effort and leapt through the entrance just as it snapped with a close. Kitt pulled back on the handles and Wyldfyr slid to a stop just before the now solid rock-face. “Artha?” She said, though she knew no answer would come. A slight wind howled past her ears and kicked up clouds of dust. To her surprise, an eerie chuckle drifted along with it. She looked at the eastern side and saw Cain, mounted on Coershun. His shoulders were shaking faintly. All Kitt could do was whisper an unbelieving no to what she now knew. It had been a trap.

*
When Beau landed, he skidded for a few more feet before he came to an absolute stop. Artha and he looked back. “Woah, now that was close.” Artha breathed. Beau silently agreed. Artha turned his attention to what he came for. The Dragon Booster couldn’t dwell on things that were in the past and not accomplish what had to be done in the present. Artha took in a sharp intake of breath as he realized his first dilemma. He couldn’t find Moordryd. The Shadow Track ran on before him in an ominous series of passages. It was easy to get lost. He glanced down one, and then another. Beau stared hard down each one too until, finally, he saw Decepshun’s tail disappear around a corner. A victorious glint entered his eyes, and he trotted to the place. “Nice going, boy.” Artha praised. Beau grinned.

*
When the Dragon Blunder had jumped into the track, Moordryd immediately went down a random chosen passage with the scanner held up before him. He definitely did not want to run into any active draconium. That was the Dragon Booster’s job. He glanced behind him. The Dragon Booster was no where to be seen. His eye’s narrowed in frustration. He urged Decepshun back to the beginning of the opening, and peeked around the corner. To his utter annoyance, the Dragon Booster was looking down every other passage way trying to find him.

“For dragon’s sake…” He silently muttered. He nodded to Decepshun, who scraped her claws on the ground to make the idiot look in his direction, then made sure her tail was clearly visible as she reentered the passage. Moordryd listened carefully and was relieved to hear the Dragon of Legend amble in his direction. “Let’s just make sure he doesn’t come too close, or doesn’t lose us.” He said to his dragon. Decepshun nodded.

As Beau picked up his pace, Decepshun went faster too, which concerned Moordryd. They were nearly galloping around the corners and turns by now. If there was any functioning draconium hidden around the bend, there would be no time to stop.

Beau looked on in annoyance as Decepshun barely remained in his view. “They know we’re following and we’re getting in too deep. Let’s end this chase now!” Artha whispered to Beau. Beau agreed with Artha. They were too deep into the Shadow Track, and it was hard to know their location with all the twists and turns. Getting lost was much too easy.

Beau roared and sprang forward around a bend. Decepshun glanced back and hissed as Beau leapt behind them. “What? Go, girl, go!” Moordryd said after his brief pause of surprise. He had been hoping the Dragon Booster would stay behind until he actually found the draconium. Unfortunately, the scanner picked up nothing, and the track remained dead before him. Decepshun bounded down a narrow channel. Moordryd had to duck to avoid scraping his helmet on the ceiling. Beau followed close behind. Moordryd was beginning to wish he had brought more gear than the white rappel and red thruster he had on Decepshun. Perhaps he should have taken along some green ramming gear, it might have been useful.

Moordryd let Decepshun choose the passages while he frantically searched with the scanner. He swept it from side to side, with no luck. Was there even any working draconium? How big was the Shadow Track? Decepshun ran into a large chamber. Moordryd gasped as he realized there was no other way out. Decepshun halted at the other end of the cavern and turned to face the Dragon Booster. Moordryd tucked the scanner into his jacket.

“Nice for you to stop. Let’s talk shall we?” The Dragon Booster said while Beau held up his head to show his authority. Moordryd glowered at the hero as Decepshun took a step backwards.

Moordryd decided to play stupid until he decided what was the best way past was. “How did you find out about this?” He yelled back with mock anger. The Dragon Booster chuckled.

“It’s my little secret, Paynn.” He turned on a more serious tone and pointed his finger at the Dragon Eye. “What I want to know is, what does your father plan to do with black shadow draconium?”

“What he’s going to do with it is none of your business.”

“I think it’s very much my business.”

“I think you should start minding your own business.”

“Well I think neither of us are leaving until you tell me.”

“I think you think too much of yourself, Dragon Blunder.” Moordryd sneered back as he emphasized the last part.

“This is your last warning before I put the pain on you, Paynn. What does Word want with black shadow draconium?” Beau took a threatening step forward and growled.

Moordryd and Decepshun were unfazed. He sighed. “Fine,” he said as he showed his empty hands. “It doesn’t matter whether you know or not.”

“I very much doubt that,” Artha retorted.

Moordryd chortled. “You won’t be able to foil him this time. My father’s plan is unstoppable.”

“Like the rest of his so called ‘plans’? What is it?”

“My father plans to…blind you!” Moordryd said suddenly as he held up his flash stick.

“Flash stick!” Artha yelled as he heroically stated the obvious. The white hot light filed his vision, and he was only dimly aware of being pushed to the side as Moordryd made good his escape. “Beau.” Artha said as his dragon staggered a moment. Beau shook his head to rid himself of the spots that strayed in his eyes. A few precious seconds later, and the Dragon Booster was back in pursuit.

Moordryd chuckled again as he noticed the Dragon Booster once again behind him. He heedlessly maneuvered Decepshun around a corner. He gasped as the screen on the scanner in his hand sprang to life. Showing up in bright white in the screen and laying right across his path was the draconium, and he was headed to it quickly. “Jump, girl. Jump as far as you can!” Unable to see the scanner and the danger it displayed, she snorted in surprise, but jumped, nonetheless. She knew about the dangers, and it was her quick reaction that saved them.

Moordryd hung on as he looked down at the ground as Decepshun leapt. They sailed right over the active draconium, and landed safely on the other side. She screeched to a halt and stood, panting. Moordryd let out a breath he never knew he held. He looked back at where the draconium lay, or should. It looked no different than the rest of the track, which made it easier for the Dragon Booster to walk into. A noise caused him to look up.

“Stop right there!” The Dragon Booster said as he stood glaring at Moordryd.

“I don’t believe this!” Moordryd whined softly as he realized that the hero was only a few steps from the draconium and not moving. Decepshun hissed and moved backwards a couple of steps, taunting Beau.

Beau advanced a couple of steps before stopping suspiciously. Something wasn’t right. He growled in impatient frustration. “What is it?” Artha asked softly as he leaned over to look Beau in the eye. Beau didn’t answer, as he himself didn’t know what was wrong. He only knew he could sense danger, and it wasn’t the duo before him.

Moordryd’s grip on the handles tightened with irritation as Beau stopped and sniffed around. The Dragon Booster shot Moordryd a suspicious look. Moordryd could almost see his mind uncovering the reason why he was really here. “Time to finish this.” Decepshun took the time from taunting the Dragon of Legend to quickly shoot him a questioning glance. Moordryd pressed hard on the button for his white rappel gear. It shot out and clutched Beau on the chest.

“Wha?” The Dragon Booster said in surprise. Moordryd grinned and Decepshun started to retract the gear, pulling Beau towards the draconium. Unfortunately, he only slid a few inches before planting his feet firmly and holding his ground. Now he knew something was really wrong here. He growled and with a great effort, took a step back, pulling Decepshun ahead.

Her eyes widened, and not wanting to be undone, retook her ground, yanking Beau back to where he started. Beau stared at her in surprise. He threw his weight back and pulled as hard as he could. Decepshun, in return, pulled as hard as she could. The line of the rappel gear vibrated with tension, threatening to snap. It wasn’t made for tug-of-war with dragons.

Artha and Moordryd merely hung on and cheered for their respective dragons. “Come on ‘cepshun, pull!” Decepshun lowered her head and tried to get a better footing.

“Beau, you can do it!” Encouraged, Beau started to gain the advantage, sliding Decepshun forwards. “Yes!” Artha cheered. He saw Moordryd glare at him. Artha thought he saw panic in his glaring, grey eyes. If that were so, Moordryd was apparently trying to pull him into something. But what? There was nothing in front of him. He looked around. There was nothing to the side or on top.

Moordryd noticed the Dragon Booster glance around as Decepshun slipped forward another inch. Her claws scraped on the ground. He held up the scanner, careful not to let the Dragon Booster see it. A few more feet and his dragon would touch the draconium. Time for red thruster gear. He flipped open the cover over the button and pressed. While he reversed them, Decepshun invoked the Vysox. With her eyes glowing red, it was easy to drag the dragon on the other end of the line.

“Beau, come on!” Artha called as Beau grunted in exertion and surprise. They were being pulled to an unknown danger, and if Artha or Beau had been aware of what it was, they would have been quicker to pull themselves free of Moordryd’s grasp. Beau’s claws scrapped on the floor as he slid forward.

Under her heavy expression of fatigue, Decepshun grinned in victory. Moordryd’s sudden laugh worried Artha. Had Moordryd succeeded? Succeeded in what? Decepshun stopped pulling, as there was no need now. Moordryd held up his scanner in full view of the Dragon Booster. In the screen, Beau was standing right where the active black shadow draconium lay.

Moordryd laughed again, as Artha stared in puzzlement. What was he holding and why did it make him so happy? Tremors in the ground caused Artha and Beau to look around worridly. Chunks of rock fell from the ceiling as the track shook. Huge pieces barely missed hitting Artha.

“Hey, Dragon Loser!” Moordryd called. “Have fun with the shadows!”

“Nooooo!” Artha screamed before it was cut off by the draconium which now encased him. It snaked up from the ground and covered Beau and Artha at a horrific pace. Moordryd gasped as he saw the draconium climb along the rappel gear which still connected the two dragons. Decepshun noticed this and quickly fired a mag-blast, breaking the line. It fell like a rock and hit the ground with a dull thud. Then the track grew still.

“Wow.” Moordryd gasped. “Nice going, ‘cepshun.” He patted her head as she basked in the compliment. He retracted the rest of the line, and smirked at the Dragon Booster’s still figure. Decepshun snorted at the motionless Beau. He had finally done it. The Dragon Booster was helpless. He noticed that a huge chunk of active draconium had fallen from the ceiling in the quake, and was within his reach. This should be enough to please his father, he thought. He carefully mag-pulled them and placed them into a safe box, which he had brought along just for this. He closed the lid.

“Well done.” Came a deep voice. Moordryd instinctively reached for his amulet.

He held it up. “Did you doubt me?”

“There is always room for error.” Moordryd contemplated this as Armaggeddon continued, “Now that the Dragon Booster is gone, events will pass quickly. Your father will be eager to take control of the city, lest the Dragon Booster somehow comes back. Which is very doubtful.”

Moordryd smiled and chuckled. “Now there is no one to stop me!”

“The Dragon Booster is gone, yes, but there are other obstacles you will have to face. Never think the way will be easy. You will face grueling challenges, and eventually, you
will have to take down your father. He will stand in the way of your destiny.” Moordryd slowly lowered the fiery amulet as he listened to his teacher. “But,” Armaggeddon said suddenly, causing Moordryd to hold the amulet back up. “With my teachings, you will be able to accomplish this.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I can sense enormous potential in you, Moordryd Paynn. You will become a great mag warrior.”

“Greater than the Dragon Booster?”

“Yes, far greater.” Armaggeddon’s fiery eyes glowed in furious pride at having found a worthwhile student. Moordryd smiled.

“Greater than you?” He ventured to ask, not expecting any agreements.

“Yes.” His answer shocked Moordryd.

“What? Really?”

“Listen to me and train hard, and you will become the greatest mag warrior of all time. Far surpassing anyone. You are very advanced, my student. Nothing will be beyond your reach. With time, you will view me as a rookie, a mere novice compared to what you will do.” Moordryd stared hard at the amulet in his hand. Was he telling the truth?

“Are you su…”

“For now, race. Quickly return, time is running short. There is not enough time, I fear, for what we must accomplish.” The burning eyes died out and Moordryd was left staring at the amulet. Greatest mag warrior of all time? Not just this era, but all time? It couldn’t be possible. He couldn’t accomplish that, his father had always said…. Moordryd frowned. His father knew nothing of his potential. He grinned manically and turned to the Dragon Booster.

“You hear that? You hear? I will be the most powerful warrior the world has ever seen! No one will be able to stand in my way. You’ve failed, and I’ve won, Dragon Booster! Finally, I’ve won!” He shouted at the statue. His shoulders shook with hysteria. “I’ve got a race to win now. See you, Dragon Loser! Maybe I‘ll come back and visit!” He laughed. And to his dragon he said, “let’s go, Decepshun!”

She gave a quick roar, adding power to Moordryd’s words and bounded over the draconium and past the Dragon Booster. Which frightened Moordryd, since the scanner was in his hand and she couldn’t see the draconium. She landed safely, and ran on. But before they rounded the bend, Moordryd pulled back on the handles and glanced back at the frozen hero. All rage and frenzy gone from his system, he looked back. The draconium surrounding him glistened eerily. What would happen to the world without the Dragon Booster? He knew his father would start another war. Without the Dragon Booster, that was very possible. No one would be there to stop it, or unite dragons and humans. But Armaggeddon’s plan would work, and Moordryd would control the second Black Draconium Empire. He was breathing normally once again, and continued staring at the world’s only hope of freedom.

Decepshun shook her head in impatience. She was eager to win the race, provided they got there in time. “Hey!” Moordryd said as he nearly fell from the saddle. “Alright then, let’s go.” Decepshun smiled in victory, and trotted off. Suddenly, from behind came a clatter. Moordryd quickly snapped his head around. “What?” Moordryd said loudly as he looked for the Dragon Booster. Could he be free already?

His voice bounced back to him in an echo, as he saw the Dragon Booster where he had left him. The hero was still frozen in his surprised and fighting pose. Moordryd glanced around the track. The draconium glinted in unnatural silence as isolation pressed down hard around Moordryd. What had made the noise? His heart thudded in his ears. Was there something else out there?

He breathed a sigh of relief as he glanced down. Not too far away lay a bomb, which must have fallen out of his jacket. It was the most powerful bomb he had taken along with him. He glared at Decepshun and silently blamed her for causing it to fall. When she noticed the bomb and his glare, she purred and pretended not to notice as she turned her head and surveyed the track in the opposite direction. Moordryd sighed and started to get off his dragon, then paused. He glanced back at the Dragon Booster, then the bomb. All the Dragon Booster really tried to do was help people. Time was running short and he didn’t have time to pick up the bomb. At least, that’s the best excuse he could come up with. He left the bomb, and pushed forward on the handles roughly. Decepshun leapt away down the tunnel immediately.

At first, Moordryd panicked when he realized he hadn’t paid much attention when they were running in the Shadow Track. All the tunnels and corridors of a crystal purple looked exactly like the last. Decepshun smirked and ran through the maze with ease. Unlike her rider, she had the sense to remember where they had came from. Moordryd let her take control, as he trusted the long, confident strides she took. All the same, he eased his tentative grip on the handles when the door finally came into view. He smirked and urged her forward. She took a few steps, then stopped and growled softly. “Come on. Go.” He said, becoming agitated. They were almost out. She ignored his persistent pushes on the handles and refused to move.

Moordryd looked ahead. There was nothing different about the track before them, unless…. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the scanner. Dazzling white flooded the screen. His father was right. The Shadow Track was growing at a very fast rate. The active draconium barred his way from the exit. “Think you can jump that?” He called to Decepshun, and let her view the scanner for a moment.

She snorted at the ease of the challenge. With a powerful leap they were on the other side. Quickly, Moordryd planted a few bombs around the exit, and timed them. Decepshun flicked her tail from side to side, eager to be out in the open air again. “Done.” He said. They jumped through the seemingly solid doorway, and soon, a welcoming haze of grey sky and a warm breeze greeted them. He paused and planted the last of his bombs on the cliff near the entrance. Decepshun aided him by magging him to the high places.

“Hurry!” He said as he landed back onto the saddle. She ran out into the clearing, away from the impending explosion.

*
“Artha! Artha, pick up!” Lance wailed into his wrist-comm. Parm sat nearby on Cyrano, worriedly watching the youngster. “Artha!” Lance nearly hollered.

“Hush!” Parm whispered fiercely, holding a finger to his mouth. “Do you want Cain to hear?” Lance looked at the still figure on a rise in the ground on the eastern side. Cain was still mounted on Coershun, watching Kitt, who was pacing in front of the Shadow Track’s closed entrance.

“No.” He said against the lump in his throat.

“Don’t worry, Lance. Artha’s been in there before, and the Shadow Track is broken.” Parm said in a calm voice which surprised even him. “He can deal with Moordryd easily. I bet he’s coming back out right now!” Parm motioned extravagantly with his hands. Lance nodded. He remembered the Shadow Track. That desolate tomb. Lance thought about what Parm had said.

“He’s probably got Moordryd by the pants and dragging him out here.” Lance piped up.

Parm smiled. “Of course he does. He’s the Dragon Booster.” Lance smiled gratefully in return as Fracshun nuzzled him. A voice caused them to turn to the clearing. It was Kitt.

“Come on, Cain! How do you work the gear?” She shouted up to him. She had the gear in her hands, and was turning it over and over. Parm had looked at it earlier and couldn’t figure out how it did what it did. It was a technology that far surpassed his knowledge. He couldn’t even turn it on. There was probably a very easy way to activate it though, despite its complexity. Moordryd had been able to do it. Parm knew it was hiding under his nose, but he just couldn’t figure it out.

“Cain!” Kitt said, holding the gear above her head with one hand and glaring defiantly at him.

“I can’t hear you!” Cain’s voice drifted lazily back to her. She nearly snarled. She would’ve gone up there and forced him to tell her, she knew she could do it, but it was impossible to reach him. Cain had made sure he was safe from anyone or anything that tried to reach him. He was on a hill with extremely steep sides, and it was a piece of cake for Coershun to throw a mag-blast at whosoever attempted the climb. And being a bipedal dragon, the task was made ever harder for Wyldfyr.

“CAIN!” Kitt yelled in exasperation. Cain’s erratic laughter floated its way down. He wasn’t telling her anything. He couldn’t if he wanted to. He didn’t even know how it worked.

Kitt rolled her eyes and Wyldfyr hissed. Not at Cain and Coershun, but at the Shadow Track. Parm, Lance and Kitt all raised their eyebrows in surprise. Moordryd was on Decepshun, galloping away from the track at a high speed. Kitt glanced eagerly to the track, expecting Artha to come riding gallantly in hot pursuit. Wyldfyr took a hesitant step towards the track.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion rocked the air. Hot chunks of rock and air slammed into her, throwing Wyldfyr to the ground. Cain and Coershun slipped down the slope and followed Moordryd. Cyrano hid behind a huge fallen column and Fracshun quickly magged Lance on and hid behind him.

Wyldfyr painfully rose back to his feet and tried to stay there. Tremors running through the ground from the explosion rocked him from side to side, threatening to make him fall down. Kitt readjusted her helmet. “Art…ah…Dragon Booster!” She yelled, then gasped in horrific shock as the side of the cliff above the track fell. Shock waves ran through the ground as the stone hit the soft earth. Wyldfyr braced himself against it and managed to stay on his feet. Dust hung heavy in the air as both dragon and human alike coughed. Kitt waved her hand in front of her face to clear it. She squinted at the track, trying to penetrate the thick filth. Parm and Lance peeked from behind the column.

As the dust cleared, they saw the new terrain. Where the once proud and ill-omened gateway to the track stood, now lay an impassable mound of rubble. The entire side of the cliff had fallen.

Lance’s gaze swept the carnage. “Artha!” He yelled oblivious to the fact that Moordryd and Cain might hear. Parm didn’t stop him, he only stared in dread.

Kitt searched the new mound of enormous chunks of rock and dirt. She saw no opening and no Artha. “No.” Her whisper was lost in the steady breeze that carried the dread they all felt.

“No!“ Lance and Fracshun came out from behind the pillar and arrived at her side. Parm followed soon after on Cyrano.

“How are we going to get through that?” Kitt demanded of the others.

Parm looked at her incredulously. “Get through that? Oh, I don’t know. But maybe it would be possible if we had nearly a hundred earth class dragons to move it! I mean, look at that! The entire cliff came down!”

“Then we…we call Connor.” Kitt said. Lance sniffed, and for his benefit, Kitt said to him, “Artha’s okay.”

“How do you know?” He looked up at her with worried eyes.

“Artha may be an idiot at times, but he’s not stupid enough to walk right into an explosion. He must have stayed clear. He’s probably waiting for us to clear the entrance so he can stop Moordryd…argh!” She slapped a hand to her helmet. “Moordryd! We can’t let him get those samples to Word!”

“But we can’t leave Artha!” Parm said and Lance nodded.

“Uh…you guys stay here, call Connor and get Artha out. I’ll stop Moordryd!”

“Alright then…” Parm said. Lance and he looked at each other worriedly.

“Hyah!” Kitt said as Wyldfyr took off after the two Dragon Eyes. All too soon they were out of sight, and only the dust trail Wyldfyr had kicked up told of their presence there. Lance contacted his father and Parm looked about worriedly as he realized that now they truly were alone.

*laughs* I don't know about next chapter, but you were right. I liked this chapter more. Incidently my renewed intrest in reading coincides with me getting blocked on "Her Cunning Plan," which is terribly weird but makes terrible sence.

The only problem I have is that you use "Mag-blaster." It doesn't sound good, it doesn't sound intresting or imposing or anything. You could call a mag-cannon (especially a small hand held one) a mag-blaster. The word carries very little conotation with it. "Mighty Mag-Blaster" or "Mighty Warrior?"

See?

Yay! Constructive criticism! I hope this isn't a double post, but thanks for the tip. I was wondering whether mag-blaster worked as well. I love your ideas, but maybe the Greatest Mag Wielder ever? ^_^ Or the Greatest Mag Warrior of all time?

No a double post is when two replies that orginate at the same person are right next to each other. I don't know about the exact text of a rule but I assume that in practice you catch a break if it's fanfic part-fanfic part or reply to review-fanfic part

Mag weilder is a bit better, still lacking on conotations. Yes at least there's an implication that its a person, but what if he's weilding the mag energy to move stuff around and build something? I bring that up because I hear "weild" and I almost instinctivly think "weld."

Mag Warrior works

Thanks again for the advice, and here's chapter six. :dance:

Chapter 6: The Downfall of Dragon City, Part I

Moordryd checked the time again. Five more minutes. Decepshun slowed down and stopped at the Dragon Eye tent at the track in Mid City. Moordryd smiled. His father would be pleased. Cain rode up beside him.

“She caught up. Again.” He said, referring to Kitt. Moordryd looked behind him and tried to see past the mill of people preparing for the race. Cain noticed this. “She’s not here yet…”

“Then she didn’t technically catch up, did she?” Moordryd interrupted.

“Uh, no.” At Moordryd’s glare Cain continued in his defense. “But she’ll be here soon.”

“When?”

“A few minutes, if we underestimate her.”

“Good.” Moordryd said. Cain looked at his boss questioningly. “We wouldn’t want her to miss her race now, would we?”

“Course not.” Cain said and grinned.

“The black shadow draconium can wait till after the race. The important thing is the Dragon Booster won’t be haunting our steps anymore.” Moordryd patted the box which held the dangerous samples. Then he paused as if in thought, and continued, “did you happen to see Artha Penn?”

“Where?”

“At the Shadow Track with the other brats! Where else?” Moordryd haughtily shot back. Kitt had been there and the rest of the Penn Racing Crew. If Artha had been there, he wouldn’t make it back in time for the race. Cain was undaunted by Moordryd’s tone and narrowed his eyes in deep reflection.

“Well, I remember seeing Kitt,” he mused while Moordryd sighed in exasperation, “and the little kid and the professor. But…” Cain scratched his head, “Penn wasn’t there.”

Moordryd dwelled on that thought. “Have you ever seen him with the other brats and the Dragon Booster?” Cain shook his head slowly, going through each of their meetings with the hero and trying to recollect whether Penn had been there or not.

“Strange.” Moordryd said, then laughed.

“What?” Cain asked, not grasping what was so funny.

“Penn must be a bigger yellow-bellied newt then we thought. If he won’t even help his friends stop me and my father…what does he do? Stay home?”

“But if he wasn’t there, he’ll be here for the race. And Decepshun’s energy is pretty low.” Cain pointed out. Moordryd glared at him. “And if Kitt races…”

“I’ll just have to beat both of them, won’t I?” Moordryd tapped Decepshun lightly on her head, and she lowered her head to let him dismount easily. Cain watched as Moordryd hefted the box in his hand. “Call Swayy, Blarre and Rancydd. Have them guard the tent. The box stays in there until I can get it to my father.” Cain nodded in approval and activated his VIDD-screen to contact Blarre. Before Moordryd was able to take more than one step towards the tent, his wrist-comm blinked.

“What now?” He muttered. He really needed to get to the race. His father appeared in the screen, not surprising Moordryd. He knew his father would be anxious to hear of the day’s events.

Word paused and looked past his son, noticing that he was in Mid City. “Where’s the Dragon Booster?” He said with an anticipating smile spreading across his face.

“Where do you think?” Moordryd replied. “Trapped, just as you planned.” Word frowned at his son’s arrogant attitude.

“And the draconium?”

“With me.” Moordryd replied. Word’s frown turned into a smile once again. Moordryd hesitated before continuing. “You should really stop doubting me. It was easy.”

“I’m sure it was.” Word said sarcastically. “Bring the draconium to me now.”

“But I’m racing now.” Moordryd said through gritted teeth.

“No, you’re standing and talking to me. Bring it to me right now. There is no race.”

“No race?” Moordryd queried. He looked around. Not too far away, by the Grip of the Dragon’s tent, was Phistus. He mounted his dragon and headed for the track. Moordryd then glanced at the Flare of the Dragon tent. Pyrrah was having her dragon mag on some red thruster gear. Probably high level thruster gear. He heard someone grunt in disapproval, and saw Wulph ride by on Hyve, who spared the time to look at Moordryd and Cain the way he would at a slug. Cain sneered back. They, amongst all the other racers, were preparing for the race and were headed to the track.

“Racers to the starting gate! Race time is less than 30 seconds away folks! Get ready for one of the fastest, most challenging…” Race Marshall Budge droned on in his usual excitement filled announcements.

“The race is about to start!” Moordryd loudly said into his wrist-comm.

“Hardly. Now that the Dragon Booster is gone, my plans can go unchallenged.” Word said. Moordryd remembered what Armaggeddon had said. With the Dragon Booster gone, his father would accelerate his plans. His scorching voice still lingered in his ears. There is not enough time, I fear, for what we must accomplish.

“What plans?” Moordryd asked worriedly. His father’s plans might get in the way of his own.

“Moordryd, you must remember to thank me later.”

“For what?”

“For giving you the opportunity to remain unharmed by my plot.” Moordryd looked at his father’s gleeful eyes. “Mag off all gear Decepshun has on her.”

“Why?”

“Because, for the past few years, I have planted mind control devices in each piece of gear Paynn Incorporated has sold. My company is the largest gear producers on the entire planet. Thousands have my gear.”

Moordryd was taken aback. “You’re going to…”

“Yes. Within seconds, I will have thousands of wraiths at my beck and call.” Word said, delighted with himself. “And my wraiths will come and capture those humans and dragons who have managed to be unharmed by my plan with mind control gear. Very few will evade this fate.”

“But why didn’t you do this last week or last month?” Moordryd questioned.

“Because, the Dragon Booster wasn’t destroyed. I couldn’t have him rising an army of dragons that haven’t yet been affected by my gear. The Dragon of Legend truly is power. He may have been able to stop my army.”

“How could he possibly have stopped thousands of wraiths?”

“Never underestimate your enemies, Moordryd Paynn. Remember that.” Word lectured. Moordryd silently promised he would. Never again would he underestimate his father.

“Why now though?” Moordryd persisted in questioning his father. This was all happening too fast. The war would begin within minutes. He didn’t have enough time to train or to carefully lay out his plans. Armaggeddon was right. Things were really happening too fast.

“Moordryd, what is happening in Dragon City today?”

“Thousands are going to turn into wraiths?”

“Besides that.”

“I was supposed to race?”

Word rolled his eyes and sighed as he put a single claw to his forehead. “The final elite race is today. The final race for their season.” He barked as he looked at his son in frustration. “Do you know how many people flock to these races? Hundreds, possibly thousands. All final races for all levels of the academy and elite racers are today. And it is on this day, that all these dragons are using gear. No other day has this many dragons using gear at the same time. Even those not racing, put gear on their dragons in the spirit of the event.” It was true, Moordryd had to agree with him. The city streets were jammed. Cain and him had spent nearly an hour in total simply waiting for the streets to clear and for standstills to ease up as they came back into Mid City. The most exciting races all season were happening now, and people from all over came to see it, as they did nearly every year.

“Unmag all your gear and bring the draconium to me.” Word said, now getting impatient. “Do not be late.” And with those final words of warning, Word terminated the connected and Moordryd’s screen died. Moordryd stared at his wrist-comm, then looked up to Cain. Cain had a mortified expression on his face and stared back at Moordryd. They were both thinking the same thing. The war was about to start. It was Blarre’s impatient whining from Cain’s VIDD-screen - he had been calling her and had evidently left her hanging as he listened to Word - that snapped Moordryd out of his shock. Hesitation was a killer.

“Unmag all gear, now!” He shouted and Decepshun and Coershun quickly complied. Their gear clattered as it hit the ground. “Cain, tell everyone else to unmag all gear as well.” Moordryd said. Cain nodded and tried to explain the situation as best he could to Blarre. Moordryd sighed in relief as Cain nodded to him to indicate that she had obeyed the urgent orders. “Call the others.” It was an order not needed, as Cain already had Swayy on his screen. Decepshun magged Moordryd into the saddle.

“Last call for racers Moordryd, Artha, Kitt and Cain. Last call.” Budge’s voice commanded. Moordryd then realized nearly everyone was looking in his direction, Budge included. “Last call.” he said directly to Moordryd from his platform. It was highly unusual for so many racers to miss such an important race. The crowd buzzed with questions, and the people that could see Moordryd looked at him in puzzlement. What kind of racer unmagged all his gear and refused to take notice of the race?

Cain was preoccupied with his vital mission, and didn’t notice. But as Moordryd’s eyes grazed the crowd and the plentiful amount of dragons that held gear, he couldn’t help but feel remorse and guilt at what was to happen to them all. Unable to move of their own free will, they would remain captured forever, prisoners in their own bodies.

“Cain, just…round up the Dragon Eyes and have them all stay in Squire’s End. All of them.” Cain nodded absently without taking his eyes from the screen. With luck, he would be able to contact all the Dragon Eyes in time. Moordryd turned and shook his head at Budge and the entire crowd before racing off with Decepshun to his father’s citadel. As they all looked on in confusion, it happened.

Moordryd urdged Decepshun to go faster, in hope of outrunning the screams that now rose all around.

*
Kitt groaned at the mill of people. They crowded against each other, each weaving their own way to the tracks. The people down here were either the ones who couldn’t afford to see the elite races, or had come too late and found all seats taken. The congestion had to be near three times as bad in Sun City. She reached the crew tents. She was sure Moordryd and Cain had gone this way.

She just had to get that draconium. She had called Connor as soon as she had left Parm and Lance. He had worriedly said that he needed to talk to Lance and Parm to figure out a way to get Artha out, but he stayed in contact with her long enough to tell her that it would be disastrous if Word got those samples. The black shadow draconium from the track was very dangerous and held too many mysteries. He feared what would happen if Word uncovered some.

Wyldfyr had raced through the wreckage of the lost city, following the deep tracks Decepshun and Coershun had left behind in their flight. But when she was close enough to see the dust trail they kicked up, Moordryd had mag blasted a huge pile of crumbled statues. They fell across her path, and she was forced to go around the pile, which took longer than she had anticipated. By that time, Moordryd and Cain had a great lead.

Mentally she blamed herself for not being fast enough to aid Artha in the Shadow Track. She also blamed herself for losing Moordryd. But blaming the crowd swarming around her wouldn’t help. They didn’t realize what was happening. She had only herself to blame.

She noticed Wulph ride by on Hyve. He offered her a slight smile, signaling how competitive the race would be. She forced a grin for him. He headed to the track while she surveyed the tents. She wouldn’t be racing today. Neither would Artha, Moordryd or Cain.

She let Wyldfyr pick his way carefully through the crowd. Suddenly, three rambunctious kids ran right in front of him, and Wyldfyr tossed his head as he abruptly stopped. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” She shouted to them as Wyldfyr calmed down. Only the last child - a short, blue haired kid - had the sense to slow down and mumble an apology. Then he dashed after his friends. As Kitt watched him go and the direction he took, she spotted them. Way in the distance, near the Dragon Eye tent, sat Moordryd and Cain on their dragons. “Ugh!” She groaned. That should have been one of the first places she looked.

She tried maneuvering Wyldfyr through the throng of people, but soon found it hopeless. The race would start in less than a minute, and all the people had seemingly waited till the last minute to get a seat. “Get out of the way!” She called down. Only a few spared her a glare for her troubles. No one else paid any attention.

Budge’s voice babbled over the speakers. “Last call for racers Moordryd, Artha, Kitt and Cain. Last call.”

“Move it!” She yelled at the nearly immobile crowd before her. Some, this time, glanced up at her. Even fewer recognized her, and tried to get others to move out of the way too. Rapidly, the word spread through that she was a racer, and more people obliged to clear a way for her.

“Last call.” Budge announced. Kitt was heading through the crowd quicker now. She looked again for Moordryd. He was still there. He climbed back into Decepshun’s saddle, and shook his head at Budge. Kitt sneered. She had to get that draconium before he gave it to Word. But Moordryd was the last person she expected to skip a race. Why didn’t he race first, then give it to Word? Or get one of his crew members to transport it to Word? That was what she almost expected to happen. Moordryd then raced off, nearly running over people who weren’t fast enough to jump out of the way. She prepared to give chase, but then she heard Wyldfyr scream.

“Wha?” She gasped. Wyldfyr roared as if in pain. He pitched his head, nearly throwing her from the saddle. All around her came roars and cries of protest from the dragons. She looked Wyldfyr over, he looked alright, but…the red thruster gear was acting strange. As she looked on in horror, she realized what was making him, and all the other dragons act so strange.

Right in front of her eyes, the gear’s colours abruptly changed. They slowly melted together to a dull purple and black. Her dragon’s colour began to change, turning to a dark purple and black. The rapid transformation began from the gear and spread outward on her dragon. Wyldfyr’s eyes then turned a dull yellow, and Kitt felt the alteration creep into her arms. She gasped as her ability to move was impaired. Slowly, the world began to turn to a deep purple hue while her mind started to fog up. Dimly, she noticed Moordryd racing directly to her on Decepshun.

Wohoho, the best chapter so far, got me pinned to the screen! My favorite part is when the Bugde calls Moordryd and he runs off filled with guilt... kinda made me sad for what happend. Man Word is a one evil cookie, great idea with this whol;e plan, sounds cannon.
I wonder what happens next, how are they going to get Artha back? The Penn crew will go inside teh Shadow Track? Or maybe Artha will share Armeggaddon's fate and get out of the track after 100 years or something. Whatever it'll be I'm positive it's going to be interesting.

Best chapter so far? Thanks! :D The downfall of Dragon City isn't over yet, and we have yet to see how Moordryd will react to this whole plan. I've added in some more to chapter 6 from Kitt's POV because the chapter looked pretty short to me and I thought it fitted in there better than in the next chapter, which I'm working on.... :plot:

Kitt's POV was great, we can see more what's happening! Did I understood correctly? Moordryd is going back? If so, maybe he is going to rebel against his father or something, I just can't wait to see more!

Come on, Liliwen! This is a great story. Can't wait for Artha and Beau to free themselves from the Shadow Tracks. :plot:

Hope you can update soon! :)

wow just got around to reading the last ....4 chapter's:P I so md that I havent beed anle to keep up :P so many good Fan Fic's!!! I hope to see more soon ..of both fic's!!.....well take what ever time you need its' probebly hard keeping 2 difrient fic's going !!
~Shearkin

^_^ Thanks. Half done both chapters for both fics right now. But I have to do homework, study, do an assignment...which I should be doing now... :plot: Chapters should hopefully be posted in less than two weeks. :)

yeah :dance: well good luck with your school!!
~Shearkin

Thanks, I still got some work to do, but here's the next chapter!

Chapter 7: The Downfall of Dragon City, Part II

As Moordryd weaved around screaming people and dragons, he saw Kitt. She was looking helplessly at him as her eyes dilated and turned yellow. He pushed down a pang of regret and quickly raced past. But as Decepshun carried him past, he shot out his hand. With a powerful push he knocked Kitt from the saddle, wondering how much help it would be now.

*
Kitt opened her eyes to see the chaos around her. She groaned and flexed her fingers, which widened her eyes in surprise. The wraith effect hadn’t lingered with her. She could move! Her moment of joy suddenly ended as she abruptly rolled to the side to avoid Wyldfyr’s crushing foot. She looked on in horror as one of her best friends bared his teeth at her. Dripping saliva, he loomed over her softy hissing through his teeth. Kitt, still on the ground, backed up hurriedly.

She shot a quick glance in the direction of Moordryd, her surprising hero. He was situated on his dragon near the end of the tents. Why hadn’t Decepshun changed like every other dragon around her? Moordryd remained a few seconds longer, than apparently relieved that she was no longer a wraith, he left. Dimly Kitt noticed Decepshun had on no gear like Wyldfyr did, the gear that took away her friend. She was sure she had seen some on Decepshun before, though.

Wyldfyr tossed his head and let out a terrifying roar which sent spears of fear through Kitt’s heart and snapped her head back to look at him. What had happened to him? He glared down at her with wraith eyes, watching her every move. He snapped his jaws, but did not charge. Kitt found herself backed up against the Army of the Dragon crew tent. Quickly, she pulled herself underneath the tarp and inside.

She stood shakily and looked at the dark shape on the other side of the fabric. Wyldfyr moved with the deadly movements of a wraith and pushed his nose against the heavy material. Kitt scooted to the opposite side as Wyldfyr started to push his head underneath the tarp. He blew through his nose, causing a thin layer of dirt and dust to rise up into the air. Kitt turned and fled through the entrance which was thankfully on the opposite side her dragon was near. She ducked and kept close to the tents and slowly made her way to the next one, which she escaped into.

She glanced back through the opening, holding the flaps close. She beheld the horrific sight. Everywhere, every dragon, was now black and purple. Yellow eyes stared out vacantly at the world around. They screamed at each other, roared at the sky and pawed at the ground.

Humans riding the wraiths acted the same. Screeching in unnatural voices, they challenged their surroundings. Kitt tried to swallow past a lump in her throat. That could’ve, would’ve, been her. If not for her enemy, Moordryd Paynn. He had saved her life, for what reasons Kitt couldn’t possibly fathom. He had help start this, she was sure. But as Lance said, Moordryd wasn’t all bad. She hoped he was right, and that that little act of aid signified something greater within him.

“Like what you see?” Came a gruff voice from behind. Kitt wheeled around, startled. She hadn’t noticed the others in the tent. Spynn looked at her from across the tent, her face and posture screaming her fear and anxiety. Marianis stood hunched in the far corner, crossed arms beneath her grim face. Neither of them had spoken. It was….

“Reepyr?” Kitt said, more than startled. He looked up at her with a dead expression on his face. “When did you get here?” Kitt stopped herself as she thought of something dreadful. “Where’s Propheci?” Reepyr only tightened his mouth in grim resignation of her deepest fears.

*
Moordryd stormed into Word’s citadel, clutching the precious box in a tight grip. He flung open the doors and marched up to his father. Word turned and acknowledged his son’s presence.

“Took your time getting here, didn’t you?” He said, a smile flickering on his face. Moordryd didn’t see how anyone could crack a smile on a day like today. “You look angry.” Word said as a matter of fact.

Moordryd grimaced and threw the heavy box on Word’s desk. It landed with a loud metallic clang, dwarfed in volume by Moordryd’s voice. “What did you do?”

Word stood as a formidable obstacle against Moordryd’s anger and the hope of Dragon City. “What do you mean? The wraiths?” He questioned. It sickened Moordryd to see the smile still on his father’s face. “Aren’t they magnificent?” Word turned back to his screens, where he was watching Dragon City’s destruction.

Moodryd looked on in shock. It had grown worse since he had left Mid City. Every single dragon he could see had been turned into a wraith and were running at high speeds. Moordryd suddenly realized that there were also people running every which way. The dragons never slowed down their rampage. He had to look away from the gruesome sight. He was suddenly glad his father had no sound along with the images.

Word looked on at the images in delight. “Watch, my son.” He said once he noticed Moordryd looking away. “Watch my conquest.”

“Conquest? Your wraiths are out of control, people are…dying….”

“That is the price of war, Moordryd. And my wraiths are not out of control, as you will see.” Moordryd didn’t want to see anymore. His father moved to his control panel, and very soon, the wraiths stopped their individual stampedes.

Moordryd looked again at the screens, then quickly looked away. Even though the dragons have stopped, the carnage remained. “Why did you let them do that if you could stop them?”

“The people must know my power.”

“So you’re killing innocent people to get your point across?”

“I do believe you’re starting to sound like the Dragon Booster.”

At his father’s mocking words, Moordryd sneered. “No. I think I sound like any sane human with a conscience.”

“How insulting,” Word said, hands thrown up in distress. Sarcasm dripped from his voice. Moordryd’s anger flared as he saw the smile still present on his father’s face. “As you can see, the city is in my grasp.”

“How is this happening?” Moordryd said, wanting to understand the nightmare he found himself in.

Word appeared delighted at having a chance to explain his plan. “The gear my company has produced for the past number of years have mind control gear within each. Red thruster gear, green ramming gear, blue tentacle gear, they all have it. This gear is different from the gear on my wraith dragons. It controls by signal.” Word smiled in self achievement. “Though the signal is not strong, it has full control of the dragon. The signal, as soon as I activate it, changes the dragon. The dragon is left helpless, in my complete control. It affects only the one dragon because that dragon is the only one close enough for the signal to affect.”

“What if someone takes the gear off the dragon?” Word frowned slightly at his son’s question.

“Well, then the signal can’t affect the dragon anymore.”

“Then it turns back to normal.”

“Do not get ideas, my son. The dragons won’t mag off the gear once it has control of them. They will fight to keep it on. And of course, you know how hard it is to remove gear when the dragon tries to keep it on.”

“But what about the people? Does the signal affect them too?”

“Yes. My human wraiths.” Word held up a finger to silence his son. “I know what you’re thinking. Yes, the human is only affected because the signal reaches them. Take them off the dragon and they return to normal.” He smiled once again. “They are under the dragon’s control, who are under my control. They will fight to stay on the dragon.” He swept his arm out at the screens. “There are too many wraiths for the unaffected humans to stop.”

“Aren’t there unaffected dragons? Not all the dragons had gear on, and not all the gear was made by you. Some were made by the competition.”

“I have prepared for that. My initial wraiths have control gear on them. They will run around Dragon City magging the gear onto the free dragons. None will escape.”

Word put out a clawed hand and gripped the box, pulling it close to him on the table. Moordryd watched silently. “What exactly are you going to do with that?”

“Many things. I will discover their secrets, the undiscovered potential this draconium holds. The Shadow Track’s secret will be mine.” Word smiled gleefully, staring past Moordryd into the future.

Moordryd ignored him and looked at the screens. So many were suffering without anyone to help. The reality of what was happening was finally beginning to sink in. He gasped as he recognized one. Swayy. She hadn’t magged off the gear in time. She was a wraith. And Dorsull, Phistus…. They were all there. They had been expecting to race, but had instead found a different mandate set out for them. He balled his hands into fists. He had to free Swayy. He wouldn’t let her stay a wraith.

Moordryd abruptly realized there was no Dragon Booster to help him or anyone else. He had locked him in the Shadow Track. He was responsible for destroying humanity’s hope of freedom. He glared defiantly at his father. “I won’t let you do this.” He said through gritted teeth. He turned and marched away, knowing full well his father was smiling smugly at his back.

*
Reepyr shook his head at Kitt’s question. They, that is, Kitt, Marianis, Spynn and Reepyr were crouched down in the tent. Shadows of dragons and humans were seen passing by on the thick tarp, but luckily none had ventured a peek inside. The commotion from before had died down considerably as the wraith dragons had ceased to attack. Now they silently and relentlessly stalked the streets.

Quick glances at the outside gave them only brief glimpses of the new world they found themselves thrust into. The old wraith dragons, as Kitt thought of them, were sprinting around, magging wraith gear onto the dragons that had escaped unscathed. But that was long past. Now the only dragons she could see in the streets were wraiths.

Kitt turned her thoughts away from the outside and pressed Reepyr again. She was sitting cross-legged beside him, Marianis on her other side. “But there must be some Prophets who are willing to help us.”

Reepyr once again shook his head. “I’m sorry, but Propheci has once again….”

“Propheci has once again persuaded the dragons to start a war, we know. According to you, he’s been doing that a lot.” Spynn shot out, sitting against a crate, elbows on her knees, head resting in her hands. She lifted her head. “Kitt said the other orange dragons locked that Propheci up.” Marianis half-heartedly nodded in agreement, not looking up from the gear she was fiddling with. Gear she had found lying on the ground in the Dragon Flare Crew tent they found themselves hiding in.

“They did, last we saw.” Kitt sighed. “What happened when we left?” She asked, turning to Reepyr.

“When the Dragon Booster and you all left, we payed no attention to Propheci. The rest of the orange dragons realized their mistakes and were ready to come help the Dragon Booster at a moment’s notice.” He smiled as Kitt widened her eyes in surprise. “Yes, I’m sure they would have done that. They were so changed.” Reepyr stared off at nothing, reminiscing.

“Then what happened? Why are they back here? What are they doing here?” Spynn shot out. Marianis raised her eyes slightly from the gear she was fiddling with, and threw a disapproving look at Spynn’s interruption.

Reepyr sighed. “For days, Propheci wouldn’t let up. He kept growling and talking to the other dragons. I’m sure it was about letting him out and about how dragons should ultimately rule the planet. Thankfully, most did not listen.”

“But one did.” Kitt said blankly.

“One always does.” Marianis mumbled into the gear.

“One did.” Reepyr confirmed the obvious. “We let him take guard at one point, not knowing his true intentions. He let Propheci out, and Propheci wasted no time in getting a human rider. Through him, he spoke to us. He spoke of the strangest things.” Reepyr paused, and Marianis set aside the gear, thoroughly intrigued. Spynn and she listened intently and Kitt waited for Reepyr to continue.

Reepyr shook his head. “He…we do not know how he knew. He told us that humans would destroy the dragons here in Dragon City. He said the Prophets should immediately come here to stop this. When asked how he knew, he simply said he was told. But he was locked up. No one from the outside spoke with him. We questioned him further and learned that a pair of fiery eyes spoke to him through the darkness.” Silence blanketed the tent.

“Fiery eyes spoke to him through the darkness? Oh, please.” Spynn said wearily. Kitt glared at her. “Sounds like a crazy dragon. It’s a shame none of the others realize it.”

“They didn’t. But Propheci spoke with such earnest, we agreed to release him and have him show us. We didn’t believe anything was going to happen, we thought he had gone mad. So with a secure escort, we came to Dragon City. At first, nothing happened, and the other orange dragons were ready to head back, then…then….”

“Word Paynn.” Kitt muttered darkly and stared at the ground. Flashes of Wyldfyr ran through her mind.

“What?” Marianis’ question caused Kitt to look up at the others.

“You mean Word Paynn had something to do with this?” Spynn growled. “I knew he was bad news, but this?”

“Word Paynn had everything to do with this. He has control of all the wraith dragons.” Kitt explained.

“He has control of the wraith dragons?” Marianis echoed in surprise. Though they all knew Paynn wanted to start a Dragon Human war, for some reason the thought never occurred to them that he made the wraiths.

“Makes sense.” Spynn muttered, slightly annoyed she hadn’t connected the dots herself.
“I mean, we all know the Dragon Eyes steal dragons on a regular basis….”

“We should’ve known.” Marianis sighed. “That jerk! Dorsull….” Her voice trailed off as she remembered watching Dorsull succumb to the wraith gear, just as he was about to race.

The small tent grew silent as everyone remembered watching their friends being destroyed of their will right before their eyes. Reepyr looked from one to another.

“The dragons,” he continued, “then listened to Propheci. He told them how humans would deceive us like they’ve done before. They listened to him.”

“What’s Propheci doing now?” Kitt asked.

“He and the other Prophets took control of their riders once again. I’ve no doubt they’re trying to convince all the remaining free dragons to join them.” Hope seemed to slide out of the tent until none remained. The silence was broken only by the guttural noises from outside.

“What can we do?” Marianis asked after an eternity.

“What can we do? What is there to do?” Spynn spat. “As soon as we leave this tent, we’re going to be picked up by the wraith dragons or one of those bumbling orange Prophets. Dragon City belongs to the dragons now.”

Marianis glared in Spynn’s direction. “There has to be something we can do. I mean, how are we going to get out of here? We cannot stay here. Sooner or later we’ll be found.”

Spynn sighed, agitated. “I don’t know. We’ll wait till the coast is clear.”

“But what about our friends? Are you just going to let them be controlled by…by Paynn?” Marianis said, her voice rising in tone. “How can you just sit here and do nothing?”

“Hey! I didn’t say I would do nothing!”

“Then choose your words more carefully next time. Because it sure sounded like you were only concerned for yourself.” The usually friendly Dragon Fish leader heatedly glared at her. Spynn opened her mouth, but no words came out. Even Kitt was surprised at Marianis’ outburst. But then again, all their tempers were rising. Marianis’ shoulders slumped, and she continued in her usual tone, “Dorsull…he…I have to save him.” She looked pleadingly at the others. “I just know I can’t do it alone.”

Her near plea for help echoed in the tent. Spynn looked ashamed. Kitt opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Reepyr. “Which is why I wanted to find you, Kitt, or any other Penn Racing Crew members.” He spoke earnestly. Kitt knew why.

“You wanted to find the Dragon Booster.” She said flatly, for it was not a question. Reepyr nodded as Marianis and Spynn looked hopeful.

“Where is he? Why hasn’t he done something?” Marianis asked quickly. Her eyes shone with new hope.

“I…know where he is.” Kitt said slowly. All the others breathed a sigh of relief, especially Reepyr. “But…he needs our help first.”

*
Parm and Lance looked at the mound of impassable rubble. Parm looked down at his calculations. “No…we…if we can…” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Connor looked perplexed from the green VIDD-screen in front of Parm. They were currently discussing the means of Artha’s escape. “I don’t think that will work.” Parm said, dismissing yet another plan. Connor sighed.

Lance shifted in Fracshun’s saddle, causing the little dragon to look up at his rider. They were both getting fidgety. The wastelands howled with bone chilling gusts of wind. Lance looked back at Parm. “Parm.” He said softly.

“Wait! We could…no, the pull of the leverage…” Parm trailed off once more, frowning slightly at his results. Lance sighed and gazed about dejectedly. He wondered if Kitt had been able to catch Moordryd. He tapped his fingers on Fracshun’s head. Frachsun chattered at Lance, who smiled mischievously in return. He was about to playfully bother his dragon further, when he heard Parm speak. “What?” Lance questioned.

Parm sighed. “I said, could you go over there and see if you could…” Lance, listening expectedly, looked up sharply as Parm stopped in mid sentence. Parm was gazing down at Cyrano in horror.

“Parm? Something strange has just happened…mag off your gear! PARM, MAG…” Connor’s hurried voice was immediately cut off as Parm’s VIDD-screen malfunctioned.

Cyrano’s eyes grew large as he was infected. Lance looked at the source of the threat. The red thruster gear Cyrano had was…acting strangely. Lance was confused. Parm threw his arms back suddenly, and the alteration that was turning the humble green dragon into a savage black brute seeped into him.

Nice one, Liliwen! Nice one! :) I like the way you describe the chaos in Dragon City.

Keep on updating! It's time to save DB, me thinks? ;)

:eep: whats' going to happen?? I thought that they maybe they were far enough away what is going to happen?? :eep: and its' not bad enough that there's wrath but now profites?! thsi is bad verry bad !!!!
~Shearkin

Thanks, and the next chapter should have even more chaos in it, as we see more of the Prophets.

:plot: Yes, Propheci has ebil plans of his own. ^_^ Next chapter is called Downfall of Dragon City, Part III! :eep: And Word, after a terrible, horrible disaster, realizes...well you'll see. :plot:

Owww!!now I want to read it even more!!!
~Shearkin

Okay, part III has been split. So the downfall of Dragon City: Part IV is coming soon. :P Part III seemed pretty long to me, and I wanted to post something. As always, reviews appreciated, even if you have nothing good to say about it. :) That horrible disaster with Word is in teh fourth one!



The Downfall of Dragon City: Part III

Kitt flinched as Marianis suddenly threw the gear she had held in her lap. “Why that little, rotten, scheming, white-haired jerk!” She shouted in rage at finally knowing the only hope for Dragon City had been tricked into a prison by none other than Moordryd Paynn.

“Marianis, shhhh.” Kitt said softly. Marianis bit her lip when she realized she had really yelled this time. Suddenly, a loud thud caused them all to stare silently at the gear she had flung in anger. They watched helplessly as it quickly rolled out of the tent.

“Nice one.” Spynn whispered. Marianis would have glared at her, but her gaze was rooted to the flap of the tent. A large, bipedal dragon had heard the commotion and had come to investigate.

“Out the back. Underneath the tarp.” Reepyr instructed. The others started to do just that, but were stopped as they saw a large shadow on the opposite side. There was a dragon right outside. There was no way to get out without being seen.

“Hide!” Kitt said, and for the moment, that was the best they could do. They scuttled behind crates and chairs and under tables. They did their best to remain unseen if the dragon near the entrance happened to glance in.

Kitt had found a hiding place between a crate and the back of the tent. The ominous shadow on the other side stalked a mere dracometer away. Only an inch thick tarp separated Kitt from discovery and imprisonment. She held her breath and stared at the ground, fearing a single motion from her would be deadly. She watched fearfully as the dragon lumbered off after a final snort at the back of the tent. Clearly it had been a wraith, she had seen the shadow of the control gear on its head. She wondered whether she would have rather it been a Prophet.

She dared a peek around the crate to look for the others. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw what was staring directly at her from the entrance to the tent. Kitt immediately froze, frantically thinking of what see could do next. The orange dragon had trust his head in the tent, and was intently peering at Kitt.

It glanced back outside, then walked cautiously in, the controlled rider on his head rocking with the uneven walk. As soon as the Prophet was fully inside, Kitt noticed Reepyr start to stand from behind the desk he had been hiding behind.

“Tryaust?” Reepyr said as he rose, chancing discovery once he knew the Prophet had seen Kitt. The orange dragon looked away from Kitt to Reepyr. The human on his head spoke.

“Reepyr?” He said in a raspy voice, the control gear on the rider’s head glinting in the faded light. “I’m glad I found you.” Tryaust took a step towards Reepyr.

Reepyr remained cautious, and didn’t move from his place behind the desk. “You were looking for me?”

Tryaust, realizing Reepyr’s evident distrust of him, didn’t move forward again. “Yes,” he said, “I have to say that…what I did was not…I apologize.”

Reepyr crossed his arms. A loud rustling caused them all to look at Spynn, who was emerging from behind a large, red chair. She stepped in front, now being the closest to the orange dragon. “Reepyr, who’s Tryaust? And why hasn’t he alerted the other Prophets?”

Reepyr stared hard at Tryaust. “I don’t know.” Spynn glared at him as best as she could while keeping an eye on the orange dragon as well.

“That doesn’t help, you realize.” She said. Kitt noticed Marianis slowly rise from behind another crate, full of damaged gear. Marianis and Kitt stood silent, waiting for either Reepyr or Tryaust to continue.

“Tryaust was an orange dragon I believed could be trusted. No matter what. I suppose I was mistaken.” Reepyr said in a soft, flat voice. He looked back at Tryaust.

Tryaust glanced momentarily at the ground, seemingly ashamed. “Reepyr, how could I have sided with you and still be of help? The circumstances did not allow for any such thing. Had I let my true allegiance show, they would have locked me up or attacked me. And what good would I be then?”

“I admit, you would be incredibly useless then.” Reepyr said with the faint hint of a smile.

Tryaust brightened. “I wish to help now. In any way I can without having my true intentions known to the other Prophets yet. I’ve been looking for you all over the city, Reepyr.”

“I’m glad you’ve found me. We could use your help.” Tryaust nodded at Reepyr’s words, eager to comply.

Spynn, unsurprisingly, interjected. “Wait, so we’re just…can we really trust him? Who is he?”

Reepyr sighed. “As I said before, Tryaust is a trustworthy dragon. I was quick to think the worst. Yes, he has sided with the other Prophets against the Dragon Booster before, but…”

“But now you’re willing to trust your life with him?”

“Yes.” Reepyr said. Spynn threw her hands into the air and sighed dramatically. Tryaust grinned.

Spynn looked at him. “Well I don’t trust you completely just yet. Take it off.”

“Take what off?” Tryaust questioned, his grin fading.

“Take the control gear off your rider…what’s his name?” Spynn glared at Tryaust.

Tryaust hesitated, not liking where this was going. He sighed heavily. “His name is Jyme.” Spynn motioned with her hands when Tryaust made no effort to mag off the gear. “But how will I speak?”

“I don’t care. I want to talk to Jyme.” Spynn haughtily shot back. Tryaust looked to Reepyr for help. Reepyr offered none, for he too, wanted to speak with Jyme. Tryaust shifted, clearly uncomfortable. Then he concentrated, and the control gear on the back of Jyme’s head lifted, and came off.

*
Lance and Fracshun stayed as quiet as they had ever been before in their entire lives. Lance and his dragon dared a peek around the huge fallen column. He was sure they had lost Parm and Cyrano back in the innumerable mounds of ancient rock and dirt. Frachsun chattered softly, and advanced a step from behind the column. Lance craned his head further. He saw nothing.

Fracshun then suddenly bolted behind a huge boulder a short distance away, and stood, quivering. Lance tightened his grip on the handles. He had to help Parm. Somehow. He had no idea how, and he couldn’t contact anyone. When Cyrano and Parm had turned into…into a wraith, Frachsun and Lance had jumped back quickly in shock. Unfortunately, not far enough away. Cyrano had fired off a quick mag blast, and knocked Lance’s communication gear out of order. Fracshun had then bolted away, with Cyrano hot on their heels. Luckily, they had been able to lose the new wraith by speed and agility. Now they were all alone.

“Do you think its safe?” Lance said to his dragon. Fracshun chattered as if to say, how should I know? “We need to help Parm.” Lance aloud. He pushed forward on the handles, and they went off to search for wraith Parm. Lance still had no idea what to do once they found him.

*
Moordryd flew out of his father’s citadel. Decepshun ran as fast as she could, which was quite fast. Now twice as fast as any other dragon, she raced through the streets, bounding past wraiths of all types. Only then did Moordryd realize how dangerous and foolhardy this was. His father mention his original wraiths would be around, magging gear onto the remaining free dragons. He hoped they wouldn’t decide to include him in their plans.

They once again took the back streets Moordryd knew well, and once, he thought he had seen an orange dragon. Of course, he had just managed to see the end part before it zipped behind a building, but he was sure it had been a Prophet. Things were just getting worse. He urged Decepshun onward.

Most of his crew were safely, or he hoped so, down in the compound in Squire’s End. Most of the wraiths were up here, gathering up the festive, race hungry crowds. He was pretty sure his crew was alright, they could fend for themselves for a time. He just had to reach Swayy.

Quite a few streets and city blocks later, suddenly, Decepshun skidded to a halt, nearly throwing Moordryd off in the process. When he was straight once more, he looked ahead. “What in the…” He started to say, but immediately stopped. The three Prophets before him turned their heads in his direction. Moordryd groaned as he recognized one.

Propheci grinned. “Another! Another dragon still under the oppression of humans.” He and the other orange dragons advanced a step. Decepshun growled back at them. “Don’t be foolish.” He said earnestly, his rider speaking the works with a gravely voice. Decepshun started to move back. She growled softly. “What?” Propheci said, slightly taken aback, then laughed. Moordryd’s eyes widened in surprise. Decepshun was talking to them! “Do not joke, dragon. Come with us, come with your kind. You see what the humans have done? Don’t choose this way of life…” He cooed, walking swiftly forward, but not so fast as to frighten her.

For a moment, Moordryd sat in the silence, waiting for Decepshun’s answer. Proph