Draconic Sphere Ω

Chapter 33: Don't Be Racist About Black Dragons

Perhaps only two or three seconds passed, but they seemed unbearably long.

The dragon tilted their head and widened their eyes just a degree, their expression still polite, with a touch of deadly irony.

Trembling violently, Chekhov reached slowly down to the box at his belt.

He opened it and reached in, his arm appearing to vanish down to the elbow as it went into the pocket dimension. His hand returned, grasping the sphere.

The dragon held out their – surprisingly prehensile – front foot, ready to take the Sphere.

Chekhov lifted the Sphere, still shaking violently.

The world rippled.

It started similar to what Brunhild was used to. But the ripples became deeper and more wild, like the surface of a small pond disturbed by not a pebble, but a boulder. Brunhild realised she – and thankfully, the dragon – was frozen in place.

The world rewound.

The dragon spoke backwards. The fountain repaired itself as the dragon lifted off again. The city guards, in their panic, ran back into the square and pointed their crossbows at the party.

The party ran backwards. Brunhild felt the satisfaction of punching that one city guard, but backwards. He grasped, then ungrasped, her arm.

The strange backwards play was going faster and faster. Brunhild wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn't. There was something painfully disempowering about not only being forced to watch this all, but to be seeing it out of her own eyes.

And then – they were back there, just outside the colosseum.

A group of city guards ran towards them. Chekhov started casting a spell at them.

The city guards levelled crossbows at Chekhov. Brunhild pulled out her shield just in time. Thunk, thunk, thunk, went the crossbow bolts, hitting the shield.

Chekhov finished his spell. A fireball blew all six guards off their feet.

"Healer! We need a healer!" yelled one of them, hoarsely. The others seemed to be unconscious, or worse. Lacrie seemed to want to run to them.

Chekhov grabbed her arm. "I need all hands on deck. Tell the others if you see them. We're going to fire up Valentina. Tell the others and hurry back." He downed a potion and then ran off, unnaturally fast.

Lacrie ran to the downed guards and began casting spells.

Another group of guards burst out of the colosseum. They froze for a second, taking in the scene.

"We are healing your comrades, yes?" said Kaergat, holding out his hand in the 'halt' gesture. "In return, you stay back, and give us five seconds head start. Okay, here we go. Five seconds, yes?"

Lacrie ran back to the others, and they made a break for it.

*

Perhaps because they knew where not to run this time, the group managed to avoid getting boxed in again. With the help of a new spell from Lacrie called Restore Stamina, they managed to leave their pursuers behind. Twice, they saw the batlike silhouette of a black dragon high in the sky and ran for cover until it passed. Perhaps last time, they'd mistaken it for a bird.

"We take the side street," said Kaergat as they slowed to a brisk walk. "That way, hopefully, the dragon can't spot us."

"How does this even work?" wondered Dandelion. "Are we the only ones who remembered time going backwards? Or did everyone in the entire world like, see things go backwards for no reason? That sounds gnarly."