Oh My...

After an awkward silence, Fertal spoke with some diffidence. His shy manner at first kept anyone from hearing him, but then he said more loudly: "Please stop. This is isn't right."

Fred looked at the elf. "Of course it isn't right, I am the legal bearer of the title Dragon-Hunter, given me by the King's own--"

"No," said Fertal. "You misunderstand."

"Of course he misunderstands," said Astra IX. "He's a cretin and--"

"No, no, no... please stop... make it stop... oh my...my....MY!!!!!"

Fertal screamed and pressed his hands to his head. Both groups stared at the elf with fear and trembling. He began to babble even as his screaming increased in pitch: "unexpected... dragon-slayers all... death magic smells... your tone, your tone is far from... my brothers the dragons... a sign from on High... oh my, the light... we must kill... hew-maahn... you say you've lived in the shadow of this dragon... make our job easier... anything less would not only be dishonorable... the light... oh my, its full of stars..." He screamed again and again and again and then his whole frame burst into a blaze of light! His cells seemed to erupt into waves and clusters of green and violet, his bones irradiated, his organs illuminated.

There began a noticeable sound, not a sound really but a reverberation on the physical level of sound. The elves felt it first and then the humans... it was growing and its epicenter was Fertal, or what was left of his screaming form. The humming turned to pounding, the pounding to a pelting like some oncoming train and the men and women within that cave knew that a blast was surely on its way. They ran, away from the burning Fertal, away from the light, away from that heaving, pulsating beat that could only mean death.

Fred, Astra and Checkers flew one way, one portion of the Champions another, and still another group went a third way. They did not mean to separate, but the incredible madness of Fertal's demise took them by surprise, they were unprepared, and in that instant of time they were... afraid.

Even as the groups ran they heard, no, they felt an explosion of force and might, a great expulsion of space and energy and then its equal reverse, a full and mighty inward pulling of space, time and breath - whatever had been in that space would surely not be there any longer. But even as the Champions thought upon their physics and philosophies and used their minds to try and frame a picture of what had just happened, they continued to run for they knew not if this event would occur again, to yet another of them. As for Fred, Checkers and Astra they just ran, scared out of their wits and hoping not to die.

And Belboz? He had run too... in a fourth direction, all by his lonesome, all by himself. He needed time to think, to muster a plan for his own self-preservation. He was glad for that distraction, he was even gladder if it spelt the end of a fey elf, but truth be told he had no clue as to what the hell happened to that fey elf... again, not that he minded if it was dead, but Belboz was very worried that things within his domain were quickly slipping out of his control.

1. separated and surely lost, three groups of do-gooders, a realm of malicious monsters, and one evil dragon...

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