Destined: The Six

3. That Is Not An Exit

          When the dragon burst through the door, the only thing Jeremiah could do was stand there and think, Well, that's not an exit door. And it really wasn't. Doors did not spit fire or claw at the people that tried to pass it. No, doors just stood there. The dragon did not just sit there. It, in fact, spat fire and clawed at the people that tried to pass it. 

          "HEY! JEREMIAH!" Yelled Dylan, snapping Jeremiah from his ranting trance. Dylan was the first to charge the giant reptile, before immediately getting hit to the ground. However, Dylan immediately got up and charged it again. He wasn't kidding about rock-hard skin. Jeremiah looked at the others.

          August was taking small objects out of the pockets of his PJ pants, fiddling with them and molding them together. Belle was a distance away, throwing kunai at the dragon, but her knives couldn't pierce its hide. Tamara was crouched in an athletic stance while red tendrils rose up her throat. Heather was just hiding, waiting in case someone needed healing. Jeremiah doubted Dylan would need any help anytime soon.

         Jeremiah joined the action. "Hey, Belle! Can you get me a spear?" He asked from across the room. He had no idea why he wanted a spear. He just had a feeling. Dylan chimed in, too, asking for any sea-worthy weapon. Belle threw him a cutlass, and Jeremiah a spear. Dylan fought for a second before noticing it was a cutlass.

"You got me a cutlass?" He yelled to Belle.

"Your facial hair reminds me of a pirate!" Belle defended herself rather lamely.

         Dylan gave her a bewildered look while stroking his chin and upper lip with his right hand and defending himself with his left hand. Jeremiah rushed up and engaged the shadows. Oh, that sounds cool, Jeremiah thought. Engaged the shadows. The blackness enveloped his body, preparing to defend him. He and Dylan leaped toward the dragon.

         Dylan struck its right arm, lopping it right off the shoulder. Jeremiah stabbed the dragon's other shoulder, piercing straight through. Both warriors looked in amazement at their weapons, then at Belle. "Wait!" Tamara cried out as they were about to leap again. "Check this!" A huge stream of fire burst from her mouth, enveloping the dragon's head and neck. Once the salvo subsided, the dragon stared for a moment in befuddlement. It wasn't expecting a teenage girl to spit fire. They rarely do.

         The dragon revitalized itself, now ready for anything. Then August took a revolver and shot it right in between the eyes. So, that's what August was doing, Jeremiah thought. Dylan took the dragon's increased confusion--A fire-spitting girl and a dude who can build a revolver out of pocket junk were pretty surprising--To kneel and plant his hand on the ground. The ground started shaking. A water spout shot out of the ground and into the dragon's mouth. 

         The spout lasted for a few seconds, blasting the dragon's mouth with gallons of water.  Jeremiah decided to get the final strike. He leaped towards the dragon's head and speared it straight where August had shot it. The dragon's eyes went completely black, then it crumpled to the ground. Eden looked in amazement. Jeremiah had forgotten she was even there. 

         "AWESOME!" She said, losing her official aura. She regarded Jeremiah and Dylan. "It couldn't even hit you, Jeremiah, And Dylan, that spout was the biggest I've seen from a Destined!" Jeremiah was concerned about the way she worded it. Had enemies made bigger ones? She went on to compliment Belle about being able to summon "Primordial Ivory," which is what the cutlass' blade was made of, and "Spectral Onyx," which was what the spear's tip was made of. She also raved about Tamara's fire-spitting power and August's revolver. Then she finally composed herself.

          "You can't really leave right now, you see." She explained. "You must be trained for a while first, make sure you have full mastery of your powers. Then you can exit through that door." Jeremiah raised his hand. "Will there be a dragon then?" Eden smiled. "No," she spoke back. "It won't be necessary. That dragon was just to test your abilities. I can see that they are great--greater than I originally thought." Heather then said the most important question. "Are you the only one here?" Eden simply shook her head, then dropped back into her hole. 

          The teens simply went back to chatting. Jeremiah released his shadows and walked up to August. "What did you have in your pocket that let you build a revolver?" He asked. August responded eagerly. "I always have some things in my pockets, in case something happens and we need a revolver or something." Jeremiah then asked Dylan if he could feel his skin. Dylan allowed him without question. Sure enough, Dylan's skin was hard as rock, and cold, too. Like basalt, Jeremiah thought. 

          "How much do you weigh?" he asked. "One-hundred seventy pounds," Dylan responded, also without question. That was pretty heavy for a guy of Dylan's stature and size. His skin must be magic basalt skin, made to replicate the oceanic crust of the Earth. Heather walked up to the rest of the team, interrupting Jeremiah's thinking. "Sorry I couldn't help you guys," she apologized. "A little hard to be useful without injured people or plants." Dylan piped up with a solution. "Maybe if we got you a carnivorous plant, like a Venus flytrap," He joked. Heather nodded. "That might not be a bad idea." Everyone laughed.

          Dylan and Jeremiah asked Belle if they could keep their weapons, and she nodded. "Until I'm dead, that is," To which she walked away. Dylan and Jeremiah simply plopped down on the mats from which they first appeared and talked about normal guy stuff--girls, money, fighting, girls fighting for money, hairy strangers armed with bananas. About twelve minutes on who would win between Tamara and Belle in a fight when the mats rose into twin-size beds. 

        "Eden must have realized how uncomfortable these are," August said, as they all laid on their comfy new resting places. And so, without brushing their teeth or washing their face or anything, the kids went to sleep.

        Of course, Jeremiah had a cliche hero's dream.