Holly's POV
Holly had no idea how or why she was witnessing these slices of the past, but she could see how the story had evolved and changed over time.
Dragons had poured it into a myth, covering it like a layer of bricks, creating the idea that a human had done something terrible, and then leaving out the details of what had happened to their eggs.
Perhaps over the years, dragons didn't believe - or didn't WANT to believe - that humans could steal so many without getting caught, that they could create such a complex socioty, or that humans could be dangerous at all.
The humans had changed it too, if the story from the cave paintings was their version.
Those paintings hadn't showed the cause of the Scorching.
The hadn't included any greedy humans, or tourching helpless baby dragons.
They'd tried to paint themselves as victims.
According to them, the dragon attacked them unprovoked, dragons were barbaric monsters, and that they had done nothing to be massacred.
But it was all a lie.
Nobody was justified.
Both humans and dragons did horrible thinsg, and told their own twisted tales.
History is writen by the winning side.
Only upon examining both sides of a story, can you get the full picture.
Holly's necklace chinked in the hot wind as the scene shifted, and they were on top of a cliff overlooking a city surrounded by dragons and choking in flames.
This time, Dusky didn't hide.
He lifted his head at the city, glaring at the tiny humans trying to escape the dragons soaring overhead.
"I'm glad the dragons are killing them", he said in a soft, bitter voice.
"I hope they get every last one."
Holly looked at him.
"Dusky, this isn't right. I know you're upset; you should be. But killing ALL humans can't be any better than hurting dragonets."
"Why not? They started it."
"Well, sure, but, Dusky, this happened centeries ago. The humans were wrong, I'm not trying to deny that. But this is just as bad. I mean, think about all the humans down there."
She indictated the swarm of people below them.
"Think of all the families getting torn apart.
Think of the fathers losing their sons to the inferno.
Think of the mothers failing to save their childeren from an early death.
Think of all the inocent souls who might have saved the dragon eggs if they had only known what their emporers were doing to them.
Think of all the childeren, all of the little ones, burning in those flames, leaving this world so young and early, they know nothing of the love they could have had later in life; only fire and death.
"Look, I know you're angery, I am too, but killing everyone can't be the answer.
That is murder, killing that can't be justified."
"I think it is", Duksy whispered feircely.
"They should get what's coming."
Holly felt heartstung.
But I'm human too.
Is that what he secretly want to happen to me?
She'd taken advantage of her new dragon abilities, but now she wished she didn't have them.
She could hear the people screaming in terror and fear; she could smell and taste the blood that was being carried in the breeze.
With an awful lurk, she wondered if anyone had saved the eggs still inside the cities.
Maybe the dragons thought thier childeren were already dead.
In their rage, they didn't realize that they were destorying any hope of finding them again.
Holly shudered.
The burning city faded, and they appeared on another beach, but it was still night-time, a different night-time; the moons were in different phases now, and it was raining.
A wet group of bedraggled humans were gathered by the water, climbing into boats.
They weren't very big boats; they were only oversized row boats, and looked like they could hold only a limited number of people.
Several people in the group were using paddles to push the boats away from the shore.
Others were watching the sky, armed with swords and spears, that would be of little use against dragons.
They were probably more protected by the rain, than by those tiny sharp things.
One human, in a dark, hooded cloak, stepped into the largest boat, and turned back as a box was passed to him.
Holly spotted a shimmer of large, black gloves, and crept closer to see his face.
Yes, it was Cottonmouth.
He must have been that figure in the cave paintings.
Him and this boat, here in this moment.
Holly was sure there was a dragon egg in that boat, the biggest one, she guessed, the one she'd seen him bring into the cage room.
Even after all this time, after all the destruction, and death, he still hadn't given up his plan.
WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!, Holly wanted to shout at him.
This is completely insane!
It's more than insane!
Don't you have any idea what you're doing?
Cottonmouth looked up at the cliff looming over the beach.
"Any sign of my brother?", he asked one of the humans near him.
"Sorry, sire. No word from Coyote since he rode off to warn the southern villages", she said.
Cottonmouth pressed his lips together.
"Then we leave without him."
He strode to the front of the boats and sat down, tocking the box inbetween his legs, and setting his hands flat on top of it.
Other humans scurried around to get in behind him, and puch off from the shore.
Yup, THIS is certainly heroic.
He wasn't standing alone, nobally leading them across the ocean;
instead, he sat huddled in the corner of the boat, hugging his stupid box like a little kid might hug a stuffed-animal, muttering to himself as other people did all the work getting him out to sea.
But he did have several other humans with him.
Holly stepped back to watch as they all paddled away into the surging waves.
"Maybe they'll drown on the way", Dusky whispered hopefully.
Holly winced again.
She knew at least some of them would make it.
And if the cave paintings were right (which Holly wished they weren't), Cottonmouth would be one of them, still carrying that box.
The shadow fell over them again, and left them in a sunlit jungle.
They were standing beside a rocky cliff face pockmarked with caves, and all around them, the muggy air buzzed with insects.
Holly looked around.
There were so many trees here, even more than in the Poison Jungle.
Is this Pantala?
Like, before Wasp and the Tree Wars?
Through a gap in the vines, Holly glimsed a huge, sparkling stretch of water.
It was still and elysain, entirely waveless, not even a ripple on its surface.
That must be Lake Scorpion.
Voices approuched, chatting quietly in human.
As Holly turned toward them, suddenly, a figure surged up from the ground close to her talons.
He'd been so hidden by the undergroth, that she'd nearly stepped on him, not that he would have noticed.
"Stop!", he yelled.
"Don't move!"
The two humans who'd just walked into the glade froze.
They glanced at each other, then back at the man.
He was wrapped in leaves, but Holly realized that it was Cottonmouth.
But there was something. . . different about him.
"Sorry, sire", said one of the humans.
"We were just going to check the caves for a place to hide."
"One of the night guards thought she saw a dragon fly overhead. She said maybe they followed us, and that maybe not even an entire ocean will keep us safe from them."
"She's wrong. There are no dragons here. But it doesn't matter", Cottonmouth said, one of his hands shaking slightly as he pointed to one of the others.
"I found the answer, I know how to get the dragons to bow down to me."
He sounded insane to Holly, but the humans heroically managed not to look skeptical.
After a moment, one polietly said, "Oh?"
"It's this plant", he said, runing his fingers over the leaves of a vine growing on the forest floor.
"Look. It takes over the minds of insects, it controls them."
He pointed to an ant that was crawling at the foot of the vine.
"They swallow the seeds, and when they do, they go where-ever the plant wants them to; a high place."
Cottonmouth sat up, and indicacted the overhead treebranch,
Holly squinted, and for a few seconds, she wasn't sure what she was looking at.
And then, she realized that Cottonmouth was pointing to a small ant corpse, with a Breath of evil vine growing striaght through it.
"When the ant dies, it gives up its body, feeding the plant as it grows."
The two humans looked at each other, one worried, the other desturbed, as Cottonmouth took a trowel, and uprooted the vines.
Holly felt Dusky bury himself in her scales again, as the flicker came and went.
Now they were in a cave lit by oil lamps.
The stones were rough, and the ground beneath Holly's talons wasdamp.
Out in the tunnels, she could hear muffled shouts, as though the humans were building or digging.
The air smelled faintly of rotting greenery, and the place was a mess, but somehow, it still reminded her of the cold, omonous cage room.
Perhaps that was Cottonmouth stepping brickly between the piles of vines and pots of dirt.
Or maybe it was the small creatures stuck in makeshift traps around the room.
Most of them were lizards of verious kinds, but there wwas also a monkey, and a long-feathered, green-blue bird.
And there was the dragon egg.
Holly caught her breath.
A small crack had appeared at the top of the egg, the shell was edging towards traslucent, and below the surface, she could see movement.
It was almost ready to hatch.
"Runing out of time", Cottonmouth muttered.
"Why didn't that one work? This one was interesting."
He tapped a sheet of paper he was holding, and bent over one of the chameleons, which was lying still and listless on a red leaf.
"Hmm."
He poked it with his quill, but the chameleon only blinked.
"Move."
The chameleon did not move.
Cottonmouth cursed under hos breath and looked at the dragon egg, then hurried over to the largest pot, where several Breath of evil vines rose from the dirt, and twined together.
The egg rocked slightly, and a new crack ran down the center.
He hissed, and sprinted across the room.
Cottonmouth returned with the same kind of metal stick they'd seen him use on newborn dragons.
Holly watched him tug on those large black gloves, and prowl closer to the egg.
"I don't like this part!", a voice said suddenly, high and clear, and all at once, the makeshift lab around them swirled, leaving Holly and Dusky in a blank, gray mist.
Holly glanced at Dusky.
He stared back with wide eyes.
"Who- who said that?", she asked carefully.
No one answered.
"It was the little dragon", Dusky said softly.
"The one on the throne?", Holly asked.
Dusky nodded.
"Could be", she said with a shrug.
"Stranger things have happened to us."
In the ensuing silence, a question that
had been tugging at the back of Holly's mind came to light: if she took of her necklace, would she return to Earth?
So much had happened so fast, she'd often punched the idea aside, even avoided it altogether.
But now, in the quiet, unwanted peace of the Mindspace, it was almost inevitable.
With a sudden ecstasy, she wondered why so much had been thrown at her.
Why was she brought here?
She was the last possible person who should have been chosen to save Pantala.
Her life in the real world was hard enough.
Why, WHY was SHE brought here?
Claire would have been perfect.
Claire always knew what to do.
Claire was good at everything.
WHY was HOLLY chosen instead of her?
Bird must have known that!
Everyone knew that!
Everyone was just putting their faith into a complete failar, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, and nothing to keep them from dying because of her.
Maybe I should just leave!
I should just go back home!
I'm clearly not the person they want, or the person they think I am!
The mist lifted abruptly, and they were back in the throne room.
Holly had a weird spining sensation in her head.
Was this real?
Were they back in the sea of mind controling vines?
But no, this had to be a flashback; the room looked younger, and there were no vines covering the floor.
The collums and pillard looked newly chisled, and no one st on the throne, and no plant grew at the base of it, either.
And when she looked at the floor, she realized that it was dirt, not stone like she'd expected.
Her claws sank into it, and she was surrprised by how soft and rich it was.
"This will do", Cottonmouth said, sweaping into the space.
Three humans crowded in behind him, each of them carrying something; a pot filled to overflowing with Breath of evil vines, a bag that clanked omonously, and a box, with holes at the top, that was making some very worrying noices.
Holly had a bad feeling about what was in there.
"All is as you ordered, my lord", the man with the bag said.
"Is this really going to work, sire?", the woman asked.
She was the one carrying the box, and she set it down in the center of the room with nervous caution.
"Of course", Cottonmouth said, waving one hand.
He was dressed regally again, wearing head-to-toe robes embroidered in silver, plus the gold medalions and the feathers in his hair.
Now that Holly could see his face clearly, he looked. . . . . inhuman.
His eyes were as red as blood, his skin was so pale, it was blue, and even from here, she could see the veins over his eyes.
"But I must not be desturbed. You will stay at the top of the abyss, and insure that no one comes down here while I work.
If I need anything, I will speak through you."
"Yes, my lord", the woman said with a reverant bow.
Her companion did the same.
But the third human, who had not yet spoken, set down the pot without a word.
He looked slightly different from the others, more like the ones Holly'd seen stealing the seawing eggs.
His hair was a pale shade of lime-green.
Cottonmouth narrowed his eyes at the silent human.
A moment later, the human jurked upright, and turned to face Cottenmouth.
His eyes an eerie white glaze over them, and his gaze was stiff, petrified in a blank expression.
He awkwardly fell to his knees, bowed his head and said, "Yesss, that's better."
A smile slithered across Cottonmouth's face.
The human slumped, as though he'd been released.
He stagered to his feet, and backed out of the room, bowing as he went.
The other two bowed again, and followed after him.
"Yes", Cottonmouth mused, looking around.
"The perfect place for me to get what I've always desereved."
He took the pot over to the throne and trasplanted the vines into the dirt, patting it down like a gardener who actually cared about his work.
At last, he stalked over to the box.
He unlatched the top and threw it aside.
A small dragon head popped out and hissed at him.
She didn't look like any one of the dragon tribes Holly'd seen. . . . she looked like a mix of several.
She had a green frill along her back, and petal-shaped wings like a Leafwing, but she also had orange scales like a Skywing or a Hivewing, and something about her eyes reminded Holy of Queen Glory.
"Don't you hiss at me, Lizard", Cottenmouth growled.
He unhooked a chain from inside the box, and tugged her out.
The other end wrapped around her neck.
"He calls her Lizard", Dusky whispered.
"But she doesn't like that; she wants a real name, one that comes from dragons, not humans."
"I can speak for myself", the dragonet said, in dragon, looking straight at Dusky.
A/N: I gotta admit, I'm pretty proud of this chapter.
Don't forget, Dusky was only two years old (in dragons years, of course), so he didn't really understand everthing, and we shouldn't hold him responsible for anything he might have said about humans.
Leave it to Holly get people straight; she's good at that.
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Wordcount: 2786
Renx out!