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Vasily clearly heard Irany ask Amaru, “What incantation are you going to use?”
“I give a fuck!”
Ha Na promptly reached up and smacked him in the back of the head.
Amaru cackled like the little basket case he was. Leave it to his mate to take the tension out of the situation by cracking jokes.
Sobering, Amaru looked around at them all. “Everyone ready? Yes? Okay, on three. One, two, three.”
Vasily couldn’t see shit, of course, but he could certainly smell and feel something happening. The energy in the grotto went from kind of stale to incredibly charged. The smell of ozone, that scent of lightning just before it struck, became so powerful that it threatened to burn the hairs in his nostrils. He had to shake his head a few times just to clear it and prevent himself from being overwhelmed.
At the same time, emotion bubbled up like hot lava in his chest, enough to almost bring tears to his eyes. He hadn’t seen a major working like this in centuries, from before the war. To see it again, with all different mages from different clans, brought not only nostalgia but a fierce sense of happiness. Finally. Finally, the age of dragons and mages was recovered enough to work magic like this again. This would be a memory he’d cherish for a long, long time.
Despite not understanding what they were doing, the moment it worked was unmistakable. The subtle hum of magic and machine abruptly quit. Nothing obviously sparked in the console, but the lights along the panel flickered and died out.
People threw their heads back in delighted laughter, high-fiving each other.
Vasily smiled along with them, whispering for the camera, “They did it. They shut the system off. Finally, the Sousa and the Tupã can wake up. After five hundred very long years, they can wake up.”
First one, then several people lifted their heads. They blinked their eyes open, shifted upward onto their elbows. A few rolled promptly off, only to wobble when their knees almost gave out. Not the type to wake up easily or quickly, apparently. Amaru had leapt up, but not everyone would wake up the same.
But as soon as the dragons gained their feet, that was when Vasily realized they might have to do some fast talking.
At least a half dozen dragons woke up, took in the situation, and went into full alarm mode. They dove for the mages, forming a defensive perimeter around them.
Shit. Vasily couldn’t blame them; in their shoes he’d be reacting exactly the same. Still, how to convince them?
The dragon nearest him woke up, rolled up to his feet, and took only three seconds to get his bearings. When he saw Vasily, he fell into a defensive stance, arms up in a guard position, absolutely ready to shift and throw down.
Vasily put up one hand in a surrender position, searching for words. “Hold on. I’m not an enemy. Ice dragon, yes, but Amaru is my mate.”
He paused, looking Vasily over with new interest. “Amaru’s mate?”
“Right. He woke up first. We’ve helped him wake everyone else up.”
His voice was deep, rough from all the sleep. Dark brown eyes were narrowed with suspicion. “We? Who’s we?”
“My clan. Well, all the dragons and mages that could come help, did.”
“Why?”
A loud clap brought their attention around, back toward the opposite side of the room. Rodrigo pitched his voice to carry.
“Everyone, I’m sure you’re confused and alarmed to see so many strangers here. I assure you, we are here to help. I am Rodrigo, King of the Ice Dragon Clan. Since you went to sleep, five hundred years have passed.”
Murmuring started up, people whispering to each other in dismay. Some in disbelief.
The lightning dragon in front of him snapped around, demanding the truth from Vasily with his eyes.
“Yeah. Sorry. It’s really been five hundred years. Irany’s system had some flaws and it kept rebooting, basically. Amaru has had many, many words to say about that. None of them were clean. It took all of us to break you guys out.”
“Shit.” The Tupã dragon’s head fell back, despair washing over his expression for a moment. “But if no one came to wake us up, that means the rest of the clan who went into battle died.”
“Yeah. Sorry again. We don’t know what happened, we just know they didn’t survive whatever they were fighting.”
“Shit,” he said again brokenly.
Poor guy needed a hug. Vasily would offer one but he wasn’t sure how well that would be received. A wail echoed in the grotto. People were either speaking to each other, crying, or making sounds of disbelief. The effect was a little deafening.
Rodrigo wasn’t done. “Since you went to sleep, much has changed. A Dragon War broke out and decimated all the major clans, mage and dragon alike. We had to band together afterward to survive. We no longer are territorial. We can’t afford to be, frankly. Know that every dragon, every mage here, is your ally. We’ve been working for days to wake you back up. You will have our full support moving forward to integrate into the modern world. Just tell us what you need.”
