Talon took several moments to recollect himself, his deep breaths a spontaneous coping mechanism as much as they were necessary. Jennifer waited patiently, her smile still wide on her lips as Talonās jagged tone found its composure, "I saw dragons, red, white and black all fighting each other. It was war, but there was one dragon that stood out among the rest. He was larger, red in color with burning red eyes."
To this Jenniferās thoughts flashed back to the name mentioned in the warning on the note, Barthomel. As Talon continued to explain, his mystified voice reached her ears, breaking her from her reverie, "That one seemed to be in control of the fighting, but I don't know what dragons were on his side. They all seemed to be on their own... He destroyed villages and towns with a single sweep of his claw. I've never seen such power before. Then I saw three dragons attacking him, they were red, white, and black again. The three of them managed to kill the larger dragon, but they also perished right after, their power spent too. I didn't know that all three dragons had magic at one time, only the reds do because of the mages."
Sheād had an inkling ever since theyād last been in Skyfall but now it was almost confirmed. Jenniferās cartoony smile was almost painfully wide now. Her eyes narrowed seemingly in confirmation of her recognition. Talonās story was a tale she was more than aware of. Having sifted through untold thousands of texts in her past, one story in particular always resonated within her for the misery associated with it. That tale was the pox mark in the history of current civilisation, the dark shadow of the ancient dragon Barthomel. In years long forgotten, Barthomel was once an undisputed ruler, feared as the most powerful overlord the world had ever seen. That was until he was overthrown in exactly the way Talon had so kindly narrated.
āThe rebellion has begun and he will be born again, hu?ā she recited softly. Contrary to belief, Jennifer held little regard for the rebelās plans. By the way her sharp brown eyes sank towards the floor, it wouldnāt even be a stretch to call her jaded at the prospect.
"That's all I saw, it's time we head back to Crystacia," Talon exhaled his anxiety as he rose upright, but Jenniferās apprehension returned with a vengeance at the prospect of more flying. Perhaps he did enjoy torturing her in such a manner.
Following his example, the lithe mage straightened her bent knees and stood up, her cruel smile never failing to leave her face. āI guess itās safe to say that the rebels were trying to hide that information by coming here,ā she postulated, referring to the now bloody corpses, āBarthomel, does the name mean nothing to you?ā She asked him then, raising a thin, black eyebrow towards the young assassin. Judging by the lack of alarm from reading his fatherās note, Jennifer hardly needed to ask, but she couldnāt resist the chance to taunt him again. Opening her palms in a helpless gesture, the mage shrugged blithely then, āSeems not. Even though your father literally spelled it out for you, I must say, Iād be ashamed if I had to entrust such an important piece of information with such a lacklustre son.ā
She waited for the irritation to become clear on his face before continuing. āThe story you describe sounds like the most significant event taken right out of a history textbook, not that you assassinās have any appreciation for reading,ā again with the taunt, āBarthomel was an age old dragon, the ultimate dragon perhaps. He was so fearsome it took three great dragons to simply banish him. Now with that in mind, it should be simple even for someone like you could draw the link between the rebelās self entitled name and all the nonsense theyāve been spouting.ā
Jennifer sidled up to Talon, her supple lips stretching into a yawn as her arms wrapped around his. āAll just speculation without evidence of course,ā she mumbled, barely masking her yawn with a hand. Her head rested against his bicep like it were a pillow, feeling his hardened muscles tighten reflexively. Despite her antics, she still couldnāt erase the lack of sleep over the last forty-eight hours. āYou bloody assassinās are relentless though. Assuming I survive the flight back to Crystacia, Iāll be tapping out if you donāt mind. Magic isnāt fuelled by thoughts alone.ā