"Majesty!" blurted Tank, swiftly dropping to one knee.
"Hmmmmm," growled the old shopkeeper. "It's about time. How long has it been?"
Currently gazing at the floor, head bowed, Tank shuddered at the thought of what might happen next. He needn't have worried though, as the king let out a huge belly laugh that bore little relation to his actual human size.
"I was just pondering that very question on the way through that poor excuse of a maze you call your shop floor... Proprietor," shot back the king.
"And?" fielded Gee Tee, nonplussed.
"Well over a century by my reckoning."
Tank thought the tension had eased with the king's laugh, but hearing the two of them now, he wasn't at all sure, and until told to do so, he had no intention of getting up.
"One hundred and seven years, four months, two weeks, four days and ten hours... give or take," rolled off the old shopkeeper's tongue softly.
So softly in fact that it nearly brought tears to Tank's eyes. So that was it, he thought. The old dragon missed his friend, and felt... let down, lonely... lost. Now that Tank thought about it, it explained so much, including the bad temperedness and tension between them on that fateful day at the king's library... things were becoming a little clearer, well... just maybe.
As shell shocked as Tank, it wasn't often the king was lost for words... but this was most definitely one of those times.
"You thought I wouldn't remember? You're surprised that despite my age and senility, I still recall when you were last here... and how we parted."
For but a split second, George's eidetic memory flickered back to the past.
Scurrying along for all he was worth, he slid to a halt in front of the gorgeous new door and, thrusting the handle down with intent, set off at pace into the bowels of the shop, like a youngling with money to burn. Powered by excitement and THE most wonderful news, he felt fit to burst, desperately keen to tell the other of his two best friends. Catching his heel on a precariously stacked pile of books, he nearly stumbled, but righted himself by latching on to the fast approaching shop counter.
"Your haste and reckless abandon will be the death of you if you're not careful," drifted a velvety smooth voice from somewhere unseen off to the side.
Clad in a set of burnished leather armour, sweating buckets and panting profusely, the ex-knight of the realm turned to face his friend who'd just extricated himself from a mountainous array of tomes and magical artefacts, showering his assistant in all things supernatural as he did so.
"What is it I've told you about that... anyway?" he said, pointing and scowling simultaneously at the armour clad warrior in front of him.
"Don't be like that. I didn't have time to change."
"You couldn't spare two seconds?"
"What would I have done with my favourite set of armour? I'm not losing that, and besides... you don't really mind me coming to see you in this form. Do you?"
"Hmmm..." grumbled the master mantra maker, shooing the rest of his staff towards the back of the emporium to get on with their assigned duties.
"You seem charged full of wonder this morning, youngster."
"And you seem as grumpy as ever. Burnt your egg sacks on the gas again?"
"No I haven't, thank you very much. And I told you that in the strictest of confidence."
"I know, I know. I'm only pulling your leg."
"Which one?" muttered Gee Tee, looking down curiously.
"Never mind," replied George, "never mind."
"So what brings you here today... councillor?"
Unable to contain everything bottled up inside him any longer, he just blurted it out.
"They've voted me to be the next king. I'm the new ruling monarch. How fantastic is that?"
"They've done what?"
"I'm the new king," announced George, grinning from ear to ear.
"Why would they vote a dragon as inexperienced as you to be our next leader, I wonder?"
Smile wiped instantly away, George's look immediately mirrored that of the old shopkeeper, only slightly less prehistoric.
"I'm fully capable of stepping up and doing the job."
"I never said you weren't!"
"So what... you're jealous then, is that it?"
Newly crowned or not, he should have known better than to spout those words to the very proud being before him, and regretted them the instant they left his mouth.
"You should leave NOW... Your Majesty," the shopkeeper uttered, laden with sarcasm.
"I... I... I... I didn't... I didn't mean it!"
"OUT! And don't come back!"
"I need to return some of the magical items that you've loaned me. If I don't do it tomorrow, then I might not be able to return them for quite some time."
"You know precisely where you can stick them... RIGHT UP YOUR ROYAL..."
Never having seen the master mantra maker so angry, sensing he should leave, determined to come back and make amends at the earliest available opportunity, George, the dragon domain's brand spanking new king, turned on his heels and left without another word. That was over one hundred years ago, or more accurately, one hundred and seven years, four months, two weeks and four days.
If Tank hadn't been looking at the floor... he would have seen the king's perfectly formed, fake Adam's apple jump upwards as he swallowed, overcome by this unexpected turn of events. For the strapping great rugby playing dragon, it had got to the point where he now wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, feeling like such a poignant and personal moment that he really shouldn't be here. Worse still, perhaps the king and Gee Tee had actually forgotten he was still present. Abruptly he cringed with embarrassment as his legs, sore from rugby training last night, twinged just a little.
"What would you have had me do? Oh well, thank you very much for the nice offer councillors, but I don't really think I want to be king... maybe next time...! Is that it? Is that what you'd have wanted...? IS IT?"
Listening to the words, Tank thought the sentiment and meaning behind them would cut him like a knife, crush him like a trash compactor. But that was nothing compared with the excruciating silence that followed. All he wanted to do was rip his ears off and cast a shredding mantra on them. Lasting over a minute, but feeling more like years to the young dragon, the standoff gave him time to think about everything... Peter, Richie, laminium ball and of course... RUGBY!
Finally, the silence was broken as the king stroked his top lip, unable to look the old shopkeeper directly in the eye.
"I don't really know what to say. What could possibly make up for all the hurt I've caused you?"
There was a pause, during which Tank, still unable to see either of them, thought the king might actually turn around and leave, but it was really just the monarch gathering his thoughts, searching inside for the truth and how he felt about everything that had happened since he'd been chosen to become leader of the dragon world.
Intelligence, investigations and dubious magical practices subsequently revealed that it had all started around the turn of the twentieth century. Shady alliances, powerful promises and whispers of a new dawn forged a secret dragon sect over the coming years. A decade after its inception, the reigning dragon king unexpectedly died. With peace having prevailed for so long, there was no reason to suspect foul play and so he was, without an autopsy, returned to the earth, via the very private Royal Bereavement Grotto. During the days that followed, councillors argued and bickered, squabbled and shouted, two sides equally matched, unable to find a way ahead, lost in stalemate. After weeks of wrangling, a compromise was found, using an archaic rule of law, long since forgotten. Without his knowledge, George was elected king, both forces confident of bending him to their will. With little choice but to accept, and only able to trust Fredric, he became king and over the next two decades, dismantled the sect piece by piece, Fredric and the Crimson Guards instrumental in doing so. Although successful, it did prove to be too little, too late. During the summer of 1914, Archduke Franz Ferdinand (a dragon), heir to the Austrian-Hungarian throne, was murdered by a member of the black hand, a Serbian nationalist secret society, but in reality, the alias by which the dragon sect was known on the surface. This one key event led to the start of World War One, and one of the biggest tragedies the planet has ever seen.