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There was a moment of freefall, a lurch in the pit of the stomach, a feeling of weightlessness. Time had stood still. They were immobilised, unable to think, incapable of breathing. Frozen. The space between the tick of a clock.

Then with a rush of blood all the senses came back to them, their lungs gasped and fingers twitched, wind rushed past them and faint countryside sounds reached their long ears.

Anar groaned, dizziness overwhelming him. His grey skin tingled.

Luci half ran, half fell, stumbling as she went, headed in the direction of the broken conservatory. "Hemlock! Victus!" she cried, reaching forward with her arms as though it could propel her faster.

Anar had so many questions.

The bright sun was still blurry, the yellow lines of its travels fading now in the sky. His vision, once fuzzy, began to clear.

He turned around, careful to pace his movements as nausea was still gripping his gut.

The Dragon was in a crumpled heap, his form shrunken and shrivelled; his scales, once crimson and gleaming, now dull and rusted. He looked like a frail pitiful creature, curled up in a fetal position, a low keening burbling from his dry lips.

"What did you do?" Anar asked, his voice laden with fear. He had his theories. What he'd seen, what he'd felt, what he knew of dragon's capabilities, they all lead to one awful conclusion.

Still The dragon cried. A song of loss. A melody of grief.

Anar recalled the same noise from Nisgarant, at the moment he lost his beloved Tri-Corn Horn Sceptre.

But Valentino had his weapons back, didn't he? Wasn't that the only thing he really cared about? Anar asked again, "what did you do, dragon?!"

"I did what I must," he uttered weakly, "I did what only I could, to travel against the flow of the universe..."

Luci came back, cradling her son in her arms, rubbing Victus's head gently between his ears, soothingly, as he bawled in distress.

"YOU!" she roared. Her eyes flashed, and her hair bounced about her shoulders as she strode dangerously towards the miserable creature. "You did this! You led the Council straight to us! You evil, backstabbing, traitorous bastard!" she walked straight past Anar and lifted an expensive boot, swinging her leg back and kicking him hard enough for an audible 'crack!'.

"Whoa, whoa!" Anar objected, grabbing her sleeve.

She turned her wrath onto him, "I warned you that dragons didn't have friends!" she screeched. "This... this thing wouldn't know a friend if its life depended upon it!"

"I'm sorry," The dragon cried, weakly, "I'm so sorry." He wouldn't move from the floor where he'd fell. It was possible that he wouldn't be moving for quite a while.

"You don't know what sorry is!" Luci hissed, her leg twitching in a threat of another kick.

Anar attempted to calm her, "Shall I hold Victus? Is Hemlock ok? I have no clue what just happened. I don't even know if I want to know... just tell me everyone is ok."

"We are far from ok, Anar! The council have fancy names for the things they do, but to put it in layman's terms, we're under a blood curse." Luci held Victus's tiny grey hand out, showing a puncture wound. "They took his blood! Everyone knows blood magic can only be performed by the most powerful of wielders. I dread to even think what cruel blade they stabbed our son with."

Victus pulled his hand back, a high-pitched whine showing his discomfort and upset. The aardvarkian child rubbed his snotty snout on his mother's sweater.

Anar's mind raced. A blood curse? The Dragon had betrayed them? And where was Hemlock?

But he already knew. His knees buckled and he faltered. Hemlock loved Victus as much as he and Luci did. A warrior of his calibre wouldn't have allowed harm to come to the child without putting up a fight! Yet Hemlock was the only one with no defence against magic...

"Hemlock..." his voice cracked.

Luci nodded, solemnly. "He never stood a chance, sweetheart. The only comfort I can give is he wouldn't have seen it coming."

He blinked, furiously. His phlegm was thick in his throat. These past years were the happiest of his second life. He had a family. He had dear friends.

All because The Dragon had resurrected him on that battlefield.

Now that same magical creature had brought about death and sadness on a level Anar had never experienced before.

"They said they were going to kill the Nightmares," he said, hollowly.

Luci nodded.

"They said they were going to kill our heirs."

"Victus's magic is gone," she explained. "He's vulnerable now. Easy pickings. Open your palm..."

He did so. There was the faintest blue haze. "Magical sanctions on a bloodline travel both ways. He's our blood. We're his blood. It's all come to an end for us."

"The dragon depleted his magic, but he didn't have to use it all up, did he, surely? What did he actually use it for?" he paused, knowing what he was about to say was ridiculous; "we travelled through time, didn't we? Did he send us 500 years into the future to skip the whole sanction thing?"

She shook her head, "you can't use magic to escape a blood curse. 500 years will pass before our family have magic again. Listen," she said, her long ears flicking. "What can you hear?"

"I hear The Dragon crying, Victus crying, birds..." he shrugged, not sure what Luci wanted him to say.

"You can always hear traffic on the highway, even at this distance," she said. "That steady hum. It's not there anymore." She looked at The Dragon, her mouth twisting with hate, clearly holding back on more accusations and insults, "you took us back 500 years didn't you?"

"Yes," he replied in a tiny voice.

"Explain yourself. I'd like to remind you that right now I could do you in with a kick to the head," she threatened, "you'd deserve it, too!"

"You don't understand how difficult it is," he whined, rubbing bony knuckles on his pale puffy eyes that no longer held any mesmerising fire within them. "I have existed across every second of time, in every dimension that ever was, alone and lonely, driven only by my desire to collect things. I needed a friend, a companion, someone to make that existence a little less miserable." He sat up, his sunken features looking even more corpse-like.

"I said an explanation, not self-pitying!" Luci growled.

"I had to save you, Anar. I knew we would be safe in the past, before the Council even existed. I sacrificed my remaining magic to be with you. I have given up my weapons, they are now somewhere I cannot physically go. If I had not acted in that very moment, Victus would have died. Don't you see? I will never have my magic if I do not have a Warlock with me. It belongs to you and your heirs now. My power will die with you. I cannot let that happen."

"You'd rather have a miserable eternity leeching magic off us, than die?" Anar asked, shocked.

"Of course! I had a choice, when the Council appeared, two different options opened to me: I could bring us here, together, facing the consequences of my actions and trying to make amends. Or, I could have returned to my hoard, eeking out my magical reserves until coldness took me and I ceased to be, forgotten and alone, surrounded by uncaring things."

"You've got a long wait until you get any magic back," Anar warned.

"And I have a lot to learn about being a good friend in that time. I'm truly sorry for what happened to Hemlock. He was a fine dinosaur. I never meant for any of this to happen. I thought I could have everything; my friends, my home, my weapons and my magic. Now look at me - I barely have anything."

Anar rubbed his long grey chin. "I've still got a bit of power," he mused, "could I bring Hemlock back?"

Luci took in a sharp breath.

"Resurrection isn't for the faint-hearted," The Dragon warned. "You've projected your mind out into the far reaches of this reality, but nothing can prepare you for the journey into the underworld."

"Anar, don't you dare! It's bad enough being stranded here in goodness-knows-when, I couldn't lose you as well as dear Hemmy. Not now. I need you." Luci's tone had changed back in his favour. Her big bright eyes pleaded.

The Dragon swung his long scaly head up to face them. His jaw was set. His shoulders straightened. "Give me the last of your power, Anar. I will go."

"What?" Anar asked, his brow furrowing.

"We need that power!" Luci scoffed. "Do you think we're stupid or something?"

"You can bring Hemlock back?"

"Don't bank on it! It's the last of your magic he's asking for, Anar. It could kill you!"

Anar's heart raced. He looked lovingly at his dear wife, at their child in her arms. It was true, it could kill him, losing the last of the dragon magic in his veins.

But all his life's decisions had led him to this.

He'd refused to carry out Nisgarant's orders, and been killed. This life had been a gift. For all Luci's harsh words, Anar could see that The Dragon was trying to live, too. He was a bit stupid, a bit naïve maybe, but for an aeons old magical entity he was doing what he thought was the right thing. He'd chosen them over his weapons. Right now, he was willing to be lost in the underworld for a chance to bring Hemlock back.

"Victus loves Hemlock to bits. If anything happens to me, they'll have each other," he reasoned, softly.

"You are such an idiot, I swear," Luci sighed, as he reached his hand out, and felt the last of the bubbling in his blood subside forever.

The Dragon stood himself upright, cricked his neck, cracked his knuckles and shivered his wings. He put his sunglasses back on, after wiping grit from them where they'd been laid upon the gravel drive. He dusted down his jacket, too. He hadn't magic to spare to shift into his human form, so this would do.

"I will bring Hemlock back to you, though I may not have power to return. Be assured, Anarchy, that we will meet again. In another life. Our story, much like our friendship, is far from over. Farewell for now."

And he was gone.

"But... but he didn't have a gate? How... how did he..."

Luci shook her head, "you really gave him the last of your power so he could vanish."

"He's bringing Hemlock back."

"Is he? We will see. Dragon's look out for themselves, first priority. You can't trust them! All this flowery talk of you two being best buddies hooks you in every time. One minute he's saying he can't live without you, the next - poof! Gone. He's a liar. He's manipulative. He's a dragon."

Anar paused, "I think that he's spent so long being all of those things that it's hard for him to change, but he really does want to change, and this is the only way he can show it. And I'm not dead, look! My head's a bit fuzzy, my mouth's a bit dry and I could eat a scabby horse between two mattresses, but I'm here."

"Yes, you're here. In Ye Olden Days. No Waitrose meat counter. No electricity. If we're lucky, we won't get plague. 500 years! If the Warlock family lasts that long. Ha! We'll be back in power right about the time the Council of Sorcerer's curses us. That'll confuse 'em! Shame we won't be around to see the look on old Rowan's ugly face."

"What do you think Valentino meant, when he said we'd meet again in another life?"

Luci blew air from her lips, "heaven only knows. I think he's as tapped as the rat was. Come on, let's see if Hemlock has miraculously sprang to life."

"Don't say it like that..."

The gravel crunched beneath them. The sun glanced off the glass of the conservatory. The broken panes wouldn't be fixed for a while. As they approached they could see the dull green scales of a slumped form on the floor by the high chair. Anar felt a lump in his throat. The plants in the room were healthy and glossy-leaved. That reptile was a marvellous horticulturist. Had been, at any rate.

There was a wheezy croak, and a rib muscle convulsed.

Anar leapt over crystal shards, kneeling beside his dear friend as Hemlock gulped for air and rubbed at his chest. The scales there were dark purple, a bruise to show his magical wound.

"Oh look, Hemmy," he smiled, lifting his woollen sweater, "we match!"

"Where the fuck did they go?" The reptid floundered, trying to get up, his tail whipping.

"Oh, they're long gone. Or long ahead."

Hemlock's terrible fangs glistened, "they had Viccy!"

"Look, look who it is!" Luci cooed.

Hemlock's eyes widened as Victus burbled happily upon seeing his uncle. "There's my little helper!" He opened his arms and gratefully accepted the chubby bundle, patting the well-padded bottom. "What did those nasty humans do? What did the nasty, smelly, naughty humans do? Eh?"

"They killed you."

The reptid paused. "What?"

Anar continued, "brown bread, mate. I almost cried. I still might."

Hemlock looked around himself, hastily, counting limbs.

"You're all better now. The Dragon took a one-way trip to the underworld to bring you back."

"Valentino's gone?"

"Good riddance, too!" Luci sniffed. "bloody prat led the Council mages to us by bringing his stolen weapons here before stashing them away. Only of course, they're still under the illusion that it's Anar that's the dragon, so they punished us instead. Now we're under a blood curse that's not going to expire for 500 years, so Valentino brought us back in time 500 years for 'our safety'," she flipped her fingers for air quotes. "Basically, if the Council kill us, he'll never get his magic back."

"Is that what happened?' Anar asked. "I was trying to piece it all together."

"Yes, dear. It's all The Dragon's fault. Everything. The Sceptre. Your death. Our family curse. All of it. But because he says you're his very best friend forever, you let him wander off with the last of your magic. Told you that you were an idiot!"

Hemlock clambered onto a rattan chair, still cuddling little Victus, his long razor claws stroking the grey tuft of soft new hair tenderly. "we have each other, and that's what matters most. Who cares what year it is? I've moved worlds to be with you. Valentino can't be all bad if he's given me more time with those dearest to me."

"That's what I was trying to say!" Anar interjected.

Luci shook her head, "I must be too jaded to see it. Maybe it's a mediaeval mentality: seeing the good in people, believing every villain can be redeemed."

"Maybe you have a modern Earth mentality, expecting the worst of people and being suspicious of every kind gesture?" the reptid suggested.

"Bwabwa nyammnyamm." Victus happily gummed one of Hemlock's bony fingers.

The shadows had grown longer for the turn of the afternoon as the Warlock's prepared themselves for an unknown future ahead.

Nothing would ever be the same. No nightmares to call upon, no Guen sunning himself in the marigold border. No highbrow visitors calling upon Valentino, and fawning over the immaculately maintained gardens while they were at it. Even The Bag was reduced to a fancy bit of velvet cloth, now that Anar no longer had the magic within him to access the portal. If they wanted something, they would have to pay for it. Good job there was plenty of gold and glittering rocks lying around from Valentino's amassed collection of shiny things. Why couldn't The Dragon have collected treasure, like dragons were supposed to do? How much trouble could that have possibly caused?

Anar slipped his arm around Luci's waist, comfortingly. Whatever the struggles, they would see them together, and he had a feeling in his gut that it was all going to be alright, in the end.