'Disappear! Vanish! Un-summon!' Arin screamed in his mind.
At the same time, he yelled, 'Watch out!', out loud.
It was too late.
His silver dragon's body slammed hard into four of the spectating people, including the fire talent-user. The force knocked them through the thinning dome of fire, and out into the open.
Screams of horror rang out in the village square.
As the dragon - still corporeal - rolled limply to one side, three of the four people who'd been hit lay unmoving on the ground.
The fourth had lifted himself up to his hands and knees almost immediately, but seemed incapable of moving any further. Through the growing gap in the now-fading flames, it was clear to see he'd been terribly injured.
He let out a low groan of pain.
'No!' screamed one of the women still on the inside.
But once again, it was too late.
One of the needleworm beetles, sensing opportunity, had already silently alighted onto the kneeling man's face.
In just a split second, before he'd even had the opportunity to react, he'd been stabbed.
His lifeless body flopped back down onto the ground. At the same time, two other needleworms had made fast work of two other unconscious, and therefore unprotected, villagers.
The fire talent-user's flaming lattice-shield had disappeared when he'd fallen, leaving him as vulnerable as the others. However, no needleworm moved to land on his face.
Arin realized with a sickening jolt that it was because they couldn't detect the man's breath. The impact had killed him instantly.
'Ah,' he gasped sharply.
He'd just seen someone die.
Not really. It was just within the dream. Besides, that's what he was here for, in the first place.
He already knew all that.
It was fine. It was fine. Those people had just taken one step closer to being saved.
...and now, he sounded like a stupid cult leader again.
Still, seeing it happen that way...
Arin sucked in a deep breath of air. With his illusion-dragon... hurt? Dead?...out of commission, the last of the fire dome was disappearing. The brightly-illuminated square from just a few seconds ago was, once again, slowly succumbing to the dark of the night.
In the dying light, he could make out the remaining three of the original seven villagers, as they each continued keeping their faces and necks covered. One of the two remaining women was sobbing loudly into her hands, mumbling, 'Why? Why?', over and over again as she shook her head.
Then, all of a sudden, Arin's muscles tensed, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled; there was a strange sense of impending doom. It was instinctive. Primal.
...or maybe, it was because his brain had suddenly remembered he'd been facing away from his attacker for far too long for it to remotely be safe.
Either way, Arin raised an arm to protect his head, and leaped backwards as far as his legs would allow him to.
In doing so, he only just managed to escape the large maw of sir Grif's dragon, as it snapped shut right where his head had been.
There was another piercing scream from one of the villagers.
'Holy- !' he exclaimed, as burning hot dragon-breath hit his face. About two feet away from him was the creature's lowered head. A large, dull-gold, emotionless eye was still locked onto him.
However, the creature didn't come after him again just yet. Dark liquid slipped down the side of its jaw, and its mouth full of large, pointed teeth was moving as it...
... chewed.
Arin suddenly felt light-headed.
It hadn't been dragon-breath, but blood, that had splattered across his face. He looked at the arm he'd been holding up in front of his head.
The hand was missing, neatly severed by unbelievably sharp teeth, just a couple of inches below the wrist.
'What- what the -! Ugh- !'
No, it was fine. It would grow back. What!? No, it wouldn't! What the hell was he saying? It didn't need to, because it wasn't even his arm in the first place; it was Rin's!
No, not that. It was fine because he was still asleep. In the distortion. He was dreaming! His actual arm was actually fine. It hadn't been eaten by a dragon.
...but then, why the hell did it hurt so damn much!?
Gnashing his teeth in agony, Arin stumbled backwards, using his other hand to grip his forearm in a futile attempt at staunching the flow of blood.
He furiously blinked away the tears that we're uncontrollably forming in his eyes.
'Argh, damned #*@$! What... the hell is wrong... with you, man!?' he panted.
At the same time, the sobbing woman cried, 'Sir Grif, why? Your beast... your actions have - have killed them!'
The village head laughed in that awful, low voice again. At some point, another exceptionally long snake had appeared to cover the lower part of his face, and keep him safe from the lingering needleworm beetles.
'I care not for anything anymore,' he rumbled. 'I care not! Why shall I, when it is all being destroyed? Ruined! But -!'
'I can save it. I can still save it all, as long as you... YOU!' he roared at Arin, 'are expelled from this dream! And I shall make it so you may never dare come back, vermin!'