The thought of his closest friend pulled at his heart. He was missing the other three greatly. He prayed that Ember had not suffered any more terrors.
Morgan was very aware of the echo that his boots were making, shattering the silence of the forest and he wondered why he hadn’t been met, or stopped. He was sure that the elves would have felt his presence by now. The fact that he had not met another concerned him slightly. Was it because they could tell that he was one of them? Or were they simply waiting to attack. His hand curled round his sword once more, his steps slowing, becoming more tentative as he moved towards the end of the forest.
The great wall of the city of Doterrian rose up in his view, almost blocking out the natural light of the afternoon sun. The stone danced with its own radiance, the pull of magic becoming almost too much to bare as Morgan pushed on through the power, a power he was not use to dealing with. Stopping just short of the large iron gates, Morgan found himself doubting this task for the first time. He had been so sure that he would be welcomed by the elves, that they would happily agree to letting him loose within their library so that he could dig through the ancient manuscripts of the other lands. To see If they had any idea of Ember’s history, or at least some idea as to why a white dragon would be a visitor in his friend’s dreams. Debating whether to step through the threshold, he found himself almost tempted to turn back round when a voice stopped him.
“The king is expecting you, hybrid.” Morgan shifted his gaze, seeking out the owner of the voice. He found a small elf stood just to his left inside the gates. His eyes were the colour of the gold that seemed to cover the leaves, and they were fixed intensely on Morgan. Morgan tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
“I am not going to hurt you, and neither are any of the people. Now, as I said, King Ruven is expecting you, and it is best not to keep a king waiting.”
Morgan narrowed his eyes slightly, he was certain that the elf’s gaze had not left him, yet he knew that Morgan had reached for his sword. Morgan had been careful to minimize his actions so as not to draw attention to them, he could only assume the elf had sensed it all, and that made him feel even more uncertain about what was happening or even worse what was about to happen.
“What is your name?” Morgan demanded, if he was going to follow a stranger he at least wanted to know the name of his escort.
“My name is Arun. I am the king’s squire and I have been sent to meet you, Morgan. I know who you are, we all do. The king was very fond of your mother. But I will let him tell you more about that. It is not my story to tell,” Arun replied.
Morgan relaxed slightly at his answer, the fact that Arun had mentioned his mother soothed his unease. Not completely though, he would not drop his guard until he had seen and spoken with the king himself.
Nodding slightly, he followed Arun as he turned and guided him through the city. Morgan felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he took in every part of the world that his mother had been born in. This place was part of him, and his soul knew it. He wished he had the time to stay longer than he was planning on doing, making a promise to himself that should the king welcome him, he would return as much as he could so that he could learn more about the people that were half of him.
“We are at the palace, Morgan.” Arun’s voice brought him from his thoughts, stopping him just before he went crashing into Arun and no doubt knocking the small elf over if he had done.
Morgan didn’t answer, instead, he let his gaze move up the great building in front of him. Letting out a low whistle as his eyes took in a sight he had never seen before. Living in Caspa they didn’t have the means to build something so amazing. Their humble huts doing just enough to keep them protected from the elements. The palace was built from the same stone that surrounded the city. Silver and gold weaved in between the white stone, holding it together with magic so powerful Morgan dared not to imagine what damage it could do should the wrong people touch it. It was no wonder that the elves were rarely dragged into wars, he could only assume that no one dared to cross the path of their walls. Windows, of which there were so many, had glass of different colours and patterns, and Morgan longed to get into the palace to see the patterns the sun would make from such art. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it looked like behind the large wooden door.
He watched as Arun walked up to the door, lifting a stick that Morgan hadn’t noticed before and tapping three times on the wood. Within moments, the door was opened by two guards dressed in white with a silver cloak draped over their left shoulder, the material shimmering as they moved, their armour and spears made from the same steal that Morgan’s sword was. They were both tall, slim built with the elegance of an elf but the strength of a soldier. Long blonde hair pulled back in a tight braid that ran down their backs. Their golden eyes stared down on Morgan, making him shift slightly in unease. These were men you dare not cross, he could feel the magic within their army and sense the power of their souls. They said nothing, stepping to the side to allow Arun and Morgan to enter.
Arun entered first, Morgan quick to follow, jumping slightly as the doors slammed shut behind them. Their boots echoed off the marble floor as they made their way through the long hallway. Morgan allowed himself to get lost in the artwork that covered the walls, paintings that seemed so real that it looked like the animals and elves within were moving. A light cough caught his attention once more. Morgan smiled sheepishly at Arun, the look on the elf’s face told him he wasn’t impressed with the fact Morgan seemed so distracted. Morgan didn’t care. He had never been in a building so magnificent, he was damned if he wasn’t going to take in every inch of its beauty.
“Forgive me, Arun. I have never seen anything like this before. It is all a bit overwhelming and a lot to take in,” Morgan apologised.
Arun’s face softened slightly as he let out a slight laugh. “You would have always been welcomed here, Morgan. The king is waiting. I will leave you two to get acquainted and I am sure we will speak again at some point during your time here.” And with that Arun turned and left Morgan alone in front of another large wooden door.
He could feel the eyes of the guards boring in on him causing him to shift slightly under their cold gaze.
“Let him in,” came a strong musical voice.
One of the guards lifted his hand, placing the palm of it onto the door, the simple touch flying it open to reveal a large room decorated in blues and greens. Lavish tapestries hung from the walls. Morgan felt himself settle and relax instantly before he even laid eyes on the man that stood bathed in the rays of sun coming in from the patterned window. The mood of the room mixed with the colours of the earth was like a balm to his soul.
Finally, he allowed himself to take in the elf stood before him. There was no doubt that he was the king. His clothing said enough. The finest silks of blues and silver wrapped around the slight but strong body of him. His ice blue eyes shone with the light of youth, even though Morgan knew that he was old by many centuries, there was so much wisdom held within. His silver grey hair pulled back in a long plait, revealing the point of ears which completed the look of the king he was. Almost forgetting his manners, Morgan dropped down into a low bow.
“Your Majesty, it is an honour to meet you,” Morgan spoke, hearing the boots of the king hit the floor as he made his way towards him. He felt a hand on his shoulder encouraging him to stand.
“A son of my sister does not need to bow to his uncle. Rise, Morgan. I have waited many years to see you,” Ruven ordered gently.
Morgan did what was asked of him, raising to meet the king’s intense gaze. His words confusing him, certain he had heard Ruven wrong. “My uncle? Forgive me your majesty, but I think you must be mistaken…”
“I am not mistaken. Your mother was my sister, your father was one of the guards of the king of the flying horses. She fell in love with him the first time they met, and then each time your father came with the king they would spend all the time together. Eventually she begged
our father to let her go, let her marry him. My father did, he always believed that we should be happy and marry who we loved, he didn’t care that it would make you a hybrid. It is why we protect you so much, you and the other hybrids. Father made a vow before he died that I was to continuing protecting you,” Ruven explained, indicating to the chair that sat in front of the large oak desk Morgan had not noticed before.
Morgan didn’t refuse the offer, the information he had just been given was almost too much to take in, and he felt his body sink into the soft leather. He stayed silent for a few moments not daring to speak, letting his mind work and process all he had just learnt. There was so much he didn’t know of his parents, and he felt a slight anger that his father never told him the truth of his mother. He had the blood of royalty. He wasn’t sure if that would have made any difference in the path that he had chosen, but he would never know thanks to the fact he was never told the truth.
“Your father didn’t tell you anything of your mother because he was sworn not to. It would have been too dangerous. With so much going on in the lands, the dragons on the hunt for any hybrids born, your father had to keep you hidden. Do not resent him, Morgan, he did nothing wrong.”
Morgan didn’t bother asking how Ruven knew what he had been thinking. The power that the elves had to rule the mind was one that he was well averse to. “So I have the blood of high born. I wish I had known sooner, I wish I had come sooner. I just didn’t know how welcomed I would be. I know that you have been kind to us in the years that we have been in Caspa, but I didn’t know why, and I wasn’t sure if that kindness extended to us coming to Doterrian.” Morgan finally spoke, watching as the king took his own seat opposite him, shaking his head as Ruven offered him some wine.
“I can assure you that any of the people from Caspa would be welcome here. If ever you need protection you only have to ask, if ever you need an army, again you only need to ask. You are my nephew and I would protect you till the day I die. Then when I do pass onto the next world it would be you that would take my place on this very throne. I have three beautiful daughters, but unfortunately never a son. Therefore you being the next male that holds even a little of our blood would claim the throne.”
Morgan shook his head slightly, not daring to believe all that he was hearing. He was the next in line to the elf throne. The hybrids were welcome in Doterrian should they ever need shelter. Morgan wasn’t sure what to say. This had not been what he had expected to hear when he arrived in Doterrian. He had only come to ask for permission to use the great library. Now he had found out that he was the heir to the Doterrian throne.
“I understand that this is a lot to take in, and I am sure that this is not what you have come for. Before I let you go and rest, and recover from your journey, tell me, what is the real reason why you are here, Morgan?” Ruven asked.
Morgan took a few moments to gather his thoughts before daring himself to speak. “I was hoping to have permission to use your library and to look through the great manuscripts of the land. I need some answers that I hope will help my friend with the dreams that terrorise her at night. I need to know about the dragons and the white dragon if he truly exists.”
“The white dragon is alive. He is the prince of Ustrina, and I can tell you all I know about him tomorrow. The library and all its contents is yours to browse. Tomorrow we can look together, and I can see if I can help you in anyway. But for tonight you will be my guest for dinner, and you will enjoy the luxury that you deserve, Morgan.” Ruven told him.
“It would be my honour, Uncle. I hope that you will tell me more about my mother. I know so little about her.” Morgan replied, smiling as the king let out a small laugh.
“Oh my dear boy, I have many stories I can tell. Some I think will shock you and it would be my pleasure to tell you them all.”
Chapter 16
Blaze wasn’t sure how long they had been travelling for or even if they were going in the right direction. All he cared about was keeping the two of them hidden as best he could in a hope that they would not be found again. It had been two days since the fight had happened and Blaze still couldn’t believe that they had taken down one of the most formidable dragons of Ustrina. Word would have reached the king by now, and he would no doubt be furious that not only had his best assassin been killed, but that his son would have got away. They were in more trouble now than they had been to start with, and that alone meant that they could no longer risk staying in any more villages.
This didn’t help the situation that Blaze had found himself in over the last few days. The injury that Ash had sustained had been worse than he had first thought. Though it had not killed, him it had weakened him greatly, and also prevented them from being able to fly. As the hours passed Ash had become weak from the infection, his body not able to fight whatever poison the great beast had put into him. Blaze knew that they had to find help soon, but he had no idea how far out they were from the nearest civilisation or even who he could trust any more.
“We are heading in the right direction you know,” came the voice of his friend, shocking him slightly.
Ash had barely said a word since Blaze had pulled him up off the ground where he had fallen and dragged him across endless lands to reach where they were now. Where ever that was. Easing Ash down against a tree and taking a seat next to him, Blaze glanced to his side. His friend looked awful. His normal tanned skin was pale and slick with the sweat of sickness. He was certain he could see a slight tremor rippling through his body. There were dark shadows under his eyes, exaggerated by the bright purple they had become. Blaze wasn’t sure he had ever seen Ash look so weak, and if he was honest with himself it, scared him. His best friend was always the strong one, the one to protect them and guide them no matter what trouble they would get themselves into when they were younger. Blaze knew Ash wouldn’t die, not yet. There was too much left in these lands for him to do, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch his friend suffer. Deciding to humour him and keep Ash talking he replied simply. “And how do you know that? I have been dragging your dead weight for the last few days. How could you possibly know where we are going?”
“Because my senses tell me we are. So you have done well to drag my ‘dead weight’ this far. I am proud of you. I didn’t think you had the strength to do so,” Ash mocked.
Blaze growled slightly at his friend’s words, but couldn’t help the smile that formed from them. The dig was a sure sign that Ash was starting to feel better even if he didn’t look it.
“Well in that case oh mighty one, how far are we from Caspa?” Blaze questioned, watching as Ash lifted his finger to point straight ahead.
“We are basically here.”
Blaze allowed his gaze to land on the horizon where the sun was just setting, leaving a glow of fire to settle over almost baron land. Just beyond the vibrant forest that the two dragons were hidden was a vast opening of dried grass, browned from the heat of the sun, and from the lack of water that ran through this land. There was another boarder of trees that no doubt formed the entry to Caspa, but they didn’t ooze the greens that the ones hiding their shadows did. Instead, these trees had leaves the colours of orange and red, with a bark such a vibrant shade of amber that it almost didn’t look real. It was like nothing Blaze had seen before, and he wondered just what type of sorcery lived here. He knew that these people were hybrids. Meaning that they could have the blood of any living soul of any land still thriving or long gone.
Not for the first time did Blaze fear what they were about to walk into. Even more so now knowing that Ash was not as his full strength. Hell, he wasn’t even at half strength. If they were to be met with hostility, which he was certain that they would be, he was not so sure they would be able to survive an attack.
“Come dawn we will make our way into Caspa,” came Ash’s voice.
Blaze didn’t even look at him as he replied quietly. “You mean to our likely deaths.”
“Stop being so dramatic, Blaze. It i
sn’t going to be that bad. They won’t attack us straight away you know,” Ash muttered in reply.
Blaze snorted, unable to believe how calm his friend still was about the whole situation. Ash hadn’t shown any fear or lost any faith in their plans, not once, and it annoyed Blaze greatly. Ash may have no care for his life, but Blaze quite liked his and he wasn’t prepared to lose it just yet.
“Yet here you are, with me on the boarder of the hybrid land. Clearly, my friend, you don’t have much care for your life. Or you just like to live on the wild side and long for that sense of adventure and freedom.” Ash smirked, side glancing Blaze.
Blaze snarled slightly at his friend. Ash knew how much Blaze hated it when Ash entered his mind without asking.
“Or maybe I came along so that you don’t get yourself killed. Which, may I point out, you are doing a damn good job of nearly doing,” Blaze fired back, watching as Ash shrugged slightly closing his eyes as he did so.
“The key word being nearly. I am not yet dead, and I am going to be just fine. And yes I will be able to fight should we need to defend ourselves. But I can assure you the hybrids will not attack straight away. They are not an aggressive race, and as a long as we go in with the respect they deserve, then they will have no reason to attack at all.”
“Apart from the fact we are dragons. The very race that forced them to live in hiding. No, they have no reason at all to kill us straight away.” Blaze replied, though his words went unheard because Ash had fallen asleep, to which Blaze was grateful.
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