High House Draconis Box Set

by Riley Storm

Morak lashed out again. Green magic met green magic, but this time she held.

  The other members had ceased their attacks. That wasn’t what she wanted. Kyla’s staff rose and fell, and red tendrils of magic lashed out at the other twelve mages, reminding them that the test wasn’t over yet.

  About half countered the unexpected attack. The other half were hit, ranging from stumbling back onto one knee as they absorbed the hit, to one unfortunate fellow being caught completely unawares and tumbling back over himself twice before coming to a stop.

  “Resume!” she shouted.

  Enraged by her attacks, the other mages lashed out at her. Morak followed, his blows hitting the hardest.

  “Simply protecting yourself isn’t good enough!” he shouted, hammering her with another green blast.

  Kyla stumbled a step. Morak was strong. Very strong. He’d lost not because of his weakness, but because of his arrogance, his overconfidence. His opponent had used that against him and won.

  “You have no idea what I’m trying to achieve here,” she shot back, tired of Morak’s ‘offense is the first, last, and the only way’ strategy.

  It was all too typical of a lot of older non-council mages. They wanted to bull their way through, blasting aside anything that slowed them.

  Of course, those on the Council are the exact opposite. They want to attack nothing, and avoid everything. Why can’t there be balance!

  Her irritation flowed into the magic, and she struck out again, green energy hitting a trio of the mages arrayed at her. They collapsed, and a moment later one of them began snoring.

  The other mages arrayed around her took notice of this, and realized it was on for real now. Attacks hammered home from every direction, and Morak continued to force her to focus on him.

  Kyla had more tricks up her sleeve though. She turned, biding her time. Waiting for the right moment. The right bit of—now!

  She dropped her shield and slipped to the ground. Morak’s neon-green strike blew right through where her head had been, continued past, and took one of the other mages in the chest, hurtling him back across the chamber.

  Kyla was up and her shield flicking back into existence before he came to a halt.

  Morak, enraged by her manipulation, came on strong now. Both fists hurled energy at her. It grew brighter, and brighter. The other mages backed off, not sure of what was going on, and yet all too aware of the dislike between the two masters.

  Then Morak screwed up. He let his rage slip too far.

  A flash of blue left his right fist, hitting her shield. The blue spread through the solid green, separating it into shards, and then collapsing it.

  The other students all gasped.

  Blue magic was forbidden to be used except in the direst of circumstances. A staged practice inside the academy was anything but that.

  Morak paused, realizing his error.

  Kyla didn’t give him time to do anything else. Her staff lifted clear of the floor and she thrust it at Morak. Green energy spiraled up from the base and shot from the tip. The torrent of magic was wider than her leg. It picked Morak up and flung him across the chamber, pinning him to the wall.

  “How dare you use such a spell on me!” she bellowed, her voice amplified by her magic, carrying to all corners of the practice dome and echoing back, giving her a mighty roar. “You would strike at a Council Member with blue magic?”

  Morak was looking around wildly. He had screwed up, and screwed up bad.

  Several of the other mages, those who disliked her the most came at her from one side, casting their own spells, the shock of the moment worn off. Kyla casually thrust her right hand toward them, palm upward. A red spell tore through the green, splitting into three and striking each of the arrogant mages in the chest.

  They fell to the ground, their muscles locked to their sides, stiff as a board.

  She gestured with her staff and the green energy surrounded Morak and sent him hurtling back across the chamber to come to a halt in midair around her.

  “Why are you here?” she snapped, done playing games.

  Morak was strong. She was stronger. Kyla was done letting him think it was even close.

  The proud mage struggled fiercely, but he wasn’t getting out unless she told him.

  “He’s here because I sent him.”

  Kyla straightened and dropped the spell encasing Morak.

  “Archmage,” she said respectfully, bowing her head and bending a knee.

  “What is going on here?” asked the Archmage of the Guild, the most powerful mage in the world.

  “I was testing out a new shield design,” she said, straightening her back.

  Kyla gave the Archmage the respect his position was due, though she didn’t share the same feeling toward the man who occupied the spot as head of all mages.

  “How did it work?”

  “Splendidly,” she said with a smile.

  “Very good.” The Archmage looked at the others in the chamber. “Out.”

  Uh oh.

  The mages scrambled to obey, hauling their sleeping or spellbound companions out as fast as they could.

  The Archmage glanced at Morak. “You too.”

  Sullenly the other mage left the chamber, until it was just the two of them.

  “Did you really have to humiliate him like that Kyla? He will be insufferable now.”

  “Perhaps not,” she admitted, knowing that the Archmage was likely right. It hadn’t been necessary.

  “Think, before you act, young lady. You have the potential to be the strongest mage in a thousand years. If you learn to use your brain before you act. Otherwise, you’re going to get yourself into a situation even your strength won’t be able to undo. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Archmage,” she said, nodding.

  “Now. I sent Morak to you for a reason. I have a mission for you.”

  She looked up, surprised. As the youngest member of the Council, and new to its ranks at that, Kyla hadn’t expected to do much more than accompany the other Council members on their missions for several years.

  “For me?” she asked, confused.

  “Yes.” The Archmage looked disturbed. “Word has come to me, of an alliance. A union of powers.”

  “The Fae,” she said, naming the mages’ usual opponents over the past few decades.

  “No.” The gravity of the Archmage’s answer had Kyla’s spine straightening.

  “What, then?”

  “The shifters,” he said in a firm, yet low tone, not wanting the words to carry.

  Kyla’s back went ramrod straight. Shifters. The mortal enemy of the mages. They had been at peace for a century now, but that was nothing.

  “The dragons are back, and have taken control of the other Houses,” the Archmage continued. “I fear that they are returning to finish us off once and for all.”

  “They might find that hard to do,” Kyla said grimly. “We have worked hard to multiply our numbers in secret, whilst they have done little more than fight amongst themselves. I do not know if they have the strength for that yet.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” the Archmage snapped. “If the elder dragons are awake, it is over. They are too powerful.”

  Kyla nodded once. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Go to High House Draconis. Meet with the Dragons, and find out what they’re up to. Why have they returned? Why are they coming after us again? Try to delay them, any way you can. We’re counting on you.”

  Kyla swallowed nervously.

  Meet with the dragons? The Archmage was asking her to walk into the lair of the beasts, and find a way to stop them. On her own. No biggie.

  Welcome to the Mage Council, Kyla Langston.

  Chapter 2

  Galen eyed the thrones carved from solid stones.

  They sat along the back of the rectangular room, occupying over half of one of the long sides. Elevated, it would take him three stairs to reach them.

  If he chose to ascend to the top. />
  “Is there a problem?”

  He turned to regard Aaric, the fire dragon who, until Galen had awoken, had been in charge of the few active dragons. Aaric was the one giving up the most by supporting Galen, and yet he seemed concerned that Galen wasn’t just leaping into place.

  “No,” Galen said, keeping his voice even, tone normal.

  The others didn’t need to know of his internal thoughts, the emotions coursing through his mind and body just then. They needed him to be stoic, to lead with ease and confidence. What they did not need, was to know just how broken he was on the inside.

  Thankfully, Galen had centuries of hiding that from those around him. He’d gotten so good at it, most seemed to forget his painful past, and assumed it was no longer an act but just who he was as a person and as a dragon.

  “I’m just taking a moment,” he elaborated. “I am grateful for the trust that you all have put in me, and I want to ensure I do not take it for granted. The times may be dire, but becoming your King is still an honor that I intend to respect.”

  The other dragons nodded slowly in understanding.

  “The magic awoke you.”

  That was Jax, an older earth dragon on the verge of becoming an elder. He would be very powerful indeed once his powers blossomed fully. It was Jax, and his mate Sarah, who had first awakened Galen.

  Three months had passed since then. Galen had gone through numerous classes and lessons designed to bring him up to speed on the world around him. He had driven himself harder and faster than any of the dragons before, finishing the class as fast as possible.

  It wasn’t in an attempt to show off or upstage the others. Simply put, they didn’t have time for him to work any slower. The vampires were closing in, and they expected the final attack to commence any day now.

  Yet amid it all, the dragons had remained adamant that he should ascend to the throne and take up the mantle of King of High House Draconis.

  Galen wasn’t sure at all how to take that. He was an elder dragon, yes, but never in his long life had he ever considered himself to be King material. Yet Jax was right. The magic had awoken him. The others had tried to awaken a leader, and the artifact had chosen him to be that leader.

  Just because neither Galen nor any of the others could understand it, did not mean he was about to shy away from the duty appointed to him. Galen would be the best King he could be, and he would just have to hope that would be enough to save his species from the extinction that they were facing.

  No pressure.

  Taking in a deep breath, he pulled his shoulders back and held his head high. Crossing the floor with even, measured steps, he paused very briefly at the base of the Thrones before ascending.

  “In the absence of any ruling members of House Draconis, I Galen Drakon, do hereby claim for myself the title of King of House Draconis. Let any who challenge my claim speak now!” he said, his voice easily carrying to the only four people present in the chamber.

  In response, the other dragons knelt, bending a knee to their new King.

  Galen sat. His eyes flicked momentarily to the seat at his left, the chair meant to be occupied by the Queen of House Draconis. It was a spot that would have been filled once upon a time, but now was destined to remain forever empty as long as Galen was King.

  Tearing his eyes away from the stone, he looked out farther to his left, then to his right. The other positions of the House remained empty as well. Galen would fill them in time, but they had more important things to do just then.

  “Rise.”

  The other four dragons straightened. Galen surveyed them one by one.

  Aaric, the fire dragon, and his second in command.

  Victor, the water dragon. Hot-tempered, quick to act, but loyal beyond measure.

  Valla. The youngest, he was a new father, with the grim determination of a parent to sacrifice anything to protect their young.

  Jax. The earth dragon and the one responsible for giving the dragons the only hope they had against the massed might of the vampires.

  An alliance with all the shifter races.

  “I will do my best to defeat the vampires,” he growled to the other dragons. “They have come to rule us, but we will not submit so easily. They will find us ready to fight, and to win. No dragon will bend to their will while I still draw breath,” he vowed.

  The other dragons nodded. They were in agreement. A fight to the death was the only end they could see.

  And maybe, just maybe, I can find a way to help us win before it’s too late.

  It was a tall ask for a new King, but what choice did Galen have?

  Chapter 3

  “Remember, Kyla, you must find out what they are up to. That is your primary mission.” The Archmage looked around covertly.

  The two of them were standing in a concealed courtyard near the center of the Academy. No one else was there to see her off. None knew of her mission, and the Archmage wished to keep it that way.

  “But if the opportunity presents itself,” he added softly. “Then you must strike at them. The weaker Draconis is, the better our chance of defeating them. I won’t give you instructions on how, because I won’t be there. But use your brain, and do what you feel is right,” the Archmage said.

  Kyla stiffened. “But Archmage, we are not officially at war with one another,” she protested. “We don’t even know that the dragons are rallying the others against us.”

  In her heart, Kyla wasn’t sure she believed her own protests, but one thing she did know was that if she struck as the Archmage intended and was caught, she would be declared rogue. At that point, any protection the Mage Council could offer her would be removed.

  She didn’t want to imagine what the dragons would do to her then. They would most certainly kill her, but what unimaginable sorts of torture could such unrefined brutish types as shifters come up with, to put her through first? Kyla shivered at the thought.

  “Do your duty,” the Archmage said. “As you best see fit.”

  Nodding, she gripped her staff tightly, pulling the long jacket she wore tighter around her, the edges dangling down to her knees. The slim-fitting coat wasn’t thick at all, and it was designed to move with her as she ran and to billow out slightly behind her with the wind, a design feature that she found helped add intimidation to her appearance.

  “I will find the truth,” she said, and gestured with her free hand at the blank space in front of her.

  Reality shivered, a sight most unsettling for those uninitiated in the ways of magic, and then it quite simply ripped open. Before her stood a thick metal gate across a driveway. Behind it was a forest full of large mature trees, obscuring anything else that lay between.

  “Good luck,” the Archmage told her. “Strike deep.”

  Kyla just nodded, stepping through the portal and emerging in front of Dracon Keep, stronghold of High House Draconis.

  Mortal enemies of the mages.

  “You’re really in it now,” she said, walking up to the gate.

  Her senses, finally tuned to things of magic nature, stopped her about ten feet short of the gate itself, and about a foot shy of the magical border.

  Wards. Lots of them.

  Wards were spells of protection, layered one upon another. Invisible and unseen unless activated, they could lie dormant for a long time, and spring into visibility at the slightest touch. They were used to keep out magical creatures or, in her case, to strip them of their powers.

  Kyla could walk through. The wards would not stop her. But in doing so, she would forfeit her magic, be devoid of the ability to protect herself. That was the last thing she wanted. If she wished to retain her abilities, she must be invited in and allowed to pass.

  “Well. Seems that the polite thing to do is knock.” Reaching out, she tapped the butt end of her staff against an empty spot in the air.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  Bang.

  With each tap against the shield, sparks erupted from her sta
ff and a golden barrier flowed into existence, spreading wide as the wards absorbed her magic and spread it across them. As the magic faded, so too did the barrier.

  She stood back and waited, enjoying the heat of the day. It was late afternoon, but the sun was still up in the sky, beating down on a beautiful summer day. July, one of the nicest and warmest months. Kyla basked in the heat, accepting it into her very bones.

  The Mage Council and Academy were based out of the mountains in the north, and though the Appalachians were humps compared to the Rockies to the west, high up in their northernmost peaks it was still a noticeable temperature drop compared to down closer to sea level.

  This was heaven for the mage.

  While she waited for a response—the dragons would be aware of her knocks—Kyla looked around. Something felt…off, to her. Trained eyes scanned her surroundings.

  A road ran perpendicular to the front gate, a county road that followed the line of the stone wall surrounding Drakon Keep and then meandered off into the distance, curving slightly off to the left.

  Across from her was a forest, so thick and full that not much light penetrated to the ground level. It was thick with shadows, swirling and casting crazed lines as the branches shifted and swayed in the light breeze.

  Kyla frowned. Even at this time of day, more light should be making it to the forest floor. What was blocking it?

  She summoned some magic, meaning to quest out and see what was going on.

  “Can I help you?”

  The voice from behind her startled Kyla. Spinning, she saw a tall man, thick black hair styled upward. Eyes as bright as the arctic tundra stared out at her from behind the gate.

  “My name is Kyla Langston. I’m here on behalf of the Archmage of the Guild,” she said, speaking the proper lines. “I wish an audience with your King.”

  The dragon nodded slowly. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” Kyla tried to keep her confusion from showing. Why did that surprise him?

  “No.”

  She blinked, annoyed at the blunt, gruff tone of the obvious dragon shifter. “Pardon me?”

  “I said no. He’s not taking visitors right now.”

  Kyla walked right up to the barrier. “You’re lying,” she said sharply. “Now let me in. I am here as an official emissary.”