He finished with a dismissive wave of his hand as the master turned away from the three as if he couldn’t stand looking at them anymore.
Mor’treya glared at the little blond, so frail in appearance that the mar’goyn’lya felt like she could snap her in half using either of her forms. Cheleya’s cheeks were red expressing an emotion that was beyond the mar’goyn’lya’s understanding of humanity. Did she feel embarrassed, uncomfortable, ashamed or something else?
With a little growl as she stormed from the hall and back to the outer balcony, Mor’treya gripped her amulet returning to her gargoyle state and flew off towards her home.
Cheleya looked horrified by Malaketh’s turn of her words and tried to make him understand, “Master, I didn’t mean that they weren’t excellent flyers as they are. Kel’lor and Mor’treya are masterful at aerial combat. Truly.”
Delaying to watch the exchange, Kel’lor shook his head at the little human looking girl. He had lived twice as long and could see a ploy from the master for what it was. Malaketh didn’t even look at the girl as he stated, “Didn’t I dismiss you? Why do I still hear your voice Cheleya? You have as much training to do as the others after all.”
Recoiling like she had been slapped, the little blond slid from her stool to wander sadly towards the outer balcony. Kel’lor placed a brotherly arm around her frail shoulders, but waited to speak until after they were back on the balcony.
“Don’t worry, little sister,” the man said leaning down more than a foot to whisper in her ear. “Mor’treya will get over it and whether you had said anything or not, the master was going to make the threat either way. Now pull yourself together, if you don’t you will draw attention to yourself as a naked little human.”
Cheleya started as she glanced down witnessing her clothing disappearing into wisps of air. Her human form was natural and never wavered, but the clothing they wore was all illusion. An amulet changed the body, but clothing wasn’t part of that form. A wizard had to imagine the covering into being with the change or come into the world as they would from a womb, though full grown.
“Dragon scale,” the little blond ordered as the remainder of her clothes disappeared. New red scales appeared like armor, but just covering the parts of her that humans had warned were supposed to be covered for modesty. Cheleya was a che’ther after all and what did a land dragon know of clothing. They were born with scales and lived that way all their lives. Only those with magic played with such things as clothes and other bodies.
“Well, that wasn’t exactly what I meant,” Kel’lor stated standing tall and seeing the equivalent covering of a bikini covering the dragon’s human form. If he were to look closely, the man guessed that he could follow the shape of her even with the scales, but from a distance at least she looked covered.
“I am just flying home a short way, Kel’lor. I can imagine up something better there, unless my mother makes me change anyway.”
Nodding, the mar’goyn’lya had heard her complaints about her mother before. Though magic was both rare and cherished by their races, Cheleya’s mother didn’t like certain things that it brought into her home. Pulling her closer for a hug, Kel’lor tried to encourage her as he released the girl again, “Well, don’t worry too much anyway, Cheleya. Don’t forget that we are learning your magic, not our own. Mor’treya and I are already masters of our own race’s spells. We may be novices to dragon magic, but we will catch up eventually.
“This is your first full school of training, little one. Enjoy being so good for being so young and I will see you tomorrow,” he finished as the human facade turned back into the giant mar’goyn’lya form once more before Kel’lor propelled himself over the rail of the mountain top school.
Cheleya stood for just a moment longer. She glanced back at the doors and Malaketh who had moved from her sight. Shaking her head forlornly once again, the pretty little blond stepped up onto the rail and dove over the side.
“Dragon wing,” the girl stated bringing her magical wings into being. The feel of the wind rushing past and the exhilaration of the speeding fall through the air, were almost enough to make Cheleya smile once more.
For the origin of Darius the High Wizard try:
The Emperor’s Shadow War
Chapter 1- Dante
The smells of blood and death lay upon the plain. The orange light of a new day's sun added its color to the already crimson stained earth. The cries of crows and ravens broke the still air with their raucous calls of delight and the occasional squabble over a choice piece of meat. The fights ended quickly though. There was more than enough for even their great numbers, but the large ebony scavengers had their work cut out for them even still. Armor that had sought to protect the men of Certe in life resisted the strength of their beaks even though it had failed its responsibility so completely.
A sudden movement from the center of the dead startled the scavengers from their fare. The air turned dark as the flock lifted angrily from their meals. A groan from the final surviving defender was drowned out by the squawks of the brazen birds. The warrior fought his way weakly to his knees. A hand brushed absently at the blood blinding his vision. Looking back to the ground in front of him, the man found his broken sword.
The largest of the ravens swooped downwards to land before the man. It looked at him curiously. The man thought that he could see disbelief in the creature's eyes which mirrored that which he also felt. It squawked at him as if to ask him how it was that he still lived.
A croak through his raw throat was his ineffectual retort. The soldier coughed and the effort nearly threw him back onto his face in the gore. He spied an unopened canteen on a body nearby and reached out for it. Lifting the container to his mouth, the fallen warrior poured the liquid between his lips. The silver haired man rinsed out his mouth and spit it back out. The water had turned red before it even touched the blood stained earth.
Pouring the contents of the canteen back into his mouth, he forced his throat to swallow. Once started, the man couldn't stop until the vessel was drained.
The raven hadn't moved throughout the whole of his efforts.
The man stared at the creature in amazement. The thought of the scavenger drew him to look about him. The death surrounding him caused an unbidden gasp. He could tell that the hundreds of bodies mostly belonged to his comrades and allies. The army of King Druin lay about him in great unkempt piles.
He forced himself to remember how the losses could possibly have happened. The sight of a dark misshapen body sent waves of memory flowing harshly back into his consciousness. Tears of bitterness and failure came unbidden as he remembered it all.
Dante Betrice of the Certe Alliance Guard had come with his comrades when reports of the dark horde invading their lands had come to them. King Druin ruled in the south of the alliance and had sent the first battalion to meet the unknown intruders. General Batist had confidently led his men to the plain of Turo and there the army found that they faced the horror of creatures not born of their world.
The creatures consisting of two main types wore black armor strangely discolored by a crimson gloss. The smaller creatures all had dark green skin, a green that resembled that of an evergreen in winter. Small and quick they darted in and out and around the humans with their long knives. If a man wasn't careful, the beasts would take swipes at his legs going for the tendons in particular. He had seen many a soldier fall to the tactic and the creatures were quick to pounce in small groups to finish off their victim as well. If they didn't get the kill, their larger cousins would use their axes and clubs instead. With rough skin the color of oak bark, the creatures were nearly the height of a full grown man and had chests wider than a man's shoulder width. The larger beasts had formed a core through which their smaller cousins operated.
With power and speed, the dark warriors had quickly dismantled the entire command.
Dante had fought valiantly. Even as the men around him fell, he had continued to hold his ground. Dark crea
tures could be found slain in the midst of the Certe Guardsmen, and some were the result of his work. Then the numbers had closed in on him. Their mass proved too strong for his blade and the shield he had carried was left in tatters.
This brought him back the question of his continued existence. "How can I be here?" he questioned the raven still before him.
Cocking its shiny black head at him curiously, the bird answered with a softer call. Dante looked at the creature before him in wonderment that it was still perched before him. Shaking his head slightly until he realized that the motion caused him dizziness, Dante then chose to try and stand. The raven retreated only slightly as it continued to watch.
The soldier chose to ignore the bird and turned to the task of finding a suitable sword and shield to replace those that he had lost. He also found a pair of animal skin canteens and a couple of travel packs of food. Dante began eating ravenously. He had been famished. The hunger was greater than any he could ever remember.
He tossed a few scraps towards the raven though there was more than enough left here to feed it. Its comrades had already started withdrawing now that even their great appetites had been sated. His own hunger was as well now from a less morbid version of dinner.
The task before him had to be a return to Castle Trea and to find out if any of the others had made it back to warn the king. Having eaten, the man found his strength returning quickly. Dante began picking his way through the masses of dead. It was a disheartening experience. He found many a friend lying broken and often picked over by the scavengers. The body of General Batist was found near the rear of the battle surrounded by his personal guard.
Dante shook his head. The man had refused to flee though his command was being torn apart before him. Dante considered such an act foolish. The General should have retreated to the castle to warn the king. There was nothing to be gained by losing such an important man. His pride had caused the superb soldier to die which was a shame since Batist had been a renowned strategist and tactician. In the face of such a loss, Dante guessed that he had been unwilling to admit defeat.
Picking up his pace as he finally was clear of the main killing field, Dante rushed as quickly as he could manage. The castle was nearly twenty miles south. If he could get there soon enough, the soldier could prepare the king for what his troops would be facing.
Walking all day, eventually Dante spotted smoke ahead of him. A dark flash and the soft rustle of wings, alerted him to the raven's presence again. It had followed him this far oddly enough. Perhaps it was still certain of Dante's death and had chosen him as its future meal, he thought wryly. But as the bird soared on ahead towards the smoke, Dante realized that the bird would have something else to feed on first.
The bird had disappeared long ago, but Dante knew that the creature would be waiting ahead for him though he had no reason for such odd behavior. The warrior followed the road as best he could and before long he found the source of the smoke.
A small village, through which the Certen army had passed only a day ago, was now a smoking ruin. As he entered the outskirts of the town, Dante could smell the death before him even as he had on the battlefield. Animals and scavenger birds were here as well. Most scattered at the approach of the man. The brazen raven appeared before him in the road and turned to him with a cry.
"So nice of you to wait," he mumbled sarcastically.
As he searched the village for any survivors, Dante began to wonder about something else. The invaders’ identity was entirely unknown to him. They had appeared out of virtually nowhere. Those that had alerted the king had not known from where they had come either. More than five hundred strong, a true army of odd creatures the likes of which had never been known to this region of the Taltan continent, if they had ever existed anywhere in all of the world of Alus, and they had just appeared out of nowhere to attack and destroy.
Armies of man they knew. There were even dwarves rumored to be a true separate race up in the north, though he had never seen one. The myths of a race of gargoyles and the existence of dragons had made their way to Certe from North Continent as well. The source of old wives' tales to be told to naughty young children or around the campfire to try and spook the rawest of recruits, but now these aberrations were here. This slaughter was no wives’ tale.
Dante could find no survivors left alive and so he proceeded south to warn the king, even as the man continued to ask the unanswerable questions.
The raven continued to follow but revealed nothing to him.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1- The Harvest
Chapter 2- Intersection
Chapter 3- The Power of Suggestion
Chapter 4- The Plan of Exodus
Chapter 5- Glimpse of the Future
Chapter 6- The Girl's Secret
Chapter 7- Change of View
Chapter 8- Through Another's Eyes
Chapter 9- Under the Red Moon
Chapter 10- The Crystal Necklace
Chapter 11- Finding a Place
Chapter 12- The Game Changer
Chapter 13- Orientation
Chapter 14- A Helping Hand
Chapter 15- Shaping Dirt
Chapter 16- The Curse
Chapter 17- The Magic of Mages
Chapter 18- Ties Between
Chapter 19- The First Test
Chapter 20- The Drawback of Spells
Chapter 21- No Short Cuts
Chapter 22- Smelling a Rat
Chapter 23- The Confession
Chapter 24- The Challenge of Flight
Chapter 25- Disputed Champion
Chapter 26- The Devious Student
Chapter 27- A Trip to the Office
Chapter 28- The Trail of Smoke
Chapter 29- The Watch of Owls
Chapter 30- Magic and Judgment
Chapter 31- The Test of Leadership
Chapter 32- The Cliffs of Deras
Chapter 33- Predator and Prey
Chapter 34- A Meeting of Armies
Chapter 35- Diplomacy War
Chapter 36- Aftermath
Chapter 37- The Use of Portals
White Hall (The High King: A Tale of Alus Book 10) Page 59
