by Kya Lind
White Dragon Tower
Book 1
Gifted Magic
White Dragon Tower
Book 1
Gifted Magic
Kya Lind
Copyright 2014 by Kya Lind
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, are purely coincidental. All characters and events in this work are figments of the author’s imagination.
To Kayla – keep living your dreams
White Dragon Tower
Book 1
Gifted Magic
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
White Dragon Tower : Book two -The Queen’s Tribute
Other Books by Kya Lind
White Dragon Tower – Book 2- Queen’s Tribute
White Dragon Tower - Book 3- Dragon’s Song
The Dusky Duke and the Gypsy Pirate Princess
Possibilites
Author’s Information (WWW.)
Chapter 1
Extending its long neck, the great dragon raised its head. The blood red wings unfurled to either side, sweeping the courtyard as the beast beat its wings in a thunderous motion. Staring intently, the large animal’s silver eyes looked down at the lone figure standing in the center of the paved area before it. An older man, dressed in an unadorned robe of black, stood without moving before the dragon. The man’s expression was stern and instructive.
A large open area surrounded the two, consisting of the tumbled ruins of a once mighty fortress. The castle walls and towers now lay crumbling under the growth of wild grasses and sarroweed. The two stood facing each other, a large dragon towering over the human. Lowering its head until it was eye level with the man, the huge reptile gently puffed out streams of smoke from its large mouth. The steam gently rolled in waves around the two figures. The man appeared unconcerned and unimpressed. Jerking its head back up, the dragon blew a long funnel of fire over the head of the man. Its dark red scales shimmered in the sunlight. The man stood unmoving. The dragon licked its lips. It looked at the human hungrily. It sniffed the air was if it had caught the scent of its next meal.
The man shook his head firmly. “Stop showing off, we have work to do,” the man instructed. The dragon stopped beating its wings and tilted its head.
“Step forward. Move away from the image,” commanded the human.
The huge dragon stepped forward, frowned in concentration, and then stepped back. The beast repeated the action several times, before beating its wings and swinging its tail in a motion of frustration.
“Concentrate! You are not concentrating. Step forward!” commanded the man again.
The large dragon shook itself from its head to the tip of its tail, a length of more than fifty feet. The sunlight reflected the deep red shades of the scales that covered its hide, protecting it from possible injury. Smoke rolled out of its gaping mouth. The huge beast moved forward circling the human. Once again it stopped and stepped back.
“Step forward,” directed the man again. The dragon lifted its foreleg, paused and then returned it to its original position. The great beast shook its head in despair.
“Take another form,” commanded the man in a black robe.
The dragon slowly and smoothly folded in on itself until it reformed. A large black warhorse complete with military tack appeared in the dragon’s stead. The horse raised its head and snorted at the man. The man again appeared neither amused nor impressed. The horse shook its large black head. The reins shook in response to the movement.
“Step forward, walk away from the image, now,” demanded the man again.
The huge horse stepped forward and then back, repeating this motion several times. The horses ears pulled back, and its upper lip curled in anger, its tail switched back and forth in frustration.
“Concentrate. Emotion will not help you complete this task.” The tall man stood without moving, his eyes seemed only to be half open, as though he were looking at something not in his direct line of vision. He spoke without a hint of emotion.
The horse immediately became still. It bowed its head in concentration. After several minutes, the horse slid forward without moving its feet. Then it slid a step forward again as though someone was dragging it across the courtyard toward the man.
“Stop,” instructed the man, with a sigh. “Reya, this is not a step in the right direction. You are still fixed to the image. You must concentrate. The image is not you. Release it.”
The massive warhorse folded in on itself and reformed as a large, brown bunny complete with floppy ears and whiskers. The rabbit sat up on its haunches and began washing its face with its front paws. There were white patches of fur on the creature’s chest and muzzle and the tips of its long ears.
“Reya, changing the image will not make it easier for you to separate yourself from it. The concern lies in how your mind perceives the image. Not the image itself. You must understand that the image is not bound to you by proximity, but by thought. Release the image. Walk away from it. You can hold it in the mind without touching it physically.”
The bunny paused in its cleaning and looked up at the man from the grass. Its large dark eyes contemplated the instructor’s words.
The bunny slowly started to rise into the air. The animal’s face reflected the concentration of this effort. The bunny started spinning around in tight circles elevated several feet off the ground. It hair and ears extended in the movement of the wind. Then suddenly the rabbit was gone; in its place stood a young woman of twenty and one. She was dressed in a dark brown riding habit, and a matching wide brim hat. She flopped unceremoniously onto the grass at her feet. “Ugh!” she declared in a frustrated voice. “I will never be able to do this.”
The man, still unconcerned, admonished, “Negative thoughts cannot produce positive behaviors, young lady.”
She leaned back in the grass on her elbows and looked up at the tall man. “I know,” she replied in defeat, “I must focus on the achievement, and not the limitations of my abilities. I have accomplished more than most and am only limited by myself.” She repeated the expected script she had heard so often.
“Exactly,” added the teacher. “You are only limited by what you believe is true and possible. I cannot teach you the next step; I can only guide you.”
The young woman was gone in a blink, and an ordinary, unremarkable calico cat sat in her place on the grass. The cat blinked lazily up at the older man.
“T
his image will not work; you are too tightly bound to this one for it to be useful in this exercise,” the man instructed patiently.
The cat looked miffed, arched its tail toward the man as it turned its back, and stretched its forelegs out in front of it.
The cat paused and reformed in the blink of an eye into a massive oak tree, covered in dark green leaves, and swaying limbs. The tree towered over the man. The man stood under the covering canopy of leaves, but there was no shadow. The man was still covered in sunlight, just as he had been before the appearance of the tree.
Again the man stood, patiently waiting.
“Step forward, you must step forward and leave the image behind,” he commanded again.
The tree slid forward across the ground.
“Ugh,” came the frustrated voice of the girl, hidden within the image of the tree.
♣♣♣
A small dog waddled up behind the woman who sat, stirring soup in a large pot over a campfire. Her long hair was pulled back and wrapped in a coverlet to keep it clean. Her dress was of expensive cloth, but well worn. The silver of her many bracelets and chains contrasted sharply with the plainness of her attire. Anyone could tell from her bearing that she was a lady of station. She stirred the pot of soup slowly.
The little dog disappeared in a blink, and a long black snake uncoiled itself from around the woman sitting on the stump. The snake slid silently up the stump and across the shoulder of the women to peer into the pot. The woman brushed the feel of the snake away, turning her head to look at the same time. The woman and the snake’s eyes met. For a startled second, the woman’s face registered her surprise. Then she quickly grabbed the snake around the throat with both of her hands and drug the serpent across her lap. The reptile blinked into a young boy’s form before his mother released his arm and applied of dose of parental discipline across his backside.
“I was just joking, mama,” the boy protested, wiggling loose and quickly moving away from his mother. “I was just practicing like pa said.” He rubbed his backside to lessen the sting of the swats.
“Trying to scare your mother is not a good use of your talents, Benji Mann Talone,'” his mother shook her spoon at him, “I don’t think your father will be too happy to hear about your prank.”
Suddenly the boy was gone in a blink. In his place was a tiny brown and black puppy with huge sad eyes. The puppy looked up at her imploringly and whined.
“Well, I may not tell him, if you agree to behave yourself.” She went back to stirring her soup. “Run and inform your father that lunch is ready.”
In a blink, the sandy-headed boy was back. He grinned at his mother, “Yes, madam.”
Lady Talone watched in amusement as her twelve-year-old transformed into a young colt and galloped away towards the ruins of the old castle. That boy was going to give her gray hair yet.
♣♣♣
Reya was overjoyed to see the appearance of the young colt moving towards them. She let the image of the large grey boulder that she was holding slip away, and waved a hand at her friend. There were more than ten years in age between herself and her tutor’s only son, but she felt closer to him than anyone else in the world.
Her instructor turned his head to see what had distracted her from her lessons, and smiled in genuine delight at the approach of his son.
The colt ambled up and announced, “Mama says to come eat lunch.” The voice that came out of the horse’s mouth was the voice of the young boy.
“Thank you,” breathed Reya, happy for any excuse to stop the unsuccessful lessons.
“Come,” directed Sir Talone, as he turned and strolled through the ruined castle heading back in the direction that the colt had come.
Reya looped her arm around her young friend’s neck as they started after his father. She marveled that at only twelve, he was as tall as she was, and she wasn’t exactly short. They ambled after the man at a leisurely pace, their arms around each other’s shoulders. If anyone had been watching all they would have seen was a calico cat sitting on the back of a young colt following a man in black robes.
Reya walked next to the boy, contemplating her failure to get past this hurdle in her training. Sir Talone was convinced that she could do this; she was not so sure. She knew that even talented Mirages for the most part never learned to take this step, to be able to separate themselves from the image they projected into the minds of all those in the immediate area. Reya laughed. Many people believed that a Mirage could change shape and become whatever they imagined. Reya wished that were true. Mirages could only convince the minds of others that they had changed shape. The trick was to convince the audience that they were seeing a bunny and not a girl. Reya smiled to herself. She was good at this, but failed to separate herself from the image. She had been trying to learn this step for several years without success. She wanted to give up, but Sir Talone was convinced that she was capable of this and so much more.
She just had to get past this bump. He compared the skill to wiggling one’s ears. You just have to figure out which muscles to move. Everyone was capable of learning to wiggle one’s ears, but few ever learned. Reya frowned. She couldn’t wiggle her ears either, unless of course she was a cat, or a bunny, horse, dragon or any of the other hundred images she could hold convincingly in the mind of her audience.
As they walked into camp, Lady Talone waved for them to wash up and be seated. When they were, she handed them large bowls of cooling soup and chunks of warm, buttered bread. The four sat in companionable silence as they ate. Reya looked at the young boy shoveling the soup into his mouth as if he were starving. Reya gave him a nudge on his foot to remind him that they may be out in the wilds, but his mother still expected courtly manners. The boy looked up at her questioningly, and then grinned his understanding around his mouth full of bread. His dirty blonde curls fell forward over his eyes as he straightened up and slowed his consumption. Reya grinned at him. He grinned back; his cheeks covered with a smattering of golden freckles. His bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Boy,” called his father, “Get everyone a cup of water.”
The boy quickly moved to do his bidding. Reya shook her head. He was the only one she knew with such a nickname. The only one who called him Benji was his mother. Everyone else followed his father’s lead and called him Boy. His father said he wasn’t a ‘Mann’ just yet.
After he had given Reya her cup of cool water, Boy attacked his food again.
“What have you been practicing?” Reya asked.
The boy blinked into several dogs, a bunny, and a log in quick succession before settling on a calico cat. The cat blinked up a Reya and stuck its tongue out at her. She laughed and reached forward to pat it on the head. The cat blinked into a large black snake. Reya startled and jerked her hand back, yelping in panic. In a blink, a calico cat sat where she had been. The boy reappeared. He laughed so hard tears tracked down his face. The other two adults paused in their conversation to look at the two younger ones.
Reya reappeared and waved that everything was fine. When they looked away, Reya hit the boy on the knee. “Shame on you.”
Laughing, he pointed a finger at her, “You should have seen your face.”
“You know how I feel about snakes, you little wart.”
“Well, you asked what I have been practicing, now didn’t you?”
“Just you wait, I will get you back,” Reya promised. Just as soon as she figured out how to separate from the image she was going to make a skunk appear in his bed. She smiled to herself. That would serve him right.
Chapter 2
The closer to home the coach traveled the more burdened Reya felt. She had enjoyed the week of camping at the old castle ruins. The fact that she had no major breakthroughs on this trip was not what caused the anxiety in the pit of her stomach.
She was twenty and one, more than old enough to be promised in marriage to strengthen her father’s position. It wasn’t that she minded not being married. She di
dn’t find the idea of marrying someone because they happened to be the son of someone in power a particularly thrilling idea. However, she knew that the only reason she wasn’t married was because her talent was her father’s shameful little secret. She knew that if his friends or enemies found out he would be discredited. Reya frowned at the hypocrisy of it all. Her father could employee Minders and Persuaders to do his dirty work, but a Mirage for a daughter would be a scandal that never died.
When she had first changed into the image of her favorite cat, Mimm, at the age of two, her father had thought seriously about sending her away. Her mother had been able to change his mind. After a search, her mother had Sir Talone and his wife come teach her to keep her talent a secret.
Reya snorted an unladylike sound. Little did her father know that instead of teaching her to repress it, Sir Talone taught her to use it to the limits of her ability, and still he pushed her to go farther.
When she mastered this next step of separating from the image, she would be considered an Allure. It would not be a step that her father would be tickled about if he knew. Allures were viewed in society as one step below gypsies and thieves. Probably, because that was how most of Allures used their talents, to steal and deceive.
Reya sighed heavily. Her father saw her as handicapped rather than gifted. She knew he did love her in his own way, but he was not proud of her. She tried hard to accept this reality, be happy with the love she unquestioningly received from the Talones, but her heart still ached to make her father proud.
The coach rumbled when the dirt of the road turned into the cobblestones of the city. “Almost home,” Reya heaved another sigh. She was back to guarding every thought, every action; forcing her mind to obey her. Every visible emotion scrutinized by others.
Reya struggled with the sudden surge of anger. She struggled to repress these emotions. She was so tired of being a pawn. If only she were someone else, someplace else. She would be free. She could live her life for herself. She would be out in the world with no one to think of but herself. And she could do it too. She was talented and young. She could take care of herself. Reya heaved a sigh and mentally shoved these thoughts to the bottom. She was born to a position of responsibility and not privilege she could hear her father’s voice reminding her.
