could feel the magic woven into wings unraveling.
Mal had already fortunately taken notice of Trinity's slipping grip behind him and wisely directed Percival into a cautious descent. But even having tried to prepare him to expect her growing fatigue it still stole his breath as the spell-wings dissolved before his eyes. Without time left to gauge how far they had left to fall, Mal had to reserve himself to allowing his reflexes to lock a firm hold on his passenger and the reins.
Percival's steel shod hooves hammered into the ground with a hard clap that made even Mal's belly roll and protest. Shaken by the impact it took a few moments before he had to remind himself to open his eyes. He still had a vice like grasp on Trinity and Percival was loudly voicing his own desire to never ever be given wings again. The stalwart steed tenderly babied his now aching legs that were gratefully once more touching something with more substance than empty air.
"That was a close one," Camden nervously noted hovering overhead until he caught sight of his sister's limp form. "Trin," he screamed, panic and worry seizing him to the core as he almost leapt from the dragon's back. A single barked word, uttered with the clear tone of authority trumpeted out of Mal to slam itself home into Camden as sure as any blow.
"Halt," the weary warrior ordered. The sudden shock was all Mal needed to redirect Camden's intended action and allow himself to marshal his mind to address their available courses of action. "Our task hasn't changed, indeed if anything it has become even more vital that we safeguard your sister. We are also obligated to warn the king about the threat to the kingdom. Our wisest option lay in doing both; we must make for Oakhelm Keep! It is the strongest defendable position within the realm and home to the throne. Once there we can rally the realm and prepare ourselves against whatever has escaped from the Vault."
Camden grimly took in everything Mal said, without any thought of question or dispute. His only concern right now was to get his sister to safety and swiftly. If that meant Oakhelm Keep, then that is where they would head. "Then let's not waste any more time, we have ground to cover," Camden urged his newfound mentor.
"No time to tend our wounds, nor wounded pride," Mal whispered at Percival’s ear. "We are needed, desperately once more to heed the call to duty. What do you say old friend?"
Percival planted his feet, his stance one of a statuesque knight's noble steed and snorted. "Thought so," Mal remarked to himself with a lopsided grin before spurring his mount into motion. This was a far cry from any kind of retirement he had ever heard of, Mal mentally noted to his self. But he was now starting to think retirement was never something meant for him.
- Episode 36 -
"Eh, would you look at that," a tower guard muttered through his slack jaw. He watched in complete disbelief as a man was riding up with the bearing and confidence of seasoned veteran assured that his orders would be accepted. As he rode towards them they noticed the limp form of a lady slumped over on the man's mount being supported by a muscled arm draped around her.
Approaching from just behind them was a sight that nobody would have believed; he had to blink several times to make sure. It was a dragon, an honest to heralds scale covered dragon and it even had a boy upon its back. As he opened his mouth to speak he found himself immediately cut off by a guard beside him.
"Nope, the watch captain isn't going to believe this one so you can have the honor of being laughed at." Neither guard moved an inch as the man allowed his steed to slow to a stop before he hailed them. "Grant us entry and make haste," the proud figure bellowed up at them. "Inform your captain that Malthurion Abardeen would like a word and send for the royal page to request an emergency audience."
Blank stares and empty mouths answered Mal's request prompting him to reinforce his urgency. "Move," he roared fire lighting his face and the peal of thunder in his tone. All at once both guards exploded into motion slamming into each other before racing off into the keep.
"Mal, why is this place even called Oakhelm Keep anyways," Camden had finally managed to bring himself to ask while they waited for entry. "The keep itself, it isn't stone, it is made of aged wood that has become like stone. It is very old and has survived countless assaults as such it is a helm of oak far more valued than any shaped steel. It keeps the king safe, and while we are within it I would ask that you try to refrain from anything foolish."
As the gate slowly cranked open Mal turned to level a stern expression towards Camden. "Not everyone has seen a dragon, much less found themselves on nearly as friendly terms. I would think it wise to keep close to it and neither of you wander off into mischief."
"Who, me," Camden asked with a grin. But after seeing the guard's face as he saw the dragon up close made Camden realize that Mal had indeed been right. There was a mixture of amazement and terror there at being this close to a dragon. He almost wished he could have just waited out here but he couldn't leave Trinity alone locked away inside the keep. And if this was the safest place then being inside to make it just a small measure safer is where he would be.
- Episode 37 -
Tonniel Rainborne had been king to the realm for many years, succeeding his father as a young man he had been forced to temper himself through tumultuous times. The young ruler had always relied upon wise and capable figures such as Mal to provide him counsel, trusting as his father had in their sound judgment. Over time Tonniel had come to leverage his own keen mind and proven that he had learned greatly from those around him. It was a day filled with sadness however when he granted Mal his leave and bid him farewell. And yet, here he was being told that one of his most respected champions had returned seeking an urgent audience. Curiously he couldn't help but wonder what could have prompted the old hero's return but prudence warned him that whatever it was - it certainly wasn't good.
"Very well," the king conceded with a slight wave of his right hand, his left still cradling his chin in contemplation. "Bid my old and trusty former knight to bring his concerns before me. It is the least I can do to repay his long and fruitful years of service by hearing him out." Silently the awkward young page rose from his customary kneeling position to bow curtly before making his exit, careful to keep his pace proper before slipping into a sprint just two steps out of the throne room. It always made Tonniel chuckle to watch his page drop his royal etiquette the second he thought he was out of sight. If only the lad knew that if he had waited only a few steps more that no one could notice or let alone that it truly mattered enough to hide.
It was Mal who he recalled had taught him that lesson; that the importance of a task far out weighed the presentation. All the fancy words and well presented fluff meant little compared to weather or not something was done. "What was it that he used to always say," the king quietly asked himself trying to spark his memory. "Oh, yes; 'a stout blade no matter how crude is worth well over twice its number whose only use is being shiny and new'."
When he was but still a young lad following at his father's heels the notion had always puzzled him. He riddled over how something so plain or simple could ever truly be worth more than anything crafted with refinement or artistry. After one lesson with Mal in the yard he quickly found a firmly grasped understanding as he starred at a shattered, yet elegant, sword hilt in his hand. No matter how beautiful it had been the blade had proven worthless when set against a simpler piece of steel. It was on that very day Tonniel opened his eyes to the true worth of the old knight that had always served his father and set himself to dutifully study at everything that he could teach him.
Those lessons had always served him well over the years, but he had still missed his absent mentor. Now he had returned, but what trouble could have brought him back? The thought darkened his mood slightly as he waited for Mal's arrival to be announced. Times of late had been peaceful for a change but all things change he supposed. A strong simple steel sword without any adornment rested beside the throne however. Even in times of peace it paid to be prepared, his old mentor had truly taught him well.
-
Episode 38 -
"I see the sun still shines upon the Silver Hall King Rainborne," Mal hadn't forgotten the customary greeting used when arriving before the king. Never one to waste time or bow to empty formalities he only did so out of respect for Tonniel, a boy who now king had proven his mettle to him long ago. He still wore both his steel studded coat as well as his trusty old blade at his side even though anyone else would have been forced to surrender such things before even being considered to set foot before the king. The truth of the matter was that none still served the king who probably could have managed to force him to comply, or quite honestly could have even had the courage to try. Even though it had been years since his booted steps had echoed across these hallowed halls, his name was still revered in whispers and his deeds talked of with wide-eyed wonder.
Now, Malthurion Abardeen, the storied knight himself was standing before them and so far none had been able to find their voice in his presence. The king himself was hard pressed to resist a grin when his eyes finally
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