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Rated: 13+ · Book · Fantasy · #1514087
The Novel version of my Interactive story about a young wizards journey as a dragon rider.
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#666532 added October 10, 2009 at 4:34pm
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Chapter 1: The Black Army
This was first mission for his unit. Trent swallowed nervously as he thought about it. A tall young man of 16 with short and nearly strait brown hair. He had been unable to sleep, worried about the idea of the mission. Shifting uncomfortably in his worn down bed, he looked outside the window to see the night sky. It was dim, only about one hour to sun up, but the starlight still shown clearly. He sighed, slowly putting on the uniform placed at the foot of his bed. A black hooded tunic with matching slacks along with light leather armor placed on his forearms and shins, which was also black. It would be the last day home before he left, and he was determined to depart before his parents woke, hoping to take off without any trouble. The last thing they wanted was for Trent to go off to die in the war.





He scratched a quick note on a piece of paper, leaving it in his bed before grabbing his bag and walking out the room. All he was bringing with him was a bit of food, a couple of coins, and some extra clothing. Anything else would be confiscated on sight.





it was not completely unexpected. Throughout the town, people knew of Trent's magical ability. He cast his first spell at the age of three during his birthday party no less. Unfortunately, it also made him a quick target once the army had come.





In a place like Parcel, they did not expect to find much. There might have been a few physically able men, but nobody would have any combat experience. Therefore, when they heard of someone who was able to use magic in such a small trading town, they were amazed. Though there were many in the cities who studied it, most of those people were too important to risk in warfare. Scholars had the resources to learn properly and a few nobles had their children study it, but such people were impossible to drag into a draft. However, on occasion, they did join willingly. Usually for their own personal reasons. Besides, that training could take years. Anybody with that ability discovered so early would be shuffled off to a proper school as soon as any scholar or noble discovered them, hoping to "sponsor" them. It was just a method of earning more coin, but it created an irritating system for the military. Trent’s family however, had no means to send him to the proper school so he and his best friend, Felix Brombard who discovered his ability not two years later, never received the proper training.





To have someone who would be ready in a time of conflict, the military would need to search for someone with a natural affinity towards it. Someone not already sponsored. It was simply impossible to organize something like that in the city, where anybody with any ability was taken away from his or her families grasp almost immediately. However, in an out-of-the-way village like Parcel, it was another story.





Learning magic was supposedly difficult, even with the proper resources. A kid with access to it would be a great find for them. Not only that, but a Defensive affinity as well, and in a place like this, they would not have any problem with dragging them into the war. Therefore, as soon as they heard that there were a couple kids with one having that rare affinity, they began checking on everybody around his age.





They had stumbled on Felix first. He was on his way to visit Trent's house when they found him. From what he had described, it happened without him realizing it. One minute, he was in a small crowd with a few soldiers nearby, and the next, they were dragging him off, telling him of his new place in the army. Unfortunately, it meant that he had someone tailing him when he arrived at Trent's place later that day.





Still, he was lucky enough to stay at his home the day before the mission. The cavern they were attacking was close to Parcel and the small 30-man militia was camping in the town before the assault. Before the night ended, the captain gathered all the men in the town square and held a public meeting. Why, none could say, but most likely to ease the minds of the townsfolk. Having the army within the walls of the town put the people on edge. None more so than Trent’s parents. Sheila, A small, somewhat portly woman with long brown curls cascading down her neck, could not hold back the tears when the soldiers came to take her son away. His father, Thomas, was only slightly better taking up the job of comforting his wife. He was a slightly taller and thinner version of his wife with strait instead of curled hair running down to his shoulders of the same color. The actual plan spoken in the meeting came in five minutes, and simply went along the lines of, "Swarm the dragons, fast." Unfortunately, at that point, the attention was on him. He was the one with magic, and he was the one who was responsible for the whole thing because of it. Unfortunately, it just meant that he was to be blamed if anybody died.





His only solace would be his stay in his hometown before the event. Felix had been transferred a few days after he was discovered. Though he said he would try to write back, nobody in town had heard anything from him, to Trent’s disappointment. The army probably had him busy enough that he would not be able to leave. Still, as far as Trent knew, it would be his last day near the area as well. Even assuming he survived, he doubted that he could stay any longer, always being dragged to the next battle. He knew his doom was set the moment they had arrived.





In addition, chances were, it would not be pleasant, regardless of how it ended up. After the army found him, it was less than a day before they sent to the nearest training site. He had no experiences with the military other than through the stories he had heard, but he felt little gratitude towards it. Though the group expected him to practice magic, it seemed the only means they had to do so were some words written on a worn piece of parchment signed by a Jenelf Thompson. Whoever this was, Trent would make sure more description came next time.





In the end, they simply told him to figure it out himself. So, while the rest of the army was busy doing physical training, he was sitting in the corner, going through the words of the list in order, trying to decipher any meaning behind them and see which ones he was capable of using.





He managed to get a few reactions. He marked Terrestris Maceria on the list, seeing as these words resembled World barrier in the old tongue.'Hopefully this Jenelf knew what he was talking about...'





It seemed that much of the words for these spells were based off of that dead language. 'From what I can remember, no one has used that form of speak since before our ancestor's even arrived in Shoven. If it wasn't for the royal texts it would be a forgotten language as well as dead.'





After placing the warding spell Obex ut vox to prevent him from harming himself or others, in case the spell had effects greater than the caster could control,'Hopefully this Jenelf knew what he was talking about...', he tested the previously mentioned spell, an earthen wall had formed and he found that it was able withstand arrow and sword alike, but it had more trouble with maces and other heavy hammer weapons of that nature. However, it was also very draining. The young wizard concluded that he would more than likely get no more than four uses before he would be out of energy. It seemed all he needed to do was focus on the words and the target to get the spell to work.





Using the same method, he found that a dome of water appeared around him once Stagnum Tholus was recited. Noting that it was made of water, he decided it would not be the best idea for a test with weaponry this time around. Fire, however, was another story, particularly Dragon fire.





Drawing a crowd around himself and becoming a bit nervous as well, he recited the next spell on the list. At first, Strictura Callum had as much effect on him as a cool breeze. Looking about himself, he noted that indeed there was no change. A scream resonated through the area followed by another. Quickly looking up you noticed why. The spell had apparently taken effect not on the wizard, but on the soldiers around him.





“That’s it; I was focusing on them instead of myself. I guess this guy really knows his stuff.”





The rush of exhaustion that happened afterword however made him think twice on casting that on a group a second time. Still, as the time to attack crept ever closer, it did not feel like his work would do much good. As he began walking down the road to where the army would be camped, following it until the fires that lit the area appeared in his sight. With a sigh, he walked through, ignored by most of the men talking amongst themselves. While a few gave him a simple greeting, he did not have any real connection to any of them, always responding quickly until he made his way to the commander.





"Took you long enough. We are supposed to leave at sun-up. You were to be here with enough time to prepare. "





"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know that it would be important for me to be here while everybody prepared. Besides, I have little to carry. I am well prepared."





“Bah. Least you are here now. You had better be paying attention when we arrive. Everyone needs to here the briefing"





“Haven’t you already given the briefing in town sir?”





“Are you insane boy?! Why the hell would that be done in public? I had to get them to calm down somehow and that was the best way. Though I’m coming to regret it, gave us too much damn attention.”





Trent gave a small, confused nod, looking at the man's face, staring slowly and not speaking a word. He felt a level of apprehension as he left the encampment, sitting down on the grass and watching as the stars faded from the night sky.





"Slaying a dragon, huh..." He muttered to himself quietly, not feeling the excitement that the men around him seemed to have. He had never seen a dragon before, and while he had heard the stories that everybody else had, he had never been able to gather the same fear or emotion that others had. Something always felt off, and he wanted to understand exactly what it was.





Trent did not do very much when the time came. He already had everything that he was going to bring packed up, and all he did was sit and think as the tents went down and the men rushed about for any last-minute things. He tried to get himself motivated as the sounds around him rose, the shuffling of boots and the clanging of metal echoing through his ears. However, when the time came, he was unable to do anything but stand up and look around as the men quietly moved into formation, his feet dragging themselves along as he moved towards the back of it.





He had heard the commander starting to make a speech, but his voice sounded dull as his words passed over Trent's ears. The men around him were looking forward and listening with rapt attention, but he stared at the ground, unable to force himself to pay attention. ‘This must be the briefing he was talking about.’ His feelings were half-hearted, and though he wanted to take care of his home as they said he would be doing, there was still something off about the entire thing. He tried to force himself to look up, and to have the same enthusiastic expression that he saw all around him. He heard bits and pieces of the speech, but did not care to try to piece it together. Just a repeat about the good they would be doing, about how they had to keep aware as they moved or they would be killed, and about how they each had a duty to do this. Always the same dribble as in the cities.





"This is a duty, huh... I wish it was someone else's duty." He muttered to himself, not expecting anybody to hear him. He got a smack along the back of the head by one of the men standing next to him, forcing him to wince a little. However, he stood in place, not making a sound, knowing it would be worse if he shouted during such an "inspirational' speech.





He did not really remember anything else after that. When the marching started, the wizard did his best to keep up with the men. However, he was grateful that he only needed to stay in the back. At least that way, nobody would see the expression he had as he marched. He hoped that he would at least manage to get to the cave alive, and that he might figure out how he was supposed to feel when he saw the dragons for himself.
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