%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
In Zhurong there is only one kind of evil... |
| [Introduction]
Enchanters are Men from the beginning of time, trained in the art of Magic, a source of energy found in the minds of a select few, and this energy is to be used only for the goodness of the People that are not as Bless'd as they. Or atleast that's how it should be... In the third Tyrian Dynesty there was an Enchanter that was known by the name - Ingresobes. His title was 'The IMPERIAL VASIR', their protector and advisor. But he was taken up by his greed, he became Evil. Over the years he created an army of Enchanters and then stormed the Imperial Palace. The last line of the Emperor was destroyed and everyone who had a claim on the throne killed. Ingresobes was now the ruler of everything. Any man or enchanter that stood against him disappeared into his cellars and slowly the times that had once been so happy were lost. With Ingresobes as their leader all Enchanters were put up to the highest status possible, everyone that was not of importance was considered nothing compared to them and little by little it became apparent that Men were becoming no more than slaves, with a minority even being allowed to attend schools. And there was no way they could change it. Or so they believed. Before Enchanters there was one other, the Dreamer. The Dreamer was far more powerful than anything else had ever been. She was a spirit that did not rest on Zhurong alone, travelling from world to world like a mortal would go from house to house. When she returned to Zhurong she saw what had happened and was thoughtful. She fell into a deep trance, dreaming up a solution. When she awoke she realised that now was the time for the six keepers to be revealed. Through out the lands went a terrible song, echoing through dreams, tearing through the minds that were awake. Six of them heard the words, a prophecy of Knowledge that the Creator had laid down at the start. They were only babes at the time but the seeds of rebellion were already set in their hearts and 15 years later they were ready... |
(In your first turn please can you right a bio block like mine, thanks.) Name: Draco Silverwing Age: 16, (13months old when the song was heard.) Gender: Male Race and Status in Zhurong: Wyvern, he's unemployed as he refuses point balck to work for an Enchanter. Because he's the son of a servent he's very low down on the scale. Appearence: Draco is tall and well built, his black hair is traced through with silver and red and reaches down to his waist. He has a tanned complexion but crystal blue eyes, so intense it is hard to look straight into them. On his back are two elaborately etched wings that he has had ever since he can remember. This is cover most of the time by his black, scruffy clothes. However he has discovered that he can make them grow from his shoulder blades when he wants them too and goes flying almost every night. They spread like the wings of a raven, stretching out to carry him out into freedom. Personality: He has always been a rebel, never doing as he was told. He hates authority, seeing it as a prison, a cage from which he longs to break free. He hates all enchanters especially, they have always misused him and so he loathes them. He beleives he is alone as his mother once screamed for all to hear that she hated him and since then he has seen himself as seperate, unloved. Trust is something a person really has to earn with him but he will stick by the people he does care about until the end. In a way he has two sides, the rebel - wild and trying to break free and the thinker - thoughtful and loyal. History : His father and mother were loyal sevents of the Lord of Wyvern but when he refused to go into service his mother lost it, shrieking at him to leave, that she was nolonger her son and that he was the spawn of evil. This hit him hard and that was when he ran from his home to the main capital of Zhurong. Here he's been hanging around in the small groups of teenagers that dislike the enchanters. But unlike him they are to scared to even think of anything that might help them. A few months after he left the gangs he discovered that he could take off into the skies on his great black wings. Since then he's been trying to figure out the magic he feels in his veins and after that finding out why. Weapons/ Magic: So far he only knows how to use his Wings. However he is good at hand to hand combat and alright at sword fighting. Normally he simply uses knives. He only fights when he is attacked or provoked. He does not do it for fun. |
| Name: Age: 18 (she was 3 years old when she heard the song) Gender: Female Race and Status in Zhurong:Half Breed, her mother was a mortal, her father an enchantress who thought he would have some fun, only realising to late that his victim bore his child. He killed her mother but could not get get to her, because her grandmother fled with her. She is a wanted criminal with a price on her head. She is strange for a half breed and carries all of her fathers powers. He hates her and nobody knows she is his daughter, such scandal would throw him out of office for good. She has murdered 3 enchanters, but will not stop till she has full revenge. Appearence: She is slight and supple with flaming golden eyes, like a cats. Her long tangled hair is firey in colour and falls to her mid back although she usually wears it hidden beneath a black cap. She dresses in black rags and tries to cover up most of her tanned skin as it stands out. Personality: She has a fiery temper and serious mood swings. She can go from calm to furious in seconds and trusts nobody, staying in one place for almost no time at all. History: The grandmother who saved her died when she was five and since then she has taken care of herself. Weapons/Magic: She has all of her fathers powers, which is extremely uncommon. She knows how to use most of them effectively but prefers more quiet weapons as any enchanter can feel her magic unless she covered it very well. She had not quite mastered this yet so doing it sapped her of a lot of energy. She loves her sling and pierces of sharpened crystal which she fires from it, she also has a slender beautifully shaped sword which has several enchantments on it. |
Draco flew, his wings taking him towards a freedom he longed for but knew was impossible to touch. He flew as swift as any river and was just a black secret like what lay on the dark side of every moon around Zhurong. That night he was above the city's slums. His great wings stretching out like long shadows, slowly passing over the grouds below. No one was allowed out at night by law but tonight there was more than just himself hanging around. Dark cloaked figure were tracing a path down the dark alleys. He flew lower, just out of their way, something about them drew his attention. Were they enchanters? Hatred rose up in his chest and he drew out a knife, contemplating throwing it. The strangers came to a door and one rapped on with a large, ebony stick. There was nothing for a moment and then an old man appeared at the window beside it. Fear passed over his face like a dark cloud but he came to the door and opened it. "My lords..." Enchanters! Draco aimed and as the knife began to fly in his hand it stopped, unable to move. Sensing around he saw a pair of cat like eyes peering at him from the darkness. He snarled, knowing that he was a prisoner in their grip. It had been a trap... Or was it... The eyes looked out at him with a mixture of intrest and dislike. He beat his wings and forced him arm painfully through the air to hang at his side. You can't take me. He thought to himself, I won't let you... <Funny, I thought I had you....> An icy, female, voice rang in his head. Mind speech.... That was not right, there was no such thing as a woman enchanter.... <There is now... Draco...> She was alone, hiding in the dark of an empty house. She was confident and unaware of his presence in her mind. Carefully, subtley he weakened her grip on his mind and with a sudden yell he found himself free, flying like an arrow towards her. Fiery hair scattered across the floor as she hit ground. He sat on top of her, holding her arms down so she could not fight him, a tremor of surprise ran through him, it had worked, that was the first thing he had ever used mind magic... "Enchanter!" She screamed. With a wry smile he shook his head, "No way mate, I'm just like you, I'm different." |
| "Urgh, you brute get off me!" she yelled and suddenly she was up a flaming fire ball in each hand. She saw the boy stammer back in surprise, obviously he wasn't used females fighting back. "Who are you then?" she asked in a low growl, keeping her fire balls alight in each hand. He stared back at her his scowl very pronounced. "None of your god-damned business." he spat, "what the hell were YOU doing, spying on me like that, enchantress." He said the last word under his breath but she caught it anyway. "What did you call me?" she asked icily cold, the fireballs suddenly turning to lumps of blazing ice. "What?" he asked nodding at the fireballs, "it's not exactly easy to miss." She started to seeth with pure raw anger, "Oh trust me mate, It won't be easy to miss in a minute." but what ever spell she had been about to cast was cut short by the stream of voices and light coming from the end of the narrow alley. With a curse she remembered the people she had been tracking in the first place. "This is not over human," she said to the boy, before dropping to the ground and becoming one with the shadows around her. |
| Name: Tyr Alrea Age: 18 Gender: Male Race and status in Zhurong: Dane; deposed prince, currently a fisherman..very low on scale. Appearance: Tall and dark. He has shaggy black hair and blue/grey eyes like the sea. He has a tanned complection but his face is worn and tired as if he has already lived one lifetime. There is a deep anger and pain behind his eyes. His hands are covered in a network of intricate scars and the feeling of old magic sticks to him like a cloak. Personality: Quiet, solemn and patient and kind to the people. He has a underlying current of anger and resentment. He also has a one track mind of achieving his goal. History: Born the younger prince of Daneland, a small province to the east, rich in natural resources. It is famous for its fish and its swordsmen. It is also a land of old magic, magic that hasn't shown itself in centuries. The Enchanters fought a brief war but bloody war for its resources and won when Tyr was 10. In the end, Tyr's father was killed and the country's enconomy was shattered and the people now scrape by a living with most of their resources going to the enchanters. Tyr, angered by the result, went to kill the Enchanters when he was 14 so he could get back his land and give it to his older brother and thus free his people. He didn't know what he had gotten himself into however and was easily captured by the Enchanters who sensed the old magic on him. Curious by what is was they kept him locked in a dungeon and when they couldn't figure out with they sensed they tortured him until they decided it didn't matter. During this time Tyr's hatred and resolve grew. When he was released two years later he travelled to the coast, older and wiser, became a fisherman and began to plot how to take back his country for his brother and for the sake of his people. Magic/Weapon: old magic and his sword. He was trained by his older brother with the sword and like many of his people is very good with it. |
Human! No one would call him a human and get away with it! With an angry snarl he lept at her retreating back. He was a Wyvern, not a human by any stretch of the imagination. She screamed as he landed on her for the second time but then a voice ripped through his thoughts. "Please jus'a leave me alone. I've done nothin' to ye nor any other Lord Enchanter..." "Be quiet old man." That voice... Something rang in his memories, a voice laughing at him as he was beaten, a voice that had fallen silent when he had refused to work. A voice that was full of such greed and malice he could never forget it, "I have something that only you can reforge, something that if you make will save youself alot of pain. Now will you make it or do I have to lose my temper first?" "Sir! The forge is all but cold! I would need more than my own hands for what you ask... An amulet... Of silver... It is a difficult job..." "Edevore of Mandon, do you remember a certain... Ring... That you made me all those years ago?" The man gulped and Draco stood, slowly, a strange expression on his face, "Srokel Wyvern, so nice to fianlly meet you..." He urmered and he lifted the girl up by her arm. "I don't care what you're doing but let me kill that man at the end of it and I swear that I will help you." She looked at him, "I don't need your help human." He growled slightly, "You will... That man took over my lands even before I was born, I know him, I hate him but you... You had the nerve to even attempt magic within his presence -" "So did you! You were using wings!" "Those are natural. I' m not a human." he delighted in the realisation that fled across her face then it was gone and she was nodding. "Very well. I accept - your help. The old man is an enchanter that gave up the majoity of his magic to become a silversmith, his name is Edevore, son of Mandon, from Shand I beleive, but he does not matter much. The one that matters is the Enchanter that you spoke of, he's not really here for the sole purpose of having an amulet fixed, his real aim is to get inside the house, and find the man inside it. Tyr Alrea. Srokel has discovered that Tyr has traces of old Magic and he realised that if he could get his hands on it...." "Enchanters would know everything... Even how to destroy Prophecy." He did not know why he said it but it poured out of his mouth like a dream, "Like ours." |
| "Meaning what exactly?" she asked turning to stare deep into his eyes. She sent her mind forward and found it immediately, the song, just there exactly as was hers. He looked at her angrily, "stop that he almost shouted but managed to control himself, she could not help but smile, "what's your name?" he asked still seething. She was taken aback by the question, "I..I don't know." she confessed. A bang cut their conversation short, quietly creeping forward they peered around the end of the street to see the old man writhing on the floor, he was obviously in great pain. She clutched at Draco's hand unbidden tears falling down her cheeks, such pain was not meant for mortals or enchanters. Stepping out from the shadows that had concealed her she shouted angrily at the enchanter, pulling off her cap so there was no chance that he would not know who she was. "Hey, scum bag, why not pick on someone your own size?" He turned to look at her and she almost flinched as his steely gaze bore past at her trying to gain access to her mind. She took a deep breath and drew in her power, thrusting back with all of her considerable might. To her utter dismay, the enchanter didn't seem to have noticed. He had withdrawn his power from her head, yes, but why? That was when she heard someone come to stand behind her, "So, enchanter," came Draco's voice, but she knew that underneath he was petrified, curse my thoughtlessness she thought. It is my BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! |
| Name: Tori mylinte age: 14 race: myrene, the last left of gender: female appearence: she has brown hair that falls to her shoulders, and warm hazel eyes that change from blue to green,to grey, to brown. he nose is straight and her skin unblemished, (unlike most teenagers) and she would do anything for someone she thought was her parents. Tori is around 5ft9 and is quite slight and still a young girl at heart. personality: kind, clever and trusting, she is still a young girl who thinks she is an orphan, (though her parents aren't really dead.)she is weakminded, but knows in her blood that her parents are out their, somewhere. she hasn't really made up her mind about sorcerers, but had an odd experience once when a slave in the market (her mother) called out her name, screaming 'my child' as she was dragged away. this haunts her mind, and she has kept the locket thatthe slave through for her, though she can't open it. (she needs to use her majick) majick: Tori is the key to the prophecy, and is pure majick, not flesh and blood. she does not know this, but she potentially has the power to recreate the world or destroy it, with her hipnotic eyes and power over all old majick. she has never tried to create magic but when she will, it will be powerful, it's just a question of who gets there first. history: born in secrecy as her fleeing parents were trying to protect her from her destiny, which is to be a pawn in a big people's world. she knows nothing of her race, her powers or her history, and of the deep magick that lurks all around her and in her veins. before she was born a prophesy was made that the last of the myrene would be either the key to destroying all the pure majick or unleashing it in those whose has died, and she is the key to the sorcerers or the rebels victory. her secret has been found out though, by both sides, and the legend goes that the side she joins will be all-powerful. she knows nothing of this, or her future. ********************************************** Tori sat glumly on the steps of the orphange, clutching a random locket in her hands and gazing stubbornly at its strange clasp. she had been trying to open it for months now, but when she asked for the help of her nurse the nurse had shrieked and dropped it snapping 'old majick! where did you get this you vile girl. it is simply infused with old majick, it burns to the touch and trys to destroy the world!' unknown to both tori and the nurse there wasn't much more than a trickle of magic in there, what she had felt was the residue of tori's magic. Tori had been shocked and had grabbed it back hastily, it comforted her, not burned, and holding it in her fingers gave her a pleasent sense of history, of reaching up to touch it, holding someones soft hand, and warm summers evenings smelling of musk. 'i probably made it up in my head, i've never known my mother, how could i remember seeing her?' she thought to herself silently, not knowing that someone had built a wall in her head to protect her from the truth. Sighing huskily she stood, not noticing the locket glow blue in her hands as she passed by a two people in the street opposite, one holding balls of ice and the other with small wings. Not noticing them stare in wonder at her as she turned and climbed through the hole in the fence, back to her room. |
| Tyr buried his nose in some unidentifiable drink that soothed his soul. The room he sat in was small and full of others who rented rooms from the odd little man who owned the building. They all smelled of fish and brine and salt coated their calloused hands. Tyr studied his own, feeling the hard skin that was beginning to form over the network of fine scars. He had calloused hands once before, long ago, when he would help the fishmen in his country far to the east. But that was a long time ago. A life time ago. Sometimes he wondered why he had even left. He pulled on his sword with practiced hands and announced to an empty, crumbling hall that he was leaving. He turned but Abelard appeared out of the shadows and caught his elbow. "Boy, where are going? What are you going to do?" He stood defiantly, eyes blazing. "I am going to get our land back. I am going to kill the Enchanters or put them in enough misery that they will give it back to us..and then Aidon can rule as he was ment to. I'm going to get back our country and give it as a gift to Aidon." Abelard eyes closed momentarily then opened, relfecting deep pain and pity. "Tyr," he said softly, "I know you love an honor your brother more than anything...but, you a rash boy going against Enchanters..." "This land had old magic once, a long time ago..." "That's as maybe," Abelard continued, voice gentle, "but when you get it back...Tyr...You had to help him build a tower out of his blocks this morning..." "The floor was uneven, even I had trouble," Tyr said shifting his feet uncomfortably on the cracked stone beneath his feet. "Tyr, you know he can't. He has the mind of a five year old child...he" "He can! When I get Daneland back he will come to his senses. He will be like he was before the war. He will rule...he has to... "He has to," Tyr echoed his memory softly. A lump suddenly formed in his throat and he coughed, straigtened then drowned it in liquid. He was suddenly aware then the room had grown quiet and horrible noises were being heard from the entrance way. Tyr stood abruptly. "Back door," he commanded in a low voice. "Go quietly, go." The fishermen stood slowly and followed his commands. They knew this strange man from the east with his black hair and haunted eyes. They had seen him work the sea and share their comradery. They saw him command with unconcious sureity and they trusted him. He watched them leave but didn't follow them. This was possibly a chance for a small taste of revenge. He moved his hand over the hilt of his sword, feeling the leather mold into his hand. He moved through doorways into the entrance way and saw the odd little man on the floor. The Enchanter was outside, luckily being distracted by something he couldn't see. He grabbed the man by his armpits and dragged him to the side and propped him in a corner. He checked pusle, heart, and eyes. The man was still alive. He forced some water down his throat and stood. The Enchanter was still there. He put his hand on his sword and hoped he wasn't going to make a rash mistake. |
"Remember me?" he asked, ice lashing his tongue, his hatred ran so deep it scared him but he did not fear this encanter, it was just a man infront of him that could do no more to him than he already had done. "No. Should I?" Srokel stood, an air of nonchalence in his stance, his eye brows were raised in mock confusion. The plastic smile playing over his lips. "You better remember it from now on Enchanter," He spat out the words, "I'm going to destroy you and all you symbolise." "Is that a threat? From what? A meer human?" Srokel sighed, "What a terribly pointless jumble of nonsense -" "I am Draco Silverwing. I'm more than you will ever be..." <Don't you dare mention the prophecy! He mustn't know!> the nameless girl's voice screeched through his head. <I'm not going to!> A sudden cry came from inside of the inn. A man, sword flashing through the air attacked the Enchanter. Draco lurched forward, no one was going to take his revenge away from him! A hand grabbed his arm. "No!" Nameless hissed, "That's Tyr!" "I don't care! I want the Enchanter Dead!" Great balck wings sprung from his skin, his body flying straight at the fighting pair, one with blade one with magic. But he would be the one to kill the Enchanter, no matter what the girl wanted. |
| "MEN!!!!" she moaned before throwing herself at the two fighting men, "He's gone, HE'S GONE!!" Tyr and Draco stopped fighting to look up at her, "He must of disaperated in the confusion." she told them briskly, "now if you two will stop trying to kill each other, maybe we can get some information out of this old bloke." she gestured to where Edavore was lieing in the dirt. Draco shook his head in disgust, "You waste your time with the old man, I'm finding Srokel." with that he spread his considerable wings and launched himself into the air. She watched him go with distaste burning behind a mask of indifference. "Come on, help me with him." Tyr told her Ripping her eyes away from the dot in the sky she nodded glumly and helped Tyr carry the man into the pub. |
| NB i have descided not to make my character not THE key to the prophecy, but one of the few 'keys' to it, ie. you need everyone to make it work, and if one switches sides, you are truly screwed. Tori hid behind the dumpster, puzzling over her locket, again. trying to open it, but failing miserably. She was getting more and more annoyed with her futile attempts, till at last she chucked into her lap shouting 'Open,' and to her suprise, it did, revealing a picture of a beautiful young woman, and a small scroll of paper. 'The will and the word is all you need.' it said on it, and started moving, flashing her scenes of what appeared to be a life, her life. She stared in shock as her history was layed out infront of her, down to the very last detail, until it faded. "so that was why it happened," she said quietly to herself, pausing for thought, " then that means, all that the nurse told me were lies, and.... that sorcerers aren't all that brilliance nurse made them out to be." she placed the scroll on the girls face, and smiled weakly at it, guessing who it was instantly, her mother. "Close," she said mustering up her will, and it did, flying onto her neck as she ran from the orphanage, blissfully unaware of the spies that were littered around her. Running straight into the back of a young woman. |
| Name: Dark Malachite Age: 15 Gender: Male Status in Zhurong: He's an Enchanter's apprentice. Appearence: He's small, about 5'3 but he is starting to grow. He has sandy blond hair that as an apprentice he has to cut quite short, however he pushes the boundries to the edge, leaving it long enough to spike up in little tufts. He has dangerous green eyes that are usually as dark as a storm. He only ever wears black because as an apprentice he is only allowed that one colour however he has a whole selection of bright reds and dark greens, he wears whatever the enchanters hate most that's why he's peirced his ear in four places and made an illusion tattoo on one of his arms. Personality: He hates the enchanters but he doesn't know why, his gift was discovered years before and stretches far further than anyone knows. He loves to break the rules, and although he pretends to be very servent he's really a very clever, very cunning illusionist. He generally dislikes people but only because he beleives that everyone loves the enchnaters. If he ever found someone that agreed with his views, that believed that there was more to the world than the power of enchanters than he would stick by them for the world. History: When he was little older than three his gift was discovered and he was taken to the Institution. He's been with them ever since, his powers growing greater day by day. Magic: Illusionist/ rogue enchanter |
| With the girls help, he dragged the man to the inn and sat him limply in a chair. Tyr knelt and felt the man's forehead with the back of his scarred hand. "I have no hand in healing, have you?" he asked the girl. He had been close. But what did killing one of them accomplish? Nothing. He would have been no closer to regaining Daneland. No closer.. "No," the girl said as she passed him a rag, damp with water from the kitchen. She watched him kneel again to tend to the man and found a memory in his mind. But I do see a prophecy that I know In a flash a door shut in Tyr's mind and he looked up, a storm coming into the sea of his eyes. "Don't do that," he hissed dangerously. "And I don't know what you're talking about." "Yes, you do," she retorted, "I saw it there. How did you close me off?" "Well even if I do know what you're talking about," he said rising to his feet, "I decided I had bigger problems...years ago. And I don't know what you mean by 'close you off' and I don't want to know. Now, thank you for your help with him." He turned. "That enchanter was after you." Tyr paused and closed his eyes. Slowly he rubbed his hands together trying to erase memory. The old scars began to throb in a slow, steady beat. "I thought they were done with me, done searching for something that's buried itself so deep I don't think it will ever resurface. I'll I want to do is help my people...my brother," he added in a whisper. He looked over his shoulder and saw a younger girl who had run into the elder and distracted her. He walked to the window and looked across the fields and dales toward his land of sheep and fishermen. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something odd fly across the moon. |
So he had lost the Enchanter, just like he had let the chances slip time and time again. Draco was perched on the roof and a temple, sitting beside on of its many gargoyles. He groaned, leaning heavily on its shoulder. He often came up to sit with the stone monsters and from where he was he could still see the little inn he had left behind. Beneath him, far below on the white marble steps was a girl, she had been there ever since he had arrived, just sitting there, as if waiting for something. For some reason he found his angry thoughts turning away from the Enchanter and focusing in on the stranger. She was young, very young and alone. It was not that odd to in her position but for some reason he still felt that something was wrong with her. He was not the only one. "Oi you!" A voice bellowed from outside his sight. She looked up, brown hair catching in the breeze, her face suddenly becoming all to clear. She was afraid and sheb was looking straight at him. Her eyes, so far away and yet to close for comfort pleading for help, his help. Groaning he knew what he had to do, all memory of losing Srokel banished. Red armoured watchmen, petty enchanters, ran at the girl, they were going to hurt her. He stread his great black wings and dark shadows lept across the ground. It was broad daylight, but he knew beyond a doubt that what he was doing was right. He plumetted, wings close in at his sides, his arms caught the girl around the waist, and he pulled up, wings beating quickly agaist the wind. "Come back here!" Someone cried but he did not care. "Oh GET A LIFE!!!" The young girl shouted back at them, sticking er tongue out. He stopped, mid air, looking back and waved, now he had one on them too. A thought crossed his mind as he started moving again, where was he going to take her now, the Enchanters would be looking of her and himself... Go back to the Nameless girl, she'll help you... |
| She was puzzled, and it didn't happen often, he had blocked her. That had never happened before, usually she could read anybody, even an unskilled enchanter without detection, except of course Draco, but she would of expected it of him, after their history. Her attention was suddenly caught by the shape that was coming towards them. With a cry she realised that Draco was back, with another girl. She heard it immediately, the song was very strong, made from the heart of this limp figure that Draco was carrying. "Qickly, help me, enchanters guards, hide." Draco managed to pant before he came to land and stood clutching his side and trying to regain his breath. Without any enquieries she shot up and grabbed the girls hand "Common' you've got to get inside, fast, and you Draco." "Mother? Serina?" she whispered. She was so shocked that she froze, still and could not move. Serina, Serina, a name? a prophecy, a frozen cry,an awesome power, a miserable child, left to die. Serina numbly felt cold steel press to her throat, with a bang, she came back to reality, only to find herself surrounded by soldiers, a knife pressed to her throat. She looked around desperately, but the others had vanished. |
| Tori stood in shock, looking numbly at the woman in front of her and the man with wings. this was strange, even for her. "I worked out how to open it, the locket. look." she muttered something and the locket flew into her hand, open. "look," tori said, and picked up the parchment. she could feel draco close in, curious. "by the dreamer's good grace i have a name," seina said in a state of shock. "And apparently you have a daughter too." draco said slyly, " but if we don't hide now we shall be in serious trouble. By trouble i mean dead, chopped to bits, sacrificed and burnt." "yes, that would be trouble." serina muttered, " but are you saying you couldn't hold them off?" "How dare yuou! i can hold them off perfeclty fine. i was simply worried about her." Draco retorted, his face contorting. "well, excuse me, but i don't particularlly feel like being in 'Trouble' just now, maybe we should continue this later," tori exclaimed quickly giving a panicked look at the street around them and instinctively clining on to draco's clothes. |
The Enchanter's had chased the Winged creature right to where a girl now stood, alone, at the point of their spears. Dark was watching from behind them, he was incharge of this operation and he knew what he was supposed to do, order her interegation back at the temple, then her immediate death.... But he did not want to... He did ot knw why, he cared noting for her, her did not even know her, but before.... She had been in a trance, something caused by magic and her fellows had abandoned her, obviously. She looked abuot, a furious anger in her eyes, and beneath that, hatred. Her eyes scanned them all over, until they locked onto his. A song began to burn in his mind, one that he knew so well but knew so little about... She was showing him it... it was her doing that he was hearing this... Something in those ferocious eyes faded as she stared deeper and deeper... <What are you?> he whispered through a mind link, a forbidden practise. She glared at him, slowly, he knew what he had to do, he had to help her escape, the creature and the child were not here. With a small shake of his head he knocked his hood back, his sandy hair falling over his eyes. <When I tell you to, run.> He whispered to her again. <What???> she sounded surprised. <You are in danger here, I want to help you. You are in no position to argue!> his Enchanters Upbringing came through and she only frowned. He closed his eyes, focusing deep within his mind, he had it ready. <RUN!> He shouted. And a crack of fake lightening stormed down on her. She vanished to everyone except him, he could see her running running then a figure swooped dowwn and lifted her away... "What was that?!" A mutter passed around the guards, turning to a cry of utter outrage. "It was this!" A hand clamped down on his shoulder, hard, forcing him down to his knees, "My own apprentice, a traitor to our cause!" A grim, cruel face peered into his own, "I'm ashamed of you Dark. Very disappointed." "I'm not," he choked out in an angry voice, "I HATE YOU!!!" He screamed. Flashes of black light began to rain from the skies, one hit his Master, he tried to run but despite the pain contorting his face, his Master did not let go. Fire engulfed the street, burning even himself, skeletal beings rose up though the earth, their grabbing hands reaching up at their ankles. Nightmarish visions took over all minds in the vacinity and fianlly Dark was free. He ran, ran, tears were on his face, but he did not know why... The song layed a trembling base in the back of his mind and he ran, staggered and fell... Unconscious, his black robes ripped and torn, showing the person he was beneath. Dark Malachite. |
| They were gone. All of them. The people who had managed to jar Tyr's mind had left the inn and hopefully their memory of him. He rubbed his hands. They had stopped thobbing. The people were gone but unfortunetly the owner of the inn was dead and he had no place to stay. He sighed and climbed the stairs. He packed up the few things he carried with him and slowly walked out the back door. The stars were out, dancing and circling in the sky. He marked them and counted out the circles in the Dancers bracelets and on the Knights belt. They were the same here as at home and in that he found some comfort. He turned a corner and found a bundle of rags shivering at his feet. His scalp prickled. "Enchanter " he hissed. He drew his sword. Steel, cold as ice sparked in the blackness of the night and he leveled it on the bundle at his feet. But something made him stop. What would this do? It would not regain the land. It would make him no worse than an enchanter, killing something so helpless. But he was an Enchanter. The world would be better off with one less. The Enchanter stirred and groaned softley. Tyr leveled the sword at a spot between his eyes. "I should carve the sign of Daneland...right here," he touched the boys forhead with the steel from the sword and held it. Then he shook his head and sheathed the blade. "But your not worthy enought to wear its honor," he spat. He then turned on his heel and thought he smelled brine on the wind. |
Draco's wings beat harder than usual against the air, he had lost Tyr in the Chaos and had only just managed to save the newly named Serina and now he was afraid that they may be followed... THree rogues would not go unnoticed. A scream peirced the night, cries, angry and afraid took a hold of the group of Enchanters they had left behind. "Go back!" Serina cried, suddenly looking at him, "Go back! That was him!" "What!?" He was stunned, he did not know what she was talking about but he was not about to go back there not now not to face the iminent capture, "No!" She tugged at his chin, turning his face to her own, she was not holding ion to him anymore, "Go back." He halted in midair, she was not allowing hmi to see, not letting him fly, just by saying those few words, "But we'll be caught! I haven't lived out here this long just to be arrested and killed." He held her in one arm, running the other through his hair, "We can't go back... The Enchanters..." "Do you know how I escaped them? Before you picked me up?" He shook his head, they were in full view of the ground and he felt open, nervous. "An Apprentice, an Enchanter's Apprentice, helped me by pretty much blowing up the place, now I know he's in trouble. PLease help me help him..." |
| Serina's anger pulsed through her fingers and suddenly she was flying of her own accord, her flying was magical however which meant that every enchanter around knew where she was. Looking back at Draco she yelled "get yourself out of here, I've got to go back and get him." Then she was gone, diving straight down to where she saw a crumpled heap lying on the floor, muttering an old rune, she covered herself in an invisibility spell, skimming down and carrying the unconscious apprentice up in her arms. Already she could feel the enchanters on her mind, weakening her shield. She came back into view again and was met by a hail of arrows, cursing she tried to dodge them, but the last one caught her in the side, she fell heavily, but Draco was there to help her, together they carried the apprentice and managed to get out of the city, down to the docks. Serina's mind was blurred, the pain in her side seemed to be growing weaker, her vision dimmed and she fell into a coma. |
| Tori was confused, bloody confused in fact. well, how many orphans were there in zhurong who in one day: found they had a mother also found they had magickal powers and that she wasn't a enchanterr, but that they wanted to kidnap her. were fleeing from enchanters, when another enchanter broke all the rules and saved them. most people would be on the verge of a breakdown, but not tori. As she saw the beat of black wings on the horizon, she could tell something was wrong, as the beats were slow and tired, and the fact that there were two unconcious figures underneath didn't help. she probed out with her mind and glimpsed the enchanters, then felt another being, infused with a magick completely different from the sorcerers, but like her's and serina's. ********************* Tyr sped down the alleyway, away from the enchanters he had seen circling a girl. he would have helped her, but for the fifty or so enchanters that surrounded her. then he saw it, a figure swooping down to pick her up, and carry her away. he slunk into the shadows, rage boiling up inside him, as he fingered the sheath of his sword angrily. that was when he felt it. That familiar tingle, it transported him back to the times when he had been a prince, not pauper, and his mother probed for him to make sure he was being 'good'. it was not the harsh probing of an enchanter, but a soft tingle, feminine and gentle. he did not push it away and let it linger, something strange for him. as the probing stopped, he realised that maybe this person could help him, and he triled the old magickal residue back to its source, ready to find them. |
The world was blurred and painful, his breathing coming in short gasped that could not take in enough air at once. Dark shuddered in the dark, he had heard the strangers cold words, understood them, wanted to prove them wrong. He was not an Enchanter... He would never be an Enchanter... Never waned to be one. He closed his eyes, the cold stone he was lying on was wet and muddy and yet he liked it. No one of the despised ranks he had so long been a prisoner to ever found themselves lying in the streets, never became dirtied with mud and grime, never let the waters of the streets touch their shoes. He was no longer apart of that cult. He was free. Thud. Thud. Thud. Running footsteps were coming his way, many of them. Voices, blurred through his mind, but he knew to whom they belonged. He was not free. Rough hands pulled him up by on arm, tipped his head to face them but he kept his eyes resulutly closed. The cold of metal stroked his cheek. Would they just kill him there, in the dark, like a murderer? He would not put it passed them. The metal pressed into the soft skin just below his eyes. He gasped out in pain, sensing the crimson blood trickling down his face. He needed to fight, wanted to... But he had no energy for anything. He would die here. A yell came from someone amongst him. He opened his eyes. A girl, the girl, was dropping from the skies, a boy with great black wings dropping with her. She drew out a small dagger and as she began to fight he was lifted away, on the gaurds was dragging him towards where a pile of ropes lay. "No!" He gave a cry, he would not be tied down, not when he could see hope on the horizon. He made a small crack of blue flame light and spread over the man's body. It was not his own magik but it worked. "Come here!" The winged boy was calling to the girl but she fought on. He struggled to his feet, he thought hard, what did he want, he wanted the enemy to fall away, he wanted the girl and the boy to see nothing. He formed the undead ghouls from before, his tired, drained mind barely summoning up the energy for it and he let them loose. Enchanters screamed, backed away fron nothing, surprise was written all over the other two's faces. The winged one cried out in joy and sliced through one of the enemy throats. Blood splattered through the muddy watters. There was a massacre before his eyes, both girl and boy finishing off the men. His previous weakness flooded over him like a wave, gaining fetch as it rolled through a sea. With a small moan he dropped to his knees. The girl ran over to him. His eyes widened in fear, as a figure rose up from behind her. "Serina!" Winged cried and a hnad knocked the girl to the ground beside him. The brute that he had burnt earlie was grinning, his face a mass of red and brown skin, bloodied and twisted. "No..." He pushed out his hand and green waves of light streamed out from it. It was all the power he had left of what happened next - He knew nothing. |
| He felt the magic drumming in his soul. It was similar to the magic of his country, similar to the magic that lurked beneath rock and stone and under wave. Similar to the magic that was intertwined with Daneland and yet had not come to the surface in centuries. He turned and followed it, around corners back towards where he had left a pile of rags. He slowed. Shouts rang out in the night, eerie lights flickered among the shadows. Then he saw the winged boy and knew he must proceed with caution. A few Enchanters ran by him, twisted and bloodied. Tyr felt the worn leather hilt of his sword in his palm and drew it with skill. His training and the heritage of his people came to him and he cut down the Enchanters as they came. The more he killed now the fewer he'd have to battle later. The pile of rags Tyr had threatened earlier had collapsed after using his magic. The rags had killed several and now the others were battling the remaining Enchanters. He stood and watched the attacks. The Enchanters were tired the others attacked from...what was it? Rage, hatred maybe. Tyr detached himself from the shadows, ready to join the fray, but by then there was no fray remaining. He sighed and cleaned his blade on a piece of fabric before returning it, respectfully, to its sheath. They had killed a few but soon more Enchanters would be swarming over them. He felt the magic stronger now than before and he looked to the people in front of him. He sighed. "Come," he said stepping forward, "it appears as if we need a place to...a place of haven." They looked at him, the man who appeared from the shadows. "I know a place. It belongs to the fisherman guild. They know me. They'll let me in." He turned on his heel and began to walk toward the sea and the docks. "We don't have much time," he said over his shoulder. |
Draco looked blankly at then man, it was the very same one that had destroyed his chance at killing the Enchanter earlier and the one that had run away when the Guards had surrounded them. He glanced at the unconscious boy then at Serina, struggling to stand, felt the tiredness in all his limbs and sighed. The Rogue Apprentice and Serina needed help, he had used up so much energy he would struggle to survive the night and Serina... She had a deep cut on the back of her head, blood matting her long hair. He gave in, he would follow Tyr, even if he did not want to. "We don't have much time." The man called back over his shoulder and he reluctnatly moved forward, helping the Halfbreed before lifting the boy into his arms. "What about the girl?" Serina mumbled as she leaned heavily on him. "She's safe, I'll go get her once you two are alright in this haven..." He replied, tiredness leaching into his voice. For the first time she looked at him with out anger or distrust nor even that old superior smirk but smiled, "Thanks, Draco." For a moment he said nothing, then he gave a worn grin and nodded, "It was nothing... We're all in this now..." She leant on him slightly more and shivered, he knew she must be growing colder and colder and not just because of the chill wind now blowing silently about then but the loss of blood was draining her of energy. -I hope we get to where ever we're going soon...- He thought, Tyr was not struggling, he was along way ahead of the three, -I have to get Tori too...- *** It was a quiet guild, the two wounded were put into warm, dry beds and Tyr had dozed off in a chair. Draco slipped back inside the building quietly, Tori was clinging to his side. He staggered, fell and collapsed on the floor by the fire, wings furled around him like a protective blanket of black. |
| Tori watched him fall to the floor by the fire place. The fishermen stood around, wary, while everyone else was asleep. she shuffled noislessly over to the sleeping form of her companions, a lock of her brown hair falling infront of her eyes. ************************************************* meanwhile in the hall of mirrors two enchanters paced along the floors. Images of the fellowship flashed infront of their eyes, whilst they murmered quietly to each other: "That Tyr, he could be dangerous, he has banished at least two dozen from our league into the realm of the dead." the first said. "They were but simple minions, a mouse could have killed them." the second replied. "do you not care for their loss??" "no, but i tink we should reeducate the girl, tori. it is time she knew who her father was. and the prophecy won't work without her." "surely it won't work without any of them??" "that is true, but as she is young, she will most likely be the easiest to capture and manipulate." They bowed and the second apparated away, leaving the first to ponder over his elder's words. |
He lay awake, having awoken to know nothing of where he was, what status he now held... Was he in some kind of prison or was he free? Beside him, still sleeping was the girl he had saved adn who had saved him, on the floor, worn out and weak was the winged Wyvern, black feathers conceling the boy within. Across from him in a chair was a stranger who's face seemed familiar to him, warning bells form his days as a Junior Apprentice went off, who ever it was no friend of the Enchanters and then finally staring into the fire was a young girl. She was probably only just younger than him but she seemed alot smaller, more vunerable as she sat there, lost in thought, reflections playing on her face... "I know you're awake." she whispered quietly, he lifted himself up slightly but fell back again when he felt the pain in his limbs, "Don't try to get up, you used up Everything you had earlier..." "What happened?" he was interested he coud remember very little of the night before... it seemed like a bad, very real, dream, splashes of memory... "I don't know really... I've just been listening in on everyone's dreams so I know a little of the story." "What do you mean?" "I don't know... I can just see the things that happened when I focus hard enough on the person sleeping, and then I just slip into their heads... I didn't stay in yours though cos you woke up and bunked me out.... Probably a good thing cos it takes ages to find the door otherwise..." "I don't get it... You have magic?" "I think it's from before the Enchanters... Cos Tyr has it too and so does the other two.... well sort of.... their magic is sorta diffrent from mine and his cos well, she has ALL the powers of her father, an enchanter and then Draco has something even wierder that I can't figure out... I don't think he even knows it yet." He listened to her voice, she sounded so young as she talked. She did not turn away from the fire though, "But I suppose I ought to tell you," she whispered, "You are safe here, with us, you'll have to get round Tyr and Draco.... I think they have like, trust issues or something..." "Thanks for the tip." He grinned. "No problem, you ought to sleep some more..." "Don't read my mind this time?" "Sure. I can try." |
| Tyr dozed, plagued by dreams. In them he defended his keep from men who wore his fathers face as Aidon tugged on his sleeve wanting to desprately to show show him a map of Daneland. His brothers face melted into an enchanter and the walls of the Daneland throne room transformed into the dungeon of the Enchanters. His hands began to burn as the memory of hot steel filled his mind. Then a low song cut through his nightmares like a knife and he found himself suddenly awake, staring and those on the floor of the fisherman's guild. A small cup full of steaming broth was pushed in to Tyr's hand. "Lad," said the gruff voice of a man who spent his life on the ocean, "you need to get something in your stomach. 'Tis foolish to go out on an empty sea without your gear. Would you care to join us in a game?" Tyr thanked him quietly, careful not to wake the others, stood and joined a circle of men at a low table away from the fire. The shadows wafted across their faces and they chortled and joked quietly and off color to one another. Tyr sat and smelled the brine. "So, what's with them?" a man with dropping grey moustaches asked an hour later, as they all became relaxed with cheap ale and good play. Tyr gave a half smile and and tossed two brightly colored stones into a circle in the middle of the table. "They're escaping from Enchanters, as I told you." "Laddy," as older man said around a pipe of northern tobacco, "we're not that daft. And surely you can't be that daft neither." "Quintz." The other men grumbled and tossed their cards to the table. As Tyr gathered the cards, shuffled them and dealt he looked at his fellow players suspiciously. "What are you talking about." "We're fisherman. We're a damned supersticious lot. The sea does that to people. We already know you're odd. You come to us with experience and patience beyond your years. And old magic sticks to you Laddy, sticks to you like a cloak. Legend, myth, omens, whatever you want to call it would be most likely come to you..." "My magic is a product of my land," Tyr responded softly, choosing two cards at random from his hands and placing a small blue stone on them. "My land is full of magic that hasn't shown itself in centuries. We looked for it. I remember my father pouring over books until he worried my mother sick. But we couldn't find the key to unlock that old magic that you say sticks to me. The Enchanters couldn't find it either don't forget. They sensed it on you too, you spent long enough in that dungeon to prove that. That magic is part of you whether you believe it or not, so stop thinking these men fools. "Hey, 'tis ye turn," a man with a reddish beard said, elbowing Tyr in the ribs hard enough to startle him out of his thoughts. Tyr blinked, tossed a stone and grunted in statisfaction when he knocked another out of the circle. "And it is interesting," the old man continued to say as he laid a card down, "that others of your party stink of your magic. Maybe not quite the same and not quite as strong as you but it's there. You're all together for a reason. So, what are you going to do." Tyr blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?" "We saw ye when ye walked in," said red beard. "All hurryin and glowerin. You weren't too sure either. Looked like ye been put off ye breakfast. Ye look like a man who can take command easily but like to know control. Ye look like ye have ye's own goal but maybe you un not seein the big picture." Tyr found himself looking at the rag tag group he had hidden in the safety of the fishers guild. Events of the past flashed through his mind. The memory of the song, the song from his childhood caused him to blink and remember. These old grissled men were right. Here, sitting in the dim light of the fire they had seen what Tyr could not, or would not, see. He had to be a part of these people and help them. They were all in this (whatever this was) together. He looked at them and wondered idly if they were warm enough. |
| It was gloomy in the room when he awoke. His feathers slowly sank back into his skin as he moved himself into an upright position. Still in the bed lay the unconscious girl. She looked so vunerabel, just lying there, without her hard defences. The other, much younger girl was sitting by the fire, seemingly dozing, eyes shut against the flames. Not far away he could hear voice and laughter. Tyr was standing amongst the fishermen, gambling? Draco supposed he must be. Stiffly he climbed to his feet and began to move to the window. He wanted to fly again but this town was no longer safe, not for any of them, least of all the two younger companions. A shiver traced down his spine and he felt some kind of magic in the air. It tingled about his ears, twitched as it came into contact with his skin. He froze, something was making his blood turn icy inside his veins. As if in pain he turned, to feel the power on his face. Before his eyes a shimmering mass appeared, it flitted over transparent trees, carried him across a lake to a curtain of water than crahed and span. <I want you to find us.> A hollow voice murmered, <We are the last Outpost. We need you.> The curtain parted and the magic lead his eyes down a tunnel lit only by red lantern at irregualr intervals. The tunnel suddenly span upwards and the sky lay as a pin prick at the summit of a mountain. White marble filled the inside, anciant caverns held by the decorative pillars and a thousand doorways opened as the last outpost became real. An old elf queen, sat in the back of the hall and the magic took him right up. <You must come to me. You have to know the Words.> <Who are you?> his voice trembled as he awaited the words of the elf lady. Her form shook and she lit up with a strange glow and she no longer looked like an elf, nor anything. <I am the Dreamer and my Dream must be given to you and those around you. Go back and then come to me because the light is dying.> Draco felt the world hurtle back into perspective and he stumbled into reality. He blinked and slumped down on to the floor. This was going to be an interesting day... |
| As she slept the young halfbread's mind started to peice itself back together, the most important parts first. Tori. She could not be her mother, they were of a different race for a start, she was only four years younger than her and (most importantly) she had never had children. Nevertheless, she could not wave away the fact that Tori had recognised her, and, on seeing Tori's face she had remembered something too. The fires were burning low, everybody seemed drunk after the party and the adults had left the children to play on their own. Tori, being only four had been quite content to sit chewing the tablecloth. The homeless halfbread had been loitering around for ages, hoping to steal a few crumbs of food from the dinner table, she was only eight. When Tori had seen her, she had slid from her father's lap and crawled over to the young theif, "wotcha doing?" she had asked, almost scaring her out of her wits, "nuthing, honest," she had answered, looking terrified of the baby, "really miss, I ain't doing nuthing, I'll go away, please don' tell." Tori had been surprised at the terror in her voice, "you want some food?" she had asked in what she thought was a kind voice, the sort her mother used. "You what?" answered the shocked theif, "You don't listen, I said do ya want some food?" "Is you sure, I donna know if I'll get beatin'" "Com'mon, here, have this." After having been asured that she would not be told to go away, the eight year old had approached the food and began to grab at it ravounesly. Tori had sat and watched her with a quite fascination, "wots your name?" "I donna have one," replied nameless sadly, "never had one since I 'as five," "Oh, you poor thing, why don't I give you a name?" Tori had asked, she seemed to like the idea, "I know I'll give you mother's, she won't mind lending it to you!" "Really, shucks, I never 'ad a name 'efore, what's yo ma called?" "Serina!" stated Tori proudly, "Serina," said Serina, trying it out on her tongue. They had played together quite happily until the sun had just peeped it's head over the horizon. That was when Serina saw it, a black mass coming towards them, fast. She felt an awesome power, magical, pulsating around her and the rest of the camp. "Wossat?" she asked pointing at the horizon. "Wot?" asked Tori looking to see, "I dunno," "Do'ya think we should tell someone?" asked Serina, but the adults had seen it already. "Tori? Tori!" came her mother's frightened shouts, "come here darling." Tori got up and ran over to her mother. They almost instantly dissapeared into the confusion of the campsite. Serina was afraid now, the confusen had scared her and the blob was almost upon them now, she could see that they were horseman. Out of pure instinct Serina dived under therugs piled on her right as the horseman came thundering by, "Sir?" came a voice, "Find the parents....good price....slave market...the girl....orphanage...old enough....serve us....kill them....phrophecy....hurry!" came another voice, Serina heard a frozen cry and huddled deeper into her blankets trying to block it all out, a miserable child, left to die. Serina turned over in her bed, she had tried so hard to forget about that night, she even forgot about the name she had been given. What was she supposed to do now? Where were Tori's parents? Did Tori truely believe that she was her mother? It was not true, but she was connected to Tori, she had been there when the attack came, hadn't she? Serina's mind retreated into deeper sleep unwilling to try and comprehend the possibilities flying around her confused brain. |
Draco and Tori were both awake when his eyes opened next. He cuold see Tyr near by, he could not remember if the strange man had ever been asleep in the first place. Slowly Dark crept out from under the blacnkets, pushing them to one side and uncurling his boney frame. Tori looked up with a smile. "I didn't pry this time." "Thanks..." he grinned in return, it was strange, he felt comfortable with these people, with her inparticular... He peered around, "What time is it?" "Ummmmm...." Draco interupted, his voice was cold, "It's ten minutes to the eleventh hour." "Oh... thanks...." He glance at Tori, she shrugged and he remembered her words from before, the Wyvern had 'issues' it would take time to earn the man's trust. The windows were closed and he could not help but wonder where they were. Was it possible the people he had helped were stupid enough to stay in the same city as the enchanters he had escaped from... they had fought and run away from together? "Where are we?" "On the River Kaiba... In a Fisherman's Guild. Bartak, he's the Etheop Man next to Tyr, he's the one that let us in and gave us this area to recuperate in. he was really nice too cos he gave me some really hot soup and i hadn't eaten in.... a day..." Tori was babbling... her eyes shone with a happiness he did not understand... He turned away from her for a second thinking, "That means we're still in the city. We're still near to the.. them..." He made his voice softer and emotionless. They could not possibly understand why he wanted to leave this place... They could never understand why... |
| "They're waking now, lad," redbeard said with a nod of his head. Tyr looked up. The girl Tori and the young man he had threatened earlier were talking and the Draco boy was slumped near the window. This was odd. Tyr left the game and walked over to the boy, confusion and worry fighting a subtle battle on his face. "What's wrong," he asked, probably a bit too gruffly. Draco looked up at him and blinked as if coming back to reality. "We must go." Tyr blinked. "Well we can't expect the fisherman to host us forever..." "No," he interrupted, "we must go to her." "To whom?" The girl Tori had now joined them along with Dark, bringing up the rear and looking about suspiciously. Draco shook his head slowly as if trying to dislodge invisible cobwebs. "Her. She who lies across the water and encased in marble...She who Dreams." Tyr felt his heart skip a beat. "We must go," Draco continued weakly, "we..." he trailed off. Tyr's mouth felt dry. Years ago, when his father was searching for their long lost magic in forgotten tomes and histories, he had come across one such Dreamer. It was a legend that had passed into the realm of a fairy tale and it had amused his father so much that he told it to Tyr and Aidon. It had stuck with Tyr, hanging on by invisible threads in the back of his memory, not emerging until now. And now he knew what it could mean Tyr's natural instincts were to go along, but he remembered the fishermen's words. He felt something like hope flicker in the dark places in his heart. Maybe he would get Daneland back afterall. But best not to hope too much too soon. Not too soon.... Tyr remained silent and stood looking at the window, his thoughts returning to the present situation. "...have to leave anyway," Dark was growly, "the Enchanters...you don't know what they can do." |
The enchanter's apprentice stood uncertainly as Tyr's gaze came to rest on him, "Don't you dare say that." He growled, steping closer to the boy, "I know exactly what they can do." Tyr's face was dark with a cold fury and his eyes hard with anger. Draco watched weakly from where he sat. The voice of the Dreamer was calling through his mind, like an echo. "I know more than you might think. You haven't a clue what they do to us do you?" "You are the one who hasn't a clue! You should be spat on! All of you! Enchanters apprentices are no better than their masters!" How on earth had they sparked off already? Draco closed his eyes as the arguement continued. He had realised that for one reason or another Tyr had a past but some how he knew that the smaller boy did too... Something probed in his mind. With an angry flick he shut it out and he heard a moan from behind him. "Will you all just shut up...." Serina was stirring. Tired eyes flickering open as the room fell silent, "Thank you...." she mumbled as she rolled over. Draco could not help a smile, her grumpy face was all he needed to know that she was fine again. He closed his own eyes, listening to the quiet before Dark whispered quietly, "I don't want to offend you miss but.... uh.... we need to get out of here...." "Wha'?" Serina turned back to them and propped herself up on her elbows. Dark was staring out the window again. his face had gone pale and Draco noticd that his knuckles were white, "They've found us..." *(sorry it's so short.... writer's block.... grrrrr)* |
| Tori paled instantly, and reached to her locket instinctively. almost everyone else except tyr was wounded, or had no idea what was going on. Dust settled dreamily on the floor as if oblivious to the chaos around it, and her mind was still not coming up with anything. hastily jumping to her feet she shrieked and muttered something quickly. If each of them combined their powers they could...whats it called...teleport themselves. It ight leave majick trails from here to new ingleterra but noone could trace them from there, she sent the idea into everyones heads, and they all looked up in suprise, thinking it was there own idea. A look of recognition spread among them and they eyed her curiously, but began to weave the neccesary wards around themselves, praying the safety wards at the door would hold up for just a moment longer |
| (Sorry it took me so long guyzos, I completely forgot about this *grimaces*) "What are you talking about?" Tyr roared at Tori as magic sparked through the air. "What damned powers?" Apparantly everyone else knew what they were doing, whether they had heard it from Tori or not. The world began to swim sickeningly around him, bluring into muted shades and colors. The fisherman... the thought flickered across Tyr's mind. They were almost like a covey of adopted uncles. He wasn't going anywhere until they were safe. The world disintangled itself for an instant and Tyr saw boats disappearing in the blackness of the night. Only then he gave himself up to the strange magic surrounding him. Blinking, he opened his eyes in the bright morning sunlight and immediately felt the contents of his stomach leap. He scrambled over to a clump of sea grass and vomited. Getting shakily to his feet, he drew the back of his scarred hands across his mouth and made his way back to the others who were all in various states of wakefulness. They stood on a windswept beach with sand the color of bone. A crumbling statue of an old kind was slowly being taken back by the sea nearby and tiny gulls chased each other through the air. "Where are we?" someone asked. "Closer than we were before," Draco murmured enigmatically. |
| It seemed kind of strange how they had all understood. How it had been Tori's idea, but at the smae time he knwe that it would not have worked if in some way they had all been connected by that same thought. That was how old magic could work in full groups. Draco sat down with a flop on the beach. He had a feeling that whatever they were supposed to be doing was directly related to the rule of the Enchanters. It was a feeling with absolutely no reason behind it. "Does anyone else catch the scent of fate?" He heard Serina murmer behind him. Sliding his wings from his skin, he let them sense the tune of the wind, understanding then what she was saying. "Yeah, I do..." Burying his hands in the crackled sand, he knew mroe than ever that this was to do with them. It was something that only they could do. A frown curled on his face. Somethign w as lulling in the wind... "Does anyone else here that?" his vioce was so soft, trying to focus on the voice that he could hear. Dark and Serina heard him though and Tyr was looking towards the open sea. Where the vioce was coming from. "I can hear someone singing. It... sounds familiar..." Dark's young voice had a twinge of confusion. "It's the Dreamer" |
| Serina could hear it too, it had been that voice that had brought her up out of sleep when she had been wounded, it had been that voice who had helped her weave the necassery magic when they had needed to escape and it was that voice that was now almost yelling at her, although it didn't look like the others could here it as clearly as she. There was only one thing that was clear to Serina in that moment, they were not safe yet. The voice was being brought to them by the wind so it made sense for them to follow the wind back to it's source, the Dreamer, as Draco had called it, was talking to her, no shouting at her, "Come to me, my child, you have the bringers of death on your trail, even now they follow the scent you left behind, like evil hounds sniffing the air." "They're coming," Serina said out loud, "The enchanters are on our trail, they'll be hear soon," "Follow my voice, come to me my child, for only then can I tell you of your future...and of your past." The voice was becoming fainter, as was the wind. The others had all looked up as she spoke, varying degrees of fatigue on their faces. Draco was looking at her strangely, "How long?" he asked. "Sunset will bring them, but they may not follow you here." The dreamers voice echoed inside Serina's head and then was gone, and with it the last tendrils of wind. "The enchanters will be here by sunset," Serina told Draco, "we must go, we must follow the wind and find the dreamer." Draco nodded, apparently unpreturbed by the fact that the air was now as still as death. "I can see where the wind has been, I can follow the dreamer's trail," he reassured Serina, "that is my role in reaching the dreamer, none can see the signs she leaves behind but me." "And none can hear the dreamer clearly but me," Serina finished, looking around at the others and knowing that they all had thier own parts to play in the journey to the wind's voice. "We must go," she said, knowing that very few of them would understand what had gone on, Tori however seemed to understand perfectly. She got to her feet, brushing the grains of sand from her clothes, "I know my part," she said, "none can hide us from the enchanters but me," The group slowly got to their feet, the more practical ones wondering where their next meal was coming from. All of them knew they had to move fast, the sunset was drawing nearer. Careful not to leave any tracks, they left the beach behind them, and following the trail only Draco could see, they set off to find the Dreamer. |
| Tyr had done something brave, and tori knew it. sacrificing himself to a whole new world to save his friends. he certainly hadn't done it to save himself. she sighed, a broken dream coming back to her. no, seina wasn't her mother, she, she, ate, alot. confused ideas danced about her mind like the flickerng flames of the fire. the thief girl- she had no name, she was lent it, lent the name of tori's mother. the hordes had come quickly, sweeping across the green lands and razing the beauty into a barren desert. what had it been called? daneland. the ideas struggled to take dominance in tori's mind, but in the heavy mist a girl danced, brushing against them, leaving a myriad of trails in the miasma of her conciousness. she glanced up as she walked doggedly, her knees in pain from growing and her eyes weak with the heavy burden that littered her mind. "you know you reak of old magick." dark said suddenly. "i do?" she stuck her nose out pointedly, as if trying to smell something. He laughed amiably at how weird she looked. " its almost as if you have no flesh and blood. but that's a stupid idea, that would make you a myrene." he laughed again, uncertainty flashing across his voice like a flare. draco turned about suddenly. normally dark and brooding, everyone stirred in suprise as he began to speak, the long forgotten words awaking themselves as he began to speak. "I knew a myrenian once, she sheltered me for a while. she had a daughter, young. her skin had no blemish, i used to wonder about that, and her eyes were a deep hazel, that's how i knew she was. i was about 9, young. the house was in daneland, before the hordes came. she always had food. always enough food. her name- her name was," he glanced up in shock as he remembered it, "serina." serina and tori exchanged glances, and watched as tyr stepped back in shock. "who are you? why didn't she tell the king? never speak about daneland again." "she was waiting. for his son to find her." Tori added forlornly, the colour drained from her face, like the sea draining from the sand beneath their feet. |
| Pain drove deep into the heart of the prince of Daneland like a burning sword. He turned into the wind, not catching Tori's last words, and walked pointedly ahead, letting the breath of the air dry the tear that was making its way down his roughly worn face. If a myrene existed when the Enchanters came through then she could have stopped them. She could have wakened the sleeping magic laying deeping beneath Daneland. Da could be alive. And Aidon...Aidon could be well enough to...to live. He clenched his hands into fists, sorrow being replaced by a smoldering anger and anger soon faded to memory... Wooden door, splintered but solid. Stone steps, worn with age but not with use. Knock...knock... "Ma, please eat something." 'Shiff shiff' replied the loom from the otherside of the door. A tug on Tyr's tunic made him turn. Aidon's handsome face looked to the door and beyond. "Where's mummy?" "Go back to bed Aidon." "But I want to see." "Back to bed," he told his older brother. Aidon turned with the grace of a lion a disappeared up the ruined steps. "Ma, you can't weave forever. Da's gone. We need you...I...I need you." "shiff clack' replied the loom. Tyr tasted anger again, remembering it hadn't taken her long to weave herself to death. Up ahead Draco had came to a sudden halt. "We need to wait," he murmured quietly and his words were almost stolen by the wind. "Wait?" Dark hissed. "We can't afford to wait. Not with enchanters on our tails..." And then she came. Formed out of wind and air and everything fresh and new. The wind formed her hair, molded her face and was slung around her like a cloak. She danced around them and laughed and her laugh was the tinkle of tiny bells. In her hand she carried a lantern the color of holly berries which danced to the rhythmn of the wind. "Follow me follow me follow me!" she laughed carelessly. "You are called, you are chosen, you must come! How luck you are, how destined you are, how doomed you are! Come come She is waiting, She has been watching, She is ready for you!" The woman, born of wind and air, disappeared leaving only the holly berry lantern floating and bobbing before them. |
Draco lifted his wings in a half shrug before turning with a sigh... The signs left by this new entity were raw and he could sense some kind of darkness in its patterns. It was not happy, it was just a messenger. Prehaps... The others were waiting, they could see the lantern but Serina had stopped just behind him, she seemed just as perterbed. "Something tells me we should be careful following that light..." she murmered close to his ear, "I don't want the others to worry but..." He nodded, she could hear things none of them could, just like he could see the threads of violet and grey in the wind. The lantern was pausing for them to catch up. "But we have to trust it a little, we have no other choice right now..." Slowly they began to move, Draco flew just ahead, his wings carrying him that much faster. It was perfect, the sense of flying free again. With only one purpose... "DRACO!" A shout rose from a distance behind him... "STOP!" He stopped, spun around and realised instantly the problem, they had reached the edge of the sea. Under this sea, however, there were things moving in the murky depths. "We can't fly..." Tyr said gruffly, "And I don't think it's gonna be safe to swim here." "Serina, you can can't you? Using that magic you have?" She nodded, "Not very far though... I mean..." Draco frowned, there had to be a way. "I suppose I could carry Dark and Tori... But what about Tyr and if you ran out of energy or whatever...?" He looked across the black expance of ocean. How far would it be? What other problems might they face along the way? |
| "Wait a sec, I can't fly...well I can but I shouldn't because then I'll be trackable, the enchanters can find us," said Serina looking glum. She heard Draco swear high above her then heard something else... "What?" she shouted "I'm not going to repeat it," replied Draco "No not that, the other thing." "I didn't say anything Serina..." "Up the shore, there is a boat, find that then follow the lantern, there is not much time..." Suddenly Serina understood, she was being spoken to again and now she knew just what to do, then she saw the white lantern, and it wasn't the one they had been following. |
| "There is a second lantern!" The triumphant, slightly wondering cry came from Serina and Tyr turned his face into the wind. At first he saw nothing but then he caught a soft gleam, a pale as freshly fallen snow. Could that be it? "Come on!" there was a determined edge in the young womans voice and she began moving along the edge of the beach, carefully dancing around the lapping waves. Tyr shrugged and followed, keeping one hand on his sword. Why trust one lantern over another, he didn't know. Why trust anyone at all? It all came down to that. Choose a holly berry lantern, choose a white lantern...why choose at all. Because you have nothing else to do, he chided himself. You are a bit caught with no other options. They followed down the winding darkened beach, Tyr straining his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of something he knew. Then he saw the boat bouncing in the dark water. Finally a boat...something I know... |
Draco didn't understand exactly what was going on any more. They were trusting laterns that floated with no magical trace. There were no signs of life around them except beneath the surging waters. He would sense things there... Feel the remnants of life and it chilled his bones. What lay below the surface was neither dead or alive and it made his stomach roll. He watched as the others found their balance in the small boat, noticed how Tyr took control as the Enchanter boy lifted tori back to her feet as she stumbled. "Thank you..." She whispered to him, and he noticed the faint rouge on Dark's cheeks. He smiled slightly, he guessed Dark liked Tori more than expected. Then again... his eyes roamed to the wary form of Serina, she was still distrustful of him, he knew that... But still.... He shook his head. He was a freak of the earth with his wings that gave him his freedom. "Draco, you flying?" Came Tyr's gruff voice. "Yup. I can scope the area better up here." he flapped his wings alittle harder to gain more motion and waited for the lantern to lead the way. There was so much to this that he did not understand.... But there had to be a reason for them all to come together and he sure as he could fly wanted to know what that reason was. All the people here were drawn to what was calling them... Or atleast he imagined they were... Ever since the beginning of this mess he had felt the strange tug in his chest growing stronger, the fine drapes of a song weaving its ne tighter around him.... He looked down and realised he had fallen behind slightly and beat harder to catch up. Tyr had a grim look on his face as they miandered, with no idea as to their destination, into the strangling white mist. |
| The boat was small, cramped with all of them packed inside it. She longed to leap into the air and join Draco but her fear of being detected stopped her. Dark was sitting next to her in the boat with Tori on his other side. She could see the young girl's head resting against the rogue apprentice's shoulder and felt a wave of affection for the young man wash over her. He had saved her life back in the city, if it wasn't for him she would be dead or worse. Leaning over she quietly whispered in his ear, "Thanks for what you did for me" She could see him colour slightly through the darkness, "and you for me," he whispered back. She nodded at the dark form of Tori, "you mind you look after her, she's a good kid." "Yeah, I know." Serina leaned back slowly, taking care not to rock the boat too much. Tyr was rowing steadily, following the indistinct light of the lantern; there was little she could do to help for now. She let her mind wander onto Draco and instinctively looked up into the cloudy sky. Could those magnificent wings carry two? Or would that tire him too quickly? Sighing she lowered her gaze - this was ridiculous! Her mind was running away with her again, it just couldn't happen, could it? She tried not to think about it, but Draco's image kept pushing itself to the top of her mind until she wanted to scream with frustration. Then she remembered Draco's ability to read minds and quickly covered hers with a cloak of quiet magic, anxious to keep her thoughts to herself. (Sorry it's so crude, v. busy at the mo) |
| Burning sienna with all the dark magic that had been cast over the old city of ladanden, the horizon seemed painted by the hands of a sorcerer with an angry pallete of reds and ruddish browns.Beneath it the sea purled, an inky blackness whose calmness lay dormant, as if the raging sea had been tamed just for that moment. The boat slipped through the curtain of darkness with streamlined ease, parting the veil of light that had been sprinkled overhead by the glow of the mysterious lantern. As Tori sat in the boat, she could not help but feel that there was omething sinister about the scene. She could sense life devoid of passion, soulless shells of original life forms. Gifted with magic, they had bent it to their ways and corrupted it, till the power consumed them, and now magic was all that was left of them. the thought made her arms shiver. She glanced over to the sillhouette of the fallen prince. His heart beat was drowsy, muffled by the ancient magick that rested beneath his soul. Pain seared through his heart with every stroke and every paddle, an intense, anguish filled, pain. Tori's voice took on a husky, low tone. She spoke quietly, her voice rippling through the air with delicacy and yet reaching the ears of everyone with the clarity of a knife against metal. "she couldn't have awakened daneland's magick Tyr. A magick? - certainly , but not Daneland's. If she had tried, the magick would have consumed Daneland with more vigour than a sorcerer's pitiful power could ever release, and it would be irreversible. She worked night and day trying to find a way, but she couldn't. The work drained her. By the time the sorcerers came she could barely protect our house. Let alone the kingdom.The only thing she could do was to tell me everything she knew by giving me an amulet. She never finished her research." He replied through gritted teeth, pain burning through his features with every word that he spoke. "And what of my brother? My mother? My people?" "Your father may have died by the sword, and that is something that noone can change. No amount of lives can avenge the death of a king that loved his country with all his bones, and his heart, and his soul. But your brother, and your mother- they were taken by magic, and they can be saved. Any myrene can cure your sick brother. But we need you, Tyr. It is you that has to save your country. My mother- she is still alive. she has been enslaved, and her wings were clipped." Draco's ears pricked up at those words. Tyr had gone into a dream-like trance, the beat of his now merged with splash of the paddle, his mind blocking all other thoughts, so absorbed was he on these words. "Wings? myrene have wings?" "they are not external. When the dreamer dreamed the guardians she wanted them to blend in. But yes- after their 16th birthday, they have the ability of flight..." "...but lose their ability to feel the touch of a human hand. to taste the fruits of the earth. To see, withought seeing only the auras and thoughts of world around them. they become consumed by the old magick, lose all humanity. Pure beings of the dreamer's third hand. They become the dreamer's will." Serina finished. Her face had considerably palled as she realised something. blood draining from her face and her stomach wrenching in her body, twisting and dropping and shriveling up. Her voice took on an anxious tone "Tori. you can't be 14. The myrene look younger than they are. When thhe orphanage estimate your age, they don't use magick do they?" "no, they take your bodily appearence. your...p proportions." "And if myrene age slower. that would mean you are older than you seem. which means that you have to be older than the dreamer's song. I was three when i heard it. you must be between fifteen, and sixteen then. if you can't fly yet. This...this transformation. it's going to happen soon. and you will become..." "A guardian, part of the dreamer." dark finished off slowly. "But the sorcerers...they will kill you. We spent the best part of half a year, every apprentice, learning how to kill the guardians. For every sorcerer that walks this earth, there is at least theoretical knowledge, if not the actual power. What i'm saying is- the most powerful sorcerers WILL be after you. Tori." HIs face paled visibly and his green eyes flashed with sadness. Tori gazed into them, smiling weakly as though it would help ease his mind. she had the most powerful magical beings assembled around her, and if that wasn't enough...well then it wasn't meant to be. "and Tyr. Tyr is the key to the prophecy of daneland's revival. when Daneland is revived it will start off a chain reaction. They would kill a thousand people before ..." she sighed, fingering her sword's runes idly with the practise of a well worn hand. "how do you...know all this about the myrene?" "i think...i can't remember...but i stayed with tori in daneland, when i was very young. when the dark came. Serina, the myrene, she helped my magick. she told me the stories of the old kingdom, of peace." Tyr was now out of his trance, and listening to every word of the conversation, silently. "What was....the surname? of the myrene?" "Mylinte." both Draco and Serina stammered at the same time, then, caught of guard, they glanced at each other, turned away, and blushed. "No. There's no way. She was the cook in the palace at aneris. father was always in the kitche...he must have known." |
Dark suddenly felt very alone. She was a myrene, something he had been taught to destroy and knew now that he never could. The young, smiling girl he'd come to adore was to become much much more powerful than anything he had ever imagined... And all this talk about Daneland... It confused to an extent he was unsure if it was beneficial for it's rise or not... This whole party seemed so strange and unpredictable that at t hat moment he wasnt sure if it was real or just some crazed dream. Slowly he looked away from Tori, away from the face he had grown so fond of and felt for the center inside himself that would help him regain balance. Draco was flying so close to the water now and all Dark could feel was the chill of the ensnared spirits below and the steady beat of his companion's wings. He hadn't missed the look that had passed from Draco to Serina when they'd both found the answer to part of Tori's riddle. It scared him as well as surprised him that all their lives were so intricately woven about eachother but he guessed there was nothing he could do a bout it... |
So Tori was destined to become a true figure of the subrealms... or at least he thought that was what they were called. Subrealms... the places inbetween concious thought and subconcious and unconcious... The small but phenomenally intricate parts of everyone's identity. They were the makers of 'dreams come true'... At least that's what he had heard. They were meant to be powerful beings of light and dreams... Tori just seemed young and small with a confusing past. But he couldn't help wonder... was there a connection between power and their grouping. Tyr was blatently gifted with latent magick, it crackled in his aura, even if Draco hated to admit it... Dark, well he was a rogue apprentice and a sorceror... Serina... He smiled slightly, she was just as talented as any enchanter, she was simply one of the strongest, most fascinating people he could imagine... But then there was him... What was he? He had wings. Big deal... Then again was it possible he had other magicks? Other than mind reading and growing wings. Slowly he dropped back into the world around him. He was simply gliding through the air now, not even having to beat his wings too often to stay aloft. The cloying effect of the silver-dark water made him shudder. It felt as f there was something beneath the water that wasn't alive or dead but trapped and unable to escape. Maybe... He flew down to the very surface so he was almost touching the water... "Draco!" He jumped and turned to the boat. Serina was looking horrified, at him. He frowned and then he felt something cold on his right wing. He glanced across, tendrils of smokey nothings were wrapping around the steely black feathers, coiling and snaking about him and making their chilling way towards his body. Crying out in shock he tired to jerk away but they ahd seized hold and weren't moving. "Serina!" He shouted, the boat was moving closer but it wasn't going to come closer enough for him to jump for. He found himself being tugged down towards the water that seemed to be pulsating beneath him. Was he going to drown in this... this... deadness... The tip of his wing was touching the water, being submerged and the force increased... Oh gods he was going down... literally. |
| Tori's arms glistened with the spray of salt water. The silhouette of Draco was spiraling downwards against the umber washes of the magickal sky. Noone could see anything that was visibly impairing him, but she felt the presence of the old magick that she had sensed moments earlier, pulsating as though a neutron star was in their presence, plunging Draco down into the pool of shadows that revertebrated beneath him. He was visibly struggling, but his wings drew together at angles that were acute enough to cause and creature pain, as though an invisible rope were tightening around him. Serina's wild eyes glowed like the night sky with the colours of terror, her cat like pupils widening, as though windows to her soul and it's darkest depths were being flung open in terror. As she stood up the boat rocked to the left and a gust of wind blew the cap off her flame red hair. It was bedraggled, beads from a long forgotten childhood still threaded onto the ends. Her black cloak whipped around her in the wind. Silver tears of salt water licked her face, as though nature was making up for what she could not bring herself to do. The landscape around her screamed in anguish, winds raising their tone as if to obey her, and yet not a note broke away from her mouth. Suddenly a voice pierced through the wind, it's tone almost carried away into the depths of the sea. "Can you swim?" It was the shout of reason breaking through the terror. Tyr, sensing that no-one else had a half decent plan formed,had come through, breaking once more his silence. "Never tried!" came Draco's voice in barely a whisper, only betraying the slightest hint of his terror at being suddenly pulled out of his element. The words were carried towards them by the currents of the air. Once more Tyr's Voice grew in volume to a bellow, as though his vocal chords had finally woken up. "Retract your wings! And then dive as though you would if you had wings. Spells can't affect water!" Draco, implicitly trusting in the person that a day earlier he would have no qualms in beating to within inches of his life, stretched out his hollow limbs into a dive. He felt his wings being torn feather from feather as he began to drop, but as they retracted the smoke began to lose it's grip on him. Only his wing tips remained as his hands pierced the water. It was a new sensation entirely to the urchin, as though he was enveloping his hands in silk. Instinctively he closed his eyes and pursed his mouth as he felt his body being smothered by viscous liquid. It felt like he was flying again as he glided through the water. water. Suddenly, panic struck. He opened his mouth to scream but instead swallowed mouthfuls of water. It was as if his lungs were being crushed by iron fists. As he struggled in the water some scars behind his ears began to glow slowly. Strands of skin began to unfurl and the scars opened up. Bubbles began to escape from them. Draco felt his throat close and finally, the pounding stopped. Suddenly he could breathe again. He flexed his arms and found that he could move, sailing through the water like a fish. They watched the water in terror, the once foamy surface now drifting silently. Instinctively she grabbed Dark's hand and felt a ulse of electricity spark between them. Awkwardly, she pulled away. Tyr's face softened as he looked at selina's face, staring into the blackness. A shape suddenly burst ou from underneath the bow and pulled itself onto the boat. A ball of fire flashed into both selina and dark's hands instantaneously. The flames iluminated the glistening face of dark, who collapsed onto the deck choking. In a few seconds, he sat up sprightly, shocking the silent boat. "Apparently, I have Gills." |
Gills. That couldn't be right. Dark looked at the aura that was surrounding Draco's sodden head. It didn't look natural. The glow wasn't his own. Draco did not have gills after all. Someone had given him them. "Someone gave you gills, Draco." He said with a quiet solemnity that reminded him of his own teachers. Serina didn't look as if she had done it, nor did Tori... Though she did seem slightly tired all of a sudden... maybe she had then and she'd used up too much energy doing so.... He knew it would'nt have been himself because he had always been useless at that sort of magic. Could it be that Tyr...? He look at the haggard older man. It could have been but he wasn't sure. The man's expression was too unreadable. With a strange feeling tingling up his spine he watched as Draco pulled himself out of the water and then back into the air. As if he knew that his wings put him in the right place. As if the air was his home. It was bloody odd, if he did say so. It seemed so random. "Anyone going to admit to it. Only I owe them my life now." Draco said with only a slight chatter in his teeth. Silence except for the wind slid among them and then land peaked through the mist. They were there. |
| The world had gone mad. He was sure of it. Somewhere in this darkness and among the lap of waves they were all lost in a realm of madness. Gills, magic, flight, the words of the girl called Tori, all carrying him along in their rush as if he were lost beneath the waves himself. Nothing made sense anymore and he clutched at straws to find something he knew. Aidon. He knew Aidon. He knew Aidon and he knew Daneland. Or at least he thought he did.Da wouldn’t have done that to me…to us. And he wouldn’t have known anything! He tried…it was all that consumed him! He couldn’t have done that to us…could he? No! This is nonsense, madness! I’m being sucked into their madness! The familiar jarring of a boat striking the shore shook him and mechanically he heaved himself over the side and helped haul it onto the flat expanse of sandy beach, out of the reach of the waves. The land itself was dark and misting and the sand beneath his feet was green. Green sand beaches are rare. Tricks of the current say some sailors. Some say it symbolizes more. But why…why am I here so far from home? How is this helping? He clenched his fists until his nails dug briefly into his palms as the other jumped from the boat. Tori… he eyed the girl as she stood, sea spray catching in her hair. She said…I’m the key? If I’m the key then everything I went through…everything Da was looking for…was there all the time? No, no I refuse to believe that. Can I? No! Then all I went through is nothing. Besides, she’s wrong about Ma. “Where do we go now?” murmured Serena as she eyed the darkened landscape, and sea grasses laid bare in the moonlight. Dark breathed heavily, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his head. “Who knows? Are we supposed to wait for some sort of guide or go ourselves. Or is this all some sort of elaborate trap set forth by the enchanters themselves.” Tyr gave him a sharp look. He had a good point and being wary was a good idea. Reguardless, they were cold and his stomach felt empty. Maybe that’s why they were all mad. “You okay?” he asked Draco quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder. The boy nodded and Tyr took a breath. They were still near the sea, something they knew, and they would all do better out of the cold with something in their bellies. “If we’re supposed to wait for a guide,” he said abruptly, “then they’ll find us wherever we go. For now, lets take shelter in the lee of the dunes to block the wind, and see if we can find something to eat. We’re bound to all feel better and think clearer if we’re well fed.” I’m speaking just as much for myself as for them, he thought looking around at the bunch, wet and soaked with saltwater. I may be mad in everything else…but she was still wrong about Ma. They began trudging up the beach, leaving the boat above the mark of the high tide. Before he knew it, Tori was next to him and he felt a sharpness in his chest. “I don’t know if everything you say is true,” he murmured, “but I know one thing for sure.” Unconsciously his words were hard and sharp and strong. “My mother wove herself to death in that chamber and I buried her corpse myself. The death god took her, not magic so don’t tell me things that are not true.” He bit off the last word and closed his mouth. It was harsher than he had meant and the words still tingled and snapped on his tongue as the memory tingled in his mind. He turned his face away from her, hiding it in darkness. |
The beach was long, pitted with dunes that stretched into a green and white, sandy bowl of dust on the oblivion of the horizon. Before them, it seemed the world had become desert with a thin line of darkness running like a charcoal line before sand met sky. There were no stars, no moon, yet an eery, irridescent glow seemed to have spread itself through the sky and now they were following fine strands of the same strange light. Draco shivered, held his gaze on the trail, feeling the throb in his bare feet more than ever and wishing that the ache in his sand scratched eyes would subside. He was the only one who could see this cord, the others had simple agreed to follow him, though he suspected from the tilt of Serina's head, that she was listening to some tale of the wind. They had been waiting, tucked into one of the dunes, sheltered from the gusts kicking up dust, when he had seen the thread. Thin and pale in the air, a shimmer of magic that was barely there at all. Dark and Tori had been dozing, eyelids too heavy for them to keep up after the day in the sea spray and cool breeze. Tyr and Serina sitting, cleaning up the cooking implements that they had used to stew a few salted fish which had been saved in the older man's pack. He had seen it, called to them, told them they needed to move and quickly just as Tori jolted awake.... Now they half walked, half staggered along the land, weighted down by weariness and feet made leaden by the sand which buried each step with geothermal warmth. Draco sighed again, scratching at the place where the gills had sprouted, feeling only smooth skin where they had been not so long ago. For some reason he suspected that they had been caused by the one drawing them on... But there was no foundation for that belief. "Do you think... we should call it a night?" Dark's voice, small and tired was nearly blown away by the wind, "We don't know for sure where we're going, where we're going too... But... we're safe here aren't we? And..." "I'm tired too." Tori chipped in with a gentle smile towards the road weary boy beside her, "But we're not safe yet. We need to keep going a little." Serina's head dropped and Draco chuckled, "We're all tired and we do know where we're going. It's just a long way." "It's nearly dawn." Tyr added, his corse voice grating out the encouragement. In the distance the sea could still be heard, whipped up along the far shore by the breeze. The crunch of sand under their feet almost drowning it out. But he could hear it when he strained his ears and wondered if the others listened out for the repetitive lullaby too. Their silence stratched out as far as the sand, fatigue making every effort even longer. Having felt like this many times in his short life, it didn't seem so bad... But it was wearing on the younger ones. From time to time his thought traced back to how he lacked the same magicks the others had... Wondered if this would give him some clue as to what he was, where he should go... Then he would shake his head, not used to sentimentalities. "LOOK!" The sky was glowing an electric pink. Each cloud burned in the approaching dawn, catching the myriad of colours as they rose up out of the ocean. Something stirred as they watched the complex mesh of hues spread out from the horizon, it was as I he could feel them, breathe them… reach out an touch them… It was a royal procession, the wind casting aside the majestically coloured cirrus. A gentle purple filtered through the stratus of the early morning, a resplendent background to the vibrant blush of rose. Breath catching in his throat, Draco leant forward, wings desperate to escape his back and bursting out in a flurry of feathers. Blazing a streak of crimson shot with scarlet slashed the sky like a sparkling sword unsheathed. It parted the two worlds and then the sun crested the black scrawl, revealing hills. It was a glorified hunter raising its standard in victory. Radiant orange, a smouldering sphere of flushed flame. A blinding white halo flickered across the high level ice as the light flickered across it and the pale sheen of violet and pink began to fade as it rode higher and higher… "I've never seen a dawn like it..." He muttered and their was a murmur from the others. "I've never seen a place like it." Serina added. A muted gasp bounced from one to the next as their eyes moved from the sun to the sudden revelation of a castle climbing up from the abyss. Draco could still see the thread, it's light dimming but still tracing to that same palace in the distance. Turrets rose up from a spiraling red stone, gold glittered in the sun, sparks twinkling in the dawn. "It's the Palace of Chandaras. I thought it were legend." Tyr's eyes had widened, voice a mere croak. And Draco knew that this was the real beginning. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
