The Mistress

    He watched from the shadows as the Dragoon prince approached the cottage, having managed to get back in time to do so. By now, Mandeleth would have fallen and the King and Queen would be dead. Darksolace would most likely be in search of the Dragoon prince to put an end to him, as well.
    This, however, was a part of the plan that eluded him. Why did the mistress want to have Lance think she was someone else? What was it that she would offer him?
    Lance knocked on the door bashfully, his heart was racing and his gaze could not focus on anything but his feet. It had taken him a week to work up the nerve to actually face her.
    He had seen her and had believed almost fully that it was Makayla. The spitting image of her, even. The dark, wavy hair. The purple color of her eyes. Even her wings. The only thing that bothered Lance was the fact that he had not seen Cynder anywhere.
    The baby red dragon was a gift from Lance to Makayla, and she would not have left the small creature so easily. Besides, it would not have just gone off on its own. Cynder saw Makayla as her mother, so she wouldn't have just left. Nevertheless, it would be a question he would have to ask when he had the free moment.
    He heard a snort over his shoulder and he glanced back, putting his hands up. Pretty much telling Fletch to calm down. The door swung open and a woman stood there a large stick in hand, almost as if she were going to beat him with it.
    Lance turned around just in time to see the stick and stepped back. “Whoa! I'm sorry its so--”
    “Lance?", the woman interrupted. The darkess had somewhat concealed him and he had not realized it before. It might have been somewhat hard for her to recognize him.    
    She put the stick down almost as soon as she had and jumped into his arms. “ What the hell are you doing here!?” she murmured into his chest, holding him tight.
    He was a bit shocked at first, and Fletch didn't say anything. It was somewhat odd.  He felt that the dragon would be almost as excited to see her as he had been. But the feeling of her body pressed against him made him calm, and he let his guard down. Lance slowly wrapped his arms around her and almost melted in her arms.
    Allyssia had been planning this from the start. She was Makayla's sister and knew that she had a striking resemblance to her. She would, however, only get one shot at this and the night was in her favor.
    She would lay with him and perhaps have him plant his seed.  A son that could take the Dragoon throne one day. A son of both the higher beings in the lands of Greystone-- The Draconians and the Dragoons. A son that would devistate her sister when she heard word of it. So far, it was going well. She couldn't help but smile. Cold tears ran down her face, as if she were putting on a show for him. She leaned back and engulfed him in a kiss, pouring passion into it. Passion from her intent to make her sister suffer. Passion that was all that she knew.
    Something felt off. Lance couldn't help but think that there was something wrong with her, and he broke from the kiss.
    “ What's wrong? What happened? Why did you leave?,” he fumbled, the questions coming too fast to wait for a response to each. He had the need to ask so much more from her, but those were the ones that weighed on him the most.
    Allyssia sighed, breathing deeply. Her arms let him loose, and she pulled away and turned from him.
    “ Your people hate me,” she muttered, almost utterly under her breath. “ They would denounce you as King if you continued to stay with me. I know this.”
    Allyssia was trying to play on his heart, but she couldn't have the same emotions as Makayla, or the same feelings. So, she had turned away to conceal what she wasn't feeling.
    Lance, however, noticed that the weather had not changed though her demeaner did. The sadness that seemed to well up in her voice would have normally brought a little thunder and, atleast, a bit of cloud coverage.
    She could feel his interest slipping as if she knew that he was starting to doubt her. She turned around again, putting herself back in his arms. She leaned up and kissed him again, making him see the tears on her cheeks. Lance melted into the kiss for a moment but, again, for some reason felt wrong again. This time he pushed away, tears in his eyes.
    “ Wh--who are you?,” he muttered, leaning against the door almost as if he were broken. He reached up and clenched his chest.
    Her eyes widened as she moved over to him. “ I'm-- I'm SO sorry, Lance. I--, “ she was started to weep. It was more convincing this time “ I couldn't help myself. I heard what my sister had and wanted it so bad. I've always watched and hoped that some day I could bring myself out to her but--, “ she was kneeling infront of him now, her purple eyes meeting his. “ But watching, I found myself falling for you. Just like my sister had. I--,“ she choked on her words. “ I couldn't believe it when she up and left like that!” 
    Allyssia was motionless, almost as if she had expected an answer from him. He could offer none, and regained his composure as he forced himself to his feet. His face hardened as he looked down at her.
    “ So, where has she gone now?” It was as if he had completely changed. As if he had returned to his mission and that she was only a stepping stone. One in which he would use along his path. The tears were still swimming in his eyes, but his expression and face were completely different.
    “ Sh--she--,” Allyssia couldn't help but studder a little bit as she tried to respond. Her expression changed from concern to almost fear, but she could change gears like that. Her emotions did not control her. “She just disappeared. I-- I used to be able to feel her,” she said quietly, as if she were giving up. “ But I stopped feeling anything.”
    That was true, partly. She could feel the storm inside Makayla. She could feel the weather changing unnaturally and had been able to use that to follow her. But, lately that all had stopped.
    Lance put his palm to his face and stepped past her. “ So is there a chance you could pick up her trail again?”
    She didn't want to lie to him, but a question like this was easy to work around. “ I suppose I would if we were closer together.”
    Allyssia was being honest, to some extent. She could only feel the change in the weather that Makayla's power had brought on, and the closer the two of them were the more intense the difference in how she felt was.
    His eyes widened as he thought for a moment. He felt he could probably use her in order to find Makayla and perhaps convince his love to come back to Arbearl with him. No more trials. No more hazing. If his people did not approve of them then they would have to just banish him and send them both off. It's not that simple, the thought edged into his mind as he grunted. He moved past Allyssia to the door yet again.
    “ Wa--wait!“, she forced herself to her feet “ Don't go!”, her face flush and full of tears. You could feel the moisture in the room begin to gather and work itself toward her. Almost as if it were a smaller version of Makayla's storms.
    Lance couldn't help but stop and look back, seeing the moisture materialize as clouds in the room. It was like it had reacted to her tears. Like a defense mechanism, the same as Makayla's.
    “ Do you wish to help me find your sister?” he bluntly asked her. His face cold and emotionless toward her.
    He gritted his teeth, and looked away. He still realized that she was nearly the spitting image of Makayla. And that she was wearing a night gown. He had all but forgotten that he had come here in the middle of the night.
    She was a little slow with her answer, looking away for a moment. As he looked away from her, she forced a little heat to her face making her flush bashfully.
    “I had given up hope on finding her when she left Arbearl. If she doesn't want to be found, you won't find her.” She bit her finger, almost as if she had something else in mind. She then took a deep breath and agreed to help him. “ But I suppose you need me.”
    Her stomach was churning a little bit at how helpless she was acting. It was sickening to her. Yet. for the time being, it would have to do. She needed Lance for her plans to come to pass.
    Lance nodded and opened the door to the cottage “ Good. Get dressed, we leave shortly,” his words were quick and to the point.
    He would keep her around while he found Makayla, but something about her made him feel uneasy.
    Allyssia made her way to the bed chambers and removed the night gown she had picked for the evening. She reached over to the already laid out travel tunic as she glanced to the corner “ How did the attack on Mandeleth go,” she muttered quietly to the silent observer.
    The dark figure stepped from the shadows ever so carefully as to reveal himself to her. It was Skat. Small and frail looking, but more dangerous than most anyone in the lands of Greystone.
    She had taught him how to use a power that was given to him at birth. The spider gnome was born and found in the pits of a dragons grave yard. The graves in which the undead dragon, Trekkanon, and Darksolace had lain many slain dragons to rest almost 30 years ago.  Skat stayed with his people up until a few years ago when he had met Allyssia. Most of them had not wanted to have much to do with him. They said they could smell the stench of death on him. A superstitious bunch of people, he had been an outcast and easily recruited to her cause.
    Why wouldn't he go with her? For one, Allyssia's beauty was unmatched. The power radiated in her eyes. Even now, he could not take his eyes off of her silky smooth, pale skin and her wavy locks of dark hair. He caught himself staring and seemed to lightly blush below his bristly white-haired gnarled face. She pretended not to notice. Or she did not care one or the other. 
    " It went well, my mistress. The slayer of dragons now has Mandeleth keep to call his home,” he said jokingly. He glanced to the doorway, making sure noone was there. “ He is a loose cannon, my mistress.”
    She knew he was talking about Darksolace. It was his newfound take on life, and the necromancer knew more about the man than the dragon slayer knew about himself. Of course, to bring a person as powerful as Darksolace back to life you had to become one with him. Skat knew the man well. He knew that the dragon slayer would search for more power, and that power being what had destroyed all of the plans Sypher and Kainen had made. It was that hunger that brought down the army of the dark elves and allowed Tallen to gain control over the palace of Mandeleth in the first place.
    “ I'm aware of this," she acknowledged. " I will deal with him when the time is right.”
    Allyssia was nearly dressed now. It was a traveling tunic that was not hers but the property of the mistress of the house. It was not made for long distance traveling, but it would do. It fit her a little more loose than she had liked, but not loose enough that Lance would notice anything. Men were easy that way. She thought to herself.
    “ I want you to keep yourself in the shadows. I'm going to take Lance north, over the pass and into the mountains. But the ice druid must be preoccupied while we do this,” she leaned down and looked skat in the eyes. “ I do not want your jealousy to get the better of you. I need his seed. In the cold of the mountains-- he will need warmth. And there is where she will come for him”
    A faint smile crosses her face as she holds Skat's shoulders. “ Understood?”
    For a moment, Skat's eyes showed a hint of anger, and then they seemed to cool with her reassurance. “Afterwords, we will dispose of him. Correct?”
    She nodded in response and stood grabbing what appeared to be a walking stick with a gem in the tip. The gem matched her eyes, a glint of purple and brilliant brightness even in the darkness.
    Skat snorted one quick time and looked to the window. “ The dragon slayer oversteps his bounds,” he grumbles, as he steps to --holding his staff up.
    You could hear the shrill of Trekkanon in the night sky, and  in response Fletch had shrilled out in warning. The front door of the cabin came open and Lance was coming down the hallway when Allyssia came quickly out of the room.
    “ What was that?!” she exclaimed, as she was covering her ears.
    Lance didn't have time to answer her. He grabbed her by the arm and took her out to the porch, tossing her on Fletch's back. The dragon hissed and snapped at Lance, but the dragoon held his finger up.
    “ Take her to safety. I don't want any arguing!” His face was serious. Allyssia was the best chance they had of finding Makayla. He knew it. Even if something felt wrong with the whole situation, he would have to take the chance. It was all he had to work on.
    Fletch snapped at him one last time and yelped. He padded along and flapped his mighty wings, taking off. Leaving Lance behind to fend for himself. He hissed again while in the air as if he were weeping, hoping to see Lance again.
    Trekkanon took note of the large black dragon taking flight  in the open field and quickly changed course to pursue it. The dragon was smaller than he remembered 7 years ago, but it was still rather large. The undead beast flapped his wings and gained  a little more height in the air. He then tucked them and gained immense amounts of speed, trying to aim himself like a bullet at the black dragon.
    Fletch was quicker. With a mighty flap of his wings, he moved above Trekkanon as he swooped by. He reared his head back and shrilled loudly. The snout erupted a dark spark and fire burst from his lips. The fire was as dark as night and the dark flames were known to be able to burn though just about anything. The only flames known to be hotter than the black flames were the flames of the Brother Blade.
    The fire hit Trekkanon directly, but didnt phase the larger beast. It yelped over its shoulder as he reared its own head back, and seemed to roll in the air. With its belly facing upward, it hurled a net of slime toward Fletch and his rider.
    It almost seemed like the attack would hit when a funnel cloud burst from Allyssia's hand and ripped them a perfect size hole through the net of liquids. Fletch answered Trekkanon's attack with a few short bursts of fireballs. They weren't the same as the steady stream he had fired before. These had large mouthfuls of saliva in them, and would cause a tremendous amount of impact if hit.
    The blasts all missed. The dragon had rolled back around and was now swooping between the trees. Fletch hissed in dismay as he changed course quickly. He could not outrun the other dragon and he could not destroy it. Trekkanon was undead and the beast would live forever. That was part of the other dragons curse. The only thing Fletch had to his advantage was his intelligence, and perhaps his rider at the moment. He could sense her immense power, but didn't know how well or if she was willing to use it.
    Lance had noticed Trekkanon take off after Fletch, and watched the black dragon handle the situation. He turned just in time to see the hooded figure at the edge of the forest area. The figure didn't move. It stood 6 feet tall and was a rather large build. He recognized it almost instantly. But, as an 11 year old boy, Darksolace had seemed so much bigger 7 years ago.
    The dragoon grunted and flaired his wings. The sun being down left him at a disadvantage if the slayer wished to attack. For some reason, Darksolace did not. He was just standing there, his eyes fixed on the events at hand. Darksolace isnt after me! He murmured to himself as he turned and leapt through the air, flairing his wings again.
    At this point, he would have to trust Fletch and what the dragon had planned to do. Both of them already knew that Trekkanon was undead, and in turn-- a god of dragons. The beast was unkillable and, to top it off, Darksolace was not commanding him. Getting rid of the dragon slayer was going to be little help this time around.
    Trekkanon reared about again, coming straight at Fletch. This time from the left. As he got close, he flaired his wings and reached out with his dark menacing talons. Fletch flaired his wings, as well, but was too slow to reacth. The claws made contact-- one snagging his hind leg and the other gripping the front. Fletch yelped in dismay as his head jerked down to snap his teeth at the claw digging into his front leg.
    Trekkanon reared back as they both started falling to the ground rapidly. Fletch seemed to realize what he was doing and he jerked his head up, snatching the underside of the undead beast's neck with his fangs.  He then let out one of the loudest shrills you would ever hear from Fletch. It was as if he put all his might and energy into this one final burst of black fire.
    It errupted from his mouth at point blank while the fangs held onto the other creatures throat. And even though the attack would not kill Trekkanon, the dragon whipped and yelped in pain. The blast was so hot that Allyssia had to leap from the back of the black dragon. Her wings flaired, she would have to dislodge them or she would lose her ride.
    With a flap of her dark angelic wings, she lifted her staff up. Her eyes turned pitch black and the pupal turned blood red as a tightly condenced cloud brought itself out of the tip of the staff. She then pointed it at Trekkanon, careful not to hit Fletch, and it almost seemed as if snowflakes began to form around  the clouds.
    She had to get closer, she thought as she flaired her wings again. Her concentration still keen, and her eyes now weeping with tears of blood. She was small enough to fit between the two and, she let the storm go.
    The clouds whipped out almost in an uncontrollable and violent way. It was the full force of a blizzard wrapped up in a tight little package, and the magic was aimed at the undead beast. The other side of the cloud was facing Fletch.
    Trekkanon held on. They were all falling to the ground, wings flapping and slapping at the air as they tried to keep flight. The bone chilling cold and the immense heat tearing at his flesh all at the same time. If the dragon had ever felt pain, this would be the moment.
    Fletch jerked one last time, ripping himself free of the undead dragon and flairing his wings. He flaps one good time to maintain his composure. He leaned down to his front leg as he had his wings spread in a steady glide. He licked his wound and grimaced a bit.
    “ Fletch,” he could hear Lance's voice. 
    The dragoon had wings. However he could not fly very well. His wings were made for gliding and he could only take flight in the daylight. Fletch could not help but chitter at the fact that the dragoon had attempted to come to his rescue, none the less. He also turned to face Allyssia, and nodded in respect.
    Trekkanon was gone. The damage done to his flesh left the undead dragon not wanting any more. He would leave and heal his body before returning to give chase. This would give them time to recuperate and move on.
    Allyssia found herself back on the back of the black dragon. Her wings allowed her to fly, but they were causing her to lose her strength-- A drawback to being mortal while having the wings of an angel. The feathers looked as if they had started to wilt as well. She had used a lot of her energy in that fight. She did not have enough strength to sustain flight any more, and Fletch could see this.
    Lance was just as grateful to her as his dragon was. They found an opening in the forest beyond the canyon which would keep Darksolace at least a day behind, if he had followed. Something that was bothering the dragoon was why the dragonslayer was after her.
    It didnt take Allyssia long to find her bag for sleeping. She had not said a word since the confrontation, and Lance was seeing to Fletch's wounds. The dragon was resilient. The wound on his hind leg was shallow and caused no problems. But the one on his front leg was deep.
    The prince moved to one of the traveling bags that he had kept and pulled a large  hook needle out. Fletch sniffed almost as if he were saying NO, and that he was fine. Lance couldn't help but chuckle. He then grabbed his staff and pulled one of the swords from it, laying it in the small bit of fire that they had made for the nights camp. He pulled a bit of twine from the sack as he moved over to Fletch and hooked it into the dragons flesh. The dragon snarled in response and looked as if he wanted to snap at Lance, but decided against it.
            Lance diligently tied up the wound and then gritted his teeth. The wound was deep enough that it was still seeping blood, even though Lance had sewn it up.
    “ It's time, bud. Try to keep it down.”
    Fletch knew what was next. The dragoon reached over and grabbed the handle of the sword and, before Fletch could react, he put the glowing hot end on the wound--  forcing it to cauterize.
    Now, you wouldn't think a creature that could breath fire could feel heat so much, but it was not true. Fletch's body shuddered in pain. More pain than the initial attack had. You could hear him grinding his teeth together as he maintained his composure without making a sound.
    Lance didn't leave the sword on very long. He checked the wound over and looked up at the dragon. Fletch looked down at him and then to the sword almost threateningly. The prince couldn't help but smile up at him and reach up, rubbing his head.
    He tried to take the dragon's mind off the pain for a second.
    “ So, What do you think of her?”, he muttered to the dragon. Fletch paused a second, as if to think his answer over. He then started making a few gutteral sounds and sniffs on the air. He stopped, looking over at her sleeping. Sniffing a few times, he then looked down at his leg
    Lance nodded and looked around. “i know she did. And I do agree something feels--,” he cut off, noticing her roll around in the sleeping bag. “ We will just see how it goes... For now.”

The Fall of Mandeleth

Mandeleth Over Run

It was dusk was when the attack came. It was unforeseen, and had only been a week since Lance had left the palace of Mandeleth. A beast in the air swooped around a few times as shadows moved in ever so casually from the forest. At first, the home guard thought the shadows were seeking shelter from whatever was in the air and they opened the gates to bring them inside.
The lands had been peaceful for far too long and the men and women were not prepared for what came next. The guard that went to greet the people outside the gates suddenly smelled a horrible stench on the air, almost as if it was death itself walking toward them. Not walking anymore, but running. It only took them moments to realize that they were being attacked by none other than reanimated bodies. Bodies from the Mandeleth grave yards a little more then 200 yards up the path.
Someone or something had brought back the loved ones and comrads of the men and women of the city. They were going to use them to over run Mandeleth.
Skat was among the men and women of the undead army-- His staff glowing a purple haze in the air. Next to him was a dark figure. His movements were nearly as death-like as the men and women surrounding Skat. It was the spider gnomes creation, or better yet recreation. He had brought back Darksolace, the dragon slayer. In order to keep Darksolace animated until he was able to maintain his own life, Skat had to stand by his side. Trekkanon, however, was a different story. He had always been undead and just required motivation to attack. What better motivation than the chance of getting his masters life back?
The large green dragon swooped down, hurling what looked like regurgitation in the Mandeleth court. As the slop hit the ground and the few people it landed on, bodies seemed to show themselves. More of the undead bodies started to rise out of the acidic mess on the ground. The guard in disarray, it wasnt hard for Trekkanon to land in the court and start bashing on the palace doors. The dragon would break through shortly.
Darksolace made it to the gates of Mandeleth, and with the guards worrying about the dragon and the undead that had already made it inside the gates-- they failed to realize that the gates themselves had not been sealed properly. Darksolace reached up and grabbed the lower end of the gate. Since his body was not that of living flesh, the muscles themselves had no limit to their strength. He had no pain to stop him from lifting it up and sliding under the gates of Mandeleth. It was at that time that he had looked back at the gate falling down, leaving Skat on the other side. Darksolace could not venture far from the spider gnome, and he knew this.
He grumbled a bit as he found a soldier moving to make sure the gate was sealed properly. The home guard was on the scene now and the men were starting to get their bearing.
He reached up and snached the man by his throat. His other hand reaching to the man's chest. It was almost as if Darksolace had ripped something out of the soldier, because in just one second his body became more lively and the man fell limp. Darksolace's skin seemed to show a bit more color and livelyhood. You could start to see his features reanimate his face.
He turned to Skat and smiled with a nod of approval. "You have given me what I desire, Skat. You may return to your mistress."
Skat wasted no time in moving away from the gate and heading back into the forest. His mistress would have already found Lance Eugenio by now, and whatever her plan was he wanted to be there to protect her bar anything go wrong. He would watch from the shadows, of course, not wanting to place his mistress in any unwanted danger or any chance of messing up her plans.
Darksolace did not waste any time. He moved along the court making his way to the palace where Trekkanon would have beat the door down by now. The dragon could not fit inside the palace, but the dragon slayer could. Another guard decided to try and stand his ground against Darksolace. It was in that moment when the moonlight shown that you could see his reanimated features clearly. His beard had grown back, full and long. His hair had fallen past his shoulders, yet again. You could see the glint of a sword handle over his shoulder, as if the sword itself was radiating energy. But the dragon slayer didn't need the weapon. All he needed were his hands.
Darksolace made quick work of the man, removing what was left of his lifesource to feed his own. He tossed the body aside and moved to the door of the palace.
Nina Mediere, the queen of Mandeleth, was in the bedchambers tucking her sons in when the attack happened. She heard the men outside scurry around, and more men moving to refortify the posts. She patted Joseph, the oldest of the two boys, on the head and looked him in the eyes.
“ You keep yourself and Thomas locked inside here until mother returns, okay?”
Joseph nodded in response. The kid had a little bit of a dark demeaner about him, but he loved his mother dearly. He knew she was going to have another son or daughter, and he was scared that she would put herself in harm's way.
Even though he was only 7 years old, Joseph understood more than most children his age. He had never been one to play, or do anything that the other kids did. He found most of his time well spent observing and reading-- Doing things that would lead one to believe he would be a great strategist one day.
The queen stood tall and walked to the doorway. Her blue hair laid about mid-back, complimented by her eyes which were an even deeper blue. Looking Nina in the eyes, you would feel you could see the beauty of the ocean. The deep blue in all her features-- It was almost as if something had magicaly altered her. It was true, for the most part. Nina didn't know if it was the magic of the relic she had worn since birth that made her hair and eyes this way, but the magic and the color were radiating from her. Some of which could be seen in the eyes of her sons as well. She was slinder, and you could tell by her walk that she was agile. Possibly, the most agile in all the lands of Greystone. However, she was bearing child, and being 3 moons along, it was starting to take its toll on her body a little.
Just with every pregnancy, this one was no different. The child was taking the nutrience it needed for its growth, and leaving the mothers body what was left. Nina found herself tired more times than not, and when she slept she woke nauseous and sick. That, however, was not going to stop her from protecting her family and her boys.
Tallen Mediere was already at the front line. His long coat on, his sword flaring to life. He laid body down after body, but they seemed to just continue to move. Even creatures that had been sliced in half would get back up. He was starting to see people he recognized. First, it had been the few people from the home guard that had protected him in the first years of his kingship. Some where guards that had been parts of his kingdom before he was even born. But why were they all here? Tallen shifted his stance as he noticed the dragon trying to force its way into the palace. The sweat dropped from his bow, and the blue fire on the sword dissipated as he calmed himself and looked around. The queen was inside, and if Trekkanon was here--so was Darksolace. The dragon slayer would not go after him first like he had 7 years ago. Darksolace had been destroyed by the magic inside Nina and the relic she had worn around her wrist-- A talisman of unspeakable power. The relic had only ever come to life once, and it had transferred what was left of Darksolace's life force into Tallen's body, bringing him back from what would have been his grave.
The king gritted his teeth as he saw the doors buckle on the palace. His eyes shifted, and he saw the ledge above the palace door and the wall next to him. Tallen jumped up on the wall and made his way down the path to the balcony above, cutting an undead guard down along the way.
Movements sleek and quick, he sprung up over the balcony rail and used the Brother Blade to cut through the bars on the window. They melted like butter and he slammed his way through the painted glass window, rolling and landing on the ground infront of the undead Trekkanon. The dragon hissed and reared its head back, barely fitting its way into the palace doors. It lunged forward with a shrill, and glops of saliva and acidic liquid hit the walls and ground inside the palace doors. The dragon then reared itself out, almost as if it had not been interested in Tallen at all, and moved on to a different entrance.
The gloop on the ground seemed to start to materialize. Although Tallen had been quick enough to make it out of the way of the initial attack, he did, however, seem to pick up a few unwanted guests in his palace. These undead creatures were a bit stronger than just your every day run-of-the-mill zombies. They were quicker, faster, and all seemed to possess superhuman strength. Almost as if they were demons possessing the bodys of his former friends and allies. Even the men dying in the court yard were coming back as the undead monsters.
A solitary tear seemed to fall down the cheek of the king as he lunged himself into the fray. The sword blazing with hot blue fire, whipping around, turning the creatures to husks of ash and cinders. The fire was actually burning the bodies to the point of non-reanimation, and this time they were not coming back to attack him again. It was then that Tallen saw the solitary figure slip by. It was quicker than he had imagined it could be and was gone in a flash.
“Nina..," he muttered under his breath as he feined back to avoid an attack from a former guard. He swung his sword with a fit of rage, and the fire erupted around the living corpse. He then turned to face the direction of the figure that had gotten past him.
Tallen found himself outnumbered--surrounded-- and nearly helpless to get beyond the mass of these things. How had they gotten so quickly into the palace walls? How had they been able to bring his men down so quickly? And, on top of that, how had they managed to sneak around him when he was trying to fend off the opening Trekkanon had made? Those were questions that would have to wait until later. The main question he was going to have to ask now, though-- How was he going to get past them in order to save Nina?
The shadow of the figure worked its way up the stairs and was met by an arrow whizzing in his direction. Darksolace caught it in his chest and quickly reached up, breaking it off and throwing the arrow down. As he looked up to see where the shot was fired, two more buried in his chest almost as quick as the first one had fired. He did, however, manage to see the blue hue of Nina's hair in a silhouette of the shadows. The bow thudded with another shot, and Darksolace couldn't help but retreat back, brushing the attacks off and breaking the other two arrows off. If he had been living, these shots would have ended him. But now he was something more-- Something darker and more sinister. He couldn't help but laugh.
“ I'm immortal now, woman,” he spoke out, hoping for a response.
The queen was smarter than that. She moved beyond one pillar to the next, her steps so quiet they would never have been heard, even by the trained ear. Nina pulled the bow back again, and an arrow appeared between the string and the shaft. Her front hand, the index finger pointing to where she needed to fire, and her back elbow straight in line with it. Her breathing steady and faint. She could almost hold this pose all day-- If she had been 100%. But, she wasn't, and the pregnancy would take its toll on her soon.
Darksolace couldn't help but speak again. He was hoping to draw her out, wanting to get rid of her before he dealt with Tallen. He would have to do so quickly, otherwise the king would make his way up to protect her. “ Your magic is the reason I am going to rip you apart before your husband gets here...”
He was creeping up the stairs ever so slightly. His eyes fixated on the darkness that was the corridor in the upstairs chambers. He heard the thud of another bowstring released and caught the arrow with his hand. He jumped up over the rail quickly and headed in the direction of the bow, and he caught two more arrows in the chest as he made it to the pillar and reached for her.
Nina planted one foot on the pillar and sprung to the side, firing another arrow. She put another foot on the next pillar, bouncing off of it, flipping over the dragon slayer, and fired two more shots in a cartwheel motion several feet above. The arrows penetrated his skin and the other two had jammed into his shoulders, preventing his arms from moving. She knew now she couldn't kill whatever it was that was after her now, she was just buying time-- Slowing him down until help came. Or, at least, trying to.
The two shots had not slowed Darksolace any and he almost reached out and snagged her. It was apparent the dragonslayer was getting a bit frustrated with her when he pulled the weapon from his shoulder. You could hear the sparks and the sound of lightning as he pulled it free. The booming thunder from the weapon rattled Nina a little.
She held her ground, however. She feinted left and released an arrow. It pierced the foot of the undead creature, but he jerked free almost instantly, leaving a bit of dried husk and undead flesh on the ground. When he reached for her, she fired at his hands and slapped him with the end of the bow. Nina used the end of the bow again to slap the sword away, rolling backwards, and firing upward. An arrow pierced his chin and went through his skull. The attack still had no effect.
Darksolace began to laugh hysterically as he brought the sword down on her. It moved almost as if lightning had struck. Nina managed to roll to the side, but the thunderous sound of the weapon was almost as devastating as the strike. She knew the weapon. It was Soulfury. The dark elf, Kainen, had weilded it when Tallen had battled him, and the weapon had nearly destroyed the king. Darksolace had nearly destroyed the king, himself, when he was alive. And although he was a bit slower and less agile than she remembered, he was way more resiliant to her attacks. She retreated again, trying to find escape in the shadows of the dark corridors. Her breathing getting heavier as the lack of energy was waning on her. Her stomach was also getting queezy, almost as if she was about to hurl. Perhaps the stench from the husks of bodies and what not were getting to her now. Either way, it slowed her movements, and Darksolace was able to close the gap again, this time with what seemed like would be a fatal blow. Her legs couldn't move her fast enough to get away.
The window behind her shattered, and a rather large figure came snarling through it. The eyes of the beast were glowing red, and you could see the faint glint of silver in it's hair. Darksolace's weapon pierced its skin and cut deep, but at the same time it almost seemed as if the creature did not slow. It was when Nina caught her bearings that she realized it was a man. Dark and familiar, almost as if she had seen him before.
Darksolace reared back as he noticed the sword penetrate the skin with no damage. He then feinted to one side and struck again. The man almost seemed as if he was not defending against the attacks. It was as if the body was healing faster than he was doing the damage.
“ Who the fuck are you?!,” Darksolace screamed in dismay as the clawed hand reached up to snach him up. As the large figure did so, Darksolace reached up with his own hand and grabbed ahold of its wrist. The death that was part of Darksolace's body began to spread from his hand onto his new opponant. There was an audible hiss from the darkness as the red in the man's eyes glinted, and a foot hammered hard into Darksolace's chest. He flew back, slamming hard into a pillar, breaking rock and mortar, and had flung like a ragdoll to the side of it.
Torian Payne-- Nina now realized who it was. It was the vampire who had protected Tallen 7 years ago. The one who had decided to take on Sypher, while Tallen dealt with Kainen and the dark elves.
Torian was neither a man nor a demon, he was something of a flux in between. His body had the undead capabilities of a vampire, but with none of the weaknesses. Some said to believe he lived in a life of flux between the living and the dead. Something about him being here made her even more weary. The vampire never got involved unless something important was afoot. It was during this thought that she noticed him glance at her over his shoulder, and then back to the dragon slayer.
“ You should leave here. Go get your boys, and leave Mandeleth!”
Her eyes filled with tears. Leave her home? How could she do so? Everyone she knew was here, everyone she cared about. The people of Mandeleth needed her. She stood up and drew her bow again.
“No! I will not lea--” she was cut short by a large snarl, and Torian slamming his hand into a nearby pillar.
“This palace and the kingdom of Mandeleth will fall tonight! But its not lost. If you stay here, your friends and allies will suffer fatal blows and not be able to return from undeath. Understood?!”
Darksolace was starting to stir, and Nina could feel the gravity of what the vampire was saying. Torian glanced back over his shoulder at her one final time.
“ The one in your womb holds the key to Mandeleth's return. She must not forget the family in which she is born to.”
The attack almost came as instantly as Torian turned. Darksolace slammed into the vampire with his shoulder, as if he were just trying to get the behemoth out of the way so that he could deliver a fatal blow to the queen. There would be no future for her if he had anything to do with it.
The attack was delivered too slow and nina rolled away with ease. She fired a few arrows and made her way to her boys rooms.
“ Joseph, unlock the door!!!” she screamed and almost instantly the hatches came undone and the door swung open behind her.
Darksolace slung his sword heavily in her direction but it slammed into the door sending splinters and wood in all directions. The weapon spun about and landed strangely in the room next to the two boys. The dragonslayer reached up almost as if he expected the weapon to return to him but the spark went out of the blade. It did not reactivate. Shocked for an instant, the undead creature took a heavy punch from the vampire knocking him back into the palace wall. He then was hammered in the chest by a shoulder which sent both of them through the wall. Rocks and mortar seemed to fall slowly with the two as they headed down from the 2nd story of the palace, to the ground in the court yard. Both landed hard and even though neither could die, the fall took its toll.
It was at this time that Trekkanon was making another pass. He swooped down and with a sinister screech, spiting acid all over the vampire. Instantly, Torian could feel it seeping into his skin, but his body would fight it. However, for the moment he could feel his body moving on its own. It was as if he was being controlled by the substance. In his mind, he screamed NO. But he was not in control, and the word never became audible. He moved back through the entrance of the palace and found the king.
Tallen was fighting off the creatures of the undead still. Thousands of husks lay on the ground and he was moving past them up the stairs. He caught up with the door that had been shattered and found Nina and the boys.
“ Let's get out of here,” he said to them as he turned to see Torian moving up the stairs at a fast pace. His skin was a different color than he remembered it. His skin was that of the people in the court. The men and comrads he had been forced to slay.
It was at that moment that the weapon became active again. Soul Fury. A powerful sword that was known as one of the three swords of power. The weilder of the weapon could do feats of greatness if they were what the weapon chose for its master. The other two swords were named Darkblade and SolarFlair. Darkblade was the sword of complete darkness, and SolarFlair was a weapon of holy might. Soul Fury was a weapon that chose its master based on the strength of their soul. And only a powerful soul could weild it. It was a weapon of balance, neither good nor evil. A weapon which could only be weilded by pure balance.
Joseph had been the intended weilder. It stood on end infront of him, sparking and calling for him to reach out to it. The boy could feel it and responded in the only way he knew how-- he grabbed the blade. He was only 7 years old, and still a child by any means, but the sword did not care. It needed a master and it needed someone who was a balance in nature.
As soon as he grabbed it, lightning struck and engulfed the whole family. Joseph, Thomas, Nina, and Tallen found themselves clear across the Rainbow lake. They were halfway up the hillside, in sight of Mandeleth, and could see the smoke and reminents of the last battle.
It took them a few moments to realize what had happened. Tallen glanced down at Joseph, who was clutching Soul Fury like it was a lifeline.
“ Joseph, where did you get that?” he said almost angrily. He knew the blade was a bad omen, and brought trouble to whoever weilded it.
Joseph paused and looked up at his father. His response had to be collected and well placed.
“ The weapon came to me, father... and it saved us.”
Joseph looked up over the forest top to see the smoke and devastation that was once Mandeleth. The city could be rebuilt, but its people were lost to them for now. Tallen and his family had been forced to leave their home and their friends behind.
Nina reached up and grabbed Tallen's hand. He was still worried about the weapon Joseph had aquired, and wondered what it would take to get the boy to release it. Her touch snapped him out of it, and he reached up and carressed her face ever so slightly. Pulling Nina close to him, he kissed her on the forehead and then wrapped his arm around her, his eyes welling with tears. He had lost his friends and his kingdom. But he had managed to survive with his family. Someday he would return to bring a cure to whatever Trekkanon had spread and bring his peaceful kingdom back to prosperity. It was a silent vow.
It was almost as if Nina had read his mind when she spoke. “ We'll return and take it back.”
Tallen nodded. “ First, we have to find a few answers.”
He glanced at Joseph and Thomas. Then to his wife. “ I need you to take them to Bulgard and stay with David.” He looked her in the eyes. “ I'm going to go find Lance.”

New Respect

*Old Friends and New Respect


Seven years had past since he had visited Mandeleth, the capital of the Elves. Not much had changed. The home guard were still at every post as he had remembered, save for a few faces that seemed to be new. The palace was still as emaculate as he could remember, however, there were now stained glass in the upper floor windows. The white walls that once protected it against the armies of the Dark Elves still seemed new and impenetrable. The city was the largest in the continent of Greystone, and Lance knew that if anyone had any information about Makayla's whereabouts-- Tallen would.
Lance smirked as he signaled Fletch, the large Black dragon, to land in the courtyard. A few eyes had shifted his way and were starting to draw a little bit of unwanted attention. As the dragon landed as graceful as a bird, a few guards stepped back and drew their weapons with haste. Lance hopped from the back of the black dragon to the ground and glanced around with a smug smile. He looked for whom he could see was in charge. One older soldier stood out amongst the other men, so he decided to approach him. The soldier must have been a member of the home guard because he had the Mediere crest on his chest, and seemed a bit more at ease than the others.
“Is the king in?” Lance asked nonchalantly. Almost as if he deserved their respect.
The elder man recognized the dragoon and his dragon, yet he knew the last time he had seen Lance-- the man was but a boy barely in his 11th year. He grunted a little, remembering how cocky and inconsiderate the little brat had been seven years ago. Maybe the few years had taught him some manners. But something about Lance made him feel otherwise.
“You wish an audience with Tallen.” he chuckled a little bit. “Have you made an appointment?”
Lance's face grew a little more serious as he stepped up, removing his staff from the side strap on the dragons harness. Fletch hissed at Lance almost as if he were warning him. Lance stopped in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder at the dragon.
“It's okay. I'm not going to do anything foolish.” The dragon snapped almost as if he didnt believe him. Lance shrugged and put the staff to his back.
“I just know what's coming, so I wanna be prepared, thats all,” Still addressing the dragon.
The guard had grown a bit more uneasy, as it obviously had seemed as if the dragoon was having a conversation with the big, black dragon.
Lance turned his attention to the older gentleman again. “Home guard.. what is your name?” Getting straight to the point.
The home guard responded respectfully, as he knew he should to a prince.
“Dezmond. Im in char--”
"Your name will suffice." Lance said, cutting Dezmond short by holding up his hand. “I must speak to Tallen. He--," Lance paused for a second, taking a breath. It had been seven years-- would Tallen even care about that? “He owes me a favor,” he managed, having to choke the words out.
As a dragoon, and a Prince of the dragoons at that, he hated asking anyone for help. It had taken him three months since leaving Arbearl to decide to even come here.
Dezmond grunted again, displeased with the way the converstion had gone, nodding none the less.
“I'll go retrieve the King and see if he wishes an audience.” With that said, he left Lance and Fletch to the rest of the guards. A few more had appeared on the wall, bows in hand and armed with arrows, but not yet drawn for an attack.
“A bit more protective than I remember.” Lance mumbled back at Fletch. There was a hiss in response, and what seemed like a chomp and almost gutteral throat sounds.
The dragoon chuckled a bit. “I know you weren't here, and I know I'm a pompus ass. But still... you would think that your father gave his life for this place in vain.”
Fletch growled in response and Lance nodded.
“Well, either way this should be interesting,” he said as he moved away from the dragon.
A few minutes passed and the guard returned. Behind him was a man that stood slightly taller, with blonde hair that was worn past his shoulders, and green eyes. His signature samurai-style sword sheathed in the white scabbard was strapped across his back, covering part of the black duster he was wearing. Lance knew instantly that it was Tallen Mediere.
Seven years had not changed the King. Not at all. He was still wearing the same long coat, the same style of boots, and even had the same sword strapped across his back. although with the sword, Lance couldn't blame him. Standing six feet tall and having the porportionate weight, Tallen had always had a balanced build. By looking at him, you could tell he had power and the agility in which to weild it effectively.
You could even tell that the King was the strongest amongst the men in the court, just by the guards reaction alone. They seemed to become at ease when Tallen came in, almost as if they knew that whatever was about to happen their king would be able to handle it.
Lance couldn't help but smirk. In most kingdoms, the guards become more aggressive when the King is out in the open, but not in Mandeleth. Tallen had always wanted it this way. He was the kind of man who would not have his men stand in front of him if he could help it. And in turn he would not let them down. He was an unyeilding pillar in their mind. A man who had faced the unfaceable and come back unscathed and victorious. A man who had done nothing but get stronger since he had ended the war seven years ago.
“ Lance.” Tallen's eyes met the dragoons and you could see the hint of respect in them. It was only a hint, almost as if Lance still had a bit of proving to do to him. But it was just enough to let the dragoon know that Tallen had remembered his sacrifice, and remembered the courage of a boy who had no reason or anything to gain by aiding the elves in their struggle seven years ago.
“You have grown since I saw you last. I hope you have matured since then,” he said, teasing Lance a little. Mostly to size him up, as well as to see if he was correct in his observation.
The dragoon shook his head. “No, not so much," he smirked. "I've come to ask a favor. I need to ask if you could spare a few scouts to look for someone for me or perhaps have some information on the whereabouts of that person.”
The King moved out infront of his men and walked past Lance. He studied Fletch and reached up, rubbing the dragons muzzle almost as if he had known the dragon. “Fletcher's son I take it," he said, changing the subject as to ignore Lance's request.
Fletch was enjoying the rubbing until Lance turned rudely toward Tallen and slapped his hand away. “The last time you touched my dragon--"
“He was killed..,” Tallen cut him short and glanced over at Dezmond. He then turned to face Lance and sized him up. “Maybe if you were strong enough to fight by his side back then that wouldn't have happened.”
~~~
Lance couldn't help but think back to seven years ago when Fletcher and him had been out flying together. The dragon was Lance's father's. But the boy knew back then that when he became a man and a full fledged dragon rider, Fletcher would be his. He and the dragon were inseperable. Fletcher was the only friend Lance really ever had, and the only one that would listen or even understand how he felt or how he thought. The boy had always taken the dragon out on rides that he was not supposed to be on. And Fletcher, being the good friend that he was, would always obediently obey. As far as Lance knew, the dragon never told on him.
It was on their third outing that they had come across Tallen and company. To be precise, Fletcher and Lance had interrupted what appeared to be a duel between Tallen and his best friend at the time, David Ravenloch, who was now the king of the human kingdom.
Apparently the prince had snuck off to help Tallen on his quest and the young man had been adament on him going back. Adament enough that they had sparred to see what the outcome would be, and since Lance had rudely interrupted, the match turned out to be a draw.
It was in the days to come that they would realise that the dark elves had marched on the elven capital under the command of Kainen and the demon, Sypher.
Sypher had acquired the Dark Blade, and with it, he had brought back Darksolace, the dragon slayer, and his undead beast, Trakkenon. Lance and Fletcher had been the only real air combat that Tallen and crew had to offer. So, Lance jumped on the idea of helping the future king of the elves believing that some day his efforts would be repayed. However, he had never imagined that in the process of destroying Trakkenon, Darksolace would have been able to capture Lance.
In the end, Fletcher had given his life to get Lance to freedom. And, in the end, it was David Ravenloch who had slayed the dragon slayer.
Tallen at the time had been busy in a three-way battle between the demon, Sypher, and the leader of the dark elven nation, Kainen. Obviously, Tallen was the victor because he was still alive. However, Sypher had managed to escape somewhere.
~~~

“Dezmond," Tallen suddenly broke the silence, pulling his sword off his shoulder and taking off his coat. “ Would you hold my coat? I want to measure my friends strength.”
Lance couldn't help but smile. The reason he had grabbed his staff was because he knew this moment would come. The reason Tallen was taking his duster off was not because it would be in the way. It was almost an insult. The duster would give Tallen an advantage, considering it was woven with threads that were all soaked in red dragons blood and almost unbreakable. The duster was almost like a bullet proof vest and Lance knew this.
Dezmond came in and grabbed the cloak. It was in the instant that Tallen's hand let go of the cloak that Lance made his move. He knew that he wouldn't get very many openings and he also knew from his memories that the elven king would not hold back. The dragoon brought the staff around from behind his back and thrust it at Tallen. The elven king rolled around it and caught the middle of the wood with his hand and swung the hilted sword at Lance's midsection.
The dragoon prince was faster than the king had expected. Lance jumped back, releasing something from his staff, and the shimmer of a blade was now present in his hand. Tallen held what appeared to be the hilt and the rest of Lance's staff in his hand.
The king smirked.
“ Interesting,” Tallen murmered, as he charged in, thrusting his hilted sword at Lance yet again from what seemed to be too far away. The hilt, however, slid off the blade and became a projectile heading for Lance's head.
The dragoon prince maneuvered around it and brought his blade up to parry the thrusting sword. His other hand free, Lance knocked the sword aside, and almost instantly as it moved through the air, he felt the heat from the blue fire on Tallen's blade-- a sword forged in the immortal blue fires of his brothers' soul. Tallen's sword was a weapon that was made from the sheer bonds that had transended blood and race. It was a weapon made specifically to protect Tallen. Tallen's brother knew that the only way to protect the future king was to create a weapon with so much offensive force that it would be nearly unstoppable.
"Nearly..," Lance thought to himself, as he rolled around Tallen's arm, grabbing the back part of his staff and pulling his second sword free from it.
The move had left the dragoon prince open, however, and Tallen took advantage of it. The king stepped up and kicked the back side of Lance's leg, sending him down to one knee. And Tallen spun, bringing the Brother Blade down over Lance's head.
As the sword moved through the air, it erupted in blue fire like it always had when cutting the air. Thrusts weren't what set the sword ablaze, it was always the swings. Always a full slash or something of the sorts. Lance had seen the sword cut straight though other blades and even full suits of armor. But he knew his weapons weren't so weak to be broken by the Brother Blade's blue fire.
Already kneeling, Lance used his foot to spring up, reversing one sword in his hand and projecting himself in the air, parrying Tallen's sword and spinning around, slashing multuple times as he landed on his feet facing the king. Tallen had barely dodged the attack, and one could see a few of the king's hairs falling to the ground in response.
Before Lance could contemplate his next move, Tallen was on him again, his sword coming down across the prince's body this time. The dragoon did what he could and parried the attack. The bits of blue fire singeing the hairs on his arms. It was at that moment that Lance realized that Tallen was still holding the part of the staff in his hand. It was now just an empty scabbard from both sides, but it was still too late.
In an explosion of white light, Lance felt the searing pain of the wooden scabbard striking him across the jaw. He rolled with the blow, knowing that Tallen would not wait for him to recover and needed to regain his bearings. Lance released his wings where they hid wrapped about his body, and they came uncloaked, looking as if they were glass on the air. He flapped his wings one good time, helping him gain some distance between himself and the king. The space wasn't enough. Tallen was fast, even faster than he had originally imagined.
So far, except for the first move, Lance had been on the defensive. But, now being dazed, it looked almost as if it would be even more of a one-sided battle. The dragoon needed to do something quick. Quicker than what he had done. He parried another attack from the king, his dragonscales were now protruding from his forearms because of the heat from the kings sword. The blade was getting hotter, as well, almost as if it were accumulating energy from each swing and getting stronger each time.
Tallen came back with a horizontal slash again, but this time Lance had a plan. Instead of parrying the attack the prince rolled, planting his hand on Tallen's wrist and sprung into the air. His second sword clanged to the ground as he came down on the shoulder of the king with the other sword. Lance's blade cut into him lightly, but before it could go too far, the king had dropped one foot and managed to dodge the attack. At the same time, he used the other leg, timing the attack after the other was finished. Tallen sprung backwards, kicking his right leg up into Lance's chest and landing on his back, knocking the wind right out of Lance. The prince flaired his wings, however, and managed to put his feet to the ground -- skidding to a stop.
Tallen sprung from his back, landing on his feet again. And grabbing the white scabbard from the ground infront of him, he put the Brother Blade back inside.
“ Well done,” He said, reaching up and clenching his shoulder which was now bleeding. “You have gotten stronger.”
Tallen gave his appraise as he walked over to Lance and shook his hand, and then, embracing the dragoon in what seemed like a brotherly hug. “So... who is it you're looking for?”
Lance couldn't help but pause, trying to bring his words together in a way that Tallen would understand. After moments of consideration, he finally decided to tell the king the whole story.
He told Tallen about how the dragoons didn't accept outsiders, and how Makayla had been no exception. He told him how they had treated her, and how Lance had made sure that they paid for their crimes against her. Well, at least the two that he had gotten ahold of. He even made it evident that he had decided he would no longer carry the title of the Prince of the Dragoons and he would not claim a people who could not accept outsiders, even one he had chosen as a mate.
The king listened thoughtfully and debated on the matter. One could see his thoughts stirring in his eyes as he listened. You could also tell that his mind was made up. But, once he heard the discription of Makayla, his eyes narrowed slightly almost as if the description sounded familiar. When Lance was done talking, he finally answered.
“ Well, I do not know if she is the one you speak of. But, there is a woman who has been coming to town frequenly within the past three months bartering and buying food from the market. I believe she is staying past the lake over the hill.”
Lance choked. He found himself struck, it was almost as if it were to good to be true. She was here, near Mandeleth. It had to be her! Never in his life had he ever come across another Draconian, yet there was one coming to Mandeleth Market in forage for food. It did seem odd, because he knew Makayla could fend for herself in the woods and forage food not to mention find and or make shelter. Why would she come to town unless she was hoping Lance would find her?
Lance went to say something to Tallen, but the king cut him short.
“ Something about this does not seem right, though. If she were trying to hide or run from you, she would definitely know that coming here would be one of your first choices of action. Either she wants to be found or perhaps the person I speak of isn't Makayla at all.”
Tallen's eyes had a serious intent to them. He knew as well as Lance did that Draconians were a rare breed and most of them stayed hidden because of the scrutiny. Mandeleth, however, was a safe haven to a lot of different races. Draconian included. “ Let me send a scout out to bri--”
“ No!” Lance cut the king off. “ She probably came here because she knew I'd find her here. I think you're correct in that matter. I don't want to startle her more by making her feel like she might not be welcome in the one place I told her she would be safe no matter what.”
He looked around at the men who had all but dropped their guard now. “As a boy I fought for this place in order to bring that to Mandeleth.. I believed in it. I believe people should have a safe haven to call their home even if they have lost theirs.”
Tallen nodded. "Yes, I agree with you. But this is a conversation that should be had at another time. Right now, it's your heart that needs mending. Without it, you won't be able to steady your blade.”
It was almost as if Lance was being given a lesson by the king. He nodded and stepped away from Tallen, glancing back at Fletch.
“ We have a destination, Fletch. Northwest of here, past the lake, the cottage in the woodland openings."
The dragon responded with a hiss and a growl that made Lance touch his face in inspection, wincing at the pain of the already forming bruise.
“ Oh yeah.., “ he mumbled, looking back to Tallen. “ Can I have my sheath back?”
Tallen chuckled, realizing he was still holding it. He tossed it over to Lance, who in turn held it flat out and closed his eyes. It was almost instant, but both swords shot from seperate sides of the court yard and slid into the hilt blade first, making it a full staff yet again. “ "Interesting trick,” the king chuckled.
After a moment more of conversation, and a more detailed direction of where they would be going, Lance decided to take his leave. He hopped up on Fletch, and with a flap of the dragon's wings, a kick off and a little bit of debris-- they were off heading northwest in search of their first land mark...
The Lake.



[ If you like what you read with Lance. Check out Makayla and get to know her at http://makayladainchronicles.blogspot.com/ ] where as she is a big role in this blog. Even though her character my never appear in it. That you may just have to keep reading to find out ]