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 ]