Yveshin
For the first two days of their journey, luck was on their side, as the dangerous weather of the last few days had calmed. Well-rested and supplied, Yveshin and his three companions began their journey south, from Realm's End to the place Sanurius had called Nightshade Tower. On his own, the journey would take him three weeks, but his companions were notably less experienced in this weather and with them, it'd take him at least another full week to reach his destination. Still, he wouldn't want to travel without them. Naeem was a friend, especially after all they had been through in Drakesfield and though he knew Sanurius and Djelef not quite as well yet, both quickly grew on him, the former with his reliability, the latter as an endless fountain of knowledge on days long gone and those still to come.
From their talks, a picture became clearer, slowly and terribly. Human prophecies spoke of the Seven Marks and their bearers, the Marked Seven. Some of those seven marks had been known in human myths for centuries and millennia, others had never been seen by mortal eyes. And all of those tales spoke of a time of great calamity, when all seven of them would appear, to choose a worthy bearer. It was not hard for him to believe that these dark times were his, but what actually unnerved him was that he himself was, by all accounts, the Marked First.
He could not claim to fully understand what this meant and Magister Djelef was remarkably bad at explaining things to someone without even an ounce of understanding for ancient Tulamid fairytales, but slowly, steadily, a road became clear in front of him. Seven Marks, the Marked Seven, destined to face a great darkness. And he himself at the centre of it.
The voice, this hateful presence in his head, had been entirely silent for the last two days. In his quiet moments, at night when his companions were asleep, Yveshin felt a hint of satisfaction, one that wasn't his own. Just like the triumph he had felt in Drakesfield, when everything around him had been fading. For now, he was content with the voice being quiet, but it was all too obvious that it wasn't gone yet.
It was the third day of their journey when snow began to fall again, lightly at first, but Yveshin only needed to take one look at the huge, grey clouds that covered the entire horizon to know that the worst was yet to come. Such weather was the norm in his homeland and he knew it was even more extreme where Thea came from, close to the ever-frozen coast of the north. Unexpectedly, Naeem was well-suited for such a journey and not for the first time, Yveshin was impressed by the young druid's respect for the nature around him. Sanurius pushed on bravely and though used to the winters of Meadows, he was of Lea Elven blood and his kind preferred the lush plains of the southern Middenrealm.
But it was Magister Djelef whom Yveshin was actually concerned of, for he was not only the oldest of their little group, but also by far the least prepared for this harsh weather. The Tulamid spoke often of his homeland and to the Rime Elf, it sounded like an impossible place. Wide, open plains, like the ones he had passed on his way south, but never covered in snow, where the sun would burn so hot that it became more a curse than a blessing. Few things grew there, few people lived there and water, the one thing Yveshin had never been worried about, was a rare thing there. And that didn't even begin to describe what could be found south of Djelef's homeland. The magister had called it a 'desert', where there was nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. The elf was curious by nature, but he could not even begin to imagine such a place. It was in this moment that Yveshin knew that for all the wonders he had seen on his journey, he had only seen a fraction of what the human world had to offer.
On this evening, Sanurius approached him at the campfire. The half-elf had been quiet for most of the last three days, braving the challenge ahead of him with stoic determination, only breaking his silence to ask for the well-being of his two patients. His treatment, both profane and arcane, had worked wonders and even the injuries Yveshin had suffered at the hands of Ungolf the Rat had almost healed by now. But one look at the healer's face was enough for Yveshin to realize that this was not what he had on his mind tonight.
“I have read through my books”, Sanurius began, as he sat down next to Yveshin. The elf had been surprised at first that his new companion would willingly carry three heavy tomes with him on top of all the other necessities for such a journey, but Sanurius had been adamant about it and whenever they took a break, he could be seen by himself, reading within them. Now, he carried one of those books with him, a thick, old book bound in heavy leather. Yveshin could not read, of course, his people had no use for human writings, but after a few months among them, he recognized the letters at least. This book had been written by a steady hand and the letters were small and close together.
He understood immediately. “You have found something”, he realized and Sanurius gave him a grim nod. “That name you mentioned... the one you claim to have heard from the ghosts... I knew I had heard of it before”, he confirmed. “This one is Mellarch's 'History of the Meadows'. It's outdated, the man died two centuries ago after all, but it's well-written and I've hoped to gain some answers from it” He placed one hand on the heavy tome. “And indeed I did”
“Walmir of Reeveshoff...”, Yveshin mumbled, keeping his voice down to allow Naeem and Djelef some sleep. Sanurius was similarly whispering, but now he sighed audibly. “I couldn't place that name, but it sounded familiar. Luckily, Mellarch mentioned him, fairly early into his book as well”, he revealed. “Walmir of Reeveshoff's story is tied to the Alackskeep and... I don't like it, but it's too much of a coincidence”
“What have you found?”, Yveshin asked. He stared at the tiny letters, trying to make any sense of them, to no avail. “He lived during the days of Aldec Praiofold”, Sanurius revealed, as if this would mean anything to Yveshin. “That was the first of the Priest Emperors” Now, Yveshin remembered. “The men who destroyed the Alackskeep?”, he asked.
Sanurius gave him a nod. “They destroyed so much more than that”, he muttered. “Aldec was the first and the worst of them, but none of them were saints. Ironic for men and women who claimed to be most holy. When the last crown prince of the Middenrealm died as a mere boy, Aldec took the throne for himself, Envoy of Light and Emperor in one. To this day, rumour has it that he had a hand in the boy's death, but I don't know about it. Perhaps he was just an opportunistic brute” His expression was stern now, but his voice remained calm, warm and soothing, making it downright pleasant to listen to him. “He spent his entire reign with beating down anyone who would oppose him, chief among them the Church of Rondra and their famed warrior priests. Back then, Meadows was as devoted to the lioness as it is now and Aldec had to send his armies here. They were led by his closest and most trusted friend, a man called Walmir of Reeveshoff” Something about this didn't sound right and Yveshin narrowed his eyes. “That was how many years ago?”, he asked.
“Roughly seven centuries”, Sanurius clarified. “Walmir of Reeveshoff, he... where Aldec had at least a modicum of restraint, a desire to merely beat down and subjugate his enemies, Walmir's only desire was to see them burn, at least as far as Mellarch is concerned, though I'm not sure how objective that account is. According to him, Walmir once stated that since Aldec is not just an emperor, but also the head of the Church of Praios, all who opposed him were no mere critics or rebels, but heretics and that there was only one fate fitting for heretics. When the Priests of Rondra barred their temple doors, he set fire to the buildings, burning the priests within their sanctuaries. He burned them within their homes and he executed all who stood against him. Mellarch writes that all of this happened during a winter much like this one and that...” His finger moved across the page until he found the sentence he was looking for. “The white fur of the bear was red with blood in these dark days, for the Sun's Butcher knew neither mercy, nor restraint”, he mumbled. “Mellarch's writing style is a bit more poetic than I prefer, but his writings always have a lot of truth to it. There's darker rumours about Walmir of Reeveshoff, but at the very least, he was the most brutal lackey the Priest Emperors ever had at their disposal. I'll spare you the details, but when it comes to them, this means quite a lot”
Walmir of Reeveshoff... the name was enough to send a cold chill down Yveshin's spine, a memory of Rassan's touch, of the ghost's hateful voice. And the ork's final memory... that creature couldn't have been the same Walmir, could it? “Seven centuries ago... few of my kind live that long, much less the humans”
“He cannot be alive”, Sanurius clarified. “Mellarch is clear here, Walmir of Reeveshoff died seven centuries ago. After a bloody campaign through Meadows that left thousands dead, he cornered the Priests of Rondra in one of their mighty border keeps. Back then, it was known as Mythrael's Keep, but in the centuries that followed, that name was gradually forgotten in favour of its newer title”
“The Alackskeep”, Yveshin realized and Sanurius gave him a nod. “Walmir used great siege engines against the mighty fortress. He poisoned their water supply and bombarded them with diseased corpses. The knights of Rondra were valiant in their defence, but they slowly succumbed to famine and disease within their walls. That being said, Aldec Praiofold paid a heavy price for his victory, for Walmir of Reeveshoff himself, who led the final charge once the gates had been breached, was slain within the keep. Mellarch writes little about how the butcher died, but he includes a lot of detail about the man's burial. Apparently, for reasons neither the historian nor I fully understand, Walmir was laid to rest in the depths of the fortress he conquered”
“I saw him”, Yveshin stated. “In Rassan's memory... the shakagra called him Walmir. If he died then... perhaps it could have been necromancy?” He clenched his fists as he remembered the necromancer he met in Drakesfield, the man named Korobar. He had sent the dead against them, but his monstrosities had seemed different from Walmir. Rotten, slow, without even a semblance of intelligence within them. If not for his eyes and those serpent-like teeth, Walmir could have passed as a human.
Sanurius shook his head. “Though Walmir was a cruel man, he was nonetheless a priest of Praios. Their god protects his faithful from magic. I've never heard of a necromancer who managed to raise the corpse of a Praiot”, he replied. “If the man you saw is indeed the very same Walmir of Reeveshoff who once carved a bloody path through the Meadows, then something much darker than common magic has to be at fault”
His words made the elf shiver and they stayed with him long after Sanurius had gone to sleep. Yveshin knew little about magic as the humans practised it, but after what he had seen in Drakesfield, the healer's claim was hard to believe. But if there were truly forces even darker and more terrifying than the ritual Liscom had conducted at work here, then a lot of what he had experienced in the past weeks finally made sense. There had been fear in Luzelin's eyes and though he hid it well, Naeem was similarly on the edge. Neither of them had been completely honest with him.
Fittingly, the snow only became worse over the course of the next day. A heavy wind came from the south, blowing right into their faces as the four men continued to march into that very direction. And there was a cold in the air unlike anything Yveshin had ever experienced in this land. Even his tolerance was tested to its limits, as the wind and the snow quickly chilled him to the bone. Magister Djelef barely managed to move forwards in this weather, clad in three full coats and with a thick scarf covering his entire face safe for the eyes. A small flame was dancing over his shoulders, somehow without setting the fur ablaze, but it was a thin, fickle light and barely managed to warm him, much less his three companions.
Around noon, it became increasingly clear that they wouldn't make it far on this day. It was already growing dark, with snow pouring down from the heavy, grey clouds. Right now, they were walking across a field and even with his heightened senses, Yveshin could not make out how far they'd still have to go to find some shelter. The world around him was white and grey and with each step, he sunk into the ground. His companions stumbled forward, occasionally even staggering, with the weather slowly wearing them down. And not for the first time, Yveshin realized that while this was the norm for his own homeland, a winter such as this one was more than strange for the Meadows.
“Another blizzard?”, Djelef yelled and though he walked just behind Yveshin, eve the elf had trouble picking up his words over the howling of the wind around him. He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “It won't be as bad!”, he replied. “But we must find shelter. We should reach the forest soon, perhaps there will be some respite beneath the trees”
And indeed, he knew the forest had to be near, where he had met the Norbardians, where he had found Ungolf the Rat deep within the Aro Grotto. It would offer them some degree of protection from the weather and perhaps they could even light a fire there. However, he had no idea how far it would still be. It would get dark in a short few hours and Yveshin could only hope that they would reach the forest until then. And yet, there was something else. Not the voice in his head, but a tension that came right from it, something that made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Something was about to happen.
Looking around his companions, he was not the only one to feel that way. Naeem seemed unusually grim, even for his standards, both hands clenched around his staff, as he was dragging himself through knee-high snow. He caught Yveshin's gaze and narrowed his eyes. “Do you feel it too?”, he asked and the elf gave him a nod. “Something is not right. I have tasted the air this morning and studied the clouds. We should have had clear skies”
“I don't know what it is”, Yveshin replied, as he slowed down a tiny bit to allow the druid to catch up to him. “I feel as if something is... watching us” Naeem gave him a grim nod and by now, Sanurius and Djelef had caught up to their conversation as well. “Now that you're mentioning it, the weather got worse awfully fast”, the half-elf agreed. “That's rare for the Meadows, things are usually more reliable around here”
It was in this moment that Yveshin heard sudden growl in his head, as the voice called out for him. “
Above!”, it yelled, its command as sudden as it was panicked and immediately, the elf looked up into the grey clouds. Ice-cold snow poured down upon him, making it hard to see even for the ruby eye and he could hear nothing but the roar of the storm. “
Focus”, the voice hissed and hearing it so clearly was as surprising as it was jarring. “
Ignore the snow, ignore the wind. None of that matters. What do you see? What do you hear?”
Yveshin took a deep breath. Everything about the voice made him uncomfortable, even its mere presence in his head was enough to abhor him. He should ignore it, as he had done successfully for months. And yet, somehow he listened. He focussed. With narrowed eyes, he stared at the sky and just in this moment, he heard something else above the wind, something he wouldn't have heard without focussing on it. A roar, low, deep and far away.
“Something is coming...”, he mumbled. “We have to hurry!” His words were carried far and his companions followed them immediately. Running was not an option in this snow, but even the old Magister Djelef mobilized his last reserved, as he began to drag himself through the snow. As he did, however, he mumbled a few words whom Yveshin did not recognize, as he frantically glanced around. First on the ground, then to the sky and at last, his eyes widened. “By Rastullah...”, he mumbled and his voice was trembling with sudden panic. “There's something huge in the clouds. It's coming closer, I... run, my friends! Run!”
Yveshin looked into the direction Djelef was pointing at, but he could still see nothing. But the roar he had heard, it had to belong to a massive creature. The Tulamid didn't have to warn him again, for he immediately began to run. At the same time, though he could have easily reached the forest on his own in a minute, he slowed down on purpose, allowing his companions to catch up to him. All the while, he kept an eye on the sky, but whatever Djelef had seen within the clouds, whatever he himself had heard, it would not show itself to him.
As they ran, he constantly turned around, glancing at the sky, even allowing Sanurius to run past him. Then, at last, about a dozen feet before he'd reach the forest, he finally gained a glimpse of what Djelef had meant. For just a second, something large and white broke through the light grey clouds. It had to be a good mile away, so not even Yveshin could make out many details, but it seemed to be only part of a much larger creature. Particularly, it seemed like a wing, on its own easily as large as Sanurius' house.
“Dragon!”, he yelled and as if to confirm his suspicion, the creature in the clouds roared again. There were dragons in the mountains of his homeland, most of them wild animals, some able to fly among the peaks, some wingless in their caves below. There were others too, the dakhra'gala, whom his human friends would call Emperor Dragons, the largest and proudest of their kind. They were rare and fickle, but intelligent and powerful beyond measure.
“That cannot be”, Sanurius yelled in return. He was the first to reach the forest, but with a dragon on the hunt somewhere behind them, Yveshin suddenly doubted those snow-laden trees would offer them much protection. If the creature hadn't seen them yet, however, they could possibly hide. “The last dragon in the Meadows has been slain centuries ago!”
And yet, Yveshin knew what he had seen. He had focussed, as the voice had told him and he did so again just as he reached the edge of the forest. Yes, there was something large circling through the clouds, but it was far away from them still and it hadn't gotten any closer. It was hunting for something, but clearly not for them. “If it was a dragon, it's none I've ever seen”, Djelef replied. “All dragons are creatures of magic, so I can see its signature up in the clouds. It's larger, almost like an emperor dragon, but leaner, more akin to a pearl dragon” He frowned. “Save to say, neither species lives here”, Sanurius interjected. “Why would a grown dragon leave its hoard during such a storm?”
By now, a terrible realization grew within Yveshin, as he and his companions crouched down beneath the trees. “I saw its wing...”, he revealed. “It was white” Djelef and Sanurius both looked at him at once. “I've never heard of a white emperor dragon”, Djelef replied, while Sanurius shrugged. “And I don't know much about dragons to begin with”, he admitted. “But you seem concerned. What does its colour have to do with our situation?”
Again, the dragon roared and though the storm had grown worse, it sounded farther away. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but Yveshin started to believe that the creature hadn't spotted them yet. If he was right... especially if he war right, then they'd all be in terrible danger if this beast would catch their scent. “There are dragons in my homeland, the
firkra”, he replied. “They live so far in the north that they are rare even where I'm from”
“
Firkra... the frost wyrms. Almost no human has ever seen one”, Djelef spoke. He sounded unusually excited about this and Sanurius immediately picked up on it. “Does this mean you have a plan, Magister Djelef?”, he asked and the Tulamid gave him an enthusiastic nod. “If the creature approaches, we can try and reason with it. Frost wyrms are higher dragons, after all, they are no mindless monsters”
“My people avoid them where they can”, Yveshin brought up, as he scanned the cloudy sky for any sign of the dragon. “Not all of them can be reasoned with. If it travelled this far to the south, it must either have a very good reason, or it must be desperate. We should keep our distance” Again, the dragon roared in the distance and this time, it seemed to have gotten a bit closer to what it was looking for.
The storm was quickly gaining in intensity as well, with heavy snowflakes clouding Yveshin's sight. Out there on the field, they would have been lost by now, but as long as the dragon would not search for them, they were probably safe beneath the trees. And yet, it was clearly looking for something. He could hear it now, whenever he truly focussed on it, circling over the field somewhere in the distance. They had been walking there just an hour ago. Perhaps it had picked up their scent already, was looking for them right in this moment. Then again, why would it? There was a village to the north and more to the south. What reason had a dragon to come to this place? And if it wasn't looking for them, then whom was it hunting for right now?
“Down! Get down!”, Djelef hissed in this moment. Yveshin trusted him enough to follow his command at once, as he crouched down into the snow, right between the dry bushes that grew beneath the trees. Just a moment later, the dragon's roar could be heard again and despite the heavy snowstorm, Yveshin could see its shape in the clouds. It had gotten close, too close for his comfort. And yet, as it was diving down from the sky, it was clearly not heading for the forest. Instead, it went down straight to the field and as brief as the elf could see it, as quickly was it gone again. He could still hear its roar, however.
“What is it doing?”, he hissed. Next to him, Sanurius was slowly, carefully stepping deeper into the forest, not taking his gaze away from the field. Occasionally, they could get glimpses of the massive creature there, but for the most part, its with scales were blending in with its surroundings. What he could see was as awe-inspiring as it was terrifying. The dragon was the largest creature he had ever seen, easily fifty feet long. It was lean, with a long, thin head and a pair of massive wings. Right now, it was running over the field on all fours, pressing its snout against the snow as if it was looking for something.
He still only caught glimpses and flashes of the dragon in the increasingly heavy snowstorm. Mostly, however, he heard it, even its mighty growls easily cutting through the storm. It had gotten closer now, perhaps only two hundred feet away and even though there was soft, fresh snow beneath it, Yveshin felt the ground trembling with every step the creature took.
“I don't think it's looking for us”, he mumbled and he noticed the relief on Sanurius' face. “This is not how I'd like to go out”, the healer admitted. “Trampled by a feral dragon... but still, what is it doing here?” Before he could continue, Magister Djelef gasped. “Wait, there...”, he interjected. “There is something... someone else! There's someone running away from the dragon”
Just as soon as he said these words, the dragon let out a deafening roar. Through the snowstorm, Yveshin could see it turning around, faster than a creature of its size should have been able to. It lowered its head and for a second, the elf could see it perfectly fine through the snow. Lean and long, possessing grace and an almost fragile beauty. This impression was gone, of course, the moment it opened its massive jaws, revealing rows of teeths within, each as large as a greatsword. It could swallow a horse whole with such a maw. Yes, this was truly one of the
firkra, as beautiful and deadly as a snowstorm. His kind was known for bravery and yet, not even the best hunters of his tribe would dare to get this close to a grown dragon. Even his sister would keep her distance...
“Help me!”, a voice called out just in this moment, high-pitched and panicked, as the dragon began to move. It slid across the frozen ground, towards what Yveshin now realized was a person. “Someone, please!” His eyes widened, as he saw the person, clad in a long, grey cloak, stumbling and then falling to the ground, the dragon close behind. The creature stopped right next to it, letting out a triumphant roar, as Yveshin reached for his bow.
“What are you doing?”, Naeem hissed at once, as he reached for Yveshin's forearm. “Someone needs our help!”, the elf barked. Even now, he could see the concern on the druid's face. “We cannot fight a dragon!”, he brought up. “I don't think it has seen us. We are safe beneath the trees, but this... this is not our fight. We have a much more important fight ahead of us”
“You there!”, the voice now yelled. It clearly belonged to a woman and the fear in her tone was heartbreaking. Apparently, she had spotted them, as she tried to stagger back to her feet. She was less than a hundred feet away now, but the dragon was right behind her. The creature had its mouth open, revealing its teeth in what Yveshin interpreted as a sickening smile. “Please, do something!”
That was it. At once, Yveshin broke free from the druid's grip. “Nothing is more important than saving a life”, he growled, as he pulled out an arrow. To his surprise, it was Sanurius who gave him a nod. “What is the plan?”, he asked. He noticed the elf's surprised gaze and a desperate smirk appeared on his face. “I don't want to die stupidly”, he clarified. “But if even one life can be saved...”
The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the frost wyrm's roar, this time clearly directed at them. At last, the creature had spotted them. Everything within Yveshin was telling him to run. Even the voice, this hateful, callous presence, shouted at him to flee, though it seemed more concerned for whatever tied it to his mind than for anything about him in particular. And yet, he would not listen to them. Turning his back on someone in need was not who he was.
“We'll figure something out...”, he mumbled, realizing fully well that the dragon would not grant them the luxury of coming up with a plan first. “Hit it with all you got, we need to drive it off long enough to help that woman” Though the trees would offer him no protection from the dragon's breath, he stayed between them as he took aim, while next to him, Magister Djelef began to mumble a few words in his strange, melodic tongue.
“Something about this is not right”, Naeem brought up again, but Yveshin had already fired an arrow at the dragon. The creature made no attempt to dodge it, even if its previous speed made it clear that this was at least possible. And yet, with scales as thick as the bright, white plates that adorned the dragon, it had nothing to fear from a mere arrow. The missile pierced through the air, but Yveshin lost track of it as the dragon began to charge at them, completely ignoring even a second and a third shot.
“We need to go, now!”, Naeem yelled, but despite his words, he did not flee, not while Yveshin remained standing. The ground beneath them was shaking violently, as the dragon charged at them on all fours. From the left, Djelef had finished his incantation and as he pointed two fingers at the dragon, a massive strike of lightning fired from them. At the same time, Naeem sent a whirlwind of air and snow against the beast. Immediately, the hairs on Yveshin's arms stood up and the air around them began to crackle with unbound arcane power.
Once again, the dragon seemed unfazed by what the mages were throwing at it. It didn't even have to lift a finger or speak an incantation. The spells, powerful enough to make Yveshin's ears ring as they were unleashed, fizzled and faded before they reached the beast. He had heard the stories about higher dragons, not just of their size, speed and strength, but of their arcane power, exceeding that of any mortal mage. They were the true apex predators of this world.
The dragon stopped its charge, staring right at Yveshin and something about its body language changed, if subtly. In one moment, the creature had been rushing towards them, a mountain of teeth and claws, its wings spread out, the tail cracking through the air like a giant's whip. In the next, it stopped, the fraction of a second before it would reach Yveshin. Everything within the elf was screaming at him to flee and by now, he himself was at the point where he would listen to them. And yet, he could not even move his legs, much less look away from the titan in front of him. He could only stare up in fear.
The dragon was lowering its head now, not breaking eye contact with Yveshin. Up close, the white scales had a certain touch of silver and its eyes were two massive orbs, golden with brazen streaks, beautiful beyond compare and terrifying beyond words. There was intelligence within them, something so regal, powerful and cunning that even now, Yveshin had to suppress the impulse to sink to his knees in reverence. This is how his ancestors had felt, when they fled the god dragon and his wicked daughter. Overwhelming fear just by looking the dragon in its eyes, a feeling that grew only worse as it opened its mouth. Up close, the teeth seemed even larger, just one of them almost the size of Yveshin himself. The dragon's face was unlike anything he had ever seen and yet, he could clearly see an expression on it. The eyes were narrowed, but not in anger or hostility, but in curiosity. And the lips were curled into what could pass as a smile, even if the teeth ruined any illusion of affability.
“We...”, he began and out of the corner of his eyes, he realized that his companions could do nothing but stand there and stare either. It was not magic that held them in place, but a primal fear. Even the bravest of men would cower now. “We need to...” He did not manage to continue, for in this moment, something hit him. It was not a physical sensation, for the dragon did not move a single muscle. Instead, it was a mental push, as if someone was about to crack his head open with a knife. There was no actual pain, it was merely uncomfortable for a moment, just enough for Yveshin to stagger back one step. And then, the dragon began to speak, words originating in its mind, but forming right within the elf's thoughts.
HOW UNEXPECTEDwelcome OF YOUhero/pathetic TO SHOW YOURSELF HEREin this reek/meadows, LITTLEpuny/worthless ELFlone prophet/marked first
The dragon's voice was cutting through his mind right now, the voice echoing through his head, drowning out all independent thought. They were clear and precise, brutal. Behind them though, there was another voice, a softer voice, yet no less precise. This second voice was a mere whisper, following after a few of the deep, roared words that sent him to his knees. It belonged to a woman, undoubtedly, but compared to the bestial roar of the dragon's dominant voice, it was almost unremarkable. And yet, this voice somehow left him with a sick feeling in his stomach. The dragon's roaring words were merely painful, but even now, even in this moment, he could feel that there was something plain wrong about this other voice.
Iqueen/eternal ALWAYS GET WHAT Ichosen/worshipped DEMANDdesire/deserve
Each word was like a massive wave, crashing against him, as the dragon came closer. The breath that came from its massive maw could freeze the air around it and even as it spoke, the words forming in his mind, pressed into his head with violent intent, there was a deep growl that left the creature's throat, a sound so deep that it made his spine tingle.
LET US TRYenjoy A LITTLE GAME UNTIL Ihunter TIRE OF YOUprey
For a second, Yveshin was certain the dragon would devour him right here. He tried to move, but his legs gave in beneath him. He tried to speak, but the words froze in his throat. Just then, he saw something within the frost wyrm's golden eyes. A hint of amusement perhaps, a cruel expression, but one of genuine joy nonetheless. There was no longer any trace of aggression in the creature's body language, its head still lowered, the snout close enough to swallow Yveshin in a heartbeat, but looking at him, it seemed genuinely intrigued.
THE PIECESpawns/knights/rooks/all waiting for the king ARE IN PLACE NOW AND YOUpuppets ARE ALL MINEmistress TO PLAYdevour WITH
The dragon, as Yveshin realized, was not just looking at him. It was staring at the ruby eye beneath the eyepatch and in return, the eye glared at the dragon, with such burning intensity that it almost managed to drown out the cold. There was a fragment of an echo that reached Yveshin's mind, just enough for him to realize that the dragon spoke to him, but at the same time, it held a different conversation entirely, speaking words he could not even hope to understand to a being he could not even hope to comprehend. “
Yes”, the voice within his mind spoke and it was the only word of their conversation he actually understood, the only word not spoken by the dragon. Whatever it could mean, it seemed to be enough for the dragon and the violent pressure on his mind decreased.
Igoddess AM CURIOUSpatient/intrigued WHAT YOUmortal SHALL DO NEXTwe will meet again
With these words, it pulled away from his mind and it was as if a great weight was taken from him. With a gasp, Yveshin broke free of the creature's hold over him, as the dragon, to his surprise, backed off. The ground began to shake again as it stepped back onto the field and with each step it took away from him, the elf felt the brutal reality of what had just happened. A braver man would have remained standing, perhaps even trying to attack again. But Yveshin was no warrior, he was no hero. He was just one elf far from home who had just stared a dragon in the eye.
From up close, he realized that the dragon shouldn't be able to fly. Its wings were massive, but a body this large and heavy, lean as it otherwise was, should not be able to lift itself up into this cold sky. And yet, it only needed to move its wings, pushing itself from the ground with a gust of air enough to knock Yveshin and his companions down into the snow. Above him, the trees creaked and cracked, but none broke, as the dragon soared up into the air. It was in its element here, for as heavy as it seemed on the ground, as gracefully was the turn it made as it was finally up in the sky. Swiftly, it headed to the north and with one last, deafening roar, it was gone in the clouds.
Yveshin was still lying on the ground with wide eyes, as the dragon's voice, both of them, still echoed through his mind. It took more than a few moments for him to realize that he had been holding his breath the entire time and immediately, he gasped for air. “Yveshin!”, Sanurius called out for him, but compared to the dragon's mighty roar, his voice sounded hollow within the elf's ears. The healer appeared in his field of view, leaning down and offering his arm. Yveshin grabbed it, as Sanurius pulled him back to his feet. “Did you just... stare down a dragon?”, Sanurius asked.
“Remarkable”, Djelef gasped, as he approached them from the left. “It spoke to you, did it not?” Yveshin gave him a nod as he let go of Sanurius. With the dragon's hold over him fading, his strength returned. “Did you not hear it?”, he asked and Djelef shook his head. “It spoke to you”, he replied. “None are privy to a dragon's words unless they so desire it” He glanced at the sky, but to Yveshin's relief, the beast would not show itself again. “What... what did it say? Why did it just leave?”
“It...”, Yveshin began, before his gaze fell upon the field. The woman! There amid the snow, she had collapsed where the dragon had left her. Immediately, he began running, out of the questionable safety of the forest and onto the field, as fast as his legs could carry him. “Sanurius, quick!”, he yelled. “She might need our help” He did not turn around to check if the healer was actually following him, but he trusted him enough to just assume it.
The woman was not moving as he approached her and his heart sank as he knelt down next to her. She was lying face first in the snow, a grey cloak hiding her features and Yveshin clenched his fists. “No...”, he gasped. Behind him, the fresh snow scrunched, as Sanurius reached him. “Are we too late?”, Yveshin asked, as he placed one hand on the woman's shoulder.
Immediately, life returned to the body. The woman flinched at his touch, immediately pushing herself away, as she raised her head. Her hood fell down, revealing long, silken strands of silver. A pair of pointy ears could be seen beneath her hair, the first thing Yveshin noticed about her. During his travels, he had noticed that humans in particular had it hard to keep his people apart. For them, elves were all blessed with supernatural beauty, to the point were they all looked the same for an untrained eye.
This woman however... for a moment, she took his breath away. Those strands of silver framed a heart-shaped face with full lips and a finely sculpted nose. It was adorned by the most beautiful pair of eyes he had ever seen. The irises were of a bright golden, with darker specks within, staring up at him, wide and hesitant, yet without fear. Though she wore but a simple, grey dress, thin linen more suitable for the summer, her face had a majesty to it that was beyond compare.
“You... did you...”, she began and her voice was no less pure and clear. “Did you chase her off?” She stared at him and Yveshin did not react right away. Those eyes... he had met elves with golden eyes before, but never like this. They had never been this bright, this clear. “The dragon, I mean”, she added and as he blinked, whatever force had taken him just now was gone. “She left”, he confirmed. He reached down, offering her one arm and the elven woman grabbed it with only a hint of hesitation.
“Then I owe you my life”, she confirmed. “This monster has been chasing me for days. I have been able to hide from her when the skies were clear, but the snowstorm... I was in her element then and she would have killed me if not for you” She did a curtsy in front of him, a simple gesture, yet as impeccable as everything about her. “Thank you, kind stranger”
“I cannot just stand by while someone else is in danger”, Yveshin spoke truthfully. She gave him the most curious expression there, as if she was studying his face, his gaze, his words down to the last detail. “You truly mean it, don't you?”, she then replied. “I did not expect to find such heroism in these lands, especially not from one of my own kind”
Her own kind... he hadn't noticed it right away, but there was something different about her. She was an elf, it was undeniable, but her features were ever so slightly different from the elves he had grown up with. Her cheekbones were just a slight bit sharper, her skin lighter and smoother. “You are not a Rime Elf”, he realized and she gave him a nod. “Nor one of the other groups of elves that dwell in these lands”, she confirmed openly. “My name... is Lysira. Lysira of Liretena and I am of the
fenvar”
“A high elf?”, Sanurius interjected. “That is impossible” And yet, he seemed unconvinced of his own words. The
fenvar, those who came before... of course, Sanurius had no way of knowing this, it was a well-guarded secret of the elven tribes, but not all high elves were dead, not all of them were the ancestors of the modern elves. When their empire was crumbling around them, some chose exile over certain death, living far to the north, their island empire surrounded by otherworldly mists and hidden from the world. His elders had ways of communicating with the
fenvar there, but Yveshin had never much cared for the secrets of his own people. That had been Xeuna's forte, but what little he knew was enough to make him believe her words.
“I am Yveshin Ethimior of the Lightbringer Tribe”, he introduced himself. “This is Sanurius, a half-elf and skilled healer. We travel with two humans” As he glanced back at the forest, he noticed that his companions were approaching them slowly. “Magister Djelef ibn Jassafer who hails from the faraway land of Tulamidiya and Naeem Umer, a druid and a good friend”
“By Sumu...”, Naeem mumbled as he reached them. “This is not an elf as I know them” He looked at her with the same awe that had to be on Yveshin's face, but even then, there was just a hint of distrust still on his face. “My name is Lysira”, the woman introduced herself again. “And I owe you my life. The dragon, she... I could hear her in my mind and she...” Tears welled up in those golden eyes of hers and Yveshin noticed that she was trembling. Her grey dress was made of linen and it looked horribly out of place on her, as well as way too thin for the weather. Following an impulse, he took off his cloak, which he barely needed to begin with and he wrapped it around her.
“Breathe”, he spoke, his tone soft. “It's all good now. We're here, you're safe” With his arms still on her shoulders, she clung to the coat now, taking a step closer towards him. “Thank you for saying this...”, she mumbled. “But I don't know if this is true. I may never be safe again as long as the dragon is out there” Yveshin glanced at the sky and though the snowfall was still heavy, the storm had calmed. “She... just left”, he replied. “She could have killed us, but I got the impression that was not what she was after”
“No, of course not”, Naeem interjected. “That was you, Lady Lysira” Now, the elf-maiden actually flinched, her eyes widened, as she stared at the druid. “Naeem”, Yveshin spoke, not without harshness. His tone was enough for Naeem to sigh. “I mean, the dragon was after you”, he confirmed. “Do you know why? There should be neither high elves nor frost wyrms here in the Meadows and yet, here you are, the former chased by the latter. I have not seen this coming, so forgive my curiosity”
Lysira gave him a nod. “It's alright, mylord druid”, she clarified. “I will answer your questions, but I...” She began to stumble and Yveshin caught her swiftly. For a moment, she was tense, lying in his arms as she tried to regain her footing, but she relaxed quickly. “I'm not feeling very well”, she mumbled. “The dragon has been chasing me for days. I have not slept in a week and haven't eaten in five days”
“We have to make camp either way”, Sanurius brought up. “Perhaps I should have a look at you, mylady. You seem exhausted and you might be injured” Lysira shot him a bright smile and Yveshin noticed another difference. Her teeth, white and spotless, were sharper than his own. All elves had a small pair of fangs, barely longer than the rest of their teeth. Hers, however, were notably different, more akin to a predator's fangs, similar to how the elves of old had to look like, when first they came from light and dream to find themselves in a cold, dangerous world. “This would be lovely”, she admitted. “I don't want to slow you down, but I also want to answer any question you may have. Just... something to eat and a place to rest, that is all I request”
“We can make camp right now”, Sanurius brought up, but Naeem shook his head. “The snowstorm has gotten better now that the dragon is no longer around”, he spoke. “As much as I prefer the wilds of this land to the amenities of civilization, perhaps it would be wise to push on just a little more. There's a village to the east, but it'll be a three-hour march. We could spend the night at the local inn, with a roof over our head and sturdy walls around us”
“But... Naeem, she is exhausted, perhaps injured even!”, Yveshin brought up. He only now noticed that he had still wrapped one arm around Lysira's shoulders. The druid sighed. “Which is precisely why I think it would be better to bring her somewhere safe before we decide what to do next”, he replied. “And with a dragon on the hunt and unspeakable things lurking in the darkness, the wilds are far from a safe place for a woman like her”
Lysira looked up and her golden gaze met Yveshin's. “I don't know if I can march for another three hours”, she admitted. “But... I will try if you decide so. I owe you that much and more” Naeem was looking at him as well now. “You have shown good instincts in the past, my friend”, the druid admitted. “I have made my point clear, but I will not press the matter. You should decide”
[Make camp as soon as possible] [Push on to the next village]
