Lore
Learn more about our the world of Arkai
This is the place to learn more about the fantasy world that our fun center is themed after. Get to know our heroes, the villains, the history and even get the chance to help influence the stories that have not yet been told!
The World of Arkai Compendium
The World of Arkai is first introduced in the book titled Mask of the Assassin – Redeeming the Wolf. This book focuses around one of our older Heroes that is losing himself to “the monster within”. I will be posting more information about this story and the lore of the world as I continue working on our site as well as on the Fun Center & associated store.
If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to contact us.
Time is an interesting concept that is viewed very differently amongst the many races of Arkai. The races of men for example are rather short lived and thus feel the need to accomplish as much as possible in the short time that they are allotted in this life. Elves on the other hand watch many generations of men pass away before they themselves are ready to leave this world. This affects the elven races differently in that some begin to feel carefree and live away from other races where they can simply enjoy the beauties of nature, dance and song. Others take on a feeling of being responsible for watching over the races of men who often seem like children to them. Between them lie the many other races with varying age expectancies. One thing exists however that changes everything and can end one life as quick as the next – War.
Two hundred years ago a group of heroes risked everything to save the World of Arkai from a devastating war that had torn the world apart and ended millions of lives, and from all races. As with most wars, it did not begin with battles. It began with Greed and Lust – a lust for power. The Arch Mage Sidrag had discovered ancient secrets that were meant to be forgotten. Secrets that revealed the true sources of magic in our world. In his lust for power Sidrag upset the balance of magic and created a new race of shapeshifters that he could control. These Mirren multiplied and mixed with the races in secret, taking control of governments and turned the races against one another. Races who had once been close allies were turned against one another as these intelligent infiltrators manipulated the people.
With the balance of magic upset and the world turning to hate and murder, some of the Gods began influencing the lives of some who would become heroes. They were strengthened through trials, pain and experience. They did not begin as heroes, but in the end they revealed the truth and ended the war. Or did they merely postpone it?
There is another interesting aspect of time that I forgot to mention. When you have lived as long as I, you see patterns that continuously repeat themselves as if we are caught in a loop. How is it that we can so quickly forget the past and repeat the same mistakes? Is it possible for us to break out of this loop or are we doomed to continually repeat the mistakes of the past?
-G
It was early spring and most of the snow had melted here in the valleys. The mid-morning sun had risen over Aldania, but a chill breeze brought a reminder that they had not yet escaped winter’s grasp completely.
Inside his Keep, the Lord of Aldania sat behind his overly ornate desk with his long cloak wrapped around him tightly as he cringed at the grating, banging, and metal on metal, head splitting noises from the many soldiers training outside. He covered his ears and shook his head, angry at himself for agreeing to this task of building an army, and for what? He knew that in truth he had allowed himself to be bribed to join forces with a power that had promised him wealth and glory, but he also knew deep inside that he was just being used. Sure, he had an army; one large enough to possibly seize control of the Emerald Palace as this rising power desired, but at what cost? And for what ultimate gain? His greed had emptied his coffers and still he received nothing but promises.
He growled in anger then froze as the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise, and the temperature in the room seemed to grow colder. He glanced around nervously as the room began to appear brighter; not because of an increase of light, but due to the diminishing coverage of shadows as those shadows became living creatures that swarmed to the far corner of the room to form an area of complete and impenetrable darkness. He knew what was coming next, and it both angered and unnerved him simultaneously.
“Dravaan!” he cursed under his breath.
The Shadow Mage stepped slowly out of the eerie darkness with the shadows surrounding him like a living fog. The same impenetrable darkness swirled within the mages hood in order to hide his identity. All that could be seen of the Mage was his black robes that were edged in some kind of runic language that Sir Charles had never seen elsewhere.
“How dare you enter my personal chambers like this!” Charles hissed through his clenched teeth as he stood tall, and some might say wide due to his girth. He had once been a strong fighter and was built with a heavy frame, but he was older now and loved the finer things in life, especially his meals. He rested his palm on the hilt of the fine steel blade that seldom left his side and forced a brave and angry countenance. The evil Mage’s presence always made him uneasy, but for the Mage to break protocol and come uninvited and unannounced sent a chill down his spine.
“Forgive my intrusion Charles.” The uninvited guest offered in his quiet, yet powerful voice. He then bowed just low enough to leave the Noble wondering if there was any sincerity in the motion. “I know that you are not fond of our visits, but the Arch Mage demanded that I come to deliver his message, and I am not foolish enough to disobey His orders.”
Charles had never met the Arch Mage, but the history books painted him as an extremely dangerous foe. Though the history books varied on the fate of Sidrag, none could confirm that he had truly died at the end of the Great War. And now two hundred years later, it appears that he had survived after all. Charles had been promised riches and power to join with the Arch Mage, but the fear of death was what had truly made his decision to be a part of this.
Dravaan watched the man’s fingers opening and closing nervously on the hilt of his sword. “You could draw your weapon, but I would hope that you are not that foolish.” Though spoken quietly, the words carried a dangerously threatening tone.
Charles obediently moved his hand away from his sword as he scowled at the intruder. He had never seen Dravaan’s face and had no idea what the man looked like, but was grateful for that fact as he felt he might freeze solid under the gaze of those dangerous eyes.
The evil Mage walked silently across the room toward the Noble’s oversized, gaudy desk. His black robes moved so imperceptibly as to give the impression that he hadn’t walked at all, but simply floated over. He stood before Charles with a wispy black cloud of shadow surrounding him and folded his arms in front of his chest, “Sidrag sent me to learn if your forces are ready to move.”
“Ready?” Charles asked incredulously as he stood and walked angrily out onto his balcony where he pointed down at the numerous soldiers training in the courtyard. “They have been ready for weeks! And at this rate my coffers and supplies will soon be empty!”
Dravaan looked upon the Noble with disgust through his unseen eyes. The pompous noble was dressed in his typical, and expensive, royal red and gold colors. He had the arrogance of a wealthy man who had been handed his noble title as a birthright. His hair was a mess, and dark circles had formed beneath his eyes, giving the appearance that he had aged a few years since their last meeting. In a way Dravaan almost felt sorry for the man; almost. “The Arch Mage is aware of the expenses of war, and has sent provisions and ‘gifts’ to ensure you WILL be ready when called upon.”
Charles returned a doubtful but curious expression as he returned to his seat behind the large desk.
Dravaan retrieved a large velvety bag from some unseen pocket within the folds of his robe and placed it gently on the desk, pausing for a moment before opening it to reveal its contents. “The Arch Mage insisted that I deliver this as a token of his appreciation”. He then nearly laughed out loud as he watched the noble’s greedy eyes open wide with lust as he reached for the blood-red ruby that had just emerged from the bag.
Charles grabbed the fist sized gem and walked over to the balcony where he could inspect it more closely in the sunlight. “Never in my life have I seen such an exquisite gem.” he whispered aloud, more to himself than to the Mage.
Dravaan pointed toward the courtyard below. “He also sent food, supplies, and a few battle-hardened mercenaries to help train your so-called soldiers.” He did not bother to conceal his arrogance as he mocked the collection of soldiers in the courtyard knowing that many of them had never seen an actual battle.
Charles clenched his jaw at the insult but turned his attention to the courtyard as he absentmindedly rolled the large gem around in his hands. Guards had just opened the gate to allow entry to a horse drawn cart that was loaded with food and supplies as Dravaan had described. Charles felt as if a huge weight had been taken off of his shoulders and he sighed with relief. He turned back to the Mage who said nothing, but pointed again toward the courtyard with a ghostly grey hand.
A small band of mercenaries were now following the carts inside, causing a stir among the soldiers. Unlike the men training below, the mercenaries were wearing armor that had seen many battles, and the men sported numerous scars that spoke volumes to their experience. One of them stood head and shoulders over everyone in the courtyard. The half-ogre looked up at the balcony and saw the Castles lord looking down at the courtyard. He smiled arrogantly and retrieved a huge double bladed axe from off of his back, which he began swinging around with ease as the muscles in his massive arms rippled. A wicked grin then crossed the noble’s lips as he considered having men of this caliber under his command.
Charles tossed the ruby up gently and caught it as he walked back to his desk and seated himself with a new found confidence. He lay the gem gently on the velvety bag and looked toward Dravaan. “It appears that my anger may have been misplaced.”
“Misplaced, but expected” a sensual voice whispered from directly behind the noble, causing him to inhale nervously as his eyes widened. “You have fulfilled your duties here Dravaan, now be on your way.” the female voice commanded.
Charles swallowed hard as the Mage’s posture stiffened before him revealing that even the Mage had been unaware of the woman’s presence. The elf moved her fingers through the noble’s hair and then gently down the side of his neck, causing his heart to race as if he were a cornered rabbit. He could not begin to fathom how she had entered the room unnoticed, but then again, that was a talent she was known for.
The beautiful ebony haired assassin continued to toy with him as she walked around the desk seductively to face him. He stared at her unblinkingly as she placed her hands on his desk and leaned forward to tease him with her enticing lips, shapely form, and hypnotic ice blue eyes. As she did, Charles fought the urge to let his eyes wander; a fight he quickly lost. He looked her up and down from head to toe and his mouth went dry as he took inventory of the daggers, darts and small pouches (that undoubtedly contained poisons) that were strapped strategically to her shapely frame. “Auryana.” he whispered the assassin’s name aloud and looked nervously back into her eyes.
“The Arch Mage wants to meet you” she whispered with a smile. She was well aware of how her beauty affected men, and was an expert at using it to her advantage. Her eyes glistened like jewels as she slowly retrieved a small map from inside her bodice and laid it in front of the Noble who had watched the entire action lustfully. She waved her hand slowly in front of his eyes to draw his attention and then led his face down to the map. “The meeting will take place here,” she pointed out a small x on the map. “and I have been ordered to stay here and protect you until then.”
Dravaan’s unspoken voice broke into Charle’s thoughts. Do not lust after what you cannot have Charles. Any attempt to bed her will not end well.
Auryana smiled knowingly as she watched Charles’ eyes drift past her toward the Mage. “I believe you were dismissed Dravaan.”, she commanded the Mage in a smooth but chilling tone that sent chills running down Charle’s spine.
Dravaan bowed respectfully and retreated into the shadows.
Charles watched the powerful Mage as he obeyed the commands of this woman. The power she held over him was both terrifying and intoxicating. He watched until the Mage had vanished and the shadows had returned to their original locations, then turned his eyes back to the mysterious and seductive elf standing before him. As he looked into her eyes, he wondered if the Mage’s words had been a warning, or simply a jealous threat.
Eric Fletcher leaned back and rested against the trunk of a large tree and glanced up nervously at the endless sea of stars shimmering above. He had once found solace in those stars, but now felt as though the Gods were looking down at him disapprovingly.
The campfire drew his attention as it began to crackle and pop excitedly. The Ranger closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He opened them again as he exhaled slowly to calm his nerves, then gazed reflectively into the hypnotic flames as they danced inside the protective stone circle, reminding him of a night long ago. A smile brightened the weary Ranger’s face momentarily as a beautiful young elf maiden danced for him, her eyes twinkling like emeralds and her long silky hair swaying gracefully with each delicate movement. She smiled lovingly as she blew him a kiss before fading away into memory. Eric lowered his head and wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall.
A faint blue glow began to emanate from a small blue stone that had been secured to his left bracer, alerting him that he was no longer alone. Eric quickly wiped the remaining moisture from his eyes and began searching the darkness nervously as he drew his sword, cursing his human eyes that could not see into the darkness beyond the reach of his small fire. He was expecting a guest, but one could never be too cautious.
A deep menacing growl rumbled out of the darkness as an enormous black dire wolf padded slowly up to the edge of the camp. The oversized wolf observed the Ranger with cold eyes as he sniffed the air to make sure that they were alone.
Eric sheathed his weapon and stepped forward toward the large animal. “Thank you for coming, my old friend.”
The wolf’s lips curled up to reveal his huge dagger like teeth, causing Eric to retreat a step nervously.
“I need your help.” Eric pleaded nervously as he carefully watched the enormous wolf’s movements.
The wolf shook his large head in annoyance then stood up on his hind legs. The dark magic within him forced his muscles, tendons and bone to shift and reshape themselves until he stood before the Ranger in the form of the Legendary Assassin known across Mahdecra as the Ghost Wolf. He rolled his large canine head from side to side and stretched out his muscular arms as black leather armor and an assortment of weapons magically appeared. The Assassin stood over eight feet tall with a broad chest and muscular arms, but the rest of his features more closely resembled the wolf he had been a moment before. He flicked his long bushy tail and looked down menacingly. “What do you want, Ranger?”
Fear and sadness found their way onto the Ranger’s face as he recognized the truth that stood before him. The Assassin was no longer the friend he had known for so long, but was well on his way to becoming the monster that he believed he was. Anger and blood lust was all that filled those large Canine eyes now. The assassin had once taken pride in his unique leather armor but now it was worn and riddled with numerous cuts, revealing the rare metallic scales hidden beneath the outer surface – a secret his friend had once guarded. Eric swallowed to wet his fast drying throat then addressed the wolfish assassin. “Today is my daughter’s eighteenth birthday, you know what significance that could have.”
The Assassin glared at the Ranger and growled. “This is why you summoned me here? Because you are afraid to face your own daughter?! You disappoint me Eric. You have become weak!”
Eric lowered his head in shame at the deserved insult. “Yes, I suppose you are right. I have feared this day for many years, and now that it has come…”
The Assassin growled “I have been tracking prey and risk losing him to answer your call. Tell me you have disturbed my hunt for more than this!”
Eric swallowed hard again then looked up into the eyes of the Assassin. “I also received a report that Sir Charles of Aldania has been consulting with what may be a Shadow Mage.” he paused as he searched the Assassin’s eyes for the curiosity he hoped he would find, then continued “I am going to the borders of Aldania to investigate. I would like you to travel with me, like old times.”
The Assassin tipped his head curiously and his eyes narrowed. “A Shadow Mage? Who told you this?”
“A young Aldanian soldier.” Eric responded with a hint of hope in his voice. “He sought me out with claims that his lord has been meeting secretly with a black robed mage that disappears into the shadows. He claims lord Alden and this Mage are building an army and plan to attack the emerald palace soon. He also claimed that the Noble was planning to attend a meeting along the North Western borders of his province with someone they referred to as the Arch Mage. The meeting is to happen near Dragon’s Peak in two days time. This whole thing smells of Mirren, and you know more about them than any of us.”
“And you trust this young man?”
“I have no reason not to. After our first meeting, I sent him back with plans to meet with him a few days later near the borders of the province. I did find him there, or at least I found birds feasting on what was left of his corpse.”
“You would be a fool to investigate further by yourself.” the Assassin warned. “The enemy will be expecting you.” The Assassin then turned to leave, hesitating long enough to glance back one last time. “I will not be joining you.” he stated firmly in his gruff voice. “I also know you well enough to expect you will go with or without me. If you do discover a Shadow Mage, DO NOT engage him alone. You would not survive that encounter.”
Eric and the assassin locked eyes for a moment and the ranger nodded. He then watched as his large friend turned away and leapt forward, transforming back into the Dire Wolf before his paws touched the ground. The Assassin vanished into the darkness of the forest as silently as he had come. Eric breathed a heavy sigh as he watched the glow diminish from his magical gem. He looked into the fire again and reflected on the days when he and Verndari had given their friend Andrew the nickname of “Wolf”. How could they have known then that it would become so much more than just a name?
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The Dire Wolf moved like lightning as his long canine legs propelled him hastily through the forest. The meeting with the Ranger had cost him precious time and he was determined to catch up with his prey; a Changeling that had been traveling south toward Crescent Bay in the guise of a decorated soldier. The meeting however, had stirred memories that he had thought forgotten, memories of a time when he and the Ranger had been friends. He growled angrily as the emotions of the Wolf within tried to push the human memories aside. The large wolf slowed to a stop however as he considered what the Ranger would soon be facing. He turned and glanced back at the distant campfire then lied down to wait for Eric to start his journey. After all, the opportunity to kill a Mirren, especially a Shadow Mage, was a rare opportunity he could not pass up.
The first hint of sunrise was breaking on the horizon as Eric slowed his horse’s pace. He quickly tied a leather strap over the gemstone to hide its intense blue glow. He abandoned his horse and crept silently across the clearing toward the voices his keen ears had overheard. The closer he came, the more he wished his friend had agreed to join him.
He and ‘Wolf’ had grown up together as best friends, both being sons of men who were counted among the ‘King’s Rangers’; an elite squad of fighters and spies who watched over the land of Mahdecra for the King. The two friends had sworn an oath together as youth to join the King’s Rangers themselves when they were of age, but neither of them could have predicted the evil that would befall them in the years that followed.
As he drew near to the voices, Eric cupped his hand over his bracer to shield the glow as he viewed the magical gemstone again. The gem had been enchanted to glow when near the dark magic that ran through the blood of Mirren and their offspring. It had been given to him as a gift by an old friend to be used as a form of protection, but he had been using it for years to locate and kill the evil creatures. But in all those years, he had never seen it glow as brightly as it did now. He quickly replaced the leather strap, and prayed to the God Mikael for protection.
Eric crawled forward silently and found himself at the top of a rocky overlook. The area directly below him was currently being used as a camp by two mercenaries, both dressed in quality leather armor. Eric found it unlikely that either of the men could be the source of the gems’ excessive brilliance though, so he continued searching in silence.
A rhythmic pounding of hooves began to echo against the rocky terrain a short distance away to the East, catching the attention of both men who turned in unison to look across the road. Eric followed their gaze and searched among the trees until a black robed mage seemingly materialized out of the shadows near the trees, nearly causing Eric’s heart to skip a beat.
The eerie mage walked away from the cover of the trees to stand in the middle of the road. As he did, Eric watched in awe as shadow followed the mage, keeping the man’s features completely hidden in shadow even though he was standing in the open. The mage signaled the mercenaries who quickly hid themselves within the trees and shrubbery along the roads edge.
Eric had met Mages during his travels, including the one who had given him the blue gem, but never had he witnessed anything like the man standing in the road below. His stomach began to crawl as he remembered the stories of the evil Arch Mage who had been responsible for the Great War. The evil man had been the first and only known Shadow Mage; one who wielded a dark magic that could manipulate shadow. It was rumored that he had taught this dark magic only to a small group of the Mirren.
Eric’s thoughts were interrupted as two soldiers wearing the gaudy red and gold colors of the Aldanian Elite Guard approached on horseback. “Dravaan.” one spat as he looked down at the mage without any attempt to hide his distaste for the Mage.
Eric recognized the soldiers as the personal guard of Lord Alden himself. He had met both men during visits to Aldania in the past. He continued to watch as the guards dismounted and stood before the Mage as they awaited their lord’s imminent arrival. The senior guard kept looking around curiously as if searching for someone, and the fact that both guards kept fingering the hilts of their swords was not lost on the observant Ranger. The men were visibly nervous to be in the presence of the Mage.
The gold trimmed, royal red carriage came into view a moment later. As it came to a stop, the mage raised a hand toward the guards and spoke in a language Eric did not recognize. The guards began to pull their swords, but just as quickly loosened their grips and began looking around as if they had no idea where they were, or what they were doing. The carriage driver continued to sit on his seat looking just as confused, and the voice of the arrogant Aldanian lord kept demanding to know why his door was still closed.
Lord Alden finally thrust the carriage door open himself and climbed out. “What is wrong with you?” he yelled at the driver, who looked back at him as if he were a total stranger.
Dravaan stepped forward past the two confused guards, dipping his head to the Aldanian lord. “There is nothing wrong with your men Charles, they will return to their normal pitiful selves in a short time. Sidrag instructed me to ensure that this would be a private meeting.”
Eric’s heart rate increased dramatically as his eyes went wide with shock. “Sidrag?” he heard himself gasp. He rolled over onto his back as he contemplated the weight of that name. A Shadow Mage is bad enough, but Sidrag himself? That can’t be possible. The evil Arch Mage had died two hundred years earlier at the end of the Great War, and even if he had somehow survived he would have died of old age long ago.
Charles glared at the Mage and his eyes narrowed as he fought to regain his composure, but the observant mage destroyed that attempt with a single comment when he noticed a fine red line across the Noble’s throat. “I see my warning about the elf fell on deaf ears.”
The humiliated lord spat on the ground angrily. “You placed that Venomous snake in my home knowing full well what would happen! What man could resist her when she toys with you the way she does?!” he spat on the ground again before continuing. “And she said that this little line across my throat is for you! So this,” he lifted his chin to show the daggers mark more clearly, “THIS is YOUR doing!”
“Any humiliation you suffered at her hands is of your own doing” The mage chuckled knowingly.
“Humiliation?” the Noble’s voice took on a threatening tone as he spat yet again.
“Yes, but your intimacy with the Assassin is not why you are here.” Dravaan stated flatly.
Charles clenched his teeth as he bottled up his anger and began looking around. “Where is this master of yours? I am here to speak with HIM, not YOU.”
“The Arch Mage is extremely busy. He wanted to meet you, but decided to send me to oversee the final details myself.”
Charles grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled the blade slowly out of the scabbard, letting the hissing sound of the blade scraping against the metal sheath speak his thoughts aloud.
“Do not make the mistake of thinking you can kill me.” Dravaan mocked.
Charles leapt forward without a second thought and thrust his sword into the Shadow Mage’s chest with a look of satisfaction. His smug expression quickly turned to fear however, when his sword passed harmlessly through a patch of swirling black fog.
Dravaan re-appeared a short distance away with the words of a spell already on his lips, and Charles eyes went wide in terror as every muscle in his body suddenly contracted as if he had been struck by lightning. He fought to overcome the pain but found himself completely paralyzed by the effects of the spell.
Dravaan stepped forward and casually removed the beautiful steel sword from the incapacitated noble’s outstretched hand. “Sidrag had been pleased with your earlier efforts, but he has become tired of your constant whining and your carelessness, so he decided to replace you.” The shadowy fog then dissipated, leaving the mage in clear view for the first time since the two had met.
Charles fought to move, to even speak, but could do nothing but watch as the Mage slid his hood back off his head, revealing a hairless and nearly featureless face with dark and light blotchy skin.
The creature’s thin mouth twisted up into a disturbing grin. “I must thank you for the opportunity you have granted me though. You see, in a way, you have placed ME in control of YOUR forces.”
Eric’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the creature, and he leapt to his feet with his bow raised. Memories of his beautiful wife flooded his thoughts, ending with the memory of discovering that she had been murdered and replaced by the offspring of one of these monsters. He had been forced to kill the changeling while it still looked like his wife, and that memory haunted him to this day. But this was no changeling. The hairless, faceless monster below was an actual Mirren, not the offspring of the creatures that he had hunted for so long. He knocked an arrow and with all his anger released it at the monster. The arrow bounced away harmlessly as it struck an invisible barrier that surrounded the evil Spell Caster. The recent memory of his friend warning him NOT to face a Shadow Mage alone brought him quickly back to his senses.
Dravaan turned calmly to look directly at his attacker. “Kill the Ranger.”
The two mercenaries rushed out of the trees and charged the hill, quickly finding a way up as the mage cast a spell to enhance their speed.
Eric dropped his bow and ran knowing that this was a fight he could not win, he sprinted back through the trees and into the clearing as fast as his legs could carry him, but the mercenaries were gaining on him with the magically enhanced speed the mage had provided. Eric reached up with one hand and grabbed a medallion that was hanging around his neck and called out, “Verndari, help!”
A moment later as he sprinted across the clearing, a small bright light pierced the morning air ahead of him, quickly spreading to form a doorway which then burst open. A man dressed in a white robe with gold trim stepped out of the light.
The mercenaries came on fast, determined not to fail their Master, but the portal closed in a blinding flash of light, leaving them temporarily blinded and dazed. As their vision cleared they looked up in horror as they were met with the deep growl of a tall wolfish figure.
In the shadows at the edge of the forest, a second black robed mage quietly spoke the words of a spell then smiled in satisfaction as the two mercenaries realized that their magically enhanced speed was gone. Without a sound, the Mage stepped back into the shadows and vanished.
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Charles stood paralyzed, unable to avert his gaze from the creature that held him captive. The monster was staring into his eyes and holding the sides of his head. He felt a dark energy flow from the creature into him and then out again. Nausea overwhelmed him as he watched in horror as the creature began to change. Hair sprouted from its head, facial features sprouted and formed until he found himself staring into his own eyes. He tried to scream, tried to free himself, but he watched as the monster picked up his sword and smiled at him for the last time.
Dravaan breathed in deeply as he began searching through the new memories that he had acquired by taking the form and identity of the Noble. He licked his lips in pleasure and anticipation as he watched the beautiful Auryana climb on top of him seductively. His heartbeat raced as she leaned forward and nibbled gently on his ear. Then she whispered “I know you want me Dravaan, but this is something you will never have.” she then disappeared into a shadowy fog.
The new Sir Charles, Lord of Aldania stood and cursed at the elf. He dressed himself in the dead man’s clothes as he fought the anger and humiliation the elf had just thrust upon him by leaving this memory for him to find in the Noble’s memories. Suddenly this assignment felt more like a punishment than a privilege.
Shadows at the edge of the forest began to stir as a second figure dressed in black robes materialized unexpectedly at the edge of the forest. The new ‘Sir Charles’ cursed under his breath as he turned to address his superior with a forced bow. “It is done, Master Neilan.”
“Yes.” Neilan breathed slowly and disapprovingly. “You are now a Noble, but it is not DONE, yet.”
Dravaan seethed inside at Neilan’s insinuation. He looked down at his new appearance and smiled in pride and satisfaction, “The exchange is complete, and I am now the Ruler of Aldania with an Army at my call. So tell me ‘Master’ Neillan, how can you claim that it is NOT done?”
“Remember your place.” Neillan threatened with a dangerous tone. “In your arrogance, you have made a mess that I will now have to clean up.” he paused to savor the angry, but questioning expression on Dravaan’s new face before continuing with a calm, matter of fact tone “You were discovered by one of the King’s Rangers who witnessed your work first hand, and then escaped. And your mercenaries are, or should I say WERE, witnesses to the arrival of the infamous Ghost Wolf. And as you may now be realizing, the Assassin will be here for you momentarily. So gather your men and be on your way!”
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Wolf could smell the stench of Mirren as he came over the ridge. His keen ears picked up the sound of horses and a carriage being driven away in a hurry, but a black robed mage surrounded by shadow stood alone in the road before him. Wolf raised his powerful bow then growled angrily as the shadows that had been surrounding the mage spread out rapidly to form multiple copies of the Mage.
The copies began rapidly weaving around one another in an effort to confuse the Assassin as they retreated slowly in unison toward the forest. Wolf sniffed the air then drew back on the string of his powerful bow, releasing his arrow which streaked through the air toward the Mage. The copies vanished, leaving the Mage standing alone before him.
“Impressive!” Neilan congratulated Wolf respectfully as he reached up and grasped the arrow that hovered in the air just in front of his heart. “But every moment you waste fighting me, is a moment closer to the Ranger’s imminent death. Yes, I know WHO he is and more importantly, I know where he lives.” Neilan then stepped backward into the shadows of the forest and vanished.
Ahna Fletcher knelt beside the serene pool that rested at the top of the falls. She sheathed a long dagger and admired her short hair in the reflection looking back at her. It was rare for elves to cut their beautiful, silky hair so short, but Ahna smiled in satisfaction. She was only half elf after all.
She retrieved her bow and slung it across her muscular shoulders and looked into the clear pool one last time. She couldn’t help but wonder how much of her mother was looking back at her in the reflection. She had her mother’s almond shaped eyes and pointy ears; though her ears were not as long as her mother’s would have been. She also knew that she did not share the lithe form of an elf either. Her muscular physique was a gift from her human father and a life of daily physical training. She turned away from the falls and sprinted down the path toward her cabin with a speed and agility that she decided with an inward laugh, must come from her mother.
That night she lay in bed looking up at the ceiling for hours. She listened as the animals that foraged during the day settled in for the night, while the nocturnal animals began their nightly routine. These were sounds that comforted the young ranger and confirmed that all was well in the forest. Still, she resisted sleep due to the strange nightmares she had been having the past few nights. She had just spent her eighteenth birthday alone, and that had coincided with her nightmares. She wanted to discuss this with her father, but he was out on another mission for the King and had not returned yet. She knew that it could be days or even weeks before she saw him again. That was the nature of his life as a King’s Ranger and she accepted it for what it was. She closed her eyes and continued listening to the calming sounds of the forest.
“It is time to learn who you really are.” an eerie voice called out to her.
Ahna leapt to her feet and reached for her daggers but discovered that she was no longer in her cabin, and her weapons were nowhere to be found. She scanned the area and found herself standing in a small clearing somewhere deep within the forest.
“I will send for you soon, my child’s child.” The voice echoed all around her making it impossible to pinpoint the direction of the speaker.
Ahna blinked her eyes and sat up straight. She was in her bed again, but her heart was racing.
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Eric emerged from the portal to land unceremoniously on the marble flooring of Verndari’s office in the Temple of Mikael. He looked up at his friend who stood patiently beside him. “Thank
You.”
Verndari offered his hand with a smile. “You’re most welcome, but next time you should really let me know in advance that you may need my services.” The High Cleric took a seat at his desk and looked at his friend questioningly. “So what did you get yourself into this time?”
Eric shared the disturbing events with his friend as he rested his aching legs and caught his breath.
The white haired man stroked his long white beard thoughtfully, “If the Mirren are building an army, and a Shadow Mage is involved, then we may have dangerously underestimated the situation.”
“Agreed. And it may even be worse still. I overheard the mage claiming that Sidrag is his master.”
“Sidrag? That can’t be possible. He was killed over two hundred years ago.”
“Supposedly.” Eric corrected. “That was my first thought too, but they say his body was never actually found.”
“Are you thinking that he may have found a way to extend his life?”
“He created the Mirren. Knowing that, is it so hard to believe he may have found a way to extend his own life?”
Verndari sat up straight with a concerned expression, “Whether he is working for Sidrag or not, the Shadow Mage is now aware of you and knows that you are aware of their plan. I doubt he will let you escape with that knowledge so easily. You won’t have to worry about seeing those two mercenaries again though.” he said with a wink.
“What do you know?”
“Wolf arrived to greet them just as I closed the portal.”
Eric chuckled as he pictured the looks the mercenaries must have sported on their faces when the portal vanished and they found themselves face to face with the Assassin. “I took a chance and called Andrew to try to get him to accompany me to Aldania, though I was under the impression that he had refused.”
Eric’s expression darkened as he recalled their meeting. “It had been awhile since I had last seen him, and what I saw has me concerned. He seemed more like the animal than the man. Almost as if he did not recognize me. I fear we are losing him.”
The blood suddenly drained from Eric’s face. “Do you have the strength left to open another portal? Ahna is alone at the cabin!”
Verndari nodded. “I have the strength left to get you there, but I fear I won’t be able to hold the portal open for long. You know this spell is very taxing on my strength.”
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Neilan walked down the dimly lit cavern tunnel to the Arch Mage’s sanctuary. The path was filled with numerous magical traps, but they were designed to prevent unwanted intruders, not the leadership working for the Arch Mage himself. As he approached his destination, the rune-covered door to the Arch Mage’s chamber opened unexpectedly, and a young half-elf with a marbled complexion exited the chamber with a scowl. The young man’s black and white streaked hair fell forward over his shoulders as he nodded to Neilan in respect.
“Wait for me.” Neilan commanded in a whisper.
Tyvaan nodded as he continued down the corridor.
As the door closed behind him, Neilan found the Arch Mage pacing and muttering something under his breath. Neilan bowed to show his respect before speaking. “Your son appears more agitated than normal today.”
“Do not call him my son! Tyvaan is a failed experiment, nothing more.”
“He is a quick study, and desires only to please you.” Neilan countered.
The Arch Mage returned a dangerous glare. “I hope you are here for a better reason than to talk about Tyvaan!”
“Of course, my apologies.” He smiled knowingly. “Draavan has assumed his new role.”
“Excellent.”
“He was sloppy with the execution however.” he continued in a tone that revealed his lack of respect for Dravaan. “One of the King’s Rangers witnessed the exchange and managed to escape. The Ghost Wolf also made an appearance, but fortunately for Dravaan I arrived in time to draw the Assassin away from him, and I am now working on the loose end.”
The Arch Mage turned an angry eye toward Neilan, “Which Ranger?”
“I have the feeling you already know.” Neilan smiled respectfully.
The aged Arch Mage sneered as he walked over to a table covered with parchments and sat down. “It is time to rid ourselves of Eric once and for all, and claim from him what is mine. Go take care of this loose end so that he cannot interfere again.”
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Neilan smiled (as much as a Mirren can) as he approached the cocky but troubled youth waiting for him in the corridor. Tyvaan was dressed in his usual attire; black leather trousers and a sleevless white button up shirt. He kept his favorite weapon on display at his side. The longsword was a gift from Neilan, and was one of a kind. The blade was magically enhanced, making it far stronger and sharper than a normal blade.
Neilan approached the youth and stood before him, “The Arch Mage is a difficult one for anyone to please.”
“Yes, but he despises me.”
“He is just too preoccupied to see your value.”
“No, he hates me because I’m broken. He never speaks to me without reminding me that I am the only Changeling that can’t adapt skin pigment. I am the ONLY Changeling that can’t infiltrate!”
The Mage laughed. “Infiltration is not our only talent my young friend, especially not yours.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are one of the finest swordsmen I have known in my many years. And when you engage in a fight, your ‘curse’ as you call it, becomes your weapon as it strikes fear into your opponent. Besides, not every task requires infiltration. Speaking of which, there is a delicate matter I need addressed and I believe that you are the best man for the job.”
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Ahna grabbed her daggers and leapt to her feet at the sound of someone moving outside. She blinked her eyes to adjust to the low light and waited. A rhythmic tapping on the door let her know that it was her father. He opened the door a second after finishing the tapping and rushed in to kiss her on the forehead. “Ahna.” He breathed a sigh of relief, but she could see the worried look on his face. Before she could speak, he stepped over to the table and began writing frantically on a parchment. “I need you to take this letter to Lord Marwick. I would explain, but there is no time. Take your horse and go! There is NO time to saddle him, just put on his reins and go!
Hearing the urgency in her father’s voice, she nodded.
The sound of approaching horsemen brought a dark look to Eric’s face as he followed her outside to the horse stall. As soon as she was astride the horse he slapped its hind quarters. “GO!”
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Ahna’s horse approached the bridge a minute later and reared up as they charged into the clearing that surrounded the bridge. A large black and white raven had flown down onto the bridge and was blocking her path. “It’s just a stupid bird!” She yelled at her horse and urged him on with a kick, but the horse refused to go near the unusual bird.
Ahna retrieved her bow and fired a warning shot near the strange bird to scare it away.
“Ahhnnna” it cawed.
“Did you just say my name?” she asked incredulously.
“Yeess”
“What do you want?”
The bird spread its wings and leapt into the air. “Keeep you saaafe. Keeep Ahhna saafe.”
“Safe from what?”
The bird circled for a moment then flew away leaving Ahna even more confused. She looked at her horse, then back toward the cabin. Her father had asked her to deliver the letter to the King and she would not let him down. She knew that whatever was going on, he must be buying her precious time and she would not waste that gift.
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Five men on horseback galloped into the clearing. Two of the men appeared to be Aldanian soldiers, but the others were clearly mercenaries. The Ranger met them with a barrage of arrows, killing two of the mercenaries before they were aware of his presence. The rest quickly dismounted and rushed Eric with their swords drawn.
Eric dropped his bow and retrieved a pair of short swords that had been sheathed across his back. The first soldier charged in and Eric side-stepped to the right and expertly guided the man’s sword away as he swept his leg out from under him. The soldier landed hard on his back with a thud. Eric kicked the man hard in the face, breaking his nose and rendering him unconscious.
The mercenary came in high, but Eric dropped beneath the arc of the blade and used his own sword to guide the blade past, quickly glancing over to locate the remaining soldier who he could hear approaching. Eric stood quickly, propelling himself into the mercenary, striking him with a jaw-breaking blow with his elbow.
As the mercenary fell, Eric brought his swords up in a defensive stance as he faced the remaining soldier. “Leave now if you want to live!” he screamed at the man.
The soldier shook his head “I die if you live, and I don’t plan on dying by HIS hand.”
“Then you will have to die by mine.” Eric countered as he charged in with his swords flying. The soldier immediately fell back into a defensive stance trying to avoid the Ranger’s fast moving blades. The ring of metal on metal sounded as their blades met, but the soldier was no match for the experienced Ranger. Eric drew the soldier’s sword low then spun in a full circle, bringing his first blade up as a shield while he plunged the second blade through an opening in the side of the soldier’s armor. The man dropped to his knees and began coughing up blood. As the soldier fell to the ground, Eric ran to the horses, leaping atop one so that he could catch up with his daughter. As he did, a large black and white raven dove out of the sky, transforming into a rather odd looking elf as he fell out of the sky and slammed into Eric, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
Eric quickly regained his feet and rushed at the unusually colored Changeling. He was met with a long sword with a faint green glow, informing Eric that the weapon had been magically enhanced. The marble faced half-elf leaped back gracefully with a cocky smile. Eric charged in with a barrage of attacks, coming in fast and working the young elf’s weapons high and low, spinning to the sides and searching for an opening, but the young man was well trained and kept pace with the seasoned Ranger, exchanging like blows, switching between offensive and defensive postures as they circled one another.
Tyvaan could tell that he needed to end this quickly if he wanted to survive. The Ranger was no amateur fighter and was matching him move for move. He went on the defensive as their swords continued to dance. Then he feigned slipping, and let his sword arm fall wide to draw the Ranger’s attention while he threw a hidden dagger with his other.
Eric fell back in pain as the dagger pierced his bicep. He cursed himself for falling for the well executed trick. He dropped his sword and grit his teeth as he pulled the dagger out of his arm. The dangerous changeling had sprung back up onto his feet the instant he had thrown the dagger, and now stood there without taking advantage of his position.
“Pick up your weapon. I prefer not to kill my opponents when they are unarmed.” Tyvaan calmly but arrogantly commanded as he took a step back and waited.
Eric knew he was in serious trouble. He could only hold one of his short swords with any strength and the elf had a longer reach with his magical blade. He nodded to his opponent and reached for his sword while keeping an eye on the elf. As he began to rise, he sprung into a backflip and threw the dagger with his injured arm.
Tyvaan anticipated the move and blocked the dagger with his sword, deflecting it away to the side. He shook his head and grinned. “Nice move. That may have worked on anyone else, but now it is time to end this. He charged in on the offensive, going high and low, left and right as the two men continued their dance. The moment came and he thrust his sword straight into the Ranger’s chest, the magical blade piercing through the leather as if it were nothing more than a cloth shirt.
A light split the air near the cabin forming a magical doorway. Verndari stepped out and collapsed to his knees, his energies spent. A large black wolf leapt through the portal behind him just before it closed in a blinding flash of light. Surprised by their sudden arrival, Tyvaan leapt into the air as he transformed back into the raven. Wolf saw the changeling and rushed after him.
Tyvaan’s transformation completed and he climbed into the air as fast as his wings could carry him. Wolf leapt into the air and snapped his teeth together just beneath the rising bird. Tyvaan flew quickly to the treetops in a random pattern as Wolf’s form changed and his armor and weapons magically appeared.
Exhausted from using so much divine magic, but concerned for his friend, Verndari crawled to Eric’s side so that he could inspect the wound. He placed his hands over Eric’s chest and began praying to Mikael to have mercy on his friend and heal him. He pleaded out loud to his God as he watched his friends breathing growing shallow.
“Andrew.” Eric coughed as he looked toward Wolf. “Protect Ahna.”
Wolf looked desperately to the Cleric who continued pleading to his God to heal their friend, and then the direction of the fleeing Changeling.
“Please.” Eric coughed again, expelling more blood. “Promise me.”
Wolf walked to his friend’s side and nodded a confirmation. Eric forced a smile as his chest fell for the last time.
“He is gone.” Verndari choked as he looked up at Wolf with tears in his eyes.
Wolf growled with a fierce anger as both the man and the wolf turned their only thoughts to killing the changeling.
“You made a promise to Eric!” Verndari yelled nervously.
Wolf turned to the Cleric with a look that made the man shrink back in fear.
“You made a promise to Eric.” Verndari stated again with less enthusiasm. “Please.”
Wolf stood there in his anger for several moments looking from the Cleric back to where the Changeling had gone. He looked down at Eric then nodded sadly. A moment later he had caught Ahna’s scent and was on the chase.
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It was a two day hard ride southeast from their cabin to the city of Harstag, and another two days south from there to Crescent Bay and the Emerald Palace. There was a rider’s station at Harstag where Ahna knew that she could get a fresh horse for the remainder of her journey. Her Aunt Sarah also lived there and should be able to provide her with a quick meal before continuing.
She arrived at Sarah’s home as evening approached on the second day. Exhausted and sore from the hard bareback ride, the short walk from the rider’s station to her aunt’s home seemed far longer than it really was. She arrived at the door hungry and tired. The last time she had been here was for a party and the house had been alive with the sound of family and friends. Now the house was eerily silent. Ahna knocked and waited nervously as footsteps approached the door.
“Who’s there?”
“Aunt Sarah, it’s me – Ahna.”
“Come in.” her Aunt replied as she unlocked the door.
Ahna pushed gently on the door as she heard her aunt’s footsteps moving away. The door swung slowly open and Ahna could see her Aunt walking toward the back of the house.
“Is your father here too?”
Ahna looked around nervously, sensing that something wasn’t right. “No, I am traveling to Crescent Bay alone.” she looked around at the few candles providing light in the room and shivered. The flickering candles provided some light, but somehow the house felt darker. “Is Uncle Erland home?”
Her Aunt kept her face down and spoke quietly. “Your Uncle is away on business.” She fell silent for a moment then changed the subject, “Are you staying for the night? You are welcome to stay in the guest room.”
“I just need something to eat, then I’ll be on my way. I wish I could stay longer.”
“Yes, you said you were going to Crescent Bay. What takes you there?”
“I am delivering a letter to the King.”
“A letter?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t Eric usually report to the King in person?”
Ahna looked at her curiously “I thought you didn’t care about his work.”
“I was just curious” She replied as she walked back toward the kitchen with a laugh that sounded more like a cough. “You truly are your father’s daughter.” She returned a moment later with her head up and a sword in her hand.
Ahna sprung to her feet when she saw the sword in her Aunt’s hands. Her Aunt had never trained with weapons of any kind, she detested them, and wanted nothing to do with them, yet here she was holding the sword like a veteran fighter. Ahna’s daggers appeared in her hands almost magically.
“Where is my Aunt?”
The Changeling laughed mockingly. “Dead, like her husband, and your father by now.”
“You lie!” Ahna screamed as she rushed forward, her daggers drawn.
The Changeling smiled as their weapons met in a clash of steel. She placed one hand behind her back and faced Ahna with the skills developed over many years of training, yet Ahna was meeting her every move, even putting her on the defensive. Surprised by the girl’s strength and skill, she decided it was best not to play games and feigned to the side.
Ahna recognized the move for what it was, and took advantage of the opportunity to leave a dark red line across the Changelings side.
The monster stepped back and looked at the wound angrily. “Now you die.” She then leapt forward putting every ounce of her energy and skill to use.
Ahna was already tired and hungry, and the monster was too well trained. It was time to run and she knew it. She turned and sprinted for the door which opened unexpectedly before her. She slipped on the dusty wood floor and fell onto her back as she looked up at the intruder.
Standing over her like a nightmare, the legendary Assassin known as the Ghost Wolf looked down at her growling angrily. The changeling panicked the moment the door opened and began backing away. The Assassin bent low to step through the doorway, then stepped past Ahna to face the Changeling.
Ahna took advantage of the opening and leapt to her feet and sprinted to the only safe place in the city she could think of: the Temple of Mikael.
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The Changeling knew the enemy who stood before her by his reputation, but the growling monster facing her was beyond anything she had imagined. Full of rage, the huge wolfish figure approached her. “Stay back!” she screamed in desperation with her sword pointed toward the intimidating figure.
The Assassin bared his sharp teeth and approached as if she were merely a child. There was no fear, only hate and pure anger approaching her.
The Changeling dodged to her left, hoping to find a way to get past the Assassin, but he moved with incredible speed, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her into the wall. She slashed desperately at his chest, but her blade could not cut through the protective armor.
Wolf slapped her weapon arm down hard, forcing her to drop her sword. Her screams were cut short as he bit down on her exposed neck, tearing at her flesh. The Changeling’s corpse hit the ground and the Assassin rushed back to the door and lifted his nose high into the air searching for his next victim.
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Ahna ran all the way to the Temple without looking back. When she arrived, her lungs were on fire and her side was aching. She cursed when she found the Temple gates locked for the night. Mikael forgive me she prayed, then scaled the outer wall and dropped lightly into the beautiful and serene temple garden.
Ahna nearly jumped out of her skin when she was greeted by the voice of a young woman who was leaning against the wall. The girl shook her head and smiled. “When Verndari told me to go stand in the garden and wait for someone to scale the walls, I thought it was another one of his games, but here you are!”
Ahna blushed at being caught then ran to her friend. “Laurana! I’m sorry, but I have to talk to…” she paused as she realized what her friend had said. “Did you just say Verndari knew I would scale the wall?”
Laurana laughed “If it is happening or will happen within these walls, he knows about it.” She hugged her friend. “It’s good to see you again. I would love to catch up but Verndari is waiting for you.”
Ahna felt herself relaxing as they entered the Temple and Laurana led her down the long corridors. The interior was decorated with soothing colors, rounded edges and natural decor. Ahna had been to the Temple before, but had never been past the public worship rooms near the entryway. They passed an occasional priest or acolyte who would merely bow and smile warmly as they passed.
Here deeper within the Temple, a very subtle, relaxing melody could be heard echoing through the hallways, though Ahna could not locate the source. The deeper they walked into the Temple the more relaxed she felt, in fact, she couldn’t remember when she had last felt so relaxed. A thought drifted across her mind about something important that she needed to do, but she decided it could wait a little while longer. She soon found herself sliding down the wall into a seated position where she closed her eyes and slept.
Teaya ‘Spark’Vornyrr stood alone atop the western cliffs of Belkuu with her arms outstretched and eyes closed. Her long milky white hair whipped behind her in the wind as dark clouds heavy with moisture raced past. The sky was alive with a magnificent lightning display that would have most people running for cover, but Teaya was reveling in the power of the storm.
She flinched as a bolt of lightning blasted the cliff face a stone’s throw away, sending rock crashing into the angry waters below. The close proximity of the strike made her momentarily question her decision to be on the cliff, but her fascination with the storm’s power overruled her fears and served as an outward display of her own emotional turmoil. She raised her hands slowly above her head and smiled as she felt the power building within her. Energy coursed through her chest, bringing with it a warmth and strength that spread up through her arms as she spoke the words of a spell. Her hands whipped down, stopping to point at a small dead tree leaning over the edge of the cliffs. A bolt of lightning split the air, obliterating the tree and sending rocks crashing down into the sea below once again.
Teaya had come to the cliffs this night to vent her frustrations. Her uncle and best friend had recently been banished for inciting the younger generation (including herself) to fight for their freedom. He only wanted to prove to the world that the dark skinned elves were innocent of the charges that had been brought against their people at the beginning of the Great War. And now, her Aunt Zarae had left the island to support her brother in their efforts to find the proof they needed to free their people and refused to take Teaya with her.
Teaya rubbed her fingers together and electric sparks erupted around her hands like a miniature lightning storm that followed the movement of her hand. A smile crossed face and she laughed as her thoughts drifted back to the day that she had learned this very spell that had become her nickname. Her Aunt Zarae had been watching over her that day as her mother was working with the council. Teaya was a handful as a toddler with her boundless energy and endless curiosity. Zarae had cast the ‘Spark’ spell in an effort to entertain her niece. The small burst of electricity had erupted around her hands, crackling and popping to Teaya’s delight. Teaya had begged her Aunt to do it again, and then watched closely with wide-eyed excitement as her Aunt repeated the spell. The young girl then mimicked her Aunt perfectly causing sparks to erupt in a small wave of crackling light of her own. She squealed in delight as she ran around in circles yelling “Spark! Spark! Spark”
Zarae had been astonished by the ease in which her young niece had learned the spell, but also quickly came to regret it when Teaya began shocking people for fun. To keep the girl from trouble, Zarae created a special magic absorbing bracelet for Teaya to wear, and magically ensured that it could not be removed until Teaya was old enough to take on as an apprentice.
Teaya had grown up enjoying her Aunt’s fantastic stories of faraway places. Her favorite stories were those of a man who she called the Protector of Mahdecra, a tall, strong man who could transform himself into an enormous black wolf that struck fear into his enemies. Her Aunt told the stories with so much emotion, that Teaya had come to believe that Zarae was in love with the extraordinary, though imaginary man.
Teaya was nearly twenty one now and her abilities to manipulate magical energies continued to grow rapidly much to her people’s dismay. Her abilities had already surpassed some of the Elders, but she was regarded as dangerous due to her restless and often fearless nature. Because of their fears, the council had recently ordered Zarae to stop training her, and because of those orders, Zarae now spent most of her time away.
Teaya closed her almond shaped eyes and raised her face to the sky in contemplation. She was now forbidden contact with the two people she cared about most, was no longer allowed to be trained, and to top it all off, she was stuck here on this small Island. No, an island might not be so bad, but Belkuu was in fact a penal colony inhabited mostly by murderers, rapists and other degenerates that had been banished here for their crimes. The dark elves were merely ‘guests’ for the past two centuries.
Teaya watched the clouds speeding by and took a deep breath. She could leave the island, she was sure of it. She walked to the edge of the cliff and shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked longingly to the West. Somewhere out there Mahdecra was calling to her. She took a deep breath and nodded. She had to try; even death would be better than remaining here any longer.
Her eyes widened knowingly as her hair began to stand on end informing her of the danger she was in, but before she could move, a bolt of lightning struck the cliff face just below her causing the ground she was standing on to give way. She closed her eyes and spoke the words of a levitation spell, stopping her fall and regaining her balance just above the reach of the churning sea, or so she thought. A large wave caught her off guard and slammed her into the cliff wall, ending her spell.
Nearly unconscious from the powerful blow, she clung desperately to a clump of roots as she searched in the darkness for a way up. Her hand bumped into an object that was protruding from the cliff wall, and she clung to it as another wave crashed into her. Courage welled up inside and her fears subsided instantly as she clung to what appeared to be the hilt of a dagger that was embedded in the stone. “Now or Never” she screamed against the wind then cast her levitation spell again. As she again became weightless she raised her legs and pushed against the cliff wall while pulling the handle of the dagger with all her might. The dagger broke free from the wall, and she kissed the flat of the blade as she levitated out of the reach of the angry sea.
She raised her arms and cast a second spell, summoning a channel of wind behind her that pushed her faster and faster away from the island. She continued clinging to the dagger as she poured all of her energy into keeping herself moving to the West. Mahdecra was roughly two hundred miles away and though she had never attempted to hold multiple spells up that long before, she found her courage was strengthening as she flew across the sea, and soon found herself reveling in the excitement of the challenge.
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Teaya opened her eyes and began coughing and spitting up sea water. The last thing she could remember was the chill of the icy water as her strength had failed and her spells had ended. She looked down with relief as she realized that she was still clinging to the dagger that had saved her. She turned the unique blade over in her hand to inspect its curious workmanship more closely, and then kissed the flat of the blade as she began to laugh. She lay back onto the sand as the waves rhythmically washed up around her and then retreated again. She was exhausted and half-drowned, but had never felt more alive. This was NOT Belkuu!
She stood and raised the dagger toward the sea in a challenging gesture. “Beat that Daimori!” she yelled with a friendly but mocking tone. She knew that her Uncle could not hear her, but took comfort in knowing that if he were here, he would merely congratulate her on not getting herself killed.
She tucked the dagger away in her boot, then surveyed her surroundings looking for a sign of civilization. A light flickered some distance to the north as if in reply. She looked down at her clothes which were heavy with water and sighed as she gathered what strength she could, and raised her arms to her sides as she closed her eyes. She whispered the words of a spell and concentrated as a wind began to swirl around her faster and faster, blowing the sand from her long silky hair and drying out her clothes.
The crossing had taken more of a toll on the young sorceress than she had been prepared for, or would ever admit to, but she admitted reluctantly to herself that she really needed to rest. She found a spot out of reach of the tide and quickly fell asleep.
As she fell asleep, a gem on the daggers pommel began to glow momentarily then dimmed as the dagger faded from view.
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“Gavin, the coast is clear. signal the boat.” commanded a tall man with numerous scars on his face and a rather comical looking mustache and beard. His long curly hair fell out of his weathered tricorne hat and ran down the back of his long pirate coat. One hand with a variety of rings rested on the hilt of his well used saber while the other rubbed his scraggly beard thoughtfully.
“Right away Lorne” the younger man responded as he lit a pair of torches and walked nervously out toward the end of the dock. The young man continued waving the torches as he searched through the morning fog for the rowboat that was bringing in their latest shipment.
The man in the Tricorne spat on the ground, “Get the merchandise loaded quickly. We need to be on our way before anyone questions our business here. I will return shortly.” He then walked away leaving Gavin to do the work.
Whatever you say boss! Gavin wanted to yell out sarcastically. He knew he could never respond that way to Lorne. His brother was bigger, and mean, not to mention he had been like a father to him ever since their parents died. Gavin also admitted to himself shamefully that he just didn’t have the courage to confront his brother. “Jerk” he coughed quietly into his hand instead.
The rowboat soon broke through the fog and approached the dock cautiously. “We’ve brought eight of ‘em tonight; six dwarves and two gnomes. Should be good for diggin’!” the leader of the small group laughed quietly as his men moored the boat.
“Move em to the cages.”
“What about payment? They ain’t goin’ nowhere without payment.” the leader grinned eagerly.
“Of course” Gavin agreed as he handed over a bag of coins.
The man opened the bag and did a visual count to make sure he wasn’t getting stiffed, then ordered his associates to move the slaves. The men dragged the slaves off the boat one at a time and loaded them into the pair of prison carts as directed. As they loaded up the last slave and locked the door, one of the dwarves began struggling against the ropes and tried calling out for help, but his weak and muffled voice barely reached the ears of his captors.
“What are you doing to these men?” a melodic voice asked.
Gavin spun around and found himself stuttering as he looked into the eyes of the beautiful female wood elf that had addressed him.
“They, um, are, um, prisoners. Thieves.” he stuttered.
One of the slavers signaled the others and the three men rushed the elf, knowing that if she caused a distraction she could get them all thrown in prison for slave trading. The air lit up as electricity erupted around them in a paralyzing blast as they grabbed her. The men all fell to the ground shaking from the blast. Teaya stepped forward placing her palms together, one on top of the other as the terrified Gavin turned to run. The electricity that had been dancing around her converged between her hands as she prepared to launch the bolt at the fleeing coward.
A rag with an awful smell was slapped over her face from behind breaking her concentration and ending the spell. Before she could react, she found herself being lowered to the ground as the rag with the horrible smell rendered her unconscious. The last thing she saw was the eyes of the men going wide as all of her spells ended, including the one that had been disguising her.
“Get back here Gavin!” Lorne yelled at his pitiful brother who was cowering near the corner of a building. He looked down again excitedly at the dark skinned elf he had just captured.
The color ran out of the faces of the other men, and the leader spoke in hushed tones. “We ain’t wanten no part of this. Her kin’ll kill ya’all for sure.” And they scuttled back to their boat and disappeared into the fog without another word.
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Teaya opened her eyes and squinted against the light as she tried to sit up. Her head was throbbing and she felt nauseous. Her vision slowly cleared and she found herself surrounded by iron bars. She grimaced at the bouncing of the prison cart which amplified the pounding in her head and winced when she tried to move her wrists which were bound by some kind of steel contraption. She rolled onto her back and laughed. Well Teaya, you asked for an adventure!
Gavin looked back at the cage and began to panic as he heard the dark elf laughing. He stopped his cart and leapt off. “Lorne, the witch is wakin’ up!” He screamed as he pointed to his cart.
“You coward!” Lorne chastised as he stopped his own cart. “The witch is harmless now that she’s wearin’ them binders.”
“What if they don’t work? We’ve not used em before!”
Lorne waved his hand before his face as if he was swatting away a fly, “That shadowy mage seemed real anxious to find a dark skinned elf woman. Offered to pay us ten times what we make in a year for one. Even gave us them binders for free in case the elf was like her, with magic ‘n all. So I ain’t got no reason to believe they won’t work. Now get back on yur dang cart and drive!”
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Teaya woke up with a bit of a headache the next morning but was relieved to find that the nausea had subsided and that the nasty smell had faded to a tolerable level. She laughed quietly to herself as she remembered the conversation she had overheard between the two men the previous evening.
“Mornin witch!” Lorne insulted as he approached the cage to get a good look at his prize.
Teaya glared back at the man, knowing that he must be the one who had gagged her with the foul smelling concoction, as its scent grew stronger as he neared. “Ha, insulted by a man who looks like he had a fight with a beaver and lost.”
Lorne reached up and stroked his scraggly beard as if he were proud of it and at least somewhat offended by the comment while his lusting eyes wandered her shapely frame. “Fer a dark skinned witch, ya are a pretty thang.”
Teaya screwed up her face in disgust “You truly have a death wish don’t you? Come closer and I’ll make that happen.”
He smiled at her smugly as he walked confidently up to the bars. “Oh really? I’m guessing ya haven’t tried makin magic with them binders on yet.”
Teaya watched the pit-faced Lorne approach until he stood close enough she could have touched him through the bars. Instead, she raised her hands and a bolt of electricity erupted from her in a wave that sent Lorne flying onto his back. Teaya screamed in agony as the binders began glowing and pain unlike anything she had felt before coursed through her body. She clenched her jaw and tried to fight against the pain but her vision darkened as the pain rendered her unconscious.
“I told ya this was a bad idea!” Gavin whined as he kept his distance.
Lorne lay on his back for several minutes waiting for his muscles to stop quivering then got up slowly, “It stopped her. She just beat it by a second somehow.” he stated with hesitation.
“What if she keeps beating it?”
Lorne forced a laugh in an attempt to look braver than he currently felt, “Keeps beating it? Did you see the look on her face when they lit up? That hurt her more’n it did me. Just the same, sooner we get rid o her, the better.”
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Wolf padded up to his cabin cautiously as he caught the scent of an intruder. He transformed into his Assassin form and prepared for a fight. The scent of the uninvited guest ended at the door of his cabin. Wolf paused to reflect as he realized the scent was familiar, but one he had not encountered in many years. He then opened the door cautiously and peered inside.
A dark skinned elf dressed in black leather was sitting at the table. Wolf growled as he entered, causing his guest to slowly reach for his daggers should he need them. If Wolf had been uncertain of the man’s identity, his hair confirmed it. With long white hair on one side and shaved on the other he knew his ‘guest’ was a dark elf assassin he had known many years ago. “What are you doing here Daimori?” Wolf growled.
“We need to talk.”
Wolf continued to growl but kept his distance. The elf’s presence brought back memories that were both wonderful and terrible. The wolf within didn’t trust anyone, but it was Andrew that had recognized the visitor. The dual personalities fought for control; The Wolf wanting to bury the human memories and the man trying to recall them.
The elf continued cautiously as he watched Wolf’s silent inner battle. “Teaya has vanished from Belkuu.”
“Who is Teaya, and why should I care?” Wolf growled.
Daimori nodded and smiled. “Of course, you don’t know her. My apologies. Teaya is my niece. Zarae contacted me to help find her.”
Zarae! Upon hearing her name, Wolf ceased his growl. That name brought with it both happiness and pain, and would be the last name Wolf would ever forget. He removed his bow and quiver and sat down. “I was unaware you had a niece.”
The Elf relaxed and eased his hands away from his daggers. “Yes, I do not believe you ever met her. Her name is Teaya, though most of us call her ‘Spark’. I tracked her to Mahdecra and have been searching for leads. I found one and followed it inland a short distance from South Sea, but you know Mahdecra and I do not. I need your help to find her.” He paused and Wolf could see the anger flaring in the man’s eyes. “She was last seen in a slave cart heading West through southern Aldania.”
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Teaya awoke some time later to the sound of a crackling fire. She began to sit up but found herself bruised and stiff from the long ride. She groaned and brought her hands closer to her face as she remembered the incredible pain that the device had subjected her to. The runes were in a language that she had never encountered in her studies, and she reluctantly admitted to herself that the binders were an amazing piece of work.
Teayas stomach growled, reminding her that she had not eaten in a couple of days. She looked over toward the crackling of a fire and found the brothers eating. She guessed that they had no intention of killing her; at least not yet, so she took a chance. “If you aren’t going to kill me, can I have something to eat, or at least some water?”
Lorne looked her direction and then the brothers exchanged words. Lorne tossed a water skin to the younger man and pointed toward the carts. As he approached, Gavin looked like he might flee in terror if she so much as flinched. “Bringin you along was not my idea” he said nervously as he cautiously slid the water skin between the bars as if she were a snake about to strike.
Teaya looked more closely at the young man as he passed her the water skin. He was a mess. His brown hair was standing in every direction, his clothes were dirty and too big for him, and the poor fool kept staring at his feet. She felt sorry for this one. “Why do you work with him?” she asked quietly as she carefully brought the water-skin to her mouth.
“He’s my brother.”
She nearly choked on the water as he answered. “Brother? He treats you more like a slave. You should leave him.” she stated flatly as she raised the water-skin back to her lips and emptied its contents. When she lowered her hands she noticed that he was staring at her with a mixture of emotions. “I’m serious. You need to leave him, and soon if you want to live.”
Gavin’s eyes widened at the threat but he stayed put. “I can’t just leave” he muttered.
“If you don’t leave, you will die with him.”
Gavin looked at the cage she was sitting in and then at the binders on her wrists with a nervous expression across his not so educated face.
“Yes, these might stop me from killing him myself,” she smiled as she raised the binders “but by now my family will know that I am missing, and my Uncle, who is a Master Assassin and Tracker is probably on our trail.” She knew that her Uncle Daimori probably had no idea that she was missing yet, but she enjoyed the terrified expression that resulted from the small lie.
Gavin’s expression wouldn’t have been much different if she had just stabbed him in the gut with her dagger. He wandered slowly and thoughtfully back to the campfire, looking back at her repeatedly. She felt a pang of guilt for scaring the young man so badly, but actually hoped the pitiful youth would at least consider leaving his beast of a brother.
Teaya rolled uncomfortably onto her back after the campfire had burned itself down to a small lump of red coals and the brothers were sleeping. With her darkvision, she could see as well in the dark as she could during the day. She rolled her ankle and looked to see if the dagger was still in her boot or if they had found it. As she wiggled her foot she could feel the blade, but she could not see it. She reached down and felt for it, grabbing it by the hilt and pulling it out. She looked at her hand curiously as she could feel the hilt of the dagger in her hand, but could not see it until it materialized after a few seconds. She smiled and placed the dagger back in her boot where she watched it again fade from view. She then brought the binders back up to her face to inspect the sinister device more closely in hopes that she might find a way to escape them.
“Frustrating device isn’t it?” a voice whispered in the dark behind her.
Teaya flinched at the sound of the male voice and quickly turned to find its owner. A cloaked figure was standing only a few paces away from her in the dark. She blinked, wondering at first why she couldn’t see his face, and how he had moved so silently that she had not heard him approaching.
“You are confused why you cannot see my face.” He stated bluntly.
“It is a magical darkness.” Teaya responded in recognition. “I know you aren’t one of the brothers, they are both sleeping over there, so who are you?”
“Correct. I prefer to keep my identity anonymous… for now. You can consider me a friend,” he whispered as he slid a black, leather bound book etched with runes through the prison bars. “It is going to be a long trip, so I brought you some reading material.”
“Can’t you just let me out?” she asked, nodding toward the door with her chin.
“I am truly sorry, but that is something that I must not do. I must leave now, but I left a note for you inside the book. Read, you might learn something.” the strange man then quickly slipped away into the night.
Teaya shook her head in disbelief as she watched him disappear into the darkness. She then cautiously picked up the book. After flipping through a few pages, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. This is a dark magic spellbook. She closed the book and moved to toss it through the bars, but slipped the book beneath a tattered blanket instead. She wasn’t sure if she had decided to keep it, but she did not want Lorne to find it lying on the ground by her cart either. She was also somewhat curious as to what she might find within its pages.
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A few days later Lorne walked up to the evening fire and smacked his brother on the back of the head. “Have you taken a vow of silence or somethin?”
Gavin glared at him and put his head back down on his knees.
“You haven’t said a word in days. Did yur girlfriend cut yur tongue off or somethin?” he sneered with a glance over to the slave carts. “Will ya start talking again when we are rid of her tomorrow?”
Gavin looked up at his brother, “Tomorrow?”
“He speaks! Where’ve ya been, lover boy? You’ve been on this trail as many times as I.”
Gavin looked toward the slave carts then lowered his head onto his knees again with a shrug.
Teaya waited for the men to fall asleep that night then retrieved the book. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her a couple nights earlier and she had begun reading it. The spells seemed to leap off the pages and engrain themselves into her memory as easily as if she had already known them, though the purpose of the spells were darker than anything she had previously learned. As she flipped through the pages, a small piece of parchment fell out. She picked it up and read:
The mage binders are powerful and casting any spell will result in intense pain. To unlock them, you must have the silver key, or know the verbal key ‘Lock without key, I release thee.’
Teaya looked from the note to the bindings. A verbal key? She tucked the note back into the book and hid them away. She thought about the strange man that had given her the book. She knew nothing about him and had no idea what he wanted from her. He had given her the book and claimed to be a friend. Could she trust him? She looked at the binders then closed her eyes and repeated the verbal key out loud.
A click sounded from inside the binders and they loosened. She held them up and saw that they were now unlocked. She rubbed her fingers together and smiled as electrical sparks began dancing around her finger tips.