“The eyes are the quickest to deceive a man.
This is why I am glad to be blind.
There are no deceptions.”
Arajuan to Tarnink
Anika lay in her tent and stared at the ceiling. She was restless and found it difficult to get to sleep. She sat there with thoughts of home and Atron Reu. He always had made her laugh, and she missed him. The boy often got himself into trouble with the other elves. He had a habit of escaping the village, which caused her to drag him back. If he were to do that now, without her, Arajuan might find him. She despised having to deal with Arajuan’s cruel way of taunting her mind.
Anika felt uneasy about Atron, that he was unhappy without her. She hoped she was wrong as she already worried enough. Whatever the child did she wanted him to stay safe. The Aldarian Army hunted half-dragons now even more than dragons were. Thinking of dragons
“It was a vast burning field
where no flowers grew
blood covered the embers
where no bodies were strewn
Who could do this to a land
that committed no crime
a place that had peace
In a time before time”
the devastation Arajuan
caused through out
That morning Anika awoke as the sun peeked into her tent. With the darkness gone the sun beamed the brightest she had ever seen. Only a slight trace of sulfur was on the wind much to her relief. She sat up, her stomach had a dull ache, but her legs healed except for scars on the back of them. Her shoulder where Arajuan gripped her had no wound at all. She had fallen asleep in her travel armor, so she did not need to dress. She left her tent, found Tarnink was already up and had prepared a fire.
Tarnink pulled out a pack of food and handed it to her. She tried to eat but her stomach felt numb. The food just sat and rotted. She tossed the food away from her in frustration.
“Arajuan, that vile beast, he is trying to starve me to death,” she exclaimed.
“How many fear the dark only
to find there is little to fear”
-The Bird-Child Socrates
As the shadowy mist faded away, a foreboding man with charred brittle skin appeared. In the cracks, there glowed what appeared to be red-hot lava. His eyes were embers as he glared at them. Anika regained her bearings, Tarnink behind her, sword drawn. A small troop of twisted men circled them.
Anika found herself faced with this monstrosity. His eyes glowed so hot that his stare burned into her. He was blind, yet Anika felt he could sense her that he was looking at her.
The scar he had on his left eye glowed the brightest red and cut deeper than the other cracks of his flesh. Strapped to his right side he carried a sword, and in his right hand a long spear. His long feathery black hair blended in with the darkness of the forest. He wore a battered
“There are none fairer than the
Earth Elves of Lenagard”
Tarnink, ambassador of Lenagard
A young woman with elven beauty walked along a narrow forest path. Her black and red streaked hair swept past her high cheekbones with a small wind. She froze at the sound of a snapped twig and sniffed the air. She caught the distinct scent of rohit-elafi along with the familiar trace of sulfur. The woman grabbed her bow as she peered out through her emerald eyes, the slit pupils narrowed when she spotted her prey. Her arched eyebrows curved in concentration. It was an older rohit-elafi and was not likely to survive the coming winter; she shot and hit her mark.
The woman approached the small red deer like creature and lifted it over her slender shoulders with ease. The weight shifted on her shoulders. She moved a strand of her wavy hair away from her eyes as she slid down the path. The narrow path grew wider and large trees dotted
“O to see a dragon birth.
To travel to one’s dark lair
Deep within the earth
Pray the Dragon spares thee”
Quoted by Arajuan to his men
warning them the danger
of hunting dragons.
Deep in a massive shadowy cave, the smoky black egg was preparing to hatch. The father, Rork crouched down and blew flames on it to hasten its incubation. His vast scorched wings tucked behind him, his neck stretched forward toward it. He focused his entire energy on hatching the egg.
To the left side of Rork sat a smaller female curled up in her nest of straw and rocks. The mother, she was a misty-black dragon. Her wings were thin delicate membranes she kept folded into her. She pressed the frilled crests to the side of her smooth face and neck as she edged nearer. She watched over him with an anxious eye.
A new large line appeared on the shell. Rork looked up and detected the crack. He called out with telepathy.
Mika, it is hatching, he exclaimed.