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The book so far

Chapter 1: The Qorix



Mytrith the elf stared out at the mountains. He wasn’t watching where he was going though, and tripped on his stairs. Everything seemed to slow down, giving him just enough time to hold out his slender but powerful arms to stop his fall. This didn’t surprise him. He was used to it, as all elves were. This was elven reflexes. He was on his way back to his house from the local Magic Academy of Dragonrage Town. He was training to become a spellsword. He had been practicing his swordsmanship for many centuries now, and he was confident in his blade skill. He had been putting off learning magic, because when he was 300 years old, a bully had picked on him with magic. He knew that learning it would help him see past this darker side, but he still did not find himself comfortable around magic users. Dragonrage town was not his home town, but it was where he lived for the time being, because his old friend, Kiuryth, was the Archmage here. Dragonrage was a dark elf town, and Mytrith was an elf. Dark elves were often misunderstood as being inherently evil like demons. They were not like this at all. Elves were more welcomed than dark elves, but were still misunderstood by humans. While the two did not like each other, they had a cease-fire ever since the fall of King Anurith of the humans.
Mytrith was so interested in the mountains, because there was said to be a dragon living there, an ancient and powerful one who told a great deal of things to worthy adventurers who managed to find his lair. Shortly after Mytrith arrived in Dragonrage, however, the dragon, named Lirauk, had left, sealing his lair off to greedy thieves, seeking remnants of the dragon’s abode. Everyone had their own theories as to why he left. Some said he was attacked by humans in the night, and they burned everything he had and sealed the lair as a sign of their deed. Others said there was a local wyrm that was more powerful than him, which was ridiculous. Wyrms were very similar to dragons in many ways, in that they breathe fire and fly, but are more beasts than civilized beings. They are noticeably less intelligent than dragons, and are unable to use magic.
Besides, Lirauk was powerful, even for a dragon. There was no way he would have been driven off by a wyrm. All of these ideas and stories (for bards sometimes came claiming they knew the truth) had excited Mytrith even more, but he wanted to go there and find out for himself. But Kiuryth insisted that Mytrith stay in the safety of the town until he had learned some magic. Kiuryth said that magic was your only true defense out there. There were unimaginable creatures in those mountains.
That night, he began to practice some spells he had learned that day. He enjoyed one in particular, which made inanimate objects dance. He had questioned how this was defensive until he asked Kiuryth about it. He said it would entertain and distract some of the less intelligent beings, like ogres. From what he knew of ogres and other such creatures, Mytrith found that believable. But he still did not buy it until Kiuryth summoned an ogre, and the only thing it wanted to do was watch a rock dance. Mytrith was speechless. So, he practiced it, knowing it was likely that he would encounter an ogre or some sort of creature like it in the mountains. Another spell he learned caused clouds to break and send down a beam of sunlight. This would protect against vampires and undead, who were weakened by light. Mytrith doubted there were undead in the mountains, but Kiuryth said he had met an orc necromancer while he was there.

***
The next day, on his way to the Academy, he saw a traveling storyteller, with a familiar face. It was Mytrith’s old friend Aulur, a half-dragon.
“Mytrith?” said Aulur, surprised to see his friend here.
“Hello, my friend!” Mytrith said happily. “Which story are you telling them now?”
“Ah, it’s your favorite one,” Aulur said. “The one with the sleeping wyrm.”
“I see, and which weapon did you use this time?” They laughed.
“Actually this is the one with the dagger on the ground.”
“Ha! Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’d hate to ruin the atmosphere for your listeners.”
Mytrith met Aulur on a roc-boat heading from the elven capital to Roctalon, another dark elf town a small distance away from Dragonrage. Aulur heard of some minotaur camps near Roctalon, and he was running out of stories in his home town, so eventually, he was forced to become a traveling storyteller. Mytrith was going there because Kiuryth was a student at the Roctalon Academy. He had sent a letter to Mytrith telling him about his plans to become an Archmage in Dragonrage, which was the only local town without an Academy. He offered Mytrith a scholarship in the Dragonrage Academy. Mytrith realized at that point that it was going to be a difficult but necessary piece of his path to becoming a legendary spellsword.
Mytrith was confident in himself to learn all he could about magic. He was determined that day to learn more spells than the day before. As he walked into the Academy, he noticed that the normal warlock that stood guard was not present. Instead, Kiuryth greeted him, staring at him with eyes whose iris were as red as fire, and hair that was black as the silhouette of the mountains at sunset, and a face pale as snow.
“Welcome Mytrith. I have news that I believe you will like.” Kiuryth’s voice was quiet, and always sent a chill down Mytrith’s spine. But not that time. What Kiuryth had said excited Mytrith. “Follow me then.” Kiuryth lead Mytrith down the hall, talking as they walked: “The masters and I all agree that you have excelled beyond most of the other students. We have decided to let you go. Remember, you can always come back, for although you are leaving, you are still part of the Academy.” He led Mytrith, who was speechless, to a door. Inside was the master of every class, warlock, druid, sorcerer, everyone. The sorcerer, who was the one who trained Mytrith the most besides Kiuryth, handed him a small scroll.
“This is your Scroll of Departure,” he said “It signifies that you have passed the Academy, and will also teleport you back here, whenever necessary.”
Mytrith opened the scroll slowly, savoring the moment. Sure enough, it said,

Mytrith the elf has passed the Magic Academy of Dragonrage Town. He is to be regarded with respect.

Below this were runes, indicating the spell needed to cast to teleport. It also had the seal of Dragonrage town, a dragon wrapped up in a scroll. “Thank you, I don’t know what to say!”
“Just thank you will do fine,” Kiuryth said. “Now, you could go into the mountains, but I would suggest bringing someone with you.”
“Thank you,” Mytrith said, “I know just the person.”

***

“Wait, wait, I’m almost done,” said Aulur impatiently. “Then, the wyrm woke up! I drew the dagger that had been lying on the ground, and-“
“Aulur! This is big! It might get you more stories…”
“Ok, just let me finish this one! I drew the dagger and held it high! The wyrm recoiled in fear, frightened by me blade, and my appearance, so like the beast itself! It fell backwards, smashing into the cavern wall! The ceiling began to cave in! I spread my wings and flew out, covered in dust from the fallen stalactites!” Everyone gathered around began to clap. This was when Mytrith lost his patience.
“Yes, yes, and now, the great Aulur will come with me, to find more adventure! This time, it will feature the local mountains!”
Aulur’s eyes widened. “Yes! And so, I leave you, to return more experienced than ever!” Then he whispered in Mytrith’s ear, “Why didn’t you tell me you were talking about the mountains? Everyone’s been begging for stories about Lirauk!”
“Because, my friend, you wouldn’t let me tell you!”
“Oh, heh heh, sorry about that. But you know how it is, I start to tell the story, I got to finish it.”
“Yes, yes. Now, I assume you know how to defend yourself?”
“Of course! I didn’t make up those stories you know.”
Mytrith stared at him.
“Ok, so I made a few parts up, but doesn’t every storyteller? And besides, why are we going to the mountains? To find treasure, investigate Lirauk’s disappearance, what?”
“You’ll be happy to know that we are going to investigate Lirauk’s lair.” And so, they went to the stables, bought two horses (both did not like the presence of Aulur at all) and rode towards the mountains.
That night, they set up camp in the foothills. They took turns standing guard, for they both knew what manner of creatures lurked around these places at night. On Mytrith’s last turn before dawn, he heard something, like the wind had suddenly picked up, but he didn’t feel it, and it had a steady beat, like a heart. Whatever it was, it was moving. Fast. It was gone before Mytrith could even pinpoint where it was coming from. Right then, the first rays of sunlight that day blinded him for a moment. When his eyes adjusted, he thought he saw a tail or something flick over the mountaintop. Aulur woke up right on time. He had seen it as well.
“What was that?” he asked. “It looked like my tail! But of course bigger and…”
He never got to finish. Mytrith took off, after something shocking, exciting, and terrifying occurred to him. It was enough to get his adrenaline pumping. He ran and ran up the mountain, ignoring how steep it was. He reached the top, only to find nothing. It was quick. Mytrith was disappointed. He called down to Aulur, “Leave the campsite there. I don’t care if it’s raided, I just want to find Lirauk. And if we bring the camp with us, we’ll be going too slowly. We’d never catch up. You can fly anywhere I don’t care. I have enough adrenaline to last a week, and that seems to work wonders for climbing.”
Aulur just called back one simple word: “Ok.” So, he spread wings, and launched upward. He landed next to Mytrith, who appreciated the wind from the wing beats. Then he remembered what he had heard less than 15 minutes ago. The wind he heard, it must have been wing beats! What else would it have been? It also explained the tail! This truly excited Mytrith. What he saw next got him even more excited. He saw the mouth of a cave! He ran towards it, and Aulur got the idea and eventually saw it too, so he sped towards it using his wings as extra momentum. When Mytrith got there, his heart first skipped a beat then sank. What he saw was not the majestic golden brown dragon everyone had described, but a stone gray wyrm. He should have known. Lirauk’s lair was sealed off. His excitement got in the way of his reasoning. The foul beast sprayed a poison in Mytrith’s face. His eyes began to burn. He called for Aulur. He would have to fight for Mytrith while he washed out his eyes. So Aulur drew his unique short sword, called Truth Cutter, and sped at the creature.
Mytrith felt around for his water flask and poured it all down his face, cleansing his eyes of the venom. He then desperately tried to remember something, anything that would help.
“A LITTLE HELP HERE WOULD BE APRECIATED!” Aulur called.
“JUST GIVE ME MORE TIME!” Mytrith responded. “DIDN’T YOU KILL ONE OF THESE BEFORE?”
“NEED I REMIND YOU, THAT ONE WAS ASLEEP?” Aulur screamed, fending off the wyrm’s claws, tail, and teeth with Truth Cutter.
Mytrith struggled to remember something. Kiuryth had told him something about wyrms. Then he remembered that it was a spell. It was supposed to drive away beasts and monsters, unfortunately drawing them back to you, no matter where you are, in one week. He didn’t care. At least next time it wouldn’t take them by surprise. He cast the spell. The beast crawled out of its cave, spread its wings and fled. Aulur was so relieved, he dropped Truth Cutter. Mytrith just collapsed. He needed to tap into five mana veins to cast the spell. When a magic user casts a spell, he must tap into mana veins, veins carrying mana, the source of magic, all over the world. They were buried deep below the ground. No one knew where they came from. A few mining expeditions found some, though this was very rare. The miners claimed that they were silvery in color. They also claimed that strange crystals of the same color grew around the veins. The effort of tapping into one vein was exhausting. Mytrith was nearly knocked out casting that spell. In the long run, he figured, it would definitely pay off. He then wondered out loud, “What fantastic adventure awaits us next?”
“Most likely basilisks and leviathan,” Aulur responded.
“But there aren’t any seas here. What would a leviathan be doing on dry land?”
“Oh, I don’t know. But someone really doesn’t like us today.”
“Well, let’s hope your wrong!” But Aulur was rarely wrong about these things.

That day, they spent most of their time resting. Mytrith had to find a mountain spring to refill his flask. He ended up using all of his water to cleanse his eyes. While he was doing that Aulur was hunting. He didn’t find much of anything, so they settled for some herbs that Aulur always carried around. Mytrith didn’t mind. He was an elf, so he was used to eating plants. After dinner, Aulur began to mix the remaining herbs into potions. He told Mytrith that one of them was called a Kraken’s Blood Mixture, even though it had nothing to do with kraken blood. It was an elixir that allowed the drinker to tap into mana veins that are underwater. Sea traveling magic users would pay good money for these vials. The rest, Aulur insisted remain secret until they found Lirauk. Mytrith was disappointed, but he was utterly exhausted from that spell, so he decided to sleep. He found it hard to believe how quick the day went by. It was already dark. Aulur insisted that he remain on guard duty the entire night. He would be fine.
Strange, Mytrith was flying through the air, alongside a flock of birds, and then, bubbles began rushing from his mouth every time he breathed out. The birds were now a peaceful breed of leviathan. Soon though, they were attacked, and Mytrith was one of them all of a sudden, by the ruthless arms of a kraken. Slowly it pulled Mytrith towards that horrible, snapping beak and-
Mytrith jolted upright covered in sweat. Aulur was watching with concern.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Ya, just a bad dream,” Mytrith responded. “Hey, you know about dreams, right?”
“Of course. Why?”
“Do they mean anything?”
“Probably. But bad ones, they’re usually caused by something.”
Mytrith thought for a moment. He wondered if that necromancer Kiuryth had encountered was still there. He hoped not. Truth Cutter was their only true defense against it. Mytrith’s magic skills were no match for a well trained and powerful necromancer.
They decided to move on. They weren’t going to find Lirauk lying around here. They kept looking. Eventually, they came to a dead end, with a single cave entrance. Webs tangled the insects that flew near it. But there was no other way. He had to persuade Aulur quite a bit to go in. Aulur was arachnophobic. The thought of spiders gave him goose bumps and made him shiver. He offered to stand guard outside in case the spider was hunting and came back, but Mytrith needed Truth Cutter. He hoped that soon he would have his own unique, maybe even legendary, sword. But for now, all he had was Aulur’s Truth Cutter. Aulur, to help against thieves, made it so his blade would only work for Aulur himself, and right then he wished he hadn’t. Mytrith was right. They did need Truth Cutter. He wished he could have given it to Mytrith for now, so he wouldn’t have to enter the webby cavern, but he couldn’t.
The deeper they went, the more Aulur shook and sweat. After a while, they came to where the spider stored it’s wrapped up food. Aulur truly lost it at that point, and wished he hadn’t. He screamed letting the spider know they were there. It ran quite a ways to reach where it had heard the scream, many meters from the entrance. Aulur paled and froze. Mytrith wasn’t about to use the same spell again, so he drew his own sword, an elven long blade, and fended off the spider while simultaneously trying to wake Aulur. He must have gotten a lucky shot in, because the spider recoiled, palps rubbing one of its eight, shiny black eyes. The whole spider was midnight blue with black legs, and shiny obsidian colored fangs. It was very large for its kind. Eventually, Aulur, who must have noticed that the spider was not an immortal demon, woke up and pulled Truth Cutter out with such speed and ferocity and hatred that it cut the spider deeply. The creature then fled, tearing up its own silk webs in its haste. Aulur was relieved and simply fell backwards, knowing that the layers of web would stop his fall. Before he even hit the ground, he fainted. Mytrith grinned, very proud of his friend, and lay down as well, knowing that the spider was long gone and it was the only one.
When they woke, Mytrith noticed that they still had not gone far, and still needed to go through the entire lair to get to the other side. So he got Aulur, who was still a little dizzy, and walked for what seemed like days, when it was merely 2 hours. Eventually, he saw light ahead. He left the cave eagerly. What he saw excited him. The mouth of a cave, recently unsealed. He saw the debris littering the area. He also saw dragon footprints in the small layer of sand covering the ground. They were not too recent, but they were there, preserved in time, for not a breath of air stirred in these mountains. He also saw boot prints. There was someone else here. What else would have opened the cave? He slowly, cautiously approached the cave mouth, to find a massive chamber lined with Lirauk’s hoard of valuable artifacts. Sitting in the center of the chamber, sat someone that appeared to be a human. He looked human, until he spread his wings. Black, bat-like wings with no membrane whatsoever. Mytrith knew they could still fly though. His hair was jet black. When he opened his eyes, they were as black as his hair. The entire eye was black, not just the pupil or iris. His face was pale like a vampire’s or a dark elf’s. He was a Qorix, a form of demon. He greeted them with a voice that sounded normal, but had roots in the owner’s evil nature and gave both Mytrith and Aulur goose bumps.
“You are here to see Lirauk aren’t you?” He asked. “I am Vithmarral. I am sorry to say that Lirauk left some time ago.”
Mytrith finally found his voice, and with it the words, “What are you doing here?”
“You know, it’s dangerous to threaten one of my kind. You never know if they are powerful or not. And my people aren’t known for mercy. Fortunately for you, I am in no condition to fight, nor am I powerful.”
“Oh, sorry,” Mytrith said. “And what are you doing here, my friend?” This time he said it in a mock respectful tone, for he felt that this demonic imposter deserved no respect, even if he was more powerful.
“Very funny,” said Vithmarral. “I am here studying Lirauk’s past. He left many tomes and journals, but I have already read those. I am now reading the imprints he was forced to leave. Everyone leaves such prints in the air around them; we are making our own right now. I know not whether he was aware of the details he left, but he did, and I’m using them.”
“I see,” said Mytrith, thinking about whether or not he should trust this demon. “Well, may I see these books?”
“Of course. As I said, I am done with them. The tomes are difficult for even me to read, but the journals are just as helpful. They contain the exact same knowledge.” The demon handed Mytrith a stack of books. He sat down to read them. Aulur, who was glaring at the Qorix the whole time, read over Mytrith’s shoulder. Mytrith opened a book and was shocked. He moved his hand over the dragon’s neat handwriting. Such delicate writings from such large hands! Amazed, he began to read:

I have found a new lair near the town of Dragonrage. I hope the name is simply traditional. I was forced to leave my last home because of the local villagers’ constant raids. These are dark elves though. Those were humans. Humans are a young race, and must be forgiven for their first many follies. But if they continue centuries later, it must be stopped. I hope it will not come to that. I am a dragon of peace. If it is war that is forced upon my race, then so be it. But until then, I refuse to kill unless hunting or if absolutely necessary. It grows late and I hunger. I will return with my prey in jaws.
I returned to find dark elf explorers examining my newly carved home. They were humbled by my presence. They requested knowledge. Excitedly, I told them one of the many lessons I learned, but as a riddle. They went home promising to return with an answer. This is why I came here. To teach the locals. I have always felt that I was a teacher at heart, to enlighten people, especially any variety of elves, was my life goal. And now I am fulfilling it.

Mytrith read and read. Most of it was simple, such as Lirauk’s favorite riddle that day, or how large the prey was in the mountains. One entry and everything beyond it was fascinating, and terrifying.

Today I was visited by humans in uniform. I thought they had come for information but I was wrong. They said they were from the Solstice Legion or something. They demanded that I go with them, but I simply refused. I wanted to know more about them and their goals and motives before pledging myself to them. All they would tell me was that they would take me to some citadel to speak with the High Master of the Solstice Legion. I didn’t like the sound of that, so I threatened them (Luckily they didn’t want to wait around to see if I would really attack, otherwise they would have found out I was bluffing and probably arrested me or something.) and they left.

They did it again. This time they sent soldiers, not representatives. Luckily for me, their training allowed them to only march and fight in either five man squads, or battalions. So I still managed to scare them away. I fear what will happen to me next time!

This time they sent a Special Mission Unit to attack me in the night. It’s a good thing dragons rarely sleep, or I would have been caught completely by surprise. But they fought hard. The strange thing was, they never said a word. They didn’t make a sound. One of them didn’t even grunt when I knocked him aside with my tail. I don’t know who this Solstice Legion is, but I should unite the dragons into clans once more to fight them. I know not their intentions, but I don’t think I want to find out. They fled after taking one of my books. They probably thought it was one of my journals. Thank the Mana Heart they only took a book of stories by Ikoris the Bard.

They sent someone, a Qorix. Apparently an agent. If it weren’t for the fact that I noticed the Legion’s symbol tattooed on his arm and the fact that he was asking a whole lot of odd questions, I probably would have given him all the information they needed. He told me he was one of the traveling adventurers. Thankfully I didn’t believe him.

All of the pages after that had either been torn, or burned away. The last page was still intact though. And on it was scribbled one phrase in Lirauk’s handwriting (barely recognizable because it was so rushed). It read:

When will dawn rise on this solstice night?

Mytrith was shocked. Aulur’s wings unfolded and fell to the ground. He dropped one of his potions and it splashed on the ground, shattering the vial it was in. The Qorix laughed. “I was just as surprised. I thought he was some sort of ‘all powerful all knowing’ dragon.”
Mytrith looked at him slowly. “May I see your arm?” he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.
“Heh, I can assure you, I’m not the agent.” Vithmarral replied.
“I don’t trust demons,” said Mytrith. “Just humor me, please. Show me your arm.”
“Alright,” the Qorix said, a little nervous. “Which one?”
“Both of them.”
The Qorix slowly rolled up his sleeves. Mytrith started to see something… Sure enough, he saw a wyrm skull tattooed on his arm. Instantly, before Mytrith could react, Vithmarral jumped back and said quickly, “I can explain!”
“Then explain!” Mytrith was enraged. He couldn’t believe anyone, not even a demon, would be so treacherous, especially to a dragon!
“Ok,” the Qorix said, relaxing a little because Mytrith gave him a chance. “First, does a wyrm skull really seem like the type of thing the Solstice Legion would use as their symbol? Second, the Legion’s agents always have the symbol tattooed on their left arm. Mine is on the right!”
“Fine. And what do you know about the Legion?”
“Not very much. All I know is that they’re rising to power. The imprints that Lirauk’s visitors left tell me that they’re planning to commandeer the Arena in the dark elven capital.”
Aulur then broke his silence. “But to do that, they’d have to get both Prince Norin’s and the Arena champion’s approval.”
“When are they planning to do it?” Mytrith asked Vithmarral urgently. “Do you know?”
“One month. They’re going to do it in one month.”
“Ok. We have one month to become Arena champions. Aulur, are you up to it?”
“Yes.”
“Wait!” Vithmarral exclaimed. “I want to go with you.”
“That’s the kind of thing a spy would reque-“
“WE’VE BEEN THROUGH THIS ALREADY! Now, I want to stop the Legion as much as you do. I also know more about them than you do. I can and will help! You can’t refuse. Not in this situation.”
“Fine. But you are still a demon and I still don’t trust you.”
Vithmarral sighed with relief and got up, rolling his sleeves down with his hands and using his wings as support. Aulur was jealous. He couldn’t use his wings so well. But then again, he thought, he is a demon. They had to move. Mytrith turned around and yelped with surprise. There was a man standing there, a rag tied around his head over his eyes.
“Oh,” said Vithmarral with a chuckle. “I sensed him before; I thought he was with you.”
“Well,” Mytrith said. “Obviously he isn’t. Who are you?”
“I,” said the blind man. “Am Dravin. I was sent by Kiuryth to watch over you.” Dravin had silver hair, but he looked no older than nineteen. Mytrith figured he was probably an elf. He had dark blue robes that looked solid enough to protect him, he had a dagger and a longsword, both as silver as his hair, slung at his waist, and a bow made of some incredible wood as white as snow slung on his back. The bow’s string looked like spider silk. The arrows had the same wood as the bow for the shaft, but Mytrith had no idea what the arrowheads were. So he asked. Dravin responded by saying “They are made of kraken bone, carved by my clan’s best arrow crafter. The feathers are simply white eagle feathers.”
“Wow,” Aulur said. “I wish I had a bow and arrow like that. But at least I have Truth Cutter.”
“Can Truth Cutter glide through everything as my arrows can? Can they hit the tip of a rapier from a mile away as my arrows can?”
“Uh, no. No it can’t.”
“Then, my friend, you may need my company.”
“Wait a minute,” Mytrith said with a frown. “First Vithmarral joins and now Dravin? We are not an army. We can’t carry many more. Sure, maybe one or two more, but that’s it.”
“Understood,” said Vithmarral, Aulur, and Dravin, almost in perfect unison.

***
They later reached Dragonrage again. For Vithmarral, it was a new experience. Everyone else had been to the town at least once. They simply went to grab a few supplies. They would rendezvous at the Academy, where Kiuryth said he had something for Mytrith. Aulur went to the general shop. There, he felt he was being watched. And every time he turned his head to see, he thought he saw someone look away quickly, or dash behind something. Every time, though, he couldn’t tell which member of the crowd it was. He went to the shopkeeper and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have any bark from a Songwood pine, would you?”
“No.” The storekeeper was rather blunt about this.
“Thanks anyway,” Aulur said. He was trying to be as kind as possible, since this wasn’t his town. Nobody knew him except Mytrith and the others, and he wanted to leave a good impression.
He felt the stare of another again. This time he turned so quickly, the orc had no time to hide, so he drew an elm and silver double sided blade staff. Aulur pulled out Truth Cutter. The orc threw a burning skull at Aulur, who barely had time to duck, for it moved so quickly. The orc then jumped out into the street. He then tapped his staff on the ground three times and then dug the blade of it into the dirt. When he pulled it out, an animated skeleton followed it. The orc gave the skeleton a dagger. The minion looked at Aulur for a moment, who was then frozen in his tracks. He felt as if a spider the size of a dragon were looking at him. He had heard of this. It was a gift the undead had. They could drive a human insane, any other mortals would simply be rooted to the spot in fear for several hours, or until something jolted them awake, which, sadly, was usually the undead’s weapon, doing its job quite effectively. But Aulur managed to shake himself out of it (he never thought he would thank his dragon heritage until now). The skeleton was shocked, so it went into a defensive position. Aulur knocked the undead aside with his tail. He cut and cut with his sword, each blow parried by the small yet amazingly powerful knife in the corpse’s hand. He eventually whacked the skeleton’s hand off the joint, sending it flying across the street. The minion then looked at Aulur, but it was too weak to catch Aulur again. The half-dragon delivered the final blow, and then turned to the necromancer that summoned it. He disappeared in an explosion of crows, which swarmed over Aulur. He was disappointed. Mytrith would have liked to have heard that he’d killed the orc that had troubled Kiuryth. But, he thought, he’ll be equally glad to know that the orc didn’t kill me.
Meanwhile Mytrith was looking around the store section of the Academy. Usually, the magic shops in towns were part of the Academy. This was commonly not so in the capitals, but in simple towns and cities, it was rare for the shop to be separate. He was looking for anything else he would need on the apparent journey ahead. He found something interesting. A silvery crystal unlike any he had ever seen before. He asked the shopkeeper what it was and got this as a response: “Oh, that is a fragment of crystal supposedly found near a mana vein in that abandoned mining expedition near Mount Bane. I don’t know what it’s supposed to do though. I guess it’s just rare and special or something.”
Mytrith was fascinated. “I’ll buy it,” he said.
“Ha! And how do you expect to finance this?”
Mytrith pulled out a handful of ancient dwarven coins, worth hundreds of standard coins each. “Will this cover it?”
He walked out of the Academy with the crystal in his hand. He was rubbing it, mentally focusing on it, everything he could think of to “activate” it somehow. But then, he looked up, nose to nose with a great black snake, which was wrapped around the Academy, and Mytrith would’ve tripped over it’s tail had he gone further. The snake’s jet black tongue flicked in and out, smelling the elf and his fear. Its gold and black eyes stared, seeing little, for snakes could hardly see. Its heat pits sensed the increased heat coming from Mytrith’s body. Its great black scales picked up the vibrations of the elf’s heavy breathing and increased heartbeat. Mytrith just stood there, frozen. He was grateful that a serpent’s hypnotizing eyes could not affect elves. Then the snake did something that scared Mytrith even more. It opened its mouth and spoke. It said “Are you Mytrith Karalin of Oakenbranch town?”
“Y-Yes…sir? Yes I-I am…”
“Good. I have been sent to kill you, and your companions are being attacked by others as we speak.” The snake hissed its words. Its tongue sensed everything around it. It knew the guards were sneaking up behind it. It waited until they were almost ready to swing their blades, then it knocked all but one aside with its tail, then struck the remaining one with its fangs. Mytrith threw a ball of solidified Mana at the behemoth which exploded on impact. The serpent then flew across the town, picked up and away by a passing roc.
Vithmarral, at the time, was trying to stay casual and not cause any trouble, but he was a demon, and he seemed to be the only one in town. “It’s okay, V,” he told himself quietly, “Just don’t go looking for trouble. It smells so good th-no! I will not go looking for trouble! Not now!” He just kept telling himself he would resist his nature for now, but trouble found him. Just then another Qorix landed in front of him. Everyone in the street all thought “Oh, not another one.” So they went back to their houses. Most of them. Others stayed out of curiosity as to how two demons would react to each other; others were caught in the newcomer’s web of dark magic. “Show off!” was Vithmarral’s only response.
“Heh, you try anything, and the townspeople will take the heat.” The other Qorix flexed his wings, daring Vithmarral to come after him. Then Vithmarral noticed something. He saw that the other Qorix had a picture of a sword blocking the sun tattooed on his arm. Instantly the other Qorix flattened his sleeve against his arm and said “Your eyes are far too curious.” They both drew their weapons, Vithmarral’s a shortsword from Lirauk’s hoard, and the agent’s a twisted black dagger. They flew into the air locked in close range combat. Vithmarral tried every trick he knew. He kept trying one in particular, each time he went for the agent’s wing though, his blade was parried. The agent had more up his sleeve than a tattoo though, and soon Vithmarral was dizzy from the Dreampowder the agent threw in his face. He managed to stay awake long enough to defeat the agent however, by disabling his wings he sent the enemy tumbling downward. Then, he glided down, his vision getting less clear by the second. When he landed, he fell asleep.
When all of this was happening, Dravin was shooting small nuts from the local trees off of peoples’ heads much to the enjoyment of the townsfolk. Soon though, he heard unfriendly boots on the ground. He turned at once and uttered an incantation for one of the very few spells that needed one. The enemy was ensnared by a tangle of Mana rope. When Dravin approached, he heard the unmistakable voice of an Ach’kar’ra, an amphibious race found in swamps and marshes. They were a muddy blue color, usually, and their voice was as slimy as their skin. “Shilik’ Ant’ura Khundai schelln!” was all the Ach’kar’ra could say. Dravin understood many languages including that of the Ach’kar’ra. The enemy said Stop! I speak you what want! That was the direct translation. If Dravin understood correctly, it meant to say Stop! I’ll tell you whatever you want! So Dravin listened as the attacker leaked information about the very people that hired him. He listened and asked until sunset. Then, he destroyed the memory of the meeting in the Ach’kar’ra’s mind.
“I was attacked by a snake!”
“Another Qorix attacked me!”
“Necromancers. I hate them.”
“The Ach’kar’ra told me everything we need to know.”
When Dravin said this, everyone looked at him. “Wait,” said Mytrith, shocked. “You got him to tell you something?”
“It really wasn’t very hard.” After Dravin said that, everyone burst into talk. Mostly, they were telling Dravin not to lie, but Mytrith believed him, and so he was saying how jealous he was.
Eventually, Mytrith cried out “WAIT! He’s just more experience than us. No one is to blame here. By the time we end the Solstice Legion, we’ll all be just as powerful.”
They all nodded and agreed. Then Dravin said, “We have company.”
Sure enough, Kiuryth was approaching. He held something in his hands. It was a sword, wrapped in dark purple cloth that shimmered so much it seemed made of liquid. The sword was an Elfsteel katana. He said to Mytrith, “This is my parting gift. It’s much sturdier than your old one. It is also somewhat flexible and adaptable, for it is made of Elfsteel. I hope it comes in handy on your quest. Dravin, I expect you to keep him alive.”
“I’ll try,” said Dravin. “But if I understood what you told me of him, that might be difficult.” Everyone laughed.
“Well, I must go. I should consider myself lucky I got this much time. It’s busy being an Archmage.”
They said goodbye, then approached the Rocboat tower to leave for the arena.







































Chapter 2: The Arena



The Rocboat was spacious. There was a lot of room to roam, plus an entertainment area and living quarters for long journeys like this one. Vithmarral passed the time by flying alongside the Rocs, massive black eagles. Four of them were tied to the boat, and each one had a dwarf on it. The dwarves had bronze tipped spears for behavioral control. They hoped the presence of one would be enough. They did not want to stab the birds, for bronze was lethal to them. Fortunately, Rocs were smart. The birds could sense the threat and obeyed the dwarves unquestioningly.
Aulur told stories in the entertainment area. He had no idea he was already so famous. He was known among most of the dark elves.
Dravin did not do much. He stood on the front of the boat and just stood, relishing the wind on his face, and wishing he was not blind so he could see the wonderful view.
Mytrith went to the combat area below deck. First he began to train with his sword. Then someone tapped him on the shoulder. A human in ragged gray robes and a white cloth wrapped around his shoulders, neck and face, leaving only his sky blue eyes and brown hair revealed, stood there with an amazing bow in hand.
“You look worthy of war,” he said. “Are you headed for the arena as well?”
“Yes,” said Mytrith. He wondered what this man saw that Mytrith himself didn’t. The human had used the words, “worthy of war.” Was there a war approaching? “Yes I am. Me and my companions.”
“Companions?”
“Yes. An elf, like me, a demon, and a half-dragon. The demon is somewhat trustworthy. But there’s something about him that I don’t like. Perhaps it is his nature.”
“I see. Would you like to spar with me? It would be the best training we could get.”
“That could work. But isn’t fighting banned on Rocboats?”
“Not entirely. There is a special chamber below where private fights are arranged. It’s expensive, but I have the funds, if you’re up for it.”
“Yeah, I’m ready. I accept your challenge.”

***
An hour later, Mytrith stood ready while the human, named Daram, held the bow in his hand. Strange, Mytrith thought. He doesn’t seem to have a quiver. How does he expect to shoot me if he has no arrows?
“BEGIN!” shouted the dwarf in charge of the dueling chamber. He looked like he had had the job for years, and that he had to intervene sometimes. He had many scars and his beard was permanently singed on one side.
Daram instantly pulled back the string of his bow, which was pale, almost sand colored, with many grooves carved along it, with a strange silvery liquid flowing through them. There were also some runes inscribed on the handle, but Mytrith couldn’t read them. But then Mytrith noticed something. As Daram began to pull back the string, the air around it began to shimmer and condense, focusing into a- Mytrith couldn’t believe it- shaft! Then the liquid running along the limbs quivered and the shaft was coated with a thin layer of the substance, solidifying it. All of this happened in a split second, but with Mytrith’s elven reflexes, he could watch each step happen individually.
Daram let go of the string and Mytrith was amazed first at how gracefully the arrow carved through the air, but then at the music the bow made. He forgot about the arrow, listening to the single, beautiful note the string of the bow emitted as it vibrated itself, the air around it, and the strange substance along the bow’s limbs, which quivered like water. But he only listened for a split second, because after he felt a sharp pain and found himself pinned against the wall, he realized what had happened. He was defenseless. His sword was halfway across the room where he had been standing. He had dropped it on impact with the shimmering, silver arrow. He looked up and saw Daram walking towards him. He reached up and pulled the arrow out of Mytrith’s shoulder and the wall.
“I was weak to it too, once,” Daram said with a chuckle. “The music. That’s why I practiced months before I was sure I was immune to it.”
“How does it do that?” Mytrith managed to say. He was still in shock from the arrow’s impact. “The music and the arrows.”
“Haha! That’s how I designed it. It’s my unique weapon, the Harbinger.”
Mytrith was suddenly more jealous than he was a few seconds ago. He saw unique weapons all over the place, and he wanted one of his own. But suddenly, the boat lurched. They both ran upstairs to see what was going on. Two Aeriks were attacking. Aeriks were great serpents that glided through the air as if they were swimming. The females were like massive snakes ranging from dull green and brown to gray in color. The males had the heads of vipers, but the necks broke off into tentacle-like arms. They were usually a grayish blue color. Both were poisonous. They lived in colonies of usually five pairs plus eggs or young. The Rocboat was being attacked by a hunting party, a male and a female. To make it even worse, they only hunted during thunderstorms. Everyone in Mytrith’s party was already fighting. Vithmarral and Aulur flying up to engage the creatures in melee, while Dravin stood back alternating between shooting his bow, and launching bolts of magic at them. Daram instantly pulled back the string of the Harbinger, and again it created its own arrow to fire. Then everyone noticed something. The male wasn’t present. Mytrith knew it hadn’t been slain, because everyone noticed it, and if it was then the one responsible would at least keep fighting. Even the other Aerik stopped.
Then Mytrith’s elven reflexes kicked in. If he had time to think about it, he would have known then and there where the male was. But he just instinctively pulled out his new sword and swung. He heard a hissing screech and a thump at his feet. Without knowing it, he had cut off the tip of one of its tentacles. The infuriated creature lunged forward with its fangs. It was too fast though, even for an elf. Its teeth sunk into Mytrith’s arm. With his other arm, he punched hard. The Aerik recoiled and flew quickly away, followed closely by the female. Mytrith was dizzy. He remembered Daram, Aulur, Dravin, and Vithmarral plus a few dwarves standing over him, saying something. Then he blacked out.

***

He woke up still dizzy. His arm was throbbing. Aulur sat on the bed next to him, his wings drooped. But when he saw Mytrith wake up, he raised his wings and shouted, letting everyone know how happy he was. Mytrith didn’t remember anything of what happened with the Aeriks. He wasn’t sure why he was in the medic room. So he asked Aulur.
“You don’t remember? It was amazing! Two Aeriks attacked and one of them bit you! You’re lucky this boat has medics, or you’d be dead right now. It’s been days!” The half-dragon talked so fast and excitedly that he had to repeat it two more times until Mytrith could understand him. That, and Mytrith was just too dazed to understand much of anything at the moment.
“Wait a minute,” Mytrith said when he could finally think straight. “Days? How much longer until we reach the capital?”
“It should be only a few hours. It’s no problem.”
“Good. Will I recover in time?”
“You already have.”
“Really?” Mytrith could neither believe it, nor complain. He and his group decided that they would all fight in the Arena, that way they had a better chance to win. “Well, that’s good. Any other problems you can see?”
“Not unless Riahka has anything to say about it.” Riahka was the dark elf god of luck. When things weren’t going the way someone planned, they would either blame and get mad at, or pray to Riahka.

***

Sure enough, in four and a half hours, they reached Kundral, the dark elf capital. Almost everything in the city was made of polished black marble. The wood was always polished ebony. Most metal things, such as doorknobs, were obsidian, or jet. In short, the dark elves made as much of Kundral black as possible. Vithmarral couldn’t complain. Demons typically enjoyed black. It reminded them of their home, the Arcane Scar. This area was the birthplace of demons. If it weren’t for two incredibly powerful sorcerers dueling in that area and scarring the surface of the world with their dark magic, demons would not exist.
Dravin could not see the black, but he could hear the marble. He could hear every side conversation on that street. He could hear the moth fluttering near a lamp on the other side of the city. So of course, he could hear the chanting and fighting of the arena.
Daram had been there before. He knew what to expect. He didn’t even bother to look around. He just focused on perfecting his battle strategies at the last minute. He kept twanging the Harbinger’s string to hear the sweet, sharp music it played.
Aulur and Mytrith, however, had never been to the city before. They had no idea what to expect. They couldn’t perceive it like Vithmarral or Dravin could. They had to experience the shock of sudden darkness. The city was also on the edge of Nightwood forest, so that made it even darker. They were tempted to spread out and just see the sights to be seen in Kundral, but they had to get to the arena as quickly as possible.
“My friends and I would like to sign up for the Kundral Dark Elven Arena please,” said Mytrith.
“Right. I can sign you up quick. Your names?”
“Mytrith, Aulur, Vithmarral, Dravin, and Daram.” Each time he said a name, he pointed at the one whose name that was.
“Right. Well, enjoy yourselves. Remember, in the preparation chamber, there’s a shop. Feel free to buy anything he’s got. He cannot deny you if you want something, but he gets to choose the price. Have fun. I hope you don’t die.”
The last few words the man said sent a chill down Mytrith’s spine. He was sure everyone else realized it too: what they were doing was incredibly dangerous!
Mytrith walked into the preparation chamber. It was quite a large room. He immediately went to the shopkeeper. “What do you have?”
“Well, how much are you willing to pay?”
“Six dwarven coins.” Mytrith was glad he still had a few left.
“Wow. Well, there are a few things, so what sort of thing are you looking for?”
“Swords. Any light swords.”
“Are you interested in unique weapons?”
“Well, I want my own. That’s the thing.”
“Well, you could buy anything you like.”
Then Mytrith saw something on the shelf. A black rock with a strange purple rune on it. “What is that?”
“That? I’m not sure what that is. You want it?”
“Yes! All six coins!”
“Deal!”
Mytrith walked away with the rock in his hand. Then, he heard a whisper, echoing in his head.
“You seek power…everyone does…admit it or not…I can give you power, elf…I can give you the power to slay a hundred dragons with the flick of a wrist…”
Mytrith dropped the stone. It clattered on the ground. The whispers stopped. He quickly grabbed the stone and put it in his pocket.
“Hey, Mytrith, do you know where there are any alchemists?” It was Aulur speaking.
“No. Sorry. But why would I know any more than you do? Talk to Daram, I think he’s been here before.” Then Mytrith realized, maybe in Aulur’s travels, he had heard of stones like the one in his pocket. “Aulur wait!”
“Yes?”
“While you were traveling the world, did you find any rocks that talk?”
“No. There’s no such thing. Earth golems and earth elementals don’t count.”
“No, it’s neither of those. It’s just, a rock.”
“And, it talked to you?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Mytrith, you’re just…the poison’s still affecting you. It’s messing with your head.”
“Are you sure? Here hold it.” With that he quickly pulled the stone out of his pocket and gave it to Aulur. He did not want to hear it again. Just touching it gave him the creeps.
“Whoa!” Aulur said after a couple of seconds. “It does talk! But it promises a lot of power, and that’s bad. Inanimate objects shouldn’t promise power, unless it’s a legendary weapon, and even then, the item its self shouldn’t personally talk to you. We had better figure out what it is!”
“Maybe I can help. I’ve seen a lot of weird things in my life.”
Mytrith jumped and turned around. “Who are you, and how did you sneak up on me like that?”
“My name is Zoe, if that’s what you’re asking, and as for the sneaking up part, let’s just say I’ve had a lot of time to practice.” Zoe looked about 17 years old, and she was human.
“Okay, so what do you think this thing is?” Mytrith asked.
“Can I see it?”
“Of course. Careful, don’t let it trick you. Whatever it says, it’s probably a lie.”
“I’m not so sure. From the looks of it, it appears to be some sort of rune stone. Although what kind it is is beyond me. I’m no mage. Maybe it has something to do with the Mana Heart.”
“Perhaps, but I still think it’s danger-…” He didn’t get to finish.
“Mytrith! Is a Mytrith present?”
“Yes! That’s me!”
“You’re up. Try not to get killed.”
Mytrith gulped at those last words. “Thanks. That makes me feel much better.” He wanted to say that but he had to prepare. The gate was opening now. He could hear the chanting of the crowd. He could see the signs of battle all over the ground. He could hear the stone, though it was not speaking to him. Its words echoed back to him, and he wished he had that kind of power at that moment.
A gate on the other side of the arena opened up. A great black spider crawled out. It sprayed web at Mytrith, who cut through most of it with his katana. The rest however sent him flying against the wall, like the Harbinger’s arrow did. He was stuck.
Then, the wind seemed to gain a heartbeat. The crowd went silent and stared upward. First Mytrith had no idea what was going on. Then he looked up and a ping of fear ran through him. Hovering above the arena was the massive winged form of the wyrm he had fought in the mountains. It had been a week already. He had not realized until now how long the journey on the Rocboat was. The creature roared so loudly that all of Nightwood forest seemed to shiver. Then the spider cowered in a corner, leaving Mytrith alone to fight the beast. The wyrm sprayed the poison again, but this time it was far enough away for Mytrith to react and close his eyes. He tried to wipe the liquid away before opening them again, but forgot he was webbed to the wall. He tried as hard as he could. His adrenaline flowed through him, and he had enough strength to break the web. He wiped his face on his sleeve, picked up his sword and prepared himself to slay the beast. It began haloing above the arena, breathing fire as it swooped overhead. Mytrith’s clothes were singed. He tapped into a Mana vein and cast a spell which filled the air with a moist atmosphere. The creature’s fire was not useless, however, only hindered. Mytrith used this weakness to his advantage. He tried to jump onto the wyrm when it swooped in the burn the area, and Mytrith. The reptile’s talon was just within reach; Mytrith’s finger’s grazed the surface of the keratin, but could not gain a grip. He fell, back into the restriction of the arena. Mytrith just then got an idea.
He readied his magical projectile, and waited. The wyrm kept haloing over the arena, not sweeping the area with fire. He waited, and waited, fearing the creature sensed his scheme. But then, it hovered closer to the arena and prepared for a massive burst of fire. Mytrith reacted just in time. Had he begun a second earlier, he would have failed. Had he hesitated for a second more, he would have burned. But he didn’t. His perfect reaction was one of his first great deeds. He shot forth the projectile, just as the beast straightened its neck for its fiery burst. It traveled quickly down the throat of the beast and killed it. It crashed to the ground, crushing the spider beneath it. Everyone started cheering very loudly, but Mytrith was unaware of that. The fight had left him exhausted. He was dizzy, everything was blurring and spinning. He fell in the center of the ring of sand, unconscious.

***

Aulur, Vithmarral, Dravin, and a few dark elves stood over him, waiting for him to awake. Everything blurred into place, and he was awake, but his mind and his body were still throbbing. His clothes were burned and his skin was blistered. His hair was singed and his sword was charred and blackened. But he felt worse than he looked.
“He’s awake. He’ll be fine,” one of the dark elves said. He was apparently a medic, but also apparently didn’t care much about his job. He walked away, with the rest of the dark elves.
“Are you ok, Mytrith?” asked Aulur.
“Yes, I think so. Any news?”
“Yes. Daram is in the Arena right now.”
“How is he doing?”
“Good. He’s on to the second round.”
Mytrith was disappointed. He had failed to reach the second round, yet Daram had. His thoughts must have shown on his face, because Aulur seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.
“Don’t feel bad. He’s been here before, remember?”
“Yes. Still, I was hoping I’d do better.”
“You killed a wyrm, Mytrith. The Arena doesn’t release wyrms until the sixth round. And even then they aren’t adults. It’s possible Daram hasn’t even killed one.” Mytrith cheered up a bit when he realized this was true.
Mytrith, Aulur, Vithmarral, and Dravin all went to the stands to watch and cheer on their companion in the arena. Daram had a sword out; the Harbinger was on his back. He was fighting off a group of zombies. Some were simply pale bodies, vacant of the breath of life. Others seemed older, as if they had died earlier. All of them were quick and strong. Mytrith found it amazing how powerful corpses were when cursed with undeath. Daram was slower and weaker, for he was only human, but resourceful and always thinking of new strategies; always adapting to his opponents movement.
With a flurry of strikes and lunges, a group of the zombies lay dead again, the others anticipated Daram’s plan and jumped back when he reached them, throwing him off balance. They approached their opponent. He blasted them against the wall with magic. They still got up. Daram held them in place with magic, then put his sword away and reached back and grasped the Harbinger. He pulled back the string and it formed its own arrow again. He pinned the zombies to the wall with an arrow each. Then he finished them off with his sword. The crowd went wild. Daram simply walked out of the Arena. Mytrith and Aulur returned to the preparation chamber. Daram was there, examining a small wound on his forearm.
“Congratulations, Daram!” Mytrith exclaimed.
“I did terribly,” was Daram’s only response.
“What are you talking about?” argued Aulur. “You were great! I’ve never seen someone with that kind of skill!”
“You call that skill? Look at the champion! I killed them faster the first time I came here! I should be improving not worsening! And I was wounded! They shouldn’t have touched me! That was not skill.” He walked away without another word.
“You think he’ll be okay?” asked Aulur.
“I don’t know. We should give him some time, he’ll cheer up. Who’s next?”
“I am.”
“Well, good luck then, my friend.”
“I don’t know. It’s a spider, and I won’t have a wyrm to distract me.”
“You did fine in the mountains.”
“Ya, let’s hope I can do that again.”

Aulur walked into the Arena and greeted the crowd’s cheering with a flex of his wings and a twitch of his tail. He pulled out Truth Cutter. The spider was released and Aulur paled. The crowd noticed this and many felt sorry, but they still went to the Arena to watch fights. The spider scurried towards Aulur, its fangs glistening. Each step it took drove Aulur closer to the edge. When he fell off, he went berserk. A battle cry broke loose from his throat. He went into a mad flurry of slashes, lunges, and kicks. The spider retreated to the wall, followed by a slashing Aulur. When it was cornered, it shrieked. Aulur still approached. In a split second, the creature bit Aulur. He dropped his sword and fell to the ground. The spider rose to strike again. But at that instant, it died from the wounds inflicted on it from Aulur. A group of dark elf guards and medics rushed out and carried Aulur back in. Mytrith rushed into the preparation chamber to see if Aulur was okay. He was clutching the bitten arm and sweating.
“Aulur? Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry elf, but he’s been badly poisoned. He may still be moving, but he’s unconscious right now, He’s completely unaware of anything.”
Soon the others, even Daram, rushed in to see if Aulur was okay. They sat and waited for hours. He finally woke up.
“D-did I win?”
“Yes, you did, but it bit you.”
“Am I okay?”
“Only you can answer that.”
Aulur looked like he was trying to do something, struggling. “I can’t move my arm.”
“That’s okay. There are others. Who’s next?”
“I believe I am,” said Vithmarral. With that, he drew his blade and walked out.
“Let’s watch him. Aulur, can you come along?”
“Yes, I think I can walk.”
Sure enough he could make it. They all managed to reach the stands. Mytrith thought he saw Daram on the other side of the Arena watching, noting Vithmarral’s performance. Prince Norin, the leader of the dark elves, approached the edge of his observation platform, elevated above the others. He raised his hand to quiet the Arena down. He spoke loudly so all could hear.
“It is quite the treat we have here today. We have not had a demon participate in a month other than the champion.” Mytrith took note of the last few words. The champion of the Arena was a demon. “I have a little deal to offer him. But first let’s cheer him on; I think he’s earned it!” The crowd cheered again until Norin raised his hand. “It is bold of you, to come here. You are of course welcome here, but most places do not take kindly to demons. It was like a round all its own gathering the courage to come here. So, I say we reward him, with an opportunity.” Norin leaped out, over the crowd and elegantly and acrobatically landed on his feet in the middle of the Arena in front of Vithmarral. The crowd went wild. Mytrith saw Norin and Vithmarral talking amongst the noise. Soon, Norin raised his hand again, and silence once again fell over the crowd. “He has accepted my offer. He will fight me, and if he wins, he will gain credit for the first through fifteenth round!” The crowd started to cheer so loud that Dravin left covering bleeding ears. Even Mytrith and Aulur cheered. Mytrith thought he even saw Daram smile and start clapping, but it was hard to tell if he was grinning, for he still wore the cloth over his face. Norin drew his blade, a short sword with a greenish tint, and walked to the other side of the Arena. Vithmarral shot forward with his wings, dagger first. Norin waited until Vithmarral was an inch away, and then caught the dagger between two fingers. Vithmarral vaulted upwards as a result of Norin’s counter, but Norin grabbed his wrist, threw him to the ground and pinned his wings and arms to the ground, sword at his neck.
“I win.” The crowd cheered and started chanting Norin’s name.
“I don’t think so!” Vithmarral launched his leg up, knocked Norin’s sword aside, and kicked away his legs, freeing him entirely. Half the crowd stopped chanting Norin’s name, and of that half, half began to chant “demon.” Norin sheathed his sword and held up his hands, but not in surrender, preparing for hand-to-hand combat. Vithmarral did the same, flexing his wings to taunt Norin. They were evenly matched in hand-to-hand combat, but then Vithmarral started striking forward with his wings. Norin’s shirt was getting torn, and the claws on Vithmarral’s wings slashed at his skin. Norin executed an uppercut and sent Vithmarral flying into the air, then jumped above him and slammed him back down to the ground. Another display of dark elven agility and strength.
Vithmarral clenched his fist and began to speak the dark tongue of demons. The ground opened up into black, yet fiery ravines. All manner of lesser demons came out, from imps to hellhounds. The fiends advanced on Norin and backed him against a wall. One of the hellhounds unleashed a terrifying howl and the majority of the crowd fled at the sound of the nightmarish creature. The demons stepped closer and closer and closer. Norin began to panic, realizing that he was no match for a swarm of demons. Norin fainted, but Vithmarral wasn’t stopping. His darker side had taken over him. But an elf ran out into the Arena. She began to fight Vithmarral until she got a blow in at his stomach and knocked the wind out of him. The demons that had reached Norin, crawled back into the ravines, and they closed, leaving no indication that they ever existed. Vithmarral got up, his wings drooping. Mytrith ran and leaped into the Arena. He rushed to see if Vithmarral was alright, then to thank the stranger.
“Are you okay, Vithmarral?”
“Yes, I-I think s-so.” He was in pain, but Mytrith doubted it was from the elf or the fight with Norin.
“Thanks, stranger, I don’t know what would’ve happened to my friend had he kept those rifts open.”
“You’re welcome.” When she said that Mytrith was amazed. He knew at once who she was.
“You-you’re Princess Elin!”
“Yes. Who did you think I was?”
“Nobody, really. I thought you were just someone from the crowd who knew what to do.”
“Well, I was part of the crowd, but when he opened up those rifts, I ran to the preparation room to ask a guard if it was legal to run out here. He said no.”
“Then why are you out here?”
“I couldn’t let Norin die! I’m here as a diplomat, and what would it do to the relations between the elves and dark elves if an elf, me especially, let Norin die?”
“That’s a pretty good reason.”
Soon everyone rushed out, even Daram.
“Is he okay?” asked Dravin, who’s ears were bandaged.
“Yes, he’s fine.”
Elin walked away, saying, “I have to go to the Palace to contact Norin’s council, because obviously, he’s preoccupied at the moment.”
“Thanks again!”
“You’re welcome. Make sure it doesn’t happen again. It could leave a large mess to clean up.”
Mytrith shivered at the thought of what Vithmarral could do. Elin walked away. Soon Norin came to. He held up his hands in surrender. Mytrith got his first good look at Norin. He looked exactly like any dark elf, pale skin, black hair, and red eyes. Some dark elves had purple eyes.
“Are you okay?” asked Mytrith.
“I-I think so…”
Vithmarral approached, wings still drooping. He held out his hand and apologized. Norin shook hands and forgave Vithmarral. Mytrith was awestruck. He had met royalty, a prince and a princess in one day. Daram made sure everyone was okay, then left. Mytrith followed him. Daram walked back into the preparation chamber, pulled out his water skin, sat down, took a sip, and then asked, “Why did you follow me?”
“I want to know why you don’t seem to care about anything right now.”
“Because compassion causes distraction. Friendship is compassion. I thought I could manage it, so that’s why I didn’t walk away when we first arrived. I was experimenting. But I was wrong. You guys are still my friends. I just have to pretend not to care while we’re here. Otherwise, I’ll never reach the champion in a month.”
“I see.” Then something occurred to Mytrith. He never told Daram what their goal was, yet he seemed to know. “How did you know we needed to be champion in a month?”
“Aulur told me. I know everything the rest of you do now. And believe me; you’re going to need my help. That’s why I decided to stick around. I like you guys, you’re my friends. I wanted to help.”
“When was all this taking place?”
“When you were unconscious on the Rocboat. But everything’s alright. You’ve got a demon, an incredibly skilled elf, Truth Cutter in the hands of a half-dragon, and the Harbinger, in the hands of a friendly human. Best of all though, you have infallible friends. No matter what this Solstice Legion throws at you, I think I speak for all of us when I say we’ve got your back. We’ll be there ‘til the end, Mytrith. You can count on that.”
Mytrith didn’t know what to say, other than “Thank you.” But that didn’t seem like enough.
“You know, I think Dravin decided to wait. I think it’s your turn.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Well, thanks again for the words of encouragement.”
“You’re Welcome.”
Mytrith stepped out into the arena for the second time. He told himself he’d try not to faint this time. The air grew colder, darker, and overall bleaker. Clouds rolled over the sky, blanketing the arena in a dreary grey shade. Mytrith’s breath became visible as clouds of white among the grey. Mytrith suddenly found himself shivering cold, as if a giant icy hand were gripping him. He filled with a sudden dread that weighed him down, and his sword felt twice as heavy. He had never fought an undead before. He did know from his studies that zombies affected the atmosphere more than skeletons, but other than that, this was the weakest dread brought about by undead. Compared to ghosts and ghouls, zombies perked things up. Soon the gate holding the corpses back opened. It seemed to Mytrith that it was moving at an incredibly slow rate. He saw the gleam of their eyes before he saw the undead themselves. Soon, they limped, crawled, or leaped their way into the Arena. One of them, missing both of its arms, charged at Mytrith, very quickly. It planned to knock him over, making him vulnerable to the zombie and its allies. He reacted just in time, thanks to his elven reflexes. He tore his sword out of its sheath and swung in a circle. He met some resistance when he hit the zombie, but not enough to stop the Elfsteel blade. The foe fell to the ground, slashed in two. There were still four more.
Mytrith put his sword in its sheath, and then called upon magic. He intended to have tendrils of mana reach up, out of the ground and snare the zombies, pulling them into the earth. Instead, what happened was a strange, translucent silvery creature appeared. It had a bulky upper torso, but its lower body trailed off into a pillar connected to an area of writhing tendrils at the bottom. It had no mouth and its eyes glowed with bright blue energy its hands had four clawed fingers, the claws more like sharp extensions of the fingers then a separate part. Mytrith was stunned. The creature drifted over to the zombies and glowed. The glow was powerful; Mytrith had to shield his eyes. The zombies recoiled and shriveled up. They were still “alive”, but they couldn’t move. They were immobilized. The creature looked at Mytrith, and then gestured towards the corpses. When he did nothing, the material that made up its right arm shifted and shimmered, it changed form into a blade protruding from its arm. The blade was less translucent than the rest of the creature, as if more solid. It swung the blade at the zombies, but the blade shimmered and breezed right through the zombie without leaving a scratch. The blade then shifted back into a hand and the creature gestured again. Mytrith understood. It wanted Mytrith to kill the zombies. It wasn’t going to do all of the work for him. Mytrith drew his blade, but when he approached the creature, he reached out to touch it. It burned like ice, but harsher, and somehow different. His hand was coated in a silvery liquid. Mana. He had no idea what the creature was. He finished the rest of the zombies, and then approached the creature. It shimmered, and then melted back into the ground. The crowd erupted into cheers.
Mytrith was still stunned. But he was ready for the next round, so he lifted his sword, now lighter weight because the zombies’ influence died with them. He had no idea what lay ahead of him now. The gate opened. A strange six legged reptile with writhing tentacles, all tipped with a stinger that Mytrith assumed were poisonous, crawled out, followed closely by four more. The first one was larger and its tentacles seemed stronger. Mytrith thought it was the alpha of the pack. Whatever these things were, he thought he could handle them. Then he felt dizzy and his vision blurred. He blinked several times and when his vision refocused, the crowd died down and he was in a forest. The creatures were nowhere to be seen. Now he knew what they were. Dreamstalkers. They would eat the dreams of sleeping, and then eat the dreamer, but if their prey was awake, they had the power to induce a vision like a dream. The Dreamstalkers could eat the visions they induced, but they could still hunt their prey through the hallucinatory world. Mytrith knew a spell that would help. He cast it, then closed his eyes. Though his eyes remained closed, vision shimmered into place, slightly blurry and dull silver in color. He saw the Dreamstalkers, without the spell they would be invisible. They were climbing one of the trees. They were powerful enough to create a solid vision they could interact with, to make it more believable, driving their prey insane usually. The leader stopped, but the rest kept moving, splitting up until each had its own branch. Mytrith held his sword out. He was glad he could feel the position of his body better than any human, because he saw neither himself nor his sword in the magic view.
The creatures communicated through an assortment of hisses. They hissed with surprise when they discovered that their prey had learned where they were. They leaped. Mytrith stabbed the alpha, but he knew it would take more than that to kill it. The rest met him with no resistance. They tackled Mytrith and he was beneath four Dreamstalkers. They were raking him with their stingers. He managed to shove them off. They backed away. Mytrith was confused. He didn’t think Dreamstalkers were the type of creature to back away from a fight. Then something occurred to him. He wheeled around sword out. It was too late. The alpha batted his sword out of his hand and lunged forward with its tentacles. Mytrith ducked just in time. He looked up and saw the stingers where his head was seconds ago. He swung his leg under the Dreamstalker’s and tripped it. He rolled out of the way of the falling stingers. He pulled his sword to him with magic. He held the sword high above his head, and then brought it down on the alpha. He turned to the other members of the pack. They hissed with fear then fled through the forest dream. They would leave the dream elsewhere, out of danger, but they left Mytrith an opening, encouraging him to leave the realm they were in.
He walked out. The crowd was already cheering, which made Mytrith wonder, could they see what was happening in the dream? He held his sword high and prepared for the next round. The gate opened. A humanoid beast made of what looked like clay walked in. It spoke, its voice like the earth it was made of. The problem was, Mytrith couldn’t understand what it said. He raised his sword. It spoke again, but this time it sounded different. It slammed the ground and a row of spikes made of stone jutted up out of the ground and extended towards Mytrith. He jumped in time landed to the side. He blasted the thing with magic which forced it to pull its arms, and in turn its control, out of the ground. The spikes sunk back into the ground. He slashed the creature in half, but the clay just shifted into two smaller creatures. One of them kicked him away, then they both reformed into the creature. It did something odd. It pulled its arm back into itself, but it didn’t seem to get any bigger, so instead of absorbing the clay, it must have shifted the mass elsewhere. But where? That was the question that burned in Mytrith’s mind and made him worry. But four seconds later, his question was answered. A clay fist leaped out of the ground at Mytrith. He swung his sword. He slashed the hand in half so that passed alongside his head instead of impacting with it. The clay returned to the beast and turned back into an arm. Mytrith was starting to get an idea of what he was facing. An Earth golem. They were weaker then elementals, but still very powerful creatures of magic, linked to a particular element, like elementals. Golems were difficult to kill. They would be harder to kill than elementals were it not for the elementals sheer power. To kill a golem, you had to strike a particular part of its body. The critical area depended on the element. He had to remember what area was fatal if struck on an Earth golem. It began to hurl chunks of very solid clay at Mytrith. He had to duck because he knew his sword could not cut through them; it would break. He remembered. It was the head. He leaped into the air and drove his blade into its head. It knocked him off, but it was too late. It began to crumble, and soon it was a pile of clay rocks with his sword still sticking out of one. He pulled it out easily, now that the clay was much softer.
He raised his sword and a crazy idea occurred to him, but it quickly went to the back of his mind. The crowd cheered. The gate to the preparation chamber opened and Dravin rushed out.
“May I make a request?”
Mytrith thought he knew what it was. “Sure.”
“May I please fight now? I think it’s great that you’ve come this far, but we need someone else far enough ahead to have a chance at competing for champion.”
“Right. But what about the others?”
“Aulur refuses for two reasons: they might send another spider, and he wants you to have as much chance as possible. Daram refuses because he needs to train for next year a lot more, starting now. Vithmarral fears another mishap may come if he goes out there again.”
“Very well. You’re up. Good luck.”
“Thank you, Mytrith.”


***

Mytrith watched from the stands as Dravin hunted the hunting Dreamstalkers through the hallucinatory forest. Now he knew, they could see through the dream. Dravin pulled back the string of his bow, and Mytrith half expected to see it form its own arrow, like the Harbinger, then noticed that he had grabbed the arrow as his hand approached the bow. He struck the alpha with pinpoint accuracy with only a split second of aim. The crowd cheered as the rest of the pack fled, and let Dravin leave. As soon as he did, the sight of the dream forest vanished. When the gate opened revealing the Earth golem, he threw a dagger and struck it, and listened as it crumbled into mere clay.
Mytrith was disappointed. Then he remembered that Dravin heard him defeat it. The gate opened again, Dravin grabbed an arrow and pulled back the string of his bow slightly. Mytrith gasped as a large bright red and green rooster came out. It had claws on its wings and its beak was much sharper and more wicked than an ordinary rooster’s. It had a tail like a lizard’s. It was the height of a human and it had a cloth tied over its eyes. It shrieked, revealing a purple tongue, similar to a wyrm’s, and greenish tinted saliva. It was a cockatrice. It sniffed the air, trying to get an idea as to where Dravin was, since it couldn’t see. Then it sprayed a green liquid, thicker and darker colored than its saliva. This was the poison that made their bite deadly. Dravin threw up his cloak, ensuring that none of the foul liquid made contact with his skin. Then he pulled out his sword, knowing that if he used his bow, the bird would only snap it in half. His sword would not break. Not to a cockatrice, at least. He swung his sword, and the blade met one of the cockatrice’s claws. It shrieked and clacked its beak, trying to bite Dravin, but to no avail. He kicked the creature back, threw a dagger to keep it occupied, and then did something that startled Mytrith. He pulled the cloth off of his head and threw it to the ground, revealing silver eyes. Mytrith was confused. Why had Dravin removed the cloth covering his eyes? It wouldn’t have made a difference if he was blind as Mytrith thought. Now he raised his sword again, and waited. The cockatrice got up, and charged him. When the creature was in range, he began to swing his sword in a flurry so rapid, it looked like a blur, as if the blade had become an orb of deadly atmosphere. The cockatrice was slashed once, then it staggered back. Then Dravin raised his hand and a cone of flame shot out from his palm, enveloping his opponent. He then left the Arena, picking up the cloth and retying it as he left. Mytrith ran down to meet him.
“Why did you take off the cloth? What difference does it make if you’re blind?”
“Who told you I was blind?”
“Well…I, uh, sort of assumed that…”
“No, I’m not blind. I gave my self Mana Sight. It’s like how you saw the Dreamstalkers only far more powerful, and permanent. I use it when I need speed and accuracy at the same time. I can also see mana veins with it, allowing me to know if I have to work harder to tap into one in case I’m about the use a powerful spell.”
“Like that cone of fire?”
“No, something much more powerful than that. Something like, summoning an exact replica of a dragon, with everything working.”
“Is that even possible?”
“It is if you’ve had as much training as I have, and even then it’s difficult. I’d need to make sure I tap into mana veins only very close to the surface, or the effort would kill me. Mana Sight also makes it less difficult to tap into the mana veins.”
Mytrith was awestruck. It never occurred to him that Dravin could see, let alone that he had that ability. He knew that he had missed some knowledge of magic from leaving the academy, but not this. He wondered if Kiuryth knew about this. He probably did. He was an Archmage. He probably knew everything about magic that mortals knew. I probably just didn’t learn it because of my early graduation, Mytrith thought.
He decided to head back to the room the Arena provided him, since none of his companions were up next. He opened the door to find a human looking through his belongings. She had several jewels in her hands, some of which Mytrith recognized as his own, others were his companions, like Dravin’s amulet, but others he did not recognize. He silently closed the door. But not silently enough. She snapped her head around to see the one who had caught her. It was Zoe, the human he had talked with about the rock, which he noticed she was carrying as well.
“I, uh…” she said in a flustered voice. “I’m returning these things! See, someone else stole them, and I, uh…caught them! Ya, so I’m giving these things back.” She ended with a nervous laugh.
“How do you know those were mine? I wasn’t wearing them when we met. Out of all of that which you have in your hands, all I was wearing was that ring. Other than that you seem to know exactly which ones are mine.”
She said nothing, then quickly bolted out the door, stuffing the jewels into her pocket. Mytrith did not have to go far to outrun her. He was an elf, she was human. He grabbed her arm and forced her to stop. She willingly gave in, but he noticed that she was still tense, and her other hand was reaching towards the hilt of her dagger.
“Don’t do that,” Mytrith said, in a calm yet tense voice. He wasn’t about to fight her. He might accidentally hurt her, and he only wanted his gems, and those of his companions back. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, other than his opponents, and she was not his opponent. Not for now, at least.
“I suppose you want your valuables back?” she asked.
“Yes, and my companions’. And if they ask me about any missing items, I’ll know it was you, so give them all back, just to be safe.”
“And the stone? You said it creeped you out, and I’d be happy to remove such a source of stress.”
“I may not be comfortable around it, but I still want to know what it is, and I will carry it until I do. Besides, it may help against the Solstice Legion.”
She reluctantly handed everything over, but with an air of excitement. She asked very excitedly, “Did you say the Solstice Legion?”
“I take it they’re not friends of yours either?”
“No, as a matter of fact they aren’t.”
“Did you take something from them too?”
“No! No, that’s not it at all!”
“What is it then? Or, do I want to know?”
“All I did was disrupt one of their plans.”
“How did you do that?”
“It’s a long story. Anyways, if we’re both opposing the Legion, and you’re here to oppose the Legion, although I’m not sure how you’re doing that, Perhaps, we could work together.”
“Perhaps. We’ll see what the others think.”

***

“No! Absolutely not!” argued Daram, infuriated at the idea of teaming up with someone who had just tried to steal something from him.
Vithmarral said calmly, “I know the whole distrust thing, trust me, I’m a demon, I’m the target of it more than 80% of the time, but I’m still loyal, whether you trust me or not. Mytrith still doesn’t trust me, but he lets me stay knowing that I am as loyal as the rest. I say we let her decide.”
“I sense no intent of treachery from her. I say she is safe,” Dravin said.
Daram argued, “You ‘sense’ nothing? I use magic and I still think that’s ridiculous.”
An argument broke out. Aulur shouted over everyone, “HEY! I think… that she shouldn’t come.” Daram muttered agreement. “But, Mytrith is the leader, so he has the biggest influence. If he says she stays, then it is so. If he says that she is not to come, then we will continue on our own. What do you say Mytrith?”
Mytrith was amazed. He had no idea that the others considered him their leader. Now he felt more pressure than ever. He thought long and hard. He finally decided, “She can stay. BUT! If she steals anything without valid reason, we will leave her behind.”
Daram, murmured to himself, Vithmarral grinned and welcomed Zoe, Dravin nodded and Aulur looked at Mytrith with a look of agreement.
“Now, there’s one final matter to attend to,” said Mytrith with a sigh of relief. He was surprised at how much pressure that decision was. “Zoe, will you fight in the Arena to become champion?”
“I have one question, and an answer to yours. First, my own question. Why do we need to be champion?”
“The Solstice Legion is seeking to gain control of the Arena, and they’d need the approval of Norin and the champion, and we can’t count on Norin. So, one of us needs to be champion, to deny them.”
“I see. Well, I still say no, I will not fight. I always do better when my enemy doesn’t know where I am, and in the Arena there’s no chance of ambush.”
“Very well. I’m up next then.” Mytrith did not want to fight a cockatrice, but it was necessary to deny the Legion.
He walked into the Arena sword in hand. He watched with anticipation as the gate opened, revealing another cockatrice, exactly like the one Dravin fought only its eyes were revealed. Mytrith was about to shield his eyes from the bird’s deadly gaze, but he noticed it was blind, so he did not need to worry. It flew across the Arena at Mytrith, shrieking. He held his sword outwards toward the leaping bird. He was knocked over by the force of its impact. His sword was knocked out of his hands. He looked up and found the cockatrice lying on its side, his sword jutting out of it. He was relieved. It was easier than he had thought. He had even won with more ease than Dravin had. He retrieved his sword and prepared for the next round. The gate opened. Mytrith gasped as he saw what walked out. A wyrm, its gray scaled tail swishing across the ground. Its horns were polished as were its ivory claws. It roared revealing its sharply pointed teeth and purple tongue. The green poison that was sprayed at the wyrms prey as well as ignited to create the flame they shot forth dripped from its maw like saliva. It was small, a juvenile, but it was still a formidable foe. Mytrith raised his sword with a gulp. He knew he shouldn’t have worried; he’d killed an adult one before, but that one was wild, this one was trained for combat, raised on it. It launched forward, its wings folded. When it got close it snapped them open and snapped its tail down, launching it into the air. Its tail smacked Mytrith in the face and knocked him over. It hovered right where a ceiling would be if the Arena had one. It swept the Arena with fire. Mytrith used magic to bring up a dome of rock around him. He crouched inside, coughing, for when he landed it knocked the wind out of him. Then he panicked as he noticed the wall of rock protecting him was beginning to glow. He knew that if he let it go, it would melt and kill him, so he broke it, sending glowing hot shards of rock outwards in all directions. The shards pierced the wyrm’s wings, sending it spiraling to the ground. It got up, its muscles tense. It pounced at Mytrith who ducked and swung his sword. He heard it whimper, and looked where he heard it land. He had cut its left side deeply. It looked at him with fierce eyes that seemed to pierce through his mind like a telekinetic arrow. It roared, unleashing a horizontal pillar of flame. Mytrith quickly used magic and shot his own pillar, but his was of water, not flame. They met in the middle, causing an ongoing explosion of steam where they met. Mytrith began to sweat, not only because of the strain, but because the fire got closer with every second. With a sudden burst of strength, he shoved his beam of water and the wyrm’s fire back until both collided with his opponent. Then, he drew his sword and finished it. He appreciated the cheering coming from the crown, but he was convinced only harder things were coming. He braced himself for what emerged next. The gate opened, slowly. What emerged was a huge, dark silver arthropod with a spiked carapace, eight legs, four huge claws, one pair larger than the other, and a line of segments that extended from the back of its segmented body. The line, which formed a tail, split midway, into five extensions. Tipping each tail was a stinger with a swollen lump just above each one. It was a Manaborn scorpion. Manaborn creatures weren’t born of mana, but rather ordinary creatures touched and greatly affected by the energy of mana. Most creatures that became Manaborn were subterranean, like worms and moles, so they were usually rare. But in an area of Khomhara, the continent and country where Mytrith was, there was a large place filled with Manaborn creatures. This area was known as the Manaborn Plains. They were just outside the southeastern edge of the valley where Mytrith began this adventure, and he caught a glimpse of them on the Rocboat. He could see nothing special other than a slight silvery tint that was characteristic of all things to do with mana. Mytrith knew he could not use magic to fight the new obstacle, because Manaborn creatures can sense when a mana vein is tapped into, and can use some of the energy from the vein to feed and restore themselves before the one who tapped into the vein no longer needed it and released it.
The scorpion lashed its five-stingered tail forth, not intending to hit Mytrith, but coming very close. It was warning him. Sorry buddy, no mercy now. If you knew why I did this, you’d understand, he thought to himself. He knew he could not speak to the scorpion, so why bother making a fool of himself? When the scorpion struck out again, Mytrith swung his sword and cut off its central stinger. The creature recoiled, lashing out with its remaining tails and pincers. Mytrith leaped into the air, and landed behind the scorpion. Because of its size, it was slow turning around. Too slow. Mytrith succeeded in killing it. He was surprised at how simple it was. Then, he heard the grinding of metal on metal as the gate opened again. This time a huge muscular and fat creature that looked like a grotesque man lumbered out, carrying a massive tree trunk. It was an ogre. Mytrith grinned. He knew this would be easy. He knew the perfect way to distract it. He tapped into a mana vein and watched as a rock lying on the ground began bouncing side to side in a simple dance. The ogre clapped its hands and stared at the dancing rock. Mytrith took advantage of the situation, snuck around behind it and killed it. Too simple. He waited for the gate to open again. His grin vanished as a large creature walked out of the gate. Its hoof prints burned the ground, its skin was blood red, its fingers ended in wicked claws, it had wings like a dragon’s, it had horns curving back from its eyebrows, and its eyes burned. This was a greater demon, a Jakkire. Jakkires normally never strayed far from the Arcane Scar. This was going to be very difficult. He drew his sword with a gulp. It moved forward, each step burning and shaking the ground. When it got close, he swung his sword. It shattered to pieces. The Jakkire snatched him up. Its touch both burned and froze Mytrith. It weighed him down, and eventually, the dread stopped him from struggling. The demon looked Mytrith in the eye. Mytrith fell in, and found himself shivering, cold and burning, alone and weak, in a burning and black world that mimicked the Arcane Scar. It smelled of burning land and sulfur, and the air seemed to choke Mytrith as if thick with smoke. He felt himself growing weaker, and soon to the extent that he could feel his real body outside this nightmare growing weaker as well. The Jakkire was feeding off of him, eating his soul, draining his life force. It would not be much longer before it killed him. He had to hope – no, he had to fight. He stood, still shivering and weak, and drew his shattered sword. He stabbed the jagged remnants into the world he stood on, and felt the demon recoil. The vision flickered, and then dissolved, leaving him in a black void, with no air, smell, feel, or ground. It was nothing. He had to find his body. Even though it had stopped feeding off of him, he would die soon anyways if he did not find his body. His soul was in this void. He saw a light, distant, but there, he could not deny its presence. He swam to it, but the more he moved, the farther it seemed. It’s a puzzle, he realized. The demon wants to make it harder for me, kill me even if it can’t eat from me. He tried moving backwards, and, sure enough, the light drew closer. As he drew near, he noticed that it was a spinning ring, spinning so fast the heat made it glow. He swam around it and the other side of it wasn’t spinning. He swam through.
His eyes fluttered open. He was on the ground. He was cold but covered with sweat. He was shaking all over. He could barely move his hand let alone stand up. But he was actually pleased with his condition. He expected much worse for having his soul trapped in a demon’s mind for more than a minute. He was suddenly alarmed because he was helpless before the demon. He enhanced his sight with Mana again and found the demon lying on the ground. He knew it was dead because only its outline faintly showed in the Mana-based vision. If it was alive it would be like a silver fire. Knowing what he had accomplished, he let himself slip into a rejuvenating rest. He would need it.

***

Several days passed, and days turned into a couple of weeks. It was time. They would face the champion now, or have to rely on him or Norin, which, as much as they would like to, they couldn’t. This was too important. Dravin let Mytrith try first. He walked into the arena, listening as the gates closed behind him. He looked across the arena to see who would emerge from the other gate. The muscular gray form of an orc emerged. Orcs were a proud race who were well known for their war status in the world. They had gray skin and dark hair, and most had blue eyes. Some males grew tusks. These uncommon orcs, called Gatture by their people, were given special honors in their tribes. This orc didn’t look like a Gatture. But he looked powerful, perhaps a warlord from a tribe. Warlords among orcs were elite warriors who often led raids, or armies, though an orc army was rare, because you would need at least three tribes to merge into a Fort to have that many warriors. Forts were uncommon. A Fort occurs when multiple tribes merge together to make a larger tribe, called a Fort by most, even if one doesn’t have a fort of its own.
The orc in front of Mytrith wore heavy looking plate armor, though he knew it was orcish, so it was lighter than it looked. He carried a large orcish greatsword. He drew it and unleashed a war cry that would make any common foe flee. Mytrith drew his blade, which he had repaired after he had recovered. At last he could once again use magic, his most potent, if not his most practiced, weapon. He launched a lance of Mana at his opponent, not as an actual aggressive act, but to see how well the orc would fare against magic. The orc was thrown back by the lance, but seconds after, he found the bolt racing towards him, faster, larger, and sharper. Mytrith threw up a ward that was shattered by the lance, but did its job quite well. Okay, no magic, thought Mytrith, disappointed. Well, I still have my sword. He drew it and charged, recklessly, but effectively. The orc didn’t have time to bring up his heavy sword, so he dropped it and engaged in a hand grapple. He disarmed Mytrith and it quickly escalated to a full scale brawl. Fists, feet, elbows, knees, everything was used in this weaponless duel. The orc smirked at Mytrith and kicked him in the shin. Mytrith thought he heard something crack. The very same shin was throbbing. Mytrith had to kneel to prevent himself from blacking out from the pain. He was still in danger of that. He couldn’t hear the crowd booing the orc. He couldn’t see the way the orc smugly grinned, then reached for his sword. He sensed nothing but rage. Mytrith’s eyes exploded open, now solid glowing orbs of silver. He roared, unlike any roar he had ever unleashed, and his mouth glowed silver from within. His hands began to acquire an aura like silver fire. He began to punch with such speed, accuracy and power, the orc stood no chance, and he was forced to the opposite wall, his gray skin covered with bruises and blood. Mytrith felt someone holding him back, and he barely saw someone else holding the orc back. Mytrith came back to his senses, and noticed that it was another orc holding his opponent back, and Aulur holding him back. Mytrith fell to the ground, his leg no longer the problem; whatever had just happened shook him to the core.

***

“Look, whatever happened, it had to have something to do with the Mana Heart. I know how that sounds, but it’s true!” Mytrith was trying to explain to his companions what had happened that caused him to go berserk. When it did happen, he wasn’t controlling his body, and he felt an immense consciousness using him, and he got the feeling that that was only part of it. Nobody believed him though, because even though the evidence was everywhere, nobody really believed that it existed.
“Mytrith, if you expect us to believe that the Mana Heart actually possessed you, you’re going to have to prove it” said Daram.
“I-I-…” Mytrith stuttered, looking around at the group, Zoe, Dravin, Vithmarral, Daram, and even Aulur looked at him like he was telling the most ridiculous lie. “I can’t.” Why does this sort of thing always happen to me? he thought to himself.
“Well,” said Aulur, the annoyed look vanishing from his face, “look at the bright side. That orc’s tribe had him killed for bringing dishonor onto their tribe’s name. That means you’re the champion Mytrith!” Everyone erupted into cheers.
“Now, when does the Legion come? I can’t wait to deny them!”
“They should arrive today. Norin announced a few days ago, when you were asleep.”
“Perfect.”
Just then, they heard Norin announce in the Arena, “The Solstice Legion Representatives have arrived!”
The group ran to the main gate of Kundral. An entire battalion of soldiers with a horseman at its head was marching into the city. Norin was already there, and Mytrith rushed to the scene.
“I,” announced the horseman “am the representative of Marcus, High Master of the Solstice Legion, here to make a proposal. We come to take the Arena for Legion soldier training.”
Norin’s pleased expression turned to a hard glare. “That Arena is half of Kundral, and therefore half of my nation. Of the dark elf nation! I will NOT allow anyone to take it this easily. If you want it, you’ll have to lay siege to Kundral and take it by force!”
At this the representative drew his sword. As soon as he did that, an arrow suddenly stuck, quivering from his shoulder. Dravin’s arrow. Mytrith whirled around and saw him standing, his eye-cloth at his feet. “I’ll make you a deal. See what the champion has to say. If he accepts, then you may attack. If not, then you must turn around, or turn into a porcupine!”
The representative glared, and then turned around. As he did, a scroll fell out of his saddlebags. Mytrith picked it up. I read:
Whether you manage to take the Arena or not, remember, when you are finished in Kundral, come to the heat fields. We gather there soon. I cannot reveal any details yet, but we may gain a powerful new ally.
Marcus Warrick
This news worried Mytrith. He told his friends what he had found, and they all agreed, they should also go to the heat fields.















Chapter 3: The Heat Fields


The group had been following the Legion for days. The only problem encountered was when a massive hunting wyrm flew overhead. It wasn’t hurt badly, but it considered the cloud of arrows too annoying and not worth a meal of humans. Soon, trees stopped appearing, the grass grew drier, and the atmosphere seemed to thicken and heat up. The clouds soon became dense, numerous and a menacing orange. The ground had little remaining vegetation. Steam vents, cracks and geysers were everywhere. Several volcanoes ranging in size and age dotted the fields. Smoke, fire and lava often spewed from the cracks. And looming high over everything was the massive steaming volcano, Mt. Bane. They had reached the heat fields. The mountain was so huge, it seemed enormous from a large distance. They had only barely reached the edge of the fields and the volcano was at the center, more or less. Aulur agreed to scout for how far the Legions battalion went, so that they could know where to set up camp without a territorial dispute. When he came down, he bore bad news.
“This isn’t the only battalion. There are four others. And where they are going to meet is a huge red dragon.”
“The powerful ally mentioned in the note, perhaps?” suggested Zoe.
“No, the dragon wore armor.”
“So? Many dragons wear armor these days.”
“This one bears the Legions symbol.”
Nobody doubted it now. This dragon was already a servant of the Legion. But who or what was the ally? “Well,” said Mytrith. “I say, we wait until the dragon leaves, then we attack.”
“Are you insane?” exclaimed Daram. “That’s at least 500 soldiers! We don’t stand a chance!”
“Actually, Mytrith,” said Zoe. “I’ve got a few beings that owe me a couple of favors. Including some pretty impressive dragons. We might stand a chance.”
“Ok. We’re still going to wait until that one leaves. No telling how powerful it is.”
“Right, of course!”

***

The enemy dragon left a day later. When it did, Zoe pulled out a piece of parchment. She wrote something with one of her daggers, but it didn’t cut the parchment. They waited several hours for a response, and then the wind gained the heartbeat that foretold a dragon or wyrm. A huge, golden brown lizard with immense, muscular limbs, massive, bat like wings, an enormous head with black horns, and a huge and powerful tail landed, launching volcanic dust into the air.
“Greetings, Zoe.” The dragon had a powerful voice that echoed in Mytrith’s mind long after the dragon stopped speaking.
“Lirauk, we need your help to…”
“Wait,” Mytrith exclaimed. “Lirauk?!”
“Yes, my name is Lirauk. Why, do you know of me? I do not recall meeting any of you, save Zoe.”
Mytrith couldn’t believe it. He was seeing Lirauk for the first time. He had thought that the Legion had taken him, which was why he had decided to go against them. But now he saw that it was Zoe who took him, although he wasn’t sure how. So he asked her.
“Yes, I told him of a hiding spot, where the Legion would not find him. In return he gave me a favor.”
“So, he wasn’t in danger from the Legion?”
“No, no I was not. Well, I was, but that’s when Zoe told me where to hide.”
“So, the Legion is evil? I was still right about them?”
“I wouldn’t say evil. Not many things are truly evil. But yes, you were right about them. They are not my favorite people. I try not to think about what they would have done to me.”
“Wait, where did you send him to hide, Zoe?”
“I told him about a little cave in the Crescent Mountains. Nothing much, but enough for even a full grown dragon to survive for at least a year, and Lirauk isn’t even fully grown.”
Mytrith was amazed at the last statement. “He’s not fully grown? He’s huge!”
Lirauk responded with a chuckle, a rumble that shook the ground beneath Mytrith’s feet. “Yes, I’d say I have about another 10,000 years before I’ve reached my full height. A full grown dragon is about an eighth of the size of Mount Bane.”
Everybody gasped, even Aulur who knew more about dragons than anyone there except for Lirauk because of his heritage. Mount Bane was huge even for a mountain. According to elven studies, the volcano used to be even larger until a devastating eruption blew away the majority of the mountain’s outer layers built up from previous explosions. The enormous eruption also created the surrounding heat fields.