Lyse passed bodies below deck, obviously killed by the Makhai. There weren't many, as loads were already on deck when the attack occurred, but easily a dozen laid limp dying or in the process. He helped a man with a cut across his chest get to his feet and towards the deck, and charged on in the wake of destruction. He hobbled a bit, the wound slowly healing, but he was not focusing on the gash at the moment to do so properly. He feared the worst, but he hoped for the best of outcomes. His sword was already drawn and ready, and he busted into the room he and his mom was staying in. He was slightly surprised though, seeing the black cladded warrior he had chased dead on his stomach, his blood covering the floor, and his mother in human form sitting on her bed, panting like an animal in heat. Her mouth was caked in blood, her eyes almost glazed. She clutched her hands as if they were drenched in fire. She only turned after he called her name a number of times, where the glaze left her,
Elena could feel the presence of two men boarding the ship from below. It was a blessed thing to do, the ability to sense others who have aura. It was also convenient to be able to assess them through it. It can be difficult sometimes, especially when some can suppress their aura or even conceal it, as she has recently learned. But the two who boarded them gave no attempt to such an action. It was clearly the aura of mages, so unlike the aura that knights produced; far more streamed and fluid, like water than the grainy flow of most knights. But she knew it also to be trouble as well. She knew about the Ravens. Every knight is told about the ravens. They were responsible for making sure knights do not make it to the mainland, and knights were told strictly to stay away from them and from Torlak. It was one thing discussing it with Lyse, sneaking into a country people like them swore never to enter, but now that the enforcers of such an act were here, it was far more stressful than wha
Remmus Mythweaver. The Grandmaster of the arts, the sovereign of the magical kingdom of Torlak. Being the grandmaster, he has a special role of monitoring, governing, and protecting the mystical arts taught uniquely to the citizens of his country and protect the needs of the people. Over the years, he has learned of so many ways of doing such a thing. Firstly, he can always fall back on the judgment of the council of Six Arms, advisors to help guide the nation in its smaller sectors. He has made friends among them, and he trusts their judgment sometimes to get things done. Though they are wise men and women, however, he finds that going out and seeing for your own eyes often yielded some of the best results. this is something he has found himself doing more and more often. Either by disguising himself to go through the street unabated or venturing to whatever unique situation found in the ruins of the old world, he finds a bit of solace doing so, despite the anxious pleas from the cou
26 years ago"Tell me, James, are you fond of these battles."The 12th royal legion. One of the twelve main forces captained by some of the best generals and captains the Liontari clan had to offer. They are a vast array of men. five hundred archers, each with long-range war bows powerful enough to puncture steel plate, and each man capable of shooting an apple from its branch. The most excellently trained cavalry, horses as fast as the winds and more fearless than the most veteran of man. Swordsmen, pikemen, rows upon rows on infantry 2 thousand strong, bearing the golden crest of a lion's head upon their shields and stamped into their armor. And not only, but a hundred of the finest knights can be found in these ranks. Each alone worth twenty of their own, possibly double that, even. Captains as brave as the most celebrated of heroes, generals more cunning than the craftiest trickster. All under the care and attention of one of the princes, Prince James Colton.It wasn't his first r
Massua's time at this prison drastically changed since that conversation with that strange woman. It was curious, but she barely remembers anything about what occurred that day or anything that she said. When she took part in that feast, the world seems to become skewed and unclear. She almost thought of the strange woman in black as a friend, or at least someone she could talk to. She felt wrong when her senses came back, and she woke up in a completely different cell than before. Her lips and mouth felt numb like she had eaten something with terribly too much spice. At the very least she can be appreciative of the fact that she did not wake up on the cold moist ground next to the skeleton. She did not feel safer, looking at her surroundings, but she appreciated all of the small things afforded to her. Even that felt wrong. She took a quick survey of her surroundings. She had woken up in a huge bed, twice the size of even her parents. The cushions were fluffy and filled with do
As brief as his time in Torlak had been, Lyse felt a small part of him sad to leave. As someone who had always been interested in something he did not know. Something such as Torlakian magic presented possibly the largest challenge to him. Something even outside the challenges he has already faced with aura yet still related somehow. He saw so much to learn, so much to discover. Despite his vow never to step foot in their land without the permission of the Grandmaster and Six Arms, he walked a bit slow behind Makyra looking around at the city. Its architecture and its customs. The people seemed relatively happy and spry. Busy, but with a step that determined a sense of aptitude of where they are. He still couldn't get the idea of those floating towers and islands slowly drifting around the cities. He could gawk at them for hours. They were a marvel to look at, a lump of rock and dirt suspended in the air and somehow guided around like guardians. He felt the urge to learn, to k
Butterflies seemed to twirl within Lyse. He knew what it was coming from, but that did not comfort him. The euphoric feeling of discovery that he had visiting Torlak, or even visiting Pumavut in Koraki, vanished as soon as he stepped foot on the shaky wooden docks of the capital city of Hath. It didn't come from the people. Sure, everyone he saw looked a little rough. Everyone walked with hastened steps as if afraid of attracting attention. Everyone's down casted eyes made Lyse feel as though being watched in some awkward way. But he didn't sense any malice, and no one took notice of the four as they traversed the market area. The only people that seemed approachable were the merchants themselves, waving over to any passerby with practiced half-smiles and approachable appearances.It didn't come from the buildings themselves. For the most part, the streets and accompaniments all looked rather splendid. Each building had a cluttered yet decorative look to them, adorned with all manner
It was scary, for Amond, to continue the research he does under the eyes of that witch. His first encounter with her had not been a good one. In fact, he rather not think at all of the trauma she unleashed upon him. Looking back on it, he admits that his actions were foolish, emotional, and not at all rational. Unbecoming of someone who served under the ruthless and bloodthirsty regime known as Talin for so long. It seemed a waste to him, to do such a thing to his creation, his friend. Maybe that is why Makhai was ressureted. They never felt emotions, so they make the perfect killing machines. No need of fruitless humanity to slow down whatever goals this witch requires of them all. Whatever that was, he still does not know. It has been a month since he began his assignment, and now he feels as if disturbed by what he was doing. He was creating monsters, no way around it. He was a necromancer. The practice itself was something looked down upon in his teachings. Not forbidden, bu