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[dedavii]

I started writing a book and I want to share some of it to you guys. I'd like your opinions/feedback/criticism on it.

I will only include the prologue and first chapter.

Hope you enjoy the story I've written.

 

 

 

 

Prologue: 

Fall of the Seven Empires

 

The golden grasslands of Pinarra gave no resistance to the howling wind’s tortured gusts, and soon burnt to ash as the radiating heat wave passed over them. Large, building sized, molten boulders crashed from miles away, flying from the once peaceful, now destroyed, woodlands of Galnvar, smashing anything in their destructive path into nothing. The explosion was heard across nearly all of Fam’barrak and the huge mushroom cloud of fire and death pierced the heavens as the meteor struck the planet. Though the force was devastating and many died from the debris, the planet and the people upon it would survive. For now.

Seven months passed by and the forces of nature began to heal the shattered wounds of the meteor yet, something was wrong. After the destruction phased away into memory, and life began to return to normal, it was then that a deadly plague was brought with the fallen star. The symptoms were, for the most part, unnoticeable: Coughing, rash, headaches, and sweating. All of them were minor things, until the symptoms began to become more severe. Eventually, the Empire That Connects All Races, went under a strict quarantine. Soon enough, most of the citizens of the empire died to the plague. Those that managed to escape the plague sought out refuge within the neighboring empires of Zemoschine, Maldorros or Lyrassia. But the safety they sought was not permanent. The creeping shadow of death followed them and, the plague had managed to breech into those empires and soon, one by one, they too had fallen.

The work of a dark cult came into play. The victims of the plague that first died from it soon began to rise from their shallow graves from the cultist’s dark magic of necromancy, which had been taboo for nearly eight millennia, and was punishable by death. The Horsemen of the Damned, they soon to be called, began hunting the souls of the living to fuel not just their own powers, but also to keep the plague active and spreading.

Soon after the cult had risen into existence, the remaining empires declared martial law, and closed their borders. Nobody was allowed to travel in or out of the countries, whether they claimed to not be cultists or otherwise. If someone was found practicing the dark rituals of necromancy, they would be executed on the spot by the city guards that patrolled the streets. Action had to be taken.

Highlord Yndora Starbeard, ninth king of Roktom Arki, stomped down the stairs and through the main foyer in his royal armaments of red plate with gold borders and a Roktori Elk hide cloak strapped on his back. His trusty Warhammer Maan Raivo, or “Earth’s Fury” in the common tongue, strapped at his left side ready for combat. He pushed the halted in front of his castle’s main door where his wife, Queen Aerithiir Starbeard stood waiting for him with a single hand maiden at her side. The queen wore a delicately and beautifully crafted sparkling midnight gown and her tiara sat gracefully on her groomed blonde hair.

“Come to stop me, my queen?” The dwarf king asked. She pleaded with him “Only to stop the worst decision you will make in yer entire life.”

“I’ve made me choice, m’love. If we d’not stop this plague from advance’n into our borders, our fair kindom’ll be going to ruin, just like Lyrassia an’ the others as well.” Queen Aerithiir crossed her arms upon her chest and challenged her husband’s choice “But sending in nearly our entire army out into Lyrassia, a city –nay, a citadel that now is infested with the cultists and their abominations. And need I remind you, has managed to hold off all of our previous assaults upon it for the past eight hundred years, is suicide. You’re sending our soldiers to their deaths Yndora,” She paused as she walked away from him and she turned around to see his grieving face. “And I only hope with every ounce of love I have for you in my heart, that you can forgive yourself for what you are about to do.” She walked away to leave her king with his thoughts.

His tears had drenched his fiery red beard before he wiped them away and opened the door to a balchony, overlooking a sea of copper colored plated dwarves. Each carried a steam-fueled backpack with a hose attaching to a mounted arm cannon at their right arms used to send metal projectiles at their enemies, an ammunition belt over the shoulder to reload their mounted arm cannons, a heavy shield upon their left arm for defensive protection and their own personal choice of melee weapon should they find themselves in close quarter combat.

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Chapter   I:

Dragonheart Festival

 

 

Leraxna’s blood boiled as she witnessed the murder of everyone that tried to escape the chaos. “Why? Why did you kill them Misha? You stain your hands in the blood of our brethren, to abandon our God?!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, wanting an answer. She felt helpless as everyone she knew was slaughtered like lambs. All she cared about was revenge. Yet the person responsible, her little sister, was someone she wasn’t expecting. Something was amiss though. She seemed like she no longer had a will of her own, possessed even. Leraxna wasn’t sure. “Answer me!” She cried out. The darkened visage of the little girl gave out a wide grin and stared her down with eyes filled with bloodlust, and laughed.

 

 

 

One week ago...

 

 

The Dragonheart Festival is just around the corner. It is a holiday celebrated by the Draiige, whom descended from the Dragons of the Old World, on the small island country of Grash’novir. The festival gets its namesake from the last dragon, Lishik the Life-giver. Lishik had sacrificed her own heart to create the small island and the Draiige that inhabit it. By performing a sacred ritual at the place of her enshrined bones, taking a small fragment from those bones and burning it, the Draiige honor Lishik’s sacrifice. To the Draiige, this ritual is used to ask the spirit of Lishik for bountiful harvests, protection upon the island, births of healthy newborns, and to select their next High Shaman, when the time came.

Preparing for the festival is no easy task, everything must be perfect.

 

The dark bedroom’s window suddenly had sunlight piercing through it and upon the sleeping woman inside. She hated waking up in the morning and thusly pulled her covers over her head to hopelessly block the red sun’s bright rays. The annoying voice of a younger sibling kept bothering the sleeping older sister. “Come on Ler, wake up.” The little blue haired girl shook her older sister until she moaned with frustration and going into a tug of war over the elder sister’s bed sheets. “Go away, Misha. Let me sleep.” “You said you would to take me down to the festival grounds today.” She pulled the bed covers off her lazy older sister, revealing her half-naked body to the window that brought in the red sun’s light and within that light, her ash tinted scaly skin, with freckles of black dotted here and there, gave off a soft dull gleam.

Leraxna Nightscale had promised to take her younger sister Mishalarah – Misha for short – down to the festival grounds. Begrudgingly, she sat up and looked down at her younger sister’s optimistic smiling face, which she thought about punching for waking her up in the morning. “Alright,” She said as she stretched her arms upward and her smoke colored wings out toward their full twelve yard wingspan, to which Leraxna noticed small cracks upon. “I’ll take you down to see the festival. The construction should be done in a few hours.”

Misha’s smile became wider, and jumped with joy in front of her sister and all over the room, bouncing like a ball, as she was pleased to see her sister keep her promise and, leapt high enough to almost the point where she would get her pink horns stuck in the ceiling of the home cave again, to which there were several paired holes within from previous incidents. “But first,” Leraxna scratched an irritated, itchy spot on her shoulder, and discovered flakes of dead skin falling off her and littering her bed and floor like snow on a calm winter’s day. “Help me molt?” Misha climbed up on the bed and went to groom her sister’s backside, wings, and tail, while she worked on her arms, chest, waist and legs. The sisters worked together, peeling away shreds of crusty dragon skin. For a time, as short as it was, the two weren’t arguing or fighting amongst each other. Both sat upon the mattress in silence for an hour, until each flake of skin had been removed.

Leraxna yawned and asked “You hungry?” Misha replied with a nod. “You want to eat now or, do you want to eat at the festival?”

Misha thought on the question then answered, “The Festival. They’ve got more options than what we got here. And besides, it’s all better than what you could ever cook up.” She giggled, but her laughter was cut short due to Leraxna punching her nose without a care for the consequences. Her expressionless face and glaring yellow eyes watched silently as the force of the blow knocked the young dragon child all the way into the wall, cracking it, and possibly her skull. “That hurt!” Misha covered her broken nose, which bled all over her little blue shirt. “That’s a mean way of saying ‘Thank you’ to someone who helped shed your skin.”

“It’s your own damn fault for insulting my cooking. It’s a lot better than what those outsiders can make. Just be glad I feed you, you ungrateful little brat.” Misha stuck out her tongue towards her bully of a sister after wiping away the dripping blood from her nose, and forcefully jamming bone back into place to stop the bleeding. Leraxna walked over to her dresser and turned her back for a bit to start getting dressed.

She debated on what to wear; She picked up a red, skin tight, tank top that had a tear big enough to show her right breast’s nipple, which she twiddled her thumb within the tear, wondering on whether or not to give the boys on the island a little tease to her “availability” to her relationship status. “This would probably get the boys something to gawk at.” She giggled, as she then wondered on wearing a dark blue tunic with a convenient pouch sewed on the left side. Misha, crouching on the ground, got into a pathetic excuse of a prowling position. Her claws scratched the floor ready to strike, her small violet wings tucked in tight to give her lunge a more aerodynamic trajectory, and her heterochromia colored eyes of green and yellow focused on her “target”. She leapt forth and made an attempted attack on her sister from behind. The attempt ended in failure, for Leraxna knew her sister to well and countered with only her long, slender tail, knocking the child upward. Misha’s head hit the roof with a loud thud, bits of pebbles and dust fell below her, her horns made a pair of new holes within it, and her small body dangled as if the rope of a hangman’s noose. But Leraxna, somewhat proud of foiling her sister’s vain attempt to strike her, paid no attention to Misha struggling to get her horns free from the rocky ceiling as she was more concerned with trying on her clothes.

Misha accepted her defeat, “Umm, Ler?” The elder sister tried on the red tank top and twiddled with her revealed nipple with one hand, cupped the other breast in the other hand and smiled lusciously in front of her mirror before answering. “Yes?”

“Can you get me down,” She swallowed her pride and added. “Please?”

Ler had turned to face her sister, seeing how stuck she was and sarcastically asked “Oh my, how did you get up there like that?” Ler bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

“You know damn well how. Now get me down!” She begged.

Ler thought for a bit, and decided to not help her dangling sister. “No.”

“Come on, Ler. I’m stuck real good.” Misha whined. “Please get me down.” Leraxna just watched her sister “hang out”, and as much as she wanted to keep her stuck in the roof of her house, she shook her head and sighed “You are such a burden.” And as she left the room, Misha’s eyes welled up with tears, and the little dragon child began to cry. The sobbing of the little sister was heard all the way from the front door of their home, where Leraxna was ready to leave her sister behind. Her hand remained still above the doorknob for a bit, and she fought over her desire to leave her sister dangling from the ceiling and abandoning her, over doing the right thing and helping her sister out.

“Damnit,” She punched the wall as if she thought she made the wrong choice. She returned to her room, dragging a chair. Misha’s tears began to dry up as she heard the faint sound of a chair’s legs being dragged across the floor, and she began to smile and have renewed faith in her sister as she climbed the chair beneath her and grasped her arms. “You ready?” Leraxna asked. Misha nodded in response, and began embracing the pain she usually had with the previous incidents of her getting stuck in the roof. Leraxna pulled down as hard as she could, and soon, Misha popped out, and fell to the floor.

Misha rubbed her head, and noticed something was missing. She felt a rough, jagged stump on one side of her head, and a smooth horn on the other. “My horn,” She cried out as she stood in front of the mirror. “It broke off!” Leraxna looked at the spot in the roof where her sister was previously stuck, and saw the broken piece of bone within the ceiling. “Huh, so it has.” She grasped the detached horn and pulled it out of the stone. “It’ll grow back.” She patted her sister’s head. “Come on. Let’s get to the festival before all the action starts.” Leraxna put the broken horn on her dresser as she and Misha left their home cave, when Leraxna looked out her window and saw her dad’s fishing boat ironically named Life in Serenity.

sheet. I forgot to get last night’s harvest. I sure hope To’lah doesn’t fire me.

Misha and Leraxna left out the front entrance of their home cave. The eldest spread out her large dark turquoise wings and flapped them once to give her flight. Her legs curled back slightly and she gazed down upon her younger sister, whom had trouble gaining altitude with her small and meek violet wings. Leraxna sighed and she lowered her tail and wrapped it around Misha’s body. She noticed instantly. “I can fly on my own Ler. You don’t need to help me.” Misha complained. “I know you can, but if you kept struggling like that, we’ll be late for the festival.” Leraxna smirked, and then began flying towards the beach. The Dragonheart Festival was to be held there this century. She flew elegantly and flawlessly through the skies. Her long, black hair gave no resistance to the wind. Misha looked down at the town below as she saw many other Draiige begin to fly towards the festival grounds. “Do you think Jal’kou will show up today?” Misha asked. “Maybe, I don’t know.” Her older sister replied as she gazed aimlessly at the horizon. Misha giggled. “I hope so. If he does, then maybe he’ll propose to you.” Surprised to hear that word, ‘propose’, she looked down at her sister while she played with her doll and asked. “What makes you think he’ll ask me to marry him?”

“You two of you are in love, right?” She asked as she made her doll dance and continued. “Not only that, I heard a few nights ago that both of you were making strange noises in your room. Both of you kept saying ‘Oh yes’ and ‘Oh god’ and stuff like that. What were you doing that night, Ler?”

Leraxna couldn’t believe it. She was embarrassed to realize Misha heard them making love that night. Her face turned red and became flustered. “Don’t worry about it, Misha. It’s none of your business.” She tried to keep a straight face and quickly looked away. Misha was stubborn. “But I wanna know! What were you doing?” She whined. “I told you, it’s none of your business. What my boyfriend and I did that night is none of your concern,” Leraxna snapped. “Now drop it or I will drop you!” She then realized she said “boyfriend” and became real quiet. She really didn’t want to admit to anyone, especially her sister that she was in a relationship.

“Oh, so that’s it isn’t it? Thanks for the tip. Now I have something to tell Kino and Filnor.” She laughed as she managed to make her sister spill such a huge secret. Yet in her success in finding out this secret, Misha wasn’t able to tell she was falling thirty thousand feet until it was almost too late. Leraxna dropped her, like she said she would. Oh. This is going to hurt a little. A cruel thing to do to a young Draiige, Misha desperately flapped her tiny wings as hard as she could to slow down her fall. Come on wings, fly! Fortunately, she was able to slow her decent long enough for her to come crashing right into a few tree branches before she gave in to exhaustion and eventually crashed head first into the ground. Misha groped her head in pain and cried like the little girl she was. Leraxna flew down and landed near her. 

“I told I’d drop you.” Misha looked at her bully of an older sister with tear filled eyes. “You’re mean! Why would you do that?” Leraxna crossed her arms as she replied. “It’s your own damn fault. You pushed a sensitive topic too far. You really need to learn to keep your big mouth shut.” She walked over to her sister, who stuck out her tongue at her, and pulled out of her pack a vial of medical oil and poured roughly half of it upon the large goose egg upon her sister’s head. Instantly, like magic, a faint golden glow healed her sister’s head injury and Misha was free of pain. 

“There we go, all better.” Leraxna patted her sister’s head. Misha looked at her bully of a sister with a little mistrust, which was instantly lost when her ears twitched at the music from the festival. Her face began beaming with joy. 

“The festival,” Misha screamed. “We made it!” The two sisters walked down the hill towards the golden sandy beach littered with tents and other Draiige. There seemed to be nearly every Draiige on the island this time, unlike the last festival where there was about several hundred. Leraxna walked down the many aisles of game tents looking for Jal'kou, her lover, while holding her easily impressed and eager sister's hand, whom was more than wanting to zoom off to find the nearest food stand to fill her iron and seemingly bottomless stomach with flavors of foods that contradict one another. And Misha did just that. She managed to break free of Leraxna's grip and rush across the festival, sprinting to and fro between food stands collecting mountains of food. All paid for with money she saved up from helping her neighbor clean her house over the years.

Leraxna couldn't react to her sister quick enough. She reached out to Misha whom had already gone passed her line of sight. Leraxna covered her face with her palm. "Lishik, grant me the strength and patience towards raising my sister."

A tap on the shoulder was more than enough to get her attention. "I see Misha's more eager than others to start up the festival." A young man, with a voice nobody could forget, crept up behind the love of his life. Leraxna jolted, her heart began to beat rapidly. She knew who it was and turned to meet her soulmate. His crimson ruby-like eyes met hers. His dark-green scaled skin covered him head to toe, save his right arm, which had been severely burned by another male in a contest to fight for Leraxna's heart. In the end, Jal'kou was the only man who could love her the way she wanted and was decided the victor of the squabble.

"Hey." It was all she could say to him. Her heart felt like it melted whenever she was with him. She pulled back her hair and blushed as Jal'kou offered his hand to her. She gladly took it. "Would you like to go see what they have at this century's festival with me?" He asked her. With a man like him, how could she refuse? “Sure.” She blushed and held his hand as they walked into the festival grounds together.

While Leraxna and Jal’kou held hands, the Prime Chief of the Draiige, saw them together, and his heart ached as he saw his son dishonor their race’s traditions. Jal’kou was arranged to marry someone else, and not the foul-mouthed sailor his son unfortunately fell in love with. He called for his son. “Jal’kou, come!” The Chief’s son sighed as he did not wish to part with his beloved. “I’ll see you ate your place after the festival.” He whispered in her ear, then let go of her hand and dashed to his father whose short fuse had possibly gotten shorter.

“Leraxna Nightscale!” Another voice Leraxna knew all too well, but wished she didn’t. Her boss, To’lah Seatooth, sold the fish she caught. He yelled at her for her incompetence. “Tell me you didn’t forget to go out and get last night’s harvest! Those steelfish schools won’t be out there for much longer, little missy!”

Leraxna turned toward her employer. “I’m sorry sir. I couldn’t catch the wind last night. The engine had a-” She could finish her sentence, more of an excuse really, as To’lah interrupted her.

“I’m tired of hearing your excuses you sheet-faced jabroni! Get on that pathetic dingy your father made and get me that harvest before those fish swim away until next year, or YOU’RE FIRED!” Leraxna couldn’t lose her job. She lived basically off the menial pay and barely made ends meet. “You got to be shitting me! My boat had a malfunction in the engine. I can’t take it out until I get it fixed.” The excuse made To’lah even angrier, but he was a businessman and could be reasoned with. “Give me a few hours to fix it up, and I’ll go out and get your fish, and I’ll do it at half pay.”

To’lah scratched his gizzly beard and scowled lowly as he thought over the offer. “You’ll do it at quarter pay, and no more.”

Leraxna couldn’t work for less than what she offered. “A quarter of the normal pay would put me in debt, you old fart! Go funk yourself!” She swore at her boss.

“That’s none of my concern, Little Pig. If you don’t take this offer, then you can go find yourself another job!” To’lah countered. This infuriated her, and he knew it. Leraxna thought about breathing enough fire upon him to make him a smoldering corpse, or maybe even using her Bloodrite to meld into the shadows and strike him down from behind. Yet, all of that wouldn’t have mattered. Murdering him would do her no good. She gave in. “Alright, you win,” she hung her head dejectedly. “I’ll get your fish at quarter pay.”

“That’s a good girl. Now go and fix up your boat. I can’t have my employees not ship shape if they’re going to work for me.” He began to walk away. “One more thing: If you can’t meet your quota today, don’t bother showing up for work tomorrow.”

Leraxna sighed, defeated “Aye, sir.”

Meanwhile at the festival, Misha had got to participate in a food eating contest. Just after eating almost thirty pounds of food before the contest, it started to become the norm to ask the question on where she puts all that food in such a small body. Perhaps it was her Bloodrite; the ability to devour all she desired without getting full?  If that were the case, nothing seemed to stop her iron stomach from chomping away at anything edible. But, a Draiige’s Bloodrite isn’t achieved until mature ages, and Misha has yet to reach puberty. How she does it, is truly a wonder.

The little dragon child would consume all the food she could eat until the festival’s end at sundown.