FicWad

Dramorian (Explosive) - Dra . More . Ee . An
Locien (Dragon) - Loc . Ee . En
Thalion (Hero) - Thal . Ee . On


Prologue


As one day shifted into another, the darkness was almost complete, save for the silvery tendrils of the moon light that shimmered off the pregnant spring river below. The world slept in silence as the water rushed down into the valley, taking with it the crystal clear run off from the treacherous peaks to the North. It moved along unaware of the violent end it would meet as it crashed over the Maiden Falls with a roar that could shake the Gods, themselves. It would come to an end with barely a notice as the once mighty current was left to lap lazily against the shore, the roots of the trees stretching out to remove it entirely.

The shifting of winter into the warmer season of spring had once been Dramorian's favourite time of year, but life was a shifting mass of changing variables and few constants. The things he had once loved had been pushed aside to make room for the turmoil and corruption boiling beneath the surface of the Kingdom, its own violent end lurking just out of sight. Where he once saw the beginning of new life, he now saw a warmer season to aid the movement of their enemies. Rather than embracing the season, it too became something that worked against them. Even as he stood, looking out into the darkness, the light of the moon making his pale hair look as liquid silver, his eyes held the full force of his anxiety. He was not the heir to a crumbling throne, but he could still see the danger brewing. The power of the Kingdom was shifting out of their control; the King unwittingly furthering the deterioration under the guise of securing his own power. As always the greed of one bred destruction for all.

It was the sound of footfalls on the stone stairs behind him, that drew Dramorian from his inner musings. So fluid were the steps that an individual of lesser training would have missed the sound; a mistake that could cut short a life before the victim was even aware of the danger. There was one, Dramorian knew, who had the skill to mask his movements, but it was that same training that kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, his body taut and ready if the need to defend himself arose. Now was not the time to take chances, particularly for the sons of the King.

"Peace, Brother."

The smooth tone of Thalion's voice eased the tension lurking in Dramorian's muscles. There was no other Elf he trusted more than his brother and as the older sibling stepped out of the shadows and into the soft light of the moon, Dramorian was instantly reminded why his brother so easily earned the respect of the people. He was built for the role of King and there was no denying it. While Dramorian was much shorter and slimmer, Thalion stood over six feet and extremely broad. The difference between the two brothers had always been a means of scandal and talk among the nobles, Thalion always standing as the King's true son. His presence was always intimidating, particularly dressed as he was; a warrior of the Kingdom.

There had been continuing reports of unknown movement in the south and Thalion had been sent by their Father to investigate the allegations. It had been three weeks with no word since his departure from the Palace and it was quite clear that he had only just managed to return. His dark green armor was still interlocked securely over his arms and chest, displaying the White Oak of the royal bloodline in perfect detail on his breastplate, the indentation of the design catching the low light and illuminating the image.

“Well met, Thalion," he greeted, stepping forward and grasping his Brother's outstretched forearm as Thalion, himself, returned the familiar greeting.

"Well met, indeed, Little Brother," he greeted, his familiarly deep voice echoing around them as his dark riding cloak caught the crisp breeze from the North and strands of his golden hair were blown to obscure the laughter in his eyes. "I barely step through the gate and already I hear of your interactions with the Council. It seems you've riled them good and well this time, Dramorian."

"They grow bold in your absence," Dramorian responded, the unwillingness to feel remorse for his actions clearly showing on his face. The matter of the Council was a subject from which Dramorian drew no pleasure. They were like leeches, latching on the vulnerability and weaknesses of their Father. "And Father will not keep them in check. One of these days you'll return to find that snake Locien sitting on your throne and your Family tossed to the wolves."

"Locien and the Council are too bold in my presence, let alone when I am out of hearing range," Thalion sighed, shooting his younger brother a pointed look. The Council was Thalion's battle to win and the two brothers had held many conversations over the matter. "Your temper gives too much away too quickly. Be careful you do not gain more of their attention than is wise."

If there was one thing Dramorian disliked more than the Council, it was being lectured like a common child, no matter how relevant or needed the lecture might have been. "I sincerely doubt you came all the way up here to lecture me, Thalion," he snapped, his features speaking clearly of his distaste for the situation and his desire for news of the Kingdom. "What did you find in the south?"

Dramorian's anger only fueled Thalion's amusement, a deep chuckle resonating in the short space between them. "Ever the impatient soldier," he exclaimed, running a hand over his hair and smoothing it back away from his eyes. "We found plenty and yet nothing at all," he continued, succumbing to his brother's desire for news. "I return with only half of the men I left with, more loss than I ever wanted to cause, and not nearly enough of an explanation for it. Whatever takes refuge in the forest was well aware that we were coming and had no qualms with ending our journey before we could reach our target."

"What do you mean 'whatever takes refuge'? How do you not know who attacked you, Thalion?"

Thalion's eyes met his and Dramorian fell silent, instantly regretting his words. His Brother's eyes took responsibility for each Elf that had fallen under his command. If he did not know who had slain his soldiers than there was a good reason for it. Thalion did not leave Elves to die, he fought beside them. "It isn't Elves in that Forest, Dramorian, nor do I think it was the Old ones. This is something else I can only begin to name and I'm not entirely sure how to prepare for whatever they are planning, if anything at all."

"Preparing for what? Surely the forest cannot hide an entire army capable of marching on the Kingdom," he argued, considering the possibilities. It didn't make much sense. The main portion of the army was stationed within the area. To march on the Palace was simply illogical. "Clearly someone got word to them about your approach. No one in the South knew you were coming, Thalion. It wasn't just a good guess or proper scouting. You don't just happen to stop an entire legion of soldiers and destroy half of their numbers. It was a calculated move."

"I've thought on that, already," Thalion nodded, agreeing with many points his brother pointed out. There was too many things that could not be written off as mere coincidences. "There isn't any proof to hold against any of the court or council. If I was betrayed by a member of either, it will be too easy to have quick accusations turned against me."

"You're the heir to the throne and leader of the army!" Dramorian pointed out needlessly, the frustration in his voice telling his opinion on the matter. There had been a time when such a station had held more meaning within the Palace. "If you're not allowed to ask questions concerning your own safety and that of your soldiers, who in the name of the Gods can?"

"Questions aren't the problem, Dramorian. It's the accusations that will cause us the most harm. We need to tread carefully, lest the remainder of our numbers are decimated. Eyes need to be turned not only inward, but outward as well. The problem at hand isn't the attack on me, it's the building attack on the Kingdom. I will have to talk Father into allowing me to spread out our numbers more evenly among the people. The raids in the East are disrupting the trade lines and having those cut off will only create an opening for any attack being planned. It will do the Kingdom no good if the majority of our forces are stuck behind the gate of the Palace."

Dramorian snorted. "Good luck trying to pass that through the Council, Thalion. You know they won't allow it, particularly if one of them is behind the trouble rising in the Kingdom. I don't think it's a coincidence that the trouble arose the moment Locien gained control over the group of idiots. Their actions become bolder just as the problems within the Kingdom started."

"Do not worry about the Council. I am still in control of the army and there is little that they can do to taper that control without passing an official movement and that will take some time to organize. By the time they manage it, my plans will already be in motion."

It didn't exactly sound like a promising plan, but there was nothing that he could say. Dramorian was a soldier. Thalion was the heir to the throne and, ultimately, Dramorian would follow what his Brother decided. "I do hope you have a good plan, Brother."

His earlier thoughts began to creep back as Thalion's response drifted off on the wind. Trouble was brewing within the Kingdom and there was no definite direction to look. The Council grew bolder within the palace, an unknown threat hid among the trees in the South, and raids increased in the East. Every instinct he had claimed that the incidents were connected, but he couldn't see the strings of the Puppeteer. What he did know, however, was that his Brother had been expected in the south. Someone in close confidence had warned them and done so faster than the army could ride. He would even go so far as to say that whomever it had been, they had not expected Thalion to return. His return would bring questions that would draw dangerously close to discovering the path of one threads. It would be illogical not to secure a victory and allow for loose ends to be followed so easily. That thought, alone, caused his skin to prickle with a nervous energy. With Thalion out of the way, he could only imagine the damage that would be caused to the Kingdom.

The sound of an arrow being notched should not have sounded so loud next to the rushing of the river below, but Dramorian's thoughts and senses had already shifted to the offensive the moment he'd worked out that someone was trying to ensure Thalion's death. His heightened senses triggered his instincts and his entire body was alert in seconds, all of his training coming to the forefront of his mind. His eyes flicked away from Thalion, who was still caught in the loss of his men, and to the quick glimmer of a sharpened arrowhead over Thalion's left shoulder. As the taut bow string snapped forward, the sound rumbling like thunder as the arrow was set loose, Dramorian surged forward, hitting his Brother's larger form hard enough to knock him off balance and out of the way of danger.

Its target changed in an instant as a thickening thud rang out, mingling with Dramorian's sharp cry of pain, the arrow piercing through his own shoulder. The sound of cloth and skin ripping as the arrow protruded from his back, lost among the eruption of noise. His own cry mingled with the angered shout of Thalion and the thundering footsteps of the guards responding to the commotion. The second arrow hit him with a force that could only be gained from a long bow used at close range. As it embedded three inches lower than the first, the force spun him hard into the low railing, his momentum carrying his bleeding body over the edge and into the freezing current below, instantly lost to the worried eyes of his Brother.