fellow Hakkadians, and they will come. Until they come we shall wait and play the game, and let us see if the King dares to show his face to me. I think not, knowing we have destroyed a relic that protects him. Has he not fled to Naverstrom to consult with the Princes? Alas, I sense his dragon Keraxes is far, far from the capitol."
A wave of relief flooded over Mistress Lassendre's face and the tension seemed to melt from her shoulders. She whirled around, untethered from concern, and her raised hands filled the darkening sky with silver strands of shimmering light.
"Is it true?" she said, her eyes incredulous. "Would the King leave the capitol so quickly after a siege has threatened his Kingdom?"
"The King is a fool, and in his foolishness he is often wise. But sometimes that foolishness is mere folly. This is the case. He believed the spell cast over you by the Princes of Naverstrom was unbreakable, and in that power he believed I would bend the knee and once again obey him. There is the root of his folly."
The sky revealed whispering wings in flight as the remaining dragons landed around them, save for the great Keraxes. Master Vhelan aim his hands to greet the conquered Hakkadians, and surrounded, he wondered whether he could win in such an outnumbered situation.
"You have kept your word and returned to us," said Master Rennal, one of his elder sorcerers and once most trusted ally. "Now surrender and come quietly down to the lair, as we have much to inform you of our assignment."
If he were to cast the healing spell over the man, then certainly the others would strike him down in quick succession. But it was a calculated risk as Master Vhelan hoped the shield would last long enough to stop them. He flourished his fingers and the golden light surged over Master Rennal's head and a delicate green mist wafted into the dark sky. To his surprise, the other sorcerers didn't immediately attack, they merely gaped at Master Rennal, as if waiting for orders on what to do next. Was the mentalist magic of the Princes of Naverstrom really so hierarchical? Once they commanded their minds did they always look for direction from a leader?
He looked around at the familiar faces of the remaining sorcerers and cast quick curing spells at all who went to move against him. A shield sprung up and blocked his spells, and Master Vhelan knew the battle would prove difficult. Mistress Lassendre came close and with their backs pressed against each other, faced their opponents. The cure had also taken on Master Rennal, and the man sidled over to them and joined forces. There were over twenty Hakkadians rallied against them, far too many for the three of them to defeat. Especially since it seemed they were armed with the power and secret magic of the Princes. Magic that Master Vhelan had tried in vain for years to discover.
"Allow them to cast the first spell against us," he whispered, and the three of them bunched together and kept their eyes fixed on the advancing Hakkadians.
"Surrender to the power of Princes Xanthes, and your lives we will spare." The voice came from an unfamiliar Hakkadian girl, likely one of the youths tainted by the foul air of Naverstrom. The girl's eyes were dull and black, like the eyes of a goat staring at you in twilight.
"Have you lost the spirit of what it means to be Hakkadian?" Master Vhelan kept his voice soft and unchallenging, wanting to tug at the heartstrings of their opponents.
The girl spat and a scowl twisted her once pretty face. "There are no Hakkadians. The Hakkadian people died two hundred years ago when they entered the caves of Naverstrom. Do not attempt to school me, Vhelan, for you'll find schooling an ancient immortal a rather impossible task."
So the girl was possessed by Prince Xanthes... Master Vhelan had seen a few instances of this in the past, but the occurrence was very rare. Why of all times would he choose to do this? Was he threatened by the fact that the sorcerer had cured
A wave of relief flooded over Mistress Lassendre's face and the tension seemed to melt from her shoulders. She whirled around, untethered from concern, and her raised hands filled the darkening sky with silver strands of shimmering light.
"Is it true?" she said, her eyes incredulous. "Would the King leave the capitol so quickly after a siege has threatened his Kingdom?"
"The King is a fool, and in his foolishness he is often wise. But sometimes that foolishness is mere folly. This is the case. He believed the spell cast over you by the Princes of Naverstrom was unbreakable, and in that power he believed I would bend the knee and once again obey him. There is the root of his folly."
The sky revealed whispering wings in flight as the remaining dragons landed around them, save for the great Keraxes. Master Vhelan aim his hands to greet the conquered Hakkadians, and surrounded, he wondered whether he could win in such an outnumbered situation.
"You have kept your word and returned to us," said Master Rennal, one of his elder sorcerers and once most trusted ally. "Now surrender and come quietly down to the lair, as we have much to inform you of our assignment."
If he were to cast the healing spell over the man, then certainly the others would strike him down in quick succession. But it was a calculated risk as Master Vhelan hoped the shield would last long enough to stop them. He flourished his fingers and the golden light surged over Master Rennal's head and a delicate green mist wafted into the dark sky. To his surprise, the other sorcerers didn't immediately attack, they merely gaped at Master Rennal, as if waiting for orders on what to do next. Was the mentalist magic of the Princes of Naverstrom really so hierarchical? Once they commanded their minds did they always look for direction from a leader?
He looked around at the familiar faces of the remaining sorcerers and cast quick curing spells at all who went to move against him. A shield sprung up and blocked his spells, and Master Vhelan knew the battle would prove difficult. Mistress Lassendre came close and with their backs pressed against each other, faced their opponents. The cure had also taken on Master Rennal, and the man sidled over to them and joined forces. There were over twenty Hakkadians rallied against them, far too many for the three of them to defeat. Especially since it seemed they were armed with the power and secret magic of the Princes. Magic that Master Vhelan had tried in vain for years to discover.
"Allow them to cast the first spell against us," he whispered, and the three of them bunched together and kept their eyes fixed on the advancing Hakkadians.
"Surrender to the power of Princes Xanthes, and your lives we will spare." The voice came from an unfamiliar Hakkadian girl, likely one of the youths tainted by the foul air of Naverstrom. The girl's eyes were dull and black, like the eyes of a goat staring at you in twilight.
"Have you lost the spirit of what it means to be Hakkadian?" Master Vhelan kept his voice soft and unchallenging, wanting to tug at the heartstrings of their opponents.
The girl spat and a scowl twisted her once pretty face. "There are no Hakkadians. The Hakkadian people died two hundred years ago when they entered the caves of Naverstrom. Do not attempt to school me, Vhelan, for you'll find schooling an ancient immortal a rather impossible task."
So the girl was possessed by Prince Xanthes... Master Vhelan had seen a few instances of this in the past, but the occurrence was very rare. Why of all times would he choose to do this? Was he threatened by the fact that the sorcerer had cured
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