Mind-Mage: Darkness Rising Saga, #1

By Heather Braegger

A true leader protects his people. Rathan is that leader — he will always defend the innocent.

As the crown Prince of Dreidon, Rathan carries a heavy mantle. The Amidon Mage Kingdom was annihilated in mass genocide, the strongest ally to the Dreidon Kingdom was no more…   Rathan cannot afford to fail his people; he will keep them safe.

Born with abilities far surpassing any Mind-Mage before him, even Rathan cannot unlock the dark magic rituals trapped in Amaiya's mind. Amaiya — the sole survivor of Amidon. Amaiya holds all the answers to stop this from happening again…  That is, if Rathan can keep her alive. The Dreidon people want her dead; the Kurenai Cultists want her alive, but for reasons too unspeakable to imagine. But he will keep her safe, no matter the cost. Rathan will not fail a loved one again.

For nine years, Amaiya's mind has thwarted Rathan's magic. But now, the genocide has started again. The Hargeon Mage Kingdom is in danger of complete annihilation. 

Rathan must join forces with his life-long, irritating rival, Xander the Dragon-Blood, his sister, Leetah, and the dark magic stricken Amaiya. The problem is, Amaiya does not remember a thing. Her mind is dead, with no memories of the massacre nine years ago.

Time is running out for Hargeon. If Rathan and his comrades fail… millions more will die.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heather Braegger
• Release date: Nov 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215052419

Book preview

Chapter 1

Rathan

It was a peaceful day. The sun was shining and there was a slight breeze. The heat of midday was something I could do without. I didn’t want to deal with the chaos of what was coming later this afternoon. I dismounted from my horse and tied the reins to a tree on a lower branch, making sure my mount would be in the shade. I needed some space, a place to draw upon my magic without accidentally hurting those around me. The sounds of the birds in the trees made me smile. Such peaceful serenity. I found a spot in the dirt and sat down cross-legged, my hands on my knees. The cold ground in the shade was relaxing. I glanced up at the long willow branches cascading downwards towards my face, providing comfortable shade from the intense afternoon heat. A light breeze began and my sweat was now cooling my body.

My thoughts were scattered; I needed a place with calm energy. It was highly unusual for me to be unable to focus. It was never a good thing; with my Mind-Mage abilities, it meant I could accidentally injure people.

If my mind was not focused my magical aura could lash out subconsciously—again. I rubbed my eyes. I didn’t want a repeat of what had happened earlier—that would be too much of a mental load right now. I hadn’t meant to explode all the drinking goblets in the dining hall… or destroy the dining room furniture. Even after all my training, people were still overly cautious around me. They feared me, feared a magical aura they couldn’t fully explain. I closed my eyes, thinking. The meeting of the Kingdoms was today, and it would not be a pleasant experience. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen.

It had been nine years since the Amidon Mage Kingdom had been massacred. Nine years and still no answers as to who was responsible. I had to solve this before it was too late. My instincts were always quite accurate.

I thought I felt something— a darkness. An aura that longed for blood. It was only there briefly as if I had telepathically connected with them. If my emotions ran rampant—even in thought—my magic could lash out.

I didn’t understand why I couldn’t seem to shake this feeling of uneasiness.

Today was a meeting of the Kingdoms of the Elandril continent. Every leader would be here today. A political display, but one that was needed. This year Dreidon was hosting the meeting. I rubbed my face again, feeling anxious. Something was wrong; I could feel it. My magical aura was anxious. In the past, our annual meetings were always about the crops, new types of magic discovered, the yearly magic tournaments, and so on. But this time… I felt my eyes growing heavy. There was something…My mind was weary from fatigue, and I found myself reminiscing about the difficult past before the continent Elandril was shattered to its very core.

I summoned my magical aura, my eyes burning as they turned solid blue, and I drifted back to that day nine years ago today, the day that changed everything. Scouring my memories of the day Amidon burned, the images flashed in my mind like a shuffled deck of cards.

The answer was here somewhere.

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Son, you mustn’t let your guard down. A stern voice grumbled at me from above. My head was aching. I stared up into my father’s stern gaze, his dark blue eyes piercing mine. The blade of his aura sword was at my throat. "You must feel the energy around you, he continued. Use it to your advantage. That is the only way you will ever master this form of magic." He retreated to the other side of the sparring arena.

"Now, again!" Father waited for me. He was tall, his dark brown hair flecked with silver, his facial hair neatly kept in a short beard and mustache, the black mixing with silver, his skin a deep tan.

I closed my eyes, trying to piece together what had just happened. Focusing my energy into my Aryandil Hilt, I summoned forth my aura sword. It was a stunning regal blue, the color of my magic energy and personal aura. I could feel the burning in my eyes as they turned solid azure, like my aura. I was ready now. My stance was perfectly balanced, right leg forward, and left leg to the rear. My weight was distributed evenly on my front and back feet, my weapon—as always— directed towards my opponent, in this case, my father.

My father, King Lindon of the Kingdom of Dreidon, was an intimidating sight to behold. His stance was perfect, his Aryandil Hilt and maroon aura blade directed at me, a mere six feet away. For a king, he did not wear any excessive amounts of jewels or a crown. Father had found them to be a hindrance in battle and life. His armor was form-fitting and silver like his graying hair. The emblem of the Dreidon Mage Order was engraved on his forearm bracers. A silver equilateral triangle with pure white energy circling from the outside into the center appeared. His dark blue eyes were focused and unrelenting, his energy as calm as a summer breeze. With one swift movement, his blade moved towards me with speed I had only heard about when father was in battle.

I braced myself, bringing my sword up to block the high attack. Our swords made a high cracking sound as they clashed. I circled my sword around, trapping my father’s blade, forcing his sword to the outside and allowing me to step in for a thrust to his center. With the ease of a seasoned warrior, Father brought his sword across his body, blocking, and with the same momentum delivered a kick to my exposed head. I barely ducked under the kick; I felt the force of air as my father’s shin graze the top of my head. Without hesitation, Father was on the offensive again. A kick landed perfectly square to my abdomen and sent me staggering back several feet. My ribs were aching.

I brought my sword center and countered at an upward diagonal angle. Father easily parried and moved out of the way. I brought my sword down again, then horizontal, attacking with speed and accuracy. My father retreated from the ferocity of the attacks, but he didn’t seem to be worried at all. I smiled, but in a split second, Father had parried my sword high, stepping his hind leg past my front leg, his hips set lower than mine.

Damn! He’d caught me! With a strong grip, he flipped me over his hip, and I landed on my back with a hard thud. With the concentrated burgundy energy in Father’s left hand, he hit my chest. I ricocheted back off the stone training floor, my head cracking the solid rock as I came back into contact. My vision blacked out for a second, and then came back. Warm blood wet the back of my skull. I saw two of him… I opened my eyes wider and blinked several times until the two kings became one. My father was standing over me, his sword at my throat. I breathed in deeply and gasped in pain—Father must have broken a few of my ribs.

Are you trying to kill me…? I mind-sent him. I was using my Dreidon Telepathy Magic because I was—to use our nickname—a Mind-Mage.

No, he replied sternly back.

Father removed his blade from my throat, and I started to sit up, but carefully. My sides ached, and it was hard to breathe. I definitely had broken ribs. I wrapped my right arm around to my left side as warm blood ran down my temples. I used my free left hand to wipe it off.

I clenched my teeth. Father was so much stronger than me. I had been training so hard! Why couldn’t I even make him break a sweat?

Rathan, my father said, kneeling beside me. "You held back. I watched you fight with the Dragon-Bloods at the Grand Magic Tournament barely two months ago. You could have— and should have— easily defeated me here." He rested a hand on my shoulder, and I tensed.

Father continued. You lost because you only focused on your Aura Sword. You did not use the abilities within you. He tapped on my chest.

I knew he was referring to my telekinetic abilities. That’s what some mages called them. I didn’t even understand my skills, or why I was cursed with such overwhelming power. My mother and I were the only ones able to do this type of casting. A mere thought and our aura would cut down buildings.

Since her murder, though, I hadn’t had a tutor to train me. I’d been on my own. My father only possessed the Dreidon Telepathy magic; I had been counting on my mother to train me. I was at a loss on how to properly use it in sparring combat without injuring my training partner severely. The self-control of my mana was what I struggled with, trying to control it accurately with the correct amount of energy put into the casting. That amount of power scared me.

But I had learned only that morning that too much mental power applied to the magic in a sparring match could end up ripping my opponent’s arms off with just a thought. I had only been trying to take my opponent’s weapon earlier today during our hand-to-hand combative training…

Now I felt hesitant. I was afraid of the dormant abilities that lay within me. Just a few weeks ago I’d begun letting loose with my magical aura. I’d won my first competition, defeating the champion who’d reigned for eighty years. I’d thought after winning the tournament I’d have better control of my powers, but whenever my emotions raged out of control, so did my telekinetic abilities. If I put too much power into my thoughts, I could smash chairs and other objects around me and glass would shatter, all because my thoughts were not calm. I hung my head down. Many of the Dreidon soldiers had been unwilling to train with me because of this fact. I intimidated them. My abilities were a paradox to me and everyone around me.

My father called my name. I met his gaze, and he smiled. I knew what was coming next, and it didn’t bother me. I had grown up on stories of how my ancestors had created this magic and how this magic, molded and mastered, saved not only the Kingdom of Dreidon but their continent of Elandril and all the six Kingdoms. Father stood and extended his hand down towards me. I reached up, and Father pulled me close into a side hug. I gasped in pain.

"I had to keep my eyes open this time, my boy! he exclaimed, shaking me slightly. You are getting better. I can’t believe you are only eighteen years old!"

I guess that was a step up from fighting him with his eyes completely closed, but it wasn’t any consolation to me. He wanted me to fight him with everything I had, but I didn’t want to risk it. I had held back intentionally because I didn’t want to wound him, and I didn’t want him to lose face in front of his Dreidon High Guards. He was the ruler, not me. I was not ready to have that heavy mantle passed upon me. Not yet. Even so, my magic abilities were still considered wild. I had aged past the age point of that happening. As a young adult, my magical abilities had not stopped growing, as they did during the later teenage years of any mage. I was very much an enigma. Even though the Council had many answers, none could help or solve my problems.

Father raised his free hand to his mouth and called out, Healer Leetah. We need treatment here for my amazing son! He slapped me on the back, and I gasped again as a sharp pain ripped through my side.

He roared with laughter. My boy, this pain will make you stronger!

I had become very familiar with Leetah. She was the most gifted Healer ever to grace the halls of the Dreidon Castle. She walked over, her pace not quickened, as she was finishing up with another Dreidon High Guard who was injured. Leetah’s long blonde hair hit her hips. She always had it braided and kept out of her face. It swayed back and forth down her back as she began to walk towards me. Her blue dress that stopped just above her knees had a gold sash at the center and emphasized her tiny waistline. She was beautiful; in fact, all my father’s guards requested her and would tell her how cute she was during a healing. Being the older brother, all it took was a warning glance from me to ensure she was treated correctly—like a lady. She would laugh and joke with them. She was a little sister to me. Mother and Father had adopted her from an orphanage when she was just an infant. Leetah and I grew up playing together in the halls of the castle and I felt she was the best little sister ever. Sometimes it bothered Leetah that she had been abandoned as a baby at the Monastery with no answer of who her parents were. But she always said she was happy to have us as her real family.

Leetah had been left on the steps of Master Shion’s Healing Monastery and he’d begun to train her once her Healing abilities had become known.

I smiled fondly as I remembered that day, the day her healing abilities awakened. I had been only eight years old at the time, and Leetah would have been close to seven. I had fallen down a flight of stairs while we had been playing tag. I had lost my balance on the top stair as I tried to come to a skidding halt while running from her. It was the grand staircase, and once I hit the bottom, pain exploded in my left arm. I looked down and saw that my arm was bent in the opposite direction, and I began crying. Leetah came bounding down behind me, calling out for me. Fighting back the tears, she tore at her skirt and began to wrap my arm. Suddenly a crystal light emerged from her hands, and slowly the pain vanished. My flesh and bone pulled itself together and soon it was just as if my arm had never even been broken. Leetah had made me whole with the healing powers just awakening inside her—a rare gift bestowed upon very few.

Master Shion, Leetah’s Master, was a gentle old soul and a gifted Healer specializing in Healing Magic. The amazing thing he discovered about Leetah was that her healing abilities far surpassed his own. That had never happened before. After witnessing her healing of my arm, he had said, She will be the new Master when my time comes.

Now Leetah hastily made her way from across the training hall over to me. She placed a hand on my chest and gasped.

Father! she exclaimed, turning to look at Dad. Why must you injure your son this way? It’s the fourth time this week I have had to heal broken ribs! She examined my eyes, chanting an incantation to make a small beam of light appear to examine my pupils.

He has a concussion, too! she gasped, placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at Father in a scolding way. She was shorter than him by a few inches. She spun away from me and her white Healer’s robes, a symbol of her status, hugged her body. Our Dreidon Mage Emblem was embroidered in silver on the back.

Dad laughed. My dear Leetah, he said, while patting her head as if she were a family pet. Rathan must learn from this pain to survive on the battlefield. He smacked my back again. I fell forward and Leetah caught me. My head went from a minor throbbing to a roar. I cursed the pain, but I had to admit I had caused this myself by holding back.

But— She stopped as we both realized the training hall had fallen silent. Everyone that had gathered earlier to watch our sparring match was now listening intently to our conversation. Leetah blushed as she turned to look at me, embarrassed.

Please heal him, Dad said, pointing to me. Can’t you see he’s in pain?

Father turned his head away from me and shouted, The show’s over! Get back to your training, High Guards of Dreidon!

The room echoed with, Yes, my King! and began to be filled with the sound of metal-on-metal clashing, the high cracking and energetic sounds of Aryandil Aura Swords meeting in heated confrontation, and the unmistakable sound of hand-to-hand combat.

I felt exhilarated. Usually everyone just ignored us when we fought, avoiding eye contact with me. But perhaps I was getting better. I wanted to get healed so I could spar again. Maybe someone else would be brave enough to train with me.

Leetah had raised my right arm over her shoulder and around the back of her neck to help me walk across the training floor to the Healer’s table. The walk felt like an eternity. She was patient and made sure her pace wasn’t too fast. I was grateful for this; she always could sense just what she needed to be doing.

I turned and sat very slowly, bringing one leg up and then the other. I eased back onto my elbows, holding my breath until I was fully in a reclined position. I exhaled slowly, then breathed in, this time focusing my energy on my wounds. It was a technique Father had taught me to use in combat to stop any internal damage until I was able to get to a Healer.

Leetah stood beside me and placed her lightly tanned hands gently onto my abdomen. I tensed; it still hurt. She closed her sky-blue eyes as she went into her healing trance. Her crystal aura emerged, surrounding our bodies. Slowly, I could feel the warmth and sharp tingling of bones mending, and it made me relax as my breathing became less labored. I focused on the ceiling of the training arena, each colored stained-glass skylight a perfect circle. Each one divided into an elongated ellipse, and each told a story of the Dreidon Mages. At its beginning, Dreidon Mind Magic was achieved through rigorous training and meditation, channeling the energy of the mind, body, and soul. By reaching into the power of the mind, it unlocked more than just elemental magic abilities of earth, wind, water, and fire. My ancestors had discovered another entire realm of magic— the fifth realm of mana, the Mind. By training the power of thought, they learned to speak without sound. They were able to halt the Kurenai, and once all Kingdoms united, were able to defeat the alliance of the Kurenai and Demons from thousands of years ago.

Rathan, Leetah said to me as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Your healing is finished. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear, unconsciously playing with her many small piercings of studs and ear clasps that decorated it. When a voice called to her a few Healers’ table over she smiled, waved goodbye, and left.

I heard her shout excitedly, "Oh, a compound fracture! I will have you better in no time!"

Father rested a hand on my shoulder as I sat up. "My son, when you are in combat, you must use everything. You cannot just focus on your weapon or martial arts or defending. You must find a balance and learn to use them all in—" His voice was cut off as the palace alarm began blaring.

My Lords! A High Guard I knew well came running over to our side. He was the captain and went by the name Nithais. His disheveled sandy-blonde eyebrows furrowed as his green eyes locked with Dad’s and mine. I had trained with him on several occasions when Father was away for his duties as the king. Nithais was an amazing sight to behold. His dedication to training had made him an equal to my father’s abilities, and in fact Nithais was almost like an uncle to me. Whenever he and Father trained it had always ended in a draw. Their duels and training could go on for hours. For this very reason, my father had made Nithais his personal bodyguard—and at times, mine, too. When I was younger, the other High Guards would tell me stories of how High Guard Captain Nithais and King Lindon had sparred for one whole day and night. It was probably an exaggeration, but to a young child it made me want to be just like them. Even now I found myself emulating their good qualities. They were honorable and placed the safety of others before their own.

Nithais placed his right hand to his left shoulder and bowed. The Kingdom of Amidon has sent out a distress call through the magic channels. They are under attack, my King, and are asking for reinforcements!

Without hesitation, my father motioned for me to stand and follow. Nithais was right behind us. Dad’s ability to focus and strategize under extreme pressures had always amazed me.

Nithais, what do we know about the situation? King Lindon asked as we entered the training arena in the Great Hall and headed towards the Magic Channel Command Center.

That is all we know, my King, Nithais said. Their distress call cut out seconds after it was sent, and we have been unable to establish contact with them again.

I looked at my father. He looked cautious and concerned. I knew what he was thinking. Amidon is formidable. For them to call for aid is unheard of. They would die before seeking support.

Like a hawk I watched my father. One day I would be ruler of Dreidon, and I needed to learn and become a great leader. He breathed deeply and replied, We will aid them, but not without raising the alarm here as well. For all we know, we could be headed into an ambush—or worse, the enemy could be attacking Amidon just to draw out our forces and leave our defenses weak.

We made our way quickly out of the training area, crossing from the training arena’s worn stone floors to the polished marble and grey granite floors of the Great Hall. The stained-glass windows reflecting our history and past increased my resolve. At the end of the hallway

two high guards standing by the door to the Magic Channel Command Center bowed and opened the great doors for us to enter.

My father turned to Nithais. Nithais, gather seven squadrons of the High Guards. We shall be traveling within fifteen minutes. Also, bring Rathan a suitable set of armor. He is ready.

I was stunned. This meant I would be accompanying him in battle, not just observing.

Without even stopping to be amused by my excitement and anxiety, my father turned to the next guard.

Raise the palace alarm and activate our shields over the palace to protect our people here and in the surrounding grounds. Before the guard could even respond, my father added, If there are not enough High Guards here to provide the magic energy to do so, get them here immediately!

With that, the High Guard was on the Magic Channels calling. At the center of the Channels was a large Lacrima—a giant, white crystal orb almost the size of the room. The electrical static of power hummed as the soldiers sought to charge it quickly for defense.

A guard stood up from her seat and ran over to my father. My King, the Queen of the Dragon Bloods has contacted us!

Put her through.

Yes, my King! the guard hastily replied.

My father walked over and I followed. The High Guard rested her hands onto certain points of the table and her energy flowed into it. Before my eyes a screen appeared. Our magic technology has come a long way, I thought to myself. A woman appeared before us and we bowed as my father greeted her.

To what do we owe the pleasure, Queen Mirada? my father asked.

We have received a distress call from the Kingdom of Amidon, the Thresdan queen replied, her voice calm and collected. Her pale face was beautiful, its tautness defining her cheek bones. Her gold eyes were stern.

We have, as well, my father replied.

Though the queen looked concerned, it was obvious she had already made up her mind. We will be leaving within five minutes with five squadrons of our Dragon-Bloods, she said. We will provide any aerial support needed.

Father’s eyes grew darker as he scanned the incoming messages. It’s worse than I thought. It looks like they are contacting multiple kingdoms for aid.

The Thresdan queen nodded in agreement.

My father and I bowed, and with that the communication ended. I was amazed by the magic channels. They allowed us to keep contact even with distant kingdoms. Within mere minutes we could transport there through the ability of our combined magic energy, though this transporting was only used in emergencies. Normally the transportation channels were closed, because once they were open, anyone or anything with enough magic energy could travel through them at a moment’s notice.

I marveled at the sight of this room. There were twelve stations constantly being monitored. At each station sat a High Guard or other mage at a beautiful, arched mahogany desk. The mage would glow as their magical energy was used to make the small Lacrima work. An orb the size of a dragon’s egg would appear in front of them, allowing them to communicate with anyone at any time.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t notice Nithais’s return. I felt something heaved into my chest and looked down. It was a set of silver High Guard armor, and it was all mine! I had been waiting for this day since I was a child—to be able to be at my father’s side in battle.

My father and Nithais placed the armor over my leather shirt and pants. The chest piece, which differed from the normal High Guard Armor, held the symbol of Dreidon— my father’s Kingdom. The equilateral triangle of balance represented mind, body and soul. It was what we, the Mages of Dreidon Order, used to represent our magic. Before I knew it, my chest, shoulders, forearms, thighs, and shins had the armor firmly in place.

My father spoke to me. This armor was designed by the Elves. It is lightweight but as strong as dragon scales. He looked sternly at me. This will not make you invincible; you are still mortal. Do not leave my side on the battlefield.

Yes, Father, I replied. I had never thought about dying before, although I was no stranger to witnessing death. I had watched my mother die in front of me. Looking at my hands, I realized I still felt that I would never be able to wash her blood from my hands. My father turned away from me, removed an Aryandil hilt from a beautiful silver box a palace servant had brought, and handed it to me.

This was your mother’s, and now it is yours, he said with a tinge of sadness to his voice.

I marveled at the beauty of my mother’s Aryandil hilt; it was silver with sunflowers at the bottom surrounding it. Only one of her Aryandil hilts was recovered after she was—My thoughts were interrupted by Nithais.

My king, we are ready, he said.

We moved out of the Magic Channels and towards the High Guard Command Center and were passed by several guards. The reinforcements for Dreidon’s shielding magic had arrived. We passed across the marble floors through the Great Hall once more, as the guards held open the doors for us. This room was grand. Its walls were lined with Aryandil hilts, armor, and other weapons. In the center of this room was a table, one that when touched showed the map of any kingdom of Elandril once magic was channeled into it. This was the place where all the battle strategies were formed. With a touch of his hand, Nithais pulled up the terrain of the Kingdom of Amidon and pointed.

My King, Nithais said. We will travel to the battlefield from here. My other squadrons are being led by my most trusted men. We will be traveling to the hills of Amidon where we will have a view of the kingdom and its surrounding lands.

Smaller crystals on the edge of the table turned from red to green. The High Guards are at their Lacrima Stations, King.

My father nodded. Rathan, come and lay your hand here by mine. Nithais and my father reached out and placed their hands upon the table. I felt myself grow tense. The magic channels were open for travel, but I had never traveled this way before, only on horseback.

Before me the room became brighter as lights began shooting pasts us at high speeds. The floor disappeared and we were floating in space. Time was no longer relevant. Time raced by and the lights burned bright as the crystals around us. I looked left and right. Hundreds of us were traveling this way. The lights started to slow down, and our feet planted on solid ground. I wobbled and my father steadied me with his hand. I looked to the ground, feeling nauseated and wondering if it was from the traveling. I had never traveled like this before.

A scent I had never smelled before made my stomach turn.

I heard my father and Nithais exclaim in horror, By the Creators! What darkness could have done this?

I looked up and my blood ran cold. The Kingdom of Amidon and its surrounding villages were burning, the billowing smoke almost blocking out the midday sun. In a matter of minutes, some force, large and capable, had rendered the Kingdom of Amidon into burning piles of putrid flesh and countless cadavers. The smell of burning corpses made my mouth dry and then wet. I fought back the urge to vomit.

A roar from above and a gust of strong wind made me look up. A silver and gold dragon descended upon us. I grabbed my Aryandil hilt, but my father took me by my arm, shaking his head. Before my eyes, the dragon landed in blinding gold light. When it turned into a woman, I calmed down. This was Queen Mirada Celestia. Pleasantries were spared.

Lindon, she said fiercely. We arrived minutes before you. She waved an arm, gesturing at the carnage that lay before us. There are no armies here—or survivors.

My father’s face grew dark, his eyes cold. Mirada, there are no survivors you can see from the air. He gestured at her dragons circling the kingdom and surrounding villages. We must search for survivors on foot, he continued grimly. Meet me with your armies inside the palace walls.

Mirada began to speak but shook her head instead. She knew her dragons had keen eyesight and seemed convinced they would have noticed any sign of life. Instead, she nodded and transformed again. With a mighty beat of her wings, she was in the air again with wind so strong it nearly knocked me off my feet. I heard some of the men cursing behind me as they picked themselves up off the ground. I watched her in awe as she soared into the sky, and with a mighty dragon’s roar, her soldiers came to her for a ground search. There must have been fifty Dragon-Bloods. They landed and transformed back.

A familiar face appeared beside Queen Mirada Celestia. It was her son, Xander Ryushin.

His deeply tanned skin emphasized his gaze at me. His heterochromic eyes— one gold, one brown— looked at me sadly. As if sensing my realization, he stood up taller, ran a hand through his messy black hair, and made a more intimidating gaze. I glared back. We didn’t get along, but this was not the time or place for rivalries.

Nithais, my father shouted, and Nithais spun on his heel to look directly at my father. Take half of your squadrons and search the northern villages; leave no stone unturned. Spread out your High Guards and have them search the southern villages.

My king, what about your safe— Nithais’s statement was cut short by my father.

What matters right now is getting aid to those who need it most, he said. I will take one squadron into the city and will be aided by Queen Mirada and her soldiers.

Nithais bowed. Yes, my king. Nithais turned and yelled orders and his men began to move. He bowed to us and then followed his soldiers to the northern part of the villages.

Come, Rathan, my father said sternly. We will turn over every corpse laying here and hope for the possibility of a survivor.

The early day had turned into evening as we continued walking through the carnage towards the palace; the setting red sun was an apt symbol of the slaughter that lay here. The once-beautiful columns of black marble lay cracked and broken, their remains everywhere. The formerly bustling merchants square was now an eerie sight of body piled on top of body, looking like they had been stacked for some unknown reason. There were no survivors— just warm, dead bodies.

Everywhere I placed a foot I was stepping on pieces of human remains. In my mental state of shock, I had to tell myself it was like wading through ankle-deep water. So much blood and carnage lay on the ground. My feet and shins were soaked with the warm fluids from the corpses covering the earth.

I knelt and turned over yet another corpse. This time it was a woman. I turned her head. She’s still warm, I thought. Her eyes, glazed over with the pure look of horror from whatever unknown darkness had taken her life, made me shiver. I knew that look would be forever etched into my memory.

In her arms, I noticed a small bundle. It was a child. I grew hopeful— but it was only a fleeting hope. The infant was dead in its mother’s arms. The wound had almost torn the baby in half and ripped into the mother’s abdomen, spilling out her internal organs. Her hands clutched her small child; she had tried in vain to shield the infant.

I stared in disbelief at the genocide before me. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead. My mouth got dry and then wet, and I vomited again and again until my stomach was empty. My father’s hand patted my back, and I stood up, wiping my mouth. I was ready to search again.

They had no warning, I said to my father, as I stepped around a dead soldier with half his face missing and his sword only halfway removed from its sheath. It was an ambush. But to kill so many Amidon Mages…

I didn’t hear a response, so I looked up. Father had gone over to Queen Mirada, who was slowly shaking her head back and forth while wiping her face. Whether it was blood or tears, I did not know. That made my body feel even heavier. So much meaningless death. There was no mercy shown—not to the men or women, not even the children and infants.

A darker image appeared in my peripheral vision. I whipped my head up and looked towards the palace steps. Was the sun playing tricks on me? Was it an illusion of my own mind, or was something moving down the stairs?

My heart skipped a beat. Someone was coming down the stairs. My feet started moving on their own, and without even looking where I was stepping, I began running and moving around corpses.

It was a survivor!

Before I realized it, I had made it up the stairs. It was a girl— no, a young woman. She must have been close to my age and was drenched in blood. She had a head wound, and her hair was matted from the blow she’d received. Tears streamed down her face, clearing small paths of blood off her face. Her clothes had been torn almost completely off, revealing the underside of her breasts. Blood from a large wound on her side flowed down the leg of her leather pants. Her whole body seemed to be covered in blood; I couldn’t tell specifically where else she was wounded, aside from the fresh blood from the potentially fatal gash on her right side.

I knew if I read her mind, it could send her into a mental breakdown…

I reached up to touch her carefully and held my breath; I didn’t know how she was going to react to me. She pulled back at first, with what must have been the last remaining ounce of her strength. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed forward onto me. With our combined weight not being balanced, I toppled backward a few steps and landed hard on my rear, clutching the girl tightly in my arms. Perhaps it was the shock of searching for hours and seeing no one else alive that made me feel so happy to see her. I turned her over gently and felt for a pulse on her neck. Yes, but it was shallow. Then a grim reality hit me. With this wound and amount of blood loss, she needed help now! I could feel her warm blood soaking through my clothes onto my abdomen.

With a sense of urgency, I searched for anything that I could use to apply pressure to the wound. Carefully cradling her across my lap in one arm, I reached out to the closest corpse, and ripped off a cloak and a large section of garment. As I applied pressure to the girl’s gaping wound, she gasped in pain. I used the cloak and wrapped it around her tiny waist to secure it tightly into place. Then I scooped her up into my arms, bringing one leg behind me to stand and get my footing.

I began running back down the steps, jumping on bodies that littered the palace grounds. I headed towards the exit of the palace, towards the Healer’s tent.

I could see soldiers blocking my path.

Get out of my way! I yelled. I have a survivor! They parted faster than they did for me at the palace. Their voices were excited, but if they had questions, I had no time to answer them. In the next second, I slipped and fell onto corpses, instinctively turning myself so I would not land on the girl in my arms. My heart was racing. I paid the corpses no mind. She was going to survive if it killed me! She had to live! I stood back up; I could feel warm liquid running down my lower back. I paid it no attention.

I heard my father’s voice behind me, shouting for the soldiers to search the palace for more survivors. I had never run this fast in my life, and yet the world seemed to move in slow motion around me. I ran past the palace gates, through the marketplace and the outer village, and directly towards the Healer’s tent. I ran past the guards stationed outside and through the white fabric tent opening. At the first Healer’s table, I laid the young woman delicately down onto the table, softly cradling her head in a resting position, then moved my hands to apply constant pressure to the wound in her side.

Leetah! I shouted anxiously. Before I could open my mouth to say another syllable, Leetah was there. She was the most gifted Healer we had ever known. I smiled, knowing Leetah could save this girl.

In an instant, Leetah and I were surrounded by men and women in white robes. Leetah motioned for me to move my hands from the girl’s side. At first, I hesitated. Then I slowly removed my hands, and as if we were in complete sync with each other, Leetah’s hands were applying pressure to the same wound. At once, she went into her healing trance. Her healing crystal aura surrounded the girl’s body. Simultaneously, other hands came to rest on the young woman.

Minutes passed, which felt like an eternity, and still the young survivor’s bleeding hadn’t slowed down. I looked at Leetah and saw sweat running down her face. Her eyes were focused on the girl.

I mind-sent to her, Leetah.

She’s close to death, Rathan. I need to focus.

I held my breath.

Leetah continued. She is fighting. Her aura is very powerful.

I could feel it. Leetah would not let her die without a fight to save her fading life. I just watched, my heart rate elevated, hoping and praying to The Creators. Please let her live! Leetah was putting all her power into this—every Healer here was. They were fighting to fix the broken body that was supine before them. Each of them was feeling just as desperate and helpless as I was. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the bleeding began to slow down, and within minutes of Leetah’s group healing, it had stopped completely.

I knew I was in the way. I had no training in the healing arts, so I backed up and turned to leave. A strong grip on my left hand pulled me back. I was startled at first and jumped slightly. But when I saw who was holding me, I couldn’t leave. The girl had regained consciousness. Her amethyst eyes pierced mine, seeming to scream, do not leave me! I moved back towards the healing table and put my right hand on top of hers reassuringly. Her hand was small compared to mine. The poor girl was shaking fiercely from the pain and adrenaline ravaging her broken body.

I do not know how long I stood there holding her hand, but slowly I began to realize there was an audience around me. The soldiers from the Kingdom of Dreidon and the Dragon Blood’s Kingdom of Thresda and Hargeon slowly surrounded us. They watched in complete and reverent silence. The tent was filled to capacity with soldiers, and more lined up outside.

A grim and dark reality hit me. Out of the millions of people from the Kingdom of Amidon, she was the only one who had survived. In a single day—no, in mere minutes—this genocide had wiped out the second most powerful Mage Order in the land of Elandril. What in the Nine Hells had happened?

Her grip finally relaxed in my hands, and her eyes slowly closed as she drifted off into a deep Healer’s sleep. The work was finished; she would live. I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt a hand on my shoulder. My father stood next to me, and he had pulled a chair up for me to sit down on. I smiled; he knew I wasn’t going to leave her side. My spike of adrenaline was wearing off now. The grief and sadness overwhelmed me. So much worthless death… I felt tears well up in my eyes and run down my face. I cried until I could not make any more tears.

The night gave way to the early dawn and a crimson red rising sun.

Amidon was no more…

Chapter 2

Rathan

A soft laugh from above made me jump, startled. My body felt heavy from using my mind-scour ability for so long. A familiar face was leaning over me, her amethyst eyes laughing and auburn hair flowing down her shoulders in braids.

I thought I would find you here, Rathan, she mused. When you want to have peace of mind, this is where you always come.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, self-consciously brushing any unseen dirt from my armor. My face felt wet. I had been crying, recalling that terrible day. Completely lost in my own thoughts, I hadn’t heard her approach. I quickly wiped my tears away. Though it had been a day I would never forget, it was also the day Amaiya had come into my life here in Dreidon.

She stood in front of me, her hands holding the reins of both our horses. I stared in disbelief. Had her approach been that silent? I turned to where my horse had been tied and Amaiya started laughing again.

If I had been an assassin, you would be dead, Rathan, she teased again.

As I went and tied my horse up once more, I replied by laughing softly.

You’re absolutely right. I grinned back at her and stared into her lovely amethyst eyes. It was a rare sight to see her smiling. Amaiya often looked so sad, but in our friendly banter back and forth, there was a small spark behind her eyes. I found myself mesmerized by her gaze. It was sincere—not a hint of fear. But something was still an enigma to me: why wasn’t she afraid of me? The majority of the High Guards and Dreidon were.

I was, at times, a wild magic maelstrom. Not intentionally—but even with many years of training under my belt, sometimes my telekinetic abilities would still rampage with a single thought or emotional outburst. I always had to be in check of myself. Unintentionally I had injured many training partners, and after a time they didn’t want to train with me anymore. I didn’t blame them.

But Amaiya? She wasn’t afraid of me. She almost seemed to enjoy the challenge.

I looked at my hands holding the reins. I counted six rings in total and I was grateful again for the master blacksmiths—the Dwarves—who could craft such amazing magical items. On my right hand, the pinky finger and index finger had a single golden ring each. On my left, the ring finger and middle finger had two more. These helped ebb the flow of my overwhelming mana. Mana, the pure life force of a Mage. Very few used it, but it was the real source of our power. It dwelled within every mage or sorcerer like a light, just watching for a spark to ignite it. Once found, our magical aura was revealed.

Mine was blue, and every spell I cast was colored in its hue. I felt a burning sensation throughout my limbs and nerves endings when I called upon it. The challenge was to learn to focus and channel it in a way I could learn to control without ripping off someone’s arms with just a thought. In my younger teenage years each finger had held two rings, but now I was down to only six. It had taken countless hours of mental conditioning, endless spell casting, and conquering a new level of controlling my massive magical aura. I often thought it was like trying to stop a tidal wave with only my mind and willpower to control it. Often it felt as if my magic was like a hurricane or a colossal tidal wave crashing down upon a person who was brave enough to let me practice my telekinetic magic on them or objects in their vicinity. Even my father couldn’t understand it—and my abilities just seemed to keep growing.

I smiled at the thought. What a misfit pair Amaiya and I were. I, a mage with too much power to handle, and her, a mage with barely any magical abilities. It was almost as if they had been locked away from her. I had known Amaiya before the Amidon Massacre nine years ago. She had been formidable then. But afterwards, she couldn’t so much as conjure an incantation. Any magic she could summon was wild and rampaged with the destructive force of a typhoon. Unfortunately, that made gossip, superstitions, and fear thrive so that no one wanted to train with her, either. Thus, we had become rather great training partners for the past nine years. She was tough. Not just physically, either; she possessed a mental durability few had. I respected her strength and perseverance more than anything else. We had become nearly inseparable. She didn’t complain, nor did she blame me when my magic would go wild as I tried to learn to control it. As Amaiya turned away from me and stroked her horse’s face, I thought of how she had been through hell and was still fighting her way back.

She wore a set of our silver Dreidon High Guard armor which hugged her petite curves. Amaiya glanced over her shoulder and smiled at me softly, her soft rose lips upturning at the corners. On her hips were two short swords and hidden under her forearm bracers were retracting blades. In fact, I was sure there were more hidden knives on her, but I never asked exactly where. She would probably punch me in the face.

Everyone was terrified of her and me. That similarity made us training partners, willing to exchange blows with one another as we each struggled to control what our mana did to us. From this, our friendship had blossomed, and we were kindred. I just wished she could remember her own past. I wished I could unlock her mind, unloose all the memories for her. She had so many secrets that had been sealed away—and not by Amaiya’s own doing. What had been performed on her was a ritual magic, dangerous to mess with. Darkness emanated from her like a red halo because of what had happened to her.

In the process of trying to help her, I could destroy her mind and leave her with the mental capacity of a newborn baby. The risk was too high. Knowing I couldn’t help her, even with all my power, left me feeling guilty.

My eyes drifted down to the pendant that lay against the pale, snow-white skin of her neck. It was a beautiful chain made of yellow gold. In the center was a round, beautiful emerald jewel encased in a gold circle. I laughed softly to myself as my thoughts went back to the day nine years ago when I had first seen that pendant—on the day I had rescued her.

After she had gone to sleep in the healer’s tent, I had noticed a rim of metal under her shirt where it had been ripped off. I hadn’t realized just how significant it was until after she had regained consciousness. I had signaled for Leetah to come over and pointed towards the unknown object that was playing peek-a-boo from under the girl’s destroyed garment. At first, Leetah scowled at me. I had no idea why she was so angry until I realized I had been staring at the unconscious young woman’s chest for some time trying to discern exactly what the metal rim was. At once, I felt embarrassed. I wasn’t being a pervert! But the look on Leetah’s face said otherwise. Quickly I turned around, sighing loudly. I probably looked guilty.

Then I heard Leetah draw in her breath sharply. Rathan, she said, her voice shaking,

I turned back around and was met by Leetah’s pale, nearly green face. What she held up was an identification medallion. This girl’s name would reveal itself if we brought it close to her body. Leetah lowered the medallion, and the Amidon Mage Order Emblem revealed itself: a circle that was half white and half black, with an emerald at the center and an arrow shaft and arrowhead at each end separating the two halves. It was their symbol of darkness and light, the one unable to exist without the other.

Leetah and I looked at each other.

This was Amaiya, daughter of the King and Queen of Amidon. Amaiya Amidon. That pendant was how I had discovered her name. Her body had been so bloody and damaged that I hadn’t recognize her by sight.

Amaiya was also known by another name: Sole Survivor. She had been the only Amidonian survivor that day in her own Kingdom. Only she could have known what had happened, but because of the ritual that had been done to her, she couldn’t remember anything—not even her own name or her title of queen… The Amidonian magic and heritage were on the verge of extinction. Mana was unique to bloodlines. It wasn’t enough to study and learn any spell; one must be born with the abilities.

As a gentle breeze made her auburn braids flow in the wind, I looked at her now and wished I knew all the answers.

My mind raced once more. Ever since the genocide of the Kingdom of Amidon, Father has tripled and raised the guard at every outlying city of Dreidon. In fact, all the Kingdoms of Elandril had. Traveling merchants now had magical concealing parchment paper. When certain magic was used by a mage knight, the magic explained their travel business and destination. This, of course, was for safety and caution; they did not want a bandit or group of thieves to rob them and know the exact trade routes of their business.

I looked at my hands again, focusing on my rings. I knew the real question: Was I strong enough yet? Could I protect the citizens of Dreidon and those precious to me? What if what happened to Amidon reared its darkness here? Could I— I shook my head. I wanted to become stronger. I would keep everyone safe, and there was only one way to do that—by training myself to the brink of collapse.

Hello? Amaiya’s voice broke my thought trance. She had come right up to my face and was looking up at me, her eyes concerned. I paused. In her hands, she held a small white box and draped across her arms was a small blue and green blanket. She tilted her head, looking at me suspiciously.

Elandril to Rathan Dreidon. She opened the box and tilted it towards me so I could see inside it. Anyone home?

I just blinked at her rapidly in response. I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t noticed she’d moved closer to me.

She continued playfully, placing a hand to my forehead. Perhaps the heat has given you brain damage. She removed her hand, holding her chin. A quizzical, mischievous look appeared on her face.

I laughed. Perhaps it’s miserable out here today. Wearing a full set of silver High Guard armor hadn’t helped to keep me cool, either. Amaiya was very close to me. Each time I saw her, I marveled at our difference in size. Next to me, she was so tiny. I felt like I could break her, but I knew better than ever to underestimate this female. I scratched my beardless chin as Amaiya’s eyes examined me. She honestly thought I had heat exhaustion.

Amiaya turned from me, opening the blanket and settling it upon the ground in the shade. A wonderful scent filled my nose as she removed items from the familiar white box. She had gone to Orando’s Pastries! My stomach immediately started growling. She sat down, gesturing with her hand for me to sit across from her, and I happily obliged. Amaiya set out utensils for both of us and placed an apple pie slice in front of her. She removed a small mug with a lid, sipped on it, and then removed three small chocolate cakes. I looked at her with a large grin on my face. She had bought my favorite pastry. I leaned over and smelled the chocolate cakes and waited for my favorite part. A small enchantment spell caused the chocolate centers to erupt like a small volcano. It lasted for about a minute, and then I picked up my knife and fork and began to eat. Amaiya sipped on her tea and picked up her fork and began to eat her slice of deep-dish apple pie.

Eating was helping with the horrible heat of the day. After making it through my second cake, I quickly uttered, Thank you for lunch. I was trying to cover my embarrassment for not thanking her earlier. Manners are important, I thought. Then I greedily dug into my last cake.

You know what your father always says. Amaiya paused, and we finished the quote together. Life’s too short; always eat dessert first. We laughed in unison.

I grabbed the other small drink cup and drank hastily. Water. She knew I preferred sweet drinks but was making me stay hydrated.

I couldn’t help but notice her eyes were lost in deep thought. I had a sneaking suspicion of what, but I wanted to talk about something else to ease the tension of today.

So, I said, taking another gulp of water. How was Orando and his kids? I loved his bakery, and because of my sweet tooth I had become great friends with Orando’s family.

Amaiya chuckled. You know, Samson was depressed you weren’t there so he could show off his Aryandil Aura Blade abilities to you.

I felt a surge of excitement. Really? Has his magical aura emerged yet? Can he form a full blade? I sat up straighter, suddenly full of questions as I shoveled the last of my cake in my face. Samson was Orando’s youngest child. Orando was now a single parent, one of the unfortunate few who had a family member that day in Amidon. His wife had been slaughtered in the massacre as she was traveling.

Yes, and yes. Amaiya paused. Samson’s aura blade is a yellow.

I grinned. That is amazing! He’s been practicing, just like I taught him to.

She smiled more, sipping more of her drink, probably her orange cider tea. She loved it.

I hesitated. "How