Dragon Unleashed (Book 1 of the Dragon Mage Saga)

Evil in its Many Forms

Pine needles stabbed into Darla’s skin like needles, but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter that a slight drizzle was raining down on her or that icy breezes, telltale signs of autumn, were pricking every inch of her body.

            Only one thing ran through her mind, dominating her thoughts and controlling each and every movement.

            She needed to stop that Wrecker before it got to the Shadow Master. Because if the Shadow Master got Wimble, the last essence, it would be able to start the Final Fire.

            And that would mean the doom of everything Darla had ever held dear.

            Why did this all matter to her anyways? Her parents had abandoned her, a deranged little girl, at a mental institution when she was so young and naïve. They had lead her to believe that she was a freak show.

            She wasn’t a freak, an animal, or a psychopath.

            She was a monster, and monsters wouldn’t be afraid.

            Darla plummeted forward into the sky, letting her dragon form free. She braced against the brisk winds, following the clump of black swirling into the woods. A silvery shimmer of a bird was braced against it, a ghost of the beautiful raven it was once contained it. That was all that was left-a whisper, a trace, and inkling of life and soul and spirit.

            She’d save it. She’d rescue Wimble, the bird who had flown so freely. He wouldn’t be a pawn in this sick, twisted game.

            And neither would she.

            Darla raced forward, fighting against the rain which was growing harder and harder by every second. It had been so sunny and bright just minutes ago…maybe this was Mother Nature’s way of saying that all hell was about to break loose. The calm was over. Here was the storm, a strong and ferocious blaze that threatened to overpower all of Pharix.

            She zipped closer, ducking through the tumble of leaves that crowned each tree. She could see each detail of the Wrecker and Wimble’s essence, but they were moving too fast. Her dragon size crippled her as she struggled to maneuver through the labyrinth that was the mountainside forest.

            To the underground, to the tunnels, to the interconnecting pathways

            To the gateway, to the portal, to the world between worlds

            The master will get what it needs

            Ah, power and might and vengeance

            So bittersweet on my lips

 

            She ducked down, moving faster than a bullet. Right when she was about to clasp onto Wimble, the Wrecker evaporated along with the final essence.

            No. When did the Wreckers learn how to teleport? Maybe they already learned how-she didn’t know much about the ways of the devils and their dark, gruesome magic.

            What were those confusing words the Wrecker had projected into her mind? Something about a world between worlds, interconnecting tunnels….

            The Caverns! Darla remembered the death trap of a railroad system that served as a portal between the human world and Pharix. It had been so long ago when she, Ruby, Charles, and Earl Hannigan crept into the wobbling wooden cart and were flung off into an expansive oblivion.

            She closed her eyes. Teleportation Magixes were especially difficult, but this needed to work. She remembered every last scrap of detail about the Caverns-the rocky, jagged walls and the spider web of railroads that spiraled around, leading into shadowy tunnels. She could see it perfectly, a fresh image so vibrant in her mind.

            The golden fire erupted around her in a cloud of fury and blinding magic. When Darla opened her eyes, she wasn’t in the dreary, rainy forest.

            She was in the Caverns-the bottom of the Caverns, underneath the winding airborne tracks. It was a large, dark area of dirt floors and mountainous walls.

            Standing in front of her, framed by a massive pit of fire and flocked by two Wreckers, was Laurel Crowe.

            The hero of Pharix. The mighty savior of monsters. The godsend, the queen, the worshipped and blessed one.

            Here she was, a kind smile painted on her worn face.

            “Laurel?” Darla whispered. “Is that really you?”

            “It’s really me,” Laurel murmured, stepping forward. Her fingers brushed with Darla’s. Chill and ice rushed through her veins like a frosty river. “I’m not an astral projection. I’ve been alive all this time.”

            “So the Shadow Master didn’t kill you,” Darla replied, knitting her eyebrows together. “Then why were you hiding? Pharix has been so afraid. If you were alive and well, why didn’t you come help us?”

            Laurel’s eyes met Darla’s like a crackle of burning fire. Cinders and ash, smoke and shadow. They were all there, contained within those sparkling orbs.

            “Stupid girl,” she sighed dreamily, twirling her chestnut hair around a finger. “I thought you were like me, darling. The incarnation of golden fire. Ah, it appears I am the only mighty Dragon Mage.”

            Everything clicked. Laurel’s presence in her dreams, that one time by the creek, her sudden disappearance…

            “You,” Darla spat as everything clicked into place. “You’re the Shadow Master.”

            Laurel grinned, laughing.

            “I guess you’re not as dumb as you look, darling.”