Thirteen years ago, Prince Kian Vienna's family was brutally assassinated. The crown was stolen by a powerful and cruel king from across the sea. Now twenty-one years old, Kian is setting out to take back the kingdom that is rightfully his and to sa...
I paced back and forth in front of the large map of Drimore. The small, but vital city of Penrith sticking out more than usual. Within weeks, it would be remembered as a battlefield instead of the logging capital of Istrias.
"How many magic wielders have chosen to fight?" I asked Stailon, trying to calculate approximately how long it would take to get our army on the move.
"Nearly all two-thousand of them," Stailon said, smirking, "I guess they have a vendetta to settle. I've never seen people train with such ferocity."
I snorted, "Don't we all? How about our people?"
"Almost all of the men. One thousand, five hundred fighters, and twenty-five healers."
I smiled, relief filling me. We had the force to take Penrith easily. I hoped that our numbers would only grow. However, we would need allies if we were to win against the entire might of the Drimorian army.
"Is it too soon to send an Emissary to Venarden?" I asked.
Mace shook his head. "If we send someone now, they would arrive in about two months. The battle would be won by then and maybe even a few more."
"And if we don't win? What will the Emissary say then? They will have started the journey for nothing." Tyri remarked.
"Not for nothing. Being in Venarden will at least give them a chance at survival," Stailon replied grimly.
After a moment of heavy silence, Vick spoke up, "I move we send an Emissary now. And...um, if it isn't out of line-I'd like to volunteer."
"All in favor?" I asked, not surprised to hear a chorus of consent.
"All opposed?" The question is met with silence.
"Very well then," I said, standing, "Vick, you will ride to Venarden. However, you will take Hestia with you. She's lived in the court all her life, she will know what to say and how to say it. You will also take one of my men to help you stay out of sight and to talk to our contacts about securing food and supplies. As for training, we will begin holding longer sessions. I expect everyone to be battle-ready in three weeks. Dismissed." It felt odd, giving the orders without Zora next to me. The meeting had felt rather empty without the Knight siblings as well. I hated to admit that I had grown rather fond of Areis' goofy humor and Cayra's quiet determination.
"You need to rest," Stailon said, stepping to my side as the others filtered out of the room.
I sighed, "We are starting a war within the month, there is no time for rest. Only for preparation."
"Kian, you haven't slept in days. You'll do no good to anyone if you don't keep yourself healthy."
I brushed him off, going to oversee the training of our magic wielders. "I'll be fine."
Tyri stood in the heart of the cavern, holding a demonstration in front of about two hundred magic wielders. They had been divided into groups for their training: healers, summoners, harnessers, and abstracts. Summoners called their magic to them, people like Tyri who could use their magic to influence the environment around them with heat, light, or any other untouchable force. Harnessers could call upon the elements or objects around them, as Areis did with water. Abstracts were people whose magic came from within them, like Zora's death magic, abstract magic was unpredictable and in many ways indefinable.
Tyri was training the summoners, whose magic generally was less deadly than summoners or abstracts, but could still be used to gain an upper hand in battle. A young summoner stood before her, lashing out with a dagger. Tyri rolled to the side, bringing her own blade up to block his while using her free hand to send a blast of heat to his face. As her opponent flinched backward, she used the distraction to put her dagger to his throat.
"This is how our magic aids us, not to be the weapon that deals the deathblow but to make space for that weapon. A simple blast of heat, light, or anything really could be just enough to give you the opening. If we are to beat the Drimorians in battle, we will have to be more cunning than they are," She said, as the young man she was sparring with rejoined the crowd before her. She spotted me watching from the entrance and smirked. "Pair up and practice," she dismissed them, coming over to meet me.
"Well?" She asked, amber eyes still glowing faintly with her magic.
I grinned, "That was certainly a demonstration, if you can get all of them to fight like that then we might just stand a chance."
"That's the goal. Have you seen Zora? How is she doing?"
"About as well as can be expected, still unconscious but steady," I shrugged, suddenly feeling solemn. "How many more groups do you have to rotate through?"
"Just one more, it was supposed to be Areis's but he's still locked away in his room."
"I'll check in on him. Keep up the good work."
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After making sure Areis and Cayra were well attended to, I made my way back to the infirmary. I was more than surprised to see Zora sitting up, legs dangling off the side of her cot.
"Hey," She said, smiling softly. There were still bags under her eyes, and she still had that rare look of fragileness that only shrouded her when her magic had been used. However, she was awake, and uninjured, and here in front of me.
"Hey."
She motioned for me to sit down next to her, nudging my shoulder with hers as I did.
"How are you feeling?"
She shrugged, "Better, I think. I don't remember much though."
I didn't know what to say. I hadn't told anyone about what I had discovered while going to find her. I couldn't let word get out to anyone who might oppose us allying with the magic wielders. And it wasn't my story to tell anyhow.
I sighed, "Zora, there's a lot we need to talk about."
