The night grew old, his fellow knights had all lost their sense of decency under the influence of the amber nectar. He though about creating a scandal, pictures of him self naked with a barmaid all over the global network. The press would devour it like a hungry dragon. He was the national hero but a scandal would only make him more popular. He was a ladies man, every straight woman’s secret desire, every gay man's burning dream.
He walked back alone back to the mountain city's Barracks. Rathbourne was a small but well fortified city; old stone buildings intermingled with the steel glory of the modern age. It edged the Rathbourne ranges and the Trigon Alps, the backbone of the western world. Over the east was the wilderness, magic territory, the home of the old magic. He could smell it in the air, calling the dirty blood in his veins. It ran though the mountains, though the stone pavers. The city was so close to the edge. No wonder why the walls where so high and the energy shields so strong. Any second, any day, they could all be facing a deadly Elvish invasion.
These where dangerous streets to walk alone, the best kind of streets. What would be life without a sense of danger? What was life without the thrill of the hunt or the sound of the chase? But for now the death of the dragon had quenched his thirst for danger, his thirst for power… Just for now. He patted the sword by his side, the hilt and pommel where ancient, the thousand year old blade imbued with the latest laser technology a perfect mix of old and new, of old magic and new technology. Bullets could not kill a dragon, nor could lasers but a sword could, his sword could kill anything.
His walk back to the barracks swift and brief, it was nearing midnight, the magic hour. A crescent moon shone in the sky, its sister’s hiding in the shadow of the night. He could hear it calling to him, the earth and all its infinite power luring him in, pulling him in with its sweet scent. He could deny his powers much longer, the innate spring of magic flowing though his dirty veins, was crying to be used. He clicked his fingers, a shining ball of red light forming above his hands; it glistened in the moon light. It was late, all the soldiers where asleep, no one would notice one simple spell, would they?
***
She ran down the old crumbling stone staircase her rough hessian pack strapped on her back, a simple re-curve bow in her right hand. She pushed open the iron doors of the back entrance, her long dirty grey cloak flying behind her. The forest was less than mere one hundred meters away from the castle and all that stood in her way was a small crumbling wall and some of the most powerful wards on the world of Terra.
She closed her eyes. Silver energy leaching from her very pores. She began to run, while in her head uttering complex incarnations, her long Elfin legs carried her far. In her minds eye she could see the shining silver wards, pure magic forming overlapping domes around the castle. The wards only activated when broken and today she was not planning to break them.
Sliver meet with silver as her body moved forward, her own energy melting seamlessly with the wards. She slid though each one, her own energy flowing into each silver dome, for a second becoming one until her body moved forward into the next ward. She knew her sisters magic well, too bad they ignored hers.
She darted across the forest floor like a mad squirrel, her small boot clad feet seeming to fly over the old tree roots. A startled doe jumped out of her way, an owl hooted its large bulbous eyes trailing her as she dashed across the undergrowth. The world seemed to slow as she navigated her way across deep green vines and roots, leaping over old tree stumps, dodging stray animals. It would take at least a good days travel to reach the foot of the mountains but she had other ideas.
There was a tree house in the middle of the forest. Crafted from old wood and vines, it shone with a derelict grandeur. Segueing into the deep browns and greens of the woods with an invisible grace. There was a simple rope ladder, like the rest of the building covered in a rich forest green. She crawled though the small door way; her already scooped hear brushing against the ceiling. Her younger self had not had the wisdom to build a bigger tree house. She touched the runes on the floor the etched writing glowing pale silver, drawing new symbols as she crawled around the tiny space. Long ago this had been an escape from her life at the castle, a place where she could belong and be alone. Free from the dirty looks of her sisters, free from the mocking laughter of her twin. Now it served a more practical purpose, a halfway point for her little forbidden ventures outside the castle grounds. She plopped herself down in the middle of the circle and began gentle breathing exercises. Her breath moved in and out her body sent pulsing waves of energy. Silver ripped of air dancing across the wooden floors making the old stone runes. Silver energy run from her finger tips, growing and growing until it spun around her. She held her breath as it edged closer. The world went black.
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