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Five Dragons: TLoP: Chapter 14: Magic for Beginners


Gloomy clouds moved back and forth in front of the bright moon and brought an eerie shadow play over a dark fortress. The black stronghold towered imposingly into the white moonlight. Derelict armors moved behind the battlements of the outer wall and let the threatening look of their yellow-red eyes glide across the grounds.

Inside the castle, there was a faint echo of quick successive steps through the long corridors. The person had a serious expression on his face and was holding an open letter in the right hand. With a heavy jerk the gate had pushed open into the throne room and he entered the high hall. Two voices buzzed across the room.

The servant hurried to the stone throne, but did not find his master alone, as he expected. A strange figure hovered next to him and was wrapped in a gray robe, which was decorated with some strange symbols. Five of them were familiar to him, but there was one more. One that he had never seen before. He couldn't see the man's face in the shadow of the hood.

Kargesh and this stranger talked tense: “How complicated can that be, Kargesh?” Asked the apparition vigorously. “The right people are needed, those with a strong enough soul.” The necromancer explained with a deep, weak giggle, holding his bony hands together, his mask fixed on the stranger. “Soul vessels have enormous demands.” He added with amusement. “Which unfortunately increasingly limits the selection of potential victims.”

The stranger looked silently at the silver mask. Kargesh held out an open hand. “Just don't worry.” He started. A small, violet shimmering cloud contracted above his palm and took the form of a gem, embedded in a metal ring that looked like a self-engulfing snake. The head-sized stone shimmered with two colors. A dark fire red, which changed seamlessly into a flowing night blue. A shadow moved in the vessel and looked like a beating heart.

“Arkas was so, friendly.” He boasted with a dark giggle. “And does it work? Could it absorb the Guardian's essence?” The apparition asked seriously. “That, and a little more, hehehe ...” Kargesh replied with a purple glow in his eyes. “How?” Asked the stranger. Four tall people appeared behind the unknown. Heavy plate armor enveloped their musty bodies. Purple lights glimmered gloomily from the lifeless eye sockets behind the closed helmet visors. “With the help of Arkas’ essence, I was able to break the spell seal and free Mustaine, Broderick, Ellefson and Drover from their eternal captivity.” “The generals of the northern realm?!” The stranger interrupted in surprise. Kargesh curvedly approached his interlocutor and looked at him with his violet look. “Not THE generals of the northern realm.” The necromancer looked greedily at the large figures. “Now they are MY generals of the northern realm!”

“If my claim is made, they will fall as my shadow over the land like a putrid disease. Life will be absorbed greedily and my power will be strengthened!” He turned to his throne. “They will be the harbingers of my triumph!” He announced aloud up to the ceiling, holding his arms apart. His diabolical laugh echoed across the room.

“And the essence of Kyleth?” The apparition asked skeptically. “From a dead guardian you cannot rob the essence.” Kargesh raised his arm and opened his hand. Another spongy picture of dark purple smoke began to form above the putrid palm. An identical jewel to the one from earlier could be seen. But with the difference that the stone had no color. “Kyleth will have to wait. This one is for Wyverex.” The dark lord closed his hand and the image of the empty soul vessel evaporated at the same time. “But don't worry. The ritual for Kyleth’s essence will be successful.” A weak laugh accompanied his last words.

“And what about the preparations for this?” The stranger surely asked. Kargesh glanced briefly into the void before turning to the unknown. “Do I hear a faint hint of impatience there?” He replied with a malicious glint in his eyes. The stranger looked back silently. “Just don't panic. Every move takes us one step forward, provided you are right with Minerva's skills.” He added darkly. “Because if Roland does not survive the process, our agreement is invalid!” He briefly turned his gaze to the four generals and nodded in silence, to which they reacted at the same time. They raised their right fists to their left shoulders and lowered their foreheads forward. Then they left the room with heavy steps.

“What is so important about him?” Asked the apparition curiously. Kargesh approached him and raised his eyes, which was accompanied by a quick sparkle from his silver mask. “This is not part of our arrangement.” Came the serious answer. “Well, hopefully she'll be as cooperative as you say.”

The stranger raised his head. “With the right incentive, she will. And as agreed you can have Roland after the ritual, everything else I will ...” He broke off his sentence and frantically turned to the new man. A quick gesture and the stranger disappeared into a ring of flames shortly afterwards.

Kargesh looked at the servant with a crooked posture. “What?!” He threw angrily at his feet. The man flinched in shock and paused for a moment. After swallowing empty, he finally took the last steps towards his master. “A message from Sorlacom, master.” He said slightly shakily and held out the letter.

The man under the silver mask greedily grabbed the document and hurriedly read it. The threatening sparkle in his eyes grew brighter, accompanied by a dark giggle. “What an extremely welcome coincidence.” He gasped eagerly.

“The mercenaries you requested have also arrived.” The messenger reported submissively and nodded once to his master. Then he silently left the hall. “Everything takes shape. Hahahah!” The servant left the throne room and his master's diabolical laugh accompanied him.

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A tense mood prevailed in a meeting room in Drakensang. Several uniformed emissaries from Kaladros, Ordenary, Moredhel, Sullfar, and Athellion had gathered around the map table.

Harkin frowned, leaning over the spread maps on the round table. Other men were also in the room: all with a very concerned look on their faces. To the decorations on their armors, they were captains and generals. Mardon was among them.

“The reports are vague at best.” One of the men reported. “But we shouldn't ignore them.” Harkin touched his chin thoughtfully. The white dragon claw holding tightly around his neck. “Vague, at best?” He muttered skeptically. He fell wearily into his armchair and took a deep breath. “Such reports have not appeared for generations. This was long before the Hunter-Wars. The Sorati had wiped out this plague back then. Why now again?” Lost in thought, he watched the map area of Kaladros. “Are there any news from the Dragoners that were sent to Tura’an?” Asked the king wearily. “None, sir. They waited in front of closed gates in vain.” Replied a captain. “I didn't expect it otherwise.” Said Harkin worriedly, looking at the map area that was labeled with Tura’an. “The most powerful army in Daracoss and they all keep their feet still.”

“They've always kept themselves covered.” Another general began. His armor bore the standard of Haven. “During my entire period of service, this army only appeared once. That was when the troops of the hunter's were uprising at their gates.” He indicated the location of the Tura’an city on the map. “The soldiers of the insurgents did not stand up to the defenders for a single day. And after this massacre, the fortress settled down again as if nothing had ever happened.” He took a serious look around. “And if the undead don't even get them to act, I wonder if they're waiting for an even bigger threat. Because the priests are telling ...“

“I only know, that we can't wait any longer!” Interrupted Mardon, beating his fist on the edge of the table. Angry, he pointed to a point on the map that was further north of Stormwind, the capital of Sullfar. “A smaller village, roughly in this region, is the youngest victim of this shadow.” He said hesitantly. “The riders of the Stormcliffs also report ...”

“The youngest?!” One of the men cut him off. “At Wyverex's shadow, what are you going to wait for?” He threw plaintively around the group. “Once this threat reaches Parem, it will be too late to prevent panic across the country. The rumors are already bubbling up at the top. We cannot easily handle a refugee wave of this size.”

With a loud bang, an armored clawhand smashed down on the tabletop and hit a hole in the large map underneath. The hole protruded from the far north of Sullfar, on which the city name Tristram could be read. The unmistakable scream of the gryphon instantly brought silence to the room. His coat of arms on the red ribbons on the breastplate of his armor showed a pointed mountain with two feather wings, a gryphon-head with a little crown above the forehead and a claw-hand with four talons with a broad crown underneath. Aravoz was embroidered with squiggly letters on the velvet fabric. “When the threat reaches Parem?!” The angry gaze of his violet eyes wandered between the other men, cooing. “Sullfar is already on this front now! Before even the first corpse can knock on your gates, they eat their way through our ranks first! What is happening right now!” “What do you mean by that?” Harkin demanded to know. “You haven’t seen one yet, none of you!” He stared annoyed at the hole in the map. “It started in Tristram, a week after the Split-Mountain event. In the meantime it has also reached Stonefall.”

He stared at the marked city for a long time. “I saw Tristram myself.” Aravoz began to tell reluctantly. They could see, that it must have been very disturbing pictures. “There were no warnings, no alarm signals. Just a black shadow that covered the area. It painted the landscape like an ugly, spoiled scar. We just saw, that we were too late.” His hand circled a small area south of Tristram. “My Talons and I circled here, when we noticed the rising smoke.”

“At first we thought it was a robbery, but when we got there we saw a more hideous picture. This overwhelming aura was hard to bear. Even the air you breathed seemed to freeze your lungs. The purest battlefield, bloody signs of battle, but no dead bodies. Neither by any attackers, nor by the defenders. The doors of all the houses had been broken open and the interior was devastated. This was not the case of simple looters, since the valuables had been left behind. Deep rub marks marked the mud on the streets and led everyone from the dwellings to the chapel of the five.”

“A somber veil hovered around the chapel. A low fog of death that swept across the numerous, open graves. All buried coffins had been desecrated. The resting places had strangely broken out from the inside out. The stone steps leading up to the entrance to the church also showed bloody marks. The brown color of the mud gave way to the deep red hue of blood that stretched up to the defiled pedestal in the center of the hall. The stone pedestal was drenched with the coagulated lifeblood of numerous victims. The blade, responsible for this massacre, was in the priest's impaled skull. The metallic snake protruded from the forehead of the man, whose lifeless eyes looked dully from the ceiling. His skeleton hung in the chains that were stretched between the pillars and his chest was open on the outside. The still burning roof was the last testimony to the gruesome deed that had taken place here. Dried symbols were written around the base. These signs were not like any rites or incantations I know of.”

“I've never seen anything like that. As if the guardiandragons themselves turned away from this place.” Shaking his feathered head, he finished his report. “In the north of the Gryphon-Rock, there are only lifeless ruins and their inhabitants are no longer living.” The gryphon ran his hand over the map and pointed with a claw tip across the drawn areas north of the Gryphon-Rock. “In cooperation with Stormwind, we have drawn a line of defense so that it does not spread further south. In the current situation, it is sufficient, but if their number increases, we will have to face a far-reaching epidemic.”

“What do we intend to do about this?” asked another general. His banner showed the colors of Moredhel. “Well.” Harkin began firmly. He rose from his chair and gave the group a demanding look. “It seems to me that the time has come for ...”

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A warm sun was constantly climbing the horizon. Only a few clouds crossed their bright shimmer, which fell on the roof of the Ironwing estate.

Roland had just had a very nice, if not necessarily relaxing night and wanted to spend some time next to his dragoness in the following morning. Only someone had planned a different procedure for him, because there was an impatient knock on his door.

With a little reluctance, he turned the key and unlocked his room door. In a hectic movement he opened it and looked into a skeptical looking face. Timmy stood in front of the door frame and eyed Roland with his head tilted. He looked at his tousled hair and glanced shyly into the room. Kyndle was dozing peacefully on the bed. His questioning expression slowly changed to an astonished face. “So yes after all!” It came out of his mouth, strong as if fired from the crossbow. “I knew it.” He nodded in confirmation as he put his hands on his hips and lowered his head with his eyes closed. Shortly thereafter, his eyes widened in shock and he looked at the confused Roland in his strange posture. “What?!” He asked in shock.

Tim looked at him motionless for a moment. Then he shrugged his head quickly. “Well, uhm, yes, breakfast is ready, and that since, uh, long.” He added a little awkwardly. Roland's eyebrows furrowed. “All right. I'll be right there.” Slowly he pushed the door shut again.

Taking a step back into the room, he turned his back on the entrance. Roland exhaled indignantly and let his forehead sink forward. “Oh, man!” He thought aloud to himself. Timmy stopped in front of the closed entrance and stared at the ceiling in amazement as he exhaled strongly. “Oh, man!” It came softly over his lips.

Five silent minutes later Roland came out of his room, fully dressed. He closed the door quietly and then looked skeptically at Timmy, who was still waiting. The latter stared a little lost into the void. Roland stood next to him and then, like himself, looked into the upper corner of the hall. “What's there?” He asked Tim in a whisper. He shrugged his head slightly between his shoulders. Once shaking his face, he started to go ahead. “Uhm, nothing.” Came the quick answer. Roland followed him skeptically.

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In a clearing in the Widow-Forest, two men sat in the grass. One held his arms crossed and looked at his colleague. “Do you think he'll still find the way here today?” Torben said wearily. Aaros smiled slightly in his meditation. “Without a doubt.” He replied quietly. “He might be here earlier if you hadn't given the message to Timmy, and delivered it yourself.” Added the mage, amused. “Yeah, it's my fault now, isn't it?” Complained Torben. Aaros smiled quietly to himself and went back to meditating. Meanwhile, his colleague got up, but continued to watch him intently.

Torben walked closer to him, staring intently into his collar. Aaros grimaced grimly. “What's wrong?” He asked. Torben's eyes widened in surprise. “What happened to your tattoo?” He asked curiously. “What should be with that?” His comrade asked skeptically. “Well. It's gone.” He said, pointing his finger at the now vacant area. A big smile made itself felt on Aaros’ face. “Just like yours.”

“Really? Why that?” Torben remembered again with a slightly overwhelmed expression and scratched his neck. “Very easy.” Began his colleague. “We are now in the service of Kyleth and her fellow. All oaths and signs from the past are no longer valid.” “Hmm.” Torben thoughtfully said, as if he didn't know what to do with these words. “There is more to the prophecy and the guardiandragons than you may admit. And it is almost a wonder, that you even noticed it.” Added Aaros with a smile. Torben closed his eyes, smiling weakly, shaking his head.

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Tim pushed the door into the dining room with a lot of swing, which immediately caught the attention of everyone in the room. Daniel looked at him seriously and shook his head. Timmy stopped in the doorway for a moment and looked casually at the many faces. He then cocked his head to the side and strutted into the room, giving Daniel an I-must-tell-you-something look. Roland also entered the room and nodded tiredly to the persons. He looked skeptically at Tim, who dragged Daniel a little nervously into the kitchen before sitting down at the table.

“Can't that wait?” Daniel snapped annoyed. Tim looked at him wide-eyed and took a deep breath, as he raised an index finger. “Uhm, no.” He added long-winded. “You remember that I heard these noises last night.” Daniel looked at him seriously. “Of course! And because of your disturbances regarding this little imagination, I haven't closed my eyes half the night.” He added grumpily. Tim looked at him with wide eyes. “No imagination.” He argued excitedly, waving his finger. “You won't believe me, but ...”

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A tall man leaned over the bar counter and looked thoughtfully down into a half-full glass. He looked grumpily at the gently sloshing content. With a slight clearing of the throat, a violet spark flashed briefly in his red eyes. Exhaling slowly, he reached for the glass and raised it to his mouth. “Well, if that's not my big, quick-tempered friend.” A seductive voice sounded in his back. A long-haired woman elegantly moved past him in her blood-red dress. Her also red glove slid gently over the man's broad shoulders.

“I'm here, Liz. So what do you have for me?” He asked the lady seriously and looked at her skeptically. Lizbeth leaned against the bar counter on his right, demonstratively showing off her backless dress, which brought her a few excited looks from the other guests. “What? Straight to business? So without foreplay?” She remarked gently. The woman put a hand on the man's shoulder and leaned against him. With the other hand she stroked his bald head. The man shrugged once to free himself from her touch. He ignored the deep insight into Lizbeth's neckline and gave her a demanding look. “Get to the point, girl!” He ordered loudly. She looked at him slightly disappointed. “Ohh, we're in a hurry today, my pretty one.” She whispered in his ear as she ran a finger down his cheek. “I don't remember you so hastily.” She said with a shady smile.

He grabbed her hand and jerked it down, staring at her. “Again. Get to the point, girl!” He repeated, this time with a purple sparkle in his eyes. The fine lady sat on the stool, slightly disappointed, and gave her tall guest a weak smile. “Oh Larzarus, no time for little Lizbeth. But if you really want to.” She complained. Her look, however playful before, suddenly turned into a serious business face.

“To make the long story short, your refugee is as if swallowed up by the earth.” She reported decisively and looked at the man soberly. “You told me you had something for me!” He said seriously. Lizbeth looked slightly intimidated into his malicious eyes. After a short moment, however, she had caught herself again. “I mean to say, that he is hidden by people who have a great influence. Too great for my girls.”

Larzarus growled from his chair and angrily threw his glass on the floor. “Then you are just as useless as the assholes from the brotherhood!” He said angrily and left the tavern breathing heavily.

A few moments later, a red-haired woman emerged from the back room. She carried a massive battle hammer on her back. “Why is he actually searching for him?” Asked the woman Lizbeth. “It is not he who is looking for him, more the one who is holding his leash.” Answered Liz. “But you, Patricia, are not here to ask questions.” She added. “I still think it's a bad idea.” Patricia argued grumpily with a weak shake of her head. “But I owe it to this family.” After a while, she followed Larzarus out of the bar.

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Timmy wobbled a little awkwardly in the kitchen, waving his arms ignorantly. “Is that even possible? I mean, uhm, dragon and stuff?” He gave Daniel a completely overwhelmed look. His colleague exhaled once with his eyes closed and looked up at the ceiling in amazement. “He can't be serious?” He thought to himself as he rubbed his forehead with his hand.

He raised both hands and looked at Tim seriously. “Now take a deep breath and sit down. You're just making me nervous with your hectic fuss.” Daniel pulled out a chair from under the table and set it down in front of Timmy. The latter looked at him a little puzzled, while he performed further strange-looking gestures with his hands. “I just mean. So, uhm, I just can't really imagine how ...” “You don't have to.” Daniel interrupted. “It's Roland and Kyndle's business alone.” He determinedly raised his index finger in his direction. “And you'd be wise to leave it at that.” Tim raised both arms and looked slightly disturbed. “But I can't ...” “You can!” Daniel interrupted him again. “And you will!” He added firmly. His nervous colleague looked at him with wide eyes. He stood upright, closed his eyes and exhaled calmly. “Fine. As you want.” He said with a raised index finger. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which he held out to Daniel. “Then you give Roland this note.” Tim handed over the letter to him before leaving the kitchen. “I need something to calm down now.” He muttered under his breath.

Daniel also left the kitchen, the letter in hand. Roland was sitting a little absent in his chair. His mind was buzzing around Kyndle at the moment. This little daydream broke off when Daniel placed his hand on Roland's shoulder and held out the folded letter to him. “I don't know for how long he should have given you this, but here.” He said with a small smile. “Who, Tim?” Roland asked wearily. “Exactly.” Daniel replied, sitting down in the chair next to Roland.

Roland looked at him slightly curiously. “What did he have to tell you so urgently?” He wanted to know. Daniel sank his forehead slightly with his eyes closed. “Maybe you could help me with that.” He began. “I know that Kyndle spends every night in your room with you.” He looked at the young man somewhat embarrassed. “Yes, that's right.” Roland argued slowly. “Well.” Daniel continued, waving his hands around a little. He had a little difficult to find the right words. “He now seems to be convinced that she has now spent one night with you. And since, I don't take everything Tim says for true, I wanted to hear your version of it.” He looked at him for another quiet moment. “Assuming you want to talk about it at all.”

Roland retreated into his thoughts, terrified. “Oh man!” He thought aloud to himself. He wanted to avoid exactly such a conversation. Suddenly he was torn because he hadn't expected it so early. His inner voice bombarded him with words: “What should I do now? Lying, it would all be the same as before until the next embarrassing moment? Or make a clean table right away and accept the many shocked looks? Will they really be shocked? How will they react? What would everyone think of the fact that the fellow was in bed with the dragon he was imprinted to? The pervert of Ironwing? Demoted to an outsider? Stamped as abnormal? Completely unde...?”

He wanted to scream out loud, but in the confusion he heard an unmistakable “Meep”. Roland came back from the inner battlefield of his head and looked into Daniel's amazed face. He looked surprised at the entrance to the dining room, where an orange-red female dragon had just pushed open the door and was walking towards her companion. She slid her head under Roland's arm and looked at him with her deep blue eyes, the turquoise sparkle of which was unmistakable. He returned the warm visual contact and placed his hand on her forehead, which elicited a gentle coo from the female.

In his mind he could clearly feel it, as if she was offering him a hand and was helping him on his feet. In reality, an orange-red dragoness was at his side. “Had she noticed my panic?” He wondered. Kyndle's little nudge with the nose quickly confirmed his suspicions. A faint smile appeared on Roland's face. He grabbed her head with both hands and gently pulled her towards him. Kyndle closed her eyes as she felt his forehead on hers.

“Should I tell him?” He whispered to her. The dragoness gave a low “Churr”, leaned closer to him and then began to purr gently. He released his touch and slowly stroked her cheek with one hand. The bright turquoise shimmer of her eyes lit up. He could feel it deep inside.

Roland raised his eyes to Daniel, who looked at him confidently. After a long breath he looked at him seriously. “Well. It is ...” He started hesitantly. “Yes, she is my mate now.” At his last words, he let his gaze fall into two beautiful, blue dragon eyes. Kyndle cooed quietly, put her forelegs on his legs and lifted her head up to his. Roland put a hand on her cheek. She happily closed her eyes and purred softly. With the face tilted slightly to the side, the lips of the young man and the orange-red female dragon met. Their tongues nestled lovingly in a loving kiss.

Daniel widened his astonishment, but had to smile slightly embarrassed. The other staff also breathed a sigh of surprise. After the beautiful touch of the lip, he got up and nodded to the two lovers. “Nice for you both.” He congratulated them and walked past them out of the room. The two lovers looked into each other's eyes, tip of nose held against tip of nose, and the dragoness’ soft purr was in the air. The other people in the room, who turned their curious and at the same time astonished looks at both, did not seem to bother the new couple in any way.

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In a tantalizing place, called ‘The War-Sister’, a dour-looking but well-armored dwarf sat at the counter and kept pushing his glass from one hand to the other. He had a heavy war hammer on his back with a wrapped sword. The handle of the blade looked very old and worn.

“What leads such a gem like you to such a beautiful place?” Asked a lady from behind. She sat down elegantly next to the little guest and delightfully put her free legs on top of each other. She was wearing a tight green dress with a wide cut in the matching skirt. The top seemed to barely hold up to the lady's magnificent bust. “I'm Sandra, by the way.” She whispered playfully to him, leaning far forward, which wonderfully flaunted her plump neckline.

“Nice for you.” Grunted the dwarf without looking at her. “And now piss off again.” Afterwards he took another sip from his glass. The lady waved condescendingly to the unfriendly guest and stalked to the next opportunity.

“Kumash Gor. Nice.” Came a monotonous voice from his back. With a skeptical expression on his face, he turned to the source. Surprised, he looked first into empty space. When he lowered his attention, however, he stared into two thick, round glasses of another dwarf, who was looking at him with a strange smile under his beard. “Is that a joke?!” He threw it in front of his feet and looked around the room. “Hey, I told the first one already, no interest.” He added with an angry look. “Now get off! Breathe the air away of someone else.” He nodded exaggeratedly to the side. The second dwarf raised his hands in the negative. “Misunderstanding. Message: From me. Name: Barnabas.” He said dryly. Kumash raised his eyebrows in surprise and scratched his chin under his beard. “The Great Dragon Expert, huh?” He eyed the figure from his bar stool in surprise. “Well, I wouldn't call that great.” He commented amused and reached for his glass. He raised it in a push. “What do you want from me?” He asked curiously with his eyebrow raised. “As far as I remember, you already wanted to meet me at the Split-Mountain.”

Barnabas adjusted his glasses and stood up straight. “Wanted? Yes.” “What is so important now that it justifies my detour in this dirt hole?” Asked Kumash Gor again, but this time with a serious expression on his face. The dragon expert took a step towards Kumash. “No time. Explanation too long. Fact. You, a fellow.” Barnabas argued soberly.

Kumash's eyes widened in surprise. He looked nervously at the dwarf through the thick glasses. “What do you mean by that?” He threw at his feet, tense. “Signs clear.” Barnabas began monotonously. “Weapon: From Guard of the Temple. Split-Mountain. Symbol on the neck: Arkas. No doubt.” Slightly shocked by the dragon expert's information, he lowered his head thoughtfully and put his hand over the sign on his neck.

“Sitting. Now.” Kumash said to the other dwarf. Barnabas did as he was told and placed himself on the stool next to him. With a sullen look he looked at the glasses wearer. “I have no idea why you are so burning interested in that, but…” He stared at him gravely. “I don't want to know anything about this so-called prophecy-shit.” He definitely raised a finger. “I just want to find the asshole that killed my father. And Arkas offered me a chance.” Barnabas looked at him in confusion.

“So.” Kumash started again. “Since you have been here already.” He looked at the dwarf, “The Guardiandragon told me, that a certain Roland could help me find this dirtbag here in Parem. Do you possibly know someone like that?” He asked with a slightly crazy look. Barnabas exhaled strongly once. The disturbing stories that circulated around this Kumash Gor did not really do justice to his big presence. “Now. Actually …”

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In the Widow-Forest, two souls roamed through the thicket. A young man who thoughtfully carried a piece of paper in front of him and behind him an orange-red female dragon who was happily strolling around and occasionally glancing in love at her partner. “That's ... Hmm.” Roland skeptically turned the paper in front of him, while he embarrassedly returned her lovely visual contact.

With the paper lowered, he looked back and forth between the trunks and bushes. “It has to be somewhere here ...” However, he dropped the note unexpectedly when something was thrust him in the back. An amused “Chirp” filled the air as he stooped to pick up the document. “So you think that's funny?” He turned to his partner with a big grin on his face. The dragoness’ amused coo was the answer. A turquoise spark alternated between their looks.

Behind her he saw the shape of a larger stone. He examined the directions in his field of vision. “There!” He said aloud, pointing to the trail alongside the stone. Kyndle chirped happily and took a few steps ahead. She stopped and gave him a playful look as he passed her. He smiled into her beautiful blue eyes. “We ..” PENG! His sentence broke off with a collision.

Startled, the orange-red female took an aggressive posture and growled at the man who had joined him. Roland quickly regained consciousness. As if out of reflex, he grabbed his sword and held out the tip of the blade to the stranger. The unknown was thrown to the ground by the collision and remained in his seated position. He raised his hands submissively. “Roland, no!” He called anxiously. Kyndle immediately returned to a more peaceful posture when she recognized the voice. “Conrad?” Roland asked surprised. The man pulled back the hood of his cloak and Conrad's face actually came out. “What, by the Five, are you doing out here?” The fellow wanted to know, as he put his weapon in and gave him a hand to help him up. Conrad reached for the offered help and straightened up again. “I'm breaking a promise.” He replied ashamedly as he brushed the dust off his pants.

“What promise?” Roland asked again. “One that I gave my mother about you.” Conrad said, pointing a finger at him. “After a heated discussion, I had to promise her, that I wouldn't want to attend your magic training.” Roland noticed from his tone, that it was very uncomfortable for him to refuse against Catherine's words. But the lure of magic was probably stronger than that. His look undeniably betrayed it.

Conrad put a hand on Roland's shoulder. “Do you allow me to attend your training?” He asked hopefully. “I won't be in your way either, honestly.” Roland saw it in his eyes: He wanted, no, really demanded to be there. “I'm not so sure about that.” He said skeptically. “What about your mother?” “She doesn't have to know.” Conrad argued quickly. Roland glanced thoughtfully at Kyndle, who immediately nodded his approval with a gentle coo. “Fine.” He began confidently and raised a finger in front of Conrad's face. “But you can explain everything, if she find out of it.” “Which she will for sure.” He thought afterwards for himself. Conrad's relief brought a big grin to his face.

“Well then.” Said Roland, stroking his dragoness’ head. Which elicited a gentle purr from her. With his face tilted, he looked at the directions again. Conrad stood next to him and also tilted his head to one side as he looked at the paper. Kyndle sat on the floor and watched the two of them staring at a piece of paper in their funny posture. Half closed her eyes, an amused cooing escaped her.

Conrad quickly pulled the directions from Rolands hand, turned it 90 degrees and put it back between his fingers. “It should be better now.” He said dryly. Then he pointed with one hand in the direction from which Roland came when they collided earlier. “That way, by the way.” “Fine.” He muttered under his breath, pressed the paper into Conrad's hand and waved Kyndle to him to go ahead.

On the way Conrad began to talk extensively about his fascination for magic. He knew numerous magic formulas and could even recite complete summons by heart. With a disappointed expression on his face, he also told of his lack of an access to it. Roland listened carefully to his words. It was a new and pleasant experience for him, to see him so talkative, because otherwise he never got beyond his everyday clearing of the throat. He still thought what a magician could do with his knowledge. But fate seemed to have determined another way for him.

Another hour passed before the small group finally reached the destination. Roland walked around the tree trunk into a clearing, in the middle of which he recognized Aaros, who was sitting on the floor meditating. Further away, Torben leaned against a rock and raised his eyes to those who had arrived. “It took a long time.” Aaros greeted him as he got up and went to Roland. He raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw his companion. “Ah, Conrad. Then did your mother change her mind?” He asked him with his cloudy look. “Yes, she did.” He replied slightly shakily. “Certainly not.” Added Aaros, shaking his head and smiling. “But good. She doesn't have to hear it from me, does she?” Conrad heard his words with a relieved sigh.
Aaros sat down on the floor in the middle of the clearing. Roland took a seat across from him. Kyndle lay down next to her partner and looked intently at the magician. Between them lay something on the floor, that was covered by a fabric blanket. “Let's start with the basics.” Aaros began confidently. “Magic essentially works much easier than you might imagine.”

“The numerous stories about old magic words, which release enormous powers are all wrong. The only known magic with words is summoning. However, this requires immediate knowledge in the language required for this and also the correct formulas and ingredients. For elementary magic, it is usually enough to imagine the effect you want to achieve.” Aaros raised a hand in front of his face, palm up. He exhaled calmly and twitched his fingers slightly. With a faint crackle, a small flame flickered over his hand and burned like a torch. “If you hold on to this thought, your access will do the rest.” With a smile, he waved the small fire around. “However, some wizards say it quietly in front of them, so that they can concentrate better on it.” Again, he exhaled calmly. He began to murmur some unintelligible words. The little flame increased in intensity and began to run like a liquid over his fingers. She covered his entire hand as if he had put on a glove. Looking at the flames, he breathed weakly against it and the fire went out as if the wind had blown it. “It is up to each caster to decide whether it really is easier.”

He paused for a moment, when his tipsy expression became more serious. “But don't be fooled by such tricks. Every use, be it such show-off tricks or something else, consumes the willpower of the caster. And this is limited for everyone.” He looked at Roland demanding. “You know you have an access to magic. When was the last time you used it?”

Roland didn't have to think long about it. “Five years ago, when ...” He started hesitantly and glanced at his dragoness. “When Kyndle was caught by bandits. Back then, I didn't do it consciously. I was just scared.” Again he crossed his eyes with his partner. “Scared?” His teacher asked thoughtfully. “Fear for her.” Argued Roland, looking into his dragon's worried eyes. “I was just angry with these men at the moment. The rest happened by itself.” “Anger, so.” Said Aaros softly and pulled the blanket off the object.

In front of him on the floor was a long staff with a crystal tip. A vague memory image suddenly formed in Roland's mind. Kyndle glanced quickly at her partner and closed her eyes with a low cooing.

This was not the first time he saw this staff. One of his pursuers from that night had one with him. He stood on the edge with his back to the cliff. He saw the ominous glow of the purple crystal clearly, before he was stopped by his leader. And at that moment he could see Aaros’ face under the hood.

Coming back from memory, he looked at his teacher suspiciously. “That was you then, wasn't you? You both?!” He threw plaintively at him. “These lightnings were your work!” Aaros exhaled with his eyes closed and then looked at his student with his cloudy eyes. “I speak freely.” He started seriously. “Yes, it was my lightning spell and yes, I was with you on that cliff that night. Torben was the second man under the coat.” Without taking his eyes off Roland, he went on, watching his reactions. “Together with Larzarus we had the order to bring you back.”

“Larzarus!” He repeated the name several times in his mind. At last the murderer of his mother had finally a name. His anger against this man flared up and was burning badly now. He felt a powerful force pulsate in him, it ran through every fiber of his body. His clenched hands trembled as he glared at his teacher. The mark on the back of his right hand began to flicker faintly.

“To bring me back? Why? To whom?” Roland asked angrily. Kyndle felt his awakened memories of that night, as well as the pain of his loss from that time, but these were overshadowed by his anger and prevented her from further access to him. Rather, his anger spread over to her, wrested control. With a raised lip, she showed her pointed fangs with a low growl, the pupils of her deep blue eyes, which were contracted into slits, also aimed at Aaros.

The magician continued to sit there without a reaction, talking calmly. “We didn't know that. And we didn't have to know either. It was an easy delivery job that Larzarus had given us. We knew the name of the target person and the place of delivery.” “Just a simple delivery job!?” Roland repeated the words. The air vibrated around him, and a strong gust of wind chased the treetops around the clearing. Torben looked up at the sky and sat up. He released his crossed arms and grabbed Conrad by the collar, who was watching the conversation with fascination. Without saying a word, he dragged him behind the big rocks. Conrad's nervous waving could not change that.

“Claire's death was not planned.” Aaros continued calmly, his dull eyes always on Roland. “Don't mention her name!” He demanded with anger. Something gloomy echoed in his voice as if something powerful was speaking through him. The symbol on his hand shimmered brightly with a bluish glow. “If that wasn't planned, why did she die in that night?!” Roland asked darkly. A strong gust of wind came down from the tree tops and circled the tense conversation. Kyndle stood on all fours, her claws firmly on the ground and hissed at the magician. Smoking tongues of flame warned of an impending burst of fire from her mouth.

Roland saw the picture of his injured mother in front of him: he felt the fleeting warmth of her hand on his cheek, saw her desperate tears in her eyes as she sent her child away into the dark.

Aaros took a quick breath. “Larzarus wanted to know where you were go.” He started again. Hearing that name again fueled his anger. The force of the gust of wind also increased. Just as the fiery flickering in the dragon's throat grew stronger. Her threatening growl joined the dull hum in the air. “And when Claire didn't answer, he broke her neck.”

“NO!!!”

Roland hit both fists in front of him with enormous force and the pent-up force released with a cramped posture. Kyndle demonstrated her searing fire breath at the same time. The gust of shock from the strong wind combined with the flame of the dragoness and created a high pillar of fire in the middle of the clearing. At that fleeting moment Roland thought he saw a figure in front of him. Large, shady outlines of a man who turned away from him and finally disappeared into the flames.

A huge, blazing shock wave swept across the clearing. It rotated quickly, piled up in a large spiral, and stuck up over the leaf canopy. The trees nearby could not withstand the scorching heat. The fire shrank the thick trunks into black coal columns, which collapsed under the pressure that followed. Finally, a huge gust of air smothered the flames and swept away the remains. The thick cloud of dust hovered over the smoking clearing, which slowly sank to the ground.

Conrad pulled his head between his shoulders in shock as the hot blast swept over his cover. After a brief moment of silence, he ventured a curious look at the clearing. He burned his hand on the hot stone as he walked around it. He frantically pulled his hand back and rubbed her hard on his pants leg. Frightened and amazed at the same time, he looked at the picture that was created under the dusty curtain. Aaros pushed the purple shimmering staff into the ground in front of him. A wedge-shaped area extended from the staff towards the magician, the only area that had been spared by the flame aisle. Roland coughed heavily on his hands and knees, gasping for air. Kyleth's mark on the back of his hand flickered with his angry heartbeat. Kyndle gave a worried “Meep” and put one of her wings protectively over her partner. She licked his cheek trustingly and nestled her head gently to his. The teacher fell back exhausted and shakily released his wand, making the purple glow disappear. Breathing heavily, he looked around in astonishment.

“My ass!” Torben's voice echoed loudly through the air as he emerged from behind the smoking stone. “On the other hand, a volcanic eruption is the purest child's birthday!” He added with a wide look. “That was ... close.” said Aaros wearily. “Too close, for my taste!” Emphasized Torben.

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In the Ironwing garden, a man lay comfortably in a deck chair and let his dreamy eyes glide over the landscape. A faint crackle came from the glowing embers and continued through the dry tobacco. Exhaling the thick smoke with relish, a gust of wind caught his shoulder-length hair and tore the smoke towards the northern forest. Watching the wind chill relaxed, he noticed how the tree tops suddenly tilted sharply inside. With his eyes closed, he took another deep breath of his sedative. At the same moment a blinding light flickered over the trees and a strong gust of wind swept from the forest. The legs of the deck chair collapsed and the man fell backwards. Roughly lying on the floor, he opened his eyes in astonishment. A high, dark-black cloud shot up into the sky in the middle of the forest and briefly showed the image of a roaring dragon's head. Holding his hand up, his gaze dodged several times between the rolled tobacco in his fingers and the dark shadow. With a widened look he coughed out the smoke and a slow “Wow" came out of his mouth.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..


The dark-black cloud hovered over the clearing and slowly began to dissolve. A charred area stretched out below.

Roland knelt breathing heavily in the middle of the smoking remains. Kyndle lay next to him, one wing around him, she pressed her head against his worried. He put his hand on his dragon partner's cheek and pressed her gently against him. Breathing heavily, he listened to her soft purr. Kyndle leaned against her partner. In her mind she tried to figure out, how it could happen that her consciousness could be displaced by his anger. She noticed everything, but was no longer in control. A fact that terrified her. For a fleeting moment she was afraid of losing the contact to him. With tears between her closed lids, she snuggled closer to Roland.

Aaros sat up heavily and looked around intently. Looking at the smoking remains, his eyes moved to his student. He lifted his head wearily and looked at his teacher in confusion. “You carry really powerful magic around with you.” He said matter-of-factly and went up to him. “Now that we have awakened your access again, it is now time to train him.” He explained with a weak smile and held out a helping hand.