The Quickening Chamber was very warm as steam from small pools of hot springs mixed with the cold air of the caves. The queen continued to labor in the birthing and soon produced her first egg. The egg popped out covered in a yellowish-green substance that slid down its surface till it collected in a small pool surrounding the egg and seemed to keep it from rolling around. The first egg was massive as tall as a boy and murky-black. It was so black that it looked to Cara as if it consisted of the Void itself.
“Dragon Elder Duran–” Syllabary began as he stepped back from the line of scribes to the back wall where the dragons stood. His Convey Scroll followed him as he moved, and it floated behind him. Syllabary leaned to the yellow dragon and said, “–that egg is unusually large.”
“It is,” Dragon Elder Duran replied. “I have never seen one of its size before. Maybe it is a good sign. Let us hope our queen can lay a female egg among this clutch. We are in need of a young queen. As the smallest of all the dragon nests, we have only one queen, and she is nearing the time when she shall stop laying.”
“What about the other nests?” Syllabary inquired as he took up writing again with his Blazing Quill. “Can they give you one of their queens?”
“At the moment, they have none to spare. Perhaps when the beginning of this Dragon Rite is complete and there are no females among the hatchlings, you can go to the other nests and see if you can find a queen for us.”
“Maybe I shall. I could use a journey and see country that has some green in its hue. Though as much as I would like to go, let us pray your queen produces an heir.”
Next, the queen laid an egg that was half the size of the first and copper in color. The third egg was the same size as the second and purple. The fourth egg was the same and light blue. The queen paced the area as her labor pains increased.
“Maybe there is another large egg,” Syllabary stated.
“Perhaps,” Dragon Elder Duran said. “Or perhaps it is something else.”
With great difficulty, the queen finally laid the last egg. It was small, very small. The egg was the size of a mellon and pale in color.
“This is vexing,” Syllabary said as he stopped writing. “Is something wrong with the egg?” He moved, walked down the rocky ramp as his scroll followed, walked around the Middle Ground to the Quickening Chamber, and drew near the queen first and once there, he rubbed her nose. He did this to make sure she wouldn't act violently toward him when he approached her brood. Syllabary then examined each of the eggs and came to the smallest one. He spoke, “It has a crack. The small egg may never hatch.”
“Perhaps...” Dragon Elder Duran began. He had followed Syllabary and also looked over the clutch. Duran said, “There are no spots on any of the shells. The eggs are all male. Let us begin the first act of the Dragon Rite.” He turned to the boys gathered and commanded them, “Candidates select an egg.”
Bork leaned to his son and told him, “Remember the plan and act with your head. If you do this, then maybe at least one of you can become a dracoman.”
“Yes, father.”
The majority of the boys, including Turk, rushed to the large murky-black egg.
His two friends followed, and Turk turned to them and ordered them, “Choose a different egg. If we spread out, then maybe at least one of us shall bring honor to our tribe.”
They did as he told them. Barman went and stood by the purple egg, and Cyan went and stood by the light blue one. Out of the fifteen candidates, six stood around the large murky-black egg. Three candidates stood around the copper, three around the purple, and three around the light blue one. None stood by the small damaged pale egg. The boys started stroking their selected eggs and talking to them.
The girl asked Bork, “Master, what happens if no one chooses the small egg?”
“I do not know. Now be quiet, girl,” Bork snapped and then he stated in a low voice, “What a waist? One less egg for the Rite. What a useless thing?”
Cara stared up at him as she saw the disgusted look on Bork's face he had given her many times, but this time the look was directed at the egg.
Dragon Elder Duran heard her question and he answered her, “It shall be cast out, if it is not chosen. It is the rule of the Dragon Rite. It shall be abandoned to another fate.”
“Cast out?” she exclaimed under her breath. “Abandoned to another fate?”
Cara didn't understand why they would abandon a baby because it was too small and maybe damaged. She glanced at her stunted left arm and leg. Was the egg considered useless like her? Did the world also consider this tiny egg unworthy of care and love? She wondered if they would get rid of him because he was different just as her parents had gotten rid of her. Cara had been cast out from her family, and she had been abandoned to a horrible fate. No other living thing should have to go through what she had. Cara felt a twinge of compassion within her heart. All of her life she had been the abjected one. She never let it show, but Bork and his family's harsh words and cruel actions towards her hurt her deeply. Someone needed to protect the egg from the same kind of tormenting rejection.
“Are all candidates set on their choice?” Duran questioned.
“We are,” they all answered.
“It is a pity,” Duran stated as he looked over the small egg. “We have not had a rejected egg in nearly a hundred years. It shall need to be removed. Call forth the Relegator,” he ordered.
One of the dragons who stood guard within the Quickening Chamber walked to one of the connecting tunnels and screamed a dragon call and after some time, a large man entered who wore a black leather mask to conceal his face. He was bare chested and larger than Bork. The Relegator wielded a large weapon. The weapon was made of steel, long, and had what looked like a mallet's head at one end and two spear-like projections at the other end.
“Which one?” the Relegator questioned.
“The small pale one,” Dragon Elder Duran answered.
The Relegator approached the egg, then paused, and glanced at the queen. The queen nodded to him, and the Relegator proceeded towards the egg as he gripped his weapon tightly. He had a wildness in his eyes as if he would break open the egg and eat it. The Relegator lifted the mallet end of the weapon as he drew closer to the egg.
Cara watched in horror. They were going to hurt the egg. She feared he was going to smash the baby dragon. Was the egg so worthless in the others eyes that they would allow it to be killed? She franticly glanced around at the boys, wondering if none of them would select it. She took a couple of steps forward. It might be small and appear to be damaged, but that didn't mean it was worthless or useless. Small didn't mean he couldn't fly.
She realized the boys were too busy cooing their eggs to notice the monster of a man who was going to destroy the rejected one. Cara took a few more steps forward. The Relegator was only a few paces away from the egg as he stomped across the ground in his slow but determined stride.
Someone had to save the egg. Maybe its mother would. Cara looked to the queen, but the female dragon made no movement to save her own child. The queen actually turned her back on the small egg and focused her attention on the other eggs. The queen turned her back on her child just as Hellen had turned her back on her. Cara wondered if the queen was like her father and Hellen. Would the queen simply watch as her child was...
No! Cara screamed within her mind. Someone had to stop him! Don't let the baby dragon die because it was unwanted. Tears welded in her light blue eyes as she whispered, “Someone save the baby dragon. Someone must save him.”
Dragon Elder Duran noticed she moved towards the egg and turned in her direction as the Relegator stood over the pale egg and lifted his weapon above his head.
“Don't let him,” Cara continued to whisper. “Don't let him hurt him.” Tears streamed down her face and before she knew what she was doing, Cara had limped over to the egg and gently covered it with her body, closed her eyes, a
nd screamed out, “Do not kill it! Don't hurt this baby!”
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The Mystic Rose
Part A
The Flower, The Sword, And The Kiss
Kristie Lynn Higgins
Text Copyright © 2005, 2014 by Kristie Lynn Higgins
Cover Art Copyright © 2014
by Kristie Lynn Higgins
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Prologue
A Bit of History
On the planet Terra when recorded history began, Man coexisted with the Necroms. Necroms were intelligent catlike humanoids. The dawn of this period was known as the First Age of Magic. In the Second Age of Magic, a war broke out between Man and the Necroms and by the middle of the Second Age, Man was nearly wiped from creation. Those who survived fled Wellspring and journeyed across the sea into the unknown, finding new homes and creating fortified domains. In the Third and final Age of Magic, Man established five island kingdoms: Commery, Fletching, Morgog, Swelldom, and Hort.
In the First Age of Metal, Man turned from the lost art of magic to the might of weapons as they discovered iron then steel. Large armies were created, and Man fought amongst themselves, forgetting the Necroms into myth. For generations the wars continued until an arranged marriage between the two strongest kingdoms of Commery and Morgog ceased the bloodshed, and so Man established the first Emperor and Empress and the tradition of Amalgamation. When both the Emperor and Empress of the Five Kingdoms died, the two strongest kingdoms' heirs married and crowned a new dynasty, and so began the Age of Amalgamation.
Chapter One
The Beast
“Stand your guard!” Han shouted as he held a wooden sword, taking an attack position against a boy. The commander’s red cape draped his left shoulder and he had short black hair and a trimmed beard. He told the boy, “I shall attack first.”
Blue-gray hills surrounded them as a cool crisp breeze swept through the tall grass. The multitude of knee high blades rippled like waves across an ocean. Edward drew his wooden sword, taking a defensive position. He stood by a large Cobalt Oak in the land of Naught. The silver-blue tree shaded them as a Crimson Jay chirped to the new sun’s cycle.
Edward said, “I am ready, High Guard.”
Five more High Guards surrounded a carriage, watching the fight. They cheered on the boy prince as a carriage driver tended to four horses. The steeds needed water before the last stretch of their journey back to the Fletching Kingdom. The journey to anoint the prince a potential Emperor was over. A little girl with an open book watched the practice duel.
“Quiz me,” she pleaded to one of the guards.
Von took the book, asking, “What is a nal?”
She smiled, smoothed her hands down her plain brown dress, and then answered, “A nal is a measure of time. There are twenty in a day; it's what we call a sun’s cycle.”
“Good...” Von replied as he glanced up and noticed Han was ready to begin, so he hurried the next question by asking, “What is a mite?”
She giggled and then answered, “A nal consists of a hundred mites; it also measures time.” She beamed with pride, knowing the next fact as she said, “There are two thousand mites in a sun’s cycle.”
“Well done,” Von said. “What is a zoc?”
“It measures distance. A horse can run a zoc in six mites.”
“Good, good...” he said as he handed the book back, turning his full attention to the prince and commander. “Let us watch the duel.”
Han thrust his small wooden sword, and Edward blocked.
“Excellent,” the commander told Edward. “Now we need to work on countering.”
Han repeated the attack, and Edward blocked and thrust toward the Guard’s belly. Han blocked and stripped the prince of his sword. The weapon fell near the carriage.
“Never believe you have the upper hand,” Han told him as his face hardened for the sake of the lesson. Edward was so much like his father the King; he was so arrogant and fallibly confident. He wasn't cruel, but self-centered. The commander hoped his future King would be a good ruler, and one with a heart for the people. Han stated, “Let up your guard in the least, and your enemy shall take advantage.”
The prince bowed his head, defeated. He hated losing. Edward spoke, “I do not see why I have to practice the sword.”
Han sighed and then said, “You must learn to defend yourself, my lord.” He leveled his blade on the prince as he added, “You must be able to protect yourself.”
The little girl gasped, dropped her book, and ran to Edward’s sword, picking it up. She ran behind Han, jumped on his back, and placed the wooden blade next to his neck. The girl declared, “Not as long as there are High Guards to protect him.”
Han laughed and then he questioned her, “So little one, are you a Guard?”
“Yes,” she answered.
He grabbed the sword and rolled her off his back into his arms.
Edward kicked the dirt jealous that Han’s attention was on the girl and then he said, “Girls cannot be Guards. Girls are not allowed to handle weapons.”
Han put the child down, looked her over, and then he told her, “You know the prince is right, little one. What’s your name?”
She admired the man towering over her. She answered him, “I’ve only been called girl. I’m...”
“The peasant was never given a name,” Edward interrupted, looking down on the girl. “Her mother died when she was born, she has no father, and so has no name. My mother the Queen took pity on her and made her my playmate.”
Han rubbed his black beard, examining her and then he questioned, “You are what, eight?”
“Nine,” she replied. “Two seasons younger than the prince.”
“Why haven’t you picked yourself a name?” the commander questioned.
She batted her big brown eyes as she replied, “I don’
t know what to call myself.”
Han glanced over those gathered, focused on one of his men who was an Archer, and grinned. He questioned her, “How about Pluck?”
“Pluck?” she repeated.
“Pluck is not a girl’s name,” Edward stated as he sneered, wondering why the commander never picked a name for him. He was the prince. Edward said, “Anyway, is that not the heart, liver, and lungs of a slaughtered animal? Why not call her Entrails?”
Han frowned, shaking his head as he spoke, “Never mind the prince; he can be spiteful when he loses a duel.” The commander turned his gaze back to the girl. A name was very important; it identified who you were, who you could be and once given, no one could take it away. Han told her, “Pluck also means resourceful courage and daring in the face of adversity.”
She smiled as she said, “I like Pluck.” She delighted in how the word rolled off her tongue and that it was something that belonged to her.
“But Pluck is not a girl’s name,” Edward insisted, stomping his foot. “It is not proper.”
“True... True...” Han spoke as he looked to the girl. The prince was right, the name wouldn’t be accepted in the Fletching Court. Han suggested, “Perhaps I should pick another.”
“No. I like it,” she said as she pleaded with her small hands, fearing he would take it away before it was hers. “Really, I like Pluck. Please let me keep it. Something that’s mine.”
Han’s face softened. The poor child, to have nothing in this world, not even a name. He raised his wooden sword, tapped her on each shoulder as if knighting her, and said, “Pluck it is.”
Edward rolled his blue eyes as he asked, “How much longer until we leave?”
Han looked to the carriage driver.
The driver replied, “If we’re to ride nonstop to the castle, the horses should rest a few more nals.”
“We shall wait a few more nals,” Han stated, scanned the prairie, and then he questioned, “Why don’t you play, my lord? It isn’t every sun’s cycle you’re allowed beyond the walls of your castle.”
Edward’s pout vanished as he started, “Well...” He looked over the blue-gray hills and saw a forest in the distance as a mischievous grin crossed his face. “I could busy myself for a nal or two.”
All Worlds: Fantasy And Science Fiction Series Starters Page 3