New Day

Includes Prologue and the first Chapter. Prologue is more for background so I kept it short.

Beast Soul Chronicles

The Scarlet Dragon

Prologue

 

 

On a world known as Arant, humankind was divided into two groups: those who possessed magic, and those who didn’t. Those who did were called magus warriors, for their ability to combine magic arts with martial arts and weaponry. They considered the power to be their soul made into a force to aid others and so devoted their lives to its usage and practice, learning and developing it. They quickly grew into a powerful force, intervening when their kin decided on war.

 

    Their lives were not peaceful, as they were frequently called on to aid in the extermination of the more dangerous creatures of the world. But even then, their true devotion was to the care of the world. None of them could remember why, only that it was a decree handed down through the generations many long years before. So they took only what was needed, and made sure to give something in return. Still, they did spend much time on protecting those who needed it.

 

However, their tranquility and order was shattered. War came to them, but in a different form from before. Great beasts of terrible destructive power appeared and attacked them, destroying virtually everything they came across. No one was spared from their destructive fury. Not even other monsters.

The war against them raged for a long time, spanning months in duration. Much of the Northern part of the continent Jeren was destroyed in the fighting and the survivors all fled to the south. But the magus warriors remained, continuing to wage their war with the Beasts.

But though they struggled long and hard, their powers were insufficient against the incredible powers the Beasts wielded. The greatest of them was a powerful, serpentine dragon, whom they called Rendroth, a name that meant “Render of the Sky.” This great beast seemed to lead the others and commanded the greatest power. None who faced it ever lived.

The fighting eventually grew too prolonged for the magus warriors to manage any longer. Desperate, in need of more power, they did the unthinkable. They took it from the earth.

Deep underground, they had found reservoirs of magical energy, life-wells, which contained the magical energies that aided the earth in maintaining life. They knew that their own magic originated from these wells and so believed that their powers could be enhanced by drawing on these wells. However, they also knew that doing so could adversely affect the world they lived in and so did not dare do so. But the threat of the Beasts drove them to desperation, where the unthinkable became thinkable. And so they drew on its power.

Empowered, they fought the Beasts, drawing them away from each other to make the fighting easier. But even so, it took days to defeat them. Rendroth fell last of all, the battle lasting nearly a week. But they did not die. The magic used against them was incapable of killing them, as it was supposed to give and maintain life. Instead, their souls and magic powers were torn from their bodies and were sealed inside those who defeated them. Their bodies froze into stone, and could not be shattered by any means known to man. And so the battle ended.

However, the danger was far from gone. The beasts were sealed and dormant, but their lives were not tied to their captors. They had to be transferred into living containers, Vessels, in order for them to be kept prisoner. And so, before each Vessel’s death, they were transferred to a new host. And a never ending cycle was born.

 

Chapter 1

New day

 

 

Kort walked down the lane from his uncle’s house, down into the Sun Village, the morning sun shining on his silver hair, which he wore down to his shoulders. A small, lumpish brown bag was slung over one shoulder. His white cotton shirt and brown leather pants were rumpled and slightly battered, as was the vest he wore. White cloth bound his arms from the wrist up to his elbows, concealed mostly by his sleeves. His intense blue eyes were slightly closed, darkening them greatly and making him look almost as if he was lost in thought. In actuality, he was wide awake. The appearance was simply a deception.

He was fifteen years old and was in the mid-level of his schooling, only a year or two away from being considered ready for the advanced training. He was well known for being talented in magic, as well as soft speaking, but criticized for being lazy in class. Not that he cared. To him, school was just the slow path to achieving a goal. He’d rather read and train.

The pathway led down into the village, which had been constructed at the base of a small mountain range. The land beyond the massive wooden walls was dense forest, home to abundant game, though some fierce predators were known to live there too. The village itself was a sprawling complex, with five hills on the inside perimeter of the walls. Kort’s uncle’s house was on one of these, since he had recently been elected Elder. The other homes belonged to the other Elders. The rest of the town was arranged in rings broken by streets leading directly to the center, with the outside ones being homes. The inner rings, about two of them, belonged to shops, the library, inns, and the school. The final and third ring was a series of storehouses, although one building was also the meeting room of the Elders and another housed the smithy. In the very center was a small grove, inside of which was the Altar of Legend.

Built a long time ago as one of four central villages named for the four Celestial Bodies of Sun, Moon, Star, and Earth, they were the strongholds of the magus warriors and the homes of the Vessels. Kort had been born in this village, though he could not remember anything of his early childhood, since before his mother’s death when he’d been five. In fact, his memory was completely blank before that. His uncle had been the one to tell him he’d been born here.

He walked with a confident air down past the recently tilled fields. It was spring so they would be planting soon. He looked forward to it, as he was one of those selected to help. After all, tending the fields was an assignment given to a selected few during each season. This year, he got to help with the planting. It was to be his first real lesson in giving back to the land what had been taken, an age old dictum.

He took the central road leading down into the town. The path was brown soil and flowed with the sloping land down into the town. All the roads were like this. Unlike the normal humans, they did not see a need to force the land to change to suit their convenience. So they built their village to fit with the land, not mold the land so that it fit the village. Along the way, he saw that others were streaming into the streets, venders out to show off their wares, and students like himself, off to begin their lessons in magic. Somewhere in that crowd, he knew Morin was on his way as well.

In minutes he was in the thick of things, passing by crowds of people off to buy food or trade or just to see what was new. Some of the traders were from the other villages and no doubt had some new things to show off. They would stay for a few days, then gather their things and head out in a caravan, under escort until they reached their next destination. Kort had seen several such caravans and had found them rather fascinating. Perhaps, when his final training was complete, he’d accompany one of those caravans and see what the other villages were like.

He was greeted a few times by people he recognized, such as Mrev, the town baker and an old friend of his uncle’s. He passed by old Treven’s tanning shop and waved at his apprentices, who were setting up for the day. They waved back, but only for a moment; Treven was well known for his fierce temper and dislike of slackers. Kort smiled slightly and continued on.

Upon reaching the third ring, he made a left turn down the street, towards the set of buildings that was the school. He made a mental check on the information he’d absorbed last night on today’s lesson: pure magic.

A sudden blow to the back of his head caused him to turn, only to find himself face to face with Morin, his best friend, aside from Drin. “Got you. You should really pay more attention to what’s going on around you.” he said, laughing heartily. His voice was light and merry.

Kort grinned slightly. “Perhaps, but you do realize that you just interrupted my concentration. I was trying to remember the stuff for today’s lesson.”

Morin grinned wider. “Like you really need that. Your mind’s a sponge. You absorb everything you read.”

The same age as Kort, Morin was almost his equal in height, though he was a lot bulkier. Kort often called him fat, though he was far from it. His hair and eyes were dark, almost midnight black. Sometimes, if his eyes were shadowed right, he would seem to have no iris at all. Kort found this somewhat disturbing, but didn’t mind it. In fact, it was when his eyes were like that that many people were intimidated. He was also very intelligent and his magical prowess among his classmates was well known. Kort was just as strong, but generally did not show it off. He did what was necessary to get the task done and that was all. Morin preferred to flaunt his abilities, though he tended to do so in a comical manner, as if to contradict his more serious friend.

Their personalities were so different from each other, no one expected that they would become friends. But the two of them shared something in common. Both had lost their mothers. Still, Morin had his father, which was more than Kort could claim. He could barely remember his mother; he had no memories of his father.

“I am not that good. If I could remember everything I read I’d be able to repeat it word for word, which I can’t.” He said, in mock stiffness.

“Yeah, well you sure do talk formal. You need to loosen up a bit, maybe go on a date or two.” Morin said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He ducked as Kort threw a mock punch at him. “Take it easy, you know I was only kidding around with you.”

“I knew. I just couldn’t resist such a close target.” Kort said, shrugging and continuing on his way. Morin laughed and ran up beside him.

Together, the two of them went to class.

Their room was actually quite large. Each school building, and there were five of them, had about four levels, each of which was a classroom. The reason they had to be so large was due to the fact that they had to have sufficient room in order to practice magic, as well as martial arts. During magic sessions, the instructor would encase the walls in a type of magic shield, so that misfired spells wouldn’t cause much damage; Kort had seen a few such incidents and was glad of the extra protection. There were also no desks of any kind. To sit, they used large cushions while they listened and watched. The instructor of his class was a veteran warrior named Torn., a man who had once attempted to pull the legendary Scalerent from its stone block. He’d failed, but the fact he had even been allowed to attempt it showed how strong he was.

Kort admired his teacher, but found him to be a bit harsh in his methods and possessed of a tendency of going overboard in training. Still, he did help increase their endurance so that using magic was as much of a strain in prolonged uses. For that, Kort thanked him. Still, there is a limit as too how far someone can be pushed. Kort just hoped he didn’t push them too far.

The two of them found their class on the third level of the fourth school building. A small group of only twenty students, they had been together for many years. The schooling system gathered all candidates within a certain age range and grouped them together, keeping them together for the duration of their schooling. By now, they were all familiar with each other and greeted each other warmly. Kort said his greetings and took his accustomed place near the rear of the room. Everyone gave him space.

It was a while before Torn entered the room. Before then, most of his classmates spent their time chatting away or comparing notes, quizzing each other on the previous night’s homework. Kort simply sat on his mat, reading his own, meticulously written notes, committing them to memory. When he entered, complete and total silence ensued.

Torn was a big man, muscled and darkly tanned. His left eye was covered by a black patch, which covered most of a scar he’d received during battle with a wild grelk. His chest seemed to barely fit his shirt and his burly arms were also scarred. He was an imposing figure, wearing his hair short and glaring at them all with his single, dark brown eye. When they’d first met him, he’d scared more than a few of the girls and boys into swoons. That passed swiftly, though.

As everyone waited, Torn scanned the room, performing a head count. Satisfied that everyone was present, he spoke. “I hope you’ve all done last night’s research homework. Because today we begin our lessons on harnessing pure magic energy and you will need to know how before you can attempt it.” His voice was rough and stern. “To begin, I shall collect your notes to see how thorough you were.”

Everyone groaned, except Kort, who simply grinned at their discomfort. Today promised to be very interesting.

 

~

 

The Council of Elders met that morning, to hear the reports concerning the welfare of the Village and any other important news concerning the outside world, especially the state of the human communities. They were the official deciders, the spokesmen for their village, five in all. Working beside them were the Advisors, whose jobs were to bring their reports before the Elders and aid in making decisions. Theirs was an important job and was vital to any official decision. All Elders valued their opinions.

Today, the Elders had gathered to discuss much darker tidings. For rumor had reached their ears of war. But not just any war. A war among magus warriors, the one thing that had never happened before, in all their long history. Shornin hoped that it was only a rumor, far from the truth. Today they would find out.

One by one, they filed into the great room, located in the final ring of the village. Here, a great round table had been placed, adorned with a small statue of Rendroth, a constant reminder of the danger that continued to exist. Each Elder wore robes of pure black silk, adorned by the badge of the golden sun, the badges of their office. Each of them, with the exception of Shornin and Kaiten, who were the newest members, recently elected to their positions, had old and worn faces. Since they were well past their fighting days, they served their people by making the important decisions and ensuring the enforcement of the laws.

Shornin took his place at the table, as did the others. A man still in his prime, he was dark haired with vibrant, sea-green eyes and known for his calm demeanor and clear thinking. The eldest of them, a man of at least sixty years, sat down last, still vigorous despite his age. As the oldest among them, he was the one who called the meetings to order. “Now that we are assembled, this meeting shall begin.”

An Advisor stepped forward, one of seven present today. The High Elder, named Hevert, nodded. “You have the report ready?’

The man bowed. He couldn’t have been older than twenty, Shornin noted. “I do. Several of our scout parties were able to get close to the Moon Village. Everything seems normal, at least on the surface. Caravans still come and go and trade still flourishes. But there are unmistakable signs of war preparations. They’re gathering supplies and the forges are all being put to use. Exactly who they plan to move against, we don’t know.”

The elder’s murmured apprehensively. “Any reason as to why they’re doing this?” Kaiten asked.

“The scouts reported seeing signs of a recent battle. Sections of the wall had been blasted apart. They said only magus warriors would have been capable of that. No human weapon has that kind of power.” The man heaved a sigh. “I’m afraid that’s all we know right now.”

Hevert sighed. “All right, that will do. At least we know that the rumors have some truth to them. How many of our people know of this?”

“Not many. Only scouts know anything definite and they have been sworn to silence. The rest of the populace only hear the rumors and for the most part seem to be disregarding them.” the man said.

Hevert nodded. “Very well. This will have to suffice. They cannot be troubled right now. And until we know who they’re moving against, we will hold off making our own preparations. Are w e agreed on that?”

The others gave their consent. Hevert nodded. “Very well. Then it is decided. We shall await further developments before making preparations for war. Now, we have another, equally important decision to make.”

Shornin saw a few of the Elder’s look at him oddly and he felt a shiver of fear. exactly what was going on today?

“We must decide whether we should reveal the identity of the Rendroth Vessel to him.”

“Absolutely not!” Shornin’s hands slammed down on the table in fury. The others flinched. “You will do no such thing!”

“Calm down Shornin.” whispered Kaiten.

But Shornin wouldn’t listen. “How can you decide that now? I thought it was decided to leave things as they were?”

“Because he will soon begin to wonder why he cannot remember anything. He will not be content for long. His mind, as you reported, is curious and he possesses that insatiable desire for knowledge. Eventually, he will question and what will you do then. Better we decide to do it while he is still absorbed in his studies.” Hevert tried to persuade him.

“I’m well aware of that. But how can you just up and say we should decide to reveal his identity to him? We don’t even know how he’ll react. For that matter, we don’t even know what effects the sealing had on him.” Shornin continued, standing up.

“That’s why we waited all this time. Before you joined us, it was decided to wait some time and see how it affected him. Obviously, nothing has happened, aside from the fact he has no memory of that night. And no one around him has noticed anything either. So we can assume it will be safe now.” said another of the Elders.

“But you don’t know for sure.” Shornin’s voice fell. “There’s a reason he shut out those memories and I’m not about to let it be for nothing. He’s still not ready.”

Kaiten sighed. “I propose a compromise. A Vessel’s power is slightly greater than any normal person. I say we test his strength to see if he can handle the truth. After all, if his power’s are good enough, if anything happens with Rendroth, he’ll be able to handle it.”

The others muttered their agreement, except for Shornin. His hands trembled at his sides, both from anger and fear. “I won’t agree to this. Not unless we have a better reason to do so. Until then, I am opposed to this.”

The others shrugged. Until there was a unanimous agreement, they could not act. With that out of the way, the Elders turned to other matters. But while Shornin seemed to have calmed down some, inside he was furious and afraid. Why now? Why do they want to do this now?

 

~

 

As the school day came to an end, Kort and Morin headed off to eat lunch in the fields outside the village. The two of them had packed food and were glad to rest after the rigorous exercise Torn had given them that day. He had worked them hard, saying that using magic’s purest form put at least three times the usual strain on the body, because it wasn’t being converted into the energy found in the elements of the world. For that reason, it was also harder to control and drained the user faster if they weren’t conditioned.

“Remember, using magic involves the uniting the body, mind and soul into one force. Magic’s purest form is the embodiment of that saying and is therefore at its strongest.” Torn had said, before setting them about their usual exercise.

As they wandered through the town, the two of them began to talk about whether or not they would be able to use the pure form, called Auri, or aura.

“I think I could handle it,” Morin bragged, while Kort looked over a vender’s wares of jewelry, admiring the craftsmanship. “After all, I’m one of the best in our class.”

“You’re too confident.” Kort said, glancing away and continuing up the central path leading out. “Auri is well beyond your current level of strength. Even I wouldn’t attempt to try it until I was sure of my power. So don’t get cocky and try it either.”

Morin grinned and began to strut, to the amusement of several people nearby. “Ah, but you forget, I am the most powerful man in the world. None can match me in strength!” He began to laugh. Kort struck him in the shoulder.

“Don’t talk so big. You and I have yet to test our abilities against each other. So don’t get too sure of your strength until you actually manage to defeat me.” He admonished.

Morin’s grin never slipped. “Oh, was that a challenge? Who knew you could say it so fancy.”

Kort simply grinned slightly and continued on his way. Occasionally, he would glance up to the sky, watching intently. Morin, catching up, saw the look and knew what it meant.

“So, you expecting Drin to show up any moment?” he asked.

Kort nodded. “It’s nearly time for him to eat. He’ll come to me when he gets hungry. Which, knowing him, will be any moment now.”

Morin shrugged and brushed his hair back. “Man, when will he ever mature?”

“According to a book, when he’s three years old. It’s been roughly that amount of time, so he should be able to fend for himself soon.” Kort frowned as he said it.

Morin saw the look. “Oh, you’re worried about if he’ll stay once he can. Don’t worry. If what I’ve heard is true, he’ll stick around. You’ve won his loyalty after all. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

Kort sighed. “Books don’t always apply to real life. Just because you read about a technique doesn’t mean you can use it. And he’s a living creature, not to mention intelligent. I cannot control him so he can easily decide to leave on his own if he wanted to.”

Morin shook his head. “You know, you worry too much, have I ever told you that?”

Kort smiled slightly. “All too often.”

As they reached the outskirts of town, a red flash of reflected light caught their attention. Kort looked up in recognition. Shrieking a greeting, a small, cat-sized dragon dropped out of the sky, landing gently on Kort’s shoulder. His wings, wine red, leathery and at least four feet long each, folded against his sides. The long, supple neck was smooth. The tail was long and wrapped around Kort’s neck gently. His triangular head had golden eyes and his jaws sported needle-like teeth. The scales of his body were bright red, except for those on his belly, which were burnished gold. His paws had five claws each, and he could use the front ones to grasp food and hold it to his mouth.

“Hello, Drin.” Kort greeted, scratching the dragon below his jaw. Drin made a low noise in his throat, almost like a purr, and rubbed Kort affectionately with his smooth head. Then he began to nose Kort’s bag expectantly.

“Be patient. You’ll be fed in good order.” Kort said with a low laugh. It was in these times that his eyes actually had a spark of life in them. Morin smiled, glad to see his friend lighten up a bit.

“Well, looks like you were right. The little glutton shows up just in time for a meal.” He said. Drin glared at him.

“Remember, he can understand you perfectly, so be careful what you say. Just be glad he can’t breathe fire just yet.” Kort threw him a mischievous look.

“Oh yeah, like you’d really sick him on me.” Morin said in mock terror.

Kort just smirked and continued on his way.

The three of them settled on the grass away from the fields, pulling out their wrapped lunches. Kort also pulled out a small metal tin that contained raw meat for Drin, which stank horribly. Drin however, ate it without complaint.

Morin turned up his nose as he ate his lunch, which consisted of some bread and meat and cheese. “Jeez, that stuff smells terrible. No matter what, I’m never going to get used to that stuff you feed him. Can’t wait until he can hunt on his own.”

Kort simply ate his lunch in silence, looking out over the village, brooding. Morin glanced at him. “What’s with that look? Something troubling you?”

Kort simply shrugged. “Just thinking.” he replied.

“Really? Is that all? You sure nothing’s wrong?”

“No. I’m just a little preoccupied, that’s all. No need to worry about me.” Kort said.

“As if you really need worrying over. Your uncle and cousin do that for you. I’m just here to lend an ear if you need one. You know that right?” Morin asked, cocking his head.

Kort nodded and continued eating. The silence that descended was broken only by the eager chewing of Drin as he enjoyed his bloody feast. But even that eventually faded, for the little dragon was a fast eater. Content, his belly distended, he flew lazily to Kort’s shoulder, where he curled up as Kort wiped away the blood from his mouth with a handkerchief he kept in his vest pocket. Then he capped the tin again and put it away.

The two friends spent most of that afternoon just looking out over the village, letting the wind caress their faces. The grass around them rippled, reminding them of the waves of the sea. After a while, Kort simply lay back, and closed his eyes, settling into a nap. Drin crawled onto his chest and curled up there, continuing his nap. Morin stayed sitting, watching his friend curiously.

He had known Kort for a long time, though they hadn’t actually become friends until after Kort’s mother had died. He’d gone to comfort him, sympathizing with him since his won mother had died giving birth to him. Since then, they’d formed a strong bond, as well as a friendly rivalry. But one thing he’d found odd was that Kort had no memory of their early meetings, long before his mother had died. His father said that Kort had been traumatized by it greatly, since he and his mother had been very close, sufficiently so that he’d locked away a great deal of his memories. However, that explanation didn’t make much since, not anymore. Something else had happened that night, but he didn’t know what. And Kort couldn’t say either, what with his self-imposed amnesia.

Sometimes, Morin believed that during these times when Kort brooded, he was trying to remember what had happened that night. Perhaps this memory loss was also why he seemed so withdrawn at times. It made some sense, but he still didn’t understand. To him, Kort was an enigma, a puzzle that couldn’t quite solve. Sure, he knew what he knew what he was like, but he still couldn’t read past the surface. It was like trying to fathom the depths of a dark well. You couldn’t tell just how deep or shallow the water was.

At last, Kort’s eyes opened, their blue color bright as the sun hit them. He did not sit up, but looked sideways over at Morin. “Tell me, what do you plan to do when you reach the advanced level?”

Morin was caught off guard by the question and took a moment to come up with an answer. “Well, I guess I’ll become a scout. You get to see the world like that, duty aside. What about you?”

Kort looked back up at the sky. “I’m not sure.” He said, softly.

Morin stared at his friend. That was unexpected. Now, how can he not be sure. Everyone else already has plans. So how come he doesn’t?

Kort suddenly stood up. Drin fell to the ground, squawking indignantly. “Something’s brewing down there.” He pointed at the village, towards the pathway that led down from the main gate. There was a dark blotch there, a crowd of people no doubt. Morin stared at him.

“You sure about that?” he asked, unsure. “Maybe someone’s starting a brawl. You know how people are when it comes to those.”

“It’s no brawl.” Kort answered. “I can tell that it isn’t.”

Realization clicked in. “You used your magic, didn’t you?”

Kort nodded. “The sensory technique. You should try it yourself sometime. It teaches you to control the magic. Now let’s go. There’s someone down there who needs help.”

Morin sighed and stood up, watching as Kort started running, Drin flying behind him. “Now he decides to be a hero. Why don’t you ever come and save me when I need help?” Nevertheless, he followed, running hard to catch up.

Kort’s long legs carried him swiftly across the grassy fields, almost effortlessly. Drin glided above him, his wings enabling him to keep pace with relative ease. The little dragon was eager, ready for a fight. Over the past few years, the two of them had formed a deep bond and knew how to fight together. Kort needed no better partner. And if what he sensed was right, they could very well be getting into a fight.

As it turned out, he was right about it not being a brawl. As they drew nearer, they could see that a mob of kids their age had gathered around a figure huddling against a wall. They were jeering loudly and throwing small stones at it. Anger flared through him at the sight and he put on an extra burst of speed.

Within moments, he was among them, swinging left and right, scattering the crowd. “ENOUGH!” He yelled.

The crowd backed away, but they did not run. Kort recognized the group as a gang of bullies, known for their subtlety and ability to avoid getting caught. Kort would enjoy putting them in their place. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Figures you’d show up. Always protecting people who don’t deserve it. Especially beggars.” said their leader, a burly boy wearing a thick black shirt.

“I just don’t like seeing you hurt those who haven’t done anything. Beggars especially.” he added, just to irritate them. Drin hovered by his shoulder, glaring at them, daring them to attack his companion. The sight of the angry dragon seemed to intimidate them, but they still did not run.

“You know, you should just go.” said Morin, coming in behind them. “Kort’s not in the mood for this right now. We just ate lunch. A fight would just spoil the food.” He had his hands in his pockets and was looking completely relaxed.

“Now why would we do that? There’s only two of you.” said the leader.

“Three.” Kort corrected. “Don’t forget Drin.”

“The hell I will!” the leader shouted, charging Kort, fist drawn back to strike him. Drin screeched in alarm.

Kort reacted with incredible speed. Ducking past the fist, he grabbed the arm by the wrist and spun him around. There was a flash of yellow and the crackle of electricity, followed by a scream of pain. The leader tumbled to the ground, clutching at his limp hand. The others gasped and moved forward, but Morin got in their way, a threatening look on his face. Kort glanced down at the fallen leader.

“You won’t be using that hand for a little while. I paralyzed it, but only temporarily. I held back a bit; otherwise it would be your entire arm. So be grateful and go home.” His eyes gleamed dangerously. The gang ground their teeth and walked away, forming a protective circle around their leader.

Morin whistled. “So, that was the Shock Grip, huh? Nice work.”

Kort simply turned around, facing the wall. “Let’s just see who we have here.” He examined the huddling figure. His eyes narrowed. It was a girl.

But she wasn’t like any girl he’d ever seen. She was tall and slim, her clothes torn from hard travel. From what he could see, she was wearing the kind of outfit used for short distance travel: boots, a forest cloak and a thick leather jerkin and pants. A dagger was sheathed at her side. But what he found unusual was that her hair was flame red, a mixture of red and orange. But the color was dulled and her hair was matted and disheveled, covered in dirt, like the rest of her outfit. And her eyes were unique too. The irises were colored a vibrant orange, though they had shrunk in fear.

Heaving a sigh, Kort bent down and offered his hand. “Come on. It’s all right. Those were just a bunch of bullies, looking for an excuse to pick on someone. Most people are usually kind to those in need. Come on.”

At first, she seemed to hesitate. Then, she gasped, and cried out “Kort!”

Bewildered, Kort watched as the stranger flung herself on top of him and embraced him. “I found you!”

Morin stared in total astonishment. “What the hell is going on here?” In the air, Drin cocked his head, curious. Things had taken an interesting turn.

Author's Note

This is only my first real attempt at a book, so it isn't great. But do let me know if there should be any corrections.