The Asterian Dream

I: Flames

Fires raged as far as the eye could see. Screams echoed throughout Astraeria as hordes of Draekons descended upon the city in a ruthless charge that decimated the meager garrison of the city. King Ornmar stood upon the highest balcony of his palace, looking on as his city was destroyed and his people were slaughtered. He stood there for a few minutes, seemingly with no emotion whatsoever. Then, he turned and went back into the palace.

A soldier came up to him. "Your majesty, the tunnels have been opened back up. Now is your chance to flee."

"No. I'm staying here. I am old, and I would make the journey slower. You take my family into the tunnels and make sure they escape safely."

"But sire, this is the only chance you'll get! I can stay back and give you more time."

"That is an order, soldier. Escort my family to safety. I am going to stay here and meet whatever fate the rest of my people meet."

The soldier looked despondent. He turned away from the king. "It shall be done, your majesty."

"Wait, before you go. Bring them up here so I can say goodbye."

The soldier left the room, and returned a few minutes later with a small group of Moraks dressed in fine garments. The king met them and placed his hands on the shoulders of the two young Moraks in the group.

"Fasela, Melron. I am staying here. You both will go with the soldier and flee the city." He knelt down and pulled them both into a hug. "May Viviana show you the way, my children."

One of the young Moraks, Melron, began crying as he hugged his father. Fasela backed away and gripped the handle of a shortsword.

"Father, I can stay here with you. I can fight!"

The king gently pulled her hand away from the blade. "No, you must flee. This is beyond your skills. Besides, it is crucial you escape and meet with the High King. The power you possess must not be lost."

Fasela stood there for a moment with a mixture of anger and sadness on her face. Then she drew her blade. "Melron, let's go. We need to get out of here."

Melron slowly let go of his father, his eyes still swollen from the tears. Fasela grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

"Come along highnesses. We need to go." The soldier left the room hurriedly, and Fasela and Melron followed him. The other family members, relatives of the king, finished their farewells and followed shortly after.

The small group ran through the halls of the palace. As they ran, they could hear the yells of the Draekons getting closer and closer. They arrived in one of the wine cellars, and the soldier slid away a rack to reveal a tunnel.

"Everyone in, one at a time. It's a narrow tunnel"

As they were filing in, they heard a shout. Then, they saw a group of Draekons running towards the tunnel, weapons drawn.

The soldier pushed the remaining Moraks into the tunnel. "Run! I will delay them until you can escape!" He then drew his longsword and charged the Draekons.

Fasela was about to draw her blade as well, but her aunt pulled her into the tunnel. As she was pulled in, Melron slammed the door to the tunnel shut and barred the door.

"What are you doing! He's going to die, we can't just leave him!"

"Darling, he's giving us time to flee. We have to take this chance."

"No, I'm not going to leave him to die!" As she tried to break free and run back to the soldier outside the tunnel, she was pulled by her aunt away from the entrance and down the tunnel.

Fasela struggled for a bit, but then realized escaping was the best action. She stopped struggling, and just walked along with them, silent for a long time. Then, she spoke up.

"Alra, what are we going to do? The Draekons have the city surrounded."

"Don't worry. This tunnel leads to Ordon's Pass. We will be far away from the city. We are going to travel to the Citadel, and speak with High King Malek about what has happened here. He will help our people."

"But aren't the Draekons at war with us? Why would Malek listen to us?"

"Malek's kingdom didn't side with the rest of the Draekons. It is safe."

"Good. Wait, does that mean I'll get to see Amethyst again?"

Alra chuckled. "Yes, you'll get to see Amethyst again. I'm sure you'll love seeing her."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The king was being dragged by five Draekon soldiers through the smouldering ruins of the city. He was visibly bloodied and bruised, as were several of the soldiers. They continued to drag him until they threw him down onto the main street of the city. He looked up, and saw someone towering over him.

He coughed and smirked at the Draekon. "Didn't think I'd find you burning down my city after all this time Greydor. Glad to see you're still the Kaiser's lapdog."

Greydor kicked the king in the stomach. "I am no lapdog. I'm doing what I believe is right. You know exactly why we attacked you, traitor."

The king coughed again, this time coughing up some blood. "Right, because helping the Armelites makes me a traitor. They are simply trying to preserve their people."

"Those Armelites are supposed to belong to the Draekonstaat, not to their own petty 'republics'," Greydor said. "And also, they have pillaged and robbed many of our fortresses and strongholds."

"Because you and your Kaiser tried to enslave them."

"We gave them everything they have and asked for almost nothing in return. The least they could have done is show some gratitude."

The king looked confused. "I still don't understand how this makes me a traitor."

"You are a traitor because you fund and supply bandits and rebels. Also, your daughter should have been taken by us for training. You know how important it is. You would risk the destruction of the world as we know it for the sake of petty rivalries?"

The king became visibly angry. "It's not petty rivalries. Your 'Kaiser' would turn my Fasela into a weapon more destructive than anything this world has ever seen."

"And maybe it's for the best. You know what will happen if she doesn't harness her power."

"You already know what I think of that. You aren't going to do anything to Fasela or any of my family."

"Very well. You have chosen your fate Ornmar."

A Draekon handed Greydor a massive double-bladed axe. Greydor raised it high into the air.

"It's time for you to join the rest of your traitorous people." With that, he brought the blade down, and the king's head rolled away from his body.