The Kingdoms of Strinnlad (Book One): The Rise of Magic

SIXTEEN

Count Maldor was peering down into a large glass sphere. Dark wisps of smoke lay inside of it, and he could hear the sweet sound of people's screams. The necromancer smiled, a bone-chilling smile that could cut through anything. It was a smile from an evil man in the process of an evil plan.

As he closed his eyes, he soon felt the dark strings of magic stream into the sphere from his hands. He opened his eyes to find the sphere had a face in it. A young person's face. His plan was working.

He looked inside it and saw himself fly above the kingdoms. He flew across forests, mountains, hills and villages. Finally, he found what he was looking for. Tornbridge. Just outside the front gate, he saw the three filthy children he was looking for. Rhys, Quinn and Cleo. Those nuisances trying to defeat me. He snickered out loud. They are as foolish as their parents and will suffer the same price.

***

Meanwhile, his army was engaged in a battle with the druids. Tents were in shreds, bushes were on fire, corpses crowded the clearing's forest floor.

A skeleton warrior wearing dirty rags threw an axe at one druid. The weapon hurtled through the air at the woman. She fell to the ground, an axe sticking out of her skull.

Saden shouted a spell which knocked the warrior into the air, turning around to face another skeletal soldier. This one, with a brass helmet, wielding a longsword. Saden lunged forward and thrust his palms out together.

"Myrthollem!" he shouted, feeling the magic rush through his arms, through his forearms, and out of his hands. Saden successfully knocked the warrior back. A quick fire spell scorched its bones, killing it.

Another skeleton warrior came up behind him, standing tall, double the druid's height. Sandria ran up behind the monster and sliced through its calf bone with her dagger. It fell to the ground.

"Rytolles!" she exclaimed. The battle spell gathered in her open palm and propelled itself at the dismantled warrior. The life in the skeleton's eyes disappeared, and its body became just a pile of bones.

Sandria locked eyes with her father from across the battlefield. He was standing over a small fire over the corpse of an undead creature.

"Sandria!" he called, running towards her. His eyes were determined and concerned. She ran up to meet him, and he put his hands on her shoulders.

"My daughter, you must escape."

"No, father. I must fight," she protested, stepping back.

"No. Go. Gather an army with the wizards that came to us," said the druid.

"But-,"

"Go, I will stay here and fight."

She couldn't leave her father in the middle of a battlefield on his own. She was about to protest once again when she saw the shape of a morthound from behind him. As it was mid-leap, she felt herself let out a scream. The hound's jaws opened, and it dug its teeth into Saden's head, decapitating the druid. Sandria let out a gasp and stumbled backwards, her legs suddenly very weak.

The morthound turned to her, and she turned around and sprinted towards her tent. When she approached it, she hastily grabbed what she could. Medicine, food, other possessions. Sandria could hear the treading on the ground behind as the beast followed her. She turned around and, with some sort of shriek, shot a blast of light out of her palm, which knocked the creature back, burning some of its jet-black fur. It whimpered on the ground. She ran towards the forest through sobs. Sandria couldn't think of her father for fear the lump in her throat would start to block her hurried breathing. Blurred trees passed either side of her. Through her tears, the world was a watercolour palette with shades of brown and green washing over her. I must find Rhys, Cleo, and Quinn, she thought to herself. Before it's too late.