The Dracomancer

Bellowed the Dracomancer

Vivian approached the magnificent castle. Its grandeur takes her breath away. The towering spires reach towards the heavens, casting long shadows over the lush gardens below. The castle's exterior, adorned with intricate carvings and colorful stained glass windows, is a testament to the craftsmanship of a bygone era. Her footsteps echoed through the grand entrance as she stepped inside, greeted by the opulence of the castle's interior. The walls are adorned with exquisite tapestries depicting scenes of knights and dragons, while chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, casting a warm and inviting glow.
She couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder as she explored the castle, imagining the stories and secrets within its ancient walls.
Vivian stepped into the Grand Hall, her eyes widening at the sight before her. The hall was vast and adorned with tapestries that depict a heroic tale. The ceiling soars high above, supported by majestic stone pillars that seem to touch the heavens. Vivian felt the air filled with grandeur and history—the Mystic Castle.
In the center of the hall, a magnificent long table stretched out before her. It is adorned with a lavish display of culinary delights, a feast fit for royalty. The table is laden with platters of succulent roast meats, glistening with juices and adorned with fragrant herbs. Golden bowls overflow with vibrant, freshly picked fruits and vegetables—their colors feast for the eyes. The aroma of spices and delicacies fills the air, enticing Vivian's senses.
At the head of the table, King Theodore awaits. A regal figure dressed in delicate garments that shimmer in the soft candlelight. His presence commands attention, and his eyes sparkle with a mix of anticipation and warmth. As Vivian approached, he greeted her with a gracious smile. His voice carried the weight of authority and kindness. "Evening," Theodore says. He gestured for Vivian to take a seat at the table, inviting her to partake in the bountiful feast before her. The chairs are ornately carved, their velvet cushions inviting her to sink in and enjoy the company and the food. Lining the walls, prominent men dressed in silver-plated armor grip their swords tightly to their chests, standing guard for what could happen.
"Evening," says Vivian nervously. Her eyes scanned the malevolent platters before her. She couldn't help but marvel at the attention to detail, from the delicate silverware to the fine crystal goblets that await her use.
"Glad you could join me tonight," says Theodore, holding his golden cup. His finger shimmering with the reflection of the rings that sparkle on his fingers. "I had a choice?" Vivian said dimly. She reached out reluctantly, listening to his cup clang against the table while she picked up her own. The only thing after the clank was the flickering of the dancing flame in the oversized fireplace just behind Theodore.
"I suppose my trusted Knight has gotten you here without any— disturbance?" Theodore asked. He sounded concerned yet amused in such a way that Vivian couldn't decipher his actual mood. Vivian raised her eyebrows before dropping them just as quickly. Her silverware dug into the tender meat and drizzled with a delicate sauce. Sprinkles of luxury lettuce scattered across the platter as the juices from the stake spew from inside.
"Kept me entertained," Vivian answered. She chewed on the medium-well stake. Theodore watched from the head of the table. He had one of his legs delicately crossed over the other, and his elbow pointed into the armrest. His demonic gaze slowly formed into a heroic one. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as if he had an idea.
"Vivian!" Theodore clapped his hands together in a burst of excitement. It startled Vivian for a moment. Her attention being sprung up to him as she watched him sit forward. "I have a proposition for you," he says. "I want you to become a Dracomancer."
Vivian's heart skipped a beat. She was— already a Dracomancer. Well— in the literal sense. A Dracomancer is a god-like being. One able to withhold incredible strengths and speeds. Their durability was nearly limitless. Dracomancers played in a unique sport. A gladiator type of sport. The memories Vivian wanted to forget came flooding back.
"Your Highness—"
"Vivian! I've seen what you can do! The speed! The durability! The strength! Oh, dear lord, the strength!" Theodore smiled with sheer excitement. She couldn't find herself to finish chewing her food. She swallowed deeply, feeling a sense of dread deep within her. "The Mancers would love to have you on their team. Great leadership! Awesome personality! Besides, haven't you wanted to be an official Dracomancer?" Theodore asked. Vivian kept quiet for a moment.
She began pondering. Her thoughts ran wild in the deepest parts of her mind. The flickering flame still danced, creating a perfect backdrop for them. She could feel the cold gaze on her. Even the Knights that lined the walls seemed to await her response patiently. "Sure."
"Great!" Theodore clapped his hands, stripping himself from his seat and rushing to Vivian. His face was excited as he put both his hands on her shoulders. "I promise you; you will not regret this decision. How about you stay in the castle tonight? We will speak more of your decision in the morning, yeah?" asked Theodore, even happier. Vivian wasn't hungry anymore. She watched the food shimmer before her. Her fork was cold and stiff between her fingers. "The Dragon Slayer Games will no longer be lost with the Mystic Meadows Kingdom!" Theodore bellowed. He nearly danced out of the Grand Hall, leaving Vivian to eat in silence.
The Dragon Slayer Games. Vivian scoffed at the thought of it. Two individuals from corresponding kingdoms were placed on a small island in a treacherous ocean. The mountains were usually fog-filled, with ruins of broken castles and mountains covered in greenery. If playing a game to kill yourself had a name, The Dragon Slayer Games would be it.
Every time Vivian thought about The Dragon Slayer Games, bloodshed always came to the surface. Those four individuals are fighting for their lives. Not only fighting each other but the dragons that flew over them, casting shadows like a thundercloud. Those dragons' roars, fire breathing, and sharpened claws put fear into Dracomancers. Even though Dracomancers could handle such beasts, unlike the average being, they weren't immune. Vivian's met three Dracomancers who've lost their lives to dragons despite the god-like strength Dracomancers have. Sometimes, Vivian wished she was born normal.
The hallway leading to the room was dimly lit, with soft, warm light emanating from the elegant sconces along the walls. The walls were adorned with intricate wallpaper depicting pastel-colored floral patterns. Vivian's footsteps echoed against the slick, stone floors as she walked down the hall.
The hallway stretched ahead, lined with tall, ornate doors on either side. Each door was crafted from rich, polished wood, embellished with intricate carvings that told stories of the past. The air carried a faint scent of lavender, creating a soothing atmosphere as she approached the room. Upon entering the room, Vivian was greeted by a sight of sheer opulence. The room was bathed in soft, natural light streaming through large, floor-to-ceiling windows.
The windows overlooked a picturesque garden, with vibrant flowers blooming in a riot of colors. The room was spacious, with high ceilings adorned with delicate chandeliers that cast a warm glow.
A massive fireplace stood against one wall, crackling with a roaring fire that provided warmth and a cozy ambiance. The room had sturdy wooden tables and chairs crafted by skilled artisans. The room exuded an atmosphere of medieval grandeur, evoking a sense of history and noble heritage. It was a space fit for Knights and nobles, where tales of valor and honor were woven into the very fabric of the room.
As Vivian stirred awake in the medieval room on a right-were day, the first rays of sunlight filtered through the elongated windows, casting a warm golden glow upon the stone walls. She stretched her limbs beneath the covers of the canopy bed, feeling the luxurious velvet against her skin. The air was crisp and invigorating, carrying a hint of the winter chill. Rising from her slumber, Vivian donned her gear and stepped into the cold, polished stone floor. She made her way to the Grand Hall, where the aroma of freshly baked bread and roasts of meats filled the air. The hall was abuzz with activity, filled with soldiers and fellow Dracomancers, their armor glinting in the morning light.
Long tables spread about in the Grand Hall, accompanied by Knights and soldiers who either sat down properly or sat directly on the table, horsing around with one another. Their thick accents echo through the Grand Hall astonishingly as a few pieces of bread are thrown here and there.
As Vivian entered the Grand Hall, she couldn't help but notice the curious gazes directed her way. Whispers of awe and admiration fluttered through the air, mingling with the clatter of armor and the hum of conversation. Her presence as the former regent and now Head Dracomancer commanded attention and respect.
Groups of soldiers and Knights turned their heads, their eyes widening in astonishment as they caught sight of Vivian. Some paused mid-conversation, their voices trailing off as they took in her regal demeanor and powerful aura. It was as if a hush fell upon the all, the atmosphere crackling with anticipation. A former regent, now Head Dracomancer, was a figure of great importance and influence—someone who held the kingdom's destiny in their hands. Vivian's every movement seemed to carry a weight of authority, a testament to her years of leadership and dedication to the lands.
Despite the whispers and lingering stares, Vivian remained composed, confident, and serene. She acknowledged the admiration and curiosity with a nod and a warm smile.
"AND HERE YOU ARE! SITTING HERE LIKE SHE ISN'T IN TROUBLE!" A man bellowed. The attention was torn from Vivian to a small, round wooden table near the crackling fireplace.
As the Grand Hall of Knights and soldiers fell into a hushed silence, all eyes turned towards Bendarr, the towering figure seated at the round table. The moment's weight hung heavy in their air as the fate of the fellow Dracomancer rested on his decision. With his lean frame, king orange hair, and dark, intense eyelashes, Fermi stood beside Bedarr. His serious demeanor reflected the gravity of the situation. His eyes filled with determination. At 6'1, he commanded a presence that demanded respect.
On the other side of Bendarr stood the stunning twins, Markus and Ari. Standing at 5'9, Markus possessed an ethereal beauty that captivated all who beheld him. His wavy dark hair cascaded down his shoulders, framing his pale brown skin. At a petit 5'0, Ari exuded a quiet strength that belied her stature. Her dark wavy hair mirrored Markus', and her radiant complexion added to her allure.
As Bendarr's voice resonated through the hall, his words carried a weight that revealed his hesitance to embark on the perilous quest.
"Bendarr, we cannot turn our backs on our fellow Dracomancer. She needs us, and we have the power and skill to save her." Fermi's voice cut through the silence. His tone was severe yet filled with conviction as he addressed Bendarr. Bendarr's gaze met Fermi's; his expression clouded with doubt. "I understand the gravity of the situation, Fermi, but you know the risk involved. We've lost too many comrades already. I can't bear to see another one fall."
Fermi's eyes narrowed, determination burning in his gaze. "Yes, the risk is great, Bendarr. But isn't it our duty to protect and support one another? We are a family bound by our shared abilities and purpose. If we abandoned our own, what message does that send?"
Bendarr's voice softened, his eyes reflecting the weight of his past battles. "I've seen the horrors that await is, Fermi. The dragons we face are relentless and merciless. It's not just about me but also the safety of our entire order," Bendarr says. Vivian slowly stepped through the bustling crowd that surrounded the round table. All the soldiers and Knights stressed about the news of their compromised Dracomancer.
Markus took a step closer. His voice was calm and collected as he placed his boot on the leg of the barstool. "I understand your concerns, Bendarr. But we cannot let fear dictate our actions. We must stand together, shoulder to shoulder, and face these challenges head-on. Our unity and bravery are what makes us Dracomancers," he says.
"No. Our power is what makes us Dracomancers," Bendarr growled. Ari met Vivian's gaze momentarily. "Bendarr— please." Fermi pleaded softly.
Bedarr's gaze shifted, torn between his reservation and the unwavering determination of his companions. "I— I need time to consider, Fermi. This decision weighs heavily on me. Give me a moment to gather my thoughts."
Fermi, Markus, and Ari nodded. Knights and soldiers waddle back to their seats, distracted and occupied by their own conversation about the situation. Fermi's nod was filled with empathy. "Of course, Bendarr. Take all the time you need. Remember, we are here to support you, no matter your decision."
Fermi turned, stopping abruptly as his gaze met Vivian's. She seemed more focused on the conversation that had just gone on rather than introducing herself.
"Head Dracomancer?" Fermi questioned instantly. His tone was filled with authority. "Vivian Sylvara." They both grip one another's forearm tightly. Markus and Ari seemed intrigued by Vivian's presence, both making their way to stand beside Fermi. "Fermicious Stone. This is Markus and Ari Maclair. We're Dracomancers as well," Fermi introduced.
"Good seeing you," says Ari.
"Same," says Markus.
Vivian nodded toward them. Her eyes slowly averted to Bendarr, who chewed his bread to himself. She hazed upon the scratches and cars stained on his dark skin and slightly hidden beneath his dreads.
"If we knew we were getting a head Dracomancer so early, we would've come to you about saving Jaycee," says Ari proudly. Markus' face lit up with glee, and Fermi kept a more sustained expression. His arms were crossed with his orange beard shimmering in rays of sunlight breaking through the slim windows.
"What's her situation?" asked Vivian, helping herself to a seat across from a group of rowdy Knights and soldiers. "Saved Marks from a dragon, ended up getting herself into trouble. Once Bendarr saved us all, he deemed it too dangerous to go back in and save Jaycee," says Ari. Fermi and Markus sit on top of the table, where Fermi helps himself to a slice of bread. Markus fiddled with his pocket knife as Ari sat beside Vivian. Each one watched her, amazed to be working with the former regent of the Mystic Meadows Kingdom.
"I'll talk to Bendarr about it. Until then, you three get your gear ready. If he doesn't join us, that's on him. But we're going to save this— Jaycee," says Vivian, unsure if she was saying the name correctly.
Twenty minutes in, with Vivian enjoying a joyful conversation with her comrades, a maid came nervously summoning her. The maid had her hand behind her back, her legs together, and was humble when she spoke to Vivian. "Mancer Sylvara. Lord Oliver summons you to his throne room," she says nervously. Fermi, Markus, and Ari all exchange looks before putting their focus back on Vivian. "Need some company?" asked Fermi dimly.
Vivian tore herself from the bench. "I think I'll be okay. It was good meeting you three. I'll stay in touch about Jaycee," she says.
Prince Theodore stood stall and regal in the opulent medieval throne room, adorned with intricate tapestries and gilded accents. The room was bathed in a soft, warm glow emanating from the grand chandeliers, casting a romantic ambiance. He gazed out of the expensive windows framed by heavy velvet curtains, his eyes fixed on the snowy landscape. Theodore's gaze finally shifted from the wintry scene outside to Vivian.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "My dearest Vivian," he began, his voice filled with warmth. "I hope the morning has treated you well. Tell me, did the sun's rays greet you with their gentle touch?"
"Couldn't have been better," she says. Theodore's laughter echoed through the throne room, filling the space with joy. "I promised a lovely conversation about your decision last night," says Theodore gleefully. "As I'm sure you have, you're seen as Head Dracomancer. Have you met the others?"
"Indeed. An interesting lot."
"And they are, indeed."
He went back to gazing out of the window. The castle towers vanish into the clouds above. The stone and brick walls were covered in a soft blanket of snow. Residents of the castle are careful to cross the ridges that connect different sections of the castle so that they do not slip. "Fermi is a very— tough Dracomancer. Couldn't count on both hands how many times he's saved my life. And Ari— the old fool she is." He paused momentarily, watching a little girl take off in the courtyard of the castle grounds.
"Love her with everything I got. But she must hold back much strength if she wishes not to make a fool of everyone else," says Theodore.
Prince Theodore's wife, a stunning 25-year-old with porcelain pale skin, possessed an ethereal beauty that captivated all who looked at her. Her lustrous blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing her delicate features and accentuating with intelligence and warmth, reflecting the love she held for her husband. In the magnificent throne room, she adorned herself in a regal attire befitting her status.
Draped in luxurious fabrics and adorned with intricate embellishments, her ensemble exuded elegance and grace. As she sat on the loveseat, her regal presence was undeniable, adding to the majesty of the surroundings. Her every movement exuded poise and sophistication, a true embodiment of royalty. Her name was Princess Agnes. Soon to be queen when Prince Theodore decided to take his place as king officially. He felt he wasn't ready yet, having a regent take charge of things around the castle or handle business on different plots of land.
"Why would she hold back?" asked Vivian curiously. "Although she's barely shown her strength, the little she has surpassed that of Bendarr. But I have no doubts Bendarr could beat any of them. He is my best Dracomancer, just behind you. Has been training heavily for the games that are approaching. With the games approaching in spring, he's been training day and night, prepared to lose his life in The Dragon Slayer Games. I advise you to start training as soon as possible. You'll be paired up with Fermi. And Vivian—"
He turned to her with a more serious tone. "I daresay— Fermi is one helluva man in the arena. Keep up with him, and don't let him out of your sight. You two are a team. If one loses, there's a high chance the other will. The Elves are no force to reckon with."
Vivian swallowed, clenching her fist and pondering about the games. She'd be put into the arena in three months, fighting with Fermi to keep her life.