World's End Sorceress

Chapter 1: The Morning

The princess slept badly the night before her coronation. She had a dream, about the event. A monster had snuck into the celebration and killed her father and stolen her magic. A demonic force had laughed at her, "Your power is nothing compared to the Shadow," it had said. Her bed was warm and comfortable, yet she felt cold and alone.

She removed the sheets and sat on the side of her bed, her feet clicking on the stone floor. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she sighed. Muttering to herself, she summoned her familiar, a Hragin. The Hragin are a semi-mythical race of animals. They are four-legged, dog like animals with the wings of a dragon, and paws of a lion.

"Jarsiv, how are you this dreadful morning?" the princess asked her familiar smiling and ruffling his fur. Jarsiv made a whimpering sound, the sign he was happy. She got out of bed, said another incantation and sent Jarsiv away. There was a knock on her door.

"May Gretel enter milady's chambers to prepare her for the day?" her handmaid Gretel, the very quiet girl asked. She is a rather short girl, with long auburn hair, usually dressed in a long frilled skirt, with an apron filled with rags and cleaning supplies. Her hands were usually clean but today she was wiping them on her apron constantly, trying to remove the flour. She had been helping in the kitchens.

"Wash your hands in the basin Gretel, we don't want flour on my dress do we?" Dranna asked smiling politely at the girl. Gretel's face was flushed with embarrassment as she nodded and went to the basin. Dranna, the soon-to-be Queen walked to the window, where she had a view of the courtyard. Knights were training with Magi. Learning the different offensive Light Magics and how to counter them. Dranna smiled, as she was an abnormal Mage. She was a Dualcaster, able to cast Light and Dark magic, allowing her more possibilities in her casting. She opened the window, holding out her hand and muttering something as a ball of Dark magic appeared in her hand, turning into a Shadow Spear. She smiled, and threw it at a Knight with a Light Ward active. The spear pierced the Knight through the chest, by-passing the Ward and his body, only harming his armor.

"Magi, what good are light wards against Dark magic I ask you?" she shouted down to the courtyard. The Magi bowed, while the Knights saluted her. One Magi cast Dark Heal on the Knight who had been pierced, healing his armor and removing the spear. The training commenced with new emphasis on Dark Wards. Though Wards are considered a form of magic anyone with a Jewel of Power can learn them. The Jewels in the kingdom were all kept in the Knight's possessions.

She smiled, her work done, she stared over the city. The inner city was bustling with festivities, food carts, peasants, dogs and maybe other animals flowing through the streets. Every peasant allowed in today was randomly chosen, to witness her coronation.

"Is madam ready for her dress now?" Gretel asked, drying her hands on a towel from her apron. Dranna sighed, but pulled away from the window and let Gretel undress her. Removing her nightclothes, Gretel replaced them with Dranna's usual corset, under garments, and hairpins. Dranna herself is rather tall and thin, with long fiery hair. Her nose and cheeks were dotted with freckles, her other features smooth. Her eyes were unique, even for her House. Red with amber flecks, her eyes are the Dualcaster's mark. All Dualcasters have double colored eyes. Some, including Dranna herself, have a secondary personality. A defense mechanism designed to defend her body when she no longer can.

In terms of Dranna, if she becomes incapacitated her form, known only as Seraph, casts spells Dranna has no knowledge of. People who see her in this state swear she was casting Light Magics, but others claim it was Dark. All say she is scary to behold.

"Gretel, why does my father insist on purple? He knows I find it a dreadful color," Dranna said with distaste. Her dress was designed to be low cut, tight in the bosom to waist, then flowing like water from waist to ankle. The dark purple was inlaid with amber colored patterns around the wrists and waists, designed to look the part of both belt and bracelets. She was also to wear an amethyst necklace, with an amber in the middle, resting in her cleavage. The necklace is attached to a light purple chocker with the symbol of the Dualcasters. The Sword of Light, over the Shield of Darkness, with the Red Star of Helios on the shield.

"Mistress never complained before, I believe she is merely nervous to be Queen," her handmaid said with honesty. That was one of Gretel's more endearing qualities to Dranna. She admired the girl's honesty.

"Well I guess you are right, as always," sighing, Dranna walked to her dresser and sat in the chair to apply her makeup. As she reached for her kit Gretel snatched it up. Dranna looked at her in astonishment. Gretel merely shook her head and smiled. Dranna sighed again. Truth be told she was nervous, but not to be Queen. She was afraid of the dream.

Gretel brought her cheese and bread, her usual breakfast. She ate carefully, as to not soil the dress with breadcrumbs. When she had finished Gretel told her it was time to go and speak to her father. Dranna dreaded this moment. Her father was a man who believed the strength of a mans arm won him life. Not the women who wield magic as both tool and weapon. A man of honor and duty, King Rymund, a man who has made the kingdom prosper scientifically, but lack in magical defenses. For magic he relies on The Order of the White Rose, a group of magi specially trained in large scale defense.

Dranna walked to her father's study, at the top of the Tower of War. He was always pouring over maps and books, trying to learn where the Orcs and Goblins hide. Today was no different, however he was dressed in his full armor, the helmet resting beside his maps. When Dranna opened the door the King looked up, his eyes sparkling. "Dranna, welcome. You look very Queenly in that dress," he stated, smiling.

"Of course father, you made me wear it after all," walking to the table. Her father smiled wider. She walked around the table saying, "I would hug you but I wouldn't be able to hug properly in that armor," though she hugged him anyway.

The King never neglected his daughter. She always came before his work as King. No man has been a better father or King as Rymund. There were times during his campaigns when he was gone for months, but Dranna never worried. He would send a bird every other night detailing his current health, wounds, and the status of the assault. Thousands of Orcs have died as well as tens of thousands of Goblins.

"Dranna my dear, I believe it's time I told you the truth of your mother's death," the King said drawing a chair.