The Orb of Souls

Chapter 3

The Orb of Souls

©2009 Teresa J. Goodman

Chapter 3

As the years passed, the pain in Ember's heart subsided, but it never died. Every time she fought a formidable competitor she thought of Xander. And every time she saw couples passing on the street, embracing, or holding hands, she thought of Xander, and what could have been. She missed him still, but she knew he was right. She knew she had to focus on her training instead of her dreams, or she would never be as good s her father, and wouldn't be ready to spar with Xander when he finally returned like he promised. She trained daily, until her muscles burned like they were on fire, then she would push herself even further. She learned to thrive off her pain, both physical and emotional.

As her twenty-sixth year of life approached, she began to feel a burning deep inside her that she couldn't explain, a burning that seemed to consume every inch of her body. It was excruciating, yet exhilerating. She knew it was an indication of what was to come, but what? She couldn't really research the maturation of half-breed dragons in the academy's library. For that matter, she couldn't research anything on dragons in the library. Any knowledge that remained of dragons after the Great War had basicly been replaced by folklore. Ember started to yearn for knowledge about her heritage. She wanted to know what to expect, and what she would eventually be capable of.

She went to her father and asked him what he knew of dragons. He told he that he had never actually seen one, not knowingly anyhow, but he remembered tales his father had told him as a boy, about the days before the Great War. "My father once told me that a long time ago, elves and dragons lived side by side in peace. He said that dragons were great ferocious beasts that could fly, breathe fire, and had magic in their blood. They were once considered the greatest of the five great races. Even we elves revered them. He said they were strong and powerful, and very intelligent as well. He told me of the beginning of the world, and how the gods granted each of the great races particular gifts to determine which would become the greatest of the great. Their god was called Drakyn, The dreadmaster of fire and magic. He created the draconic race from his own divine blood, thus passing on his ability to beathe fire, and to naturally control and manipulate magic. It is said they were created in his image, for he was quite vain. Drakyn was manipulated by his most trusted High Priest, Draconius Dracusbane, or so he came to be known, for his actions became the bane of the entire draconic race, into creating a magical artifact that could not be destroyed as to become the source of all magic. Draconius claimed to have seen a vision of the probible future of the world where magic and the great races no longer existed, except the lesser race known as humans, and they were not only destroying themselves,but the entire world. Hearing this, Drakyn imparted a portion of his divine essense into the artifact to ensure its indestructability, but in doing so, he created an artifact so powerful that it itself became a sentient being that would give its possessor nearly omnipotent power in exchange for their soul. Draconius went mad with power, and tried to conquer the great races, to prove that the draconic race was indeed the greatest of the great. He came to see himself as a god. This caught the attention of The Great Mother. Drakyn was banished to The Abyss by The Great Mother for upsetting the balance of power neccessary to continue her great experiment. He, her own son, had violated her one crede amongst the gods. He was to be exiled, and his name forbidden to be worshiped, or even spoken. May the gods forgive me. And a holy war began that spread throughout the known world. Draconius was finally defeated by the strongest mages in all Elgyntavia, but they lost their lives in the process. After the Great War, fear and hatred spread like wildfire, and dragons were forever banished to the Savagelands. Those that stayed were slaughtered. Eventually their existance faded into legend, and everyone thought they were now extinct, until you were born. Your birth rekindled that fear that still remained in their hearts, and that is why you have been treated so maliciously by the elves of Elgyntavia. They are afraid of you, as well they should be, for you will become a very powerful adversary to any who oppose you, once you've fully matured."

Ember left with a renewed sense of pride. There were limitless possibilities as to how powerful she could become, and she liked the thought of that very much. All her life she had trained by the sword, and now she had learned she was capable of magic as well. She already knew that as a warrior, alone, she was a force to be reckoned with, bud adding magic to the equation would only intensify her power. She wanted to explore her draconic blood, to learn the arcane arts. She wanted to become everything she was potentially capable of. Then, and only then, could she redeem her families honor. What force could stand against a war-mage? Had there ever been such a thing? So she left the warcraft academy, and Elmwood Village behind her, and made her way to Sylvan Springs in search of the mage school, the only remaining mage school in all Elgyntavia after the war.