The Dragons Descendant

The First Flame (1)~Picture of Kella

The first flame of a roaring fire is always the one you doubt most, will it prosper? Or will it fail? Most times when you come upon something such as this, it's not your first thought. Your first thought might be; should I let it prosper, or crush before it crushes me. In the beginning of a war that you don't know of, it is the most crucial question. Anyone or anything could be your downfall as king or queen of your realm, yet sometimes, you have to take that chance. King Stephan of Akindawn took that chance, and it nearly cost his life. A band of sailors had arrived at their island across the largest sea know to this world. His thoughts about them? Surely one who wanted to cause him harm wouldn't go all that way. . . He never knew how wrong he was. Those twenty sailors were the beginning of a crushing army, made up of thousands and thousands of men, more than King Stephan could match.

Those faithful to him did their best to rally against these strange Imperial men, but it was a hopeless attempt. While the island was larger than any other in the world, the majority of it was filled with either forest, mountain ranges, or unexplored wasteland. There were never enough men to fend them off. So they hid, waiting for a perfect moment to strike while General Percy of the Imperial Legion got comfortable in his new seat of power. Laws were written and slave encampments built. Any who defied him got sent there where they would mine for expensive ores, or work as a blacksmith forging new armor for his army.

Eight years before the siege, in one of the barely explored forests of Akindawn a child was born. Her mother died giving birth and her father killed defending the SkyStorms. She was left alone with her godfather, a general, waiting to rally his soldiers. It was here, that a legend was born.

~12 Years Later~

General Percy stood before me, the visor on his gold helmet down, his cape flowing behind him in the wind. All of his golden armor shined in the setting sun, his giant great sword on his back. He liked to call it KingSlayer. Even though it hasn't once killed a king. A synical laugh echoed in the suit of armor. It was just us, alone on the beach, the water lapping at the sand. The sound of flapping wings above me made me glance up, hovering over me was a hawk, it's feathers white and it's eyes blue. Curiously I continued staring at it and became perplexed by those eyes. I never heard the sword drawn. And I never felt the cold steel pierce my skin, I only felt my body collapse on the sand, the sword still lodged in my chest. My eyes looked up to see-

"Get up! What are you still doing in bed?" In jerky movements I shot out of bed and scrambled to get my boots on and sword on my belt. My best friend waited for me and together we sprinted outside the small cottage, both of us were panting as the sun began to rise in the sky.

"What is it those time, have you any idea?" Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shake his head. Damn. That meant we could be doing anything today, I only hoped we weren't running the perimeter again. Last time we did that I was up for three days and nearly passed out of heat exhaustion twice. My heart pumping in my chest I pushed myself harder as we ran down the familiar path, we were heading towards training grounds today, had we been running the perimeter we'd have turned left a while ago. Good.

Ahead of us we heard the sound of wood smacking wood and when we finally burst through the clearing I saw what it was. The two youngest sons of my godfather, Kyle and Miles, were fighting using the wooden swords they had gotten but two days ago. Sitka, the third oldest of the four siblings, was observing their fight. His head snapped up upon our entrance and a smile spread across his features. However, when he looked at Jon, the second oldest, he stepped up and ruffled his shaggy hair.

"Glad you two could make it." He stepped forward to do the same to me but I quickly stepped back, a mischievous glint shown in his eyes. Before he could make I move I grabbed the outside of his outstretched arm and held it firmly, I then kicked the back of his knees. When he was on the ground I slapped the back of his head. A soft clapping echoed and I looked up to see my godfather, father of the four sons before me, watching with a bright smile on his face.