The Mage Wars

Dragons

31 Lepus of the year 13004

"What do you mean we're leaving in a week?"

"Neirin, it takes a week and a half to get to Vespera," Neirin frowns. He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. Spirits, how do I explain this nicely? "Unless you happen to know my Father's teleportation spell, it will take three weeks to get back to the Caelora,"

It will take three weeks, regardless of whether Neirin is with us. We have a group of eight now. The more people there are, the longer it will take. Four can go unnoticed, but eight that is noticeable. It's why four of us went to Gaerwn.

Neirin throws a hurt look at me. I know he has trouble using magic. It's just not his thing. He's been quite distraught since he figured it out. I would be, too. If I found out I couldn't do the things I'd been promised I could do, I'd be furious.

Neirin glares. "That was a low blow,"

"You're like Uncle Aveyard,"

"Oh great! A contestant threat of being enveloped by my little magical energy. How comforting!" Neirin's eyes flash from blue to green and back to blue.

Whoops.

In all our 17 years on Kaladrielion, Neirin's never been the one to explode in anger. That or I wasn't around to see it.

"Father still hasn't come to terms with it. Spirits! I haven't come to terms with it! What kind of King will I be if I can't protect Evanath!" He slams his hands on the table. This must irk him.

Neirin's smart. He'll find another way. He always has. Magic doesn't mean a thing when it comes to protecting a kingdom. It's the mind that makes a difference. You could have an unbelievable amount of magical power but no smarts to back it up. It means nothing. There has to be a balance.

"The faster you accept it, the faster you can find other ways of protecting Evanath,"

Neirin growls. He looks back at the castle. It looms behind him. No, he's staring at the mountain. Is he thinking of going up there? He'll be eaten. Guinevere's threat was no joke—unless he's already been and won her favour.

"Why do I have to leave?"

Neirin, at least get to know Guinevere first. "Your Father will be expecting you,"

He looks as if he wants to say something about Uncle Carys, but in the end, he doesn't.

"Guinevere's using us,"

"I am aware," I lean back in my chair.

The moment the black dragon showed up, I figured it out. It wasn't hard. My Father does that when he feels I can't handle certain people. It isn't very pleasant, but it's what fathers do.

Neirin looks at me like I'm crazy. Why is it surprising that I figured it out? Hell, he figured it out. I should be offended that he thinks I didn't.

"How?"

"I saw how the black dragon loomed over us. It wasn't threatening enough to be for protection. He has a personal connection to Guinevere," I ponder what it could be. Perhaps a fatherly relationship. I'm not too sure. "He could be acting as her Father."
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