The Conquest of Mytheyr

Morgan got out of the bed, swaying a bit on her feet. She steadied herself on the bed frame, and then walked after Raven in her bare feet. She was surprisingly strong after nearly bleeding to death, but she attributed that fact to Raven’s alchemy and healing skills. Timbltin followed close behind Morgan, determined not to let her out of his sight. Morgan ducked under Raven’s arm, and caught the first glimpse of Rimcenter that she had in centuries.

Rimcenter was the ruin of a fortress that had once protected both the palace and the three large cities nearby. The ancient stonework was now covered with tents, and the abandoned walkways were once again crowded with people, going to and fro with various weapons and supplies. Every elf there walked with a purpose and everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing.

“I’m really quite proud of myself.” Raven grinned, “I got all this together in a few weeks, we’re mostly organized, and we’ll be ready to move in a few days, if need be. But if you don’t have a plan, we need to figure one out and fast. And besides,” Raven turned to Morgan with a raised eyebrow, “we all know the Earth tells less than it knows, and what it does tell you is important. We need to figure out where your boy fits in.”

“Well I assume you noticed.”

“Fuck yeah I noticed.” Raven laughed, “He’s got more Darkness oozing off him than you do in one of your ‘states’. Ain’t nothing like what Arven’s got.”

“I think that’s because Arven hates and refuses to perform Dark magic, which is the only thing a Canteior can use.” Morgan responded, “Whilst Vath is, I shit you not, a Dark Elf.”

“Very funny. And beside the point. Apparently we can’t do this without him, and no one’s left to tell me why. Everyone’s gone. Except the Wind, of course.”

Morgan sunk into thought as she and Raven wandered the camp. Every now and then, she’d ask questions that Raven would answer without a second thought. How many of our own boys are here? Ten. Ten dragons then? Twelve, counting Timbltin. How many locals? Five hundred, but we’ve done more with less, and more come every day. Did a company arrive not long ago, led by Elves named Teren and Asa? Yes, right before Vath arrived with you. Can I see them? Right this way.

Raven led Morgan to where the company was, and Morgan was flooded with relief to see the two men and all the familiar faces that accompanied them. But someone else caught Morgan’s eye, and she took a step back.

“Uh-oh…” she said under her breath. Timbltin took to his wings and hid in the nearest tree to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

Interrogating Teren was a sky blue dragon the size of a large horse. She had a purple fin running down her back, piercing topaz eyes, and huge wings folded tightly against her sides. Her voice demanded respect and obedience as she questioned the poor Dark Elf. Teren tried to answer her questions as best he could, but her intense gaze unnerved him. Another dragon stood nearby, silently. This dragon was coal black, with darker colored scars. He had two impressive horns, although one had a chunk missing from it. His eyes were a light blue, with the same intense quality as the female dragon’s. He stood by her, listening attentively to Teren, looking very masculine and intimidating as he did so. His nostrils twitched as he caught a scent he knew well, and he turned his head. His pupils constricted when he saw Morgan, and he nudged the blue dragon gently.

“Wha-” the female dragon started to say, before she caught the scent too, and turned her head. Morgan took a half step back, and the dragon charged at her, hitting Morgan in the chest with her head and knocking the elf to the ground.

“Do you have any idea how worried we were about you?” the blue dragon scolded, standing over her.

“Marine, I couldn’t risk the letter being intercepted, I wrote what I could and what I needed to…”

“I don’t want to hear your logic.” Marine harrumphed. “I’m still mad.”

“Bane?” Morgan said, appealing to the male dragon.

“Don’t look at him for help! He’s just as mad as I am.”

“No I’m not.” Bane protested, “I understand exactly why that letter was so brief, and she didn’t mean to worry us. It’s you who interrogated the crow and that elf, getting all like the Spanish Inquisition up in here.”

“Bane!” Marine turned on her companion, “You’re not helping.”

“I’m being honest.”

“Take your honesty and shove up your tail.”

“Guys!” Raven interrupted. “As fun as this is to watch, I think someone over there really wants to talk to Morgan.” Morgan peered around Marine’s leg, and saw Asa watching them intently, as if waiting for the right moment to make a move.

“You know Raven, sometime your skill is unnerving.” Bane said, shaking his head. “Just looking at someone and knowing their intentions. Uncanny.”

“That’s why I’m the Nightmare.” Raven grinned. “Speaking of which, we’ll be showing Semele why I’m called that if he tries to get in your dreams tonight. Let me know before you go to sleep.”

“Alright, I will.” Morgan promised, scooting out from under Marine and dusting the dirt off her white clothes of she got up. She walked towards Asa, and Marine lay down, determined to keep an eye on her. Bane settled in beside her, Timbltin flew off of his tree, the fading light glinting off his scales as he landed gracefully on Morgan’s shoulder.