Dragon's Blood

Chapter 1:The council's decision

"There are strange events occurring in the Kingdom to the north"

"This should concern us why? And why did you not call the entire council?"

"Peace, I'm afraid he's correct, the wind has uttered that their newborn princess carries strange powers. I think we should send someone to investigate, and we need to be discreet about it."

"I feel the power as well, you may not agree with me, but something must be done."

"If you are so insistent, go ahead and waste your energy, but I have more pressing matters to deal with than this, next time, if you expect me to take action, make sure you have the entire council."

"Do you have a plan at all?"

"As a matter of fact, I think that we should stay here while our half-blood heirs are the ones investigating."

"I see, make it a sort of test or challenge."

"Yes, that is about right."

"You expect them to work together?"

"Loosely, but yes, their opinions are quite different, but if they can cooperate, then no mortal could stand in their path."

"My sources say that the king is a simple man, and if we give him such a power, he will likely misuse it."

"Then who would lead them?"

"The girl, once she is old enough, otherwise, they help the kingdom as they see fit."

"But she won't be able to wield her own power, much less theirs."

"That is the point, where if necessary, our champions can differ in their work."

"I see... that's actually a good plan; despite the fact that I still feel that there is still a hole in the middle of it."

"Then we are all in agreement, our best warriors will be sent, just to make sure that no mistakes are made."

James Drakir, a young eighteen-year-old boy with short, white hair and brilliant, blue eyes sat on the bench enjoying what he could of the horribly made meal made by the innkeeper.

It's the same in every town I'm sent to, lousy food, hardly worth the coin. I wish Arthur would let me travel to a town with an actual... suddenly a screech tore through his thoughts and a snowy owl landed on his shoulder, dropping the scroll that it held in its talon. Good, at least Master Tundrion doesn't let me suffer like this, came the thought. He grabbed the scroll gingerly and opened it, fully expecting an icy blast to knock him off his feet; none came, so James started reading.

Icefang,

He flinched at the first word, being a half-dragon granted him power and help when needed, but James had not yet grown accustomed to his dragon name, which was also a source of power when embraced.

There is a kingdom to the north, whose king has been given a daughter. The Council has decreed that you are to pledge your services to her. As a Knight of the round table, it will temporarily create a treaty between the kingdom and Camelot, until a decent emissary can arrive.

James smiled, with such an excuse, there would be little to no chance of rejection of this order from King Arthur, who frequently opposed his orders from Tundrion.

You are to leave as soon as possible, good luck

-Tundrion

The last line was not really needed, he thought, as if I'd want to spend one more moment in this infernal place. He paid for the meal, and then wrote a letter to the king, sent it on the owl that he fully knew would get there faster than any other bird than perhaps a phoenix.

Not far to the east, the half-dragon Arkairial, his black hair reaching past his shoulders, and his green eyes almost emitting an unnatural light, sat on a stump in the middle of a great forest. He had awoken in Tiamat's cave, with no memory of who he was, when he asked about it, he was told he was slain in combat and that she'd seen fit to resurrect him into her half-human son.

"Who as I before this? Why was I chosen?" he asked out loud, and like his mother, he was able to hear the wind spirits, who offered no help to answer his questions. Listening, he was able to discern three words, Time will tell.

Just then, a great wind arose and the sound of wing beats overhead caused Arkairial to look up, seeing a large wind drake descending into the clearing. As it neared the ground, the wind was so great; it would have blown him over if not for his emerald colored wings balancing him against it. He recognized the young man who lept off the drake nimbly, as Private Johnson, a new recruit to The Vanguard, the equivalent of a special forces for the Wind Half Dragon Army.

"Johnson, this better be good." Arkairial grumbled.

"I apologize for interrupting your meditation sir, but I have a message for you."

Arkairial, the wind has whispered of a child's birth toward the north, dragons have little ,or no, knowledge of this place. And I fear that the girl could hold great power. The council has decreed that you are to go there; find Darkborne. He holds the map to the new land; follow him. You are both requested to offer your strength and bravery to the girl. Travel safely, my son. ~Tiamat~

Arkairial nodded, dismissing Johnson, and turned to leave. He walked a few meters, where his wind drake was tied to a tree, and untied the reins as he leapt onto his drake and took to the air.

After a long while, Arkairial spotted an elf, running northwards. What is an elf doing out here? He thought, leaping from his drake and into the air.

Meanwhile, on the ground, Darkelm, prince of the high wood elves of Sahomni, read over the scroll his Phoenix had delivered him moments before.

Darkborne,

The council has decreed that you are to go to the northern kingdom that we have disclosed the path to it within this scroll. There, you will meet with the royal family and pledge yourself to their eldest daughter, whom holds great power. You are to teach her how to use these abilities if you are able.

Wish you luck,

-Lord Plagueis

A loud crash tore his attention from the map as he looked over it.

"What, may I ask, is an elf doing out in the open like this?" a boy walked out of the dust cloud caused by his impact, dusting himself off. The dragon wings behind him surprised Darkelm for a moment, as he had not seen such a brilliant shade of green before.

"You might, but my business is my own." Darkelm replied, as a gust of wind blew the letter from his hand and into the other boy's.

"Darkborne, as in THE DARKBORNE, heir to the Plague tribe?" Arkairial asked, handing the scroll back with a sly smile.

"Not very polite, to intrude on other people's business you know."

"I only do such things when others act suspiciously."

"It stands to reason that if you were also assigned to investigate, that the other heirs were also deployed." Darkelm said after listening to Arkairial's explanation.

"Well then, let's not keep them waiting."