Who knew one terrible mistake could trigger a war so quickly. It hadn't even been a few months, and news of the Kinsmen of the Dark gaining grounds constantly reached their ears. Every able body was requested by the Council of Thirds to join the fro...
The young mages trudged their way back to Carvolier Castle, some aiding the wounded while others watched the mindless dragon warily. It was a miracle none were critically injured, mage and denizen alike. They could only hope the rest fared just as well.
Leading the charge was the mystery of the hour, Nagan himself with Milora at his side to keep him from stumbling too severely. Carthadeus had never felt the after-effects of a broken spell, but he had seen how Dwarns would sway after a broken barrier as their circuits hastily tried to realign themselves. Perhaps Nagan hadn't taken his advice after all.
Carthadeus rolled his eyes. Of course, he wouldn't. Nagan has all the common sense in the world yet uses none of it on his well being. A nuisance of a hero complex. He could practically feel Icarion's scrutinizing glare, even if it wasn't directed at him, as he evaluated Nagan's condition from the distance between them. Carthadeus was sure Icarion would've marched up and (roughly) taken care of his friend himself if he wasn't currently preoccupied with someone with nasty-looking burns.
Much to his amusement, a quick glance around revealed that Icarion wasn't the only one glaring at the duo ahead of them. To be more specific, Nagan wasn't the only one getting glares.
Not many were willing to stay close to the dragon, no matter how much the Time Mage reassured them the dragon wouldn't attack. If anything, that made everyone even more nervous. How was he controlling the dragon? Regardless, the messenger girl was the only one willing to approach Nagan and the dragon, offering to help him keep his balance. Carthadeus nearly snorted at Nagan's poor attempt at telling her he was fine. Instead, it seemed to steel her resolve as she took his arm and proceeded to recite every reason why he wasn't fine. He had never heard Nagan's jaw snap shut as quickly as it did at that moment.
Now it seemed others wished they were as brave as Milora, then maybe they could've been the ones so close to the Time Mage. Said Time Mage and messenger seemed oblivious to the looks — either that or they ignored them — as they appeared to be conversing quietly.
Where had Milora come from in the first place? Carthadeus didn't recall seeing her in Carvolier before. Sure, he had heard the family name Ollengard, a distant relative of the Warvens he believed, so perhaps she was asked to join their little army ranks and transferred from somewhere else. But why didn't she go to Carvolier? Most of the other Ollengards went here. He would have to ask her sometime.
By the time they passed through the gate, it was clear the fight had ended there as well. The rest of Carvolier had regrouped near the main entrance, dragons near the sides who belonged to the Dragonmage professors and older students. In the field, they saw the three other wild dragons. They were motionless, and Carthadeus didn't see their chests moving.
Those dragons were dead, and judging by the heaviness of the atmosphere, the weight of killing such magnificent creatures were affecting all, both those who were involved and those who watched. But if they were in the same condition as the dragon following Nagan, a soulless vessel, then death would have been merciful.
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