Trinamear (Incomplete 1st Rough Draft Novel Part 1 of 4 to be Published)

          “Two mortals and one heavenly soul will come fourth in the time of the darkest days and the bloodiest reigns. They will combine their powers and influences and combat the evils of the world and will one day conquer that evil and bring this world to peace,"

                             Quoted by: Sradith- the god of fire and fury

          The rain beat upon the earth as if it were angry, full of fury and malicious contempt. Droplets poured from the night sky unto the lone figure of Disandra, queen of Trinamear, who stood on the edge of the cliff overlooking the harbor of Glind, bordering the great Sea of Trinamear. She stood watching the departing war ships of Trinamear, going off into the horizon to fight the war against the nation of Mastral. The winds lashed at her strands of golden silky hair, throwing them into a tangled mess with no mercy for her lost heart. The tears fell freely from her half-goddess, honey-brown eyes, like golden stars falling from the heavens to earth. Her mind was wild with thoughts of death and despair; nothing was preventing the leap to the churning water below, nothing except her love for the man embarking on a perilous journey to defend his home, his fallen family, and her, Disandra. His ship had left dock about an hour before, though it was still insight of the mainland. Disandra sank to her knees yelling out to the sea for her love to return and hold her one last time before he took on his venture into the evil war that the Mastrals had continued to incite for years. For those who left to fight (or lead as Te’vore, her life's love, was) the war against Mastrals did not often return, and those who did, returned as ashes on the wind.

          She had begged and pleaded him to let the other two generals to lead the army against the Mastrals. He had said no and told her it was his duty to his father whom had fallen at the point of a Mastral sword. So, there she stood looking out at her love sailing away into a storm larger than he had ever imagined.

         

As Te’vor stood behind the ships drummer, looking back at his Trinamear, he thought he saw a lone figure standing on the top of a sea cliff overlooking the Trinamear Sea. Looking at the figure took Te’vore's thoughts to his future wife, Disandra NidTe’vore Merohanan. She was beautiful, with flowing golden hair, that was smooth as silk, her skin as light and soft as snow lying over the fields in the northern provinces of Trinamear, and her eyes as golden, and brillTe’voret as fresh honey from the southern mountains in Alistra, the kingdom on the other side of the world. She was like a warming fire to his heart, just with her smile she could make him stop what he was doing just to look at her, while her voice, like that of the angels themselves caused him to almost fall asleep instantly. Her mother had been the goddess, Lanstinia, of beauty, hope, and peace. At least while she had been alive on earth, gods and goddesses could take human form for ten years every one thousand years, Disandra's mother had taken her ten years to be with the one human man she had ever actually loved. The year Disandra had been born was Lanstinia's final year on earth.       

          Those were the thoughts that were going through Te’vore's head as his fleet of ships sailed toward a war he knew his country had been losing for the last two hundred years. Yet he still appeared as a soldier, with solid swordsmanship and flawless marksmanship, the son of the first ruler of the New Trinamear, O' Rien Mickinnelly, not a widely accepted ruler, but he was the one who actually looked-for progression, and that fact had made Te’vore the new king of Trinamear when he had witnessed his father’s death at the end of a Mastrals' sword. His entire life he had been trained for that day, he had picked Lord Vistra to rule in his place.

          Te’vore looked back at the figure on the cliff, the rain was coming down as fast as racing horse's hooves falling to the ground, but he could still see the silhouette against the nearly black sky. The ship bucked and rolled under his feet, he held his ground and stood waiting, not knowing exactly what he should be waiting for when suddenly he heard the singing of his angel.

“Gone away were they.

Fighting for their home and land.

Weeping on thy hill side, that is where she lay.

Gone away were they.

Their family's standing on their own.

Goodbye they cried to their lives in Trinamear.

Thy drums beat out that sorrowful sound.

Into the storm they charge.

With swords drawn and spirits flying through the night.

Come home, come home oh' thy maiden she calls,

Come along thy way home

Gone away were they to fight for their own

Gods be a flying with them

Thy maiden she calls

Come along home my soldier,"

         

The dragons of Trinamear roared into the sky, flames shooting hundreds of feet into the sky illuminating all Trinamear's local towns folk on the beaches. The furious rolling of the sea appeared to dull to a gentle swaying and the fast falling rain felt soft and encouraging.

          Fravien was the leader of the dragons on Trinamear; he was the largest in Trinamear. He had pearly white scales on his underside and black and silver streaked scales on his back. He was larger than the largest Trinamearean ship, which happened to be eighty feet long. He was a bold and cunning leader, always able to provide for his people and help others when there seemed to be no help available. He could not directly speak with the humans, but he could, somehow, send his feelings on a matter to any human he so chose. He could, however, speak openly with fellow dragons. He and his dragons would not leave Trinamear, for they were the sacred guardTe’vores, appointed by the gods. His people had wished to go to war along with the Trinamearan soldiers and fight to free the dragons enslaved by the Mastrals, but their souls belonged in Trinamear.

         

Not a single sound escaped any mouth, and time itself seemed to be captured by the beauty and clarity of the song. The storm still raged on, though not a soul could hear the foulness or rage of the beast for they all had heard the song of their hearts when Disandra had sung. Te’vore stood listening, with all his love for Disandra, he felt lost without her there at his side.

Te’vore closed his eyes and when he opened them he was back in the village of his birth. He looked up at his father swinging the sword with such passion and rage, blood was streaked across his face as he slaughtered a Mastral. He dropped the man with one sweep of his bloodied steel. As he looked about for more attackers, when he saw none he knelt beside his son and spoke.

          “Te’vore, listen to me lad," he grabbed Te’vore by the shoulders and forced him to look at his father. “Listen to me! I want you to take this knife and protect yourself with it, okay? I want you to take it and run, run like the gods were after you, do you understand me'?"

          Te’vore nodded, he did not even ask why his father was sending him away, instead of wondering he hugged his father and trusting him with all of his heart Te’vore turned to run when he heard the cry of death. He closed his eyes tight and turned around and opened them, finding himself on the ship, heading for war against those whom had killed his father and his home. The storm had not truly ebbed for Disandra's last call to him, the worlds cruelty threatened to break him, he grasped at the words he had just heard for hope of life and hope of home.

Te’vore turned and spoke in a thundering voice to all his charges. “To war, we fly as if on an angel’s wings," He looked onward into the storm, wishing that the dragons could also aid him in his coming battles, and braced him for the inevitable hell on earth.

Her heart pounded in her chest like the drums of the far-off war ships, she had just called upon the gods to aid in her final call to those warriors so brave, and the dragons had answered her call. Her body shaking from the cold and soaked in water from the rain she whispered one last word before turning away from her departing love.

          “Home,"

          She turned and walked back to the village, bringing with her the sorrow and despair, and leaving the warmth and happiness for when Te’vore returned to her.

The village was a large place with many huts and shelters dug into the hillside, the villagers were all inside trying to escape the rain. There were sentries placed at every possible entrance and warriors constantly trained, day and night, sunshine or rain, snow or grass, they were always trying to better themselves to fight the invaders. Many of the men who had called the village home were long dead, the people left were mostly women and children, though there were still men in the village, they were seriously outnumbered. There were no trees for miles and the area was full of hills, it was quite easy to spot any invaders long before they even got close, so Disandra was not surprised when she was halted by the sentries watching the east gate about a hundred yards away from the actual gate.

          “Hold ye' self! Where be' you come from girly?" asked a tall lanky man about twice Disandra's height.

          “Now Cameron, what be' ye' doing ask en Disandra that'?" inquired a second sentry as he caught up with the first.

          “No, it isn't Disandra John, look at the state the poor girlie is in. Disandra would never..." his voice trailed off as he realized his mistake.

          “Well what in the world are ye' doing out now, and in the middle of the storm to top me all?"

          Disandra didn't have the heart to speak and answer Cameron's question, she just stood in the downpour staring blankly at the friendly face.

          “All well, let's get you out of the rain. You look for the worst of wear," said John coming to the rescue.

          As they walked her into the village she heard them whisper about her probably seeing off the ships and how much they pitied her for her separation from her lifelong companion Te’vore. When she heard the name a new batch of tears began to stream down her cheeks and mixing with the water from the rain. Neither of the sentries noticed and continued without hesitation.

          As Disandra walked on she began to wonder about all the men the village had lost for the war, as she thought more and more about it she realized why the separation seemed so desperately forsaken, not a single man had returned alive for more than eight years. Eight long years the people of the village had answered the call to arms and not a single man had come home to his family or land. With the thought of never seeing Te’vore again she couldn't take anymore and collapsed, John only just caught her as she fell. They took her to Lady LTe’vorea O' Connell so she could help Disandra, and relieve the sentries of their weary charge.

          Disandra awoke to the pungent smell of potato soup and warm honeyed milk, she was cold and shivering uncontrollably, but she was dry, and knew she was safe. Her mind was strangely clear and focused; she sensed someone was close by. Disandra tried to sit up and stretch, an elderly woman, Disandra knew as LTe’vorea, gently pushed her back down unto the bed of straw.

“Slow down there girlie, you had quite a fit and you shan't be doing that. Here 'ave some soup too warm ye'," the old woman held the bowl to Disandra's lips and dripped it in. " Now ye' should just a lie here a wee bit longer and get some more rest,"

          Disandra lay down without protest, even though her head was clear her body felt incredibly heavy.

          “How long 'ave I been lying here?" Disandra asked weakly.

          “Only a night, but you took quite a fever yesterday. Only a cold, but what a cold, girly dear," LTe’vorea spoke with a strange cheerfulness. “Listen to me Disandra dear, and you listen good. Te’vore left to fight a war he believes in more than anything, he's ever believed in, in his life. He loves you more than 'is own soul and he's trying to show you that by fighting the men who have ravaged our lands, our families, and your village. Do you even remember your family at all girly? Well Te’vore does, and it's that memory he clings to for 'is sanity, it is his reasoning for all 'e does. I guess all I'm trying to say girl, is that he'll come 'home to you, he's going to make it for you,"

          Disandra laid there thinking of what she had just been told, what LTe’vorea had told her was the truth that Disandra had known all along, but she would never tempt fate with the belief that she knew what would become of her love. She closed her eyes and drifted into a fitful sleep full of nightmares in which demons spoke to her about Te’vore's fated death.

         

Mastrals were everywhere that Fravien looked; they were like a solid black mass of moving bodies. Their swords shimmered and shined as if studded with diamonds in the early morning sun; the storm had passed over Trinamear during the night. They marched unto the mainland with unified footfalls, sounding like the heartbeat of a monstrous beast. Fravien gave his orders.

          “Gallic, hit them with your fire from the right flank come in high and dive in fast. Salina, come in on their left flank and do the same as Gallic. Travois and I will come in their direct front, we have to hit them hard and fast, but we have to hit at the same time so we can push them back into the sea,"

          The other three agreed to the plan.

          “Let us go guardTe’vores and return saviors,"

          Fravien, Gallic, Salina, and Travios all took flight at the same moment, two headed in opposite directions and the other two waited for the right moment to attack the scum bag Mastrals.

          Fravien thought about his plan of attack and wondered whether it was worth it, whether he and his people shouldn't just go and start their own country without any war and violence, a place everyone could live in harmony with each other. Would the gods ever allow such a place to exist in their world?

          Travois brought Fravien out of his thoughts with an earth-shattering roar, the signal.

          Fravien beat his wings furiously trying to gain altitude; he rose into the air faster than any human eye could follow. He reached his maximum flying height and looked to Travois, giving a tiny nod they both dove towards the earth. The wind roared past their folded wings, the mass of Mastrals never stood a chance against four dragons, the screams from the burning men could be heard as the dragons regrouped and attacked a second time, burning and slicing the men.

          During their third attack the Mastrals pulled back into their ships and turned back to the sea in search of their home land.

          The guardTe’vores of Trinamear had prevailed, though they would never foresee the battle of the end, not until it was upon them.   

          Te’vore looked out over the vast expanse of ocean thinking of his love, Disandra. His men thought him to be a bit eccentric with his love for Disandra, but they did not know how true the love felt between the two was. The only people who would ever know of how their hearts ached every second they were not together, were all dead. He had been with her since they were born in their small village by the Trinamearan Sea and had escaped the invasion of the barbaric Mastrals.

          His fleet had been at sea for four days and now they were within sight of land. All the ships under his command had pulled in together half a mile out from shore. They could see the Mastrals army's fires through the early morning mist; it seemed to be a vast force consisting of at least two thousand men, more than double the number within the entire Irish fleet. Te’vore realized that a full-frontal attack would mean certain defeat and if his ships dispersed their men to far apart they would be just as easily be conquered. The supplies on the ships were running low and the element of surprise was slipping away faster than smoke trapped in the hands of a child.

          “BrTe’vore, come 'ere man." he spoke to his most trusted friend.

          “What do ye' say 'bout this situation?"

          BrTe’vore, who had been talking to the captain of the ship closest to theirs about the supplies, excused himself and made his way closer to Te’vore to reduce the chance of being over heard, sounds had a funny way of traveling across open water and he knew it.

          “Well we're running low on supplies and the men’re getting a bit anxious to make a move," he answered with complete honesty.

          BrTe’vore had been Te’vore's friend since the first day Te’vore had arrived at his village on the verge of death, still carrying Disandra. BrTe’vore was a large man with hair as black as the blackest of nights and eye's that were just as black, but they had a mystic shine about them. He was a man of great importance in the fight against the Mastrals. He had been one of the first generals and always respected what others had to say about anything. BrTe’vore's swordsmanship was as perfect as his personality, he had learned from Te’vore and Te’vore had learned from him. He had bulging muscles and looked slower than most people, but those who knew him would say he was as fast as a spirit and just as silent, they would also tell you that without his intelligent military strategies the Irish would be losing the war.

          “Yes, I know that, but what would you say we do about the attack? I will not 'ave my men slaughtered to save our pride," Te’vore responded in a forceful whisper.

          “Good, I thought you'd say that," he whispered back with a mischievous grin.

          “They 'ave, what looks like, their entire army out on that shore, and probably all their weapons too. So, I say we show 'hem how the Trinamear play. Send your five largest ships up the center for the head on attack, take your ten smallest ships and split 'em up into five groups of two and spread 'em out on either side a the first five, but make sure that they 're a good fifteen minutes behind 'hem. Then you take the rest of your fleet and spread 'em out good and wide, also fifteen minutes behind,"

          “Alright, you're going to lead the first wave, Michael will take the second wave, and I'll bring up the final assault. When you hit the beach, I want your men to scatter; it'll make a harder job for the archers to hit you. Now you tell Michael that he needs to do the same, but I do not want em to attack the same bastards you’re fighting, I want em to hit separate camps. Do you understand?" Te’vore ordered.

          “Aye,"

          “Good, now I'll be bringing my men in as a solid force to take out any you leave behind," Te’vore clasped BrTe’vore's arm and BrTe’vore did the same.

          “For Trinamear,"

          “For Disandra,"

          They released arms and BrTe’vore made his way to Michael to tell him of the plan and to ready the ship formations. Te’vore looked toward the shore, barely visible through the dense fog that had surrounded the ships, like the wings of an angel, or the blanket of hell. His mind began to wander back to his flight from the Mastrals invasion force, when he was carrying Disandra to safety, by the cover of the nightly fog.

          The night had enclosed Te’vore as he carried the girl he knew as Disandra, the only other survivor from his village as far as he knew. He had been running for hours and hours without even stopping once to catch his breath, his mind was focused on one thing, Disandra. His father’s dying wish was for him to make it to safety and live to see the sun rise once more. Now he had to stop, his body couldn't take the abuse any longer, he collapsed trying to hit the ground and let Disandra hit him to soften the fall. He was in the

Middle of the great forest and the fog had settled, covering everything in complete darkness. Te’vore knew they were beside water way because of the sound of rushing water. Before losing consciousness, he caught a glimpse of Disandra's beautiful brown eye's starring down at him.

          Te’vore awoke, night was still lying heavily on earth, and listened to his surroundings, he heard movement close by but it was only slight. He didn't open his eyes because he was still too exhausted from his immediate flight for his and Disandra's lives. His entire body ached so terribly that when he tried to sit up he only succeeded in almost blacking out. He called out to Disandra.

          “Disandra," he croaked.

          There was no noise, nothing.

          “Disandra,"

          He heard movement nearby in the fog this time and called again. Suddenly he felt her lay down and she pulled him close to her.

          “Te’vore, I didn't know if you would make it," she cried softly into his neck. “I thought I'd be on me own,"

          She sobbed into his neck as softly as a mid-summers breeze would blow against the grassy hills of Trinamear. He did not

Shed a tear, but he found enough strength to wrap his arms around her and hug her tightly.

          “Don’t ye' worry girlie dear, I will never leave you alone, never. You're all I got left now and I'm all ye' got left so don't you fret," Te’vore whispered into her ear.

          Disandra stayed against him until she fell asleep, Te’vore drifted off once he was sure that she was sleeping.

          The ships began their slow march towards the beach, awakening Te’vore from his past. The first "five" were still visible through the fallen cloud; the beach was no longer able to be seen. Te’vore's heart leapt into his throat as he realized how far from Disandra, and home, he really was.

          Te’vore looked about himself at the men that were on his ship, they were all men he had grown up with and trusted with all his heart. His ship was ordered to the rear line of the formation, it was the largest vessel in all the Trinamear Sea, with sleek black sides and a shining dragon heading the ship, its mouth open wide as if it would swallow its enemies without any thought. The order went up for the first wave of ships to attack, you could hear the gentle splash of the sea water on the side of the ships as they glided toward the desolate shore, and the jingle of metal on metal as the men in the first five ships shifted uneasily, in anticipation of the battle about to be upon them. Soon the ships were out of sight because of the dense morning fog, all ears waited for the cries of war to greet them and signal the second wave of the charge.

          Suddenly the entire world seemed to be a mass of flaming horror as the Mastrals launched flaming arrows unto the first wave of ships. The fog seemed to fade very quickly after that, the first five had reached the shore undetected, but when they began to charge the beach the Mastrals were ready and released their fully awesome might.

          “Go!" screamed Te’vore to the second wave. “Go now, charge!"

          The second wave began their approach faster than the first and more spread out, to give the appearance of a much larger force. Te’vore could do nothing to aid his dyeing men on the beach, nothing except stand on his ship and wait his turn to assault the demons of the god forsaken island.

          “Archers, at the ready. Don't light your arrows so the bastards won't be able to see 'em coming till it's too late. Take no mercy on their souls for they won't take any on yours," Te’vore ordered his ranks.

          The second forces had reached the beach and were now caught in the full onslaught of the battle; the sounds were intense even from the distance Te’vore's charges were at. Without order his wave set out for the shore. As they drew within bow range the archers began to fire in unison, but in different directions as to have a better chance of hitting more targets with fewer arrows. Te’vore's mind was racing with thoughts of the battle he was about to be thrown into. His strength and courage did not fain, but it grew furiously within him as the beach became larger and larger.

          Te’vore's ship landed first and there was no time to hesitate because the battle was literally brought unto the ship, the Mastral archers would not stop their relentless attack, but neither would the Trinamear. Te’vore swung his sword up from his hip as the first Mastral charged him, he thought that he had drawn the sword up to late but it made the contact with the Mastral knight's head and severed it from ear to ear. Before the man had fallen another was upon Te’vore, he had a smaller faster sword though he seemed as if he had only picked it up the day before. He dashed left and right, dodging every swing that Te’vore brought at him. He made small jabs here and there but never made any contact with the Irishman's armor. Finally, he made a fatal lunge and missed as Te’vore brought the sword home into his falling body. Te’vore turned looking for the nearest Mastral and charged him; he was caught off his guard and made a quick kill.

          “Push up the beach! Push for your lives!" Te’vore ordered to his men and he heard the shout go up into the night, the shout of a winning mass. He could see that the Trinamear force was gaining ground and gaining it fast, the battle looked to be on the verge of victory. The Mastrals were still in control of the hill over-looking the beach and their archers were keeping the Trinamear's pinned down unto the beach with their constant firing. Te’vore was looking towards the hill when he saw something he had never seen before, it towered above all else, and there was more than one, there were at least two or three.

          “What in the gods are those?!" BrTe’vore shouted from the top of a nearby sand hill.

          Te’vore ran to his position, and got a better look at these new weapons of war that the Mastral barbarTe’vores had developed.

          “I 'ave no idea. Whatever they are we shouldn't stand around waiting to find..." his voice trailed off as the first of the massive objects suddenly threw gTe’voret flaming balls into the air.

          The fire balls came in fast and high, all the men caught under it did not even have time to scream out in pain. Hell had arrived on the earth and the Trinamearans saw it first hand, nothing could ever compare anything.

         

         

John Marbern, the Mastral king, looked out on the beach, at the chaos that he had created with this war. He knew what hell the men on the beach were fighting through and he pitied them for it. All his life he had been taught to hate all Trinamearan, no matter what, but he did not believe in hate, he did not believe in war, no, instead he believed that each man and woman was an individual and should not be pushed into wars like the one the Mastrals and the Trinamear had been in for nearly four generations.

          John was a tall man, standing at six feet and eight inches; he had blond hair and dazzling blue eyes, and a smile that was always true. He was the fourth king of the new kingdom of Mastral, and he had been in this war his entire life, from birth to now. The Trinameareans had been invaded years before he was born and every generation of his family had been fighting for Trinamear since birth, only him and his father. John turned to the catapult commanders and ordered them to cease their firing, the Trinamearan forces were making a retreat and he would not allow his men to shoot into their backs when they were defenseless.

          “Sire, why? If we get them on the run, shouldn't we chase them down and kill them now?" asked the first general Jacob Knight.

          General Jacob was a burly man with narrow hawk like eyes that appeared to be a solid black with a white outline, he had brown hair that was always in some way a mess, and a man whom John trusted more than he trusted his own two brothers, whom were constantly trying to stir rebellion and become the Mastral king themselves. If they were any other people John would have them killed, but they were still brothers. Jacob had grown up in much the same pampered way that John had, the only difference was that Jacob had let the prejudices taught to him to become him.

          “Because, Jacob, those are men just like me and you down there. They are only here because they feel the need to be and believe that they are doing the right thing by attacking us. If you went through what the Trinamear have you might feel as though you have been wronged just like they do and feel the need to wage war on those that caused that pain. Think about it for a minute, would you forgive the people who took your home and your family, by force? Would you stop to think if war is the right answer? No, you would not, and neither would any self-respecting man," John responded in a half whisper.

          Jacob did not say anything to his king because he was used to his softness towards people who did not deserve the mercy. John was always trying to make excuses for other actions and that was no way for a king to be, but Jacob still respected John for his relentlessness in this war, even if he did not believe in it at all.

          “Jacob, order all to hold. I do not want a massacre on our hands. We will let them retreat for now," John ordered.

          “As you wish sire. All arms down. All arms down," he shouted to the men nearest him and they repeated it till all arms was down and the counter attack came to a halt.

          “Jacob, call upon the dragon’s men, we must rally all of our armies for the end is coming and we must be prepared. We will sail for Trinamear, we already have forces in route, but they will fail, we will take Trinamear within the year,"

          The Trinamearan retreated to their ships and pulled to sea, leaving their dead and wounded for the coming day and the barbaric Mastrals.

Disandra had laid in LTe’vorea's hut for about a week before she was well enough to go out on her own, she walked all over the country side, day after day, that was all she did. She would walk and wonder about Te’vore and the war, would he come home to her like he had always promised, or would he never return. Her heart felt as if it was constantly falling into hell, she knew that her love was true for the pain she felt with him being gone. One day while she was walking along the creek in the early morning sun she was overcome with a sickness so intense that she fell to the ground and vomited. Her stomach heaved and felt as if it were going to split open at any moment. The pain and nausea passed after a few minutes of lying on the ground. Disandra got to her feet and walked to the edge of the creek and knelt to drink the water. As she drank the water Disandra decided to go to LTe’vorea, fore she knew much about illnesses and pains, maybe she could help Disandra.

          At the village gates the guards let her through without question; they knew her well because of all the walks she took outside of the village.

          “Good morn to ye' girlie," they said cheerily to her as she passed.

          “And a good morn to your self’s," she responded with false cheer.

          LTe’vorea lived on the far side of the village, but today she was in the local market place, bartering for herbs and spices.

          LTe’vorea saw Disandra coming towards her and collected her items and motioned toward her hut. Disandra caught up with LTe’vorea some little ways from her hut.

          “What seems to be the problem girlie?" LTe’vorea seemed concerned.

          “I don't know LTe’vorea. I was walking near the brook and I got sick, now normally I would let it go but it 'as happened quite a few times in the past week. Actually, every morning. Do you think it 'as something to do with my illness last week? Could it be coming back, even after it already left me?" asked Disandra.

          “I don't know, we'll just 'ave to 'ave a look at you,"

          They walked the rest of the short distance to LTe’vorea's hut in silence, they were both lost in thought about what the illness could be this time, for the illness Disandra had the week before was the kind that would only come to a person once in a great while. Disandra knew what the sickness was caused by; she just was not ready to admit the reason out loud until she talked to LTe’vorea and got her opinion in the matter.

          They entered the hut and Disandra sat on the shortened table that LTe’vorea used to examine the many people who came to her for help with their many different ailments. LTe’vorea set down her basket of herbs and spices upon the table beside of Disandra.

          “Now let's see here, open your mouth and put your tongue out for me to see," she commanded.

          Disandra did as she was told and stuck out her tongue for LTe’vorea to look at for discoloration or buildup of infection; there was none that LTe’vorea could see.

          “Okay, lift up your arms,"

          She patted Disandra's arms and breast then told her to lift up her dress. She did as she was told and yelped when LTe’vorea put her hand up her private area. LTe’vorea finally let Disandra put her dress down and relax before she told her the reason for her illness.

          “Girlie, you’re bearing the child of Te’vore's. Now it may seem that your body is going wild, but that's what happens to all women when they bear child. There isn't much that I can do you for, but I do got some herbs," LTe’vorea went to her shelves where she kept all of her herbs and gathered four different types and brought them back to the table.

          “You should mix with some honey and warm water every day at least three times, it'll make you feel a lot better than if you don't,"

          Disandra was not shocked because she had known that she was pregnant for about a week and had only wanted to ask LTe’vorea to be sure. Now that she knew that she was positively pregnant she began to cry, no sobs came from her lips, only the sparkling tears from her eyes. Disandra could not understand why she cried then, why had she held it in till that point? Her mind seemed a mess of thoughts and so many feelings that she began to feel overwhelmed, she did not show how she felt to LTe’vorea, although she did cry, everyone cried those days.

          “Thank you, LTe’vorea; you have done so much for me" Disandra wiped her cheeks free of the tears. “LTe’vorea, I owe you so much. This is the second time that you have helped me, how will I ever repay you?"

          “Don’t worry about it girlie dear, you owe me nothing. All I want you to do is stay strong and do whatever you need to," answered LTe’vorea.

          The welcoming drums began to beat at the eastward gates to the village.

          “The GuardTe’vore's!" exclaimed both Disandra and LTe’vorea at the same moment, jumping up and running out of the hut and towards the gate so they could hear what the dragons had to report.

          The four, Fravien, Travois, Salina, and Gallic, all sat just outside of the village walls waiting for one of the elders to come and greet them and translate for their people.

          The highest-ranking elder walked through the gate just as Disandra and LTe’vorea arrived at the walls. The elder spoke first.

          “People of the gods, hear thy words of praise and please do tell us what brings you so," wheezed the elder.

          The dragons did not seem to move their mouths, or any part of their bodies for that matter, but they sent images and feelings to the elder who then interpreted the information that was given.

          “The dragons say that the Mastrals have attacked our coast just north of here. They say that there was no harm done to anything other than the Mastrals themselves,"

          There was a great cheer from the villagers as they heard the dragon’s words through the mouth and voice of the elder, whom put his hands up for silence in the crowd as he continued.

          “They say also that the Mastrals will return that it is the time to call all men to arms. Armageddon is upon us, we must sound the Horns of Stal, this is the time of epics and heroes," rasped the elder.

          The entire village was silent; none had ever heard of such things, well legends were all the people really knew. Only those who had lived through it all would know the truth.

          The elder "spoke" with the dragons for a little while longer before addressing the crowd again. He spoke in a loud carrying voice so that all people could hear him.

          “People of Trinamear's capital, Trouhe, it has come to the time when dragons and people work together for the betterment of this world. It is time to put our differences in their rightful graves, today we unite six people with six dragons, into this new era they will ride, they will battle, they will love, win, and they will die. At the moons highest point tonight, we will send for the six chosen to lead our world out of this evil darkness, and into the true earth, the light and hope of all creatures,"

          The elder stopped and began his walk back to the village, not even the afternoon breeze made a sound. Many were struck with wonder and amazement, never had anything been done like this. Dragons were the angels of the gods put on earth to protect Trinamear.

          The people began to depart for their stalls in the market and their homes, all were talking of the night to come and all were wondering who would it be that became part god? Who would get to be part of the eternal glory and get to be remembered for all of time as one of the six to have started the AllTe’vorece of Trinamear? Who?

         

Te’vore looked back across the water at the beach, as his ships pulled out to sea, thinking of the new machines that the Mastrals had created. How they worked was a mystery to him and BrTe’vore and Micheal could not even fathom how such a machine was made and maintained. They had been winning the battle on the beach and had even called a victory when the flaming balls had forced a retreat. Most of the men were wounded from the fire that the Mastrals seemed to be very fond of, some were wounded from swords and crossbows, but almost all were burnt in some way.

          Te’vore had and arrow that was still flaming sticking out of his shoulder and had more cuts than he could count. He sat talking to BrTe’vore and Micheal about what they should do while the healer assigned to his ship used his magic to mend the wounds covering his body.

          “Well, we must go home to Trinamear and regroup. We have lost more men than I thought possible, thanks to those damned machines!" proclaimed BrTe’vore.

          “Yes, we should go home, but we must do something more than just regroup, we need to do something more. What do we do? How do we do more? We just attacked with everything we had, how can we do more?" quarried Te’vore.

          All three generals sat without speaking a word for what seemed like and eternity until the healer was done healing Te’vore's wounds and pulling the arrow from his shoulder. Micheal broke the silence with the solution to all their problems.

          “We will sound the Horns of Stal,"

          That was all that needed to be said; Te’vore ordered the ships to set course for the northern most port on Trinamear, and then a course for the Isle of Stal. The men all knew of the legends of Stal, but none knew the truth of the hell that awaited them.

          King John stood looking, over the ramparts of his castle, at the hundreds of dragons assembled and their human counterparts preparing to mount them. All the power at his disposal terrified John, he feared that it would eventually get to his head, that he would become too powerful and that by being too powerful he would bring the wrath of the gods upon himself and his people.

          “What news have you heard of our ships in Trinamear, Jacob?" asked John off handedly.

          “They have failed in their invasion attempt sire. The commanding officers have issued orders to return to port due to heavy casualties and to repair the damage done, by the guardTe’vores, to their ships. Sire, your plan is working well, but if I may be so bold to ask, what exactly do you wish to do with Trinamear when you've taken control?" responded Jacob.

          John stood thinking of whether to answer Jacob, or to have him killed for treason now. John knew that Jacob was going to try and kill him; he just did not have the proof of it yet. He decided to send him away and call in Dalieane Et~ Valles, his wife, to ask her for advice on how to handle Jacob.

          “Leave me for now and let me gather my thoughts and call for the Queen. I will come to you when I am ready to lay out my intentions. Now go," John commanded lightly.

          Jacob hesitated only for a moment before following his Kings orders. When he had left the ramparts and John alone he went to kill the Queen and began his coupe. He walked briskly down the two flights of winding stairs to the royal chamber, when he reached the doors he waved the guards away from their post and sent them to the royal kitchen to get him a bowel of iced water. He opened the door and walked into the ante-room looking for the quickest escape route.

          The Queen Walked into the room without glancing twice at Jacob.

          “Jacob, how are you?" she asked.

          “Just fine your Majesty. I was sent here with a message from the King, your husband," he approached her and drew his sword from behind to hide it from her until it was too late.

          He was upon the Queen before she knew what to do.

          “What have you done Jacob?" she cried when she saw the sword.

          He did not answer her he simply pushed the blade into her heart and when it stopped beating he laid her upon the floor gently. Then he left the chambers and walked back to the king to finish what he had started. He walked fast trying to think of what he would do if he failed and was captured, would he accept his fate and simply fall at the end of a noose, or would he take his own life to keep his honor and dignity?

          He reached the ramparts and looked at the king's back, it was time. He pointed the sword toward the king's back and crept forward, his heart was racing and his mind was going twice as fast. He reached the king's spot and thrust the blade into his back. John turned around and looked Jacob in the eyes and spoke.

          “Jacob, I knew you would do this, I knew you would kill Dalieane, so we did the only thing that can save a kingdom, we had a child, and “John began to cough up blood as he spoke. “You will never find our child because we have sent him away to the place no Mastral in his right mind would go. So, god's speed. Oh, and Jacob, I will see you in the after,"

          With his final words spoken the king leaned backwards over the edge of the ramparts and fell. Jacob ran to make sure that he hit the ground and then proceeded to sound the alarm. Three guards immediately came running up the stairs and asked what had caused him to sound the alarm.

          “The king is dead; there is an assassin within the castle. Go; look in on the Queen, maybe he hasn't reached her yet. Once you secure the Queen report back to me and we will discuss what is to happen. Now, go!" he ordered.

          When the guards had left he walked over to the rampart and looked down upon the hundreds of specks encircling the king’s broken body. Soon, very soon, he would be the new king.

         

Disandra had been sitting in LTe’vorea's hut when they heard the bells ringing, signaling the people that it was now midnight. Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and both women jumped at the sound.

          “I’m coming," called LTe’vorea as she stood to let the caller in.

          LTe’vorea opened the door and took a step back. Standing in the open doorway was one of the elders themselves.

          “Disandra, you are to come with me," she said simply.

          Disandra stood slowly, hoping that LTe’vorea would come with her so she wouldn't feel so alone, but LTe’vorea just stood staring at Disandra as if she were a completely different person. There was no way she could be chosen, she was pregnant with Te’vore's baby and she could not let her child be hurt.

          “No, I won't go with you," Disandra said defTe’voretly.

          “You will, because it is not you who have been chosen but your unborn daughter," said the elder calmly.

          " How do you know of my child and how can you tell whether it be boy or girl?" spat out Disandra while backing away from the elder as if she were a demon come for her child.

          “Peace young one, the dragons have powers that no one on this earth could ever fully understand and it is they who have told me all I know and have chosen your daughter to be the first to be united with a dragon. Do not fear it, for she will be better off being bound with a dragon than not. So come and speak with the leader of the guardTe’vores, Favien, and let him tell you all you must know," with that the elder turned and began to walk away from the hut.

          Disandra glanced toward LTe’vorea, who still had the most peculiar look on her face, and left the hut to follow the elder so she could hear what the dragon had to say.

          The sky was clear and shining with billions of stars, like diamonds sparkling in the sunlight, and the moon was gigantic and silver. Disandra was not paying attention to the night sky though for she was busy trying to figure out what the dragon's thought her and Te’vore's child possessed and why they thought she could lead and entire world into a new era of peace and prosperity.

          The elder led the way out of the northern gate and unto the empty fields of De` La U`na. They walked in complete silence for there were no trees for the birds to sing their lulling tunes at weary passersby at night, and no creature ever ventured unto those fields, for if you followed the De` La U`na's far enough you would come to the frozen northern waters of the sea of Stal, which, as legend had it, were haunted by demons and were infested with monstrous creatures which no man or women would ever dare to face. It was said that even the GuardTe’vores of Trinamear were afraid to approach those northern places on the earth.           

          Disandra was beginning to feel worried because she could no longer see the village; she never walked that far from the village without being with Te’vore. Disandra looked toward the sky for the first time since she had left the hut and began to think about Te’vore and her. Her mind seemed to drift into a mist and suddenly the memories swept into her past.

          Disandra awoke in his arms, just like she had fallen asleep. She lay beside him on the forest floor trying to cuddle closer for warmth as the pre-dawn air pressed its cold fingers against her back. They were all that was left of their village, her and him.

          As she laid there beside Te’vore she began to drift off again when somebody picked her up off of the ground and put their hand over her mouth. She bit down on it as hard as she could, drawing blood and a scream of pain. Te’vore awoke to the scream and saw Disandra getting slapped in the mouth by a Mastral soldier. Disandra saw him open and then close his eyes, but not before looking into hers and exchanging a message.

          Other soldiers came from around the trees and bushes with their swords drawn and arrows fitted into the bows.

          “What do we do with her?" asked the soldier holding Disandra.

          “Whatever you so please. Is the boy dead?" asked the higher-ranking officer.

          The soldier holding Disandra said yes, he was dead and turned to take Disandra into the bushes to have his way with her. Te’vore, with little more than a twitch of the wrist, threw the knife his father had given him into the back of Disandra's attacker's head. The other higher-ranking soldier saw the movement and brought his sword down to impale Te’vore, but with an inhuman speed Disandra punched him in his unprotected stomach and brought him to the ground breathless while Te’vore took advantage of the sword and grabbed it, bringing it down on the Mastrals neck.

          By the time all of this had happened seven other soldiers had surrounded the skirmish and were working their way into the fray. Te’vore stood back to back with Disandra and made a full circle as to assess their situation. He waited until they made the first move. The soldier directly to his back lunged at Disandra, Te’vore grabbed her and spun her around to face him and at the same time he jumped only a fraction to the left and the Mastral fell flat on his face. Te’vore and Disandra ran through the gap while the other soldiers charged at them.

          “Go, run and don't wait for me. I'll catch up!" yelled Te’vore as he forced Disandra to run away from the fight.

          He turned back towards their attackers just as one of them made a swing for his head; he ducked it and placed his sword into the gut of the other man, while also taking the Mastrals sword. Now he had two swords and six enemies left, two with arrows, he made a quick prayer to the gods for some strength and speed. An arrow whistled past his head and embedded itself in a tree four inches from his ear. Suddenly the air was full of arrows; Te’vore brought both of his swords into a spinning motion which knocked the arrows out of the air just as easily as if killing flies. He began to step forward towards the archers, neither gave in to his approach until it was too late and he was upon them. He made two swings with one motion taking off the heads of the archers.

          The three-remaining swordsman charged him all at once, the first sword he dodged with a simple lean to the left while slashing the air with his sword, cutting the man from his stomach to his chin. The last two hits at the same time, sparks danced before their eyes as they swung and blocked dodged and parried. Te’vore was fighting two fights at once, one with each sword.

          Before any knew what was happening Disandra had returned to help Te’vore and grabbed a sword and sent it sliding through the heart of the Mastral on Te’vore's right, causing the one on his left to falter. His sword slipped out of his hand and to the ground, instantly he was on his knees with three swords pointed at his throat, tears rolling down his cheeks.

          “Please, spare me. I have gold and I'll..." he stammered.

          “Shut your mouth!" screamed Disandra; fire was literally covering her body. " You will live today so that you can tell any other Mastrals following us that it is futile, and just to prove it we'll cut out one of your eyes,"

          The pure hatred that she felt toward the soldier was emanating into the air around her, the pure intensity of it astounded Te’vore. Disandra had noticed that her anger was nearly out of control, but she didn't care, the soldier before her had been part of the force that had taken her father and her home, he would pay.

          Te’vore began to feel light headed as he stood watching Disandra half blind the Mastral, his mind began to swim with a hazy cover. He staggered to the nearest tree for support. Disandra looked at him and noticed blood covering his left side, his blood, not the Mastrals. She had to help him and she had to do it now or she would be alone again and she couldn't be alone, not ever again.

          Te’vore fell to the ground and lost all consciousness as Disandra's face came into his view.

          She ripped the sleeves off of her dress and tied them together to make a make-shift bandage. She wrapped it around his stomach as tight as she could and put a wad of it on the wound itself so that it would ease the bleeding. After the bleeding had slowed a bit she propped him against the tree and got some water from the stream to clean her hands.

          They had to make it to the capital, though; she had to get Te’vore there no matter what.

          Disandra opened her eyes and looked at the back of the elder, she shook her head trying to clear it of the memory, and she had to be clear headed when she met with the dragons. She thought about how Te’vore would react once he heard of his child and that their child had been chosen to be one of the first riders.

          The elder stopped ahead, some little ways ahead of her, turned and spoke.

          “I must go now and retrieve the other five chosen ones. The guardTe’vores will be here after I am gone," she saw the bewildered look on Disandra's face and reassured her. “Do not fear, the dragons will be able to communicate with you even if I am not present. They have very mysterious powers that you and I can only fathom, as I said before. They have requested to see you alone with no other persons, so I told them to meet you here in the hilly fields of De` La U`na. I will return for you after they have left,"

          The elder turned and walked back towards Touhe, the capital. Disandra's heart was beating hard enough for her to hear it in her ears, her mind raced with thoughts of demons and dark angels, only two of the monstrous creatures that dwelled on the upper countries of the world. She looked toward the sky just as the guardTe’vores were descending on the earth for their meeting with her and her child. Their landing shook the earth around Disandra, and she almost lost her footing from the rush of air from their wings.

          There were four of them; they were larger than any that Disandra had seen before. The one closest to her was at least forty feet tall and had silver and gold scales covering its body, it's eyes were a silver black mist that shone in the night like the sun in the day. It spoke to Disandra first, before the others had even landed.

          “Young one, do not fear me or my sisters. We are the guardTe’vores of all the guardTe’vores, much like your elders are the leaders of your regular people," the dragon purred out loud.

          “I am no longer afraid, though I am puzzled. How can you speak out loud to me? I thought that dragons could not speak like us humans can," Disandra inquired.

          “Ah, but language is a skill of intelligent beings is it not? Therefore, it is only fit that the gods should endow the leaders of the dragon race to be bilingual, is it not?"

          “Yes, I suppose it does make sense,"

          “Now child, listen closely to what I must say for it concerns not only you and your family, but the entire world, not to be a dramatist of course. Your daughter has been chosen by my sisters and I, we have chosen her for her skill of learning anything put in front of her and her keen warriors sense brought be your future husband's side of her. Now I am sure that the elder has told you that we know these things due to our special powers as dragons, but he is wrong. Your mother, Lanstinia, has been kind enough to inform us of all we need to know to renew our world and save Trinamear from the Mastrals constant war efforts against us," said the dragon in her purring voice.

          “My... my mother? She spoke to you?" stammered Disandra.

          She had missed her mother her whole life and knew that she would not get to see her mother in her lifetime on earth. Disandra was hurt because her mother had spoken to someone other than her.

          “Yes, she spoke to us, but do not fret, for she mentioned you and told us to tell you that you will be seeing her here on earth much sooner than you think. Well then, all I must tell you now is that in seven and a half months your child will be born and the day she turns of ten years we will begin our training with her. You may go now, but please, accept a ride from my sister Uetrean, she has offered you a ride," finished the great dragon.

          The second largest dragon with blue and white scales and solid blue eyes, took a massive step forward and lowered her head so Disandra could climb unto her neck. Disandra accepted the offer and climbed in-between to gigantic ridges and told the dragon she was ready. She felt a rush of air on her back as the guardTe’vore bent her legs to leap into the air; Disandra was forced backwards as Uetrean pushed her body into the sky. Disandra looked down at the ground and gasped for they were already as high as the clouds.

          “Amazing, isn't it?" asked Uetrean.

          Disandra tried to answer, but the wind prevented her from speaking out loud so she thought her answer in hopes that the dragon could here it.

          “Yes, I've never experienced anything like this in my entire life,"

          “Well, you must come with me more often so I can have someone to talk to on my longer flights,"

          “Alright. Is that Touhe?" asked Disandra pointing below at thousands of fiery lights.

          “Yes, it is. You had better hold on,"

          “Why..."

          Uetrean spiraled straight down for Touhe in a blinding spin, and when it seemed that they would hit the earth at those astonishing speeds she pulled out of the dive and landed outside of Disandra's house.

          “I will return soon for another flight," purred Uetrean as she rose into the air and left Disandra to wonder about all that had happened lately and what would come of it all. 

         

Te’vore looked out at the coast of his home, the coast of Trinamear, and the port of Gallias. The farthest northern settlement on Trinamear, it was only six hundred miles from the capital, and Disandra, but he had a mission.

          He could see where the fields of Da` La` Una ended and the icy frontier of Stal began, the collision of hell and heaven on earth happened here, right in Trinamear.

          “All ships halt!" called Te’vore.

          He turned and spoke to the flagger, a messenger who used flags to send messages to the other ships, and told him to order the long boats to be put in the water and for each ship to take in the wounded who had survived the journey and to bring back only necessary supplies.

          Te’vore climbed into the long boat his ship had put into the water, as did the other generals. When they reached the docks fellow Trinamearan soldiers greeted them.

          “Salute you!" came the welcoming.

          “Thank you, colonel," responded Te’vore as he climbed the latter out of the boat. “We have word for you to send to Trouhe. The battle is lost, but the war continues. Also, we have a list of survivors and casualties to be sent out to the public. Understood?"

          “As the sun rises..."

          “The evil falls," finished Te’vore, saluting the soldier before he left to carry out his orders.

          “Te’vore," called Micheal, from the supply shop at the head of the peer, as he ran out to Te’vore. “We made it sir. We survived an attack on the Mastrals. We have just made history,"

          “Yes, but we lost the battle, and to win the war we must go to the Isle of Stal..." Te’vore was cut short as a messenger interrupted them.

          “Sirs, I bring many great messages for you," said the messenger while saluting all three generals, BrTe’vore had just joined them.

          “Proceed," said Micheal.

          “Very well. An attempted invasion by the Mastral forces has failed thanks to the quick and effective reactions by the guardTe’vores. They successfully drove out the invading force with little resistance and no civilTe’vore, or official, casualties. Secondly, King Salurie` Alite has offered his support in the war against Mastral by sending his entire naval fleet. He also sends a new weapon and men to train our soldiers so they will be able to use them. Thirdly you, King Te’vore, General Micheal, and General BrTe’vore, have all three been summoned to the capital Touhe, to be properly equipped with our new weapons and by the elder’s request to give you another new war aid. That is all sirs," finished the Messenger with a sigh.           

          “Well, okay then. Now we know what our orders are and we know that we're still in this war, we can go home for a wee bit before we sail for Stal, and see our families," said BrTe’vore.

          “Yeah, home. Well let's get our supplies and finish helping the wounded unto shore. Tomorrow, we sail for Touhe," Te’vore ordered happily.

          That night, after all the supplies needed for the two-day trip to Touhe were loaded, and all the men were bedded down, Te’vore stood on the forward deck of his ship thinking about his part in the grand scheme of all of the war. He was supposed to be the king of Trinamear, but Trinamear did not have a king right now, they had elders and other people whom the general populace unanimously chose to be a higher ranking official. The kingdom of Trinamear had fallen with his father and that left him without a place, except that he had become a general even before he had become of age.

          His only purpose was to do what he could to protect Disandra and his home; no Mastral would ever take either one from him again. Never.

          Te’vore awoke to a great fog covering all his ships; it was not anything he could not handle. He ordered the ships to fall into formation and set their sails. He also ordered all weapons on deck and for everyone to polish their armor and shields, he was coming back from Mastral, no one had ever made it back before then, they were going to look their best for the people when they returned to home port.

          By the time the sun had reached its highest point for the day the fog had dissipated and the men were in good cheer. Every person was on deck and trying to aid the effort to put on a good show for everyone waiting for their return. All of them were excited to be returning home, to see their families and find out what had happened while they had been gone. Yet some of them were wondering about the ones who had not survived, wondering about the ones who had been left behind in Mastral. Te’vore himself did not really think about those who had died, but more of those who had survived, for they were the truly unlucky ones, because they would be the ones going into Stal. Just the thought of Stal was worse than any army that the Mastal's could bring against Trinamear.

          Real demons and gargantuan sea monsters of the worst kind, dark curses and spells. Not even a guardTe’vore would willingly go near the Isle of Stal, for it was said that a dark force, greater than any other on earth, slumbered there, and that whoever woke the creature would suffer the wrath of Hell for all of time. The skies were almost always blackened night in the sea of Stal, because of how little sunlight reached the sky that far north on the earth.

          Te’vore looked toward golden white sand on the coast, at the sparkling green and blue waves falling into the shore, and toward the darkest blue sky he had ever seen, and he wondered how something so grand and magnificent could be involved in such evil's as the Mastrals and why the gods did not come to earth to end the war. He did not know any answers to any of his own questions and did not really need them answered for he knew how to end the war, defeat the Mastrals.

Disandra and LTe’vorea stood at the very head of all the villagers and gathered people waiting for the ships to round the final piece of land separating them from their home. The day before a messenger, from the only village farther north than Touhe, Gallias, and he brought news of the ships returning to Trinamear after their attempted offensive on Mastral. All the people had heard and most were there to see the legendary force that had returned home after leaving for war in Mastral, even though they did not win their battle they were still legends just for surviving.

          LTe’vorea spotted the first ship rounding the point, she called out and everyone began cheering louder and louder for every ship that rounded the point. All of them saw the flag of mourning, but it did not dampen their spirits, instead, when they saw that the soldiers were all in full armor and standing at attention on deck it seemed to cause the entire crowd to intensely patriotic and cheer even louder than they already were. 

          As the first ship docked Disandra new that Te’vore would be on it and she was waiting for him, she saw him walking down the gangplank that had just been lowered, but he did not look at her just then, instead as soon as he got to the bottom of the walkway he stepped to the side and waited until all his men were off the ship and in formation waiting for every ship to do the same. He looked the same except for his beard had grown in a little on he and he looked fairly worn down.

          When all the ships had docked and de-boarded Te’vore, Micheal, and BrTe’vore all walked to the front of the formations and gave orders to the head of the formations that them and their men had one week to rest and recuperate and then it was into retraining for all of them. After all the leaders had been informed of their orders a trumpet sounded and all the men broke formation and went to their families and friends to catch up on all the news that they had missed.

          Te’vore looked at all the faces around him until his eye's fell upon Disandra's, and she saw his eye's consider hers. He tipped his head in the direction of the forest south of the harbor; Disandra saw it and nodded back.

          Te’vore turned to leave the docks and meet Disandra at their secret place, but two soldiers from King Salurie` Alite's army approached him.

          “King, we have a request that you come to the great fields north of Touhe tomorrow at the rising of the sun. Does that suit you?"

          “Yes, we will be there," he answered. “Me and the other two generals," 

          With that Te’vore turned and walked away from them, towards his love, towards his future wife.

         

Jacob had been in a very poor mood the past month, first he had let the Trinamearan scum retreat for the first time and now he had to find John's son who was somewhere in the world, but not in Mastral, and to top it all off he had to publicly announce his succession to the throne and say some stupid speech about John and Dalieane. He had an hour before all the speeches were to be given and an hour before he would officially become the king of Mastral. He had just finished with a slave girl and decided that she had not pleased him enough so he sent her to the gallows for treason along with the two guards he had blamed for the assassinations of the royal family.

          With the hour he had to himself he could do what so ever he pleased he decided to use the secret passage ways within the castle and listen in on the conversations of the staff and guards. He walked to the fire place in the front room of the royal courtiers and tapped four times on the mantle, which slid back away from him and opened into a stairwell. He entered and the mantle moved back into its place, he decided to go to the kitchens first and see what his cooks were saying.

          He descended the stairs in a spiral until he was on the ground floor and then he took a left turn and followed that passage way for fifteen steps and stopped. There was a sliding slot that if pulled out you could consider the kitchen and hear what the people inside were saying. He moved the slot and began his eavesdropping.

          “Berty, watches the bread, will you?" asked Rallin, the head chef. “I need to talk with Jossue,"

          Rallin closed the door to the back room and Jossue spoke.

          “Rallin, Jacob did it. I just know he did," Jossue sounded worried.

          “Yes, he probably did, but remembers that John had that maiden take his son just in case this sort of thing occurred. Everyone but Jacob knew about it, and the reason for that is so that we don't lose hope when things start to get bad and believe me they are going to get bad real fast now that Jacob is going to take over the place. All well, we just got to keep our heads down and maybe we won't lose them," replied Rallin.

          “Rallin, if it gets to the point of tyranny we could always poison him," suggested Jossue.

          “We could if the resistance doesn't figure him out..." said Rallin.

          Jacob had heard enough, he knew of the resistance that the cooks spoke of, but they would be crushed before the weeks end for he had chosen the members on John’s orders and all of them were weak and hardly rebellious. As for the staff, if the cooks, who knew less than anyone, knew all of this than he would have to have the entire staff replaced as soon as possible and kill the people on the present staff.

          He slid the slot back into place and returned to the royal courtier just as a guard opened the door to escort him to the public-address balcony where he could speak to the entire population of the capital. The walked down the decorated hallways and staircases to the top floor where the balcony was located.

          As he approached the balcony the crowd below quieted to a dull murmuring, as almost all were grieving for the death of their king.

          “People of Mastral, lend me your ears if only for a moment, for I have not much to say. Yes, we have lost two of this country greatest ruler and of course no person or persons will ever be able to replace them, but it is the dawning of a new era of a new world order. We will conquer the Trinamearan infidels and will avenge the death of our leaders, and to do so, I will fulfill the final wishes of John and succeed to the throne and lead this country into greatness, into the new world we will ride and we will be the leader of all," he finished short, sweet, and to the point.

          “Great speech your highness," complimented his guard.

          “Whatever, go fetch me some wine and another slave for I grow bored with this," he ordered. “And for every minute you make me wait that is a lashing that you get on your stomach,"

          “Yes sire," the guard answered somewhat angrily as he left to do as he was told.

Craven Router, the best captain known to the world saw the response.

          “Load the cannons now!" he called down to the deck. “They’re going to put up a fight,"

          “What in the gods’ names are those?" Craven asked his first mate.

          “I don't know captain, but whatever they are they are shooting arrows at us. Do you want to fall back and fire upon them instead of the ship?" suggested the first mate.

          " No, coax as much speed as you can into the sails and concentrate half of the cannons on those...those... things, and half on the ship we mustn't let her pull away from us. Our orders are to stop every ship we find, search it from bow to stern, and to take any children we find and kill them. Jacob has succeeded to the throne and we obey his orders now, do not fail me or it'll be your head. Understand?" ordered Craven

          “Aye, sir," his first mate replied with contempt. He turned his back on Craven and yelled out the orders necessary.

          The flying machines were relentless with their attack. Craven counted at the very least ten of them. They would fly high into the clouds, out of the cannons range, and then dive towards the ship, releasing arrows so quickly that they couldn't concentrate their fire power in any one direction. One cannon got lucky and struck one of the machines, bringing it down upon the ship. Craven saw one of the thing's getting hit by a ball, he watched helplessly as it came crashing into his ship like a flaming mass of hell.

          Men ran as fast as they could to get out of the falling flier's way, but many didn't make it in time. It crashed into them and dragged them through the entire ship and into the open ocean causing a great yawning hole in his ship. Craven watched as the water rose to cover him and his ship. He ran to the side where the men that were left were putting a boat into the water.

          “Go, get it off the ship you idiots," he screamed franticly. “Cut the lines if you value your lives. The ship is going to be at the bottom in minutes,"

          They cut the lines and got into the lifeboat, pushing of just as the mid deck went under the water.

          Craven had seen the fliers return to their ship and began to consult the maps he had saved to get a bearing and find the nearest portion of land. He heard the noise of one of the fliers coming from the opposite direction of its ship. He looked up from his maps and knew exactly what was happening; he dove over the side of the lifeboat just as the arrows hit it. He put himself underneath the boat so that the arrows wouldn't hit him.

          He could hear the men shouting in pain and agony as the arrows thudded through their bodies and into the small boat. When Craven thought he could hold his breath not a second more he swam to the surface and watched from the water as the flier landed on the rapidly disappearing ship.

Craven climbed into the boat to find all his men were dead or dying, so he through them all overboard so that he wouldn't have to live with the smell of them the next day when the sun would rise to its peak. The maps were bloodied and holed from the arrows, but Craven could still read his position and his planned destination of the Island of Fairy's. It was the closest piece of dry land and good food, although it was rumored to be inhabited not by the friendly SalvarTe’vore fairies, but by the evil soul stealers, Noroan pixies. Craven did not care if he was safe on the dry land. He marked the island and began his long night of rowing toward the island of Hie 'et Oun, the fairies land.

         

Te’vore found Disandra at the water’s edge of the sea, where the great forest Isilgoth and the sea of Trinamear met one and other, and their secret hideout since they had arrived at the capital as refugee children. They were surrounded by trees inside of a small pool of sea water mixed with fresh water; Disandra was standing on the opposite shore, which was only ten feet away. Te’vore did not even stop to take off his boots, sword, or any other piece of clothing, before wadding into the pool. Disandra did the same and met him in the middle where the water came up to their chests. Te’vore grabbed her gently around her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

          “Where have you been, love?" Disandra asked softly into his ear. “What have you seen?"

          He answered.

          “To the shores of Mastral. I have seen the war first hand and witnessed the entrance of a new era of weaponry. Although not a single part of my shortened journey was as important to me as coming home to you. To all of this, but my journey is not done, it has barely begun my love. We have much to accomplish in such a short time, we must retrain for this new weapon that the king of Alistra has sent as a gift and we must obtain the aide of the guardTe’vores for we go to Stal within six months,"

          “Ah, my man is but a dramatist," laughed Disandra lightly. “Do you truly have to do all of what you say? For if so, then how will you raise our daughter?"

          “So, my worst nightmare has come to pass, has it?" he joked. “Alas, how do you know what sex our child is even before it is born?"

          “She, our daughter, has been chosen as a dragon rider. She will be the first of six once she is born, and the dragons are told of all they know by the gods themselves whenever they ask for it. That is how they can guard Trinamear so well. The gods are on their side," she said.

          Te’vore seemed to be thinking for he did not speak for a minute or so.

          “Well, we are truly changing the world,”

          “Yes, we are," she responded simply. “But even with all of that you still haven’t mentioned what will we name our daughter?" she asked considering his eyes

          “I do not know, I think that we should name her after your mother," he said with a touch of unsurity.

          “That sounds like a perfect idea," she assured him with a smile. “And I think mother would approve,"

         

The ship tossed and bucked in the choppy waters of the great ocean, the maiden, Hesne Jourea, held the child close to her bosom as she stood on the deck of the ship that was taking her and the royal child away. King John had chosen her since she had nothing in Mastral to lose and sent her with his son so that Jacob could not destroy the kingdom for good when he tried to take over. Hesne didn't think that Jacob would ever do such a thing, but the king had seemed so intent on getting his son as far from Jacob's reach as possible.

          Hesne was a pretty young woman with dark skin and bright green eye's, she had long black hair that shined even in the darkest of nights out on that horrible ship heading for Alistra. She was educated just like everyone else on the royal staff, and was extremely strong willed when it came right down to it. The king had chosen her not only because she was more than willing, but because she had a quality about her that no other person could match.

          Alistra was the third country of the world and it was mainly made up of snowy mountains and deepest, lushest, valleys, a very interesting country to visit. The king of Alistra knew of her and the child’s coming to his country and was more than happy to take them in and provide discreet assistance. What Hesne did not yet know was that what John had feared had come to pass, although the king of Alistra did and he had already acted against Mastral by providing a new machine that flew, to the Trinamearan military, and he had also sent half of his army to help fight the war.

          Hesne was watching the churning water and beginning to feel sleepy when the watch tower bell rang through the night like the cry of a banshee.

          “Port side, ship with cannons drawn up to fire, fifteen hundred yards and closing fast," called the watchmen.

          It was night and hard to see the ship at that distance without a scope, but it was clear for it had the Mastral war flag flying high and proud. Fear ripped through Hesne like a cold knife in the back. Could it have really happened?

          She turned and ran below deck to her bunk and crawled under it with the child, waiting.

          “Captain, she's signaling for us to halt and let them check us. What is the response?" called the watchmen again. The captain was at the wheel of the ship, knowing what precious cargo that they carried he gave his orders.

          Captain Gregory Shlowin, of the Alistran navy, ordered his men to their battle stations. Cannons were rare, only the Mastral navy had them and they were supposed to just be a legend or something only proposed as an idea. He had also heard that the Mastrals were working on some new shooting weapon, he hoped to the gods that they did not have those yet or there would be no future chance to save Mastral.

          “Bring all sails to full holding, pull out the oars and row! We must run and run fast," he yelled to everyone in general.

          Hesne could feel the ship gaining speed and she could hear men rushing to get their jobs done. Then everything went quiet, except for a booming noise and then the ship began to shake and shutter. The wall across from her bunk exploded with a boom that deafened her with a ringing in her ears. She crept out of her hiding spot and went to the massive hole in the side of the ship. The ocean was mere feet away from the base of the hole and she feared that the ship might fill with water and sink, taking her and the child down to the bottom of the unforgiving monster. She peered out at the pursuing ship and gasped at it, she had grown up around ships in the Mastral capital port and had never seen such a ship, it had black holes in its side in which flames were coming out and sending black balls flying into their ship. And the shape and size were astounding; the world really was changing, just as everyone had said before she had left.

          “Captain," called the first mate on the Astral ship. “Should we use our new weapon?"

          “Yes, use them now before they sink us," he answered franticly as he wrestled to keep the ship on its heading.

          “Pilots, go, go, and go," called the first mate.

          A horn sounded within the ship and all the men that were on the main deck scrambled to get off the deck as it slid out and was replaced by another that held the new flying machines that Stubondy Elt had created two months ago. They had propellers to propel them through the air and wings that did not flap like the dragons, but had pieces that moved to allow maneuverability in the air and they could fly just as fast as the guardTe’vores of Trinamear and just as gracefully if the need arose.

          The people trained to operate these machines got into what was called the cockpit and rocketed off the deck and into the air. Hesne was overwhelmed, she was witnessing the new era first hand and it was crazy.

          Thomas Mcadey was the first ever pilot who had completed training to fly the invention in war. He was exhilarated because this was his first time flying in a combat mission and he was scared, but ready to fly. He didn't have any way to communicate with his other pilots yet, but that didn't concern him since they all had practiced every day for the past two months together and knew what the others would do instinctively.

          Thomas was the first in the air, he was thrilled to be there and with the Mastrals newest weapon challenging Alistran newest weapon he was ready to win. He pulled back on the stick that controlled the machines movement in the air and he flew higher still. Once he had reached the height he thought was good he leveled out and began his dive towards the Mastral ship, firing arrows from the nose of the bird, as it was nicknamed, at the people on the deck of the ship. He pulled out of the dive and dodged one of his own birds banking to the right he suddenly became aware that the black tubes were firing at the birds, his got hit on his stabilizing wing and he began to spiral, slowly at first then he began to pick up speed. The last thing he saw before hitting the Mastral ship was the image of his wife crying at his memorial.

Tanoe, the second pilot, was devastated for his best friend had been the pilot of the bird that had been shot down. The other pilots had returned to the ship after they were sure that the Mastrals ship was sinking to the bottom, but not him. He was in a blood rage caused by the loss; the few men who had made it out of the fast sinking ship were going to pay for what they had caused. He flew low, the white caps of the tossing ocean were nearly brushing the bottom of his "Bird", and he throttled the engine to full power and took his aim. The arrows flew straight and true hitting all the men in the lifeboat as they tried to scramble out of the longboat in order to save their lives. He made a quick flyby to assure that they were dead and then flew back to his base ship.

          “Attention on deck!" shouted the Alistran ships first mate. “Presenting Captain Shlowin!"

          All the pilots had landed by then and all hands were on deck to assist with the routine maintenance for all post flights. All movement stopped and the enlisted naval personnel turned and stood at attention facing Gregory. He held his hands behind his back as he looked out across the expanded deck and took in the scene.

          “Rejoice fellows, for we have proved our might against the Mastrals Naval force. Of course, we won at the cost of one of our own, but it was his duty and his wish to fight against the evil in this world. He died honorably and no one can ever take that from him, or from his country," He made his speech short, but it had the wanted effect on his men.

          They all cheered and applauded at the speech made by their captain, all of them except for Tanoe. He stood solid as a rock even after all the others had begun their duties again, his spine rigid and his jaw line rippling with anger. He finally saluted and walked past all the deck hands and down into the bowels of the ship to his bunk. Men were running everywhere to stop the flooding caused by the Mastrals new weapons and repair other necessary parts to their ship so they would all make it home alive. He did not worry because of his trust in those men in charge and his anger towards the death of his best friend, his only true friend.

Gregory stood at the captain’s post giving the orders and trying to decide on the best plan of action. His duty was to protect Hesne and the child of King John of Mastral. His men did not know of this yet although they were aware of the two onboard the ship and knew that they had specific orders not to touch either of them. Gregory decided to call her to the post with him so as to discuss his plans to get her to Alistra swiftly and safely.

          “Ka` Jacue," he called his first mate. “Send for the girl and Tanoe. I wish to have a word with them in private and alert the deck hands that Tanoe will be taking flight shortly and to ready his “Bird". Use all haste for I do not have time to waste," he chuckled at his rhyme while Ka` Jacue used the ships unique calling system which used long tubes with openings at each end for people to speak and listen through.

Tanoe was lying in his bunk thinking of the fight and how different it was when it wasn't just practice over the flight training fields. How if it had just been training Thomas would still be here joking around with him and laughing about the stories they told of their children and back in Alistra they would be drinking in celebration of their victory over the Mastral ship, but no. His best friend had been killed by a Mastral scum bag and there was nothing anyone could do to make it better for Tanoe.

          “Captain’s post calling Pilot Tanoe. Report immediately to the captain's post," called the new message system.

          Tanoe rolled from his bunk and began to put his uniform back on. He tried to calm himself so he would at least look presentable in front of the captain. He pushed open his door and made his way through the organized chaos in the tightly packed walkway to the upper decks. He had to squeeze past people who were running both ways to bring the ship back into its top notch working order.

          As he made his way to the captain’s post he wondered what they wanted of him and if he would have to fly again that night because he did not wish to fly for any reason just then, but if he was ordered to, he wouldn't really have a choice. He approached the post in a poor mind set, but he put on a good show.

          “Pilot Tanoe reporting Captain," he said with a salute and then standing at crisp snap to attention.

          “At ease pilot, I'm gonna cut the crap and just give you your orders, okay? Okay. You are to take a certain woman, and the child she carries with her, to the home port tonight. I do not expect you to tell anyone of this flight and if any people ask you about it I would hope that you would take my advice and just deny that it even took place. Understood?" snapped off Gregory.

          “Yes sir," Tanoe turned on his heels and march-stepped out of the captain’s post towards the launch deck where his "bird" sat waiting for his departure.

          Hesne was already standing near the nose of the "bird" when he approached her.

          “So, you’re the girl I am going to take for a ride, huh?" he asked politely.

          “Yes sir, I'm the one. My name is Hesne,"

          He looked her over as he went through the required body checks on the "bird" and decided she wasn't such a bad looking girl for her younger age. He was still thinking of Thomas, but he had mission to do and he wanted to get it done so he could go home to his wife and child. He helped Hesne up into the second seat in the bird and strapped her and the infant into it to protect them from the violent jolting that sometimes occurred when flying a "bird". One of the deck hands in charge of running the "birds" liftoffs and landings waved them to their mark on the deck for lift off. He glanced over his shoulder to the second seat and looked at Hesne's worried face.

          “Don’t worry Hesne; once we're airborne you won't ever want to land. You've never experienced anything like this," Tanoe called back to her as he started the engine. The machine roared to life and Hesne gripped at the straps holding her in the contraption. Tanoe was anxious to get the girl to the mainland and free himself of any more duties for at least a week, if not more.

          Tanoe’s anger at his friend’s death was not dulling with his new task, but merely being put on the back burner for the time being. He went through his check list one last time before he pulled unto the long deck newly designed for take-off. Everything was cleared for flight and he was ready to finish his short and easy mission of flying this girl and her bundle to the mainland.

          The dragons of Trinamear gathered about their great hall of council which was located inside the peak of an extinct volcano with no roof or any man-made floor. “Simple” was the dragon’s way of living and their form of government was to. There was a counsel of five dragons that made all final decisions for the entire dragon population of Trinamear. There was no jury or court for dragons, only the Head Council which was in control of all major decisions involved with any of the dragons. Mostly they were obeyed and respected even though they had no official policing force to enforce their rules and laws.

          A meeting had been called to address the proposal the southern dragons and the western dragons of Trinamear had created. They wished to deploy an armed force of dragons and humans to save the Trinamear from Mastral invasion and somehow reunite the world into one great allTe’vorece of peace and prosperity.  Dragons from around the world came to the counsel just to hear the historic ruling of the dragon’s counsel as soon as possible, for many of them it would mean the difference between going to fight in the most epic war of all of the history of the world and staying in their homelands with their own families and friends. Most of the younger dragons would aid the cause no matter what the ruling on the allTe’vorece vote; they believed that the vote was only for show anyway because there was no military force to stop any dragon who truly wished to help.

Fravien was one of the more outstanding dragons that were not yet on the council for he still had yet to accept the nomination that the five council dragons had offered him. He was present along with his flying squad and was ready to here the decision the counsel had come to. He was the dragon who had placed the proposal in the counsel’s agenda and he was only present to ensure that the counsel didn’t rule unjustly on it.

          “The counsel will come to order,” roared Casinder the counsel senior member.

          The grand hall became silent and still with anticipation.

          “On our agenda is one proposal. The proposal to build a military force of dragons and humans  

Jacob sat lazily upon his throne with his heavy crown laden with rubies, diamonds, and many other rare and precious gems. His enormous fur lined cape puffing gently out from behind him. His eyes were stone cold as he stared off into a world known only to him. He had been upon the throne for a month and refused to leave it unattended for more than a few minutes at a time.

          His mind drifted from fantasy to fantasy and he completely ignored the reality of his Kingly duties to his people. He had raised the taxes to thirty-five percent just so he could enjoy executing those whom could not pay their debts on time. He held daily executions just for his enjoyment and slept with any woman of his choice whether she was married or not. Many of the Mastral commoners were talking of rebellion, but he knew of this and would send his assassins to take care of the problem discretely.

          Though his schedule was filled with all those pleasures he always made time for daily meetings to discuss battle plans involving the dragons and all of their resources. Usually he was in his worst mood after those meetings and people avoided the great throne room, all but one man, Derion, the lead dragon rider.

          He had black and blond hair with hazel eyes that seemed to change their color with his moods. He was muscular down to every toe and had more cunning and stealth than a panther on the hunt. He was the one man that truly shared Jacob's ideals and beliefs without question. He also wished for a major portion of the Rich’s after they had won the war and ruled the world.

          That day he was bearing the worst news yet to hit Jacob. He knelt and spoke.

          “Your majesty, we have lost Cravens ship. Most of the crew has been found dead in the water and there has been much debris spotted in the general vicinity that Cravens ship was last known to be in. They believe that Craven went down with his ship," he said with his head bowed.

          Jacob's temples throbbed from the effort of restraining his temper. That ship had been carrying the Mastrals newest weapon which shot balls of iron through the air at high speeds, causing great damage to the target that was hit with it. It was the best ship in the entire Mastral fleet and it had been bested by a mere Alistran Naval ship.

          “Well, I guess it is time that we let the world know that we are still a force to be feared and respected. Don't you think so?" he questioned Derion.

          Derion did not respond for a few seconds for he knew of Jacob's paranoia and of his short temper so he thought out his answer before saying it to Jacob.

          " Sire, I believe that we should do what you say is best for the country and if you say that it is best for us to unleash our full power for the world to see then so be it and I am proud to be one of the few people who will help to see that your orders are followed,"

          Jacob knew the nervousness that Derion felt and understood his answer might not be what he truly thought, but he did not care for he had an ally within Mastral, a scapegoat who would do anything for a small bag of gold and silver, if things went to the worst he would not be harmed.

                   

Copyright © 2018 Ian Wayne Grant Sparkman