Chapter #1 Destiny Offers a Path
Lightning flashed throughout the night skies as the torrential rains poured, the roads were bare as no-one was foolish enough to tread through such hellish weather. The trees in the woods sound as if they were moaning due to the strong wind. The thunder forced the ground to quake with every clap. It was indeed a frightening night that would surely spook even the hardiest of souls. Outside the city of Vailstone led a winding and narrow road to the cities castle, a castle that harbored a reasonable and loving king.
A frightening black stallion charged through the strong rain and pulled behind it an old dark stagecoach. At the reins of the rickety chariot sat a ghoulish being, a headless entity which emitted warm gray smoke from its exposed gaping neck. The headless coachman violently lashed the demonic horse with its fiery whip encouraging it to run faster. Each snap of its long whip sparked bursts of fire under the blanket of rain. The galloping beast’s hooves rivaled the grumbling thunder. In the nearing distance Vailstone’s castle walls were in visible range.
The castle had been warned and its line of defense had been issued. Much of the castle’s security was alarmed once the ghastly stagecoach reached its destination. The headless creature snapped its whip on the horses back causing it to rear up and open its mouth wide, regurgitating a large fire ball which clashed against the castle’s perimeter.
Soldiers positioned their guns from above the walls, readying their weapons and taking aim at the mysterious monsters that lurk throughout the night. The soldiers were unsettled at the appearance of the headless coachman until the grand duke appeared to evaluate this demonic threat.
The grand duke’s name is Raziel and was a highly trusted and reliable warrior of the kings. He bared few battle scars yet has killed hundreds of men and monsters in combat. He was a muscular black-haired man with a small silvery white patch of hair in the center of his head. The grand duke was an intimidating six feet and six inches tall. He had an aura of confidence about him and few had the resolve to oppose him. He stood tall while curiously staring at the dark menace on the other side of the castle and evaluating the threat.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BoXBY7bARne/
The grand duke stood beside a trembling soldier who had the apparition in the crosshairs of his gun. He placed his hand on the kneeling soldier’s shoulder to calm his nerves. Once the grand duke was confident the situation was only as it appeared, he gave the order to fire. The simultaneous gun fire rivaled the sound of the clapping thunder.
Lead bullets poured through the headless coachman’s fire spewing horse. Flame sprayed through the fresh bullet wounds of the dark beast forcing it to collapse to the moist muddy ground.
The coachman raised himself from his carriage seat and pointed to at the grand duke. Despite the hard rain and constant thunder, a blood gurgling voice could be heard emitting from the headless being, “Duuuuke!” it bellowed.
The headless coachman threw its arm back preparing to crack its whip towards the castle, before being riddled with bullets as its four-legged companion. The being fell from its gunshot damaged stagecoach. The creature and its horse lay lifelessly in puddles of water in the dousing rain. The entrance to the castle cracked open, allowing swarms of soldiers to seal the stagecoach and bodies in a human barricade.
The Vailstone kingdoms general stepped out into the pouring rain and before the deceased monster’s bodies. General Grechov was relatively new to the kingdoms military ranks but was placed in such a high position due to his impressive military background. His history and experience with war and combat may not have been the most pleasant, but it was certainly impressive to say the least. The man’s face expressed his many years of stress and fatigue. He had a mug only a mother could love.
“Make way for the grand duke!” he yelled against the crackling thunder, clearing a pathway for the grand duke amongst the barricade of soldiers.
The grand duke slowly approached the unworldly monsters in the pouring rain, but stopped as the crippling headless coachman stood back on its feet before the grand duke.
“DUKE!” it gurgled once more.
The grand duke reevaluated the trespasser, “Hm, apparently you hold some vendetta toward me specter. Tell me, am I the man who severed your head, and now you seek revenge on me?”
The ghoul lifted its whip to attack the grand duke as it called for him again.
“I see.” stated the grand duke in a calm calculating voice as he grabbed the handle of a broad sword sheathed to his side.
The castle guard’s awaited permission to open fire once again as the being began running towards their superior as best it could after being riddled with bullets. The grand duke stood unafraid with his sword prepared for combat. General Grechov stood behind the grand duke uneasy, worried this sudden attack may be more than it seems, perhaps an elaborate magic trap to kill the grand duke rather than actually attacking the king.
Thunder and lightning ruled the midnight sky as the coachman snapped its fiery whip at the duke. Raziel leapt to the side and dodged the ghoulish whip. As the coachman’s whip cracked against the muddy water a burst of flame sprouted for no more than three seconds, not long but indeed hot. The grand duke took this little surprise ability of the whip into consideration. The headless coachman reared back to snap the whip at the grand duke once again, but this time Raziel stood with his footing braced in the mud as best he could.
The whip cracked as Raziel blocked with his thick blade. The whip wrapped around the sword and flashed a burst of flame upon the grand duke, but he was prepared for it which is why he blocked the whip’s attack in a shielding position to avoid injury from the fire. The coachman jerked to retrieve his weapon from being snared on the warrior’s sword, but was unsuccessful. With the connection between the two weapons Raziel pulled the being in closer. Once the monster was in striking range the grand duke swung his magnificent blade with extreme power which sliced his headless enemy in two. The victor had given his severed enemy an evil glare as the rain washed the creatures blood from his blade.
General Grechov approached the grand duke to verify he was alright, but slowed down his pace once Raziel and he noticed the corpse of the headless coachman and its horse fading into black smoke under the thick rain.
“Orders, sir?” the general asked.
“Have the men search the stagecoach for any information they can find and report back to me. I’ll go and inform the king of what just transpired here tonight.” Raziel instructed.
As the grand duke returned to the castle general Grechov ordered the soldiers to inspect the ghoul’s stagecoach. Within an hour the general entered the king’s royal deliberation chamber after carefully searching every inch of the stagecoach. The deliberation chamber was an overly spacious area with golden tented walls and creatively designed tile floor. An enormous chandelier hung in the center of the room directly above a large wooden table. The grand duke reported the events that occurred outside the castle grounds to the king and his royal mystic.
King Dorian looked toward his mystic as he sat in his royal seat at the massive deliberation table, “A headless assassin after Raziel’s life, what do you make of this?” he asked.
The scrawny frail framed mystic sat to the king’s left, he placed a boney finger on his chin as he contemplated the extensive list of reasons why someone would want the grand duke murdered. It was impossible to read the royal mystic’s facial expressions since his entire head was covered by a massive wicker hat that shielded all but his beady red eyes.
The mystic looked across the table at Raziel, “Be’n so far north as we ’re, best I can fig’ya would be a necromanc’a try’n ta reanimate tha corpse on somebody ya killed long ago. Maybe fur revenge? Whad’ya think Raziel, any necromanc’a’s come ta mind?” wondered the mystic in his weak and feeble sounding voice.
The grand duke sat back in his seat with an annoyed look upon his face, “Damn it. I don’t have a clue. I’ve killed all my enemies. I can’t recall a single one that could be left.”
The three men sat in silence for a moment as lightning light up the room. The general finally approached the table, ready to inform his superior officer and king of his findings.
“General Grechov, have you anything to report?” the king asked hopefully.
The general was dripping wet when he approached the table at the opposite side of the king’s seat, “Yes, your majesty. We discovered this scroll inside the creature’s stagecoach.” Grechov opened the scroll in front of the others, “But it appears to be encrypted.” he reported.
King Dorian viewed the markings on the scroll, he then looked at the grand duke with concern, “Have someone decrypt this message. It may very well answer all of questions.”
The royal mystic placed his wrinkly hand on the scroll, “Wait! This ain’t an encrypted message, this is ancient text. A text used fur a dead language that’s been lost fur years.” the mystic recalled.
“Well, what does it say mystic?” inquired the king.
The mystic struggled to read the text, but wasn’t successful, “All I can make out’s ‘temple’ or somethin’. I’ll need ta consult my books then I should be able ta tell what this thing says by morn’n.”
King Dorian stood from his seat, “Very well mystic, take the scroll and decipher its message, the rest of us will get some sleep. We’ll reconvene tomorrow, but as of now, it’s a long night and there is much to do tomorrow.”
Everyone bowed as the king returned to his royal chambers. Once the king was gone the remaining three returned to their rooms while the powerful storm weakened during the night hours.
The sun shined brightly once morning had arrived, few clouds drifted carelessly over the recently showered city of Vailstone. The kingdoms only prince and princess were in the castle courtyard, where peace and adrenaline clashed throughout the morning.
The prince was named Christian, a brown haired nineteen year old boy with vast knowledge of the political relations of Vailstone and its economical structure, which helped maintain the entire kingdoms respectable global appearance. Christian’s poorest attribute was his lack of physical strength, but his sword fighting skills were certainly improving through the strict training regimen of the grand duke. The two of them would spar against each other every morning and even though the prince was a novice swordsman and was dominated by the grand duke at every turn, he was still optimistic and willing to learn from his training with Raziel. The prince admired the grand duke and his legendary status as a great warrior. Christian tried to absorb as much knowledge from Raziel as possible, so one day he could become as great an adventurer and warrior as he and his father, the king.
On the sidelines of the courtyard sat the princess. She would always sit by and read one of her romance novels while her older brother would spar with the grand duke. Her alabaster skin was shaded with a large umbrella which loomed over her serving as protection from the suns beaming rays. Princess Alisha was seventeen, the youngest and more spoiled of the two siblings. Alisha excelled in foreign relations and was a loved national figure. The young blond sat with proper posture while she took a break from her book. She gracefully sipped from her refreshing cold ice tea which was placed on a patio table beside her and grinned as she thought about her steamy romance novel. Alisha looked ahead and watched her older brother spar with the experienced warrior in the not too far distance. The fake wooden swords clashed between Christian and Raziel, the princess watched her brother being forced backward by the grand duke’s aggressive sword fighting style as he was always manipulated into doing.
The princess chuckled at her brother’s pathetic display, “Raziel’s used to his opponent retreating. If you’re going to be a great warrior, you’ll have to become a much more offensive swordsman than that big brother.” she spouted off trying to instigate her brother.
Christian quickly glanced at his taunting younger sister on the sidelines, “Shut-up. At least I’m training to get stronger.” he defended.
The prince was shoved far backward by the force of the grand duke’s swing, “Concentrate on your battle Christian, not the distractions.” Raziel instructed.
The young prince had caught his second wind and tried a new aggressive approach toward his overly talented opponent.
Raziel grinned, “Ha, there seems to be a burning in your eyes now! That’s good.” he announced happily.
The prince’s adrenaline began flowing as his heart began to race within his chest. The royal nineteen year old would imagine that his life was actually on the line every time he would spar with the grand duke and despite never winning against him once, the young optimist was fairly confident this time around would end differently. Christian jumped back and tried darting around the grand duke, with average speed he tried dashing about looking for a vulnerable opening to jab with his wooden sword. Raziel was amused and remained in his relaxed state as the inexperienced boy fooled himself into a false victory.
Alisha sat forward with her cold tea in her hand thinking her older brother’s new approach to battling the grand duke showed promise. Christian’s instincts took over as he dashed at Raziel for a finishing blow. The grand duke smirked as he effortlessly blocked the young prince’s wooden sword. With a defensive swing the grand duke prevented Christian’s move and forced him backward. In that instant the nineteen year old stepped backward into a muddy puddle of water left over from the rain due to the following night. Christian was surprised and slipped, falling into the cold mud. Within that millisecond a wooden sword tapped gently against Christian’s throat.
“You’re dead.” Raziel said in a calm informative voice as he always did before slaying the prince in their training.
Alisha witnessed her brother’s defeat as usual, drank from her tea once again, and continued on with her romantic novel. Christian looked up at his mentor from the damp mud, Raziel extended his arm to assist the prince back onto his feet. Raziel looked at the disappointed boy and placed his hand on his back around his shoulders while the two walked over to the patio furniture where Alisha sat.
“I thought I had something that time.” Christian confessed.
“You’re learning, but you still have so much more to learn. You can’t rush experience nor skill.” Raziel coached.
“I figured I was doing better.” the prince complained to himself.
“You were, but you began paying attention to distractions around the battle and not the details of the battle, which caused you to slip and disarm yourself, resulting in your loss.” Raziel explained.
They stopped by the table and poured each other a glass of cold ice tea.
“You alright?” Alisha asked without turning her head away from her book.
Christian swallowed his tea before answering, “Yeah, I’m fine.” he replied with displeasure.
Raziel finished his glass, “Don’t worry Christian, you’ll get the hang of it eventually. I can tell you’ve got that fighting spirit deep inside you, you just need to understand how to use it effectively, that’s all.” A faint buzzing sound emitted from Raziel’s coat pocket, he reached inside and pulled out his cell phone. He had read a small text message and placed his phone back in his jacket, “Sorry Christian, but we’ll have to cut today’s lesson short.” Raziel informed.
“Something wrong?” Christian asked.
“’Is’ something wrong.” Alisha muttered lightly under her breath, quietly correcting her brother’s speech.
“Nothing’s wrong, apparently your father just needs to discuss something with me. I’m sure it’s just business as usual. Tell you what though, why don’t you practice more of those defensive moves I showed you earlier for the remainder of our time, okay?” the grand duke suggested.
“Alright.” the young prince obediently agreed.
The grand duke bowed gentlemanly before walking away from the two youthful royals. Christian waited until Raziel had entered the castle before placing his wooden sword down and leaving his sister behind to follow after him.
“What are you doing?” Alisha asked.
Christian turned and looked at his sister, “I wanna know what’s so urgent.”
“First of all, it isn’t ‘wanna’ it’s ‘want to’. Secondly, you can’t go into the castle wet and tracking mud everywhere like that. Thirdly, what makes you think there is anything ‘urgent’?” Alisha scolded.
Christian rolled his eyes while his sister reprimanded him as if his parent. He couldn’t stand her taunting him, but hated her correcting his speech most of all. “I overheard one of the butlers tell one of the maids that told one of the chefs who told one of the gardeners that told another butler who told that creepy looking chauffeur guy that told one of the soldiers about an attack on the castle last night and the soldier confirmed it, cause he said he was there. I bet ya that’s what they’re going to talk about right now too.” Christian said smugly since he explained to his sister secret information.
“So, you stalked all of those people just to find out if that little rumor was true?” Alisha pointed out.
“No! I just, happened to overhear them. That’s all.” he defended.
Alisha sighed from her brother’s immaturity and continued on reading, at which point, the muddy brown haired teenager quickly hurried inside the castle to his royal chambers to slip on some clean clothes. The energetic prince had always had a sense of adventure about him. Ever since he was a little boy, he would grow up hearing of his father’s and Raziel’s epic tales of adventure and waited for the day that he could embark on his own. Christian’s imagination ran wild as he wondered about the mysterious creature from last night and the sudden meeting that was taking place this very moment! Once he was fully dressed, he quickly walked to his father’s deliberation room, which was completely empty.
He took a few steps inside and turned his head for a full scan of the room, “Where is everybody?” he wondered aloud.
From behind the royal teenager he heard a soft sarcastic voice, “Not here obviously.”
Christian quickly turned around to see Carmon, the grand duke’s only child. Carmon was an eighteen year old brunette with a thin body build. She had a loner mindset and was a quiet person with bad people skills. The prince was always nervous around Carmon, but happy to see her. He had secretly developed a crush on her since he was fifteen, but had never acted upon his feelings.
“Carmon! What are you do’n here?” he asked.
“I saw your goofy looking speed walk and wondered what your hurry was.” she confessed.
The brown haired prince smiled while blushing in the face, “Oh, well I was training with your dad again, but he had to cut it short today cause some kind’a meeting. It seemed like it might be a big deal, ya know the castle was attacked last night, right?” he responded.
“Yeah, I know. I also know our dads are with the mystic in his chambers for some reason.” Carmon replied.
The prince’s face lit up once he heard the location of this meeting, hoping it would lead to an amazing adventure.
“Thanks!” he thanked quickly rushing by the girl standing in the door frame. He stopped a few steps after passing her by, “Hey, wait! You wanna come with me and check it out?” he invited.
Carmon just closed her eyes and pushed herself from the door frame with her leg, “Na, if it’s important I’ll find out about it when their done.” she said walking down the hallway opposite from the direction Christian was going.
Christian sped through the castles many hallways until finally reaching the royal mystic’s chambers on the farthest side of the castle. The mystic preferred using torches that hung off the sides of the wall rather than using light fixtures, which gave the prince an unsettling feeling. Despite the poorly lit hallway and feeling he was in a sort of dungeon, what actually gave Christian the creeps most of all was the tall empty suit of armor which always stood outside the mystic’s room as if it were standing guard.
The empty suit resembled a sort of evil looking goblin creature or manner of demon perhaps. The suit was obviously old, but not rusty. Unlike other armors, this one was absent any protection for the users arms instead it had thick chains that hung from the shoulders of the armor and at the base of each chain was a thick massive spiked metal ball.
The prince slowly approached the chamber of the royal mystic with the creepy armor. He hesitantly touched the armor to prove to himself that nobody was hiding within.
“Heh, you’re not so scary.” he lied.
Christian turned his back to the metallic armor and slowly cracked open the door to the royal mystic’s chambers. The voices of the boy’s father and mentor could barely be heard talking with the mystic. If he was going to make out the details of this meeting he would have to sneak inside and get closer. The young prince crouched down and crawled into the room unseen. Thankfully the royal mystic’s room was a mess and had many shelves and tables in disorder. Plenty of boxes sitting on the floor allowed for the prince to creep closer.
Christian was careful not to knock over anything, who knows what side effects would occur from spilling one of the mystic’s many potions. Old scrolls with coats of dust sat on scratched desks. Jars of strange liquids, animal parts, and types of powder were placed about the room in what seemed like no categorization at all. A rusty bird cage harbored three small birds as they fluttered around, panicking from the sight of the crawling prince.
The royal mystic stopped talking and leaned back to look at his panicking birds curiously. The prince froze realizing he had given himself away, but relaxed once the conversation started back up again. Christian kneeled behind one of the mystic’s tables surrounded by boxes and peered over to spy on his father’s mysterious meeting. King Dorian and the grand duke stood before the mystic as he stared at a scroll laid out on a small table in front of all of them. The mystic began reading the documents contents to his superiors,
“Toward the forest of darkness”
“Beyond the demon flames”
“Within the temple of ruins, the seven chosen shall enter”
“One for each blade in order to claim the armor of God”
“My King, this ancient scroll must be refer’n to tha legendary sacred arm’a of Kamisama!” the mystic declared.
Raziel was immediately suspicious of the scroll’s message, “Now hold on just a minute!” he responded trying to calm down the mystic’s excitement, “It seems a little TOO convenient to me that a headless monster comes banging at the front door that just so happens to be carrying a scroll that leads to the location of a legendary armor that may or may not exist. This has got to be some sort of set up. If not, then why wouldn’t the coachman have just gone and gotten the armor for itself?”
King Dorian’s face revealed concern as he sat down in a chair at the mystic’s table and crossed his arms. He tilted his head back while staring at the dark ceiling. The mystic and grand duke stood quietly while the king decided what to make of this new development.
Christian was thrilled that there may actually be an adventure in the realm of possibility, which a legendary armor was the main objective. The adventure hungry teenager could feel the adrenaline surging through his body as he imagined the idea of going on his first adventure. He could even feel it through the hair follicles on his head. The prince quickly became aware that the hair on his head was actually moving on his own, which sparked him as very strange. He reached up to feel on the top of his head to discover why. His eyes widened from shock as his hand felt the hairy legs of a tarantula crawling upon his head.
The young prince jumped up and startled everyone in the room. The royal mystic grabbed his scepter for protection while the grand duke buckled down preparing to fight. The three shared a look of disappointment as they witnessed the prince running back and forth, screaming, and flailing his arms about trying to remove the huge spider upon his head.
“WWWHHAAAAAAA!!!!!!! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!” he whined frantically.
The royal mystic walked over and plucked the tarantula from the prince’s hair and placed it back its cage where it belonged.
Christian took a huge sigh of relief, “Christian what are you doing here?” the king asked.
“Raziel left my sparring session early today and I figured somethin’ pretty important was go’n on, especially since we were attacked last night. I’m sorry I sneaked in on you guys, but a legendary armor!? I mean how cool is that?! Can I come too?” he asked presumptuously.
“Whoa, now! Slow down here, nobody said we’re going after any armor just yet.” the king yielded.
“Huh? Why not?” Christian wondered.
Christian looked at Raziel with extreme confusion while the king pulled off his crown while sitting back in his seat again, “On one hand we have a to retrieve a legendary armor that may or may not exist, on the other hand it could all be an elaborate hoax set up as a trap by some very wicked people who would love nothing more than to see our kingdom collapse.” Dorian calmly explained.
The royal mystic walked away from the tarantula cage and back over to the scroll. He gazed at the document for a moment, then looked at his king, “If tha arm’a does exist, n’ falls into tha wrong hands yur highness, tha outcome will be severe.” he warned with reason.
Christian looked at his father with anticipation as he contemplated the pros and cons of this sudden discovery.
Dorian placed the crown back on his head, “The mystic makes a good point. If it’s a trick then we’ll be prepared and if it’s authentic then we’ll be that much better off.”
Christian stared at his father, “So we’re go’n for it?” he asked wanting to clarify.
The king smiled and nodded his head.
Christian’s heart began racing due to his overwhelming excitement, “YES! Finally, an adventure, and with a super cool treasure! This is so awesome I can’t wait!” the young prince jumped about. “When can we go?”
“WE?! Oh no young prince, this trip is better left up to the big boys.” Raziel chimed in.
“Ya, it’s too dangerous fur a kid like yurself.” the royal mystic added trying to calm down the young boy’s excitement.
Christian’s adrenaline was pumping and looked to his father, who’s decision was ultimately final. The prince had seen the grand duke and royal mystic preferred he not attend, so he rushed over to his father and grabbed his hand resting on the armrest of his seat.
“Dad, please! I’m so ready! I’ve been practicing and getting better with Raziel! Honest I have! And I won’t get in tha way and I’ll listen, I promise! Please can I go! Can I come too!?” Christian frantically pleaded for his father’s approval to allow him to go on his very first adventure.
King Dorian watched his son desperately attempt to convince him to let him go. The grand duke and royal mystic stood behind Christian shaking their heads and waving their arms to get the king’s attention of their disapproval of the prince accompanying them. The king sat before everyone and took note of their suggestions, but it was the subtle tear in Christian’s eye that ultimately convinced the king of how much this meant to his son.
“You know, you remind me so much of a younger version of myself. Ready and willing for whatever to world has to offer.” Dorian stated towards his boy.
“Huh?” Christian, Raziel, and the royal mystic asked simultaneously, wondering what the king’s reply indicated.
“Make me proud son.” Dorian said, granting his son’s dream come true.
The prince leapt into his father for a massive hug, catching the king off guard happily and nearly knocking him and the chair he was seated in to the floor. The grand duke and royal mystic instantly dropped their heads and arms knowing full well they would end up babysitting the prince the entire adventure.
“I will dad! I promise.”
The king and prince finished hugging. The prince stepped back with the king’s hand on the side of his arm and a loving smile on his face. “I suppose we should tell your mother about the exciting news, huh?” he stated with a tone of sarcasm only because he knew she would not take the thought of her son going into the world and facing dangers unknown well.
Dorian stood and began walking out of the royal mystic’s chambers with his son, but stopped beside the grand duke for a moment. “I have your word that you’ll keep him safe no matter what, right old friend?”
“Of course, your majesty.” the grand duke answered with respect and without hesitation.
“Excellent. Royal mystic, your duties for the remainder of the evening is to decrypt as much as you can of that scroll. And find out what this “seven chosen” refers to. Raziel prepare what men and equipment you’ll require for this quest. I want to make a move on this thing a quickly as possible. I’ll reevaluate my negotiations with the anthropomorphs for tomorrow before they arrive.”
“You’re seriously going to try merging our civilizations with those animals?” Raziel questioned. “Think of the consequences if you do such a thing.”
“I’m thinking more of the consequences if I don’t. They may be animal people Raziel, but they’re still people. Just with a different anatomy and skin.” Dorian defended.
Raziel nodded his head in agreement and acknowledgment of the king’s statement.
The king and prince left the royal mystic’s chambers, “Have I told you about the time I went off on an adventure of my own and returned king?” he asked his son rhetorically.
“Yes! That one’s my favorite.” the prince answered excitedly while still indicating his desire to hear the tale once again.
The grand duke sighed and began making his way to the door to start following through with the king’s orders.
“Sumthin’ wrong?” the mystic questioned, “Ya upset cause ya don’t like animal people r’ cause ya don’t know how tha story’s gonna play out this time round?”
Raziel stopped at the door, “I just have my suspicions.”
“Ya, but bout which of tha two?” the mystic cackled in his high weakly voice.
The grand duke continued on his way and left the royal mystic to himself and his magic. He searched through his shelves and cabinets for mysterious powders, bone shards, animal parts, and flammable oils. The mystic placed the ancient scroll off to the side and snapped his fingers to light a flame underneath a huge cast iron bowl. He poured oils into the bowl before spitting a small flame into the oils causing a huge burst of blue and purple fire. The magic user tossed old power into the fire in a sweeping motion, creating sparkling fragments of material to appear and fly out of the fire. A smoke began flowing out of the bowl and filling the room. Bits and fragments of bone were carefully dropped into the pot. The royal mystic began waving his old wrinkly hands around the fire and muttering incantations under his breath. The ancient’s beady red eyes began to widen as the magic began to reveal unto him the first of seven chosen.
