Prologue
“The Serin race is a gorgeous, majestic one. A strong chimera species with few, if any that can match its might. They tower over other bipeds, such as Taurnomin and the nearly extinct humans, but still, there is so much more to them. The wings that stretch free from their backs can span as much as 20 feet across at full maturity, and their flight speed surpasses that of dragons. They are just as capable in water, having naturally webbed toes and on very rare occasions, webbed fingers as well. Their hunting prowess is further assisted by many cat-like features, including their pointed ears, sharpened nails, and long tails, the latter of which is often used by young Serin to cling to trees and balance while running at high speeds.
It has been found as well that these amazing beings are capable of harnessing a type of sorcery that flows naturally through their bodies. It is with this power that they have been able to hunt and overpower beasts like Cerberus and another warrior race, the Recotiman. The magic is destructive, yet controllable with the right discipline; a type of discipline that no other beast but the Serin could possibly have.
Truly, the Serin are a magnificent race, destined and expected to conquer and protect any territory they claim.
Only one flaw can be found in this species of purebred warriors: a defect in their ranks that could potentially destroy everything that the Serin have worked so hard to create:
And that defect is: the Dragon Scar”
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That was the first page of a book written a couple decades ago by a Taurnomin scholar about the Dragon Scar. His name isn’t important, mostly because he’s dead now. He was killed in a recent war along with hundreds more of his kind when a flopack of Serin invaded their land. Now my home village is in his neighborhood. His books are really good; I wish they hadn’t killed him.
My name is Odyssia, and I was born and raised in a village in Europe with my very small clan. Most people would say that they lived with their family, but my father said “family” is such a “lowly human” term, and that I should keep practicing my Serinspeak. He also said “father” is too human, also, but I kind of think his ego was growing bigger than his wingspan.
I guess none of that stuff is really important though; you probably want to know more about the Dragon Scar. I must say, you’re in luck; I happen to be kind of an expert on it. Partly because I still have that Taurnomin’s book, but so do a lot of people, so maybe that doesn’t count. Truthfully, all Serin have heard about the Dragon Scar; we learn about it in school while we’re learning how to swordfight and use our magic. It’s a creepy mark that supposedly appears on a Serin’s body when they’re born. I asked my father once why we never saw anyone with a Dragon Scar. I still have the scar on my cheek from where his claws hit me.
“Bite your tongue, child!” he screeched at me in Serinspeak as I relaxed my red-feathered wings from their ruffled up state. “You should be grateful you’ve had no contact with any of those vermin!”
I had decided not to ask him if he had a Dragon Scar, but I did tell him that the Taurnomin talked a lot about it in his book. He huffed at that, saying that Taurnomin were nothing but bullheaded humans, and that any book written by them was probably a poor attempt at appearing intelligent. My father isn’t very nice; he hadn’t even looked at the cover yet.
That’s why I didn’t tell him when I found the most important Serin I’d ever meet hiding like a coward inside the library.
