Cycle of Fire: The Fire Series, #3

By C.B. Vaughn

Twenty years after the defeat of the wrathful union, Zannondale has settled into a streak of peace and prosperity. Many new races have come out of hiding, emboldened by the changing times and restoration of the land. In the midst of this growth and prosperity ghosts of the past arise, seeking to disrupt the established peace as retribution for past transgressions. Dorian and his friends race to find the culprit before the land is terrorized by the elusive terrorist.  

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blackberry Publishing
• Release date: May 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393547525

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C.B. Vaughn

Cycle of Fire

The Fire Series: Book 3

First published by Blackberry Publishing Group 2020

Copyright © 2020 by C.B. Vaughn

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

C.B. Vaughn asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

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Contents

1. Chapter 1: A Bitter Frost

2. Chapter 2: A Call to Action

3. Chapter 3: A Simple Request

4. Chapter 4: Rejuvenation

5. Chapter 5: Mixed Emotions

6. Chapter 6: The Tomb of Ice and Snow

7. Chapter 7: The Angelic Forest

8. Chapter 8: Sylvanius

9. Chapter 9: Fairy Dust, Taboos, and Rumors

10. Chapter 10: The Morning After

11. Chapter 11: Parting Ways

12. Chapter 12: A Familiar Face

13. Chapter 13: Return to Dragon Claw

14. Chapter 14: Murphy’s Law

15. Chapter 15: High Tension

16. Chapter 16: Mechanical Monstrosity

17. Chapter 17: Ozymandias

18. Chapter 18: Flee

19. Chapter 19: Anguish

20. Chapter 20: Annabelle

21. Chapter 21: Best Laid Plans

22. Chapter 22: Incipio

23. Chapter 23: A Battle Fought on Five Fronts

24. Chapter 24: Air Raid

25. Chapter 25: Skirmish

26. Chapter 26: Pandemonium

27. Chapter 27: The Guardians

28. Chapter 28: Obitus

29. Chapter 29: Unity

About the Author

Also by C.B. Vaughn

1

Chapter 1: A Bitter Frost

Twenty years after Zathandalous’ attempt to eradicate the human race, the continent of Zannondale had fallen into a period of perceived peace. The Droragorian, thought to be a long-forgotten memory, emerged from their solitary hideouts, embedding themselves into society once again. As a result of the Droragorians newfound confidence, other races of creatures thought to be nothing more than myths and legends, emerged from their hidden corners of the world. With the reemergence of these new cultures, magic soon became more commonplace than ever before, integrating into everyday life, construction, and even the battlefield. Many humans accepted the Droragorian and the newly emergent races as a part of the world. However, a considerable sect of human society refused to accept their new brethren and sisters. After Zathandalous’ fall, the continent experienced two decades of racial intolerance and vicious debate regarding the integration of newly emerging civilizations.

The shaky relationship between humans, Droragorian, and the emerging races created societal tensions that simmered beneath the surface. One city known to support the integration of the various races was the moderately sized city of Hinnoc. Known as the city of snow, the peaceful metropolis, located in the northern region of Zannondale, sat nestled atop the snow-covered mountains. A steady tempest of white blanketed the terrain as a bitter winter wailed throughout the frozen region. The ghostly howl of the vicious winds chilled the city’s nightly patrol to their bones. Two sentries kept watch atop the front gate while the city’s inhabitants slept peacefully within the warmth and safety of their homes. The two sentries trembled from the cold, both struggling to brave the whipping storm. The cold burned their faces and their hands had numbed.

This is insane. I–I can’t believe we pulled the night shift, one of the sentries stuttered.

S–shut up, you idiot, the other stuttered back, her teeth so cold they would shatter if clenched too hard. This was your fault for taking that stupid bet at the pub. If you would have kept your mouth shut we would be back at home right now, warm in our beds, she scorned.

I’m sorry, Lula, but how the hell was I supposed to know that he was a master in combat. I thought I could take him easily.

You’re such an idiot, Macon! Thanks to your stupidity and quick temper I’m out here freezing my ass off in this storm. I didn’t even know cold like this could exist.

Well, someone has to keep watch over the city.

What…from giant snow bears? Perhaps a brisk penguin that lost his way? Lula said back, her cold lips creasing sarcastically.

Stop complaining and do your job, Macon replied, rubbing his arms for warmth.

Lula scoffed as a frigid breath of air escaped her, rolling her eyes away from her displeased partner. She grunted in frustration and turned her gaze into the distance. Lula squinted, struggling to see through the dense blizzard. The faint outline of a figure moving in the distance caught her eye. She fixed her gaze in the direction of the movement, cocking her head. The figure stopped moving, standing as still as a statue, looming in the distance. Lula wiped the snow from her eyes and refocused toward the figure. The shadowy mass had disappeared into the blinding storm. Lula felt a sharp pulse of fear rush through her, an uneasiness, one any good watch person would learn to heed. Macon turned toward her blowing into the narrow chasm of his clasped hands. Lula’s brow had dimmed as her eyes searched the blizzard.

Are your eyes starting to hurt. If you want you could end the shift early and bring in the new guy. We’ve yet to break him in, Macon offered.

N…No. I’m fine. I just thought I saw something.

What was it?

I don’t know. I couldn’t see it clearly through the storm, but I thought I saw someone standing in the snow. I wiped my eyes and then it was gone.

It’s probably your mind playing tricks on you. These storms tend to do that from time to time. If it makes you feel any better I thought I saw a ghost earlier.

Lula turned toward Macon with a skeptical stare.

I’m serious! I saw something out there earlier and it vanished. As a matter of fact, it was quite similar to what you just told me. I thought I was just seeing things. It must be the storm. Even if it were something it was probably just an animal or one of those new monsters people keep talking about, Macon replied.

They aren’t monsters, Macon. They’re people just like you and me, Lula defended.

Look, all I know is that ever since the whole incident with that evil dragon lord, many creatures have come out of hiding. I’ll admit, the Droragorian and some of the fairies I’ve seen look human, but some of the new creatures I’ve seen look like monsters. People with horns, wings…hell…I even saw a girl with cat ears and a tail once, Macon argued.

I suppose the resurgence of the Droragorian people encouraged many other creatures to come out of hiding. You think what we saw could be one of them? Lula asked.

I don’t know. Like I said, maybe our minds were just playing tricks on–

A warm slap of liquid against Lula’s face startled her from the conversation. Macon’s words had ceased and a mist of blood coated Lula’s face. She wiped her eyes. A cold confusion gripped her as she examined her crimson hands. Her wide eyes realized first, then came the sound. Lula expelled a piercing scream as Macon’s headless body slumped to the ground next to her. She dropped to the ground shuffling away on her wrists, watching Macon’s dark pool of blood leech toward her feet. His severed neck was slightly charred and a faint electrical current crackled near his gaping wound. Lula peered into the white wilderness again. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow, each bearing a trick of the eye. She felt a presence behind her and turned. Her eyes met the glare of a lost one, a man pushed to great lows of evil. Her eyes widened as his powerful hand grabbed her by the throat. He pulled Lula onto her knees, staring into her eyes. She struggled to breathe, frantically grasping at the vice grip around her throat. He was no ordinary man. Rage drove him.

Yes…that’s it. That’s what I like to see, the intruder whispered. Do you feel it…the hopelessness? That’s what my people felt on that day. We were so close to reviving what was wrongfully stolen from us. But today I have been given another chance, he said from beneath his shadowy black hood.

P–please. I don’t deserve this! Lula cried.

Funny, I felt the same way when my race was slaughtered by your kind. Where was your mercy then? The Droragorians did not deserve their death sentence.

I–I wasn’t there. It was a long time ago. Things have changed now, Lula said coughing.

No! Nothing has changed. The Droragorian have come out of hiding, and despite the lessons of the past, the humans speak of common prejudice. I’ve heard many humans say the Droragorian are monsters, less than human, racially unequal, and expendable. Even though your lives were saved by one of my kind you still damn them.

The man lifted Lula off her knees and into the air, taking delight in her gradual suffocation, evident by her weakening attempts to escape. I…I can’t breathe. Please… Lula cried.

The man pulled back his hood. A faint scar remained on his face from his most fateful of encounters, three gashes that once bled with defeat. I still see it, Orthenius began. The fear from the humans is still as ripe today as it was all those years ago. You humans are a cowardly lot. I know that you will not accept the Droragorian, or any of the creatures that have revealed themselves, despite the heroic actions of a few. Humans are as predictable as death itself. You will destroy any and everything that you deem a threat to your survival. To you, that threat is any kind that isn’t yours.

No…that’s not true, Lula whispered. My best friend is a Droragorian…she lives in Dragon Claw.

Oh…well hold on a moment, Orthenius replied, his eyes and tone rife with sarcasm. You have one Droragorian friend. That must make you a saint, huh? You’ve done your part, right? Given your charity to those beneath you whom you deem lower, right?

No…that’s not what I meant…she’s my friend…! Lula replied, this time with more conviction.

Save it. I gave you people a chance and you murdered us. I cannot allow that to happen ever again, Orthenius proclaimed. He pressed his hand against Lula’s chest and looked up at her shimmering eyes. They were honest…and he knew it, yet he didn’t care. He was driven by rage, a place where logic may never banish the folly of the foolish.

P…please…no, Lula whispered.

My people begged too. Their cries went unheard, he replied.

Not…any…more, Lula whispered, her voice so strained it could vanish in a mere moment.

Orthenius paused and his gaze slid toward the snow. The rage faltered. It was only for a moment, but something had reached him. It was reason. But even reason is a slave to rage in dire times of the mind. As quickly as it had come, the moment was gone. His eyes slid from the pure white snow to the crimson patch of Macon’s blood, then back toward Lula with a renewed wrath that would be her undoing. Liar… he whispered, knowing full well the paradox in his response.

Orthenius propelled a piercing bolt of lightning through Lula’s chest and hurled her into the snow below. Lula shrieked as she fell. A racing current of electricity swirled around his hand, soon fizzling out with a snapping pop. He rested his hands behind his back as he walked toward the edge of the lookout, panning across the sleeping city with cold malice.

Ah, the city of Hinnoc. One of the shining beacons of the human race.

He closed his eyes, concentrating his energy, inhaling a breath of bitter frost to calm his racing mind. A powerful surge of electricity welled up deep within and wrapped around his body like a crackling serpent. Bolts of electricity jolted toward a nearby tower, destroying the roof with a single explosive strike. Orthenius leaped down from the high wall and concealed himself in a nearby alleyway. The debris from the tower crashed into the roof of a small church below it. The thunderous noise awakened many sleeping townsfolk in the vicinity, sending them flooding into the street with whispers in tow.

What the hell was that? An old woman yelled, stroking her grey feline.

I don’t know. There’s rubble all over the place. I think the chapel tower collapsed, a young man replied.

The sound of crackling resonated nearby, alerting the growing crowd. The curious inhabitants searched their surroundings for the source of the noise. Where is that sound coming from? A gentleman from the crowd asked.

One of the city dwellers noticed a faint light flickering in the nearby alley. The people fell silent and their eyes all settled toward the young man in the front. It was a silent appointment, one the man realized as he turned to face the crowd of worried faces. I’ll go check it out, the young man murmured. He crept toward the shadowy crevice in between the buildings, towards the sound of crackling. Brief lightning flashes created moments of illumination as the civilian approached the alleyway entrance. He peered into the void, squinting his eyes. The flashes of light stopped and a wall of darkness greeted the curious investigator.

What do you see? A fellow city dweller asked.

Nothing. I don’t see anything. It’s just an empty alleyway.

The young man heard growling resonating from within the darkness and backed away. Two glowing blue eyes appeared within the black, stopping the young man in his tracks. It’s a monster, the man said, stumbling away. Orthenius transformed into a monstrous dragon, destroying the alleyway concealing him as his body grew. The young man ran screaming toward the group of city dwellers gathered in the street. Run! Run!

Orthenius’ body reduced the surrounding buildings to rubble as he emerged from the darkness of the alley. He stomped into the center of the street expelling a dominant roar that carried for miles. The pedestrians were so stunned they stood frozen before scattering into the streets. Orthenius propelled streaking beams of electrical energy toward nearby shops and homes as the terrified citizens fled the charring attacks. Orthenius spotted a group of fleeing citizens and expelled a crackling bolt of lightning toward the innocent escapees. The powerful attack hurled the citizens into the air, scattering their lifeless bodies into the streets. Orthenius extended his wings and catapulted himself into the sky. Many of the city’s people ran toward the castle of Hinnoc to take refuge within its thick walls of protection.

Orthenius leveled out above the city and continued to propel devastating bolts of lightning that decimated entire areas of the city. The snowy metropolis had quickly descended into a state of chaos as people ran through the streets screaming and trampling each other. Orthenius soared toward the castle of Hinnoc, decimating the east tower with a piercing burst of lightning. The castle trembled as the tower collapsed into the living quarters below. Orthenius roared and circled around for another pass. The storm began to intensify and an eerie high-pitched howl whistled through the mountain air. With every scorching attack, the city fell further into chaos and ruin. At the castle of Hinnoc the city’s leader, Lord Curien, watched atop his balcony. He saw the fires burning in the distance, heard the shrieking of his citizens in the streets.

Sir, we are under attack! It’s a dragon, sir! one of the castle guards informed.

I can see that. I find apocalyptic explosions hard to miss. We must focus all of our forces on that dragon. We have to get him out of the air. Ready the cannons and ground the bastard, Curien ordered.

The guard nodded and raced to inform the city’s military of the orders. Curien’s fingers curled around the balcony ledge with gritted teeth, watching Orthenius fly overhead and land in the street. Orthenius looked down at the terrified stampede, lifting his giant foot. He stomped his clawed appendage against the snowy streets, crushing a group of fleeing pedestrians. One of the civilian’s legs had been crushed by the powerful stomp. The wounded man struggled to crawl away as his leg dangled by a sliver of flesh.

Orthenius watched the frantic citizen pull himself across the snow-covered street, his bloody nub leaving a trail of crimson behind him. Orthenius gently pressed his foot against the crawling man and tapped his back with one of his talons, taunting his pained prey. Please…don’t kill me! the man cried.

Orthenius didn’t respond and impaled the man through the back. The man exhaled as Orthenius’ sharp claw sank into his flesh and his life slipped away. Orthenius swung his tail into the crowd, sending throngs of people scattering into the air. Curien watched in horror as the bodies of his city’s citizens crashed into distant buildings. Orthenius began grabbing civilians with his claws and hurling them across the city, testing how far they could fly. His rage was ruthless.

This is unthinkable! Curien cried. He looked toward the front gates of the castle where his forces gathered for an attack. Damn it, stop him! Stop him now while he is on the ground! Curien screamed.

Orthenius heard Curien’s voice as he cocked his arm, ready to launch a terrified young man through the air. Orthenius set his sights on Curien, lowering his arm. His fierce blue eyes terrified Curien. The king felt the coldest chill he ever had, even amidst the bone-shattering frost of the northern wilds. Orthenius calmly tossed the man in his claws over his shoulder and began to trot toward the castle. The angry dragon maintained eye contact with Curien as he approached, gaining speed with each cycle of his powerful stride.

Stop him! Stop him, now! Curien screamed.

Take him down! The military general ordered, signaling a barrage of magically charged cannons and arrows. The hail of arrows ricocheted upon contact with Orthenius’ resilient scales. The crafty dragon weaved between the humming beams of magical energy, evading each with a smile as he continued his charge toward the castle.

Light him up! the General yelled.

The archers lit fire to their arrows as a second squad of novice sorcerers and mages stepped to the front lines. The falling arrows of fire embedded themselves into the ground as Orthenius weaved toward the castle, missing their target by inches. The sorcerers released wisping spells of elemental magic toward the encroaching dragon while the mages supported from behind with book bound spells. Orthenius countered their magical energies with periodic bolts of lighting, successfully negating their wizardry. He chuckled, still maintaining eye contact with Curien above.

My lord…he’s going to kill me… the scared king whispered. Damn it, stop him, now! Curien ordered, growing more fearful with each advance of the furious dragon.

Charge him now! the General beckoned.

A wall of warriors rushed forward to confront Orthenius as he neared the castle gates. Orthenius opened his mouth and propelled a devastating bolt of arcing lightning that jumped from soldier to soldier until they had been reduced to ash. The raging dragon charged through the wall of ash and proceeded toward the castle, a swirl of the dead and snow kicking into the air around the beast. Curien stood in disbelief above, stunned from the devastating attack. Orthenius took an exaggerated step, braced his legs, and leaped into the air toward the balcony, flapping his wings to aid in his ascent. Orthenius crashed through the balcony, snagging Curien in his powerful claws in the process. Curien beat against the dragon’s thick hide, screaming whatever expletive came to mind. Orthenius pinched Curien’s face with his claws and turned his head, forcing him to watch the city burn in the distance. A brief break in the swirling storm befell the city, revealing the destroyed metropolis of flames in the distance.

Look at your beloved city now. It looks better this way, don’t you think? The smell of cinder and burning flesh. The feelings of despair and hopelessness.

No…no…this is…cruel. How could you do this? the king murmured.

I asked the very same question, once. And to that, I give my answer. Orthenius’ wyvern head leaned closer to the quivering king. His snout expelled a huff of hot air. This is how you made me feel, Orthenius replied.

Curien’s saddened eyes panned across the ruined city. Why? We have no qualms with the Droragorian, Curien pleaded.

No qualms, you say? You and your kind are well versed in deception, are you not? You welcome us with open arms, only to betray us at every turn. You will never accept our kind. You didn’t then and you won’t now.

That’s not true, Curien lashed back, his eyes filling with conviction. We were saved by your kind twenty years ago. I’m willing to bet that you were a part of the group of rogue Droragorian that tried to kill us all. But that’s over now. It’s in the past. Ever since then, the Droragorian have emerged from their hiding. Many other races, as well. We mean no harm. We can move past this and learn to live together. Please, just give us a chance, Curien pleaded.

The last time we trusted humans our entire race was reduced to a myth.

It’s different now! We can learn from the mistakes of the past. We will learn to accept you. Please just give us a chance. You have to see the irony in your words. Please…just give us a chance…

Orthenius hesitated again and his glance fell away. It had come back…his reason. The image of his mother’s smiling face flashed through his mind and just as quickly his reason had come…it had gone. A sudden swell of hatred consumed him again and his eyes slid back toward the king, filled with malice. No, Orthenius whispered.

Orthenius tightened his grip. Curien screamed as Orthenius bent his bones. The furious dragon flexed his fist and shattered Curien’s body into a crumpled shell. Curien moaned and went limp. Orthenius dangled Curien’s broken body over the ruined balcony and released him. He watched Curien’s limp body fall to the snowy ground below. The storm had subsided and the city fell quieter than it ever had. The snow-covered streets lay stained in a hue of red. Orthenius raised his head and released a guttural roar that shook the entire castle.

Maya awoke from her horrific dream screaming. She clutched her chest, panting heavily, drenched in a fresh layer of fearful sweat. She had become familiar with the crippling sensations of dizziness and fear waking her in the wee hours. Dastan was jolted awake by the sound of her scream. Out of instinct, he formed a crystal-studded shield against his forearm, shielding Maya from whatever harm would come her way. His eyes darted around the room in search of intruders. He soon realized that the room was empty and that Maya was trembling. He smiled as the crystals dissolved back into his skin and wrapped his arm around his frightened heart. You okay? Dastan asked. Maya continued to pant as he pulled her closer. Bad dreams?

Maya nodded.

A vision? he asked.

Maya stared into Dastan’s eyes as if she were savoring every second before replying. It’s starting again. I think Orthenius has… she replied, pausing.

Why now? It’s been twenty years?

I don’t know.

Maya rested her head against Dastan’s chest and closed her eyes. He wrapped both arms around her, gently stroking her hair to calm her rattled nerves. What did you see? Dastan asked.

Something terrible has happened.

Tell me, he whispered.

Maya recounted her nightmarish vision to Dastan, knowing full well that the worst had already come to pass.

2

Chapter 2: A Call to Action

Three days later, rumors of Hinnoc’s destruction had spread across the continent. City leaders struggled to quell their frightened citizens. Masses of curious onlookers and sects of humans protesting the integration of other races flooded the streets in the wake of the incident. The newly established Ariculon City served as a refuge for the survivors of Mar. The city had become the new central hub of technology and military might on the continent of Zannondale. The city earned its name when the survivors stumbled upon a new element that the inhabitants coined Ariculon. The relocated citizens of Mar rebuilt their homes and did their best to bury the tragic remnants of their past within the walls of their newly formed haven. After the death of Mar’s previous leaders, Maxim, and the appointed council members, the people clamored for capable leaders to guide the city.

The survivors wasted no time in appointing Maxim’s former aid, Aulrin, to the position. Despite the people’s pleas, Aulrin respectfully declined, stating that he did not feel qualified to please the people. He vouched that the highly decorated, General Gains, would be better suited for the role of leader. The people obliged and appointed Gains as the new leader of Ariculon. Soon after, the people appointed new council members to advise Gains and aid in the ruling of the newly established capital. Through drive and ingenuity, the Mar survivors banded together with the Droragorian to rebuild their civilization. In doing so, many Droragorian volunteers formed bonds with the survivors. They shared stories, cultures, and soon realized that they were not so different. Some humans were reluctant to accept help from the Droragorian, but with staunch encouragement and support from Gains and Julius, the Droragorian were welcomed into the city.

The act of humans and Droragorian people working together to rebuild the future ultimately led to a newfound confidence among the two races. The Droragorian rejoiced in their reemergence from their cavernous solitude. Their revival spurred other, long-hidden races, from their hideaways in the forests, caves, and desolate hills. With the emergence of each new race, more people that were eager to aid in the construction surfaced. As race relations between the Droragorian and the humans stoked the fire for racial peace, the other races soon formed bonds of their own, believing the construction to be the perfect endeavor to reintroduce themselves into modern society. Despite the swelling optimism of the progressive city, twenty years after the fall of Zathandalous, many humans still harbored hatred for the destruction caused by his union of fire. Despite mixed sentiments, Ariculon City had become a beacon for tolerance and peace for all the creatures of Zannondale.

Throughout the previous ten years, Ariculon City gradually adopted the technological and scientific prowess of Mar’s former glory. The city’s greatest minds were responsible for the creation of new technologies that vastly improved the military capabilities of the city. Many humans demanded that the city possess powerful defenses capable of quelling any enemy attack to ensure that a disaster like Mar could never happen again. Gains agreed and established an aeronautics division within Ariculon’s forces. Gains commissioned the surviving members of Mar’s greatest minds to build a small fleet of skyships inspired by the original design utilized in the fallen kingdom.

Gains, with the help of the people, appointed new leaders for the city’s infantry and the newly formed division. Additionally, Gains requested the development of an official naval force that could protect the city from the nearby sea, one that would rival Mar’s might. A middle-aged gentleman named Cyrus Cain was appointed as the primary general for the aeronautics division of the Ariculon forces. Azura Delacroix, his second in command and protégé, provided additional support. The newly appointed leader of the infantry division, Hilde Sauvage, quickly gained respect among her troops with her commanding presence and demanding expectations. She was a familiar face, yet her troops knew not to be fooled by her cheery smile and shaggy-haired appearance. She knew how to have fun, but suffered no fools when she was crossed. Lastly, one of General Gains most trusted soldiers, Maximillian Belmont, was appointed the leader of the new naval division. In the wake of Orthenius’ attack on Hinnok Gains called for a meeting with the military division leaders and the council.

Upon receiving the summons, General Cain readied himself for the meeting and made his way to the throne room to join the others. His aide, Azura, followed closely behind, keeping up with his quick pace. Cain was imposing in stature and walked with a distinct strut of confidence, up tall, and intimidating. His short charcoal hair had been groomed neatly. Two faint grey highlights stained his hair near each of his ears. A goatee covered his chin and the skin just beneath his nose. His pearl armor gleamed in the light as he passed the hallway windows. His aide Azura was considered by many within the city as a daughter to him. She was slightly taller than the average woman and walked upright as he did as if she were raised by royalty. She hailed from a mixed heritage of races, a mystery to some in her appearance. Her long dark hair had been tied into a short bun, restrained atop her upward tilted head, bundled like a tightly wound knot. The maids would often say her style of hair exuded an air of class and sophistication, but enough pomposity to shame an unbroken mare. A master-crafted cutlass rested on the left side of her belt, swaying as she walked. The detailed image of a butterfly had been engraved on the hilt.

Cain was once a member of the Mar military and served under General Gains. In the chaos of Zathandalous’ attack, Azura’s parents were killed. Cain rescued her as they both escaped from the sinking city. The General took a liking to the young woman and adopted her. As she grew, Cain saw the potential within her to become a fighter. He encouraged her to train her body and mind to become stronger. As the years passed Cain found himself a part of the newly established Ariculon military. When Gains was appointed the new leader of the city Cain was asked to take over Gains’ former military duties. However, following the inception of the aeronautics division, Cain’s duties shifted and Hilde was soon appointed the new infantry general. Cain knew combat, it was his life.

Cain and Azura neared the throne room. Gossiping voices lingered in the air, bouncing secrets and wild theories through the castle halls. Azura trailed behind, speeding up to match Cain’s stride again. Cain looked toward his young protégé with a subtle glance of disapproval, a sentiment solidified with a slight shake of his head. Why aren’t you wearing your armor? Cain questioned

I didn’t think it would be necessary, father.

Sir. Call me sir when we are on duty, and it is always best to be prepared, Cain corrected, bearing a slight undertone of displeasure.

I’m sorry, sir, but I really don’t think it is necessary at the moment. It’s just a meeting.

It wasn’t necessary the day Mar was attacked and now it’s at the bottom of the damn ocean. The next time we are summoned and you fail to wear your gear I will train you until your bones crack. Is that clear?

Yes, sir, Azura replied.

Azura’s pace slowed, dropping back a bit. She seemed phased by Cain’s words. Cain stared straight ahead, intense, and focused on accomplishing his mission. He and Azura rounded the corridor and approached the throne room doors at the end of the hallway. Two guards, Reginald and Colin, stood watch outside. Colin saw Cain coming. He recognized the intimidating expression on the grumpy General’s face. It was a familiar one, one the General seldom ever dropped. Colin leaned toward his fellow guard. Uh oh. He looks pissed today, he said.

Reginald traded gazes with Cain. The General’s eyes beamed with ferocity and a focus reserved for the most stubborn of hunters.

Good day, sir, Reginald greeted, Gains is expecting you. The others are inside, but we are still awaiting General Sauvage’s arrival.

She’s probably still drunk in a pub somewhere, Cain replied and entered.

Colin examined Azura with a faint smile. Azura could feel his eyes combing her body. She scowled and grasped the man’s testicles. Colin yelped as she squeezed, glaring into his eyes. I’m aware of my natural beauty, you brutish bastard. But if I ever catch you sizing me up like a common animal again I will remove your testicles and serve them to the dogs. Is that clear? Azura calmly threatened.

Yes, ma’am, he whispered.

I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that, Azura replied, tightening her grasp

Yes, ma’am! he squealed louder.

Azura released her grasp and entered the throne room. Colin cupped his privates, panting. He turned his head to watch Azura enter the room. Reginald slapped him in the back of the head, rolling his eyes.

What? Colin questioned.

Stop staring, you idiot. Did you already forget what just happened? Next time she might do the same to me…and I just got married. If she sees you she is liable to eliminate both of our chances of having little ones.

Yeah…if she sees me. She did say if. Besides, I was looking at that shirt and those shoes. Poor girl wouldn’t know fashion if it hit her in the aft deck, Colin retorted.

Azura caught wind of the shirt and shoes crack and turned, scowling at the two guards.

Oh shit… Colin replied and pulled the doors closed.

Morons… Azura murmured as she joined Generals Cain and Belmont in the center of the room. The council sat atop an elevated platform, onyx in hue. Seven decorative chairs lined their table. The center chair, reserved for Gains, appeared much more extravagant. It’s white, black, and gold palette accentuated the charcoal platform. The emblem of a phoenix lay carved into the smooth floor where Cain and Azura stood, wings stretched and ready for flight. The newly appointed council consisted of seven total members, six of those whose purpose was to provide Gains with support, expertise, advice, and to serve as aggregates for the people of Ariculon.

The first member, Nina Shikoba, hailed from a small settlement in the Western region of Zannondale. Her lineage was said to originate from a native race of people that once lived side by side with the Droragorian in peace. They were masters of the land and in their time and had learned to tame the very nature around them. They respected the land and all of Zannondale’s creatures. Nina was of average height and her skin was a slightly darker hue than most. Her long, brown hair had been braided into multiple strands that draped down to her back.

The second member, Kedrick Farrion, was quite tall in stature. He bore the appearance of a sophisticated man but his physique was often compared to that of a powerful giant. His hair had been shaved bald and he bore a dark goatee, similar to Cain’s. His dark skin was often a point of contention. However, he found solace in the newly established city of Ariculon.

The third, Neila Miara, was a young yet seasoned woman with wisdom beyond her years. The people of the city would often say that her smile was radiant enough to light the darkest trenches of the oceans. Too much cheese for her liking, but she couldn’t disagree, and she loved cheese. She was well versed in the trials of life yet seemed to retain some small piece of innocence and naivety. She had escaped from the city of Mar on the day of its downfall and vowed to rebuild the fallen icon. She was vital in the rejuvenation of the morale of the people and encouraged the formation of bonds between the refugee humans of Mar and the Droragorian. She was of average height, lean in build, and her eyes carried the sparkling blue sheen of Mar’s oceans. Her light brown hair curled around the back of her neck and lay dangling over her left shoulder.

The fourth member, Regeaus Crone, hailed from a family of royalty. He was respected throughout all of Zannondale for his kind heart and sensible nature. He was nearly as tall as Kedrick and even grew up near Kedrick’s home. His golden hair and trim physique attracted many young maidens within Ariculon, attention that he was quick to return with a dashing smile.

The fifth member, Tzula Falchion, was a stern yet fair woman. She wore her dark brown hair very short and would often say that long hair was a burden to her. She had earned the respect of the people through her support and provision of resources during Ariculon’s conception. She rivaled Azura in her haughtiness and valued the finer things. She made no apologies for her taste and dared anyone to test her with an empty gaze of bored judgment.

The sixth member, Aulrin, Maxim’s former aide, was offered the final seat on the council. Aulrin gladly obliged and joined the council to help guide Ariculon and serve as a bridge between the races of Zannondale. Gains, the seventh member, and leader, served as the deciding factor in times of hotly debated topics and decisions. He and the council talked amongst themselves while Cain and Azura waited patiently for an audience. The throne doors opened and General Sauvage swaggered into the room with a smile. Hilde was a woman of thirty, burning with young ferocity and vivaciousness, yet her playful quirks did not go unnoticed. Despite her stern training regimen, Hilde could be a jokester and often reveled at the notion of a night in the local pub. Her medium length, shaggy, reddish, brown hair was a trademark among her soldiers. They would often call her the scarlet siren because of her hair’s hue and her charming good looks.

Ah, good morning, Hilde. Welcome, Gains greeted.

Hilde took her place next to Cain resting her hands behind her back. She leaned a little, still tipsy from a wild night out. Azura glanced toward the opened doors and locked eyes with Colin in the hallway. His eyes widened when he saw her wrathful gaze and he closed the doors.

So tell me. How bad is it? Hilde asked.

"We have recently received word that the city