|| Book One of the Dragonkind Duology ||
𝙄𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙖 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙛 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙩; 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣.
For years, dragonkind and humankind had been at war, alternating between short-lived truces and all out...
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"So, do you have any particular route in mind?" Iver asked no one in particular as they all gazed down at the map before them. Whatever dinner they hadn't finished had been pushed aside.
Darin had led them to an inn that sat in the center of Langerich, nearest to where the mana reservoir was strongest. It was Iver who suggested the type of location. For their journey to Weststar, if they wanted to make it to Paraglia before snowfall settled, the man and his apprentice needed to regain their mana supply as fast as they could.
"I was thinking of crossing the river here," Darin said, tracing his finger along the path. "It's also the least fae-infested route since there's a low concentration of—"
"We go through Téchivar."
Darin stared incredulously at Noctifer. "You want us to go through unseelie infested territory and through mountains?" he asked slowly, careful to enunciate his words to make sure the warrior understood him. "We are going to Weststar for the purpose of mana potions. I thought we'd make it a point of trying to use the least amount of mana."
"I could care less if you run out of mana or not," Noctifer replied gruffly, disregarding Darin by gazing around the tavern idly. "We won't make it far if we choose to go around the mountains."
"Won't make it far? We won't make it far your route, either!" Darin exclaimed. "Do you think I have an unlimited supply of mana floating at my fingertips?"
Noctifer raised an eyebrow, challenging, "Do you not?"
Darin could only stammer in reply, absolutely baffled. Luckily, Iver quickly piped up to say what Darin could not.
"Darin is human, Noc," he explained. "Humans cannot produce their own mana, hence why they rely on reservoirs and potions. You may need fae blood to be able to possess magic, but only fae-born races such as elves and dragonkind can produce their own."
"I see." Noctifer crossed his arms and leaned back, regarding Darin once more before turning away with a huff of laughter. Darin narrowed his eyes at that, opening his mouth to confront him, but a sing-song voice cut him short.
"Listen all, and listen well! For the story tonight is not one many can tell!"
An extravagantly dressed man pranced around a stage set in the corner while he strummed a lute wildly in suspenseful chords. There were many groans, but others crowded around to hear the bard more clearly. As if he wasn't loud enough already.
"Leave it to a bard to begin playing at the most inopportune moment," Darin commented smartly, setting his elbow on the table and resting his head in his palm. Iver chuckled at his words. They wouldn't be able to get anything done with the racket, anyway.
"Excitement and betrayal; origins and the final battle. Tonight, you shall hear the epic tale of the Great Sorcerer Ordephus and his dragonkind apprentice!"
