Tuesday, September 15, 2015

The Final Transformation - Except from Pseudo-Dragon!

Excerpt from the soon to be released Psuedo-dragon:

Rena and Alador During the Blizzard Spell
Alador had risen up onto his hands and knees with the intent to tackle Henrick and stop the spell.  The absorption spell hit him hard, knocking him over onto his side as he curled up in pain.  His hands went to his head as swirling clouds manifested over them, it felt as if large hands held him to the ground.

Separate from the thunderstorm, a maelstrom funneled down to just above the runes.  Henrick’s eyes were still closed as he chanted the words to the spell again.  His hair whipped about him wildly as he stood arms outstretched.  Fire rose up on the most outside lines, blurring Alador from sight. The smell of ozone and sulfur filled the air and in the distance, the mourning cry of the dragon song began to echo across the hills.

Henrick’s last words fell away.  He could do nothing but watch the boy’s faint form through the flames.  The fire still burned the outside lines and Alador was screaming within as he rolled about clutching his head.  The sound of a dragon’s wings drew Henrick's attention and a large form settled beside the worried mortal mage.

“Will he live?” Rena asked worriedly, she moved close to the runes, her wings fluttered with agitation.

“I do not know, Rena.” Henrick admitted. “He is strong, but he was unprepared. I didn’t get the chance to even tell him what he might expect. I don’t know if a mortal’s mind can take such expansion so suddenly.” Henrick took a deep centering breath.

“I want him to live,” Rena demanded.  Her tone was almost as if she could will it to be so.

Henrick looked over at her.  “We all do, Rena,” he answered loudly enough that she could hear over the wind and fire. “Your sire would not have suggested this if Alador could not withstand it.”

“It will change him,” she sounded unhappy.  She looked over at Henrick with clear accusation.

“It will.” Henrick agreed.  “Renamaum was noble and kind.  I can hardly think it will be for the worse.  Maybe he can even learn to control that tongue of his.”   Henrick’s forced a smile as the attempt at humor fell flat between them.

“Can it be undone?” she asked worriedly. “You know, so if it is not working out or he is not the man we know, can you take it back away?”  Her youthful angst was clear in her eyes as she looked at Henrick.   Some things were universal, and the moodiness of young dragons was no exception.  “I don’t want to lose who he is,” she whimpered out.

Henrick watched as the maelstrom began to rise back up into the skies.  “No,” he admitted.  “Right now, what is happening is beyond my control.  I cannot undo it.” He paused.  “To be honest, if I could - I would not.”  He turned to face the agitated female.  “Your father gave his life for this peace.  Your race and Alador’s people will all cease to be as you know them if Alador fails.”

She winced as another piercing scream cut through the air over the sounds of wind and fire.  “How can you put that on your son?  It is such a great burden.”  She pushed Henrick back with her muzzle angrily.

Henrick smacked the dragoness’ muzzle away from him, forced to give ground due to her size.  “I did not give him your father’s stone, Rena.” He glanced at the circle.  The fires were slowly dying down and the screaming had ceased.  “Rather fate, accident, or by the Gods’ will, this fell upon him without intervention from me.” He crossed his arms seemingly undeterred by the young dragon’s ire.

“It is still too much for one,” she growled out.

Henrick nodded, “Aye, and that is why we will stand with him.  He will not be alone, Rena. He has all of us in this fight.”