A high Fantasy epic in short story form
“It’s the magic that draws me to Meego. I’m about to say goodbye to my entire life… Wouldn’t you be on edge too?”
“Hard to have an edge when you’re drunk.”
Aero doesn’t smile that slight grin that Matthew is so used to seeing on Aero’s face when he says something that shocks him. Aero doesn’t react at all.
“In a few days, you will have a decision to make. A very important decision. You will be forced to decide if you can trust a stranger.”
“When your father is King, and he commands you to go… Well… Here I am.”
“A man willing to sacrifice his own son for a weapon is no father. He is not even a man.” Yorba comments.
“That’s treason. Be careful who hears those words.” Aero warns.
“The truth shouldn’t be treason, that is why we must abolish the monarchy. The crown has failed the people for centuries. It’s the last relic of the old age.”
In the morning the group is awoken to the sound of thunder. A rain day.
Matthew wakes up long enough to hear the rain, but quickly crashes. These rare rain days allow him to catch up on sleeping.
Most of the group remain in their tents.
“Yes, the magic I knew was always for the betterment of the people. Blood magic was healing magic. Healers did what was called miracle work. Everything from healing broken bones, to insuring safe births but never genocide!” Crimson exclaims in grief. “Bellum was the home of the Red Circle, the Elders who protected the sanctity of blood magic… how could they allow this to happen?”
“Our people do not owe you any allegiance, you will not be king.”
Another commotion in the camp. Aero has gotten used to these outbursts since the group picked up Roasa a few days ago.
“Tie him to the tree, I’ll take one shot!” She screams.
A man walks in the woods alone, he isn’t quite sure where he is going. Until two weeks ago, he was just another woodsman.
As he exits the forge, something catches his eye to his right.
Standing on the edge of the cliff where Kobi made his climb is a man. A tall man, maybe seven and a half feet tall. With wings protruding from his shoulders.
It’s a Skyman!
“How exactly did you make that shot?” Matthew blurts out between sips.
“Bloodline magic, I never miss.”
Relics of the Old Age