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The page was getting much too long. So, here we are.

A rose blooms; signaling the beginning of a glorious spring. A breeze tugs at the edges, but the rose holds. Strong and young. Travelers yonder hoot and cheer. A smooth river runs downstream, toward the Nokenia Sea. A woman, by the name of Edna, comes across the rose. She inhales deeply, and sighs sweetly. She reaches to the roots and tugs gently. It gives for the woman; a beautiful rose is only to belong to such a beautiful woman.
She places it neatly next to others in her basket and starts back to her village.
Smoke reaches skyward from the blacksmith’s hut. Edna stops in and says hello. The blacksmith is a fine young man, fit for Edna. And he would indeed like to wed her. But, she is not so quick to give herself away.
Edna exits the blacksmith’s forgery and walks towards her own home, taking in the sights of the village. So much had changed in so little a time: from wood huts to stone homes. The people seemed cheerier because of it. And the War of the West had died, so there was even more reason to be cheery. Edna reaches her home and presses into her door. Rocking gently back and forth in front of a warm fire is her sickly grandmother.
Edna’s grandmother turns her head at the sound of the creaky door. Edna’s constant smile increases at the sight of her grandmother. She walks forth and hugs her grandmother tightly.
Her grandmother asks where Edna had gone out to so early. Edna smiles and places the basket of roses in between her and her grandmother. “Those are lovely,” Edna’s grandmother says sweetly. Edna nods and walks around her grandmother to the chair next to her. Sitting, she lets the warmth of the fire blanket her. She turns and sees her grandmother has already turned in her chair, asleep. She turns her head and does the same.
When she wakes, she sees her grandmother has not moved. She carefully gets up and exits the home. She strolls down to the butchery and purchases venison. She thanks the man with a nod and goes back to her home.
Upon returning, she finds that her grandmother is still sitting quite still. She doesn’t let worry besiege her and starts on the meal for the night. When the meal is done she walks to her grandmother and nudges her gently. She doesn’t move. Edna nudges her again. Still no movement. Edna, in a panic, shakes her grandmother violently. Nothing.
She bursts from the home and goes to the blacksmith. She points toward her home and jumps frantically. William – the blacksmith – gets the memorandum and steps from behind the counter. William follows Edna to her home. Edna shoves the door open and points to her grandmother. William presses a warm hand to Edna’s arm and walks to her grandmother.
Edna turns away and cries into her knees.
Part One, End.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The funeral is quickly arranged. The whole village arrives in honour of Edna’s grandmother. Flowers are laid on top of a wooden casket. People cry. Edna weeps. William caresses.
However unfortunate the event is, it presents a wonderful opportunity for William to work his way into Edna’s life. He stays with her most days up to the funeral, and stands beside her on the day. Edna remains in utter disbelief that her grandmother has passed. Her mind has been enclosed in a mental shell, which blocks everything
Even though William tries to use this opportunity, Edna’s reclusiveness proves to thwart his plans. As the funeral comes to its close, a small silhouette can be made out, just slightly on the horizon. Nobody takes notice. Travelers come through all the time.
Near the end of the day, the silhouette reaches the village. It belongs to a tall milky white man suited in thick dark armour. At his side is a sword, made especially for the man due to his high stature in the army.
General Trex. He served the Royal Guard well in the War of the West. His appearance in this village is a rare occasion. He walks casually through the village, stopping at Edna’s house. He knocks and waits for someone to answer the door.
William answers and eyes the General conspicuously. “Come in, General,” William says smoothly, not wanting to offend the General. General Trex certainly is known around the land of Fru`ania. Trex nods and walks past William. He sees Edna sitting by the fire just through the front door. He turns to William and quickly eyes the front door.
William takes the hint and walks outside, leaving the General to say his peace with Edna. When the General is sure he has his privacy he turns back to Edna. “I am so deeply sorry for your loss,” he says, and in his words ring truth. Edna only stares blankly back at him. “I know this is a hard time for you. But, do you know who your grandmother was?”
Edna’s blank stare holds. Trex sighs and walks to the nearest window. He stares out as a smile breaks across his face. “They warned me that you would be hard to communicate with.”
Trex turns back to her. “I’ll tell you, and whether you listen or not. I’ll have done what I came to do. Your grandmother was one of the few females ballsy enough to square up to a dragon,” he laughs. “And one of the few who have lived to tell the tale,” he winks, “Among witches. She was one of the finest. But she stopped fighting. Do you know why?” The words actually grab Edna’s attention. She shakes her head. Trex’s head nods slowly as he goes on, “It is because your mother was born.”
“Edna, your grandmother fought even through her pregnancy, but since there was no father to protect the baby; she took care of it herself. That is when we started to lose the war.”
“That, is why I am here.”
Part Two, End.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I would like to take you back, for this one. Back to a time when there was no peace, when sleep came only in rare occasions, and when some people were more feared than even dragons.
A king, freshly crowned, takes his place atop his throne. He strokes the armrest and purrs. His eyes rest on the only other person in the room. “Squire,” he calls, “Fetch me something to celebrate with.”
The stubby man nods quickly and exits the throne room. A short time later, he returns with ale. The king leers at the bottle. The stubby man catches the leer and stops. “Is ale not good enough, sire?” he asks, voice cracking through the sentence.
“Ale is perfectly satisfactory,” the king smiles, “For a peasant.” The squire begins to turn tail, but before he’s turned all the way around, he’s on the floor. The king watches with mild interest as the short man wriggles clutching at his throat.
The door to the throne room bursts inward. In steps a woman, tall and beautiful; highly feared and respected across the land of Fru`ania. Beside her is Lieutenant Trex. Young and tan. Still breaking his teen years in.
The woman sees the man writhing on the floor and says a quick word of magic. The man stops. After a second his chest rises, then falls. The woman, Ivia, glares at the king, Leion, through cold eyes. Leion stands and his arms reach out, as if he’s gesturing for a hug. “Ah, Ivia. You came just in time. I was just about to celebrate,” he coos.
“I can see that,” Ivia nods. “And I hear you wear the crown now?” Leion’s arms drop, and he smiles. “I see,” Ivia says, as if the smile confirmed something. “Your father was in perfect health,” tests Ivia.
“My father was a fool!” Leion snorts. “He knew nothing about running a kingdom. Do you think he ever faced a dragon in his life? Do you know how many I have slain?” Leion’s voice stops and turns to a contorted murmur, “Oh, but. He did try, that’s why old father is no longer here.” A twisted smile forms on Leion’s face. “And now I suppose you’re here to kill me? To de-throne me, because you believe I killed my father.” Leion’s eyes lose their abrasiveness. “My father may have been a fool, but I loved him.” He stares at Ivia. “I would never kill my father.”
Trex steps closer to Ivia and leans toward her. A few silent words are exchanged between the two and they bow to Leion and turn away.
“You’re leaving?” Leion calls after them.
“For now,” Ivia nods, her right hand rising in the air, “But we’ll be back.” The door to the throne room thuds closed behind them. Leaving the troubled king to laugh through his tears. Torn about the situation he finds himself in.
Part Three, End.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Atop the Ghauzveh Mountains, watching the skies, stands a man. His face scarred from the many battles he has endured, more muscular than most men, and far more powerful than any other. His eye breaks away from the skies and drops to a spot far below. His nose turns in disgust.
Leion reaches the top of the mountain and makes his way to where this man camps. When he arrives at the camp, he only stands, barely even breathing.
The man turns to him and grunts.
Leion almost whimpers and begins to talk. He weaves madness and despair in his tale. But the wicked smile on Leion’s face almost convinces the man.
When Leion has stopped, the man has to look away from him. To ensure himself that he won’t kill him right there.
“Vex,” Leion says quietly, “An alliance would be in your best interest.”
“Because you think you can defeat me?” Vex laughs.
“Not alone,” Leion prods.
Vex turns back to Leion and grips his sword. Leion tries not to show his absolute fear. “An alliance with the dragons is not the way,” Vex says sternly. “You will fail as a king. You will most likely die while presenting yourself to them. Stupid, arrogant child.”
“Very well,” Leion says coldly, “The offer stands. If you wish to save yourself, and others, it is the only way.” Leion turns away and walks down the mountain. Vex watches as a sentinel would. Cold unwavering eyes following Leion all the way down the mountain.
“Fool,” Vex spits and brings his gaze back up to the sky.
“I knew it,” comes a strong voice, obviously that of a woman’s.
Vex doesn’t have to look to know who it is. “Ivia,” he sighs, “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough,” she laughs and walks up to Vex. She looks into his eyes and her expression turns serious, “You know it should be you on that throne.”
“We’ve been through this.”
“Many times,” Ivia nods.
“And each time, I’ve told you. Not me.”
A long silence ensues. Then, “Leion won’t survive, you know.”
“I know.”
“Should we stop him?”
Vex shakes his head. “Alive he’s a threat to everyone, especially himself. Dead, he’s a threat to no man. What we fight for is peace. If an arrogant child for a king must die for us to uphold peace, then so be it.”
Ivia nods. “And what if he succeeds?”
“Then we kill him ourselves.”
“And what if we can’t do that?”
Vex looks at Ivia, expression passive, “I don’t know.”
Part Four, End
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
War. Absolute and god awful. Thousands have died. Vex and Ivia together cannot stop the oppressive attacks. Ivia’s started to slow. Vex can see it, but he doesn’t say anything. Leion’s disappeared, but Vex knows he’s survived. Vex knows that the deadly alliance has been formed. And Vex is almost certain he knows where Leion hides – waits – for him.
Amidst an ashen field, Vex stands tall. Several dragons surround him, all in silent slumber. He walks to the nearest one and shoves his sword into the beast’s chest. He rips the blade across. Unnaturally purple blood spumes from it. Vex plants his blade in the ground and reaches into the dragon’s chest.
Minutes of gooey submergence. Then, he pulls free the dragon’s heart – still pumping. Vex chants a few words of a distant language and watches as the heart dissolves in his hand. He does the same to the others. He then takes a dragon scale from each; each distinctly a different colour. He drops the scales into a leather bag. Then walks to the edge of the battlefield and gazes, recollecting on the events that had just taken place, burning homes remind him of how close he was to becoming a burnt piece of meat.
Ivia steps up next to Vex, coming from her own battle, and stares at him. Vex notices her and stares back. Her hands move in a slow rotation on her abdomen. Vex stares down toward her hands, and then back to her eyes and nods.
He runs a hand through his thick black hair and sighs, “It needs to come to an end.”
“Yes, it does,” Ivia agrees.
“I’ll find Leion, and I’ll end it.”
“Not without me!” Ivia screams.
“Yes, without you,” Vex says calmly, “Now with a child on the way, I definitely cannot see you to battle.”
“You know I can handle myself in battle.”
“Yes, you can, and I know it very well. But not whilst pregnant, I will not allow it.”
Ivia turns away from him, tears building in her eyes. “You’ll be killed.”
“Most likely,” he grins.
“You aren’t afraid?”
“No,” Vex says after a short pause.
She wheels around and stomps toward him. When she reaches him she kisses him fervidly. It lasts for short seconds. When it’s over she steps away, turns around, and begins to walk away
Vex watches her until she’s gone, then turns an eye back up to the sky. One dragon circles overhead. Vex whispers in the same language spoken earlier and waits. The dragon lands and bows its head. Vex returns the gesture.
The dragon looks at its slain brethren around him and snorts at Vex. Which would have seemed to be a threat, but Vex knows its meaning. He nods, brings his right arm up to his chest and moves his hand out. A blessing endowed through the followers of the one and only Gemah.
The dragon bows its head and flies above. In seconds the dragon has disappeared over the Tarhna Mountains. And in minutes it’s returned. It lands and stares at Vex. A sigh of icy breath envelopes him. Carried in the ice is a message. Vex nods and starts toward the Tarhna Mountains. Behind him he hears the dragon grunt. He turns back to it. Another icy breath hits him, and in this one the message, “I’ve rather taken a liking to you. So, hop on.”
Vex grins and mounts the dragon, which raises its wings. “Wait,” Vex stops it. It turns its head until a single eye stares at Vex. “Your name?” Vex asks curiously.
The dragon breathes a quick breath onto Vex. This message turns not only his skin cold, but the blood beneath it. The dragon winks, and flies off.
Part Five, End.