From a Forest of Bone and Blood | Chapter Eight
I remember rage - all consuming, like fires, burning in my soul, indelible, like a brand on my skin.
I remember before the rage, when I was, while not happy, content. I’d been identified as a user of magic at a very young age. Two or three, perhaps.
I was born on the mainland, in the western town of Veridia. That I was talented with magic was not unexpected. Veridia was founded by magic users who’d made it a safe haven for those skilled in the craft or wanting to learn. There was no official school, nothing so fancy as that. No, one either had the gift or one didn’t, and if one did they were taken under the wing of someone older and wiser. They were mentored.
I remember my parents. They laughed a lot, and told me to mind the earth, to make it a better place than I’d found it. I was young, and didn’t understand what they meant.
I do now.
I was fourteen years old when the dragons attacked. We’d done nothing to provoke them, and they descended on the town like thunderclouds.
I was sitting under my favorite tree with my mentor, an elderly man who I’d known all my life. He was like a second father to me.
He was also the first person I ever saw die. The dragon’s claws pierced his stomach and dragged upwards. The blood that gushed forth was so, so red and I was sure I was dreaming.
I would see many more deaths before this day was out.
My parents were included in that number.
Surreal. That’s what it was. Surreal. The screams as people were literally torn apart or set on fire.
No one was spared, but some escaped. The town was decimated and I swore an oath as the moon finally rose over the smoking ruins and the charred bodies of my hometown.
All dragons must die.
Who knew the reasons behind their attack today? Who cared, really, when all the reasons in the world couldn’t bring back my friends, my family or my mentor.
I remember sobbing for what seemed like weeks before picking myself up and embarking on my quest.
I saw dragons slain. Oh, how many I saw slain - monsters 'til the last breath of flame was snuffed out and then simple resources as their scales were harvested and sold for potions to fund my army.
Yes, my army. It was ridiculously easy to find followers, for the news of the massacre at Veridia had spread far and wide. My army was comprised of those who sought vengeance for the deaths of their relatives, those who’d never liked the dragons to begin with, and young upstarts looking to make a name for themselves as soldiers or mercenaries.
I didn’t care why they followed me.
I only cared that they did, and did so without questions.
I remember the rumors. Dragons had grown scarce, thanks to my efforts. They weren’t stupid - these dragons - and that’s what made them so dangerous.
They tried going into hiding, but I would find them. There was no where one could go that I could not follow.
The rumors were that the last dragon in existence had tried to escape, flying all the way from the Mainland to the Verisian Islands, sometimes called the Stepping Stones, usually simply referred to as the Archipelago. The people who live there never refer to the Mainland by the proper name for our country, even though they’re a part of it. No, it’s always just the Mainland or the Archipelago. But that’s of no matter now.
So this dragon had flown to the islands. What a foolish move - as if my army couldn’t secure ships to follow. Did this dragon really think that it could escape me? But then, who even knew if dragons really thought at all. Perhaps they were driven by instinct only, which begged the question - why did they attack my hometown?
I didn’t expect the dragon to be a magic user. I hadn’t known that was possible, but I couldn’t let my army know that.
I’d come unprepared for a battle of this scale. I’d been arrogant and a fool. This was a trap for my army as surely as it was a trap for the dragon. We’d assured our mutual destruction.
The spells we hurled at each other were of the darkest magic and intended to destroy. They collided, our spells, and were then corrupted by an unknown, ancient magic that seemed to come from the very ground beneath our feet.
We were subverted. We were destroyed and reformed, all of us.
There’s a forest there now, where we were destroyed.
The Forest of Bone and Blood.
That is our birthplace.
Chapter Seven | Chapter Nine
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