My prologue^^

[Malykizeth]

Prologue.


The sun had not yet risen, although its presence could be felt, and seen from the band of light that gripped the horizon. The stars were still sprawled in their untidy pattern across the depths of the heavens. Great up-spurts of rock reached toward the twinkling mass as if futilely attempting to leave the snow-laden valley in which they were so firmly embedded.

Someone sat upon one of these rocks, gazing to the heavens and marvelling at their beauty. He was a little over 6 feet tall, slim and well muscled; his body covered in shining silver scales, glowed slightly in the faint moonlight. His thin whip-like tail flicked back and forth, and his magnificent wings stretched, opening up the delicate membrane to the air. He yawned, causing the small crests on the bottom of his jaw to stand out, and his mouth to gape wide; showing off his rows of fine, sharp teeth, his deep sapphire eyes grew slightly teary from the ordeal. He brushed his mane, which was coloured a midnight black that whitened out near the tips, his impressive horns and spines and his belly skin also sharing the same colouration. His ears suddenly perked up, and he turned to see a mountain wolf come padding out of the trees, almost blending in perfectly with its background. The wolf studied the strange creature that seemed to be watching it, and then scampered off out of sight. The figure on the rock chuckled, and returned to his stargazing.
His name was Rayedran Orvixidaar, and he was a dragon.
Of course, many would scoff at this, proclaiming the existence of dragons to be the stuff of myths and fairy tales, but this dragon was no fairy tale. He was solid and real, his heart pumped blood through his veins, his ears sought out the various sounds that danced around him and his sharp eyes flashed to and fro, admiring the moon’s soft, placid glow. He was his own creature, free to move and think as he wished, but like all creatures… he had a destiny.

Rayen remembered what his mother, Levrayell, had instructed him to do, for she had told him to sit on this rock and not wander off under any circumstances, and the young adolescent knew better than to disobey his mother. But his mind lingered further; he was puzzled by his mother’s recent instructions to abandon his magic training, even his fighting exercises had been prohibited, all of which were replaced with private time with his mother, for she seemed to want to spend every moment of every day with him, and had occasionally caught her crying in her chamber. Still, Rayen was young and didn’t fully understand, so he obligingly followed his mother’s instructions… to a degree.

Rayen smiled to himself when he remembered where he had been the other night, he had snuck out of home and tried out his invisibility skills, and had ridden a truck all the way through the nearby town, and every human there had been completely oblivious to his presence, the whole event filled him with excitement, but it also left a slightly painful thought. Of course, if mother would teach me how to shape-shift, I could walk among them without worry. The thought cut deep. Rayen still didn’t understand why his mother had never taught him the secret of shapeshifting, but he was sure she had her reasons.

Another hour dragged on, and Rayen tired of keeping up the spell that covered his body with a bubble of warm air, so he summoned his thick cloak from his chamber using the Agdorz magic his mother had taught him. Almost immediately, a brown bundle materialized next to him, and he threw it over his body, clutching it close to his chest before lowering the his spell, the cold wind suddenly hitting his face and keeping him awake more than ever.

Another strong gust of wind brought a familiar scent, and Rayen turned to the east, spotting the snowy, white dragoness that was steadily closing in on him. Rayen’s young mind had quickly formed a scenario where his mother would drop in and relay a wonderful story to him, telling of wondrous new magic to learn and things to see. He could picture her clearly in front of him, she was a tall, slim, white dragoness, and he had inherited many of his mother’s attractive features, as well as her horns, spines and mane. Her belly skin was a dark, sparkling grey. And she always wore the same, burgundy robe that clutched each of her shoulders before moving back to wind over her wings and then twisting around her stomach and then splitting in two, winding around each of her legs. Yes, Rayen knew his mother well, and he stood up and waved to her, smiling cheerily.

But his smile began to falter when he saw that his mother was not flying in the swift, peaceful way she usually did, for her wings thrashed at the air wildly, and she seemed to be drifting sideways. When she got even closer, he almost stopped dead at her expression…
Her eyes were pouring tears as they flared with grief. Her mouth was stretched in a frozen scream, causing her breathing to be ragged and hoarse. Her normally neat and pretty mane was messy and disorganised, and her scales seemed to have lost some of their shine and beauty.

She landed somewhat heavily about thirty metres from Rayen’s rock, and immediately rushed toward him, Rayen hopping down rather confused. “Rayedran, my son. I love you ever so much.” Her words seemed frantic, “I want you to listen to me now my child, and mark my words well.” He nodded, for no words seemed to come to mind, and his mother suddenly leaned forward, whispering as if they were being watched, “Whatever happens, whatever you do, find Dracondell… you must always keep trying. And also, remember, the one named Shade is a friend. Repeat what I just said Rayen!” Rayen slowly blurted out his mothers words, but was cut of immediately after, “I have something for you my son… a gift.” Out of seemingly nowhere, Levrayell produced a long object that was draped in a piece of velvet cloth. Rayen reached forward and pulled the cloth off, revealing a beautiful sword that lay in his mother’s claws. Its blade was sapphire blue, much like his eyes, and bore some gold writing on the left half. The hilt of the blade was smooth and sleek, made from layers of silver and semsteth. In the centre lay a representation of a silver dragon’s face side-on. Its handle was made of the shiniest black leather, and was decorated with many white swirls and patterns. And at the end, lay a large crescent moon formed from the purest silver imaginable, a large sapphire gemstone cradled inside. Rayen had never seen a weapon of such beauty, and somehow, he knew in his heart it was his, and that he had to use it.

Levrayell’s tears streamed down her cheeks, she watched her son, her beautiful, happy son. She watched as he gasped at the sight of the blade, and began to examine it carefully, giggling in excitement. I never wanted this for you Rayen, but it is beyond my feelings, I am so sorry! Her mind replayed thousands of wordless apologies, all them unheard by the one she spoke to. The mother in her wanted her to take her son, and flee back home, back to Dracondell. But the rational, honourable and determined Levrayell knew what had to be done, and she could not give up, no matter what her instincts told her.

“Mother…,” her thoughts were broken by her son’s words, she looked to him again, he had finished examining the blade, and was busy examining her, his eyes full of fear, “What is happening to you mother? You are scaring me.” His innocent words cut through the last defences she held, and she burst into tears, throwing the sword to the ground and clutching her son.

[Malykizeth]

She held him close to her for many, long minutes, and then slowly released her hold
Levrayell sighed and picked up the blade, and then handed it to Rayen. Rayen swung it about for a moment, marvelling at its lightweight and the way it seemed to almost guide his hand. But his mother then did something else. Rayen felt his body shrinking, and he knew that his mother was shapeshifting him, but it puzzled him, what did he need to be changed for? I did not know we were going to town today. His mother’s actions were growing increasingly puzzling.
She finished the spell, and before her stood a small, human teenager, draped in an oversized cloak, bright, silver hair only partially concealing the eyes underneath. Rayen’s feet shivered, and he fetched the shoes he wore while in this form, as well as extra clothing to compensate for his present form. Levrayell then proceeded to hustle him toward one of the larger rocks, “You must hide my son, I am sorry that you must go through this, but it must be done. Back home there is a case sitting on the br’uu, inside are some important things.” Rayen noticed that his mother was pushing toward a small… dugout space under the rock, a seemingly perfect hiding place , “Mother! I don’t want to go under there!” Levrayell hushed him, “It is alright my son, just remember that I will always love you, and that I will always be proud.” Rayen began to answer, but Levrayell suddenly hissed, and looked toward the east, in the direction she had come from, she then shoved her son with some considerable force, his body sliding neatly into the spot. “Wait here, and whatever happens, don’t speak, and don’t come out until it is safe.” She then stepped away, and walked into a more clear area. A terrifying shout from the east caused Rayen to turn his head…

Four winged figures flew toward his mother, large, black robes that hid their faces covered their bodies, they had horns of different shapes, and all of them looked slightly different. One was very tall, broad, and from the looks of it incredibly muscular, the next two flew quite close to each other, one was about an average looking height, and very slight, its companion being the tallest, but slightly more lanky. Rayen then noticed that one of them did not wear black robes, but instead wore robes of the darkest red, its texture appearing to be dirty blood. The figure wasn’t as tall as the lanky one, wasn’t as muscled as the strong one, and wasn’t as slight as the smaller one, but something made this one stand out, other than its colours. All four of them dropped to the ground in perfect unison, their wings folding back instantly, and their postures going rigid as they approached his mother, who had been almost inanimate until now. Levrayell suddenly hissed, her wings outstretching and her stance turning side-on, standing before them in a defensive stance. They stopped about ten metres from her, and stood still for a very long moment, the wind starting to pick up and blow the snow about, covering everyone there in a thin layer of frost.

The red robe suddenly raised a vile claw and pointed toward Levrayell, and it hissed her name, its voice sharp and cold, and slightly grating on the ears. The figure then began to speak, and its dialect terrified Rayen, for although he strained his ears, and couldn’t here the words properly, he could here them enough to know what language they belonged to… the demonic tongue.
Realization struck Rayen’s mind… these were demons! These were the beings that his mother had warned him about, a race on a far off world that worshipped an evil god, and gave their spirits to it without question, devoting their lives to its darkness and corruption. Levrayell had always spoken of them with hate and anger, and had described them as being a race of pure evil, and now they were before him, and one was speaking to his mother!

The red robe suddenly stopped speaking, and slowly lowered its insidious claw.
Its words seemed to affect Levrayell for she began to pant, as if she were under tremendous strain. She then let out a defiant cry, and rushed them, magic building up around her claws and forming many fiery blades to extend from her talons, and she raised them up, fully bent on striking down her opponents. The red robes arms snapped up, and it lifted them back and pushed forward, magically sending his mother flying backward. It then raised them into the air, rolling its wrists round and round. A black, liquid-like substance swirled from the ground, spiralling around it and building up above its head, forming a dozen floating blades made out of dark magic, the edges dripping with dirty energy. Levrayell didn’t move a muscle, she sat down calmly and watched it complete its work, Rayen was too petrified to do anything, his breath frozen in his throat. The figure let out a laugh, and made one last gesture before letting his arms fall to his sides. The blades immediately sped toward Levrayell, raising upwards and preparing to strike.
Just as they came down, Rayen saw his mother suddenly tense up, her eyes lighting with an inner light and her form wavering slightly, and he had a sudden rush of hope, his mother was casting a spell to stop the blades, and then she would kill the demons and everything would be alright. But his mother’s efforts were useless, the blades tore at her flesh, ripping into her body and showering the nearby snow with her blood. The viscous constructs continued their assault for a long while, constantly hacking and chopping at his mother’s already dead body. Rayen watched his mother’s death, tears welling up in his eyes, his muscles so tense they began to hurt.

Suddenly, the blades stopped and vanished, Rayen turned to see the demons nodding in approval at the scene, and turning to leave… all of them that is, except for the red robe. It was turned towards Rayen’s direction, arms crossed, its orange eyes burning like fire from beneath the hood of its robe, and he suspected that it had been watching him like this ever since it finished casting its spell. The figure chuckled, an awful sound, and then hissed something, before turning slowly to join its companions.

Rayen watched with icy fear as the beings flew off in the distance, watching them disappear out of sight. He slowly crawled out of his hiding place, and walked timidly up to his mother’s decimated corpse. He stared at her body; now unrecognisable from the torture it had gone through. He stretched a tentative hand, and placed it upon one of the few parts of her belly not ruined and covered in blood. His eyes welled up more, and he began to choke when he realised how long it had been since he had taken a breath. Unable to stand it anymore, he burst into tears and wept beside her body, weeping for his now ruined life, weeping for the security that was taken from him and weeping for the only thing in his life that had ever mattered.
He cried until the wind had stopped, until the stars were hidden and the sun shone far overhead. He then felt his mother’s body begin to heat up fast, and it began to shake. She’s alive! The wondrous truth flashed through his mind, and he stepped back, waiting for his mother to arise and comfort him.

[Malykizeth]

But she didn’t arise, what was left of her eyes remained shut and her breath never came. Instead, her body began to glow a soft purple, and then faded, her structure dissolving into nothing before Rayen’s eyes. She was gone, and now he was alone…

He slowly made his way back home, stepping carefully along the hidden, rocky path and coming to the copper door. Head down, he walked inside, and immediately went for the br’uu, his now human form found the large piece of furniture quite large and awkward, but he managed all the same. He sat there, motionless, holding the sword that was now his and staring at its edge. The sword beginning to glow slightly as if trying to comfort him, and briefly… he thought the reflection in it suddenly became a dragon.
Try as it might though… the swords efforts were futile, he was completely speechless, his eyes had darkened and he was remarkably pale. But something worse stirred within him then, a dark presence in the back of his mind, subtle in its touch, yet forceful in its requests. The presence whispered things to him, seeding his thoughts with ideas of revenge and hate.

Shaking his head slightly, his eyes found a small, wooden box next to him. Remembering his mother’s words, he reached out and opened it. Inside, there were a few slips of paper that repeated his mother’s words to him, and another that described a residence in London England, and he noticed that it was under his name, and had been paid to last ten years. Next he found a photograph depicting Stonehenge. Lastly, there was a broken piece of gold-like metal, covered in strange words and runes. All of this meant nothing to Rayen, and only caused his pain to deepen. He did not understand his mother’s actions, and he didn’t know why the demons wanted her dead, but he knew one thing, he would not let them go unpunished.

And so on that day, Rayen swore to hunt down the demons wherever they might be, and would deliver unto them nothing but the sharp edge of a blade, and the bitter sting of magic. He would take no pity on them, and would show them no mercy, and would hunt them down until they were all dead.

Slowly, he crept back into his chamber, and curled up on his Puar, the large, round mat much to big for his current form. And he slowly slipped into a troubled sleep, full of dreams of demons, dragons, humans and magic, of wars and battles and evil faces that wavered in his vision, cruelly mocking him. And toward the end, he saw a pit of blackness, and a face that stretched out from it, it smiled and began to fill his vision, its terrifying image suddenly becoming the centre of his universe.
The wheels of destiny and fate had begun to turn, events would follow that would make or break races, and nothing could be done to stop it from happening.
When he awoke, Rayen had no memory of the evil face, and prepared to live the life that was preordained for him.

Woot! thats it for now... If anyone has anyone thoughts or suggestions... TELL ME!
I will reward you with many hugs and nuzzles and tongue baths!

[Taezil]

Wow Great prolouge, you are doing more arnt you?.. please do more that was great!!!!! ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D ;D