RDM RP Page #24

Meanwhile at Dark Castle

Morac stepped into the black kingdom with his powerful dragon Zellor'ox at his side. His eyes searched through the shadows of the abandoned throneroom where he had poisoned Amrevar and left him for dead, but he was gone. his twin brother was gone and there was no explanation for the disappearance unless... He noticed that the chains had been broken while dried, dark blood crusted on the ground where the former lord had stood dying. "Zellor'ox...there is no possible way that he could have escaped, let alone lived... no magic could have undone what I did to him..." came his chill voice that reverberated up the stone walls.

Malias is dead as well...while I was travelling in the woods near Sar'dan for prey, I felt the presence of his mind vanish like a fading mist... Zellor'ox let out a puff of smoke from his nostrils. Illatrius failed life as well...which means it couldn't have been him... It must have been Erindor and Erador or Marthril and his dragon Zhenjai... but it doesn't matter now... Amrevar is among the dead...which is good for our sake. Now...

The black dragon was cut off as a strong Drow elf came inside with a black hood drawn over his head. Held beneath his left armpit was a silver crown. In its center was a jet stone in the semblance of a dragon and spiralling from it were etched vines. On the top brim were five-inch spikes, but the one in the front was about seven inches long. "I have brought it, my liege..." the elf said rather cooly, yet showing no emotion.

"Zenixus... you have done well... Now..hand it to me..." was Morac's single reply, facing his servant.

Zenixus handed him the crown as Zellor'ox watched with intense interest.

"It's about time that this hour has come..." Morac said coldly. Amrevar's twin placed the crown upon his brow, turning toward the back of the throneroom. He walked swiftly to the platform where Amrevar's throne and the obsidian statue of Drazon used to be. Hert'zar gathered in curiousity, pouring into the spacious room from the castle halls. "Yes, come to me!" Morac shouted into the air. The warrior beasts gripped their weapons tightly, slowly becoming enraged with Morac's movements, but knowing fully well that they couldn't do anything about it because of their past oaths in the ancient language.

"What do you think you're doing?" a Hert'zar cried out angrily.

"At last claiming the throne that was rightfully mine, Derzhluk! You cannot stop me, you have not the intelligence, beast!" Morac yelled with a bitter grin.

The Hert'zar crowd burt out with roars of anger and detest.

Morac growled and immediately raised his right hand against them. "SILENCE!"
He lowered his arm, glaring into their eyes, causing them to tremble with fear because of the strength of his voice and the power of his gaze full of hatred. Then he pointed at them with disgust. "You...shall do as I say or death shall befall you...am...I...understood..?" His words came slowly as if to burn their hearts with the fire of his malevolence.

Stiffened, the Hert'zar nodded, lightening the sieze of their battle tools.

Zellor'ox rumbled deep in his throut with a terrible laugh that shook the hearts of the warriors like a hard drum. You are quite good with taking authority...Ha! You have done such hundreds of times and there is no reason why the land of Agarsenus should not cower before you, my rider! Even darkness obeys your high commands! With your intelligence and power, and my strength and black fire, we shall conquer Agarsenus!

It won't be that easy to gain these lands as my own...Erindor is a formidable enemy,but still not worthy as a rider. Morac stepped down from the platform, shouting at the Hert'zar and ordering them to prepare themselves in arms. I do not exactly have to try my best. These creatures are swayed so simply. His words in Zellorox's mind were slow and mischeavous-sounding.

"So, my liege..." Zenixus's voice echoed, smoothly. "What have we yet to accomplish?" He had drawn his sword and began cleaning it with a black cloth.

"What have we yet to accomplish?" Morac repeated, reflecting the voice he had used to communicate with his dragon. "Tomorrow we leave for Sar'dan at dawn to snatch that green-haired, sleeping child under the noses of his caretakers and one of the remaining black dragon eggs from one of their protected hoards. It shall be very, very, very simple cinsidering that I have been through every room and hall of that kingdom. I once lived there, Zenixus, with my dying mother and my most wretched of siblings. I will have to search the infirmary at first, but if nothing seems fruitful there, I shall move my quest to the castle...actually..." Then he began to ponder. "You will go through the informary while I pillage the castle for what I desire...and Zellor'ox...you can fly us there upon your back. It is difficult to transport myself from here all the way to Sar'dan, the peasant city. You must hide...."

Zellor'ox growled his affirmative.

Zenixus paused in the scouring of his sword, and watched as the light of outside gradually vanished for night. "I would like to aquire a dragon myself, Lord Morac... This is the only thing I ask for as a payment of what you ask of me... If the black dragon hatches for young Za'nix, and if, by chance, it is a female, I would like her to mate with Zellor'ox once it becomes of age. One of the eggs shall be mine to claim. Color does not matter to me... Is this in the matter of agreement?" His gaze returned to the micheavously narrow eyes of Morac, his ruler. He could here Zellor'ox chuckling in great amuzement.

If only you knew how much I appreciate this malevolent idea, Zellor'ox said, sending his thoughts to Zenixus.

Zenixus couldn't contain his laughter for very long.

Leaning against the enterance wall, Morac pondered on Zenixus's request while staring at the cieling. "It's been granted. I am sure Zellor'ox shall have his enjoyment when the day arrives."

The great, black dragon clawed at the ground. Indeed. In an instant, he bounded out the exit and took to the air for the cave just above the castle. Light completely left the atmosphere and it was at last time for sleep.

Morning brought an unwanted sun that sent scorching heat through the mountains and down onto the crags. Zellor'ox left the safety of his cavern so he could meet with his merciless rider down in the castle. Once he was above the cliff platform, he let himself drop to the earth. Rocks crumbled from the edge of the cliff because of the force of his weight. Zellor'ox whipped his tail to and fro before entering the castle. On the throne sat his master, and beside him was Zenixus readying for the raid. Zellor'ox brought his head down a little to fix slanted, gray eyes on Morac. So...are we well prepared?

Yes... Morac said, slyly while standing up. He came down the steps and grabbed his dragon's saddle. He strapped the saddle to Zellor'ox's back and stepped back with a grin.

When are we leaving? Soon I hope. Zellor'ox sharpened his claws on the stone floor. My patience in very...very...very thin, Morac.

Morac laughed histarically. As soon as possible, my dragon friend.

I find it interesting that you discover amusement in my impatience... Zellor'ox growled bitterly.

Stay your tongue! Morac snapped and then immediately laughed, feeling a rush of insanity course through him. He did what little best he wanted to in order to to calm himself. He spun himself towards Zenixus and chuckled. "We leave now!" He dashed out of the throneroom, followed by Zellor'ox's steps. When Morac reached outside, he took a breath of air; chills surged through his spine causing him to shiver, but he loved it. "I sense sorrow, I sense regret... the petite world of Sar'dan is weeping out for the ones I've killed!" he laughed heartily, bearly capable of containing his passion for suffering. "Now...to pour more despair upon them..." Using magic, he transformed his appearance: his hair got shorter, and his face became more handsome; his eyes became a glowing, grayish blue; and the only clothes he wore consisted of a black cloak, a pair of black pants, a pair of coal-colored riding boots, and on his wrists were dark archer bracers. The twin blades were sheathed at his side. Yes! He cried loudly in his mind. "Yes! How wonderful is it that I can destroy lives without being punished for it!" He climbed onto Zellor'ox's saddle, accompanied by Zenixus. Zellor'ox lifted up into the air and down towards the ground below. He kept himself right above the trees when he reached the forests, in hope to keep himself from being sighted when he became close enough, but before then he had many miles to cover. so, he was all right for now.

Once the three came to the forest near Sar'dan, Zellor'ox flew down through the trees and landed softly on the moist ground. Morac, Zenixus! Do your dirty work before i become impatient! I don't want to tarry here too long!

Morac and Zenixus dismounted and vanished into the shadows; Morac's destination the castle and Zenixus's destination the infirmary.

After a while, Morac returned with Zenixus with a snarl staining his face.

Not productive? Zellor'ox observed, amused.

"No..." Morac replied aloud, "but Zenixus was more fruitful than I. He was capable of retrieving the babe Za'nix. The eggs could not be found in the castle..."

---

<Back in Sardan:

"Been better...I think that holds true for a great many of Sar'dan today," Erindor replied. "I'll be a happy man when I can rest my eyes and body without worry." He pushed himself off the throne's backrest and walked over to one of the long thin windows, "I thank you for your efforts, Marthril...the city is well on her way to healing from her ordeal. Are we about ready for my address?"

"It is very understandable since you and all of Sar'dan has gone through what is not deserved." Marthril stared down in thought before looking back over to Erindor. "Yes, all is well prepared for your address...and you're welcome. More will have to be done tonight yet...and I shall remain sleepless until the last of the repairs have been made." He pondered for a moment, thinking back on when he was alone by the sculpture of Illatrius. "Why have you called me? What ever it may be, you have my immediate service."

"For reasons I stated last night. What is the report of the city? Are the relief efforts effective enough? How many are without shelter? I also wanted to discuss organizing collective meals, possibly starting with lunch today. What has been done already?" Erindor queried, watching Marthril patiently.

"Everything seems to be going perfectly in the efforts. Almost the entire city has served the cause. At least two hundred, thirty-eight citizens are without proper housing, but they are being sheltered by family, friends, and the kind-hearted until we are capable of building new dwellings for them. Fourteen children of the city's young ones have been rendered orphans, and there are, sadly, thirty-four widows and twenty-seven widowers. Organizing collective meals is possible, for many of the farmers distant from the city have freely given a majority of various kinds of food to aid those who cannot fend for themselves and for those who have become unfortunate due to the past disasterous events. A team of carpenters and stone workers began to work on the houses last night and took their rest around midnight. The homes should be completed within a week or two." Marthril took a moment to think about some calculations. "The reconstruction should take close to six months or, by how others may put it, half a year; it also could be a little longer if things do not go as planned. The promise of a new king has set hope and renewed vigor into their hearts and into the strengths of their backs. I have talked with a few of the city dwellers and a majority of them said that they shall trust the one who my father, thier former lord, chose, which of course is you." He grinned over to Erindor. "Anyways, they are looking forward to your address and so am I. I believe everyone is. Hope has never been so powerful."

"Beautiful, simply beautiful. I'll organize the hunger relief effort after my address...should only be a matter of collecting food supplies and finding enough cooks. Turning the feasts into celebrations isn't a bad idea either; it'll boost morale. I plan on helping construction teams for most of today anyways as I'm sure my strength will come in handy." 

Sincalia hugged Erindor from behind and kissed his cheek, "Aren't you leaving something out?" she mused lovingly.

Smiling broadly, Erindor wrapped his hands over hers, "Oh yes...our wedding is to be tomorrow morning if possible. If not, we'll move it to a morning where Sar'dan has regained her footing."

"Wonderful!" Marthril folded his arms and smiled joyfully. "I think...all of Sar'dan is in for a double gorgeous surprise. I'll help where ever I can. The wedding would be good to take place tomorrow. We need celebrations and plenty of bliss to bring the morale of the city higher."

"Excellent! Well as soon as Erador returns to us I shall give my address..." Erindor said, chatting with Marthril and Sincalia until Erador arrived.

"Are we ready?" Erador queried, the eggs securely fixed within the sheath for his tongue.

"Yes, Magnificient Erador," Erindor replied happily. "You have the egss, yes?"

Erador opened his mouth and showed the three where he was keeping them. "Don't worry, I won't swallow them," he said. 

"Even if you did, you would only polish their already brilliant exteriors," Erindor noted. Sincalia and Erin took one another's arms and began walking, "...Well...this is it. Marthril? Is there any ornament to signify my position? I didn't think so because Malias never wore a crown or the like."

Marthril sighed and smiled. "Yes, there is actually. It's my father's sword Mercy. It was passed down from my mother's side of the family. It was her sword before she died. You won't have to use it, but you'll have to wear it during special occasions like ceremonies and the like. The sword itself is thousands and thousands of years old. Mercy is one of the first elf swords ever forged."

"Ah, it shall be an honor, for special occasions," Erindor replied. "Mercy...she must be tens of thousands of years old then, almost makes Valourne look superfilous in comparison. Where will my sword be when I'm wearing Mercy? I suppose I could strap Valourne to me back as I sometimes do..." he said, ducking his head a little as Erador swallowed them with his gait, easily walking over the heads of the three. "Hey look! A giant umbrella!"

Erador chuckled, a vibration that rattled the bones and jaws of Erin, Sincalia, and Marthril. "Its come in handy more than once for you, I'm sure."

"And for that, I am more than thankful," Erindor crooned, reaching up to rub a small fraction of Erador's sternum. "God he's huge..."

Sincalia chuckled, "It wouldn't be nearly as fitting if you had a smaller companion."

"I agree. Ajin, Avarath, and Cantalith should be at the ceremony too...should I send for them?" Erador queried. 

"Yes...would they be out hunting?"

"Cantalith, no...Ajin and Avarath were seen to with a large breakfast and a follow up by the healers. I shall contact them mentally; they should not be far," Erador replied.

The discovery of the three dragons had Erindor's heart singing with hope and joy, "I'm simply astonished that we just...happened upon them! Despite all that we've been through, the light still shines bright!" he exclaimed as Erador pushed open the secondary castle doors with his muzzle and the light from outside poured in.

Marthril smiled and burst out laughing as an image popped up in his mind with Erador looking like an umbrella, head staring towards them with peeping eyes, blinking curiously. "Umbrella..." Then he brought up more important things to his mind. "Yes, indeed," he said smiling. "Are we ready?"

"Yes, yes we are," Erindor said confidently, a smile stretched across his handsome and angular face. 

As they walked to the plaza in Erador's shade, the Emerald Dragon called out to Cantalith, her brother Avarath, and Ajin. "Kindest kin, your presence is requested for Erindor's inaugural address. Meet us at the northern end of the Great City Plaza," he purred, feeling a great attatchment towards them already.

"We're to go to the northern side of the Plaza...that way the sunlight won't disagree with the citizens or myself," Erindor said as they walked a wide main road paved with white bricks.

"Wonderful," Marthril replied warmly before following them close behind, outside.

"Wonderful, yes! A marvelous word to use, my friend!" Erindor trumpeted, wrapping an arm around Marthril's shoulders and roughly pulled him close in an act of playful affection. "At last glance, were the citizens filing into the Plaza?"

Marthril chuckled in amusement before letting out a full laugh of bliss in the moment. "At last glance, I rememeber that it was far too early for citizens to be awakening. The sun was just rising, but on my way they were leaving their home. Look now...the streets are empty and..." He pointed to the place of ceremony and grinned, "they gather in that special place over there. You are a lucky being, my friend. You have the entire city welcoming you as their new king. What do you plan to do after the address?" Marthril's mind of seriousness passed into the void in order for him to enjoy himself more than he usually did. In that moment, he decided to accept his father's death in order to move on. All depressing thoughts deceased in his intention of expressing his delight of the forthcoming events. He knew only one would bring sorrow, but he would keep back that sorrow until the time came. Marthril let out a mischievous laugh, appearing his own age (Elf age, that is), and rubbed his left hand hard on Erindor's head and through his black hair, like he would a brother. Since he didn't have a brother of his own to mess around with, Erindor was the closest he could ever have, considering that his father was friends with him. He hadn't let out his playful side in a long time.

Erindor giggled and tried to escape the ruffling of his hair, making up some weak excuse that it would mess up his appearence. He hugged both Sincalia and Marthril to his sides, "To be honest...I'm in such a sate of shock, I'm not sure I can fully digest the scale of my ascending position." He looked over between the houses and buildings and caught a glimpse of a sea of faces. "...Wow. I am certainly heartened to have the three of you along with me on this great journey."

"You will be exemplary, my Love," Sincalia crooned, kissing his cheek as she too messed with his hair and sang a glorious laugh. 

Marthril laughed in unision with Sincalia's, but deffinately not as pretty; his was more heartily done like two men do when they have fun sparring. "I feel honored to be by your side, Erindor, but if you want to be a a powerful king, I suggest not paying a whole lot of mind to your image since it will do you no good in battle," Marthril teased with a happy snigger, hugging Erindor in return.

Chuckling, Erindor sighed, "Oh yes. I'm very well kept when I'm in the full throws of battle...blood everywhere, bits of ejected flesh, bone, and other nasty visceral matter mixed with wild hair and a savage snarl. I aim to strike fear into mine enemy, not impress him with my fair looks," he said. "But I can't help if they're awed and amazed with my muscles...knowing that they're gonna be next."

This time Marthril couldn't stop laughing. He folded his arms over his stomach and let out gasps of his amusement until he could laugh no more. Tears stained his eyes and he wiped them away. "Wow..." He straightened himself and gazed at the clear sky. "Not so elf-like I know..but oh,well. That was hilarious."

Laughing with him, Erindor's mirth bubbled at the surface as his eyes and high cheeks glowed merrily. "On the contrary, I can be very graceful...but my ferrocious dragon side gets the better of me and it goes downhill from there, grace wise," he chuckled.

"Gee, thanks," Erador chuckled, humming gently alongside Erindor's mirth. 

"But none can match my kin's grace in the air!" Erindor saved, rubbing Erador's belly, or again, a small fraction of it. 

Erindor nuzzled Sincalia's cheek, laying a kiss soonthereafter. "Thank you for coming, your support is invaluable, my Love," he crooned. They shared a few more sweet nothings before his attention turned again.

"Bit late now, but do you suppose it would be better to have Erador in his armor or go without it? I thought that having his armor on would provoke a sort of unealthy tension, a shimmering reminder of our greatest conflict."

"Without would do well," Marthril replied, smiling. "Dragons look more glorious without the touch of war to their appearance..." Then he looked up at Erador, beaming, "Especially you, Erador." He returned his gaze to Erindor. "Dragons are indeed fantastic, are they not?"

"If I were any less of a being than I am now, I would take perfect comfort in worshiping them as gods," Erindor replied. "But I know better, yet they are by far the most amazing creation by the gods. So pure in power and wisdom, so learned in magic and the fabrics of the universe...they are perfection in the flesh," Erindor said, his eyes misting over.

Erador gave a great coo, the deep vibrations striking emotional chords in those in earshot. "That means a great deal to me, thank you, Erin," Erador purred.

Erindor smiled, conversing mentally with Erador for a few moments. "Just watch...he's actually walking over us. Just look at his build, the tendons and muscles, the shimmering scales, the slope of his abdomen, the bulk of his chest, his rippling legs, broad paws, and boulder sized talons. Every dragon shares these same traits in their own uniquity."

Marthril nodded in sheer agreement, taking enjoyment in Erindor's fascination with dragons. He looked out to the plaza and took a moment for deep thought and reveries of good, old times before the bad ones emerged from chaos. All was well for now, he knew that. He was looking forward to the near furture and all the hope that would come as cleansing tides throughout the aspects of the city; it soothed him.

"...AND!" Erindor went on, "I couldn't be more proud to be half dragon...for the strength and other similar benefits. I'm not sure if I'm any wiser because of it...likely not," he chuckled.

The four of them broke out into the open in full view of the citizens of Sar'dan. Erindor's breath caught as he spied all the faces watching them, and he felt the early morning sun warm his back as Erador fell back a few strides to reveal the new King, his fiancee, and Malias' magnificent son. A dull roar of applause broke out through the crowd, their faces golden with sunlight. Erindor raised his right hand, bearing his Rider's Mark and met the gaze of many. His smile simply couldn't be any grander.

Marthril smiled as he watched the crowd, but, as usual, he did nothing so he could leave all the glory and praise for Erindor. He would rather do that than to be noticed anyways. Zhenjai, where are you, dear one?? You are missing the wonderful excitement!

Erador also sent out another mental call, "Cantalith, are you out hunting? Your presence is needed soon! I understand if you, your brother, and Ajin are still wary of humanoids...but there's nothing to fear here! Come join us on this wonderful occasion!"

"Ajin, are you and Avarath well? We would like you to be a part of the inaugruation ceremony! Come as quickly as you can!" Erador quietly sighed, showily flapping his wings and trumpeted, stamping his feet in time with gargantuan bass drums.

"Here we go," Erindor said, smiling and waving with the occasional hand thrown kiss. With his beloved in arm and Marthril at his side, Erindor began ascending the steps to the podium.

Marthril clapped with an amused smile upon his lips. He followed Erindor, Erador, and Sincalia as a loyal companion would do.

Ajin smiled. 'I thank thee for the request. We're on our way. Would you rather an aerial arrival or one from the ground?'

Erador, and Sincalia as a loyal companion would do.

Ajin smiled. 'I thank thee for the request. We're on our way. Would you rather an aerial arrival or one from the ground?'

"Oh I think an aerial arrival will be a most impressive introduction," Erador replied, smiling pridefully. "Land here..." he instructed, giving the three dragons a mental image of the raised pavillion that Erindor was to give his address from. 

Meanwhile, Erindor had ascended the final step and walked to center stage with his feet planted close to the edge as he threw his arms out wide in a great embrace. "People of Sar'dan! This morning we gather in testament to our obdurate will to live on in triumpth! To see this day through to the next with the one binding goal that holds all of us together in this great family; peace!" his voice boomed, easily reaching the furthest ear. "We have shown that we are more powerful than our foes and we can mount the summit of any challenge! For despite these times of despair and destruction, there is also rebirth! Sar'dan's spirit will go on! And like the Pheonix rising from her ashes, we will be restored, stronger and more prosperous than ever before!"

"Ah...now would be a good time to make a surprise enterance," Erador advised, hoping to time Erindor's speech with their arrival.

Just as Erador had hoped, the shadows of three dragons swooped over the crowd, landing with precision and grace in a line where the great dragon had told them. A large silvery dragon spread its wings in the center, mimicked by a charcoal colored dragon on the left, and a dark red dragon on the right. The trio was attentive to the speaker, and bugled a triumphant roar in unison.

Erindor's cheeks strained from a proud smile, and continued on, "...And as the dawn follows the darkest hour of the night, I present to you gifts of the dawn!" he roared, sweeping his arm back and cocked his head, nodding to Cantalith, Ajin, and Avarath in turn with a huge grin. "I'm glad you could come!" he exclaimed jubiantly. "All of you here today are bearing witness to the coming of a new age, and the return of the light! No longer will we be haunted by the darkness of winter! No longer will we have monsterous fears, no longer! For today is the day that marks the end of our suffering and the first step to paradise! Citizens of Sar'dan! Great fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, sons, daughters, cousins, newphews, neices, great grandfathers and great grandmothers; you are the heart and soul of this City, and this is your victory! Through your passion and your love, your might and your courage, we live on! I have faith in all of you! I have faith in all of us to do what is necessary to be free of tyranny and fear! I want to hear it! I want to hear it! YES WE CAN!"

A deafening roar in reply met those assembledon stage.

"AGAIN!"

"YES WE CAN!" the City thundered.

"...Yes we can..." Erindor whispered, watching each and every single face, reveling in the silence. 

"We begin a new day, a new journey. I see the golden light of morning upon each, and every single one of your faces. Yes, every single one, I see you all. For every individual here is valued and has a place in my heart! Citizens of Sar'dan! I love this City! And I love every single one of you!" Erindor moved from one part of the podium to another, gazing out over the crowd as his voice rose and fell. He grew grave, stopping dead at centerstage, "It is with great humility and honor that I stand before you on this morning. The sacrifices made to protect the families of this great community will never be lost from memory. A life is something more important than the whole of us, yet each and every one of us is a life. We walk together, forward. FORWARD!" Erin paused and watched the faces of the people, "...Forward. TODAY I STAND BEFORE YOU BECAUSE OF THE GREATEST SACRAFICE WE HAVE ALL HAD TO ENDURE! And I stand before you with humility, and honor. The mantle of leadership is not a daunting one in my eyes, nor does it attract me zealously. I accept the responsibility with!-humility and honor."

He took a moment of silence, unmoving in his animated pose as his eyes met the gaze of thousands. "I am impressed," Erindor stated in his natural voice, the silence sufficient to have it carry nigh to the city walls themselves. "I am impressed, with all of you. This great family before me has demonstrated the very strengths of its core being; love, passion, respect, and peace. And it is of the greatest honor that our dear, late Lord Malias, hath requested of me to continue his dream and his passion. Let us now have a moment of silence for Lord Malias, Starlight dragon Illatrius, and all those who have fallen in past hours." Erindor clasped his hands and bowed his head, feeling more of a sea of calmness than of grief.

Zhenjai, standing behind Marthril, touched her nose to the ground. All in great precision again, Ajin, Cantilith and Avarath did the same, honoring the fallen heroes. The four waited for Erindor to continue.

Marthril himself also bowed in the great respect he held for his father. Thoughts raced back to the day his father had died with Illatrius and did his very best to hold back the grief, but tears escaped his eyes in the reluctance of being stayed.

Erindor remained as iron against his tumultuous emotions, but allowed a small glistening bead of a tear escape his right eye. The jewel glittered brilliantly in the morning light before he drew an audible breath and looked up at the crowd. "There will be time for grief, as well as ceremony and celebration to honor those who have served. However, now is not that time. Now is the time to pick our chins up and hold our heads high! Now is the time for celebrating our existence, and for our own victories! Find your kind smiles my sweet Kindred! For like the Pheonix we shall rise from the flames, and so shall this epic journey unfold as we discover our ancient future and craft legends through love and might. This, citizens of Sar'dan, is our day of transcendance!" Erindor roared passionately, throwing his arms out wide in his fervor.

He soaked in the ovation, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looked around at all the faces of Sar'dan's people. There wasn't a single face that belonged to a stranger here. "I know these faces!" he cried out, smiling generously, "I know your faces. You are my friends, and my family. I have faith in your strength, your willpower, and your compassion and understanding. My question to you is, is your faith with me?!"

There was a pause. It ached horribly for Erindor, watching the thousands of faces stare back at him in utter rapture, would they accept him as their leader? He closed his eyes a moment, straining his ears when something caught his attention. A great, low shuffling sound overcame the square. Erin opened his eyes, and the sight that met him etched itself into his memory in perfectly vivid detail. Before him, the citizens were kneeling. His mind skipped and asked itself a question, "To whom are they kneeling to?"

"You," Erador crooned with such pride in his voice Erindor felt a great wave of affection crash forth.

It was now Marthril's turn to decide what was to come and he knew exactly what. Smiling blissfully, he cried, directing his solemn words to Erindor, "Great Erindor! It is with tremendous pleasure that I, Marthril son of the former Lord Malias, name you King of Sar'dan's people and so I bestow upon you the royal sword Mercy, which has been passed down through our family for generations!" Marthril faced Erindor, and kneeling upon one knee with his head bowed, he raised his hands. He softly spoke words of the ancient language as he focused on the sword's current location. The atmosphere around his hands began to sparkle and glow; from it came Mercy in all her beauty, wrapped in green vines that bore magnificent, pale blue flowers. "In trust, loyalty, and love, we place our lives in your hands..." Marthril continued calmly, embracing the moment, but his next words became a loud pitch so all could hear. "Mercy was forged from brightsteel by my great, great grandfather Serenus and now, I lay her in your hands! Bear her well! HAIL! LORD ERINDOR OF SAR'DAN!"

The crowd of citizens repeated Marthril's last words, and cheered. "HAIL! LORD ERINDOR OF SAR'DAN!!" Behind the three on stage, Ajin, Cantilith and Avarath trumpeted, the sound overcoming the excited crowd.

Erindor wrapped his right hand over the ancient pommel and gripped hard, easily lifting the sword with his prodigious strength and held it horizontal above his head. He closed his eyes and soaked in this moment in time, reveling in the crowd's ovation as he heard his own name called in the voice of hope and confidence. "Thank you, Erador. I love you, Brother," he crooned, watching the scene from Erador's vision for a moment. His mind moved to Sincalia next, "I know this is a lot for you to adapt to. When I saw you last night in the Courtyard, I knew then why I loved you, and that I would never be alone again. Thank you for your courageous love and support," he crooned.

He opened his eyes again and sported a huge grin, "Thank you, Marthril! Thank you Ajin, Cantalith, and Avarath! THANK YOU CITIZENS OF SAR'DAN! HAIL THIS NEW DAY WITH YOUR NEW KING WELL!" he bellowed, drawing Valourne with his free hand and crossed the legendary blades together above his head in an 'X'. Erador gently nuzzled Mathril and Sincalia forward in line with Erindor as he moved onto the podium. He stepped in time with the beat of the drums, and with a smooth motion, rose onto his hind legs directly behind Erindor and spread his wings, letting loose a triumphant roar. The pair dissapeared in a nimbus of white light, one so pure it wasn't distressing to the eyes nor harsh on the skin. Mercy and Valourne burned brighter, throwing gentle shadows on their sinewous forms.

After being nudged into the center with Erindor and Sincalia by Erador, Marthril couldn't help but be slightly embarrassed by the position he was moved to. He wasn't used to being eyed by thousands of people, so he was rather glad that their focus was on Erindor's glory. Setting his feelings aside, Marthril began to clap, which led to the whole crowd to applause and cheer. Despite that the whole moment was absolutely wonderful and amazing to him, there was this little bit of sorrow tugging at his heart. Could it have been a joyful sorrow? He wasn't sure himself, but there was one thing that Erindor and Erador hadn't known and he wanted to make it known. Erador...there is something I have wanted to tell you, but you must keep it from Lord Erindor...please... Ever since my father died... you both have been like fathers to me more than friends or brothers... when I see you and Erindor, whether at battle or on the platform...just like here... you remind me of what my father used to be before the turmoil and it is as if he never left...

A deep harmonizing humm fell over the podium and washed across the plaza. Erador mentally smiled upon Marthril, snaking the tip of his brightly lit tail around Marthril's calf. "Little one, your words are moving. I am honored. I shall not tell Erindor if that is your wish and I do understand; perhaps at a later date in time you too can tell him yourself; he would greatly appreciate it as I do," he said, allowing emotions of gratitude and love to bathe Marthril's conciousness.

Marthril smiled, and sent a calm laugh to Erador. Thank you... and I will tell Erindor when I feel ready...right now.. it's just... I don't know... His smile faded during a passing thought, I don't know what he will think of it... but right now...my main concern is to help Erindor carry on my father's legacy... I want to give my service no matter the circumstances... and I want others to see my father within me... I... He shook his head to clear out his mind and then rubbed the side of Erador's neck. Maybe...I'm just letting the passed events get to me... I am just blissful that I have you and Erindor by my side... you both, the city, my father's dreams, and little Theria's wellness is all that matters to me now...

"We shall summon miracles to ensure the wellness of all," Erador replied strongly and confidently. The Emerald dragon's effulgent display softly ended as he dropped down to all fours again.

Erindor sheathed Valourne and Mercy in the scabbards he wore, spreading his arms wide once more. "Let us be together now in celebration..." Erindor began, and then proceeded to organize various relief efforts. As the citizens began to bustle to do as directed, Erindor pulled Sincalia into a passionate embrace. He broke to a hug before sweeping Marthril off his feet in a colossal embrace, "Thank you, my friend!" he said, setting the Elf down carefully before launching himself at Erador's leg. "We're close, Erador...we are close," he smiled.

Erador understood his meaning and crooned deeply.

"Alright...alright, I'm going to go help cook!" Erindor said, bounding off of the podium after handing Mercy to Sincalia.

Sincalia chuckled, "I do think Malias' choice of sucession was an oustanding one," she said, watching Erin frolic amoungst the citizens.

Marthril laughed and then gave Erindor a well-deserved bow. "You're welcome, my liege." He smiled warmly. "Any commands for me so i may serve you well?" Marthril folded his arms in his great patience; patience like his father. He was holding fast to the moments passing by and enjoyed the idea of serving Erindor.

"Its been rumored you can make a mighty hubble root soup, wouldn't you come join me in cooking a celebratory breakfast?" Erindor replied, currently helping to move great tables out into the square.

Marthril raised an eyebrow. "Really? It sounds like the citizens are ratting out on me." with that, Marthril let out another laugh. "Of course, I'll join you. Sounds a bit like fun."

Ar'rias flew in with Theria on his back. "Wonderful ceremony!" he cried. Then he landed in a free space that wasn't busy with little feet. "Theria and I watched it from the side hills. Anyways, care for some aid, Lord Erindor, hm? I should be able to do quite a bit, I should say."

Theria giggled as usual.

Erindor laughed heartily, wrapping his arms around Ar'rias' neck for a moment in greeting before letting go. "There's a great amount of tables and chairs that need to be moved to the plaza for the city's breakfast. Its a pity you two had to watch from afar, but I am heartened that you're here now," he smiled, rubbing Ar'rias' leg and smiled up at Theria.

Ar'rias shared the amusement with a chuckle. "And I'm heartened to be able to see you during a joyful time. All other times were like storms because of war. The Starlight dragon gave a deep yawn before lightly nudging Erindor's chest. "Good to see you, old chap!"

Theria waved down at Erindor. "Ar'rias, could you please help me down... I..I can't reach. I'm not big enough," she asked with her small voice.

Ar'rias raised his tail to her level. "Grab on, dear one." Once she had a hold of his tail, he lowered her to the ground where she got off. "There we go!"

In an instant, Theria gave Erindor a hug. "Erindor!" The seven-year-old giggled.

"Tables and chairs...Got it! Here I go!" Ar'rias lifted off into the air, roaring with his melodious dragon voice like his mother had. "Yes! Still got it. Tally ho!" Then he went on his mission for the tables and chairs.

Erindor laughed again as Ar'rias flew away, chuckling at his words. "Aww, dear Theria," he crooned, lightly stroking her hair before kneeling to pick her up. Erin set Theria upon his shoulder, "I've missed you."

Cantilith, Ajin and Avarath didn't know what to do, but prefered to help, rather than stand there as statues. It was Ajin who spoke to Erindor. 'How may the three of us be of help?'

Before, Zhenjai was padding softly behind Marthril, but then seeing her brother take wing to set up the furniture, she nuzzled Marthril softly on the arm. "I think I'd be of more use aiding Ar'rias." With Marthril's consent, she took wing herself, to meet her brother in the air. 'Wait up, brother!'

Theria giggled and clapped her hands joyfully.

"Zhenjai? Sister!! Follow me to the dining room! Tables and chairs!!!" Ar'rias laughed as he flew.

Erador intervened and pulled his wings over Ajin and Cantalith. "Come closer, the three of you," he smiled, beaming at Cantalith, Avarath, and Ajin in turn.

Erindor turned around and smiled when he saw Erador embracing the others, "You know...we actually do need a fair amount of meat for the upcoming celebrations. You four wouldn't mind using your formidable hunting skills to gather us some quarry?" He bounced Theria on his shoulder, easily keeping her safe there as he worked.

"I want to help!" Theria said blissfully.

Ajin, Avarath and Cantilith directed their attention to Erador as his large wings blanketed them. Cantilith shifted her weight to move a bit closer to him. Ajin, like a young human waiting to hear a secret, was attentive, waiting for Erador to speak again.

Cantilith smiled, "Of course, Master Erindor. I bid you well in the kitchen." She said, before shifting her weight again and looking back to the other three dragons.

"I am and shall be forever thankful that the three of you persevered. No more shall any one of us have to be earthbound by chains or lonesomeness, for we free each other. I hope we all become great friends, my sweet kin," Erador crooned affectionately, giving the three a squeeze with his wings. "Ahhh..." he sighed in complete content, and then his stomach interviened. "Oh my...shall we begin the hunt?!"

"Oh my dear Theria, of course!" Erindor bubbled in reply, gently setting her down to sit on the edge of a table. "Table cloths and many dishes need to be set out. Won't you lead that group of girls over there? It looks like they could use some direction and you'd be the perfect young lady to do it."

The three dragons smiled in turn, and agreed to the hunt. One by one the dragons lifted off the ground and were soon skyborn, flying toward the awaiting quarry.

Ar'rias was the first to reach the tables and chairs brought out by the city healers; even the castle gaurds had pitched in. Ar'rias siezed a chair with his great teeth and a table with all four feet and carried them back to Erindor was working. He dropped them onto the ground before retreating to get more.

Zhenjai followed behind her brother, lifting a table with her claws and two back-to-back chairs in her maw. She beat her wings and flew, returning towards the Halls where the feast would be held.

Once the tables and chairs were set, servants and healers scrambled to organize them and to set them into the right places for the celebrations.

Zhenjai back winged at set the last table neatly on the ground. "This place looks grand!"

"Oh, I must agree," Ar'rias replied contently.

The dragoness smiled. "Shall we hang the tapestries?"

Erindor trotted over with Theria securely on his shoulder, "Tapestries? Perhaps, would you two rather help move the large pots and assemble fuel for the cooking fires? We need a large central kitchen and buffet sort of system at the center of the courtyard, and have the chairs and tables organized thus; in cycles about the middle that is," he said merrily before bouncing away, relaying the commands to others.

A rippling flutter like a ship's sail in the wind broke the silence of gliding far above the forest. Erador had found his quarry and moved into a steep dive, making ready to collect a decent bounty of deer. "Cantilith, if you're nearby, route out the runners if you can!"

"I'm on it!" Cantilith replied to the great dragon. She swooped like an arrow across the courtyard and down to meet Erador. She took chase on all the frenzied, furry deer that had stranded their companions in an attempt at survival. With a collection on deer in her forearms and maw, the dragoness hovered above the land, waiting for Erador to surface.

Zhenjai responded, "Yes, my Lord!" And with a flutter of wings took off to gather more supplies.

Ar'rias made a roar that sounded more of a howl of approval. "Yes, sire!" and then he set off to work, organizing things and gathering things. He was surely on a helping frenzy for Erindor and Erador; however, when those duties were completed he set off for the royal Sar'dan tapestries and began decorating. When that particular job was done, he returned to Erindor, followed by a rush of wind, and landed gently on his hind feet, then placing down his front claws. Ar'rias was rather enjoying himself. "Anything else, my lord?"

Erindor reached for Ar'rias' cheeks and gently guided his head so that Erin could kiss him upon the brow. "Thank you," he said, releasing Ar'rias as he took a sigh and bounced Theria on his shoulder, "You may take a rest, or keep me company."

Ar'rias nudged Erindor lightly with a dragon-like smile. "You're welcome. I will accompany you, friend, and I can take Theria from you if you wish... to give you a break, I mean."

Theria laughed and looked Ar'rias straight in the eyes. "Oh, Ar'rias."

With a hearty chuckle, Erindor gave a great smile, "I could lift one-hundred and fifty Therias before I would need a break," he said, "perhaps you would like to carry her because you would wish to? What do you think about that, Theria dear?"

"Theria, it is your decision to make," Ar'rias said gently.

"Well... I think I'll rider Ar'rias's back for a little bit...I missed being with him," Theria said with an air of thinking.

"Grand," Erindor smiled, stopping and gently removed Theria from his shoulder. He gave a small stretch to place her atop Ar'rias' shoulders, his right leg moving forward quickly for stability as his tail twitched for balance. "There you are," he crooned, kissing the tips of his index and middle finger and gently placed them upon Theria's cheek. "You remind me of Erador when he was young," he said to Ar'rias, rubbing the side of his neck and shoulder with both hands respectively.

Theria giggled. "Ar'rias reminds you of a little Erador?" She petted Ar'rias' head.

"How so?" Ar'rias asked curiously before licking Theria on her soft cheek. He felt good to have his rider with him again and purred like is mother usually would when she was content by Malias' side.

"Just a feeling," Erindor said, resting his brow on Ar'rias' shoulder. "We're all so fortunate to have you two...just feels good to be around dragons and their young Riders again; feels like hope," he crooned, taking a step back and watched the affectionate pair.

Ar'rias nodded in Erindor's direction and grinned. "Aye. It is marvelous to be among a kingdom where all races unite under one banner. It is very comforting. Peace... it will be found soon."

Theria smacked the palms of her hands together. "I can't wait for the party!"

Erindor only nodded to Ar'rias comment, clearly agreeing with his statement of peace and toleration, but he felt the dragon had missed that he had been trying to convey how special they were to him, not just the kingdom. With a smile and a sigh, Erindor looked to Theria, "We're very close," he said, keeping an eye out for Ar'rias' other sibling. "I shall assemble the musicians, make yourselves comfortable!" Erindor said, bounding off with lithe grace and speed.

Ar'rias smiled with his scaley and fleshy, white lips, and then laid himself down in green grass. Yes, indeed it was comfortable. He loved the grass better than stone and gravel any day, even when it was raining or storming. While taking a little bit of relaxation, he enjoying listening to Theria's constant "yippies", "hurrays", and "yays". He laughed in his usual jolly self.

A great gong was struck thrice at the turn of the next hour signaling that the morning meal was ready. Groups of musicians and dancers had already eaten up and assembled equally around the great tables assembled for the citizens of Sar'dan. Erindor magically amplified his voice and stood at the square's center table where Marthril and other powerful people would be feasting, "The first meal is served! Eat your fill!" he said as chefs unveiled a smorgasbord of buffet items.

Marthril, after taking what he would eat, sat at the table and began feasting. It had been a long time since he had eaten food so delicious; the cooks had done a good job. Zhenjai, enjoy yourself. The food is excellent, he said softly to his wonderful dragon companion.

Ar'rias remained stationed in the grass where he was served slabs of meat for his meal along with a great dish of water and a separate one for wine.

"Are you feeling more confident, now?" Erindor asked Marthril as he sat down after Sincalia. Erin had shooed a group of people who demanded that they serve him. He had chosen to gather his food like everyone else and spend time with the citizens. He set his three plates down upon the table and tried to ignore the hungry clawing of his belly as he politely tucked in.

Smiling, Marthril nodded in Erindor's direction. "Indeed, that I am. I feel like I'm ready for anything now," he laughed. He took a light sip of the wine in front of him before letting out another laugh. "Things just won't be the same anymore, but Sar'dan needed a change."

Zhenjai let out a thrum of agreement and set it on the tender slabs of meat that had been set before her. 'Thank you, Marthril, I shall.' The dragoness then turned her head and smiled fondly at her Rider.

"It has been and will be a difficult transition for all of us, but we have proved our resilience and prowess. Though tonight we may grieve, tomorrow morning will bring us much elation. May the rest of our days mirror the upcoming joviality and eventually bring us out of the dark forests we tread in," Erindor replied, unabashedly setting an arm around Sincalia.

Erador maneuvered his way to Erindor's side, waiting to rest on his haunches only after flustered citizens raced to relocate tables. He had polished off a good helping of the game animals that were supposed to go towards the feast, and rested happily with a full belly. "There should be music..."

Shortly thereafter, deep drums brandished a heated beat as the center of the courtyard gave way from a collection of pots and buffet tables to a pavilion with dancers and entertainers. Many a ceremonial dance were held between Erindor and Sincalia amongst his flock of citizens, to which he was their Shepard now. More food and spirits fed an ever growing sense of elation as the Sar'dans danced, ate, and took shifts rebuilding homes and buildings.

It wasn't until the sun was setting a golden cast across the scene when Erindor pulled Marthril aside and had them walk to the gardens of the citadel. "It pains me to cast a somber mood to the day, but the time of parting is drawing nigh," he crooned, watching Marthril with empathetic, and sad eyes. "How should you like the ceremony to be held for your Father?"

Descending softly on the cobbled courtyard, Cantilith folded her wings and took a few steps to stand next to Erador. He was the thing she knew longest, and having lived in the wild so long, being around these bustling people was starting to become overwhelming. As soon as she was by his side though, the dragoness felt much better.

When Marthril left, Zhenjai bid him a silent fairwell, and paced through the crowd, smiling at the townsfolk, on a path set for her brother.

With a sigh, Marthril turned towards Erindor calmly. "My father would have liked it best if it was traditional. If a king or queen dies, Sar'dan would normally hold the ceremony in the Hall of Deceased Lord and Ladies. The body would be preserved with magic. On account of my uncle... because of his change of heart, he would still be considered great royalty. The people shall still honor him, not just because they have to but because of who he was before Dravescar took him. He was a kind and caring elfish man before his heart was forcefully turned against us. Also, before he was altered he had married Mavria." Marthril then turned his thoughts towards Zhenjai, sending her feelings of happiness through their connection. Zhenjai, enjoy yourself. Though, I also miss your presence. May we go for a relaxing flight if I gain permission from Lord Erindor? Marthril met Erindor's eyes and tried to smile. "My apologies, but before we continue on, I have a request. May Zhenjai and I have travel through the skies to clear our minds of sorrow before the ceremony?"

Through their mental link, Zhenjai gave a soft rumble of agreement. 'I miss you too, but remember, no matter what, I'll always be just a touch away. Yes, a flight would be lovely, it's been so long.' The dragoness smiled, her scales reflecting sunlight.

Erindor set an arm around Marthrils' shoulders as best as his height would allow, "Yes, of course you two may go. Clear your mind, but don't let your senses fail you," he advised. "I shall take care of all the formalities as to ease your burden, dear Marthril."

Withdrawing his hand, Erin strode a pace or two ahead facing a shattered fountain piece, "You may collect your clarity," he smiled, watching Marthril out of the corner of his eye.

Erador gently withdrew from Erin's mind after a wave of sorrow radiated from him. The Great Emerald Drake nuzzled Cantilith in acknowledgment, "I will need to help my brother in this...you may come along, but I warn you much sorrow is ahead," he crooned, wanting her comforting company.

In a slice of golden sunlight, Erindor vanished from the gardens and walked through the hallowed Hall. A chill went up his emerald spine as his thoughts wandered into their own mists, "One day, I too will be entombed here...".

Sar'dan's verdant Lord shook his head vigorously of the thought and called forth a dozen of the most trusted and faithful Guardians of the City. With magic and gentle hands, they readied the room for its most revered leader the City had ever been graced with. Rows of polished and gleaming pews striated the floor up to the focus of the room, while its columns and buttresses were covered in spiraling emerald ivy and white deep throated lilies. 

The Hall was at last suffused with a warm white aura, which was dimmed slightly before the ceremony would begin. Upon a raised marble dais and two beds of lilies laid Malias and Amrevar in regal repose, dressed in fine linens and silks...

Erindor only wished the Hall could accommodate Illatrius. His worries were for naught as he spied Erador under the burden of the fallen Starlight dragon's mass. For this Erin excused himself from the Hall a moment as sorrow ravaged his emotions again.

Erador had a beautiful plan as per Dragon culture, and arranged Illatrius with such care it looked only as if she were sleeping, curled up behind her dozing Rider. Again, lilies and ivy adorned her polished and gleaming scales, and peace pervaded her expression.

A gentle warm breeze caught Erindor's mane and tossed it gingerly over to the other side as he leaned his palms against a balcony rail looking down upon Sar'dan and its people. All was now in readiness for the heart wrenching farewell as people started entering the dimmed Hall. As it was, details beyond the first row of pews were in a gentle, sleepy sort of shadow...awaiting the entombment ceremony after loved ones had their time with the deceased.

"Mathril," Erindor called out from the City, "It is time."

Indeed, that it is, Marthril replied in a more serious tone than his usual. Once again his father's likeness showed purely in who he was and in his own image. He was proud that he was Malias' son, but now it became a time where he would fulfill his duty in ensuring that a proper ceremony was held for his deceased father....but... where was his mother? He found himself standing beside the benevolent Lord Erindor after he returned from his flight with Zhenjai. Zhenjai... are you prepared for this? The site of Illatrius, Malias, and Amrevar together brought tears to his eyes; however he knew that he needed to repress it... He had to be strong for the people, for if he was strong, the people would be strong. He always had to remind himself that the people's morale was well when both Erindor's and his was high. It all was very fragile since Marlayl was yet their prince. Being prince didn't matter to him though; it was the people, but yet so did Erindor and Erador... and Zhenjai. Where was Theria and Ar'rias?

"Sadness is not a form of weakness. As you may choose to blanket your emotions now, I would feel at ease if you would allow yourself to let them run their natural course," Erindor gently counseled Marthril, sensing his emotions and self consciousness. He set a hand on Marhtril's shoulders, his gaze beaming down warmly, "this too shall pass. As I'm sure Malias has already consoled, all will be better, in time."

Erindor patiently waited with Erador and Marthril by his sides as the citizens filled the Hall. They would wait until such a time that the commotion had settled and a moment of silence would pervade before the family and close friends of the deceased would enter from the head of the room.

"I would like to make an oration, if you'd find that acceptable by the laws of the ceremony," Erindor proposed to Marthril. "Afterward, the citizens will be able to say their farewells before everything is concluded. But, as is your right, amend anything you see fit."

"An oration is acceptable. Such is found as a necessity at ceremonies like this." Marthril nodded to Erindor. I must agree with your words, for they are just. In other words.... you are right. "Holondom..." Marthril smiled as he peered up at the sky in deep thought. He watched the cotton-like clouds for a moment before turning to Erindor again. "My father isn't truly dead. That much I know."

Cantilith watched as the fine emerald dragon vanished in the sunlight. The heavy feeling of sorrow was ever moreso apparent now, and she thought it best to give him a moment alone before returning to his side. She gazed up at the sunlight a moment, the intensity of it contrasting her scales with black and silver hues. She followed in Erador's footsteps and found him in the expansive room. Quietly she moved up beside him and gave him a consoling 'hug', passing her neck over his.

Ar'rias, Theria. Zhenjai spoke to them both. I have you know that it is time... The dragoness cut off the link before a river of sorrow flowed across the link, fueled by the dam of emotion in the room. Her breath was warm and soft on Marthril's face as she gently nuzzled him. I have informed Theria and Ar'rias... Her mind-link was comfortable, such as was nautral to a dragon-rider bond, but in this sorrow it was even greater. As though it was a drug that could possibly take away every sorrow now. Her mother lay there, beautifully adorned with ivy and lilies; Zhenjai's heart physically ached to behold what her eyes looked upon, however peaceful it may be.

Replying with a muffled coo, Erador was grateful for the wry smile that Cantilith's affection had allowed him. "Thank you for coming, but you don't have to stay if it becomes uncomfortable. No one will be offended. I do find your company to be...very helpful," Erador said to the dragoness, heaving a sigh afterwards as the emotional atmosphere rudely pushed its way back into his conciousness.

Erador's gaze cast down to Zhenjai, and he had to restrain a surge of patriarchal protective feelings. He merely nuzzled her neck, letting her know he was there for support.

"Very good then," Erindor replied to Marthril. "I had the Priests review the specific rights and sermons. Afterwards you may have all the time you need for your words. Others who wish it may speak only after you."

A gentle hush settled over the occupants of the room as all the shuffling and pardons had arranged the citizens upon the pews.

"The people are in readiness. We should fill our places," Erador advised, standing in the process.

Erindor briefly explained that Erador and the other drakes were to line the sides of the Hall in front of the first row of pews, a row reserved for family and close friends. "After you," Erin said to Marthril.

Zhenjai quickly let her mental block fade to thank Erador for the comfort, but then returned it to it's place to try and ease the pain of everything around.

Cantilith stayed by Erador's side, uncertain of all the going-abouts. She thought she heard an order for everyone to sit asignedly, but wanted to wait for the emerald dragon to relocate first. She glanced at him, shifted her weight and stayed by his side.

Marthril stepped up to the front, allowing tears to soak his face. However, his voice remained strong and was capable of being heard among everyone who attended the ceremony. "We are here to honor Lord Malias, my father, who died for Sar'dan and her people. He gave his life to save ours and one other life in particular of which he magnificently succeeded... My father spent countless hours ensuring the protection of this city, making certain that the precious souls within would come to no harm. With all his heart he loved this city as if she was but a daughter to him. He did what he could tp provide for the needs of the people despite sme of the difficult situations we had to withstand. Even in the most darkest of happenings he never gave up on us. He could of just abandoned us in our most crucial time of need, but he didn't. He was valorous, yet humble. My father did what was right, expecting nothing in return. He never fled from a battle no matter how wounded he had become or no matter how numerous the enemy was or how frightening. The only thing he ever feared was that one day he might lose the city to malevolant kings... and that never came to pass, for he fought his hardest to defend our homes... It was his mercy for others and his perseverance... that saved us from a hell like none other. Remember Lord Malias the Radiant-hearted... Lord Malias the Righteous!" He laid his hands on the balcony railing, keeping in mind the name of his deceased uncle. "There... is yet four more I wish to honor this night... Does anyone recognize the name Lord Amrevar the Relentless? Or Dragon Drazon the Terrible? I know that you have memories of the terror they once upon our beautiful land of Agarsenus... but listen to me... evil is not how their lives ended... How I heard it... it was Drazon who was the first to come to the light and fell in love with our beloved Illatrius who loyally died beside her rider... Amrevar... my uncle...became righteous when his wife last returned to him... He fell into the void, murdered with poison by his sinister twin brother Morac... Mavria... was slain by my grandfather Dravescar... you all should remember that horrid name... For generations our family was trapped in the darkness beginning with my Drow ancestor Allacore Malduhn! It was finally broken! My father and my uncle was part of the tenth generation of our family name. Then there was Morac the Terrorizor and Lady Iris the Dark Huntress! It was all due thanks to my father, Amrevar, Drazon, and Illatrius that Sar'dan still stands... and Lord Erindor and Erador who fought beside them..." He turned and gave a light smile towards the new lords of the city before returning his gaze back to the crowd. "But the fight's not over! We will continue on in their name! It was because of them we're still alive!! So please, take heart! Stay strong for my father and his valiant dragon Illatrius!! Celebrations will be held for them down through the years until this world crashes in itself."

Erindor encouraged a momentary ovation for Marthril's encouraging words and powerful promises for never ending celebration. He then took to waiting an appropriate amount of time for Marthril to continue.

"I feel so, out of the loop, and yet the sadness is so stifling; I feel as if I've known these individuals all of my life," Sincalia noted to Erin, clutching his hand tightly within hers.

"You did not have to attend, but I am very heartened you did," Erindor cooed in reply, kissing Sincalia on the temple before shifting his eyes back to Marthril. "Thank you."

"What would a new promise be if it didn't have the proper support?"

Erindor allowed himself an inaudible chuckle.

Marthril's captivating words had the room waiting, nay, wanting to hear more. A respectful patience pervaded with reverence.

The Elven prince continued his speech for at least another twenty minutes before allowing Erindor to take his turn. "My Lord Erindor..." he said softly. "You may carry on..." Marthril smiled, widespreading his left arm out to let his companions know what was going on. "I have finished but... I believe the people await your speech with a longing unmatched. Take your stage and grasp their hearts like you have touched mine with the words needed to boost their moral to even greater heights." Lowering, his arm, he backed up. The people were watching closely, curious of what their new lord would say.

Erindor rose with a serious grace, moving his way to Marthril's side. "Thank you, dear Marthril, for your words. May peace ease your spirit."

Turning to face the sea of stricken faces, a palatable hush fell over the hallowed Hall. A deep sigh relaxed the binds upon his heart and let his emotions soften his serious exterior. His breath did not shudder, nor his voice falter as he began, "Victory often has a bitter bite to its sweet nectar. But it is not often that it poisons so. So we nurse the wounds, and hope they won't leave a scar. We nurse these wounds so to preserve the loving memory of the individuals of all who have given their lives so that we may live on as a people!"

"Among these emotions that have reddened our eyes, stained our cheeks, and tightened our chests reigns a golden few; respect, reverence, and gratitude. It is because of the sacrifices of our loved ones we may still continue our realm so as to ensure the laughter of children, the excitement of discovery, and the joy of love. We are here today to honor and give gratitude to those who ensured our dreams may fly again!"

Erindor paused to draw a silent breath, his arms and hands relaxing at his sides. "Of the greatest martyrs this city has seen, Lord Malias and his beautiful dragoness, Illatrius have given more than just their lives. Their light has been our brightest beacon, our ray of hope, our strength. Their friendship has been..." Erin paused, his lightly stinging eyes drifting over Malias and Illatrius in turn, "...unparalleled. From Illatrius' enigmatic wisdom, wit, and strength to Malias' attentive ear and advice, they were profound in all that they did. I consider myself supremely fortunate to have been allowed the opportunity to serve their cause and earn their friendship and respect, as they have earned mine."

Another deep breath.

"Lord Malias and Illatrius have been many things for the sake of this City and every one of its blessed citizens. To me, however they have been that and more. They have been my mentors, my guardians, my consolers, and my friends. They allowed me into their lives, and I couldn't have asked for a better way to know them."

Lord Erindor raised his head, his fortitude solid and smooth, "We all knew them as our friends, our Guardians, and our unfaltering leaders! Perseverance and care have been taken to great measures so that they could preserve everything they had lived for and built. And they have succeeded! For every one of your precious lives is a token to their own and their service and leadership to us! I give every iota of my thanks to Lord Malias the Wise and Illatrius the Radiant!"

---

Lady Theria and her loyal dragon Ar'rias forgot all about the ceremony that was being held for her father, mother, and uncle. Their curiousity led them back into the forests of the wilderness where the trees grew twice their usual size and where things never seemed what they should. Everything was dark and mysterious as they took a hidden path only to find out that it came to a mystical shrine. There was this stone platform with dragon etchings and all phases of the moon. Surrounding it were tall pillars, bearing roaring dragons on the flat of their tops. Greens vines and ivy plants spiralled and wrapped around them like some kind of wild scene, yet holding still in the calm of the day. White doves crowded on the platform, pecking at the bugs and cooing as if minding their own business. Upon seeing the newcomers, they flew off all at once into the sky; only one of them remained staring over at Theria and Ar'rias as if wondering why they were here. Little Theria was so excited about the dove that she ran over to the platform to befriend the small creature. The dove still did not flee, however it allowed the elf girl to hold him in her palms. The dragon lightly nudged the small animal with a joyful smile on his lips. Why do you not flee, little one? he asked gently.

Because... I am not what I seem, honorable dragon who is the son of Illatrius and Drazon. Honestly... I have been waiting for you. I know that you are expected at a current ceremony for your relatives, but what I have for you is so much more promising. Why go to a funeral when you can see your loved ones all the day? the dove replied smoothly. Please do not fear me. When you see my true form realize that I am not your enemy. Rather I am your friend... your companion... your True Gaurdian. The petite bird fluttered down to the ground and transformed into a massive white dragon who glistened in the light of the sun. He raised his head high, staring down at them with brilliant, blue eyes. He was larger than any dragon Theria had ever seen. He was beautiful with a matchless grace and a voice that was soft.

Theria and Ar'rias gazed with wonder at the dragon before them. for a few moments they were speechless. "Who are you?" Theria asked in both curiousity and amazement.

"My name, young one, is Holondom, God of Dragons and of all life. I shall not hurt you, for you are under my protection until you have grown, little ones. My faithful servant shall train you in the art of war and magic. I know you are still small Theria, but because of the times you live in I feel I must thoroughly ensure your training." The glorious dragon made a sincere smile, turning his head towards the forest. "Jarmanias, come forth, for you are most needed now."

A red draconian, wearing full body armour and a dragon necklace came into view with a great crimson dragon. Together they looked like an ominous pair who could burn down lands with their fury alone. Taking off his helmet, he bowed respectfully to them. "Princess Theria, Dragon Prince Ar'rias.... it is good to at last meet you."

"Young ones... behold the Forgotten Dragon and Dragonrider of the Histories. I give you Jarmanias the Just and Domitore the Valorous." Holondom stepped back, not even sending the slightest tremor through the fragile ground.

Theria just stood in amazement, but brought up a cheerful smile on her face. "Wonderful!" she shouted happily. "It's good to make your aquaintance! I feel so special!" She continued with a curtsy and then let out a giggle.

"My goodness!" Ar'rias bursted out in bewilderment and then lowered his head and the front section of his body in a bow. "You grace us, Master Jarmanias and Master Domitore!"

Jarmanias only shook his head with a grin. Chuckling, he replied, "Please, young ones, do not bow. We are no more than servants to you. We may be your temorary masters, but we are not of royalty." He carelessly tossed his helmet aside before drawing his claymore from its large sheath that was strapped to his back. He stuck the fine blade of his weapon into the earth so it would stand up straight. Gazing over at the pair, he fingured the hilt of the claymore, smiling with pride. "I a honored to be able to mentor those of such beautiful heritage."

After a joyful roar, Domitore hummed contently. "Are you prepared for your surprise? They will help us train you, for they know you better than us. Honestly, you yourself will be quite shocked when you discover who they are..." The red dragon laughed heartily. "Though... they are only spirits... for now... until the Great Battle of the histories... which will take place 28 years from now... Can you guess who they might possibly be?"

Theria frowned sadly for a few moments as her and Ar'rias shared memories between each other, reflecting back on the days of pain and sorrow. "Daddy... mommy... uncle... lady dragon...drazzy...?" The small girl ran over quickly to Domitore, peering up into the dragon's deep, red eyes in search of proof if his words were of truth.

"Yes, young one. Your father Amrevar, your mother Mavria, your uncle Malias, dragoness Illatrius, and your father's dragon companion Drazon," Domitore assured her, his heart becoming warmed. "Dear one... are you ready to see them again?"

"But... they... how!?" Theria plopped down on the ground in confusion. "They... they..." Tears overflowed in her eyes as she thought about them. "They died... how? You can't bring them..."

---

"And my report is this: The eggs are not within the infirmary either, which brings me to the conclusion that someone has been specifically chosen to keep an eye on them in case such likes as ourselves appear to take the eggs behind their backs; someone rather loyal and trusted among the Sar'dans. Malias and Illatrius is dead and Marthril has other duties to tend to...like tending to Erindor's crowning ceremony... if you saw... Because Rider Erindor and Dragon Erador have now been named the new gaurdians of the Elf city, this means that they possibly are protecting the eggs, but Erindor is busy with Sar'dan's monarch politics, so that leaves Erador...as the watcher of our target... Erador bears the eggs at the current moment. After the ceremony, he will have to keep his eyes on them in the chambers of his master. So, I've overheard from the healers, that there is to be a funeral for Malias, Illatrius, and Amrevar and a wedding for Erindor and some draconian woman I could not quite get the name of...All this takes place the morning of tomorrow. During that time is the perfect opportunity to steal the black egg. What say you?" Zenixus came in suddenly, holding the infant child in his arms.

All of Zenixus's information and thoughts were very convincing for morac upon deciding the best choice of action. Nodding in his advisor's direction, he grinned. "Indeed... I to go for this idea..." He pondered a moment. "Zellor'ox, this means we will have to stay longer than hoped. We have no other choice. I shall not return to my kingdom empty-handed of a single egg. We must remain here until our task is complete, understood?"

Zellor'ox let out a rumble and a growl that transformed into a snarl. Fine...ONLY night. Tomorrow we leave!

Night passed over swiftly, allowing the light of day to pass over and enlighten the world, but is was a red dawn, bearing no promise for the victims of the sinister ones. Morac, Zenixus, and Zellor'ox had not slept that night. They were plotting their ways of capturing the child and one of the eggs. When they were finished, it was then that they dispersed and set out for their destinations, leaving Zellor'ox behind to defend their post. What Zenixus said the day before was proven to be true and their quest to kidnap was successful. They returned back to Gulvaque, bearing no remorse for their misdeeds.

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