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The Chronicles of Starlyn (Calthoria Chronicles Book 1) Page 4
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She glanced at the twilight sky, a full moon filled the horizon. She smiled. It would be a perfect time to begin the sacrifices with a dragon. She found one of the creatures who had trouble creating handles without breaking them.
“Come with me. I am in need of assistance,” she said.
“Yes, misstresss.”
The dragons were a primitive species. They never questioned her. A lot of them would quibble, killing each other over disputes. None of them noticed if one went missing or died. They didn’t seem to care. They were unorganized and leaderless. She planned to change that. All of them respected her, she was stronger than them—had defeated several of the creatures. Loyalty had been won. They were afraid of her. She planned to keep it that way.
Inside the forest, Arria found a stump she knew would do nicely. She gestured for the dragon to step onto it. The creature squinted one of its eyes as wrinkles appeared on its jaw, appearing confused, but followed her without question.
She studied the creature’s black scales and reptile frame. It amazed her how the creature appeared similar to the dragons of kheshlarn history books. They weren’t as large, didn’t breathe fire that she saw, nor did they have wings. She wondered if they were related to the dragons of old. Arria didn’t know what to call the creatures. She had been unsuccessful when asking what they were.
“Masster, what iss you wissh of mee?” the creature asked.
Arria grinned devilishly. “You are to be my sacrifice.”
“Sackkrifice?
Stepping forward, she reached for the creature’s neck with her right hand. With the incredible strength her power flowed through her, she lifted it up, slamming it onto the stump. Its tail thrashed as she held the creature down. She let go of its neck, back-handing the creature with her left hand. Arria unsheathed a dagger from her side. She had shaped it the same way as her flamberge but smaller.
The black book hadn’t been detailed on how to make the sacrifice. Only the enchantment of the words seemed to matter. The book stated she had to drink some blood, but there had been nothing in particular about how to kill. She pondered it for a moment. There were so many different ways she could kill. Her strength surpassed any single creature. Kheshlars were strong, much stronger than humans—or so she had been led to believe. She became much stronger now as strength trickled into her. Ever since she first used black magic to try and save her mother, she became stronger. Her emotions changed as well. Hate controlled her. She hated the kheshlars—all of them, except her mother and sister. Long ago, she never had thoughts of killing. Now, she could think of many different ways to kill.
She could slice the creature’s belly, and watch all of its intestines fall to the ground. Or, she could slice its stomach, grab its intestines, circle them around the creature’s throat, and choke it with its own insides. She admired that one, the creativity of it was simply dazzling. Slicing its neck would be too easy; besides, it had too many similarities to decapitating someone. She had already done decapitation with the previous three. She had broken the necks of the first few she met. Arria considered carving out the creature’s heart, shoving it down its throat after it died. She smiled at the thought, but knew she needed the heart for the ritual. She needed to remove the heart from the creature, lay it on the stump, and stab into the center of it as she chanted the words. No, damaging the heart before it became time would not do.
She imagined slice the creature’s head open, removing its brain. Arria wondered how small the creature’s brain would be. She refused to believe the creature had a brain as large as hers. She wondered what took up so much space in their large skulls. In her mind, she debated carving one of their brains to study it.
After careful consideration, she finally decided what she planned to do. She held the creature down, stabbed into its abdomen, slicing toward its chest. She reached her hand through the wound, grabbed its intestines, ripping them out. She smiled as she wrapped the intestines around its throat. Once she tied a knot, she used her knife to carve into the skull. Its skull was thick. She had to saw the bone to reach its brain.
When she reached the brain, she realized it fit into her palm. She grabbed it, feeling its hard texture in her palm. A part of her wanted to smash it, crushing it in her hand, but she decided on a better course of action. Instead, she pulled the creature’s jaw open, shoving the brain into its throat. It no longer moved, in fact, she believed it hadn’t twitched for a while. Between all her excitement, she hadn’t been sure when its last breath had been. Disregarding her fondness of tearing apart its flesh, she resumed work on carving out the heart.
Once she had the heart in her hands, she tossed the body aside to let it rot. She didn’t care if any of the other creatures found it. She didn’t believe any of them would think she did it, if any did, they may fear her even more.
She laid the heart on the stump, raising her dagger high.
“Averee liveranna tasch errr scoone, esithur channl presnnal.”
The heart had been green at first, but turned lavender after her spell. She closed her eyes, stabbing the dagger into the center of the heart. Purple swirls of magic came from the heart, rushing into Arria’s body.
Her body spasmed as power surged through her. It became enlightening, empowering. With the new power she imagined she could do anything. Arria wondered if she could jump into the air and fly. It felt absolutely wonderful. She understood from that moment forward, her power had no bounds.
Arria would wait until the next full moon before killing another. Until then, she planned to sacrifice small animals who did not matter. She needed to keep her ventures into the forest secret. With the great power that surged from the creature, she wondered how much more a kheshlar had. It intrigued her. She began to crave to see the death of one. She wanted her sister alive, wanted to save her mother, but any other kheshlar would do. Arria thirsted for it.
Arria cleaned herself from blood, finding a nearby stream to bathe herself. She left her armor at the riverside bank. She washed the blood, watching as the clear water took on the color of violet and green from blood and magic. Arria grinned as she leered at the stained water.
She felt at peace now. Arria searched her entire life for something to make her happy. She had no idea what it would be, until now. Anger filled her soul, anger for how the kheshlars treated her mother, anger for not helping find a cure. Even anger for all the laws. She prepared to march to Sudegam after training the dragons further. The kheshlars would pay. She planned take her mother away, and destroy any kheshlar who got in her way. She planned to enjoy the torment, the pain, and the prosecution. They caused her so much pain. Everything made perfect sense now. There were enough dragons to distract Sudegam while she got her mother. Everything became so clear now.
When she returned to the camp, everything was chaotic. Dragons rampaged around, snapping at each other and fighting. Arria picked up an axe, whistling. All of the creatures stopped fighting, spinning to face her.
“I will train you how to fight. Pick up your axes,” she said.
They glanced at one another before staring at her. The axes were strange to them. They’d only ever used their claws.
“Fight me,” she said.
Three of them stepped forward, unarmed.
“Stop!” she yelled. “Pick up your axes.”
They reluctantly picked up the axes, coming toward her. She twirled the axe in her hands, smiling.
“Fight me with your weapons,” she said.
The creatures rushed forward to attack. Their attacks were sloppy, unfocused. Arria blocked the strikes with ease, knocking one of the creatures to the ground. The other two dragons leapt forward, blinded by rage, attacking Arria in a fury. She blocked each dragon’s strikes with proficiency. They came at her stronger than before, but Arria blocked effortlessly, lunging her axe into the skull of one of them. It squealed before collapsing onto the ground.
The first creature she knocked to the ground tackled her. As she fell, she twisted her wr
ist, embedding the axe into the creature’s back. Arria rolled to her feet, ripping the axe from the shrieking dragon. One particular dragon, shorter than the rest with a long scar that ran eye to snout caught on to her pattern and slowed its attacks. The dragon, no longer impatient, exchanged blows evenly. This creature impressed Arria. She gripped the axe with her hands, quickly knocking the weapon from the dragon’s grasp. Arria thrust the axe forward, holding it inches from the dragon’s skull.
“Anymore?” she asked. “Is there anyone else?”
A dozen creatures came toward her, excited for a fight.
“You must learn how to use these weapons. You must learn the skill it takes, the patterns, the fighting style, or you will never better me. What do you think you could possibly do to the kheshlars, to the humans, to all the other races of this land if you can’t even defend yourself against me? I am only one. Do you wish to take this land?”
Arria threw down the axe, unsheathing her flamberge. One by one the creatures came forward to fight. And one by one, she disarmed them. She spared their lives, but tossed them aside one at a time. After a while, they learned to to defend themselves. They started attacking successfully. Her perfect armor began to get dents.
A grin spread across Arria’s serene face. At last … they were learning.
Chapter Seven
They hadn’t seen anymore creatures, which should have been a good thing, yet Starlyn’s mind became unsettled, worrying about what had happened. It seemed too quiet around her. The other kheshlars talked among themselves, but she stood alone near the edge of camp, pondering on her thoughts. Starlyn needed to be alone. She wanted to go for a walk, but Vil’ek didn’t want any of them wandering off by themselves.
Draenur strode over, smiling. “Vil’ek told me you need some fresh air. Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere, I just want to walk,” Starlyn said.
Draenur nodded. Together they left the camp. Starlyn grew concerned when she noticed around her nature had become quiet when they strayed from camp. Birds weren’t chirping, even the bugs grew still. It chilled her bones to be in a forest of silence. Normally at least the crickets or locusts could be heard.
She continued to wander, hoping to hear something, anything—the silence became unbearable. Starlyn never liked silence. When young, Starlyn learned silence meant her sister disappeared off on another adventure. She spent a lot of time alone. Silence unnerved her.
Trees were thinner when they were near Sudegam. All the plants were a bit different as well. The bushes were yellow and red with large leaves. Starlyn missed the scent of pine.
They moseyed through the silent forest, Starlyn in front, and Draenur following close behind. Running water splashed against rocks in the distance, causing Starlyn to stop in her tracks. Curiosity and thirst overcame her as she listened.
She strode twice the pace as before. Draenur struggled to keep up with her.
“Doesn’t it seem a little too quiet out here?” Starlyn whispered.
“I haven’t been listening. I concerned myself with watching you.” Draenur said.
Starlyn blushed, knowing the kheshlar was attracted to her. “Where are the birds or insects?”
Draenur paused. “I hear water.”
“I do now, but I wonder why it’s the only sound. Now I’m drawn to it with thirst.”
Starlyn pushed through bushes to find a small stream. She smiled as she treaded toward it. Starlyn paused to cup her hands and drink from the stream. She decided to follow the stream, curious where it went.
“Shouldn’t we be getting back? We’re getting far from camp,” Draenur said.
“Relax, Draenur. You worry too much.”
His shoulders slumped, his lips scrunched together, and he nodded.
Starlyn shrugged, continuing to follow the bends of the stream. At the end of the stream rested a calm lake. The only defined sound had been the stream flowing into the lake. Starlyn studied the lake, noticing no insects or fish.
Draenur stood behind her, sighing. “Is this what you’ve been searching for?”
“I do not know. It feels like it’s been searching for me.”
Starlyn sat on the bank, watching the calm water. She didn’t understand why everything seemed so lifeless.
“Why are we here?’ Draenur asked.
“I don’t know. It feels peaceful, but something is wrong,” Starlyn said.
“I don’t like this, we need to go back.”
“Are you frightened?” she asked.
“Something feels strange.”
Starlyn studied the lily pads—half expecting to find frogs, but disappointed when she found none. She heard a flutter of wings before turning to see the translucent wings of a dragonfly.
It circled the lake once before landing on a lily pad at its center. Starlyn watched the beautiful green dragonfly with interest. She felt relieved to see life in the forest. The dragonfly fluttered its wings on the lily pad for a moment, until the lily pad moved, creating ripples in the water, making the dragonfly twitch.
A large jaw appeared out of the water, resembling an alligator, snapping shut over the dragonfly. Its yellow eyes stared at Starlyn for a second before it disappeared back in the water.
Starlyn stumbled to her feet as she backed away from the lake. She bumped into Draenur who unsheathed his sword as his eyes focused. Starlyn raised her hammer, studying the lake in front of them. Four pairs of eyes popped up from the water. Starlyn tightened her grip, taking two steps back.
Four hands came out of the water, but they weren’t alligators. They were the dragons. Starlyn turned around, noticing five more approaching them from behind. They each wielded axes.
Draenur charged them with his sword raised, moving it around like a blade of grass in an indecisive wind. Two fell by Draenur’s hand as Starlyn defeated a third—using her hammer to crush its skull.
Before they finished the last two, the four from the lake sprang upon them. Weary, Starlyn lost her balance. A creature knocked the hammer from her grasp. Draenur’s fight ended a few seconds later when an axe severed the hand holding his sword from his body.
Starlyn held her hands in front of her, carefully moving them behind her head. She glanced to Draenur who gritted his teeth. One of the dragons knocked him in the back of the head. He fell unconscious. Starlyn dropped to her knees, staring at the ground.
“I surrender,” she said.
Chapter Eight
Arria sat on a throne of gold inside of an enormous black tent. Months had passed of her training the dragons combat. The gold had been useless for making weapons, besides, a few of the dragons had gotten restless. They waited on her hand and foot, which she had been thoroughly enjoying. It had been as close to a palace as she could get with the creatures.
She sat, eating salted pork with corn. At first, she refused meat since she had been cautioned against it most of her life. After living several hundred years as a vegetarian, she expected to find meat disgusting. She had been brain washed meat was a wasted life. The creatures refused take no for an answer, bringing it to her fully cooked instead. She supposed it would be better than the raw meat they brought her before. Arria decided to try it. It had a pleasant taste, surprising her. Even though she had no pulse—she needed food for energy.
Arria grew curious how other meats tasted. She always heard tales of savage humans eating meat, but the more she thought about it, the more odd it became to forbid it. Bears and tigers ate meat, but the kheshlars didn’t prosecute or punish them. Arria had always wondered why the kheshlars were different than human or beast. Before trying it—she had no desire to try meat. It became a craving for her after the first bite. It gave her more strength and energy than her previous diet.
The kheshlars spent a lot of time preserving life, making themselves weaker. They didn’t need as much protein as animals or humans, but Arria noticed a difference. She chose to no longer live in their lies.
Her tent door sprung open, allowing flash
ing, blinding light into her eyes. She lost her temper. It irritated her when the creatures didn’t give warning. Their impatience became frustrating, but she knew it had been something she chose to life with.
“Misstress, there is—”
Arria slammed her flamberge across the dragon’s neck, watching as its head tumbled to the ground. She grinned as she watched it roll into the foot of the second creature. The dragon’s jaw fell agape, its eyes bulging.
“You will speak when spoken to, not before. I am to be treated with respect,” Arria said.
The second dragon nodded, waiting with wide eyes—its body twitching.
She smiled, clearing her throat. “Yes, what is it?”
“Wee havve a prissonerr.”
“Who?” she asked. “Speak.”
“Wee havve khesshlarrss. Surrennderred.”
The dragon turned to the entrance, bringing a bound male kheshlar into the room, tossing him to the ground.
“A gifft,” the dragon said.
“Mmmhm,” Arria purred.
She grabbed the kheshlar’s hair, forcing him to meet her eyes as he trembled on his knees.
“Are there others?” Arria asked.
“Onne.”
“Take me to him.”
“Herr.”
“Take me to her,” she said.
Arria followed the creature from the camp into a hole underground. Inside was dark, but Arria grabbed a torch at its entrance. Spider webs covered the cavern walls and bats hung from the ceiling. It had been silent, except for their footsteps.
The creature stopped in front of a stone door before taking a few steps back. Arria opened the door, peering inside. On the ground lay a kheshlar, bound and naked. Arria’s mouth dropped open upon realizing her sister lay naked on the ground. Arria covered herself with her cloak. With her black skin, hidden face and body, she hoped she could pass for a female of the horrid creatures. She hoped the guise would fool her sister. She knew Starlyn was smart. Even if Arria fooled her today, it wouldn’t be for long.