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Chapter I:
A Death Wish
Crouching in a dry creek-bed, Ryath surveyed his targets. Five lengths away two persons sat, bathed in morning sunlight. The one to his left; a slender young girl with flowing blue hair, and icy silver eyes, was his sister, Saleena. The one to the right, however, was a tall boy, with matted black hair and dark green eyes—he was Zaul, Saleena’s latest suitor, but not for long. Ryath opened his satchel. It contained an assortment of rotted vegetables that he had “borrowed†from some local pig troughs. He picked out a particularly putrid tomato, spat on it and threw it at the boy.
Splat. It hit him right in the face. Saul was shocked for several blinks, as was Saleena. Ryath then took on an evil grin, choked back a laugh, and began to hail them with fistfuls of the rotted veggies. Saul, his face as red and acidic as the mush that coated it ran towards him, and time seemed to slow to Ryath as he counted down. Five, four—the furious youth leapt across the dell, eating up the distance between them. Three, two—The mischievous boy rolled into the creek bed, covering his eyes and ears with cloth from his tunic. One!
The world exploded into action, dust and smoke blew in on the back of the northern wind, but most notably was the smell; the same that nearly incapacitated poor Saul who got the full blast of the bombs. The assault was resumed, and Saleena screamed as her blouse was hit by a handful of cherries. Ryath couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing, giving away his position through the smoke. Saleena charged at him screaming,
“YOU’RE GOING TO DIE YOU LITTLE— she slipped on a spoiled cabbage, still three lengths away. That was his cue; he threw his satchel in her direction and scrambled up the creek, struggling not to laugh again, for he would need every bit of strength to outrun his rampaging sister.
* * *
“Ryath is going to pay!†Saleena mumbled under her angered breath, pulling on the hems of her ruined dress. She ran after him, tripping over the demon’s makeshift battlements. Sifting through all the black spells she knew, she sought the most painful her memory held. Her killer pace slackened as the pain of the brutal rocks combined with thin soles ate at her feet. Saleena stopped suddenly as the creek fell into a drop-off into the ground. She examined the ground and spotted her brother’s footsteps disappearing into a sinkhole.
Her chanting filled the air and the faint tingle of magic leaped from her lips. It was a minor curse, one of bad luck and minute discomforts. She sealed it with his name and stepped off the creek, removing her frayed shoes. Time was short, she had better return to the village.
* * *
Ryath looked out from his hiding place, a small alcove hidden under a large tree. He knew every leaf of these woods by memory from the trench in which he was hiding, all the way to the Abby. Knowing that there was no place around devoid of leaves he was confident he would hear his sister coming, if she had even given chase. Sensing that there was no one nearby he let his mind wander.
He was small for his age, even though he was approaching adulthood Ryath still had yet to go through his growth spurt. His hair was naturally white with blonde highlights, and was always matted for it tamed for no comb. His namesake was after one of the greatest of the Dragon Lords, Ryath Son of Kuall, a Gold Dragon.
Thinking over the past few sets, he began to notice a trend; it seemed that he has been getting more and more daring lately, like he had a death wish or something… Ryath pondered at this new development for a while his mind hazing over in his idleness.
He woke with a start. Ryath cursed loudly, he had been here much too long; the sun had already begun to set. Shaking off his fatigue, he crawled out the crevice. Still angry with himself Ryath took off towards home.
Several phases later, lost and fatigued, Ryath stopped to catch his breath in a small clearing. He had set off too late, the darkness teased and deluded his attempts at navigation. Frustrated, he scanned the horizon. To his left he glimpsed something shimmer in the moonlight. He ran towards it, hoping against hope that it was the Abby. He stopped gripped with awe. There was a small depression in the ground devoid of dead leaves and grass, and in the center stood a silver triangular pillar about chest high, but the most astonishing was the object on top; a Dragon Scale with a brilliance Ryath had never seen, and it seemed unmarked with age. He stepped closer, the ground shifted beneath his feet, but Ryath did not notice as he was too entranced by the object in front of him. As he stepped into the depression the details became clearer: the pillar was covered in what looked like to Ryath as Ancient Draconic, and encrusted upon the Golden Scale was a Ruby with the same brilliance, in the shape of the Dragon Lords Crest—a dragon encased in a shimmering sphere. Ryath, still entranced by the wondrous Scale took ahold of it and pulled. It gave way almost immediately. Suddenly the cool silver pillar rippled and liquefied in front of his very eyes. An acrid smoke rose from it and curled around Ryath smothering him. He desperately fought to breathe, but the smoke did not dissipate. Suddenly the ground lurched forward and his head met the rocky entrance rebounding to another unyielding surface, and he knew no more…
* * *
Meanwhile, unable to sleep, Saleena slipped on her nightgown, and snuck outside for some air. Something was wrong she could feel it. Something … … missing. Suddenly it struck her. Ryath! He still had not returned home, as far as she knew. Still withholding resentment towards him, she tried to push her worries aside, but failed. Where was he? The white-haired boy was always stealing away to do his unruly acts, but he nearly always returned before dawn. Yes, that must be it, she thought, he’ll return tomorrow smelling worse than a farm hand, and be his normal self, if a bit discouraged by our mother’s blind fury. She sighed, and bent to pick up a pebble at her feet. She weighed it in her hand and tossed it into the pond. The ripples spread, sending as sending odd shadows over the surrounding courtyard walls, even strangely enough, causing her candle to blow out. She took the flint and managed to relight it as something caught her eye. The spot where the stone had settled hadn’t stopped rippling. She blinked, in case her eyes deceived her, but now a light had begun to shine. It grew in flashes, until it blinded her in it’s intensity, till suddenly her eyes went dark, and the real seeing began.
* * *
An unseen force was echoing: Ryath, a Danger is approaching. Unnoticed, it has already swept across the land, spreading lies and even death in its wake. Be ready…
What he felt first was his head, his temple throbbing at each heartbeat. He opened his eyes. Seeing nothing but the roof of the cave, lit by sunlight he sat there, staring off into space. Realization struck him and he remembered what had happened. Ryath immediately tried to sit up, but was rewarded with a sharp pain that shot up his leg, almost making him pass out again. He felt his head for injuries; other than a nasty bump just above his forehead and a small gash on the back of his head, it was fine. He then went to his leg, feeling along it till he felt the shock again. From what he knew it was probably a fracture. He ripped off some cloth from his shirt and tied it around the gash on his head, then reached to see if his leg was bleeding. His hand touched something warm. He pulled it back, startled. Then felt for it again. After a few seconds the item registered as the Scale from yesterday. For another second he felt like chucking it, but thought better of it and stuck the accursed thing in his pocket. Unable to do much else with his leg in this condition, he laid back waiting for his fatigue to kick in…
* * *
Her first thought was Ouch. Apparently she had landed on her arm—not a good way to sleep. If you can call it that; Saleena had what seemed to her to be visions—of what she had no idea, for they were just shadows flickering on the edge of her consciousness. Yet she still had a foreboding feeling… She stood, wiping flecks of dirt off of her arm. Lucky it didn’t frost, Saleena thought bitterly. She was about to go back inside when she heard some rustling to her left. Ryath limped out of the brush. Immediately the rage from yesterday engulfed her, but quickly dissipated into worry. Ryath’s clothes were torn and ragged, and a bloodstained strip of his shirt was wrapped around his head. He looked at her with a strange glimmer in his eye, whispered something under his breath and collapsed unconscious. She instantly ran to him and held her hand above his mouth. Good, still breathing, she thought. She then rushed back into the hall and grabbed the nearest monk by the shoulder, and whipped him around. She recognized him immediately.
“Pete, Ryath is hurt! Go get mother, hurry!†The gray-haired man quickly complied, running back down the hall. She then went back to her brother, who was still unconscious.
Saleena knelt next to him and slowly undid the makeshift bandage around his head. Ryath grimaced and tried to turn his head, but she held firm. She winced when she exposed the wound. It was grimy and pus-covered—most definitely infected. She wondered how he had stopped himself from bleeding to death—since he did not even have the sense to clean the wound. Timely, she finished and her mother arrived with wet cloth and bandages.
“Ryath, what have you done now?†She said, her voice barely a whisper on the wind. She hastily cleaned the wound and asked Pete to retrieve a stretcher. When he returned Saleena and her mother took Ryath to his room…
Sets passed and Ryath’s condition worsened; he developed a fever and chanted in languages—ancient languages—in his fitful sleep. Then 7 settings since Saleena saw him collapse on the edge of the grounds, his fever reached a peak. Both Saleena and her mother sat by his side awaiting his inevitable expiration…
Notes: ***= Change of Character
Settings(Sets) = Days
Blink(s) = roughly a second, maybe shorter.
Hint at next chapter: Ryath doesn't die, and a new character is introduced, though not in the general sense.
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Anything is Possible...
And Yet, Nothing is Probable.
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You get the idea.