The Second Battle of Carmagelian
This takes place during the second battle of Carmagelian, about 100 years before the book begins. It features Aryka, who shows up later on in the series, Riddle, and Neero. Riddle and Aryka do have a history, but I'm not yet revealing the details of their relationship.
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Acrid smoke twisted around cracked and broken spires. Fires smouldered on thatched roofs and toppled building lay in scattered pieces. Shouts and cries rang from the sooty streets, echoed by the clang of swords and armor. Warriors clashed on the blood spattered streets of Carmagelian. The dusky orange-red armor marking Carmagelian soldiers oppose to the shiny lilac armor of the Hidden cities. Wyverns shrieked and dragons roared as they met in combat.
Hot ash seared his paws, and the smoky air burned his throat. Ducking under ruined arches and dodging around chunks of fallen sunset-colored stone, he fought his way back towards his soldiers’ defensive line. Blood splashed his white fur as he darted between dueling warriors. A gruesome mixture of blood, ash and mud coated the ground, sticking to his legs and smearing against his fur.
Ducking away from a wyvern’s murderous talons, he lashed his claws across an enemy soldier’s surprised face. He felt the familiar twinge as his equipped uriduim claws bit into the soft skin of his toes. Spinning on his back paws he finished off the unfortunate warrior with a lash across the throat. An explosion rocked the ground, and flames flickered higher towards the sky in the distance. With a curse, Aryka turned and dove farther into his defensive lines. Leaping over clashing soldiers, he barked orders as he ran. Pain lanced across his shoulder as a warrior scored a lucky blow. He could feel warmth as blood soaked the fur around his newest would. With a final struggle, he burst out of the fray.
Sprinting down the abandoned streets of his city, the sounds of battle grew fainter. Fires still burned on the battered buildings, and rubble littered the pale stone streets. His shoulder burned, and he could feel blood leaking down his leg. He ignored his wound and focused on his palace. He pushed himself faster, stretching out his long limbs and lithe figure. He turned on a paw and raced down a narrow alley. He whipped around another corner, racing up the familiar path to the stairs of his palace.
He dashed through the red crystal doorway, surprising several of his soldiers. With a growl and a jerk of his head they scrambled towards the door. Aryka dashed up his main staircase, turning down a intricately carved hallway. Sprinting down the hallway, Aryka stumbled as an explosion rocked the palace. Firelight reflected off the walls of the hallway and he pulled himself of the floor, cursing.
Aryka raced up a small, spiraling staircase off the end of the hallway. He glanced behind him, catching a glimpse of a dark colored wolf. Grimacing, Aryka ran faster while trying not to trip. His shoulders were burning from climbing, and it almost hurt to breathe. He caught a glimpse of smoky sky, and bounded up the last couple of steps. He turned, prepared to run across a narrow bridge connecting the two tallest spires of his palace. His eyes widened in fear and her snarled at the cerulean she-wolf blocking his path. A growl announced that his other pursuer had arrived.
Aryka backed up, growling softly while looking for an escape and examining his attackers. A dark colored wolf with maroon markings. By the flashy lilac colored armor he wore, Aryka guessed he was someone important, most likely a prince. The cerulean she-wolf he knew all too well.
“Aryka,” she said bitterly.
“Riddle,” he answered coolly.
She snarled at him, little flames started to grow around her paws. The dark colored wolf stepped forward, interrupting them.
“Surrender. Your armies are losing,” he said. Aryka though he might have liked this wolf in another life. He certainly was handsome, and he had the mark of a good commander. Unfortunately, this wasn’t another life. The only way he could escape was to get around one of these wolves. He didn’t want to take that chance with Riddle, so there was really only option left.
He paused for a moment, pretending to consider the prince’s demand. Without a moment’s hesitation he launched himself at said wolf. They slammed into each other before rolling over, dangerously close to the edge. The prince kicked him off and as Aryka landed he knew his mistake. He whipped around to face Riddle, only to be caught full on by a blast of magyck. He felt himself go flying over the edge of the tower, the red crystal of his palace flashing by as he fell.
Reaching for his own magyck, he was dismayed to find his reserves empty. He looked up to see the cerulean she-wolf’s figure growing smaller. He smiled grimly, what fool had built Carmagelian on the edge of a cliff? As his palace grew smaller, he took a deep, shuddering breath. Tears burned at the back of his throat, and he allowed a sob to break through his cool facade. Closing his eyes, he sucked in a breath of air through his teeth and awaited death.
Hot ash seared his paws, and the smoky air burned his throat. Ducking under ruined arches and dodging around chunks of fallen sunset-colored stone, he fought his way back towards his soldiers’ defensive line. Blood splashed his white fur as he darted between dueling warriors. A gruesome mixture of blood, ash and mud coated the ground, sticking to his legs and smearing against his fur.
Ducking away from a wyvern’s murderous talons, he lashed his claws across an enemy soldier’s surprised face. He felt the familiar twinge as his equipped uriduim claws bit into the soft skin of his toes. Spinning on his back paws he finished off the unfortunate warrior with a lash across the throat. An explosion rocked the ground, and flames flickered higher towards the sky in the distance. With a curse, Aryka turned and dove farther into his defensive lines. Leaping over clashing soldiers, he barked orders as he ran. Pain lanced across his shoulder as a warrior scored a lucky blow. He could feel warmth as blood soaked the fur around his newest would. With a final struggle, he burst out of the fray.
Sprinting down the abandoned streets of his city, the sounds of battle grew fainter. Fires still burned on the battered buildings, and rubble littered the pale stone streets. His shoulder burned, and he could feel blood leaking down his leg. He ignored his wound and focused on his palace. He pushed himself faster, stretching out his long limbs and lithe figure. He turned on a paw and raced down a narrow alley. He whipped around another corner, racing up the familiar path to the stairs of his palace.
He dashed through the red crystal doorway, surprising several of his soldiers. With a growl and a jerk of his head they scrambled towards the door. Aryka dashed up his main staircase, turning down a intricately carved hallway. Sprinting down the hallway, Aryka stumbled as an explosion rocked the palace. Firelight reflected off the walls of the hallway and he pulled himself of the floor, cursing.
Aryka raced up a small, spiraling staircase off the end of the hallway. He glanced behind him, catching a glimpse of a dark colored wolf. Grimacing, Aryka ran faster while trying not to trip. His shoulders were burning from climbing, and it almost hurt to breathe. He caught a glimpse of smoky sky, and bounded up the last couple of steps. He turned, prepared to run across a narrow bridge connecting the two tallest spires of his palace. His eyes widened in fear and her snarled at the cerulean she-wolf blocking his path. A growl announced that his other pursuer had arrived.
Aryka backed up, growling softly while looking for an escape and examining his attackers. A dark colored wolf with maroon markings. By the flashy lilac colored armor he wore, Aryka guessed he was someone important, most likely a prince. The cerulean she-wolf he knew all too well.
“Aryka,” she said bitterly.
“Riddle,” he answered coolly.
She snarled at him, little flames started to grow around her paws. The dark colored wolf stepped forward, interrupting them.
“Surrender. Your armies are losing,” he said. Aryka though he might have liked this wolf in another life. He certainly was handsome, and he had the mark of a good commander. Unfortunately, this wasn’t another life. The only way he could escape was to get around one of these wolves. He didn’t want to take that chance with Riddle, so there was really only option left.
He paused for a moment, pretending to consider the prince’s demand. Without a moment’s hesitation he launched himself at said wolf. They slammed into each other before rolling over, dangerously close to the edge. The prince kicked him off and as Aryka landed he knew his mistake. He whipped around to face Riddle, only to be caught full on by a blast of magyck. He felt himself go flying over the edge of the tower, the red crystal of his palace flashing by as he fell.
Reaching for his own magyck, he was dismayed to find his reserves empty. He looked up to see the cerulean she-wolf’s figure growing smaller. He smiled grimly, what fool had built Carmagelian on the edge of a cliff? As his palace grew smaller, he took a deep, shuddering breath. Tears burned at the back of his throat, and he allowed a sob to break through his cool facade. Closing his eyes, he sucked in a breath of air through his teeth and awaited death.