Chapter 1
Legs running, their feet trampling the grass beneath them, leaving muddy footprints on the defiled soil. Water splashing towards the sky, a brief reflection, the sound of bushes and branches being forced to move. Suddenly the echo of a warcry, a dampened scream and then dead silence...
Calia woke up arrubtly, her bed felt a little moist from her sweat. After taking a few moments to regain herself, she got to her feet and headed over to the chamber's window to get some fresh air. Since the war with the Orcs had begun, she never really recovered from the mental injuries one suffered upon hearing about the coldblooded murder of their tecaher in the arcane arts. To her the Orcs were nothing but bloodthirsty villains, that massacred thousands of people, plundered and destroyed entire villages, sparing neither children nor women. Even now they all knew that the Orcs were preparing an assault to free their brethen, locked away in the countless camps under Human control.
It was a warm and quiet night. The evening sky was lit by dozens of sparkling stars as the wind brushed through Calias' hair, playing a soothing tune. She gazed at the bright stars, pondering the eternal secret of what lies beyond, as she let herself relax for the first time in what seemed like ages.
With mother nature working her wonders on its denizens, the battle hardened magi-apprentice let go her thoughts of the past, trying to focus on the present. Her head filled with dozens of questions, yet as her mind raced to find answers for them, one question raised itself above the others. Why her? Of all the powerfull wizards that inhabit these lands, why her?
She always believed that the unique gift of receiving holy visions was reserved for only the greatest among the Kirin Tor, a society of wizards of such high skill that they mastered control of the elements. Though for her it was not as much an honor as it was a plague. Sworn to dedicate her life to serving a greater good, as visions of the future hunt her dreams.
"With great power comes great responsibility" the words echoed through her head, reviving the memories of her master, one of the strongest mages to ever walk these plains. "Yes strong" Calia thought. "Strong in heart, body, soul and mind. While I can't even control the power that flows though me. If only Kelnam was here, he'd know what to do". The words were barely out of her mouth, before they brought back the painfull memories that had led to her isolation, loss of self-coinfidence and raw, unconditional hatret for the Orcs and their allies.
After almost a full year, she still hadn't found an explanation as to why any ranger, elf or human, would risk his honor by killing an aged wizard. Yet there was no mistaking the craftsmanship of the arow, an art which had long been taken up by the mysterious rangers of the old forests. She quickly shook the memories off and went back to bed. Knowing that she had a long day ahead of her...
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Legs running, their feet trampling the grass beneath them, leaving muddy footprints on the defiled soil. Water splashing towards the sky, a brief reflection, the sound of bushes and branches being forced to move. Suddenly the echo of a warcry, a dampened scream and then dead silence...
Calia woke up arrubtly, her bed felt a little moist from her sweat. After taking a few moments to regain herself, she got to her feet and headed over to the chamber's window to get some fresh air. Since the war with the Orcs had begun, she never really recovered from the mental injuries one suffered upon hearing about the coldblooded murder of their tecaher in the arcane arts. To her the Orcs were nothing but bloodthirsty villains, that massacred thousands of people, plundered and destroyed entire villages, sparing neither children nor women. Even now they all knew that the Orcs were preparing an assault to free their brethen, locked away in the countless camps under Human control.
It was a warm and quiet night. The evening sky was lit by dozens of sparkling stars as the wind brushed through Calias' hair, playing a soothing tune. She gazed at the bright stars, pondering the eternal secret of what lies beyond, as she let herself relax for the first time in what seemed like ages.
With mother nature working her wonders on its denizens, the battle hardened magi-apprentice let go her thoughts of the past, trying to focus on the present. Her head filled with dozens of questions, yet as her mind raced to find answers for them, one question raised itself above the others. Why her? Of all the powerfull wizards that inhabit these lands, why her?
She always believed that the unique gift of receiving holy visions was reserved for only the greatest among the Kirin Tor, a society of wizards of such high skill that they mastered control of the elements. Though for her it was not as much an honor as it was a plague. Sworn to dedicate her life to serving a greater good, as visions of the future hunt her dreams.
"With great power comes great responsibility" the words echoed through her head, reviving the memories of her master, one of the strongest mages to ever walk these plains. "Yes strong" Calia thought. "Strong in heart, body, soul and mind. While I can't even control the power that flows though me. If only Kelnam was here, he'd know what to do". The words were barely out of her mouth, before they brought back the painfull memories that had led to her isolation, loss of self-coinfidence and raw, unconditional hatret for the Orcs and their allies.
After almost a full year, she still hadn't found an explanation as to why any ranger, elf or human, would risk his honor by killing an aged wizard. Yet there was no mistaking the craftsmanship of the arow, an art which had long been taken up by the mysterious rangers of the old forests. She quickly shook the memories off and went back to bed. Knowing that she had a long day ahead of her...
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