This is my first story, so I would appreciate your feedback very very much.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
The sky was a strange color, almost red. Strange lightning bolts pierced the cloudless sky, illuminating the landscape ahead .There were no trees, rivers or animals in sight, only a desert reflecting the eerie red sky.
"What is this place?" Daemar asked himself, gazing at the scenery before his eyes. He knew in some corner of his mind that it was a dream, but the rest of his mind, unaware of this knowledge, concentrated on his whereabouts and on another very important question - "What am I doing here?"
Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of him. It was as if the figure has always been there and the only things that changed were Daemar's perceptions of reality. When he looked closer he saw that it was a tall man wearing some kind of a red robe and a red hood that covered his face. The man did not speak, but Daemar felt his gaze as if it was a physical thing connecting him and the hooded man.
Daemar opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly the scenery around the two men changed. They were inside a vast hall riddled with great columns supporting a domed ceiling. The dome was made out of glass, and Daemar could see the red, cloudless sky through the dome as he looked up. The columns were wide and carved with strange runes that seemed to writhe like spiders when Daemar looked at them. The hall seemed impossibly large, almost endless
The strange man did not move and his gaze did not shift from Daemar even for a second. Strangely, Daemar felt no menace from the red clothed figure, but rather as if the man was studying him. He had the strange feeling he knew the man, regardless of the fact that he has seen him in his dreams for years now, but he had no idea how or from where he knew him.
Suddenly he heard shrill cries behind him, and he spun around quickly. He saw three big strange demon-like creatures armed with curved blades advancing on him and the red clad man behind him. Their eyes were intent upon Daemar, as if the other man did not exist. He fumbled for the sword he suddenly noticed he wore on his hip, and took a step back.
He sensed movement behind him, and suddenly the strange man stepped forward. Without a word, he extended his hand, and black fire shot from his hand and struck the three creatures in rapid succession. The creatures collapsed soundlessly on the marble floor.
The man turned to Daemar again, and slowly lowered his hood. Daemar stared – the man in front of him was himself! He looked older, and his hair was longer and braided behind his head, but Daemar felt as if he was looking in the mirror. There was a long scar on the man's right cheek, following the contours of the man's jaw, and his eyes glowed in an eerie red light.
"And so it begins, Daemar Al'caal." The older man spoke in a deep, resounding voice, a strange look on his face. "Tonight, your power shall manifest as was foreseen so long ago. Tonight, you shall be unleashed. Awaken now, and fulfill your destiny! "He raised his hand towards Daemar.
Black fire engulfed him…
Daemar woke up in cold sweat.
'A nightmare' He thought to himself as he sat up in his bed, thoughts racing in his mind. 'It was a bloody nightmare' He said to himself, trying to calm his beating heart.
He was startled by noises in the hallway, and before he could get up the door opened, letting Bevil and Amie in. They were both breathing hard, and Bevil was wearing his militia armor with his sword in his hand.
"Daemar, thank the gods you're all right! West Harbor is under attack!" Bevil managed to say, trying to get his breath "Dress up and arm yourself!"
"What? Who would attack West Harbor??" Daemar asked incredulously, forgetting about the strange dream he had just had. He leaped out of the bed and opened the chest near the bed to get his leather armor out. Now that he was awake he could here faint sounds of screams and battle from the village.
"I have no idea but hurry, because I think I saw some of the attackers heading for your house!" Bevil answered impatiently while Daemar wore the leather armor Daeghun, his foster father, gave him a year ago when he joined the militia.
"Let's go" Daemar said, picking his short sword out of the chest. "And let's hope George's drills did have some point" he said jokingly to Bevil trying to hide his nervousness. Amie was already preparing her spells, seemingly unafraid, but Daemar could see that she was gripping the quarterstaff so tightly that her knuckles were white.
With Bevil leading the way down the stairs, Daemar managed to reassuringly squeeze Amie's hand before turning around and following Bevil to the front door. He had never thought of Amie in a romantic way, and she felt nothing of the sort towards him as well, but she was his best friend in the village and he always felt protective of her. He just hoped he could protect her tonight.
"I wonder where my father…" Daemar started to say when the front door suddenly burst to pieces and three armed dark dwarves entered the house. Their eyes widened in surprise to see there were people in the house.
With a shout, Bevil flung himself on the nearest dwarf, slashing at the surprised dwarf with his sword. The dwarf was down before he was even able to raise his club, but the other two dwarves overcame their surprise and drew their weapons, their eyes glinting under their helmets.
Daemar raised his sword took on the dwarf on the left while Bevil crossed swords with the other one. Daemar knew that this was a fight for his life, and felt the adrenaline flowing in his blood as he parried the dwarf's sword, feverishly trying to prevent himself from being stabbed. The swords clashed with the sound of steel, and Daemar tried to implement the training that Georg gave him for the last year.
Daemar was never very good with weapons, not like Bevil was, but he managed to hold the dwarf's attacks at bay. He heard Amie chanting words in the language of magic, and a magical arrow struck the dwarf that Daemar was facing in his chest. The dwarf stared with surprise at his bloody chest, and fell back on the floor, dead. At the same time, Bevil pierced his opponent with his sword, and the dwarf fell forward, dead before he hit the floor.
"Now, THAT was fun!" Bevil exclaimed, and Daemar shook his head, smiling. Sometimes Bevil was too excitable for his own good, but at this moment Daemar didn't care. They have managed to survive!
"Are you two all right?" Amie asked, joining them and looking at the dead bodies at their feet with revulsion.
"Yes we are" Daemar said impatiently, peering outside through the entrance "come on, we must find Georg. He will know what to do."
Chaos engulfed them as they went out of the house. There were shouts and sounds of battle as the Harbormen tried to fight off the dark dwarves and some kind of humanoid creatures that, Daemar would later learn, were called Bladelings.
Daemar and his friends had no time to think before they were drawn into the battle. He lost count of how many dwarves and Bladelings they managed to kill, helping each other and covering each others back. Bevil was wielding the longsword in his hand with a determined look in his eyes, easily deflecting blows, thrusts and slashes from his opponents by using his armor and a shield he found on one of the dead dwarves. Amie was singing again in that mysterious language, summoning creatures, firing magical missiles and creating supernatural shields to protect them from harm. Daemar hung on to his short sword, trying to protect Amie from enemies that got too close, and at the same time looking around trying to find his father's silhouette in the darkness.
Suddenly, Amie shouted and pointed to the center of the village. Daemar raised his eyes from the corpse of the Bladeling he just killed, and saw Tarmas the Wizard and a strange humanoid magic user facing each other, surrounded by sparks and strange magical lights. Fireballs, lightning bolts, magical missiles and ice bolts riddled the space between the two magic users, and Daemar stared at the deadly, beautiful battle, unable to take his eyes off it as the three slowly approached the two mages.
Even in the middle of a magical battle, Tarmas noticed their approach, and turned his head, shouting "Do not interfere! This one is beyond your powers!"
"But I can help, Master!" Amie shouted, and before anyone could react she strode to the right side of Tarmas and began to chant.
"So, the whelp seeks to test herself" The mage said in a snakelike, coarse voice. "How pathetic." He raised his hands chanting, and three flame arrows shot from between his fingers and struck Amie. She screamed once, and fell to the ground.
"I will waste no more time on this pathetic village." The mage said. He said a word in a strange language, and disappeared in a shower of sparks.
"NO!!!" Daemar rushed to Amie's side and fell to his knees. He already knew that she was dead, but his heart refused to believe it. "Amie!" he called, cradling her head in his lap, her eyes staring sightlessly at the sky.
"I told you not to intervene, fools!" Tarmas almost screamed at them "Why can't you stupid villagers just listen for once! Now I have lost my best student! You idiots!"
Tarmas continued to rant, but Daemar barely heard him. He felt as if his heart was pulled out of his chest by grief, tears streaming from his eyes. He grieved for his best friend, a girl who didn't hurt a thing her entire life, killed by murderous monsters for no reason. "Amie!!"
He raised his eyes and saw a grey dwarf charging in his direction, murder in his eyes and an axe in his hands.
Time froze.
Daemar could feel the grief inside him, the heart- wrenching sorrow turn to hate, to anger at those monsters that killed Amie. He could feel it boiling inside him, striving for release, calling for vengeance.
He rose slowly to his feet, his eyes never leaving the Grey Dwarf who seemed to be frozen in time, his axe raised. As If in slow motion, he raised his hand at the dwarf…
And released his anger.
The world seemed to return to normal speed as black energy shot from his finger and struck the charging dwarf squarely in his chest, sending him flying backwards in the air. He landed with a thud, the axe falling from his lifeless hand.
"What…What have you done?" Tarmas demanded, walking up to Daemar "How did you…"
His words were cut short when Daemar turned his head to Tarmas, meeting his eyes. Tarmas' eyes widened, and he took an involuntary step back .Daemar's pupils had turned red. He stared at Tarmas as if he didn't know him, anger suffusing his face.
"Daemar, listen to me!" Tarmas put his hands on Daemar's shoulders "You must control your rage or it will destroy you! Do not let it control you!"
He kept looking in Daemar's eyes until he saw the red color receding from Daemar's pupils, returning to their original green color. Tarmas let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"What… What just happened?" Daemar stared at his right hand, the same hand that shot the black energy that killed the dwarf. "I don't know magic, it is impossible! Impossible".The words he heard in his dream came unbidden "...Tonight, your power shall manifest as was foreseen so long ago. Tonight, you shall be unleashed"
"It isn't magic.Not in the common sense of the word, anyway. " Tarmas said, looking around. It seemed that the battle quieted down, the moans of the injured filling the air as Brother Merring circulated among them, calling upon the power of Lathander to heal them. Bevil was directing the surviving militia to the green to join Georg to hold back the invaders.
"What do you mean?" Daemar asked, still visibly shaken by the experience. "Magic is magic, isn't it?" he demanded.
"Not quite so. Come, Daemar. Let us join Georg. It is not over yet. I shall explain everything later, If we survive…"
(To Be Continued...)