Prologue
Of Teachers and Dragons
Tor contemplated the stars.
Lying on his back among the scrubby brush of the hillside, he looked up. Thousands of pinpricks of light winked back at him teasingly, swirling and dancing on the velvety black sky. The night insects buzzed in his ear, and the waves grumbled against the cliffs in the distance, as he leaned back, his head resting in his hands as he wondered.
It was a warm night. Tor had tossed and turned in his bunk until his younger brother Crush barked loudly in complaint. He abandoned his fruitless attempt at sleep, punched his grumbling brother for good measure, and wandered up through the wide streets of Athdara, the city of his kin and ancestors. Tor breathed in the sweet scent of the crushed grass beneath his back, and sighed. At dawn, his churning stomach told him, his future would be decided.
Only a few short months had passed for Torin Xavier since he became a Lord of the Three Realms. His apprenticeship had been long and quarrelsome, and immediately after he was granted his full title Tor left the small Greek island Telesto far behind. Traveling the world, the winds lifting him from one place to another, had suited him.
Tor crossed his legs considering the stars. The light played tricks on his eyes as they blurred in and out of focus. Crush had brought him home to Telesto, his apprenticeship luring Tor back to the city. So the young spirited boy had decided to abandon their family and come to the Lords as well. Good for him Tor had snorted, and left for Athdara the next day.
A faint gray light was bleeding into the dark sky. Tor sat up rolling his shoulders. He would be expected in the Concourse soon. When the Council said dawn, they meant the moment the first lights of sunrise shot across the horizon. They didn't appreciate tardiness. Tor yawned, so much for sleep.
Vaguely he wondered why he was being summoned. Rarely was a Lord, especially one as young and inexperienced as himself, called upon by the Council of the Three Realms. Crush had brought a message for him from his mentor Oberon, who was a member of the council. The youthful drake was convinced Tor had somehow gotten into trouble, and as usual it delighted and enthralled him. Crush had demanded to know what Tor had done, but Tor himself didn't know.
Tor rocked onto his feet and stood. He abandoned his comfortable cradle of dry grasses in favor of the warm summer air. The ground was hard beneath his bare feet, and bits of grass and dirt clung to the skin of his chest sticky with sweat. Upon leaving the small set of apartments he and Crush shared Tor hadn't even bothered to change out of his loose trousers cut short at the knee, or throw on a shirt before leaving the house. It was early morning and no one would be on the cobbled streets except for him.
And the Council won't see it he reminded himself as he ran his hand over his short bristly hair. Usually his dark hair was long and unkempt, haphazardly tied back in a tail. Crush had sheered it short during his first night home. Crush always managed to get Tor angry at him. He managed to get everyone angry at him with his pestering ways. Maybe that was why he left home. Jago Xavier, their father, had a violent temper. As he squinted across the hillside he scratched absentmindedly at a diamond of sparkling black scaling at the center of his chest. It was small, about half the size of his palm, but it was his mark. It was the mark his dragon self left upon him even when he was human.
A light breeze, cool and salty, was swept up the sea towards him, luring him towards the sky. From his lofty perch high up on the ridge above Athdara, Tor could see the ocean. Rippling away from him in a wine dark sheet the sea was a source of great joy for him. As a Lord he was a master of all three Realms. But the water brought the greatest joy for him.
The horizon was pink now. It faded smoothly from the red hues to velvety black over his head. Tor looked towards the edge of the cliff and smiled. He broke into a run, unawares of the hard ground biting at the calloused soles of his feet.
Magic vibrated through his limbs. A dragon roared for released. He swelled in size, and blue-black scales rippled from the point at the center of his chest. His copper eyes glowed bright gold like molten metal, and the pupils became cat-like slits. Without hesitation he leaped from the lip of the cliff and bat-like wings snapped out from his long sides. Tor-as-dragon glided into the air, skimming above the rounded rooftops of Athdara. Gleaming in the faint dawn light like a thousand pieces of volcanic glass Tor gained altitude rapidly.
The wind was cooling on his hot sides. Tor grunted, he knew his golden eyes swirled copper with pleasure. Although he was a big dragon, less than graceful in the air, he loved flying. He loved the feel as he soared and twisted through the night sky. How his father could have risked and lost this life he would never know.
From high above Telesto was just a small sliver of earth. A thin crescent island cupping a perfectly round bay, with a tiny island at the center. The island, Ganymede, was a jagged jut of rock with a huge rounded building of white stone positioned precariously at its peak. The center island was where the massive Three Realms Concourse was located.
Tor snorted a cloud of wispy black smoke and dipped his wings. In a shallow dive he wheeled towards Ganymede, his destination. The concourse was a massive ancient Greek temple, circular with towering columns flanked by statues of Lords passed. The center of the roof was open, a large enough opening for a dragon to pass through.
He skimmed above the calm harbor lazily dragging a claw through the water. Ganymede was surrounded by a thin rim of black sand beach. Tor curved up over it flying swiftly past the endless staircases that wound their way through the gray stone to the Concourse. Like Tor, most of the time the Lords simply flew to the Concourse abandoned the staircase altogether. The building stood regally on the peak of the island. The elegant lanterns hanging from the columns were lit, everlasting flames lit from the throats of dragons flickering in their glass depths. It meant the Council was waiting.
Tor curved around the building and onto its roof. Immediately he flared his massive wings kicking up swirls of sparkling dust. He hovered above the wide dragon entrance to the Concourse. Slowly, carefully, he lowered his great bulk into the building below. With a clatter of talons on stone he landed at the center of a massive amphitheater. It was lit by huge open air fire pits positioned around the building. At the head of the building of white stone was the stage, where three dragons watched calmly as Tor folded his wings at his side.
He felt a gentle presence at the edge of his mind. Like walking into a room and sensing someone watching you, or the feel of being followed. Instead of swinging around to see who it was, Tor opened his mind to the presence, letting the feelings and thoughts of the three dragons before him flood through his own.
Welcome, Lord Xavier of the Three Realms. Elder Raiko's rich, deep voice filled his ears. The dark, deep green dragon gazed at Tor with warmly brown-swirling eyes.
Thank you Tor dipped his angular head respectfully But I must ask. Why was I called here today?
Elder Raiko Elvira, the leader of the Council, glanced at his companions. A red dragon, the deepest color of red wine, edged foreword gazing at Tor carefully. Thane Weylyn, the youngest member of the Council. Lord Xavier, I have a task for you.
Tor raised his head, eyes bright with interest. If the Council had summoned him to give him a mission, it must be important. Perhaps it had something to do with the wizarding war up north. It was lying dormant now, as its instigator Lord Voldemort was lost and drifting, but every Lord of the Three Realms knew the war could strike again as suddenly as a cobra.
Thane sighed and blinked tiredly. My son…is dead.
Tor gaped with shock. What? He demanded, forgetting his place for a moment.
Thane looked deeply pained as he coiled his tail around his claws. His eyes swirled sadly. Keon and his wife were found dead in their home, in America. It is still unknown as to why they were dead.
Everyone knew of Thane's son Keon. Many years ago Keon had left the magic world and the Three Realms completely behind for a muggle woman. They had fled to America. But he was dead? Keon was a young Lord, only about eighty years whereas Lords could live well into centuries. Thane struggled to speak, Tor could feel his pain thrumming across their mental link. Oberon, the rich gold dragon, continued the story for his fellow Elder.
Fortunately their daughter, Blaez, was out at the time, riding her horse. He said levelly But where does that leave us? We have decided to bring her to Europe where she will continue her magic studies, per her father's request. However a situation has arisen making it clear that Blaez's destiny as a Lord is very important.
Everyone also knew of the child, and how she was forbidden to even consider the dragon half of her soul. It was an atrocity leaving many angry Queens debating whether or not to go "rescue" the young girl. Of course the Council suppressed it immediately.
Thane managed to pick up the story. While we consider the new facts written in the stars, Blaez will study under an old friend of the Lords. Albus Dumbledore has offered Blaez a place in his school which we have gladly accepted.
Tor couldn't help himself any longer. But Elder Thane, where do I come into all of this?
Thane blinked his scaly lids. Blaez needs a mentor. A young dragon flexible enough to teach her by the cloak of night at her school. Lord Torin Xavier, would you travel north to teach my granddaughter of her ancestral magic?
The black dragon shook his head in a show of confusion. A mane of long quills tipped with a deadly toxin stood up on his throat. The air misted with his poisons as he chewed over what the Council was asking him to do. Leave Telesto? After only returning a few months ago? And Crush, he'd be leaving his little brother without a family. But the floppy black haired boy would be fine, he was practically the foster child of many a family on the island. But there was so many things wrong with becoming a mentor. Tor was half the age of most Lords when they first receive an Apprentice, and he'd be teaching a Queen. Never did a drake teach a queen, or a queen teach a drake, it was just not done.
Thane sensed his confusion. We chose you Lord Xavier because you know what secrecy requires. For reasons we cannot tell you just yet this needs to remain between ourselves.
You are an adaptable drake, Tor Oberon, his former mentor, rumbled affectionately Can you imagine a stodgy old dragon like me traveling to England to teach a student away from Telesto?
Please Lord Xavier Thane suddenly pleaded Will you do this for the Lords of the Three Realms?
Tor looked at his claws, and at the stage again. Crush would be fine, he was sure. Suddenly he knew what the right answer was. Yes.
Author's Note: This is a Harry Potter fic, just give it a couple chapters lol. Also this is a slight crossover with Robin Hobb's Liveship Traders Trilogy. As I'm sure you know, portions of this story belong to Jk Rowling, Robin Hobb, and myself. Reviews muchly appreciated!