A/N: Chapter three. Have I ever made it this far before?

Some brief notes about the chapter: It was originally going to be a lot longer - mainly because it was supposed to contain a very long winded flashback. On second thought, not only was the flashback irrelevent, but I also didn't want to write it. So what few people read this are spared - but it's also not quite up to par as far as length is concerned. It occurs to me that I am really bad at writting long conversations. My appologies.
Kyrie is turning into a screen-time-hog, which is starting to be annoying. But she's still got a role to play. More appologies for giving so much attention to an OC.

A massive raptor circled the muddy brown lake – again and again it went round, over and over.

All other life had long since fled as the sun's first rays began to scorch the land. A foreboding quiet reigned across what would normally be lively forest-clad hills. The sense of doom echoed in the still waters and occasionally the distant screech of the sole raptor.

The animals knew.

The bird would have been long since gone were it not for the insistent commands pounding through its mind.

"Go down! Towards the castle," the voice shouted. The bird obeyed. It folded its great brown wings and dove, a few loose feathers working their way off into the rush of wind. The great three-tiered stone fortress loomed ever closer. Through one of the massive arches two small figures moved about. "Yes! Yes! Down, down! Get close to them!" the voice shouted in glee.

Wham!

Malchior and Kyrie looked up towards where the sound had come from. A huge golden avian was sliding down off the enchanted glass.

"Dumb bird," Kyrie commented, raising an eyebrow.

Malchior sighed, conjuring a small fireball with his fingertips, "Shall you put it out of its misery, or shall I?" Despite the resigned tone, the purple haired mage still let his ever present grin dance across his face. It was clear he relished the thought of killing the dazed animal.

"Oh leave it alo-HEY! The Mornal Archives are supposed to be next to the Book of Nord, not the Romanomicon," Kyrie pointed at the offending book with panicked gesture.

Malchior ran over to the aged manuscript and carefully lifted it. "Silly me. And that is why I can't do this alone," he paused before slowly picking up another tome and laying down the first. "Look, I even had it turned to the wrong page," he said, exasperated.

"A mistake like that could get us killed..." Kyrie trailed off into deep thought. Her companion stalked around the ring of literature, taking in every detail. "Six eyes are better than four; why isn't Rorek here? I might not be able to cast a spell of this magnitude."

Malchior started for a moment before idly crouching down to check the page of a book. "Two's company, three's a crowd. Rorek couldn't make it."

Kyrie's eyes narrowed to bore into her companion. Her foot incessantly beat against the floor in an erratic rhythm. "You're not telling me something."

Malchior carefully lifted a few stray bits of hair from his face before replying, "Huh?"

Arms crossed, the female mage stopped tapping and planted her feet firmly. "In all likelihood, we're both about to be killed playing with magic. The least you can do is tell me the truth."

Letting his smile fade, Malchior cocked his head to the side and shuffled backwards slightly. "I am. I asked him, but he was too busy paper shuffling and such."

"What? I thought he'd be overjoyed..." Kyrie trailed off, stunned by the revelation. Her hands dropped down to her sides.

"He's not the same friend – he's changed..." Malchior turned away and dropped his voice to an inaudible mutter, "and not for the better." Raising his voice back to a speaking level he announced, "The last book is set. Everything is ready."

"Already? I never thought this would happen," Kyrie said, slightly awed and sufficiently distracted from pursuing her interrogation.

"You're not the only one," the raptor's invisible rider seconded. The bird pulled itself up from it's crumpled pile at the base of the window. "Now hurry."

"If this works... the first dragon in eons," Malchior looked up towards the distant ceiling, but did not see the stone arches and rafters. "A new age, a new kingdom..."

"If this doesn't work, two dead bodies," the sorceress interjected.

In a sudden rage, the purple haired mage rushed over and grabbed Kyrie's shoulders. "Don't you dare think like that. I refuse to have come all this way for nothing. I stole the Galleon Scrolls from Azarath! I procured each and every one of these tomes," he swept his left arm out to indicate the eleven books and scrolls laid out in a large circle. "I refuse to have come all this way for nothing," Malchior repeated. His demeanor returning to serenity, he continued, "We can do this. You can do this. I'm the crux of the spell, even if everything goes horribly wrong, you'll be safe," the mage begged.

Pulling away from him, Kyrie slowly walked to the pedestal placed outside the circle, setting a blank sheet of paper on it. "I'll hold you to your word – I have no desire to die."

Silently nodding, Malchior stepped into the center of the circle and turned to face Kyrie. Taking a deep, calming breath, he brought both palms of his hands together and then slowly drawing them apart, the mage formed a crackling orb of violet energy. Beads of sweet slowly formed, then rolled down his face. Across the circle, Kyrie copied his motion, igniting a similar ebony ball.

Outside, the raptor hopped from foot to foot in anticipation.

Two voices began to chant, "Rex ex logos crescere sinemus," they called out in perfect unison. An ominous wind blasted through the motionless hall, turning the pages of the books. Kyrie's sheet of paper didn't budge.

"Eum ex zintho advocamus." As the wind grew in strength the mages were forced to raise their voices. The only calm in the massive room was the single unified sound of chanting.

The raptor edged up until it was pressed against the magical glass, every muscle twitching.

"Eius anima corpo adsumit." The energies in the hall coalesced into a purple whirlwind with a few streaks of black, fed by the twin orbs of magic, and surrounded Malchior. He stood in the eye of the storm, untouched, still reciting the spell. The pale skin on the palms of his hands was ravaged by the purple orb's violent suction into the chaos, slowly peeling back and bleeding freely.

The sorceress began to bring her hands closer to the blank paper. Before long the orb touched the sheet and soaked into it.

Meanwhile, the storm of sorcery continued to twist and turn within the circle, rising up to the ceiling. As it hit the roof, it smashed up into and through the ancient stones. The force of the blow threw the scattered boulders towards the distant sun, and then back down. All around a rain of rubble crashed down to the floor, splintering the flagstones.

Kyrie stood her ground. She flinched at every boom, but still stayed erect. The ebony orb had now almost completely soaked into the page.

"Assurge!"

At the final word the raptor screeched and the storm died. Within the ring of books, Malchior fell to his knees, head bent back, staring up to the sky beyond the ruined ceiling. The sun was nearing its zenith; faint golden rays streamed down to the floor and surrounded the mage. The blood dripping from his fingertips shone bright red, seeming to glow on the warm pavement.

His words were a mixture of disbelief and despair, "It failed."

A/N: The spell used was

Rex ex logos crescere sinemus
Eum ex zintho advocamus
Eius anima corpo adsumit
Assurge

A basic translation is

We allow the king to come forth (be born) from the word
We summon (invoke) him from Zinthos
His spirit takes form
Rise!

Even if you think I'm full of it and hate the story, a review would still be nice