"No! No! No!" Torin yelled and banged his fists against the wall of magic now cutting through the forest.
Vylknar and his friends watched in shock as their ever composed mentor once again lost his temper that day.
"That bitch! If I had the power to kill her, I would make sure it was a long and painful death!" Torin's face was red with rage. Another howl in the distanced silenced him, however.
"What is that?" Ronan asked.
"The queen's hounds. They are hunting," Torin's face was tight with worry.
"Hunting what?" Maeve, always the inquisitive one, asked.
Torin was silent as he looked at the seven young elves. He looked to the northeast, then to the "safehouse", which was really a well hidden cave concealed by a hefty amount of magic.
"I can't lift this barrier, it's fortified with demon magic too strong for my own," he looked back out in the direction of the howls, "and she can't make it to the safehouse with this barrier and the hounds. She most likely has no magic left to spare. We need help, and there is only one being who can."
Torin walked to Lucien and grabbed his shoulder.
"Grab on to each other," he ordered.
The young elves did so, and Vylknar braced himself, knowing what was coming. Immediately, the world dropped away, and Vylknar found himself hurtling through a void. His body became nothing but a formless light as he moved faster and faster through the darkness, until it finally slowed and the world appeared once again as he became solid.
He hated Porting, and knew that, should he live a thousand years, he would never get used to it. He looked around as his body adjusted to his new surroundings. The air was hotter here, and a deep and ancient magic flowed through it. Before his eyes was the most beautiful of sights. Everywhere he looked, there was magic. The trees, grass, water, even the creatures were all made of magic and radiated with light. They were on the slope of a great mountain range, and were looking down upon the land of magic below.
"Amazing," whispered Leena, the gentlest of the group. Vylknar looked over and saw her eyes filled with wonder as she watched glittering birds of every hue soar and dive through the warm air.
In the distance, Vylknar could see large beasts dancing through the luminescent tendrils of grass. They were such interesting creatures- they were entirely white and shone in the darkness much like dancing stars. They had a transparent quality to them. Their bodies were wispy and seemed formless- that is, until one would suddenly appear as a large bear and another as a large cat, only to become nothing but wisps once again.
"I never thought I would see an Etherym. What an incredible sight! I must document this later," Norvik exclaimed excitedly. Vylknar was impressed, though not surprised, that scholarly Norvik would recognize the strange beasts.
"You will have plenty of time to study them later, Norvik," said Torin gruffly, "Come, we have little time." Torin hurriedly began trudging up the slope of the nearest, and largest, mountain as the others followed behind.
"Norvik, correct me if I am wrong, but I have a feeling that this is the Ancient Land," Ehrnin spoke quietly as he watched the surrounding land with the skilled gaze of a hunter.
"I believe so too, Ehrnin. The magic here is so old, the land has absorbed it and transformed itself with it," replied Norvik.
"Then that would mean we are walking into the Mountains of Fire," said Lucien grimly, "I hope Torin knows what he is doing."
"Wait," Ronan paused his step, "we are going to see the dragons? Hell yeah!" He jumped and pumped a fist into the air, his face filled with a child's glee.
Suddenly a great roar resounded through the air so loud that the ground quivered at its might. Everyone stopped in their tracks, except Torin, who kept on with his brisk hike up the slope.
"Nice going, you idiot!" Maeve punched Ronan in the gut angrily, "You woke up a dragon!"
"Actually, he woke up twenty," Ehrnin said quietly and pointed up the slope.
Vylknar's eyes followed Ehrnin's finger until he saw the awe inspiring, yet terrifying group above them. Twenty huge dragons covered in armor gazed down at them with ancient power and wisdom in their eyes. They spread their wings and rose their heads to the sky as they roared with magic in their voices.
"Oh shit!" cried Ronan as Lucien released an exasperated sigh.
Oh shit is right, thought Vylknar.
"Hurry up! There's no time for ogling!" yelled Torin, who now, to everyone's horror, stood at the foot of the largest and fiercest looking of the dragons.
"I swear to the Light, that old man is entirely insane," grumbled Maeve.
"Or the most badass elf alive," replied Ronan with a huge grin.
The friends looked at one another, then followed after Torin without another word.
What the hell are we getting ourselves into? Vylknar looked uneasily at the dragons, who he now realized were focused entirely on the distant horizon. The land no longer glowed so brightly, and the creatures had all disappeared. It was as if everything held its breath.
But for what?
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