"I Came to Bring You Peace"
Emphyralis
Ludvig Shadowclaw had finally been provided with food and some rough linen clothes. He tried to remain calm, but he was a spoiled young master after all. His sisters had protected him from the harsher aspects of the Hunter Wars, and they spoiled him. They made him useless, and he hated that.
He also hated that he was betrothed to Sonja Starshadow and she ignored him. He then ignored her. He hated that as well. He was just full of hate and disgust. That's when some of the guys around him, rich foppish dandies like him, began to speak his sentiments out loud. Eventually they began to talk about the organization they were part of that wanted to change the world, make it better. They wanted men to be in charge of governance.
They also began to stroke his ego. He was very arrogant and had high self-esteem. Soon enough he became a member of the organization as well and began to do things for them. He provided them with information about his sisters' business interests. They made him believe that once he married Sonja, he'd be able to take her place when the revolution came. She'd be beneath him, and he'd be the Duke, and the dynasty would change to Shadowclaw.
He was pathetically easily influenced, so he subtly hinted to his sisters to put pressure on Sonja to finally marry him. He detested Sonja. She was not his type at all. She wasn't small, demure, or cute. She was outspoken, sturdy, and forceful. Her face was her only saving grace. So, he could make himself sleep with her when she wanted it.
About twenty years ago or so, some high-ranking members came to him for his help. It was in his best interest. The Grand Duchess was pregnant. If they kidnap her children, she'd be easily taken out. Sonja could become Grand Duchess, and then he would be Grand Duke.
Without any self-awareness of his ability, he didn't hesitate. It wasn't meant to be because shortly after the children were born, Chrystianna Silvermoon sent her children away, citing a vision from the Sisters of Moons. Everyone knew the Moonsong Festival had been earlier that year, and no one argued with it.
After the plan failed, he hadn't heard from the organization. He had no idea Sonja and Zane were investigating. He had no idea that they knew that there was even anything to investigate! What exactly did the Sisters reveal to Chrystianna back then? Did she know this whole time someone wanted to kidnap her children.
He held his head. Was he well and truly screwed? When the Truthcaller came, he'd reveal everything. He was willing. If he could make a deal, he'd give up every single fop and high-ranking member of the organization he ever met.
"Ludvig Shadowclaw."
A soft voice calling his name startled him. He turned his head and saw a cute, short, bald man draped in pale green robes. He was very delicate looking. His bright green eyes were long narrow mono-lids. His dark eyebrows were delicate and playful. His features were on the flatter side with a small palm-sized face. His lips were red and his teeth were like pearls. His skin was like mutton fat jade. Even his pointed ears were small and cute.
"Why is there a Wandering Monk?" Ludvig asked dully. He stood and walked toward him. He had absolutely no defenses against the little monk. Wandering Monks were part of the Order of the Way. They follow the teachings of Eiryu, the Dragon God of Peace. They traveled the world and promoted peace. Most of them were Jade Dragons that used their special abilities for this. Most people's only interaction with Jade Dragons was via Wandering Monks.
"I came to bring you peace," the monk told him. He held out his hand. He blew out a breath that glowed a soft peaceful green. He gathered it at the tip of finger.
Ludvig frowned as he stuck his face against the bars. "Why would Sonja allow a monk to visit me?"
The monk smiled sweetly. "The Duchess didn't send me," he said. Before Ludvig could react, the monk flicked the energy at him. As soon as he breathed it in, the monk covered his nose and mouth.
Jade Dragons had several abilities related to their "breath" or their inner power. One of them was called Harmony Breath. It was the ability to bring peace to the people around them. It was usually used to calm angry people or break up fights and similar situations. But this little monk wasn't a normal Jade. He'd learned a long time ago that if he trapped the Harmony Breath before it could be breathed out, the person who breathed it in would be in a perpetual state of peace. They wouldn't fight back even if they suffocated.
Dragons were hard to kill, but they had to breathe. It's just that it would take longer for them to run out of air. After about a quarter of an hour Ludvig slumped against the bars. He wasn't dead yet, just unconscious, so the monk kept his hands over his mouth for another half an hour until the skin under his hand grew cold.
He removed his hand. Since the man didn't struggle, he didn't put any pressure on his face so there would be no bruising. The Harmony Breath dissipated immediately. The little monk pushed the body away from the bars and it fell back with a thump.
The little monk reached into the sleeve of his robe and pulled out a damp cloth and wiped his hand before putting it away again. He took a deep breath. His chest seemed to glow under his skin and clothes, and he expelled his breath. A cloud of wispy energy was expelled, enveloping him and then he seemed to blend into his surroundings. This was the most basic ability of the Jade race. Hidden Breath. The fog surrounding them not only hid them from sight but also lowered their presence all together.
So, after silently killing a man, the little monk walked out of the dungeon with no one the wiser. They'd find the body a while later with no idea how he died. After all, who'd suspect a little monk?
--
Silvermoon Keep, Silubra
In the center of the central continent lay the city of Silvermoon, and the Silvermoon Keep. Carved out of mountains, Silvermoon Keep was not only the residence of the Grand Duchess Silvermoon Clan, but also the government building of the Silvermoon City, Silubra, and Emphyralis. The Dracosenati and the Conclave of Scales met there for their annual meeting. The Upper Parliament met in a dedicated building, made up of representatives of all races and locales around the world. Silubra's Lower Parliament, made up of representatives of all races and locales around Silubra, had another building dedicated to them. The Silver Council, the governing body made up of Silver Dragons, met there semi-annually.
It was a large sprawling complex, but the innermost part of the keep was dedicated to the Grand Duchess and her family. It was well-guarded and well-warded. Only those possessing tokens magically carved from Silver Dragon scales could come and go at will. These tokens were also usually tied to a specific person.
Roark and Troi both had one. Troi was only eighteen but already beginning to manifest his Umbrakinetic abilities and was able to Shadowwalk with help. Troi didn't look like his father. He was tall, his hair was blond, and his eyes were teal green. He'd inherited his looks from his mother, who was a Forest Elf from the Mist Vale Forest of Myrkir.
They arrived at Chrystianna's study from a shadowy corner. They did a sweep of the Ducal Residence without alerting any of the soldiers on patrol. They were trying not to leak the fact that the grand Duchess wasn't in residence and her whereabouts unknown. They returned to the study, doing patrols every fifteen minutes or so.
When they were on patrol, they were coming to the more intimate sitting room for the Grand Duchess's immediate family. It was a large room with two large fireplaces, cozy sitting areas, tables, and knick-knacks. There was also a large area with a crystal ceiling for sunbathing in Dragon form big enough for several adult Dragons. When they came in, there was a man standing in the room staring at a painting over one of the fireplaces. It was of a silver haired woman with her hand on a protruding stomach, smiling softly from the painting.
They both reached for their swords. "Who are you?" Roark demanded in a calm tone.
The man was draped in a dark trench coat, wearing a neat but travel worn navy suit with a purple button-down shirt, and a neat pattern on a waistcoat, and tall shiny boots. He was tall and thin with warm, tan skin. His messy black hair covered one eye, and he glanced at them with one long narrow violet eye. He smiled slightly and flipped his wrist producing a carved Amethyst Dragon scale. The words on it glowed with his identity.
Elias Morningstar.
Roark gestured to Troi to stand down. He bowed slightly to the man. "Lord Morningstar," he greeted politely.
"No need to be so formal, boys. Do you belong to Zane?" Elias asked curiously, but in a way that made it obvious he believed it to be true.
"No. My mother Sonja Starshadow but Troi belongs to Zane," Roark answered, believing him to simply be mistaken about their identity.
Troi gave a slight bow in greeting.
Elias raised his eyebrows. He sighed slightly. "Chrysti hasn't been able to find a replacement for Bastian yet?" he asked.
The Morningstar Clan was the protectorate family of the Silvermoon Clan. They were meant to be in charge of the security and military affairs of Silvermoon and Silubra. Elias was the last member, but he had to be whisked off-world when he began to manifest his Voidrifting ability when he was young. The Plague was raging through the planet and manifesting his ability was a sign that his first Change was imminent. So, to protect him, and a number of other young Amethyst Dragons who had Voidrifting potential, the remnant of the Eventide Conclave took them off- world.
In his absence, Chrystianna's twin brother, Bastian, took over the role. Yet, near the end of the conflict with the Dragon Hunters, Bastian took a group of soldiers and diplomats off-world as well. It's been almost twenty-five years since then. Chrystianna hasn't chosen a Knight General in all that time.
"Ysandar Thorindale is acting Knight General," Roark said.
Elias nodded. Ysandar Thorindale is an old Elf. He was his grandfather's Knight Commander. That meant that the wider security of the city and nation was in good hands, but it seemed that Chrystianna didn't let him into her inner circle. Understandable.
Roark cleared his throat. "May I ask, Lord Morningstar, why are you here? Did you Voidjump?" he asked.
Elias sat in a comfortable chair and gestured for the two young men to sit as well. "I'm waiting to meet my family. They should be back soon," he said, without going into too much detail.
Roark didn't press as he and Troi sat as well. Troi was a little uncomfortable. Basic modern history education told him who Elias Morningstar was, but it was like meeting someone who didn't really exist. It was a strange feeling.
Elias ran a hand through his hair, bushing it back and revealing his sapphire blue second eye. Heterochromia was rare even in Hybrid Dragons. He propped one ankle on the opposite knee. He observed the two boys. Sonja should have given her son a lot of trust and responsibility if she sent him here alone. "Fill me in. What's happening with the investigation into why my children ended up being hidden in another world," he said.
Publicly, the father of the Grand Duchess's children was never disclosed. Rumors abound. People close to her knew, and therefore Elias's name was among the rumors, but most regular people dismissed it. He wasn't even on the planet. Roark was one of the people who knew. So was Troi. It wasn't as if someone sat them down and explained the ins and outs. Whenever Sonja and Zane spoke of Chrystianna and her children, it was always in the same breath as Elias Morningstar, so neither was very surprised by his casual admission.
Roark didn't hesitate to tell him everything he knew, but he didn't know his father had just been apprehended as the mastermind of the plot. Therefore, the version he knew had stalled several years earlier.
He had no idea the upheaval he was due to experience.
--
Thelessia
The Hawk Talon Company took to the mountains, following the instructions of the cat-witch girl to find the mountain trolls. They'd been given new weapons from the silver-haired Elf woman. Daniel said they weren't Elves, but they looked like Elves to the men.
As they were preparing and finalizing their plans, Chrystianna started bringing out beautiful gleaming weapons from thin air.
Darius watched her for a while. "Mom. Why do you have so many weapons?" he asked.
Chrystianna shrugged. "Be prepared for anything when world-hopping," she said casually. "These are made with medium grade Draconite from the southern part of the Eternal Mountains. Not the best, but certainly better than anything found here on Thelessia. A gift for your company," she said with a smile toward the men.
Guennit's ruddy face turned even redder. "Much obliged to you, my lady," he'd said, wiping suddenly sweating palms on his rough linen trousers.
Afterwards, Guennit distributed the weapons to the men. The cat-witch asked if they had a map, and they produced one. Daniel's sister used magic to make a copy of it then wandered off to do some more even more magic. Everyone else ignored her while the cat-witch drew on the map with a charcoal stick to show them where the mountain trolls were camped.
Afterwards they agreed to meet in the village when everything was done.
The Hawk Talon Company set out.
They planned to ambush. Guennit sent his archers to encircle the mountain trolls camp to watch the backs of the front-line attackers. The rest of his men were preparing to dive in. Guennit made a hand gesture, and the swordsmen pulled their shiny new swords.
The Hawk Talon Company was a mercenary group that had a good reputation, but they weren't rich. None of the men had ever held such good weapons. They weren't bejeweled or anything, but just looking at them was a treat. The blades were a matte silver-white with characters carved down the middle of the blade. The hilts were wrapped in the finest quality leather they'd ever encountered. They appeared to be uniform and simple. As an ex-military man Guennit realized they were probably uniform weapons assigned to lower ranking soldiers. He didn't mind. Like the lady said, they were beyond anything that could be found anywhere on Thelessia.
The mountain trolls were settled in a rocky ravine with caves lining the walls. They were in the middle of the ravine talking to each other, loudly laughing, drinking something from rough stone bowls. They were also ripping into the carcasses of dead animals, and had some human food scattered around.
Mountain trolls were ugly. They were at least eight feet tall and green. They had rough, wiry hair in a streak starting on their head and going all the way down their backs. They wore animal skins around their waists and nothing else, even the women. There was almost no difference in their appearance. They all had large teeth and under tusks. If there was a striking difference between the sexes, the females had larger tusks.
They also smelled and didn't bathe. Even as far from the entrance of the ravine as they were, the smell was overwhelming. Since this was a raiding party, there weren't many of the mountain trolls, but even so, they were incredibly strong and violent.
Guennit made another hand movement, and the men ran into the ravine, slashing their weapons at the nearest trolls. The swords cut through their tough skin, almost shocking the soldiers. Because the skin of the mountain trolls is so tough, one cut was not going to be enough to put them down. It did hurt and anger them.
The mountain trolls roared and swiped with their huge beefy, clawed hands or reached for stone clubs. The men of the company were well trained. Some of them were military trained, some used to be parts of private armies. None of them had seen battle. Even earlier that day, they faced the mountain trolls several times.
The mountain trolls didn't know tactics. They were pure brute strength and head on attacks. They swung their clubs violently, but the soldiers had the agility of smaller bodies. They also had to deal with the occasional arrow flying into the ravine, sticking into the skin of the trolls. They were also gifts of the silver-haired lady.
Not to say there were no injuries. The mountain trolls did outnumber them and were much stronger. The ravine was filled with the roars and grunts of the mountain trolls and the sounds of metal clashing against stone.
One of the mountain trolls, slightly larger, with silver streaked through his wiry hair staggered under the onslaught of Guennit's sword. He had a number of cuts on his body, seeping stinking greenish blood. He roar-grunted something and threw his club at Guennit.
Guennit had to drop and roll to dodge the projectile. Much to his surprise, the mountain troll turned and ran into one of the caves. The other trolls, still able to run, ran into other caves.
"Don't chase!" Guennit shouted to the few hot-blooded young soldiers who wanted to chase down, high on the adrenaline and thrill of victory so close.
"Ay, s'right. These caves is like rabbits' warrens. We'd ne'r find our way oot," said an older member of the company as he finished off an injured mountain troll that wasn't able to flee and decided to fight to her last breath.
"Take care of the rest. The mountain trolls won't be troubling us," Guennit ordered. Even if the villagers never intended to pay them, the weapons from the silver haired lady were more than enough to cover their excursion this time. This trip was worth it.