Chapter 1: The Lone Soldier

'Cela honrettis nel cabatris.'

There is honor in battle.

***

The moon hangs low on the horizon. Silver light sparkles on turquoise waters. A crisp wind blows across the dark landscape. The starless sky brings mixed emotions to a lone heart.

"Un cabatris wyncen, [one battle won]." A soft voice sighs. "Mais unoutre vittera, [but another quickly comes]."

A lone soldier stares into the calm river. Her white face is painted with blood splatches. She dips dark hands into the water. Carefully, she washes away the red gore. Once clean, she peers into her reflection. Her steel armor glints in the moonlight. Two blue eyes regard her with concern. The soldier’s long black hair blows in the wind. A black tail twitches from behind in an anxious flicker.

"I'm a mess," she observes.

With a soft 'plop,' the lone soldier sits beside the riverbank. Her gaze reaches the moon with a somber smile. She admires the silver hue. 'Grattis Matra Lunestra.' She prays affectionately to Mother Moon. The lone soldier regards the deity with warmth. However, she is not the only one.

Another soldier approaches the river. His black armor is a shade darker than his grey skin. His horns are much larger than his comrade's own. He sighs at the sight of her sullen demeanor.

"Kiora, are you well?" A deep baritone carries across the breeze.

The young Daemik jumps to her feet. The tufts of fur on her tail turn rigid with surprise. As she sees the older soldier, Kiora appears relieved.

"Better to see a friendly face," she smiles. "I'm sorry, Shik-Draik, [black-dragon]. I don't believe that I'm ready."

The draik places a clawed hand upon his chest. Shik-Draik's long black hair drapes across his armor like silk. Two red eyes gleam with sympathy. His scaley tail swishes back and forth. No matter how calm his face may be, Shik-Draik's discomfort is exposed in his tail. Ever since he met her, the draik regards Kiora as a pettit sistra, [little sister]. Shik-Draik's concern reflects his sentiments.

"I understand." Shik-Draik walks over and places a hand on her shoulder.

Kiora stares into his ruby eyes. She isn't familiar with that level of care from others. 'Good people are hard to find.' She thinks. 'Which is why we must keep our famliettis, [family] close.' Rather than reply vocally, Kiora embraces her tall comrade. Her head rests on the armor plate right above his belly.

"Grattis," she whispers. "I guess that I didn't expect to dive right into battle so soon. Though, we have to help them. Isn't that our duty?"

"Such is true," he replies. Shik-Draik removes himself from the embrace. "The duty is ours only if you agree to provide aid. When the matter hangs between life and death, one must accept the battles that can be won."

Kiora shrugs. 'I'm not sure if I believe that.' Her thoughts reel. 'If something can be done, then we must act.' Upon that statement, a fire rekindles inside of her heart. Kiora feels a surge of energy swell as determination shines in her blue eyes. The lone soldier's tail flickers with a new ferocity.

"Mi prepartera, [I'm ready]!" Kiora clenches both fists. "Nostre allertas, [let's go]!"

Shik-Draik releases a heavy sigh. Although apprehensive, he cannot argue with his superior. The draik reminisces for a moment. 'If she can single handedly save a kingdom, then Kiora is bound for victory!' He smiles and nods his approval.

"Very well, Petitt Gottis, [little goat]." Shik-Draik extends a hand. "Do you know the way?"

A mischievous look crosses Kiora's face. "'Of course, I do!' She thinks with delight. Using magika [magic] is her favorite thing to do. While accepting her comrade's hand, the soldier steadies her breath. She utters a spell while waving her black hand in the air. From her fingertips, energy flows above the water. The river reacts to the sigil's power-further, the current reaches a crescendo. In time, a portal forms like an oval mirror. Yet, the vortex does not reflect the two soldiers. A clay castle appears in the frame.

***

The two soldiers walk onto a dark street. Kiora's portal disappears from behind. She observes their new surroundings. The clay buildings decorate the street with tight precision. Several passersby stop in their tracks. Their crimson skin is lined with spikes along both arms. Open mouths reveal sharp, jagged teeth. Green and gold eyes regard the strangers with shock. Kiora can feel their contempt grow as seconds pass.

"Who are you?" An aggressive resident approaches.

His words are unrecognizable.

"Mi regrettra, [I'm sorry]." Kiora places a hand over her chest. "Mais nostre non parlettre vostra lingua, [but we cannot speak your language]."

Despite the situation, Kiora attempts to remain civil. However, she holds a vague feeling of doubt. 'Did I…bring us to the correct realma, [realm]?' She wonders. Kiora refuses to show fear. Unfortunately, her tail reacts as though it has a mind of its own. The passerby watches her tail's movements. Before he can speak, another resident enters the conversation.

"What are you?" A female voice chimes in while using a common tongue.

"We are Daemik," Kiora replies. "We are here to speak with your highness."

"Our highness?" The first passerby scoffs. "Our king doesn't take kindly to 'outsiders' Especially, those who appear in Azkhazan out of thin air!"

"Azkhazan?" Shik-Draik raises a brow. "Are you not in need of more arms?"

"Excuse me?" The rowdy citizen crosses his arms. "This great nation can handle its own!"

"We did not mean to cause offense." Kiora states firmly. "We come in good faith. Can we just seek counsel?"

"Our king is busy." The female citizen grins. "He is planning a…meeting…with the ruler of Venura."

Kiora's eyes widen in alarm. Once she hears the region, the lone soldier realizes her mistake. 'I 'did' send us through the wrong passage!' She places a foot behind her. With a solid expression, Kiora telepathically connects with her comrade.

'We need to leave.' Kiora's concern is evident.

Shik-Draik nods in response. He clears his throat.

"I assume that we are no longer needed here," Shik-Draik states. "We'll be going now."

As the two soldiers turn around, several citizens approach with blades drawn. Despite seeing the giant soldier in black armor, the folks of Azkhazan take pride in numbers. Their faces beam with blood lust. Crooked smiles cross their lips as they corner the strangers. The citizens feel confident in their upfront. After all, the female soldier in front of them seems unarmed.

"I don't believe that is possible." The initial aggressor sneers. He blocks their path while brandishing his short sword. "How are we to know if you are not spies for that 'pathetic' region?"

Shik-Draik glares at him. The slits of his eyes dilate. 'How dare they?' The draik snorts his disgust. 'To bully another kingdom is beyond low!' Shik-Draik's tail whips at the ground. He recognizes why Kiora selected this mission.

'Are we to assist Venura?' The old soldier asks her through telepathy.

Shik-Draik's gaze locks on with his comrade's own. Kiora nods in affirmation. He agrees with their call. The draik returns his attention to the conflict at hand.

"If you wish to have arms left for war." Shik-Draik voices his reply slowly and with bared fangs. "Then, I suggest that you allow us to take our leave."

The ruffians all jeer.

"No such luck!" The lead aggressor barks.

With a loud screech, the crimson man signals for an attack. Dozens of crazed citizens lash out at the strange soldiers. Kiora focuses on dodging strikes for the moment. As blades swing into her direction, the lone soldier deftly maneuvers out of range. 'Should we spill blood or not?' Kiora asks herself. With a watchful glance, she notices her comrade being defensive in his reactions. The dragon soldier can easily cleave the bulk of the attackers with his broad sword. On the other hand, Shik-Draik intentionally refuses to retaliate.

"Come on, you cannot keep dodging!" Another citizen hisses. "Strike back, 'cowards!'"

The over pronunciation of the insult angers Kiora. She may be a formidable warrior, but the Daemik is still young. She waves her hand in the air with a furrowed brow. The sigil for wvyn- [the word for 'wind' is pronounced 'vin']-appears in a golden aura. Kiora whispers her spell with urgent intent. Suddenly, a gale whips around the battlefield. The enraged citizens are baffled and shield their eyes from dust. Kiora takes pride in her diversion. She sends a mental message to Shik-Draik.

'Let's disengage!' She orders.

'Copy!' The dragon soldier replies.

The two sprint away from their attackers. Once the wind clears, the initial aggressor notices their flight. The crimson man's grip on his hilt tightens.

"B****!" The lead fighter spits towards Kiora's direction. While using the Azkhazan tongue, he initiates a demand. "Let's get them!"

The command bolsters their desire for blood. Feet pound the dusty street behind the mysterious soldiers. The shouts grow in a loud roar. Some citizens find rocks to throw at their targets. Shik-Draik sheathes his blade for easier steps. He watches as his comrade draws another sigil in the night air. This time, Kiora focuses on one word-Venura. A vortex appears in front of them. As they enter the frame, the soldiers leave behind the disgruntled ruffians. Once Kiora steps onto a forested path, she passes out from over-exhaustion...

***

...The sound of birds greets Kiora. She rises in a cot. Her eyelids blink open and draw in the room. Kiora appears to be in some sort of infirmary. She turns to the right. Shik-Draik sits in a wooden chair. The draik’s sleepy head is held up by his hands. Kiora stretches her weary body. She quietly steps onto the marbled floor. Although she prefers not to wake anyone, the lone soldier cannot shake away from her curiosity. With a gentle shake, Kiora ushers the dragon out of his slumber.

"Morning, Petitt Gottis," Shik-Draik greets. After a yawn, he rises to his feet. "Are you ready to meet her?"

"The ruler of this kingdom?" she asks.

"Yes," he replies.

"I'm ready!" Kiora places both hands on her hips and puffs out her chest.

Shik-Draik chuckles. He leads her out of the room. The dragon Daemik is quite larger than the folks of Venura. That much is true by his need to dunk below doorframes. Kiora cannot resist laughing at his small inconvenience. Shik-Draik's grey skin blushes violet from his embarrassment. He continues to guide her throughout the halls.

Once the two exit the infirmary, Kiora's heart swells at the beautiful scenery. Lush trees surround marble buildings. Some houses do not have a roof-rather, they use a tree's canopy in their design. 'It's lovely here!' Kiora beams. Her tail flicks happily about with each step. She sniffs at the crisp air. The young Daemik watches a bird land on a railing. She delights at the bird's song. Upon closer inspection of the little one, she notices that the bird has three eyes! Kiora keeps walking onward. 'I wonder what the Venuran people look like.' She thinks.

As the central building comes into view, Kiora marvels at the elegant architecture. A massive palace made of marble seems to grasp the sky. The Venuran builders have incorporated flower pots running along the palace's rails. The pleasant aroma of blossoms fills Kiora's lungs. She eagerly walks onto the landing.

In front of a massive bronze door stand two attendants. They welcome Kiora and her comrade with open arms. Their skin is light blue and, like the bird, the Venuran folk have three eyes. Within another glance, Kiora notices another trait. 'They have three fingers!' She muses. 'Just as the Dearthians!' Her tail flicks happily at a fond memory. She recalls the alien race's strong relationship with the moon. 'A shared love!' She smiles. Kiora nods in acknowledgment of the attendants.

"Welcome." An attendant smiles upon greeting. "Our lady awaits."

Kiora enters the palace. She beams at the sight of several potted plants. The soldiers walk deeper into the foyer. Upon a right turn, the attendants lead them to the throne room. There are small trees that stand on both sides of the doorframe. Kiora cannot resist a quick inspection of the sweet aroma. 'They seem to place a high value in nature.' She observes. As Kiora approaches the throne, she meets their queen. The Venuran ruler wears an elegant emerald gown. She regards her guests with a warm expression.

"Thank you for coming, Kiora and Shik-Draik." She remarks with a gentle wave of her hand. Her vibrant purple eyes brighten. "We have been awaiting you two for quite some time. I am happy that you've accepted my request."

At first the lone soldier is taken aback. 'She knows our names!' Kiora exclaims within her thoughts. With a low bow, the young Daemik evokes her regards.

"The pleasure is ours," Kiora replies. "What might your name be?"

"I am, Dienti." The queen rises. She approaches the two with light steps. "I cannot express my gratitude enough. Venura's battle with Azkhazan begins tomorrow. I know that time for war rages soon. Yet, we need both of your help!"

Kiora glances at her comrade.

'Tomorrow is sudden!' The lone soldier shares her concern to Shik-Draik without spoken words.

The soldier nods in agreement. Time is short. However, both soldiers understand the nature of an emergency call.

"We shall discuss our plans," Shik-Draik announces. "In the 'morrow we will be ready to take a stand!"

"Perfect!" Dienti clasps both hands together. "Let's begin with a bite to eat."

The grumble in Kiora's stomach rejoices at the idea. She nods with a smile. Such hospitality will not be wasted in vain.