The Throne of Bones.

11. The Aftermath of another Calamity.

"The boy has lost his mind!" Wolfsword screeched as he recognized Minto from behind the Crimson-Dragon Guild members. "What is he doing?"

"Minto!" 

Being caught off guard as well Astrá could only scream his name and watch as the Vermilion explosion enveloped him and sent a wave of rippling fire and destruction crashing across the plain toward the multitude.

The clouds in the sky morphed and twirled before a wall of water came crashing through, creating a perfect barrier that exploded into steam and vapour when the Vermilion fire collided into it.

Like the Crimson-Dragon Guild that only specialized in fire or flame affiliated magic, the ones responsible for the wall of water was a guild made up inclusively of humans called Jadeguard, specialists of water and ice magic.

Eliós' guilds were simple in that way, one would always be able to know where they belong based on the magic, they grew up studying.

Astrá became wrathful when several seconds passed and Minto did not emerge from the vapour.

She clawed at her arms and ripped away her golden armlets and the shoulder armour she was wearing revealing runes across her hands and exposed back. "I now understand why Minto hates Dragons with such a deadly passion." She hissed, summoning up all of her magic in a single point and condensing it until the runes became alive and began burning into her skin as their passive forms began expanding into burning letters of a foreign tongue into her flesh. "A creature that kills indiscriminately, deserves only death in return!"

For those who could read the text burned into her back; Wolfsword included on the bunch, they recognized the word 'Ignium' as it writhed and glowed menacingly.

Ignium, it made sense all of a sudden, why she was so powerful, why her magic was so fierce, she had made a contract with the demon clan Ignium, a clan well known for its fire magic and dark sorcery.

"Come forth, spirit of flames and burn my enemy into the ground, shed the flesh from their skin and grant me their screams, manifest and do my bidding, Spirits of Ignium!" A sudden wave of heat overtook Astrá's body as she summoned overbearing power, causing those who were close to her to retreat from its graze unless they wish death upon themselves.

"Daughter of Crimson, the dragon is upon us!" An elder human in Astrá's guild called at her as he shot off a fire-bolt from his palm, the insignificant shot didn't even reach the dragon before it exploded. "Astrá!" The old man called again desperately as the dragon released another breath of fire toward them.

The ground around Astrá turned red and flaky before rising as she prepared to launch what would have been her last move when Dariél appeared in her way and grabbed her hands. "Lady-Astrá, that is enough!" He cried ignoring the skin that stripped from his palms. 

Just as the fire was about to crash into them, Dariél brought up his burnt hands to erect a shield, but Shaél appeared out of his peripheral holding Minto by a horn with Miriá clinging to her dress, the very next second they were beneath Ashrótt's stomach and the front of the defense line had been hit with a terrible explosion.

"By the gods." Dariél whispered as he looked at the underbelly of the massive beast above them pass by, blasting torrent after torrent of magical flaming chaos into the helpless multitude gathered against him.

While Ashrótt passed above, Minto was slowly coming to his senses while his features were slowly returning to normal.

Taking notice of the dragon, he was ready to launch an attack but something was wrong, the magic he was once aware of in his body was gone, leaving him with a ridiculously small pool to summon magic from. 

Every limb, bone, and muscle in his body felt completely suppressed to the point where he was unable to stand up on his own, he could only kneel there in the position Shaél placed him in and watch with a torn heart as Ashrótt flashily flattened Eliós.

"Why is this happening?" Minto asked, trying and failing repeatedly to overcome his immobility. "Why are Dragons attacking the kingdoms like this, don't they already have an entire country to themselves?" He bitterly questioned still unable to move a muscle. 

"There can only be two suitable answers to that question, only two possibilities." Dariél spoke up as he cradled Astrá who was unconscious, causing Shaél to shake her head in the 'yes' while turning and helping Minto to his feet.

"The first one could be that Mardálokás, the Dragon King will wage war against Idgiá, they; the Dragons, certainly have the numbers and the power." Shaél wiped a small trickle of blood from her nose, an action that everyone noticed.

"What of the second possibility?" Wolfsword came crawling out of the ground littered with burns and bruises, it was a shock to see him alive after what had just happened to everyone else, but what Shaél had to say was far more important.

"If the king of Dragons is actually desperate to find this treasure then there might be a strong possibility that a new Demon King has been discovered, one that could become as much a menace as the first, this truth would spell the end of Idgiá, we would be consumed in a war that would destroy our continent and possibly spill over to the other ten, an apocalypse of blood metal and fire." Shaél concluded.

Minto's eyes turned to the ground as he thought of her words. "Another Demon King, after all this time?" He asked as the dark elf supported him that he wouldn't fall over. 

"As I said, it is just a possibility." Shaél murmured. "But a strong one."

"Then, we shouldn't waste any more time here." Minto looked at her. "We should leave now for Néthark, and take the crown before the Demon King can." 

"Minto, you speak stupidly, did you not just witness the power of a single Dragon?" Miriá stood in front of him. "You, the strongest of us was completely helpless against Ashrótt after swearing vengeance and training until your sweat became blood." She snapped. 

The latter of her outburst caused Shaél to glance at them indifferently.

"It was effective." Minto remarked, to which Shaél clicked her tongue and released him causing him to fall backward. 

"Effective you say?" She stood over him. 

"By breaking my body and rebuilding it beneath the Kilokloth I was able to become five times stronger than I was before." Minto replied in a monotone. "If I had more time, I'm sure I could have become strong enough to defeat Ashrótt."

Shaél sighed.

"Minto, you were not even his match just now when you summoned all your power to the surface, you even took on another form, yet you were still no match for a single breath." 

"I was unprepared, I will not fail the next time." He replied with his eyes fixed on the distant stars above. "I will follow him to the ends of Titon if need be, but Ashrótt will definitely fall by my own hands no amount of persuasion can stop me, this is my one reason for living." 

Nobody replied to that, in fact, nobody spoke at all.

For the remainder of the night, they sat on the plains and watched as Eliós went up in flames, unable to summon the strength to face the Dragon again, Miriá was too frightened to even move after she sat, Wolfsword had lost his strength and will to fight, Shaél was busy restraining Minto as he slowly regained his power, and Dariél dared not leave Astrá's side.

It was only at daybreak that Astrá regained consciousness when the three maids from her household came to find them. 

"Thank the gods!" Laná exclaimed as she came running over with her sisters on her heels. "I feared I would have found corpses, but here you are, harmed but alive!" 

"Lady-Astrá, I will heal your wounds immediately!" Kēéla came to a sliding halt at Astrá's side. "That blasted Dragon." She hissed as she began healing the burns on Astrá's back after helping her to sit up. 

"These wounds are not his doing, but I will never forgive that Dragon for taking my savior away I will hunt him down and one day end his existence." Astrá folded her fists with a wince. 

"Minto is not dead." Miriá sat beside Astrá with a sad expression on her face and dried tear stains.

"Then why are you on the verge of tears when you seem to have been crying already, do you mourn for the folk of Eliós?" Kēéla asked confused before looking over the girl's shoulders.

When her head lowered again, she too was fighting her tears back. 

"May the gods have mercy on your soul." She whispered before her tears began flowing freely.

"What is the matter with you?" Astrá asked trying to look over Miriá's shoulder as well.

"Please stay still Lady-Astrá." Kēéla sniffled. "Your wounds need proper care."

"What has happened?" Astrá asked again, staring Kēéla in her eyes and demanding an answer.

Reluctantly the elf turned her gaze and removing her hands she whispered. "Lady-Shaél has passed." 

For several seconds Astrá was still, but then she suddenly stood and looked to where Minto and Shaél were, there she saw the halfling silently weeping, cradling the elf on his arms. "I do not understand." Astrá ground her teeth and stood straight even though her body begged for more rest. "She suddenly died?" 

"We found out some time ago that she was ill, but we hadn't expected that she was this bad." Miriá hugged her knees to her chest and closed her eyes in a failing attempt to stop her tears. "Last night, when she protected you with those shields and that teleportation technique it seems that she had been fine, but to properly protect against Ashrótt's breath takes an enormous amount of magical power, she overextended herself and then kept it from us until the end."

Slowly they all congregated around her as Minto held her weeping, and they kept silent for several minutes before Minto took her bag from around her shoulder and connected it to his waist, then gently raised her and began walking.

"She spent her last breath telling me to smile a little." Minto felt torn, he couldn't smile, his heart was being squeezed with overbearing depression and sadness.

"Will you take her back to Wolfberry?" Dariél asked from behind.

"Wolfberry is now a desolate area full of nothing but charred land, ashes, and unmarked graves and bones, she would not wish for a burial in such a place, nobody would." Miriá tucked her hands in her pockets and kept her gaze on Minto's heels as he walked to the destroyed city of Eliós.

Thousands of crispy corpses laid strewn about, as far as one could see from left to right, the once lush grassy plains were black and charred beyond recognition.

When they walked past what was once a gate, they were surprised to see that many survivors were already in the midst of cleaning up what were once polished marble roads and brilliantly structured buildings. 

"I had expected to see Eliós deserted of life, but alas this city is strong, and it's people even stronger!" Wolfsword raised his muscular hands into the air before darting off to the side and helping a human male raise a large piece of debris that was blocking a building fortunate enough to survive from the night before.

Even some High Orc warriors who had fought against the dragon on the plains had survived, no doubt using the same mole magic Wolfsword had used to escape the explosive breath of Ashrótt.

As Astrá went on one knee to be welcomed by a sole child who recognized her, one of these Orcs raised a spear and cried out in anger before throwing it aimed for her abdomen.

Everyone's head snapped toward it but it was Miriá who grabbed it by the body when it was a mere inch away from taking Astrá's life.

The Orc, enraged drew her blade as she stepped along with her comrades toward Astrá and then opened her mouth.

"Our city does not welcome Demons!"