The Throne of Bones.

10. Opposing Forces

While he was on his way back to the mansion for the first time in three months, Minto took Astrá's eye and swallowed it.

It was as soft as cake, dissolving as it went down until it was gone what came next was a slight headache before his vision began to blur in his right eye and his right ear began picking up sounds that weren't there.

Soon his right eye was seeing street lights powered my magic while scores of people passed by, it wasn't long before he adjusted and was able to move again when the disorientating feeling faded.

"Are you okay?" Miriá asked looking at his right eye which now had a slight reddish hue similar to Astrá's.

"I'm fine, this is strange magic I have never witnessed before, Astrá is truly is amazing." Minto mumbled as he continued alongside Miriá to the mansion.

As soon as they reached the doors, the small house opened up to reveal the grand Crimson Fortress once more causing their eyes to go wide again just like the first time. "Yes, she really is." Miriá replied to Minto's previous statement.

"Miriá, Minto, why are you two here, and what happened to your hand?" Shaél appeared at their sides in a flash of black.

"An accident with fire magic." Minto replied to Shaél absently. "There was another Dragon attack within Idgiá, this time both Ashrótt and Kavák destroyed the entire kingdom of Draxin, nothing but fire and ruin remain." He added with an absent stare at his master, and Shaél remained motionless for a few seconds as the nonchalantly delivered news made tracks around her head.

"Where is Astrá?" She asked calmly.

"She left with Wolfsword." Miriá replied.

"So, she already knows then." Shaél stated before turning to the elf maid Álēne, who had been by her side without break for several weeks. "Álēne, help me pack, I am leaving immediately-"

"No!" Both Minto and Miriá exclaimed at the same time causing the two elves to share a look of concern.

"No?" Shaél asked with her head tilted.

"Master, your health is... in your condition you shouldn't... ugh, you can't." Miriá fought to find the right words.

"How did you know?" Shaél stared at them seemingly upset.

"It was me." Minto lowered his head. "I sensed something from the moment we met, but it became clear when we spent more time together that you aren't well, on fact you're far from it." Minto admitted. "I only recently told Miriá when I was completely sure."

"Sick, Is it serious?" Dariél appeared beside everyone with his usual unreadable self.

"It was not your place to check." Shaél gritted her teeth. "It was none of your business."

"You are terminally ill how is that not my problem!?" Minto suddenly snapped shocking everyone around him. "Did you expect to adventure out the rest of your time and die a glorious death, think about us a little here, you're our master and mother figure, when we couldn't help ourselves you were our caretaker, do you honestly believe it was wise to keep this a secret in the first place, so you could just suddenly die on us without any reason or explanation?! You... you." He fell short of any other words as silver tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. "They might have saved me from immediate danger, but you're the only reason I'm still alive..." He raised his hand to rub his eyes but stopped when Miriá did it for him.

Shaél who was taken aback by Minto's words silently turned and quickly went out the door with Álēne at her side before anyone could stop her.

Minto turned to follow but suddenly stopped and stared out as if he was in a trance.

"Minto?" Miriá called to him, but he just stood there motionless for several silent second before he shook his head and rage overlapped what looked like shock etched across his face...

Minto turned his head to Miriá then to everyone else who was in his immediate surrounding with a dark aura swiftly surrounding his body.

"Take me outside of the Crimson Fortress right now." Minto ordered Dariél in a tone dripping with so much venom he seemed like a different being.

"Why are you going outside?" Miriá asked, but his gaze silenced her.

"Dariél, now!" Minto snapped impatiently causing everyone to flinch.

"You should clean up first at least young master." Dariél tried to calm Minto down but his anger only seemed to grow.

The Kilokloth that had bound his magic began to unravel and fall of around him in a pool before turning to ash and then vanishing in white particles. "Now." He hissed at the Dark elf.

"Very well." Dariél adjusted his posture and extended his hand toward Minto. "Please take my hand and hold your breath young master." He instructed, and Minto did as he was told eagerly just as Miriá placed her hand on his.

Before Minto could tell the girl not to, they had both disappeared along with Dariél appearing on the other side with a slight dizziness.

As soon as they could grasp on to their own surroundings and sense the magicules around them they discovered a suffocating presence all around them, an unbelievable amount of magical power so dense it was almost physical.

But this was not their first encounter with this power, in fact their bodies were reacting to it out of familiarity.

"You feel this right?" Minto asked Miriá who now had her hands gripping her neck-length hair and partially gasping for breath. "You understand what this feeling is don't you?" He asked again before looking in a particular direction. "There's no doubt about it."

Miriá couldn't even speak, her mind was racing for anything as a means of calming, if even the slightest bit of composure to cling on to, but she could find nothing to bridge between the hatred, the anger, and the fear that collided in a tiny space like opposing elements inside of a small container.

"What is this power?" Dariél asked Minto while placing a hand on Miriá's back to calm her. "Why is it causing the coexisting magic variants of Eliós to go rampant?"

Minto grit his teeth and folded his fists as his wings slowly grew from his back tearing his worn-down shirt open. "Ashrótt approaches."

"Ashrótt..." Dariél mused before shock registered on his face which turned his already pale skin a sick shade paler. "I must get to Lady-Astrá before she decides to confront that monster!"

"M-Minto." Miriá called to him, holding on to his pinky finger with the strength of a sick child. "I, I can't feel my legs." She whispered right as Dariél ran off.

Minto pulled his finger away from her grasp and looked at her from beneath his wings as they opened wide for take-off.

"Miriá, if you can't fight, then run." Minto bent his knees and shook his feathers then with a powerful jump and a downbeat of his wings he took off into the air toward the walls, leaving her there to battle through her confliction alone.

The skies above Eliós became alive with hundreds of thousands of small blue sparkling lights as flying fist-sized fairies delivered the message of the coming dragon to every corner of the city.

Within mere minutes, every guild, company, and organization was aware and sending the best they had to offer to defend against the coming disaster.

Astrá was one of those in the lead as they went charging through the wide-open gates on all manner of beasts, she rode on a black salamander, and to her side was Wolfsword, atop his massive horse.

"Okorak, can we really be of any effect against a dragon?" Astrá asked with a glance that showed no faith.

"We are adventurers Lady-Astrá, such a beast will pay us handsomely, wether we can or can't we will slay this beast!" Wolfsword drew his sword and let out a mighty cry to rally those that rode alongside him as the low-flying Dragon came into view.

Man, Beast, Orc, Elf, Halfling, every able body came rushing through the gates creating a great thunder of feet, hooves, roars and screams, the ground quaked in their wake as their tens turned to hundreds and their hundreds turned into thousands and their thousands into tens of thousands of bodies charging toward Ashrótt.

The sky became alive with humans and elves in their hundreds riding atop black Pegasus as well.

"With me!" Astrá raised her hands and stood atop her salamander just as the beast caught itself on fire and shrieked running so fast and burning so fiercely that its feet left puddles of molten ground in its wake.

While others like Wolfsword began slowing down, Astrá and and hundreds of other humans, beasts, and elves riding on flaming salamanders bearing the insignia of the Crimson-Dragon Guild suddenly broke through the frontline speeding away from the amassing army.

Ashrótt opened his mouth, releasing a roar that shook the very land and skies causing many that had come out to fight to turn to the sides and flee away, cutting down an instant thirty percent of their numbers, but this only caused the ones who remained to become even more determined than before.

Ahead of the masses Astrá who was at lead stepped on her salamander causing it to arch it's back and send her flying forward as it turned to the side and ran inside of a circle made of runes that appeared in the ground, everyone else from her guild did the same as they drew closer and they all congregated in a long line landing mere feet away from each other.

While some began chanting in their own respective growl or language, others like Astrá only stood poised for a large-scale attack.

As seconds passed their hands and weapons aimed at the quickly approaching dragon, more specifically at his face.

Astrá was the first to release an explosion or raw power that became a great spark in front of her before suddenly shooting off a giant ball of red fire with the head of an arrow.

The others released their attacks as well, ranging from electric magic, to lightning and even more fire, all of which combined with Astrá's Great-fire-bolt which then grew even larger, tearing away at the very land and curving toward the Dragon's face.

Ashrótt was unable to suddenly stop himself, and he was too proud to dodge a head on challenge so he opened up his mouth and roared, releasing a pillar of Vermilion fire that collided with the attack of the Crimson-Dragon Guild and exploded in the shape of a mushroom rendering everyone who would dare to look at it temporarily blind.

"Prepare another!" Astrá ordered her guild as she began gathering magicules, but went speechless when she realized many of them had already exhausted their magical power in that one attack and some had even collapsed, the remaining few were a disappointing dozen. It was pathetic, but understandable, after all, Dragons were the most powerful beings in all of Titon.

From the fire before them, Ashrótt's head came forth with his throat burning with another tower of destruction being prepared, his feet slammed against the ground and his wings folded as he raised his horned head to better see the insects laid down before his path.

"Children of Eliós." The Dragon roared, already done preparing a breath of destruction. "Deliver to I: Ashrótt, the treasure of the King, or be you all Judged!"

While Ashrótt was speaking, Minto descended from the sky like an angel of doom before the army, his wings were the colour of obsidian and his barely red skin was now as dark as his mother's skin was, and his horns were a foot long each and the shade of blood, then beneath each of his eyes was a thin silver mark that ran down his cheek to his chin.

With the approaching flames of the Vermilion Dragon, Minto's silhouette turned its head to the skies with his wings wildly flapping and then he roared. "Ashrótt!"