Dawn Weaver: Soul Flames, #1

Synopsis

An ancient evil stirs in the kingdom of Avaraline, and the fate of all life in a world blessed by magic hangs in the balance. The Guilds and Clans, who hold the power of the lands, are ill equipped to deal with the unknown threat, with corruption spreading through their ranks.

Not that this is of any consequence to Izen, a young man struggling to survive in a dying village, and Myne, a talented young Dragon rider seeking to prove herself. That is until the infamous Witch is sensed near his village and Izen becomes intertwined in world of the Dragon riders. Literally, with the magic awakening in him too. The complication, is that only females can be riders.

Table of Contents

1. Awakening

2. First Steps

3. The Search

4. Companionship

5. Rescue Mission

6. Secrets & Truths

7. Darkness Rising

8. Facing the Clan

9. Expanding Horizons

10. Intensity

11. Ascension

12. The Witch’s Legacy

13. Nature of the Enemy

14. Dawn Weaver

Epilogue

Chapter 1 – Awakening.

It really wasn’t something that Myne had expected to fall into her lap. Especially since the bounty had only been out for a few weeks, rumours of the witch’s movements only recently resurfacing.

There was no way that she was going to pass on it though. It was the chance of a lifetime after all. Sure, she had apparently killed some dragon riders, but that was nearly a myth, something that had happened over twenty years ago, and never since. She would show her peers and the lady knights what she was capable of.

She was going to single handedly capture Lyrissa the Witch.

Myne smiled to herself as she raced across the complex of Southern Temple of the Sisters of the Radiant Dawn, her heart already pumping, her onyx aspected magic flowing through her and reinforcing her body, battle senses at the ready. None of the other riders seemed to have noticed yet, still meandering and lazing about in what was a glorious day, but that would just work to her advantage. Her dragon familiar wasn’t the biggest, but he was one of the fastest, which would just increase her head start. It wasn’t like the sensing wards were hers or anything either. She was just a little more sensitive to them than the others.

She had felt the spike all to clearly, and even the region from which it had come. The wards were old, and not well understood at all, but their purpose was clear. To sense and alert the dragon riders when powerful dark magic was detected within the kingdom of Avaraline. Dark magic like demons, powerful night beasts, and the infamous witch. It was rare that they went off. Incursions by demons almost non existent, and few night beasts had the level of power necessary to trigger it. Mind you, when they did, it was always a team of lady knights that went to make short work of the monster. The wards had triggered enough times since she had awakened as a dragon rider that she recognized it for what it was, the certainty as to the cause an aspect of her magic.

Myne whistled as she reached the dragon stables, her familiar Vel’nas giving a roar in response, just as eager for the challenge as she was. Feedback from their bond, the understanding there between them. Sprinting into his stable, she yanked the saddles off their hook and all but throwing them over his back, then leaping up there herself, making sure that the bags were secure enough as the emerald dragon made his way out of the stable and into the clear area outside.

Checking to make sure that there was no one in the way, she leaned down close against her dragon, feeling his warmth and strength.

Let’s go get her, she whispered to Vel’nas. The words didn’t mean much to the dragon, but he’d understand her intent.

Stretching his wings, Vel’nas surged into the air.

The landscape flowed by quickly underneath them as they flew south east, the cold of the wind of little concern due to the enchantments on the skeon that she wore, and the sheer mass of her dragon. Average in size amongst the dragons of the Dragon Rider clan, he stood at twice her height, with a wingspan twice that again. He had been only half that size when he’d been summoned from her magic and bonded during her awakening, but his growth since then had been rather impressive. Irrespective of what others thought of his breed, she was more than proud of him, and wouldn’t want any other familiar by her side. Not that that was a choice, but her view on that was clear nethertheless, Vel’nas emitting a happy rumble in response.

She could see the mass of the Weeping Forests stretching out along the horizon, the area that the signal had come from. It coated the entire southern tip of the kingdom, stretching along a part of the border with the Southern Peaks, and then up along the Horstern Cliffs till they finally flattened out into the beaches against the Circle Sea. From memory, there was only one village that was situated near the forest itself, an old mining settlement with residents that were too stubborn to move, even though the mythril veins had long been exhausted and the rest of the kingdom considered the forest to be cursed. The forests were after all thick and dark, damp with as many vines and brambling bushes as tall trees, mists the norm. Not even the lumberjacks of the guild bothered with it.

With the flight taking around two hours, it was mid afternoon by the time Myne and Vel'nas reached their destination, dust billowing around them as Vel'nas landed on the dry farmland of Evergreen. It’s name had long since expired, but she was surprised at just how run down it seemed. Weathered and well past it’s prime. The bulk of the houses had boards that were warped and cracked, with a few that had been mostly stripped for materials to do the patchwork repair on the remainder, nothing more than skeletons for the winds to whistle through. The barns were mostly filled with just shadows and the animals looked thin and pathetic, scrounging around their paddocks for what food that they could find or lounging in the shade. To the east of the village she could see the remains of a mine shaft along with the skeletons of some mining huts and a refining plant, the reason the village was originally founded on such poor terrain.

Surely at the least there would be some shardlings present in the village to help maintain it. While they were the weakest form of magic, they were also the most common, and a bit of wood aspected magic could do wonders for maintaining a house. Ditto for water aspected magic at helping coax the water to go where you wanted it to. Small, sometimes almost inconsequential powers, but enough to make life that little bit easier. Definitely made lighting fires easier if you had a fire shardling. Unless of course the villagers weren’t all as stubborn as she’d assumed, and those who could had fled to the bigger cities to work for the guilds or the clan, leaving behind those who would not or could not go.

She’d find out soon enough though. Her arrival hadn’t gone unnoticed. A dragon landing in your backyard tended to do that. Locating the group of villagers that appeared to be giving her the most attention, and looked like they might have some importance, that whole aged and wiser thing, she wandered over as Vel’nas sat where he’d landed and watched. He’d be fine. People knew not to bother familiars, they tended to not be friendly to others. It was time for her to locate the witch.

------/------

Izen coughed, trying to clear the dust out of his throat, as he waved his hand to try and shoo some of it away. It didn’t work of course. There was just too much of it flooding around him, the air now thick and brown. Just his luck that he’d been scrounging around one of the old fields, trying to find the remains of one of the waste water pipes that ran from the long abandoned mythril mine when the rider had landed. The pipes hadn’t been used in a long time, and were quite likely eroded beyond usefulness, but he wouldn’t know unless he looked, and he needed it for his current irrigation project. Their yields from the fields were steadily dropping, even in the last few months, and things were starting to get a lot more desperate. He’d already exhausted all of the other options.

It wouldn’t have been as bad had some of the shardlings stayed in the village, but they’d all left, taken by the guilds most recent recruiting drive. Even the mayor’s daughter. Not that he was surprised, surviving was definitely a higher priority than blood ties. Heck, even he’d have left if he’d had the chance, but having no trace of magic in him at all, no one had been willing to take him. Izen sighed, the memory a bitter one.

Picking himself up, Izen moved off to the side, trying to get out of the dust cloud, another beat of the dragon’s wings causing him to stumble backwards. There was certainly a lot of power in that creature, not that he’d even been that close to one before. One didn’t get close to a rider’s familiar, if you valued your limbs. Bracing himself for any more gusts, he was pleased when no more came, the dust finally settling around him. He then almost stumbled back again when he realised just how close to the creature he was. It hadn’t landed that close, he’d definitely seen it set down in the next field over before he’d ducked down to try and avoid the worst of the fallout. But now it was right there beside him, within touching distance, its ruby eyes staring at him, the hint of intelligence within them.

It was a beautiful creature, and every bit the traditional dragon. He’d read about a few outliers, but the form of this one was pretty much perfect, it’s body speaking of power and speed. It’s leathery wings a deep forest green, scales deep sea emerald green, and claws a jet black. An emerald dragon. Considered to be one of the weaker species of familiar if you believed the rankings that had been compiled over the centuries that dragon riders had existed for, but looking at this one Izen certainly didn’t believe that.

Good boy, he said carefully, trying to mask the fear in his voice, as he slowly stepped back. As much as he liked the creatures, he certainly didn’t want to end up as a dragon’s snack, and he really had no idea what one should do if you ended up this close by accident.

The dragon just continued to look at him, with what seemed to be an amused grin.

Gaining a bit of confidence, he took a few more steps back, and then started walking back towards the village. He breathed a sigh of relief when the dragon just sat there. There was no way that he’d be able to resume his search for the pipe though. Bending over briefly to grab his shovel from where it had been blown, he made his way back to the centre of the village itself, stopping in the shade of what had once been Alruns Tradehouse. It hadn’t been that for most of his life though, just a hollow shell that had mostly been stripped. At least it still had its roof. It was typical of the buildings in the town square. What once was busy and thriving was now almost a ghost town.

Izen looked out over the town square.

The rider was easy to spot. She stood out amongst all of the villagers, whom he recognised all of anyways. There weren’t many of them left here after all. The rider was beautiful, stunning even, and he couldn’t help but stare. He may have even been a little jealous. Not that she noticed, deep in conversation with the mayor of the village, most of the older villagers standing around near them. They didn’t really have much else to do after all.

She was tall, her figure both athletic and attractive, with a full chest, shoulder length straight jet black hair, and bronze toned skin. She looked to be around his age. So, young all things considered, given that he was twenty one. He noticed that her eyes were a soft green, glinting in the light as she briefly looked around the town square, but missing his presence, before returning to talking with the mayor. Her clothes, if you could call them that, were skintight, black and shiny, covering all of her body. Skeon if he remembered correctly. The material enchanted well and was the realm of those with plenty of money to burn. Didn’t hide much at all either.

Covering her shoulders, arms and upper back was close fitting armour, almost as snug as the skeon, formed from tiny layered plates that were a pale black with a green tinge. Her knee high boots were also made of the same material. Dragon bone armour, the signature armour of riders, summoned from their magic, and unique to each rider. It suited her well, though it still left the bulk of her body still exposed, and he really didn’t understand how it would actually provide her much protection at all.

He could count on his hands how many times he’d seen a rider. They weren’t that common, being of the gem grade of magic, and they really had no reason to be out here. Feral’s he’d seen a few of, usually with the guilds during their recruitment drives, animalistic features marking that type of gem grade. Probably plenty of casters as well, though without any distinguishing features you couldn’t actually tell that they were of gem grade until they used their power. Mind you, the same applied to lattice souls, the most powerful grade of magic. You were in the dark till they used their power, especially as some of them had features that you’d normally associate with other types. Some lattice souls were also ferals or riders. Even for them though certain fundamentals stayed true. Animalistic features were the realm of ferals, and riders were always female.

That rider’s grade was definitely gem though. He could feel the presence of her onyx from here, which was unusual in itself. Being able to sense another’s magic usually wasn’t a thing, unnoticed till it was actually used. There was something definitely strange about this one.

But it also wasn’t really of concern to him either. Taking one last look at her, Izen shrugged, and then moved out of the shade of the building, around it and out towards the fields on the forest side of the village. Time was a wasting, and even if he couldn’t get the pipes he was after, he still had a trench to dig. With any luck, and probably a lot more effort, they might be able to get some form of harvest from the field.

Must be nice to be a rider though. Yeah, he was a little jealous.

The villagers looked at Myne with a mix of awe and worry when she finally made her way to the town square, most then turning and making a show of ignoring her presence. Probably not wanting any trouble, and she couldn’t blame them. Their clothes were not much better than their lodgings, and she struggled to see many that were fully dressed. Those that were she wouldn’t have said so under normal circumstances. Weathered and well tanned was the most positive description that she could think of for them. The scattering of tools that she could see lying around were just as worn, and to be honest she couldn’t really fathom why the village had managed to survive this long. There was also a lack of young blood, almost everyone that she could see well into their years.

A frail old man, who looked to be the mayor of the village, stood up from his chair under the shade of a nearby building, dust falling off him that was likely put there by her landing. He started to make his way slowly and unstably over to her, cane in one hand supporting each step. Knowing she’d be waiting a while she made her way over to him instead.

To what do we owe your presence young one? he wheezed, catching his breath.

I’m looking for a dangerous old lady Myne stated. The Witch Lyrissa. We have sensed her presence in this area.

The old man gave her an odd look. Old ladies we have a plenty, he said with a toothless grin, but none more dangerous than a mouse. I think if your witch was here, we’d be in a much better state than we are.

Myne glared at the elder, her composure put off by his cheekiness in the present of a dragon rider.

The mayor then looked around at the others nearby. Know anything about a witch? he asked.

A chorus of mumbled no’s, haven’t heard of her, and what’s that, echoed around her.

Myne sighed and shook her head, glancing around the square as the last of the old folk gave their input. It really was a ghost town. For all she knew, all these people could be ghosts, if such things actually existed.

You’re welcome to look around to your hearts content, the mayor said once he had her attention again. Not that we could stop you anyway. I pray that you do not find what you are seeking here, as we do not want the trouble. We have enough of our own as you can surely tell.

At the least it is a change of scenery I guess he added, waving his arm to indicate that she had the freedom to search. Not that she needed it as he had pointed out. She was a Dragon Rider and she would do as she pleased.

Thank you, she said anyway. There wasn’t any need to make enemies of these people.

Closing her eyes, she called her magic to her and sent it out from herself, sweeping it out over the village, and then frowned. Something was amiss. It felt as if the entire area was covered in a thick mist that was masking everything within it, dampening out any magical signatures. She opened her eyes and looked around. Nothing had changed. The sun was still beating down upon the dust bowl of a village, no mist in sight.

Any casters or lattice souls in the village? she asked the mayor.

He laughed sarcastically, coughing from the effort. No. We’ve never been that lucky, and they’d all be long gone if any had been born here. Not a shred of magic above the baseline.

The other villages gave her a look like she’d asked the most stupid question ever.

Frowning, she ignored them, and proceeded to wander around town square. When she wasn’t using the sensing magic, her superior version something that was unique to her aspect and that she was quite proud of, everything felt normal.

She returned back to the villages. Any strange visitors of late? she queried.

Any visitors at all? The mayor shook his head. No one wants to come here. Apart from you it seems.

When did you last have visitors then?

The mayor thought for a moment. Half a year ago. The final recruitment.

Myne did a larger circuit through the village and then walked back to Vel'nas. There was no signs of any other riders yet, which was a good thing, but she was rather miffed at the lack of any progress. Given how sharp the sense had been, she had expected to pretty much run into the witch when she arrived, not be doing circuits through a wasteland. Vel’nas bent down and nuzzled her when she reached him.

Summoning her magic to herself, she doubled the intensity before sending it flowing out again. The haze was there, but this time she could sense something. Somewhere in the outskirts of the village was a source of magic, but it was confusing. Like it existed, but not.

Then another signature popped into existence, sending a shiver down her spine. There was no mistaking that one. Her eyes snapped open. The Witch was definitely in the surrounding area.

Humming softly to herself she sent out tendrils of magic, summoning all nearby dracokin to the location of the witch. Small lizard like creatures and endemic to southern Avaraline, they were thought to be a distant relation to the magical familiars of the riders, and would respond to the calls of talented riders. While it may indeed be cursed, the Weeping Woods was home to a lot of them, and they definitely had their uses. Especially here.

------/------

Izen looked along the trench he was digging. He hadn’t made nearly as much progress as he had thought. He was drenched in sweat, which, mixing with the dust from earlier, was making him feel like he was wearing a coating of mud. In fact he probably was. It was turning out to be one of those days. The trench wasn’t easy to dig, this section parched and dry even before you factored in the clay layer underneath. But that also made it suitable for the task that he had in mind.

But at the rate he was going, he was probably going to lose a good half days of work. Even though she wasn’t nearby, the rider was still distracting him, his thoughts wandering.

His concentration was broken by the sound of a strange raspy barking, and looking up towards the forest he saw what appeared to be a strange old lady in a deep green cloak and cane in hand, surrounded by some strange rat-like creatures as she tried to make her way towards the village. Every few steps a rat would bark oddly and then lunge at her, and only through a combination of stumbling, wild swings of the cane, and sheer luck, was the old lady avoiding being bitten by them. It was only going to be a matter of time before one of them got her though. Without giving it a second thought he leapt out of the trench he was digging, and shovel in hand, raced towards her, yelling at the creatures to scram. They must have come out of the Weeping Forest, not that he’d ever seen any on his numerous hunting excursions into its depths.

Seeing his approach, the old lady slowed down a little, a grateful expression on her weathered and aged face. Even in the time it took him to get to her, the old lady, by some still continuing miracle, managed to avoid getting bitten by the rats. Pounding across the dusty terrain, Izen took a big swing with his shovel, slamming it into a rat creature and sending it flying back towards the forest edge. Following up with a kick he managed to knock another one onto its back a few feet away, the rat snarling as it got up and lunged back towards him. Which he just stepped out of the way of, shovel deflecting the creature to the side.

Sensing a change in the situation, a number of the rats moved their focus to Izen, attempting to surround him while staying shy of his shovel and his swings at them. The rat creatures seemed off. They weren’t moving and behaving like their stature would suggest, and after his initial success on the first couple, they seemed to have learnt and adapted.

Keep moving towards the village, he said to the old lady, trying to draw the rats away from her.

Changing tactic, he feinted a swing with the shovel and a kick, before following up with an uppercut with the shovel, sending another rat careening towards the trees. Building on the advantage, he dropped down, bringing the shovel down heavily with him, pounding another one into the ground and stopping it’s movement.

And then something changed. He sensed some movement from behind him, turning just in time to spot a rat descending down on him from above. Reacting instinctually, he raised his arm across his face to shield himself. Izen yelled in agony as the claws of the rat gouged deep into his arm, a fiery pain spreading down it. Then something impacted with his head, and he dropped to the ground, everything going black.

------/------

Myne leapt onto Vel'nas’ back, sending clouds of dust everywhere as he rose back into the air. Climbing just high enough to gain clear visibility, they flew over the town’s structures and towards the forest edge. As they neared, Myne spotted a figure exiting the forest, surrounded by dracokin, the lizard like creatures unsuccessfully lunging at her, trying to keep her pinned. Whether by luck or skill, the frail old lady seemed to be avoiding every attack, but Myne suspected the latter. Appearances were deceiving, and the Witch was a force to be reckoned with. It was definitely her too, her signature clear and precise.

Myne watched in startled confusion as a young man leapt out of what appeared to be a shallow trench, shovel in hand, and raced towards the old lady. What on earth was he up to. Even the slaves in Avaraline were aware the dracokin bowed to the whims of talented riders. Was he really trying to interfere with her mission?

The young man ran into the fray, and with a swing of his shovel sent one of the dracokin careening into the trees. Myne was both impressed and annoyed. She knew that there would be casualties fighting against the Witch, but that was a necessary price for bringing in one as infamous as her. Getting smacked by a shovel though was a different story all together, and not anyone was capable of that feat.

The young man kicked another, but then the dracokin adapted, as they do, and split into two groups, trying to surround both the old lady and the young man. While the young man made some more unsuccessful attacks at the dracokin, the old lady looked up at Myne, and gave her a strange smile.

The witch knew exactly what was going on it seemed. As to who the young man was, and why he was involved, she’d find out soon enough.

The young man altered tactics, catching another dracokin with his shovel and sending it flying. It was time to end this.

Myne jumped off Vel'nas, reinforcing herself with her magic, a small crater forming from her impact with the ground. Commanding the dracokin to attack him from above, she ran towards the man. Reacting to her command, one of the dracokin behind the young man launched itself into the air and then plummeted down. Sensing the threat, the young man spun around, raising his arm in defence, but he was too late. The dracokin racked its claws down his arm, gouging deep, blood pouring out as he yelled out in pain. Closing in from his blind spot, she smacked him in the head, his body slumping to the ground unconscious. She then spun around, her attention on the old lady.

Such fury young lady. The old lady spoke in a soft voice, not at all what Myne had expected from the Witch. Myne had expected more of a cackle. Raising one of her arms up, the old lady stepped back. What ill have we done you...

Surrender, witch, Myne interrupted confidently. I know who you are. Your murderous days are over.

I think you’re mistaken, Rider, the old lady replied, still softly and disconsolately. And you have done this young man of the village a disservice. But as his life hangs in the balance, we will go with you for now.

The old lady smiled innocently at Myne as she rested her weight on her cane, but in those soft last words she could also sense a command. It didn’t seem right at all. Capturing the infamous witch couldn’t be this easy. But now that she had her, she wasn’t going to let her go.

Watch her please, Vel'nas, she said of her Familiar. Should she even move, bite her head off.

Leaning down, she took a good look at the young man. Like the rest of the villagers he clothes were barely that, and even his boots were only just holding together. His chestnut brown hair was roughly cut like he had tried to do it himself, and his face was almost handsome, if you were that way inclined. He definitely was one of the villagers, even though his muscular frame was on the borderline of what should be possible with the sustenance the village would likely have available. His fighting technique was odd too, and she was actually impressed by what he had managed, though the dracokin that he had hit weren’t so happy with him, growling as they stood at guard around them. His right arm was a shredded mess, blood pooling on the ground. She ripped his shirt off him with ease, intending to use it as a bandage, before she realised exactly how dirty it was. Tossing it away, she carefully made her way around Vel’nas, keeping an eye on the witch, and quickly rummaging around in her saddlebag for something suitable. Pulling out an empty cloth bag, she tore it open, and used it to bandage his arm. It was quickly soaked with blood, but it’d suffice for the moment. She was the wrong alignment to have access to any healing magic, so she’d have to get him back to Cammine or one of the other sisters at the temple complex. She looked back up at the old lady, who just smiled sweetly at her.

Others will be here shortly, Myne stated to the old lady, glaring at her and feeling unsettled. At least she hoped so, otherwise she’d have to go with plan B to get them both back, which would be a bit uncomfortable. She did feel a bit bad about the young man though. Hopefully he would survive this. It wasn’t a life threatening wound, but it could complicate.

Something else was off though, and she couldn’t put her finger on it.

------/------

Fiery pain in his arm brought Izen back to the world of the conscious. He had been lying on a solid stone slab on one side of the chamber in which he now found himself. His surroundings were dim, damp and cold, in other words unpleasant. Forcing himself to sit up, throbbing pain surged through his head. Something or someone had hit him in the head, and he was still feeling it now. He shivered in the cold, realizing that in the interim since last being awake his shirt had been taken. Looking down at his arm he found that it had been wrapped in clean white bandages, though blood was still seeping out through them. He groaned, and turned to survey the rest of the room. There were stone walls on all four sides, with a solid looking wood and metal door in the middle of one, and a low ceiling. The room was otherwise bare, apart from the old lady, who stood on the opposite side of the room, watching him with interest.

Finally awake I see, she said in a soft yet commanding voice. What is your name?

Izen, Izen replied, his thoughts still a bit fuzzy from his wounds. I’m glad you’re alright. hr added. Where are we? he asked, suddenly confused as to where they were.

You’re in quite a difficult predicament, Izen, the old lady stated, though through no fault of your own. She then grinned Well, sort of actually. she added. Izen gave her a confused look.

We’re in the dungeons of the Sisters of the Radiant Dawn. This place doesn’t really match their name does it, she paused before continuing. Some of them believe that you are my apprentice, while others think that you are just a good hearted young man who was in the wrong place. Either way, you gained quite the wound, and needed healing that only they could provide, so the Sisters were so kind as to cooperate.

Izen nodded, the events of the battle coming back to him as his head started to clear. The way that she said that last bit made it sound like they didn’t have a choice.

And who are you then, that Dragon Riders have such an interest in you? He asked.

Oh just some old lady passing by, she answered with a comical edge to her tone that also told him that that was all he was going to learn about her. An old lady just passing by she certainly wasn’t though. You don’t just go for a casual walk in the Weeping Forest.

Izen sighed, which unfortunately sent another ache through his body. He was surprised that he wasn’t dead, but also confused as to what actually happened in the battle. Too many things didn’t make sense. He was normally cautious in combat, weighing up the odds before engaging, but in this case he had just rushed in. And rats certainly do not fly. He also wanted, nay needed to learn more about this strange old lady, but he knew that today would not be when. He groaned, and lay back on the slab, regretting doing so straight away.

Do you wish to survive this, Izen, the old lady asked, a serious edge to her voice.

Of course I do, he snapped, regretting his tone straight away and looking down at the floor. Sorry, Yes I do, he then said. This place has me on edge.

I’m not surprised, affirmed the old lady. You don’t belong here.

The old lady reached inside her cloak and pulled out two crumpled black garments, lobbying them at him. He unfolded them and held them up for a better view. The cold silky texture told him straight away what they were. Skeon garments, just as the rider had been wearing. Jet black with a faint magic glow.

You want me to wear these? he questioned, confused. These are the clothes of the Riders, are they not?

Not to mention that they’re all female, he added.

Astute, she replied. Yes, for you to wear. Not that you have much else on anyways. And no, don’t ask from where they came.

Izen looked down at himself, realizing that she was right. His shirt was of course gone, and there wasn’t much left of the rest of his clothes. Whatever condition they had been in had been made worse by the obvious rough handling of getting them here, and treatment of him after that. He was sure he had more bruises than what he had gained in the fight. Maybe someone had kicked him, just for good measure.

He contemplated for a while, before shrugging. Sure, why not. What have I got to lose? If it got him out of the dungeon, it was worth a shot. Right?

Standing up, he stripped what remained of his clothes, and then proceeded to put on the provided Skeon garments. At least he wasn’t as muddy as he recalled being. Perhaps they had actually cleaned him when they’d treated his wound. Bodysuit first, then tights, they slipped on easily, fitting him like a second skin. He was surprised to find that he even liked the feel of the fabric on him, though he was embarrassed by how it showed off every aspect of him. Every aspect, including those he’d rather not show. They looked much better on the female form.

You’re right, the old lady grinned, stepping closer to him. When you decide you want additional training, come find me, she added, in a suddenly serious tone.

Huh? was all that Izen was able to manage before he was knocked out again, this time by the old lady’s cane.

Sorry, young one, the old lady stated to an unconscious Izen as she removed his arm bandage. This was the only way to awaken you.

------/------

Myne woke to find the southern temple of the Sisters of the Radiant Dawn in a panic. Tumbling out of her bed, only half awake from a lack of sleep but still fully dressed, she summoned her armour and raced out the door to try and find out what the panic was.

What’s going on? she asked of the first servant that she bumped into in the dorms corridors.

The servant looked back at her with fear in her eyes. The prisoners have escaped. she stated worriedly. The Witch has escaped. The guards found a Sister lying badly wounded on the stairs this morning when they went to change shift, and the cell empty with it’s door wide open. The previous shifts guards are missing too! We have no idea where she is, she could even still be here, somewhere, waiting to devour more of us! With that the servant hurriedly rushed off, almost tripping over herself in her panic.

Myne swore to herself. She knew it. It had all been too easy. But the question of why had the Witch been willing to be brought here nagged at her. While none of the Lady Knights were here at the moment, by dawn they would be starting to arrive they would have been more than a match for the Witch. In part given the superiority in numbers and experience, but also because a number of them were lattice souls. The highest known grade of magic, lattice souls were leagues above the gem grade, and Lady Knight Sylph, who was regarded as being the most powerful Dragon Rider of all, was one. The Witch wouldn’t have known who was present at the temple however. It just didn’t add up.

She couldn’t let the panic unbalance her. Calming herself, she sent her magic out to scan the temple complex. If the Witch was still here she would be able to sense her. She was well aware of her signature after all.

The Southern Temple of the Sisters of the Radiant Dawn was the oldest of the dragon riders temple complexes, established when the first bonds were being made with dragon familiars, founded by the first rider, Lady Knight Cousair van Elmir, who of course was now long gone. In a time when magic was new, it didn’t take humanity long to work out the different types of manifestations, and so the Clans and Guilds were formed. It became apparent very quickly that special locations would be needed for the housing of the Clans, as the dragons dwarfed any other creatures that mankind had ever domesticated, and so the temple complex was built.

The temple complex was massive, comparable to a village in size and larger than any of those in the nearby vicinity. The temple itself, which accounted for a quarter of the complex, was constructed from magically reinforced white marble with enchanted stained glass windows on the northern face that told the history of the Clan. The inside of the temple was empty. It was where the riders completed their initiations, practised their magic and summoned their Familiars when they awakened, through a ritual developed by the founding lady, and jealously guarded by the clans, and hence a lot of room was required. It was large enough to just fit prime dragon familiar, but only one of those had ever been summoned by the Sisters of the Radiant Dawn, and that was of course by the Lady Knight Corsair van Elmir, so none had ever actually been inside it. While still massive in size, even the largest of the current familiars were small compared to a prime, but at least the temple provided ample space for the familiars to stretch their wings.

On the eastern side of the temple were the ritual chambers, where permanent magics were housed, as well as the rooms of the senior riders and enchanters. Deep under the temple but exiting near the fields were the dungeons, which while seldom used were as old as the temple itself and more than capable to securing most captives. The dungeon always gave Myne the creeps whenever she had to venture down into them, its history leaving permanent marks in its magical fabric.

To the west of the temple was the dorms for the sisters, as well as the few casters and ferals that made the temple their home, and the stables for their familiars. As for the rest of the complex, they were constructed from ironwood and beechwood, and were a much more modest affair than the temple. The three story dorms sat in the middle of a loose ring of stables and dual dwellings. While some riders preferred to share their quarters with their familiars, most lived separately in the dorms, with their familiars sleeping in the specially designed stables. The construction of the dual dwellings had been fairly recent, as it had been originally decreed by the leaders of the Clan long ago that it wasn’t practical, but that ruling had lapsed in recent times.

While the dorms had the capacity for over a hundred sisters, less than twenty currently resided there, as most had migrated to the newer temples closer to the capital. The temple complex was still home to a decent number of people though, even given the low number of sisters, with the bulk being serving staff and a few devouts and slaves. As the sisters were often active, it was up to the commoners and shardlings to deal with the daily routines, and many sisters also left the care of their familiar in the hands of the stable staff, something that the founders of the clan would have been aghast at. As a result, much of the serving staff was comprised of families who had pledged fealty to the clan generations ago, and they lived in humble dwellings to the south of the temple, with all of the remaining facilities of the complex interspersed between them, such as the infirmary, the weaving hut, refinery, and alchemist labs. The true village of the complex in essence.

To the east of the temple were the fields, barns and paddocks and orchard. The sisters here kept a small amount of livestock and grew their own crops, looked after by the serving staff of course, but it was one of the few temple complexes to do so, with all of the others either being gifted or trading for what they needed, or being supplied some amount by ones like the