WITHELEGHE
ALRIC
The capital of Witheleghe, Troms, had been a large city.
At one time, Troms had been the epitome of beauty. Sitting on the salt coast of Meera Bay, the walls were of red stone from the Maunga Mountains. The fortification served more as ornamentation than defensive.
The mighty King Darius of House Flandigana reigned with his queen, Ophelia over Witheleghe. His magic was greater than in all the three realms.
The whole of the city lay on escalating terrace greens, intertwining stone buildings with gardens and tall Brupses trees. A white crystal tower known as Mazava sat in the center of the capital from which King Darius ruled.
From the top of the tower, the entire of Troms could be seen: the trades along both the marine bay and the wide brick streets, lodging of the inhabitants of the city, temples to Elohim including the Temple of Etar, garden and fountains, even the brothels and baths.
Beyond the walls lay the lands of the Orimons. Each of the Houses held their own special magic. Yet, none of the Houses had ever risen against the Flandigana reign… not successfully for over five thousand years.
Greed and envy were not only the weakness of men. Magical beings were not immune to the draw of power and wealth. Yet, they, too, had never risen against the Flandigana rule.
Flandigana magic had allowed the realm to live in peace and tranquility. Flandigana were pledged to the betterment of their people, bonded to that oath.
In turn, the one Flandigana who reigned held the most powerful magic of all—Vaellyn—the ability to enhance or weaken the powers of others.
There were none who could challenge the Flandigana reign… until Asmeodai.
Betrayal and treachery had allowed King Darius’s reign to fall.
Asmeodai had killed King Darius in one swift thrust of a knife. King Darius had not even seen his assailant.
During the Darkening, Troms had been devastated. Dragons attacked from above. Arachnidans emerged within the walls, killing any in sight.
There had been no mercy.
After the invasion, Asmeodai had ordered his killer dragons destroyed. The dragons had been bred for war. They could not be controlled.
Yet… one Arachnidan dragon survived.
Jordris the Red.
The largest, most ferocious dragon Asmeodai had crossed into Witheleghe. It was said Jordris once swallowed a fleogan whole.
For more than a decade, the skies over Trom had been quiet. There had been no animal left that could fly, except the small birds. Asmeodai had killed any that dared, especially the fleogans. He wanted nothing more than to ensure the sigil of Flandigana was wiped out.
Most of Troms still lay in rumble. Moreover, the city still smelled of death and doom.
Yet, work had been done. A fortified brick wall had been erected, studded with bastions. A massive gate had been added where no entry was given unless ordered by Asmeodai. The crystal tower, Mazava, had turned black where a dark flame burned.
The Arachnidan Night Raiders patrolled the streets, allowing the Arachnidan inhabitants to have full reign of the city. Homes and businesses that had been rebuilt had been for the Arachnidans.
The Withelegheans whom remained were now slaves. The Arachnidans forced them to live in squalor. The slum was placed on the north side of the city, close to the tunnel Asmeodai was determined to build his connection to the Siochanta Realm.
In the dead of night, the Arachnidans would come and drag out those that were chosen to go work in the tunnel, Parkua of Death, as the slaves called it. The slaves lived in constant fear of being one of the chosen. No one came back from the Parkua of Death.
When the sun went down, the streets became quiet and still.
A full moon shone the night the beast came. The silence of the night was broken.
Shrieking and hissing, a dragon circled high in the sky, ominously shadowing the city beneath him. He flew low with his jaw snapping and his tail lashing back and forth.
The moonlight reflected off his crimson scales. His horns were outlined in the glimmer of light as his talons flexed in the air.
Soaring back upward, he outstretched his wings and hovered for a moment. His screech pierced the night’s air as he folded his wings and dived.
The red dragon opened his mouth and unleashed his dragon-fire. Flames spread throughout the city’s streets.
Jordris the Red had returned.