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Heterosexual
✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧
"You never have to prove yourself to anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are."
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Post by ✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧ on Feb 8, 2024 17:26:09 GMT -5
"If I'm not out in twenty minutes, then the coast isn't clear. I'll be dead," Morgan stated. "Simple as that. So, yes, Kyra, you are going to fetch reinforcements. This is my mission, remember? For the next twenty-four hours what I say goes. For all we know, this magician is part of the test, because the Elves are twice as powerful with magic. And this is my test, and mine alone. So get out, and if I don't join you in twenty minutes then it's not a test, and I'm dead and you need to get help. Do you hear me?"
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Feb 8, 2024 19:05:00 GMT -5
There were a whole lot of words she could have flung right back at him, but Kyra held her tongue. She did nothing to hide the anger that was burning in her gaze, but she didn't berate him with further words. His mission, her ass. If the Rebel leaders wanted to give him a test against magic, they would have paired him with another magic user, not her. Otherwise, why give him a "useless" companion? She refused to believe she would be here solely for the role of a messenger. At least, she hoped so for Sebastian and Nick's sake. Otherwise, she would not let that insult slip by without notice. She continued to say nothing as she turned and headed back towards the ladder to begin her search for a possible second entrance.
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Heterosexual
✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧
"You never have to prove yourself to anyone who doesn't accept you for who you are."
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Post by ✧☽ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴇʀ ☾✧ on Jun 5, 2024 10:44:22 GMT -5
Morgan regretted being so harsh the moment Kyra turned her back and stormed off, but he couldn't take it back. Test or no test, there was a Magician behind the next door, and he would need much more magic than what he had in reserve to fight it. That meant he'd have to siphon, and he'd be damned if Kyra became just another life source for his power to pull from.
He waited until Kyra was out of sight. Then he waited the approximate time it would take her to climb up into the barn. Finally, he counted slowly to two hundred. All the waiting was cutting into the twenty minute time frame he'd given himself, but he would rather do that then risk Kyra still being within range of his magic.
When he finished his count, Morgan closed his eyes and called up his power. He had expected a delay, given the distance between himself and Kyon, but there was none. His magic responded immediately, and all around him lights blazed to life.
The lights came from the humans sleeping throughout the bunker. They came from the horses, rats, and cats living up in the barn, and from every tree, bush, and blade of grass around it.
Thankfully, there was no light representing a lone human girl anywhere within his range.
Satisfied that Kyra was safe, Morgan let his magic do what it wanted and pulled.
In his mind's eye, the lights shone brighter. They lifted away from the lives they belonged to and formed a swirling vortex of light, all spiraling toward him. Just before they hit, Morgan, with effort, broke the connection between himself and the living beings tethered to him. The lights, the life, he had already taken still came to him, but he would take no more.
The lights reached him. They flowed into him like a torrent, filling him with power. It was a power he could shape and use however he wished, this life. It was heedy. Collecting it left him wanting more, always more. Nick had tried to get him to discover just how much he could take before he was “full,” but after the first test, Morgan had walked away too afraid of the depth of his magic to ever try again. All he knew for certain about his magic was that if he didn't stop collecting before the life reached him, it became very, very hard to stop at all without killing everything alive within his reach.
Morgan took a minute to let the power settle. Then he turned on his heel and kicked the lord’s doors open.
They flew off their hinges as if stuck by a meteorite. Someone screamed as they crashed into the walls and floor, bouncing and breaking into more pieces as they went.
Morgan gave a low whistle as he stepped through the doorway. “Sorry about that. Always takes a bit to remember my own strength after a surge.”
He peered around the room. It was quite large, though still only half as big as the main room. It was split, with a living room set up on one side and a dining area on the other. Another door stood closed on the right, likely leading to a bedroom. The doors he’d broken open were strewn across the room. One had landed on the coffee table and broken it, too. That, Morgan assumed, was the reason the lovely woman on the settee had screamed.
She was stunning. Luscious dark hair falling around her shoulders. Flawless golden skin that almost glowed in the low light of the room. Curves for days, barely disguised by the sleeveless red dress she wore. Her eyes were wide and dark as she gaped at him. She was pressed back against the couch, legs curled up to avoid splintering wood. But despite her apparent fear, Morgan knew it was only shock that had her in such a state. A being as powerful as her would otherwise have no other reason to be afraid.
Morgan grinned at her. “Where’s the lord?”
She blinked rapidly, her shock fading little by little with each flutter of her lashes. She didn’t answer, and instead asked her own question. “Who the hell are you?”
Morgan adopted a pout. “I asked you first.”
The woman sucked in a breath through her teeth. With that sound, Morgan knew her shock was completely gone. A simmering fury had replaced it. She stood, a blast of energy throwing all broken wood out of the way of her bare feet. Morgan casually dodged a piece that flew toward his head.
“The lord is dead,” she hissed. “And you will be next, you impertinent fool.”
She raised one hand, and another shock wave flew across the room toward him. The energy itself was bad enough, but it also picked up everything in its path and threw that at him as well.
Morgan braced his feet and tossed his own power back at her.
Not literally, of course. Hitting girls was always a last resort. Rather, he just threw up a shield that deflected everything coming at him.
For a moment, the woman was left stunned speechless again. She recovered more quickly this time, her glossy lips curling into a sneer. “You’re a Magician. Of course. I should have known Merlin wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.” She tsked and sat back down, crossing one leg over the opposite knee, casually exposing ninety-nine percent of her leg in the process. “Well, you’re out of luck. There’s no phoenix feather here. We were lied to.”
Morgan held still and silent for a long second. “Actually, I’m a Dragon Rider, and I’m here to recruit the lord and his army for the Rebels. You’re in my way, so you either need to vacate the premises pronto, or I’m going to have to drag you out kicking and screaming.”
Once more, the woman - now confirmed as a Magician - was left stunned. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but it took several tries before words came out. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Morgan wiggled his fingers at her. “Shoo.”
She surged to her feet again. “How dare you? Do you have any idea who I am?!”
“Not at all. Frankly, I don’t care.” Morgan sighed and took a step toward her. “Look, I know Mages and Riders are supposed to hate each other, but can we maybe act outside the norm? I mean, why is that the norm, anyway? Why can’t we all be friends?”
She stared incredulously at him, then laughed derisively. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nnnnno?”
She rolled her eyes. “What is your name, boy?”
“Morgan Reilly.”
She sliced her hand through the air. “Your Rider name, fool.”
“Oh.” Morgan grinned. “Dawnbreaker.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I have never heard that name.”
Morgan shrugged. “Yeah, I’m kinda new. Only finished my training five years ago.”
She sighed. “Then you’re hardly worth my time.” Then her eyes flashed. “However, you have gravely insulted me, multiple times, so I will kill you and siphon you anyway.” Her teeth flashed. “After all, something is better than nothing.”
Before Morgan could question what “something” she was after, she moved - impossibly quickly. One second she was across the room, the next she was right in front of him. She slammed her hands into his chest, and he flew backward into the wall. He landed on his feet, barely, and then she was there again, one hand at his throat. She shoved him harder into the wall, pinning him with a strength far beyond her appearance. A thin dagger appeared in her other hand.
“Any last words?” she cooed at him.
Morgan was still trying to catch his breath after the body slam into the wall, and her hand on his neck wasn’t helping. Still, he managed a feeble, “Abso…lutely. Look… up.”
Her brow furrowed, but of course, she looked. She jolted back half a pace in surprise, her grip loosening. She turned her gaze back to Morgan. “Touche. But what makes you think a jagged piece of wood will kill me?”
Morgan, able to breathe a little easier through her loosened grip, smiled. “Oh, I know it won’t kill you. I just needed to distract you.”
Before he’d completely finished the last word, he brought his fist up in a sharp kidney punch. The woman doubled over. Morgan slid out of her suddenly lax grip, grabbed a handful of her hair, and shoved her face-first into the wall. Then he put one hand between her shoulder blades and started pulling the life from her.
The Mage screamed. She knew exactly what he was doing. It was, after all, something very similar to what she and her kind did. Only instead of life, they drained a creature's years. “No, stop! Stop!”
With effort, Morgan slowed the pull. “Give me one good reason.”
“I’ll leave! I’ll leave, I swear! No more fighting!”
Morgan shook his head. “Not good enough anymore. Where’s the lord?”
Instead of answering, she tried to fight him. Assuming the talking had distracted him, she reached for her magic and threw it at him.
Only, nothing happened.
Morgan saw her face go pale. “What did you do to me?” she whispered hoarsely.
Morgan clenched his jaw. “I sealed off your magic the second you touched me. I left you just enough to keep the super strength, but…” He pressed down on her before she had a chance to test that fact. “I have super strength now, too, and I can boost mine as much as I need to. You can’t.”
The one eye he could see was very wide now, and her breathing had gone shallow. “What do you want?” she croaked.
“Where. Is. The. Lord?”
Her eyes slammed shut. “He’s in the bedroom. He’s… When I left, he was nearly dead. He probably is now.”
Morgan growled and shoved her harder into the wall. She whimpered. “You better hope he’s not.” Then he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the bedroom.
She tried to resist, even lunged for the dagger she’d dropped when he punched her. She almost made it too, seeing as she was willing to sacrifice a fistful of hair to get away from him. At the last second, Morgan switched his hold to her arm, and used his magic to throw the dagger across the room. It embedded itself in the wall.
The Mage shrieked her rage and frustration and struggled harder against his hold. Morgan tightened his grip and started pulling again. Instantly, she went still. “No!”
Morgan yanked her closer so they were nose to nose. “Stop fighting me, then.”
She nodded frantically.
“Thank you.” He leaned back. “And for the record, unlike you guys, I don’t need to be touching you to pull from you, so just bear that in mind if I decide to let go.” Her eyes widened, but he turned away. Still keeping a hold of her arm for now, he continued toward the bedroom, the woman following along with reluctant steps.
Morgan shoved the bedroom door open. It was about half the size of the sitting/dining room, though it currently looked bigger because all the furniture had been overturned and shoved against the walls. Save one high-backed dining chair set in the center of the room.
Tied to it, bleeding and lifeless, was Lord Alfrick.
Morgan cursed. He released the Mage and moved to the lord. The poor man had been tortured, likely for hours. His face looked like hamburger meat, several fingers looked to be broken and lacking fingernails. There were cuts all across his scalp, visible through dark, close-cropped hair. He was fully clothed, but the wounds all over his torso and legs were still obvious. There was a pool of blood at his feet.
Morgan swore viciously again. He gently took the lord’s wrist and felt for a pulse, then looked again at his jugular. Nothing, nothing, and then… there. A fluttering heartbeat.
“Thank the gods,” Morgan muttered. Then, without waiting another second, he summoned his magic and sent it into the lord, bathing him in pure healing power.
By the time his magic stopped flowing, Morgan was exhausted. Healing magic always took something from those who used it, especially when treating someone as close to death as the lord had been. Now, he was perfectly healed. Still covered in blood, of course, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
As he slowly came to, Morgan turned to the Mage. She was, of course, gone. He sighed. “Great,” he muttered.
“What happened?” the lord mumbled.
Morgan spun back to him. “Lord Alfrick? My name is Morgan. I’m a Dragon Rider. The woman who did this to you, the Mage? She’s gone now. You’re safe.”
Lord Alfrick blinked. “If she’s gone, why am I still tied up?”
“Oh! Right. Sorry. I’ll just…” Morgan sought the ties that held the lord fast, but gave up after only a few seconds and simply summoned the Mage’s abandoned dagger from the other room. Then he quickly cut through the bonds and tossed them aside. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Groggy.” Alfrick frowned. “Disgusting. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go wash up. Then we can talk…” He eyed Morgan up and down. “Rider?” He sounded unconvinced.
Morgan smiled wryly. “Not all Riders strut around in dragonscale armour all the time. That’s a battle outfit, and I wasn’t expecting one when I came here.”
“I… see.” Lord Alfrick was still frowning, but after a moment he shook his head and stood slowly. Morgan stood by ready to help, but he managed it, and the walk to the bathing chamber, on his own.
As soon as the door shut between them, Morgan spun around and darted out of the bedroom, and then out of the lord’s private chambers and into the main bunker. The good news: everyone who had been spelled into sleep was awake or slowly getting there. The bad news: there was no sign of the Mage.
“Bloody hell.” Morgan ran across the room, ignoring the stares he got from the confused and groggy people around him. He darted through the guard room, scrambled up the ladder, and bolted out of the barn. He had to find that Mage.
Before she found Kyra.
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