Black pinions rippled faintly in the breeze across the square and along the city walls. Aegan had been helped into a chair beside the royal family on a large dais that had been erected in the town square of Camela, the capital city of Aestria. Behind them lay the Temple of the 12 Gods, its rooftop glistening and golden the only bright spark in a city buried in grief. At its entrance stood a statue dedicated to Aelia the Goddess of the Sun, its arms spread wide in benediction as if to hold close the huddled mass of heartbroken people, a gentle smile adorning its face.
Before them thousands of people stood, wearing their finest black clothes that here and there were muddied or torn, denoting people who whilst not wealthy still came to pay respects for the many men and women who gave their lives. Broken families were a common sight as many single parents held their children close, soothing the ones old enough to understand the gravity of what had happened, and cuddling those that didn't although whether it was to give or seek comfort none could tell.
Despite the need for haste, it took another week to prepare for the summoning ritual. First a speech in the plaza, telling of the grand victory their Champions had won against the Demon race, ending half of the remaining Demon Lords and recanting how tragically many of the great heroes had lost their lives in the attempt. It was considered "lucky" that although many in the royal army lost their lives it was only the advance party equaling roughly 30% of the country's strength.
Many would consider that to be a bargain as compared to the losses the Demons sustained but as Allaan gazed out at the weeping men, women and children in the streets knowing their husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters and siblings would not be coming home he could not let the word "lucky" pass his lips.
Instead, he extoled the bravery and sacrifice they made along with the Champions that had protected the people for the last several decades. Aegans magic subtly enhanced Allaans voice allowing him to speak in gentle, comforting tones, not needing to scream to reach those crammed at the back of the huddled mass, with tippy toes and squinted eyes just to glimpse the dais from afar.
Each widow or widower was guaranteed freedom from taxes for the rest of their days and any orphans would be taken in and given schooling and healthcare at the cost of the kingdom. Many began to weep harder, knowing that while nothing could return their loved ones, their lives were being treated with respect and their families may find a way to pick up the pieces.
The suffocating air of sadness began to ease giving the king and Aegan seated behind him a sigh of relief. With the easier part out of the way it came time to broach the next issue…
"With that in mind, we have reached out to nearby kingdoms and agreed it is necessary to Summon a new generation of Champions…" This grand proclamation, which should have brought joy and hope to the people, instead made them freeze. An icy silence followed…
The roar that followed was not one of hope or happiness, but shock edged with fear…
...................
In the dungeons below Camela a young reptilian girl raised her head to gaze at the sliver of sunlight beaming through the barred windows leading to the plaza. She could hear the roars and cries drifting down to their cell. Her eyes were a blood red, the glittering green scales that covered her body, now a dull muddy brown to the point it was hard to tell where the muck and filth ended, and she began. Her spine had fixed pointed spikes leading down the length of her body into a tail roughly half a metre in length.
Scattered around her were the rest of her tribe, huddled together in groups to conserve warmth. The "room" if anything so filthy could be described as such, was a 6x4 metre square cell, the roof top high enough none could reach and the bars of a thick rusted iron. If one looked closely in the dark they could see rank piles of straw poking out beneath the bodies, filthy from the combination of dirt, sweat and other bodily fluids. As she slowly shuffled closer to the bars a few of her kin raised their heads just enough to glance in her direction before lying back where they were.
They had given up hope.
Imprisoned for the last several years, the dragonkin which had once been a mighty race, had now become little better than lizards hiding in the dark. She wasn't old enough to know whether the charges against them were true or false, all she felt was an abiding hatred for those who dwelt in the light whilst keeping them locked in this sweaty, filthy pit for years on end.
The only light they saw was the single ray that glared through the barred window when the angle of the sun was just right and the sullen orange torch of the guard that brought them the slop and half eaten bread every morn and night.
She pulled her body up slowly against the bars, eyes squinting against even that miniscule amount of light, and tried to listen as closely as she could.
"…nearby kingdoms and agreed it is necessary to Summon a new generation of Champions…"
She gasped. New Champions? So all the old ones were dead or dying? A warm sense of satisfaction filled her as she thought of the old BASTARD that had had them thrown in here in the first place. Even though she was only 6 years old when it happened and couldn't remember why they had been thrown unceremoniously in jail, she still remembered his face like yesterday. She hoped it hurt.
CLANG
A loud banging down the length of the hallway announced the arrival of the guard. Strange, he shouldn't be here again until close to nightfall.
His boots scraping the gravel echoed along the hallway past their cells and off into the darkness. The girl hastily dropped down from the bars and huddled off into a corner to be as unnoticeable as possible.
It was only after a moment she realized that two sounds of boots were trudging down the corridor towards them. She quivered in fear and attempted to force herself into the nearest pile of slowly breathing bodies in the hopes of hiding even further. She could not imagine what a visitor could mean in this place after so many years but sickly thoughts crossed her mind about what "fun" could be had at the expense of herself and her people now that they had no fight left in them.
She shivered at every crunch and every footstep as they drew ever closer finally stopping in front of their cell, that hateful sickly orange illuminating the bodies sprawled around the place. Many of the kin did not even raise their heads to acknowledge the visitors, barely opening a squinted eye before closing it and accepting the inevitable.
"Please stand up" Said one of the men. Through a gap in the sprawled bodies the girl could see he was a bearded old man with a heavy staff he leaned on, clad in white with a bald head. His voice was thick but gentle and he gave off a kinder aura than the guard who, when none responded to the old mans' words screamed.
"UP!" He and banged on the cell doors with a heavy steel baton he carried everywhere. Even then the creatures languidly stretched before slowly standing up where they were.
"Against the cell!" He yelled again, banging to emphasize his point.
Like a group of sloths the remaining dragonkin slowly ambled over and lined up against the cell, their eyes narrowed to slits against the harsh torch light. The young girl placed herself at the farthest end from the men, hoping not to draw their attention. Even glancing at the dead disinterested eyes of her kin broke her heart and she saw how little life left there was in each of them.
The older man frowned at the guard seeing his rough methods. His frown quickly turned to shock as he examined each creature and noted how sickly and malnourished, they appeared. As he made his way down the line, he noted one at the end that wouldn't meet his eye. The others appeared lost, little more than sheep, barely a spark of existence to say the still lived at all. But as he finally caught the pure red eyes of the creature, he saw not only life but fear, anger and defiance. This is the one, he thought.
"Tell me girl"
"My name is Raelle!" She spat back him venomously.
"Tell me Raelle" The old man continued as if nothing happened. "What would you give if I were to set your people free?"
The look she gave her kin before looking back at him told him all he needed. Bless the poor girl. It almost broke his heart.