Damiynn
Fantasy Author
I just need a quick look over this to see if I have missed anything. I am pretty sure that I have it complete but would appreciate any extra eyes on it.
Chapter 1
‘In service to all.’
Micah stared hard at the redstone medallion, the Dragon’s Eye. He had seen the golden words flashing across its face. Delving into his past, he tried remembering the forgotten stories his father had told him. He couldn’t remember anything about glowing words, but he did remember what the words meant. They were supposed to be a summoning.
Twenty five years ago in their shoddy little trailer, his father had told him that they were men of the blood. That he was a Man of the Blood. That he was supposed to serve as the protector of a land called Illanor on a different world called Allryss and that possibly someday he could be called to fulfill that duty. According to his father, none had in several generations.
Micah remembered his father’s fanciful stories about the Dragonworld. He also remembered searching a world atlas from top to bottom and never finding any place called Illanor.
Hard lines cut grooves into his forehead as he stared at the dark redstone. He had laughed then, now, twenty five years later, he wasn’t laughing.
At eighteen, he had sworn to wear the medallion. He had done so while his father had been incarcerated, but had stopped
after his death. He didn’t even remember the last time he had seen the silly thing.
I know I saw them. The words had been there.
Turning, he raked fingers through his hair, looking at the cardboard box. Bitter laughter parted his lips. His ex, Mariynn, must have put it there. She hadn’t believed father’s stories either.
The box had been warm, he had felt the heat through its sides. Afraid of fire and knowing with what was left of his police severance he couldn’t afford another efficiency, he had opened it.
The Dragon’s eye had been the only thing filling the box. The golden chain had been coiled around the red stone like a snake coiled about its clutch. The last time he had seen it had been shortly after his father’s death but then the eye hadn’t been glowing. Not thinking, he had reached into the box.
The words, In service to all, had filled his head, coming from everywhere, sounding as if a hundred different voices were speaking to him all at once. The summoning, he thought again thinking of what his father had told him.
Visions of gnashing white teeth and red armored scales had followed the words. Armor had encased his body and he had seen a massive battle being fought all around him. He had been flying high in the sky over troops crashing together in ripples of steel on the ground below. He had heard wild war cries and had seen flashing weapons. Wind had filled his ears and he had felt a sword’s hilt filling his hand and in the distance he had heard the roar of a giant beast.
Then it was gone, the vision shattering in his mind, like splintering glass from a broken mirror. He had felt the pieces cutting into him and pain had blinded him. When he finally opened his eyes, all was the same. But for a brief moment while his head had been spinning, it seemed as if he had done all of it before as if he should be remembering everything he had seen.
Shuddering, he snatched up a pencil, and looped it through the medallion’s chain and placed it on the table. It wasn’t glowing now. It looked perfectly ordinary.
Head aching, he glanced out his small ice covered window and saw snow on the skyscrapers in the distance.
I’m still in Chicago. This is ridiculous, I must have imagined it? The case, the divorce, losing my badge, lack of sleep, alcohol, I’m hallucinating. Thinking back to his father, he tried dredging up more memories.
Still nothing that mentioned glowing. He did remember several stories about duty to one’s people and how he was supposed to be to be there to protect them if called. According to his father, every time the medallion had been passed onto the next wearer, the one before had answered the call and had died, as the story went, ‘In service to all’.
Tentatively, Micah reached out, flicking the gold chain with a fingernail. Nothing. Heart pounding in his chest, he flicked the stone, and jerked his hand back as if stung. Nothing. It felt the same as it always had.
The adrenaline pumping through his veins left behind a cold tingle but the stone still did nothing. There was no pulse, no warmth, no flickering golden letters and no sense of flying, nothing that said there had been a summoning attached to it. The amulet just lay there, looking like it always had every day that he had worn it before stuffing it in that box. The only difference now was his heart. It was pounding in his chest, like a freight train racing across uneven tracks.
Feeling silly, Micah took several deep breaths, in through the nose out through the mouth, using the breathing techniques he had learned when he had been younger that had always served to calm his mind in the military and later in the police force. Slowly his pulse resumed a normal beat. Reaching out, he traced the top of the cold stone with his fingernail. Nothing, he thought disgustedly. Taking a chance, he rested his palm on the eye. It didn’t glow.
Understanding of what must have happened crept into his mind. I must have dozed off. Palm still on the eye, he shook his head and rolled his eyes disgustedly. He didn’t remember falling asleep though his mind had seemed murky for a few moments.
In his head, he saw the spidery words of gold form again, just like they had earlier been on the stone. Not thinking, he mumbled the phrase that he had learned from his father who had learned it from his, “In service to all.”
Chapter 1
‘In service to all.’
Micah stared hard at the redstone medallion, the Dragon’s Eye. He had seen the golden words flashing across its face. Delving into his past, he tried remembering the forgotten stories his father had told him. He couldn’t remember anything about glowing words, but he did remember what the words meant. They were supposed to be a summoning.
Twenty five years ago in their shoddy little trailer, his father had told him that they were men of the blood. That he was a Man of the Blood. That he was supposed to serve as the protector of a land called Illanor on a different world called Allryss and that possibly someday he could be called to fulfill that duty. According to his father, none had in several generations.
Micah remembered his father’s fanciful stories about the Dragonworld. He also remembered searching a world atlas from top to bottom and never finding any place called Illanor.
Hard lines cut grooves into his forehead as he stared at the dark redstone. He had laughed then, now, twenty five years later, he wasn’t laughing.
At eighteen, he had sworn to wear the medallion. He had done so while his father had been incarcerated, but had stopped
after his death. He didn’t even remember the last time he had seen the silly thing.
I know I saw them. The words had been there.
Turning, he raked fingers through his hair, looking at the cardboard box. Bitter laughter parted his lips. His ex, Mariynn, must have put it there. She hadn’t believed father’s stories either.
The box had been warm, he had felt the heat through its sides. Afraid of fire and knowing with what was left of his police severance he couldn’t afford another efficiency, he had opened it.
The Dragon’s eye had been the only thing filling the box. The golden chain had been coiled around the red stone like a snake coiled about its clutch. The last time he had seen it had been shortly after his father’s death but then the eye hadn’t been glowing. Not thinking, he had reached into the box.
The words, In service to all, had filled his head, coming from everywhere, sounding as if a hundred different voices were speaking to him all at once. The summoning, he thought again thinking of what his father had told him.
Visions of gnashing white teeth and red armored scales had followed the words. Armor had encased his body and he had seen a massive battle being fought all around him. He had been flying high in the sky over troops crashing together in ripples of steel on the ground below. He had heard wild war cries and had seen flashing weapons. Wind had filled his ears and he had felt a sword’s hilt filling his hand and in the distance he had heard the roar of a giant beast.
Then it was gone, the vision shattering in his mind, like splintering glass from a broken mirror. He had felt the pieces cutting into him and pain had blinded him. When he finally opened his eyes, all was the same. But for a brief moment while his head had been spinning, it seemed as if he had done all of it before as if he should be remembering everything he had seen.
Shuddering, he snatched up a pencil, and looped it through the medallion’s chain and placed it on the table. It wasn’t glowing now. It looked perfectly ordinary.
Head aching, he glanced out his small ice covered window and saw snow on the skyscrapers in the distance.
I’m still in Chicago. This is ridiculous, I must have imagined it? The case, the divorce, losing my badge, lack of sleep, alcohol, I’m hallucinating. Thinking back to his father, he tried dredging up more memories.
Still nothing that mentioned glowing. He did remember several stories about duty to one’s people and how he was supposed to be to be there to protect them if called. According to his father, every time the medallion had been passed onto the next wearer, the one before had answered the call and had died, as the story went, ‘In service to all’.
Tentatively, Micah reached out, flicking the gold chain with a fingernail. Nothing. Heart pounding in his chest, he flicked the stone, and jerked his hand back as if stung. Nothing. It felt the same as it always had.
The adrenaline pumping through his veins left behind a cold tingle but the stone still did nothing. There was no pulse, no warmth, no flickering golden letters and no sense of flying, nothing that said there had been a summoning attached to it. The amulet just lay there, looking like it always had every day that he had worn it before stuffing it in that box. The only difference now was his heart. It was pounding in his chest, like a freight train racing across uneven tracks.
Feeling silly, Micah took several deep breaths, in through the nose out through the mouth, using the breathing techniques he had learned when he had been younger that had always served to calm his mind in the military and later in the police force. Slowly his pulse resumed a normal beat. Reaching out, he traced the top of the cold stone with his fingernail. Nothing, he thought disgustedly. Taking a chance, he rested his palm on the eye. It didn’t glow.
Understanding of what must have happened crept into his mind. I must have dozed off. Palm still on the eye, he shook his head and rolled his eyes disgustedly. He didn’t remember falling asleep though his mind had seemed murky for a few moments.
In his head, he saw the spidery words of gold form again, just like they had earlier been on the stone. Not thinking, he mumbled the phrase that he had learned from his father who had learned it from his, “In service to all.”
