Draconic Restoration Part II
The three Hawks gathered near their parents
grave and Icehawk uncovered a small stone in the ground. They fored a triangle,
hands outstretched to eachother palm-out. They began to chant a chant long
dead to the world, a chant in a launguage long forgotten yet wholely unique.
It was a chant of the Draconian Hawks. A pulse in the chant began to not
only be felt in the words, but in the ground, a solid beat. The feeling
grew stronger. A flicker of flame blinked in Firehawk's palm. A touch of
snow began to spin around Icehawk's wrists. A crackle of electricity coursed
through Thunderhawk's arms. The three chanted louder, the spell woven tight
for so long began to unravel. As the ritual of restoration progressed,
another voice could be heard, one so deep and unique. It spoke of the Earth
and their father. Their hearts reached out for his long past. But the voice
grew stronger than they had heard it before and Icehawk's eyes fluttered
open at how the spell felt changed! It wasn't working! What was happening!
Suddenly he felt a spasm in his back, then a tearing sensation. His hand
remained outstretched as he experieced pain that which he did not expect
among this ritual! Wings shot out of his back, large and draconic, and
a tail spring out! Icehawk forced his eyes open and saw Firehawk experiecing
his pain, agony in his eyes. But another thing was happeneing, Thunderhawk
was also changing. Icehawk didn't forsee this! But as fast as the transformation
has started, it was over. Icehawk wholy expected to be completely changed
back to his orignal, draconic self. But the eyes of his eldest brother
told him not. The three heard a voice, the same as they had heard before.
"You took these forms to live safely, but you cannot return wholely to
yourselves. I am sorry my children, but was has been done can not be wholy
undone at your will. I-- I miss you my sons, and I wish you your desires,
but you must take what you have. Be happy my sons. I love you." At these
words, the three hawks collapsed. Hours later, as they awoke, they began
to see what had taken place. The spell had been initiated, but was not
able to be finished. The result was, as they discovered, was that Icehawk
and Thunderhawk had gained a futional set of wings and tails. Strangely,
they retained their human likenesses and upon closer experimentation found
that by some feat of magic, the wings could retract to a much smaller size
than was able to Firehawk. "Well brothers," Firehawk adressed his siblings,
"What do we consider this?" Icehawk thought it over a moment and slowly
replied. "I find that it was not really a failure. We have our wings and
to what I can gather," ICehawk demonstrated snapping a large board as if
it were nothing, "We have our strength. We simply have the cosmetic appearance
of humans. This might have been a better alternative I didn't consider.
Thunderhawk, I know you did not wish this, what is your take on the matter?"
"My take? I came here to help you and in return I've got my stregth and
my wings. I'm friggin happy and I say we not nix this and leave here."
The three agreed wholy. Icehawk reached into his bag and brought out a
gem-studded magical device. After hitting a few buttons, a medium-sized
airship appeared right above them. Thunderhawk grumbled about how he had
to walk when they could have flown here in that. Icehawk smiled benevolently
and boarded his ship with his brothers as they took off into the sunset...
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Draconic Restoration Part I
It was cold, and Thunderhawk was bitching.
But Icehawk could care less about the cold and cared even smaller for his
brother's whining. They had traveled for days to reach this area and no
amount of complaining would stop Icehawk from what he wanted-- his wings.
To his brothers he had briefly explained his desire but not to both at
the same time. Neither Firehawk nor Thunderhawk new the other was coming.
But all three brothers were neccessary for the ritual, and Icehawk would
have no arguement. They arrived at a clearing in the woods where two stones
were standing in the ground. A large scorch mark and the ruins of a burnt
building dominated the clearing. In the middle of it all stood Firehawk,
staring down at the graves, his large wings seemed to droop as his scaly
form wept at the memories of long past. Icehawk suddenly realized Thunderhawk
had sneaked off without his knowledge. "Greetings, brother!" Icehawk called
out. "Greetings to you too, Ice. Let us do our business and leave. I-"
Firehawk choked a moment on his words then regained his composure. "I...
I wish to not have to revisit this past too often." Icehawk nodded at this
and continued toward the graves. "One thing, brother? How are we to do
this?" Firehawk asked. "Simple. We reverse what we put in place." Icehawk
answered. "Doesn't that take... well..." Firehawk's eyes narrowed at the
thought and he suddenly was very aware at the silence of the creatures
in the area. A dark shape shot out of the woods, glinting steel, straight
at Firehawk. The large draconian dodged the strike and knocked his youngest
sibling to the ground and put his foot on him. "I knew it! It has to involve
him!" Firehawk glared down at Thuderhawk. "Yeah and what if it does!? He's
still our brother!" Icehawk spat back. "And when were you planning to tell
me he was coming?" Thunder growled up at Icehawk. "You had this all planned
didn't you!" Icehawk merely nodded. "Well we're here, and we know what
must be done." Firehawk looked at his two long-human brothers. "I tell
you I will be hapy to be a family again." Icehawk looked back. "You have
no idea..."
Labels:
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back to basics
"Some honeymoon this is turning out to be,"
Menhara murmured as she pulled the hood of her cloak around her face. Fear
shone in her eyes, though she fought to hide it, and she stepped out of
the Yawning Portal with quick, purposeful steps. Behind her, she knew Taryn
tended to Quaster's wound, and she felt a small tinge of guilt at her lack
of concern for the man; her confidence in the healer's ability was strong,
though, so it was merely a passing thought. She moved through the streets
quickly, lost deep in thought. She cursed her ex-husband under her breath
for keeping her out of the room while Berion and Taryn tended Basalt; it
was a foolish thought, but she felt there might have been something she
could have done. Now there was something - a demon, she wondered, or merely
an angry spirit? - loose that took Basalt's body and used it to wield enormous
power. She had poured a good deal of her own power into the shield, and
it had only served to delay him. Finally, she reached her destination,
and she stepped into the library with a silent nod to the guard. As she
pulled her hood back, her fingers brushed the bump on her head where she
had been hit. "I'm too old for this," she muttered to herself, the phrase
having come much more frequently since her birthday. She could not, however,
ignore the danger posed to her friends. She needed to study. She needed
to find some way to tap into even greater powers. The library, its shelves
of books far taller than she, was as familiar to the woman as her Church.
Before the birth of the twins she had spent hours on end here, studying
all she could, and if she had one regret about her life it was that she
no longer studied. It showed in her magic as well; just as her fighting
had become poor after arriving in Westbridge, her hold on her power was
slipping with disuse. Lights for her children, her own flight, the occasional
musical creation - all were simple tricks to her, nothing more. As she
surveyed the shelves of books, however, it was these that she realized
she must focus on. Years before, Trista had begun her instruction in magic
by speaking on each wizard's core, their focus. She had drawn upon it in
her attempt to detain Basalt. Floating from the ground without a thought,
she scanned the books until finding a tome she'd passed by years before.
Taking it into her hands, she nodded and returned to the ground. She would
claim no mastery, but if there was one area of magic she felt she had the
firmest grasp of, it was the elements. Air for her flight, water to keep
her dry in the rain, fire to keep her children warm, light for so many
reasonsand earth she had been dappling in with her music, though she knew
this was easily her weak link. The book carefully held in her arms, she
moved to a table and sat. Lighting the candle with a brush of her fingertip,
she opened the tome and began to read.
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