Semua Bab My little Dragon Queen: Bab 101 - Bab 110

There is little time for pleasantries, in light of the note.Brandon does not know what could have possessed Lincoln to send such a note, nor are there any details to be gleaned from its contents: a precautionary measure, given how often such notes are wont to be intercepted in travel.Still, he knows that there is very little - almost nothing at all - that the Commander is not entirely equipped to handle on his own, short of the very war coming to their doorsteps, such that he would be forced to call for Brandon's return.Let alone demand him to bring Lord Alfred, as Lincoln had so alluded.It makes Brandon slip seamlessly into the shadows, for even the scant extra moments it would take to travel by foot is a luxury they do not seem to have.* * * * * * * * * *In the end, it is a lean retinue of the Lords and two soldiers from the Heartlands, that are to make their departure for the Western Plains.Given that the Western Plains are directly en route to the Ranges, Percy and Darla wi

A deathly silence descends on the group, with a violent force; not unlike the swooping blade of a guillotine.It is Percy, who seems to regain his composure, first."What do you mean?" his voice is quiet and soft; dangerously so.Alfred rubs tiredly at his forehead with one hand, expression abruptly dripping with exhaustion."Of course, as these are Stella Lockwood's thoughts," Alfred murmurs, slipping unconsciously into the use of the girl's name, as he'd gleaned from her mind.It is difficult, to maintain a detached sense of unfamiliarity, after one has invaded every grueling inch of another's mind."There remains the possibility that it is not the truth of reality, but merely what she has been led to believe." But Alfred sounds as though he doubts his own words, as he speaks them."But as it is..." Alfred takes a shuddering breath, as though buckling under the physical weight of the knowledge. Nordin presses closer. "Cedrick would maintain a kingdom-wide decree, that any child born

Alfred's intel leads them to a desert in the middle of nowhere.Given the Southern Terraces' general landscape, such a landscape should not have existed at all, amid the lush greenery that typically sprawls throughout the land. But here, as far as the eye can see, not a single shred of life grows, the ground dry and cracked with dust and nothing more.The dragons land with twin thumps, and their passengers' eyes are already roving over the emptiness.That is the only word that could be used to describe the sight: empty.Devoid of anything; including, above all else, life.Only after stepping unsteadily onto the ground, does Alcina finally manage to catch the faint outlines of buildings. They are all in shambles, torn down to the brick foundations, as though a massive force had run through them, hard enough to shock the very ground."Lord Cedric's Gift," Alfred murmurs faintly, as though thinking aloud, as his eyes run over the destruction.Alcina's brows furrow as she takes it all in,

While all palaces have some manner of architectural aspects in common - that of ornate finery and opulence - each kingdom's castle has been known to bear its own unique markers to distinguish it from the others.The Heartlands, for instance, had been crafted in the singular image of grace and grandeur. Pristine white brickwork, interspersed with gorgeous stained glass artwork commissioned from only the most talented artists throughout the land; surrounded with blooming, vivid roses - the crown jewel of Duchess Clair's pride - and gleaming stone fountains.The palace stands as a point of pride for the most proud of noble houses, as a symbol of all that wealth and prosperity experienced by the kingdom.The Western Plains' palace, in contrast, is far more utilitarian. Built to be grand, yes, but specifically in a manner that belies its military strength; with far fewer frills than the Heartlands' palace, replaced instead with hulking towers and heavy walls to withstand even the harshest

“So you all will stand there, and pretend to be morally superior to Duke Albrecht, and yet all you seek is to use my Gift for yourselves-”Lincoln rolls his eyes with a loud sigh.It is so abrasive and strangely casual, that Stella falls silent, staring in bewilderment at the commander, who now has his hands planted on his hips. “You are just a sulky little thing, aren’t you?” Lincoln accuses, and Stella’s jaw drops.A vaguely strangled noise tears its way out of her throat, along with indignation.“I never said you would be forced to join the ranks,” Lincoln clucks his tongue. “I simply said it was an option, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”“You can be Lady Alcina’s maidservant, for all I care,” Lincoln rolls his eyes at her again, and Stella makes an indignant sound in her throat.He steps forward to reach for the shackles on Stella’s left wrist, first and releases it. Stella brings her wrist cradled to her chest, glaring balefully at Lincoln.Lincoln gives her an entirely