Balasar's Bloodline - Endangered

Balasar's Bloodline: Endangered - Chapter 1: What War Can Bring

Clashes of steel against steel ring through the air of the large, open battlefield, screams and shouts of pain and rage mixed in, commands shouted over the cacophony of noise produced during the battle that rages on. On one end of the battlefield and next to the large stone walls that protect the keep inside, rests a large tent, though the inhabitants are doing anything but resting inside.

"Commander! What the hell is going on in the lower section of the city!?" a large, tall dragon-kin standing among many others in the large tent protecting them from the elements and some of the noise calls out to another Dragon-kin standing in a nearby group of his allies, "Has there been any word regarding the defenses!?"

The Dragon-kin commander, shaking his head and giving a concerned glance towards the door, gives a bow to the taller dragon-kin, and then rises before speaking, "No, Lord Balasar! We've heard nothing from anyone besides the rear guard, and they are preparing to advance to discover the fate of the vanguard and main force!"

Casting a glare and a growl to his side, Lord Balasar steps back from the war table, lifting his hands from the wooden surface and crossing his arms. His metal and chainmail-clad gauntlets audibly clanking against each other as he crosses his arms, the enameled blue and silver embossed protective pieces catching eyes along with the rest of his similarly enameled armor. The embossments appear to also act as bases for gemstones, running along with the entire set in waves and swirls, clustered in large amounts on the shoulders, the elbow guards, the forearms, the knees, the shin guards, and the chest plate.

The inlays on the chest piece are shaped to form a reared back Gryphon with spread wings once the gems that are meant to be placed there are added to it, allowing him to shine brightly on the battlefield, as his parents do. This reasoning has seemed to baffle all but Balasar's mother and father, the armor they wear into battle similar in design to allow inlaid gemstones.

"Damn it all...this isn't good. Commander! Gather ten of your most trusted, elite men along with the twins, and come with me!" Balasar roars out to the commander, who nods his head and hurries off to fulfill his orders. The young lord then unfolds his arms and rests his hands on his primary weapon, the pommel of a similarly enameled hand and a half sword, and then turns away from the table to head for the entrance of the tent, his royal purple cape flowing behind him.

"We can not lose this war. Our very lives are all on the line, and father is already...no, I can not afford to dwell on those no longer with us, aside from pleasant memories," he shakes his silver scaled head and exits the tent, glancing up at the sky and noting that the sun is far enough to the other side of the skyline that he can catch a glimpse of one of the three moons on the horizon, "Good...they will need to retreat and regroup soon if everything went according to plan. We can-"

"T-the keep! It's been set ablaze, my Lord!" a call of alarm cuts Balasar off, making him widen his eyes in alarm before looking back at the walls, a column of smoke seen in the sky, "The enemy snuck in from the other side! The guards were killed!"

"Mother!" he says as he begins to hurry towards the walls, a pair of guards accompanying him as he runs, "No! They've already taken my father from me! Not mother, too!"

Reaching the gate and passing under the carved stone archway, Balasar pants and growls as he runs up the road that leads to the keep on the top of the hill above, his armor's weight slowing him down enough to frustrate him and cause him to growl louder as he forces his body to hasten even more so.

The front doors of the keep, which were to be closed and locked from the inside are now barred from the outside, screams and pleas for help heard from behind the door, "Pleeease! Anyone! We're trapped! Help us!"

The voice devolves into a coughing fit as part of the keep shifts from the flames inside of it, making Balasar grunt as he reaches the door, using his strength to steadily rip the planks keeping the door from opening outwards off of the frame, "Hold o-on! I'm getting the door blocks off! Just stay alive for a few m-more moments!"

'I have to get them out of there! And some of them may know where mother is!' Balasar thinks to himself, ripping and tearing the wood to pieces as he gets more desperate. A moment later, other scaled hands come into view, tearing into the wood as well, the soldiers who were requested having arrived, 'Reinforcements are here! We have a chance!'

"Don't you dare stop pulling those planks, soldiers!" the commander shouts to be heard over the sounds of fire and the building's creaking, "We have to get these people out, and make sure that the Queen is safe!"

"Thank you, Commander! I feared that I would not be able to handle this amount of obstruction alone!" Balasar calls out, the twins giving him winks before they resume their work, the door soon clear of the planks that held it shut, "Open the door, it's clear!"

The door practically flies open as well over a dozen Dragon-kin flee from the burning building, smoke trailing out behind them as cries of thanks and fear come from the group, a single one grabbing Balasar by the sleeves and staring him in the eye, the female familiar to the young lord.

"L-Lord Balasar! Your mother does battle with the saboteurs in the gardens! There are so many of them!" the maid says with no small amount of panic, giving him a quick hug before she lets go and begins to run back into the building, "Come with me, my Lord! I shall lead you to them, several paths have already collapsed!"

"Thank you, Midri! Let us hope we are not too late!" Balasar says, a loud screech of rage and anger heard a moment later, "Mother! She yet lives!"

"Then let us make even more haste, my Lord! We must save her Majesty!" Midri shouts with a determined glint in her eyes, the two hurrying along through the spacious hallway that is decorated and adorned with many different tapestries, paintings, busts, and statues, all of fairly high quality.

Turning a corner, the two come to a halt as they see that the ceiling of a hallway ahead has collapsed, "Damn it," she curses to herself, looking down the other hallway before starting to run down it, "This way, Lord Balasar! There is a passage we can take through here that should lead to the gardens!"

"Fantastic! I hear the others behind us, so let's continue!" the young lord calls in response, footsteps heard behind them, though there are more footsteps heard from ahead as well, "We have company! Midri, behind me!"

Midri says nothing in response, though she does move to Balasar's side, staying close to him, this seeming to be enough for the Dragon-kin nobility. Glancing around another corner reveals about half a dozen canine bipeds to the two, making Balasar curse to himself, the group seeming to not have noticed them yet.

"Alright, Midri," Balasar whispers to his long-time maid with a concerned tone, "We need to get past those six Wolvar soldiers without getting spo- What are you doing? Midri, no!"

Balasar watches in horror and bewilderment as Midri steps out from behind the corner and lifts her hands, a set of small, translucent gears appear over one of her eyes, the soldiers down the hall freezing to a halt. He then notices the gears that also adorn her hands, the Dragon-kin maid glancing back at him with a smile, completely ignoring the shock on his face at witnessing a feat like time manipulation magic.

"Well? Are you coming, my Lord? We don't have much time to waste," Midri says with a smirk, gesturing for him to follow behind her. She then reaches into her sleeve and draws a short dagger from it, Balasar raising a brow in a questioning glance as he turns the corner as well, "My ability only works while I am within a certain range of them, and they will begin moving once we are far enough past them. We must dispatch them, quickly."

Nodding his head in understanding, Balasar draws his longsword from its sheath, the silver-coated blade glinting softly in the light, and the enchanted, two-pronged golden guard depicting a pair of roaring dragons. Midri begins to get to work on killing the guards, driving her blade through the neck of one soldier before withdrawing it and slashing across the throat of another, Balasar swinging his sword with both hands to decapitate one, but the head remains where it is.

"There isn't even any blood," Balasar states with curiosity, running a soldier through with his sword before withdrawing it, "These are fatal wounds, why is there no blood?"

"Because time around us has been frozen," Midri says with a bittersweet smile, then draws another dagger from the waist of a Wolvar soldier and shoves a dagger in each of the remaining enemies, "This is taxing on my magical reserves, and we have no time for idle chatter while the Queen's battle rages on, my Lord."

His eyes narrow in determination, nodding his head and gesturing for her to lead the way, the black scaled maid leading him down a hallway and towards the garden. Balasar notices that the gears on her body and over her eye are disappearing, and he glances behind him to see the Wolvar soldiers are each falling to the stone floor with cries or gurgles of agony, with the sole exception of the one whose head was lopped off.

Blood pools and sprays around the room in various quantities, the sight reminding Balasar of some paintings from formal events that he has seen in the past that depict scenes of Fearath, the realm inside of Sinca where the evilest of souls go to be tortured for eternity inside of her deepest rage and hatred.

"You're quite formidable," Balasar says as he averts his eyes from the scene, the two turning a corner and running towards the entrance to the garden, the door to which is visible at the end of the hallway. Midri glances back at him, raising a brow and giving a playful smirk, though the smile doesn't reach her eyes, "Where did you learn such magic, Midri? Time magic is extraordinarily rare, and you are quite young to be something such as an Arch-Mage."

Midri chuckles and continues, a cross in the path ahead of them and her eyes returning ahead of them, "It was a natural talent that I slowly developed over time, my Lord. Someone accosted me, and the ability activated to stop him."

"Good! We can- Look out!" Balasar cuts himself off as he pushes Midri out of the way of a blade that was aimed at her throat, a Wolvar soldier growling in a challenge at the two, "You dare!?"

"Oh, I dare, lizard-brain! I'm gonna gut you like a deer!" the soldier shouts with a bloodthirsty grin as he swings his longsword at Balasar with a snarl of excitement, some drool dripping from his curled lips.

Stepping to the side and parrying a follow-up attack from the Wolvar, Balasar's leg crackles with blue arcs of electricity as he kicks the canine firmly in the chest and sends him skidding back, his fur smoking softly, "The only one getting gutted here is you, flea-bag!"

Balasar's eyes widen as the Wolvar soldier begins to chuckle, lifting his blade before reaching behind him and drawing a dagger from his belt in a reverse grip, brandishing both weapons at the two, "Nah, I think I'll be the one doing the gutting, friend. Your little tricks aren't very effective, as you can see," the canine says with a grin, lunging forwards and engaging the young lord with a flurry of blows, which he barely manages to evade and parry.

"Midri, get out of here and go ahead! I can manage here!" the silver-scaled Dragon-kin shouts to his companion, her eyes narrowing in determination and the gears appearing over her eye before Balasar glows with a soft light.

'Did she...make this mutt slower? No...I'm faster,' he thinks to himself, internally grinning as it becomes significantly easier to dodge and redirect the Wolvar's blows, "Thanks, Midri! Make sure my mother is alright!"

"Yes, my Lord! Join me once you have killed this mongrel!" Midri shouts as she hurries towards the door to the garden, the roaring of the fire inside the keep making any possible sounds of battle muted.

"You think sending your slave is going to do you any good?" the soldier asks with a sneer as he picks up his pace, the speed of his attacks growing and becoming more accurate, Balasar earning a few nicks and cuts, "This just means I don't need to focus on another enemy, you fucking idiot!"

Refusing to answer his taunt, Balasar focuses on avoiding further injury, using his training and experience on the battlefield to predict his opponent's movements, wild as they are. He starts to notice a pattern in the attacks, the Wolvar swinging the dagger once before striking out twice with the sword, leaving a small opening in his defenses when he draws back his sword to strike with the dagger.

Once the pattern repeats itself a couple more times, Balasar lets his hand crackle with magic as he pushes it forwards, the Wolvar grinning eagerly as the hand makes contact with his breastplate. That grin turns into a raised brow and a soft whimper of confusion as a large amount of water sends the Wolvar flying into the corner of one of the hallways, knocking down a half pillar that was thankfully not currently housing a decoration.

Growling in annoyance, the Wolvar shakes his head a couple of times to clear it before getting back to his paws, baring his teeth at Balasar, "How do you have two magic types? No matter, you won't be able to-"

The soldier is cut off as everything below his head flash freezes, Balasar panting softly as he lowers his hand, the soldier looking down at the ice, "Tell me, cur! Did you set my home ablaze!? Did you kill my people!?"

The Wolvar looks up from the ice encasing his body and tilts his head in clear confusion, though he doesn't seem particularly worried, "Killed? Buddy, I haven't found anyone worth killing. I only kill warriors that I best in combat, and everyone just ran away from me when I showed up and starting setting things on fire."

"So...the fact that we saw no corpses along the way meant that..."

"Yeah, we didn't kill anybody. Our target is the Queen, I just stayed back here to fight whoever was dumb enough to try coming to her rescue," the Wolvar says with a grin, his blue eyes starting to glow orange as his body bursts into flames for a moment, the ice around him shattering before he stretches a bit. The fire around his body extinguishes a moment later, and he lifts his arms above his head to stretch before he winks at Balasar, "Shall we continue, pal? I got plenty more in store for you, I can promise that much."

"Fire magic, hm? Damn, it appears as though we may be at a stalemate here," the young lord says with a raised brow, bringing his sword up in a defensive stance, "What say you simply leave, and we call it a draw for now?"

"Oh, suuuure. I'll just leave and go hoooome. No, I'm not gonna just walk away, stupid," the Wolvar says with a grin, though the grin fades as he hears several pairs of footsteps, "Oh hey, looks like my backup arrived. What are you gonna do now, you dumb-"

"My Prince! We are here!" the voice of the commander calls out from around the corner, several Dragon-kin and a pair of Vulpans that look strikingly similar to one another coming into view. "Halt, scum! You will not escape us!"

"Oh, really? Yeah, I think I'll take my leave now, seeing that this development puts me at a severe disadvantage," the Wolvar admits with a chuckle, turning and running down the crossway in a direction away from the garden doors and the reinforcements, "Seeya later, suckers! You and I will fight again, you gaudy lizard!"

"Come back here!" Balasar shouts with anger at this display of cowardice, his brow raising as the Wolvar winks at him, though Balasar growls in anger as the soldier uses his fire magic to create a wall of fire. The stone below and around the flames do not seem to burn, yet the heat felt from the flames is all too real, making pursuit impossible, "You coward! Fight me here and now!"

"My Prince, where is Midri? Is she alive?" the commander asks with a worried expression, Balasar's soft nod making him sigh in relief, "Then let us progress to where the Queen is. We can catch him and execute him after we rescue her."

Nodding his head again, Balasar turns away from the wall of fire and begins to run towards the now open doors to the garden, "I'm glad you all managed to catch up! This is not a battle I wish to fight alone!"

"No need to thank us," one of the Vulpan twins, Cass, starts, "We've told you before, we're with you, my Prince," the other, Lupe, finishes, the twins having a habit of completing each other's sentences.

"We all feel the same way, my Lord!" the commander calls out, the glint of determination clear in his eyes, "We are the guard, and we will protect this city and its Queen with our very lives!"

A chorus of cheers from the assembled soldiers makes Balasar's heart swell with happiness and pride, grateful to have such loyal subjects in his mother's kingdom, and his life. Without another word, the now larger group bursts from the doorway and enters the garden, another screech of rage heard from the now visible source of the earlier noise.

"Mother!" Balasar calls to the winged, tri-horned female flying in the air, her limbs covered in jagged spikes that could impale most species with ease. Her large head turns to face Balasar, and a smile splits her face, her tail skewering a Wolvar soldier that tried to take advantage of the distraction, "We've come to assist! Are you well!?"

"Very!" she says, swiping a large limb through several bushes and even more Wolvar soldiers, sending one flying over the leader of this group's head before they impact a pillar with a loud crack and slump to the ground, "These fleas have severely underestimated us, my son! Let's show them why we have ruled for as long as we have!"

"Oh n-no...we can barely hold the Demon Queen back as it is, we can't handle more reinforcement," the enemy commander says with clear worry, though she still holds her sword towards Balasar and his group, "B-but the Leader would have my head if I surrendered."

"It is not too late to surrender, you know," Balasar says while raising his own sword towards her, "You can escape the death penalty for assaulting royalty if you surrender now. Your 'Leader' can't reach you here."

"You don't understand...you can't understand! He'll find me, and he'll kill me!" she shouts with clear fear and anger in her voice, charging forwards and swinging at the prince, "I can't fail h-him! I can't!"

Balasar parries her clumsy and fearful swing, then grabs her sword arm and wrenches it to the side, a cry of pain and the clanging of a dropped sword heard in rapid succession. The enemy commander's eyes widen as she realizes that she has been caught, and she begins to struggle in Balasar's grasp, making him sigh before glaring down at her.

"Cease your pointless struggling, you will not esca-"

A large ripple flows through the body of every being present, a large, pure white hole tearing open above them in the sky. Then, walls of light fall to the earth below with a resounding crash, Balasar's view of his mother cut off as he, his party, and the Wolvar in Balasar's grasp.

"No! What sorcery is this, mutt!? Tell me how to stop this spell!" Balasar shouts, the canine whimpering and tucking her tail between her legs from fear at his raised voice, seeming just as shocked as him, "This is your people's doing, isn't it!?"

"N-no! I d-don't know what that i-is! I can't s-stop it!" the enemy commander says with a wavering voice and a stutter, clearly terrified from the events around her. She lets out a whimper and glances at her held arm, giving weak tugs to try and free herself, "L-let me go! I don't want to die! I w-wanted to have pups a-and find a mate after serving m-my country! This I-Isn't what I wanted!"