Outcast (The Blue Dragon's Geas) by Cheryl Matthynssens Page B
Authors: Cheryl Matthynssens
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His eyes narrowed, and despite being alone, he snarled at the idea. Yet the Daezun had managed to hold their ground over the many centuries of conflict. It was not until Lerdenia realized that no new magics were coming forth that they had even considered peace. Luthian planned to bring an end to the time of peace and make it a time of rule. But to do that, he had to be able to fight Daezun on their own ground.
That had been the start of creating and molding the Black Guard. He had named them for the black leather and mail armor they wore. He saw them as slightly above the Daezun people because at least they could be taught the battle magics. Due to being raised in Lerdenian luxury or cast out of their own Daezun homes, Luthian had been able to spoil them just enough to keep their attention. His harsh expectations enforced by corporal punishments, often lethal, commanded a feared regard. He had no qualms at killing one for a failure to study. Of course, he made sure it was through an exhibition of his own fiery power, and only to ones who had failed to live up to the potential that they had initially shown. Luthian did not care whether the Black Guard respected him, feared him, or saw him as a benefactor as long as they followed his orders. His mind drifted to the young female that had failed to practice her archery skills and who had not lived up to his expectations. He had shown the Daezun not only how to treat a less er female but also what happened when they failed him. He could still hear her screams from within the fiery column he had called down upon her when he had finished.
The door swung open, its hinges creaking from the heavy metal weight, startling the mage from his thoughts. Luthian spun around. His brother was so unlike him. He wore black robes trimmed in silver. His hair was still jet black, and his eyes seemed to glisten with an intelligence that made Luthian nervous. Yet his brother never overstepped his place. He seemed to have no designs for anything higher than the fifth tier. This suited Luthian for he suspected there were depths to his brother that he did not understand. His brother had always seemed weak at first, and so he had sent him out as one of the traveling enchanters and healers. He had given him the charms to insure chances into the circles. However, on a trip a couple years ago, Henrick had come back different and that difference had made Luthian wary. He was sure his brother had laid hands on a more powerful stone, but when he had attempted to press the issue, his brother had seemed as simple as ever. Henrick had become more independent and free with his thoughts. The usual boot kissing behaviors had ceased. He smiled absently. He had rather liked instilling those behaviors in his brother, maybe he needed to do it again.
Henrick sauntered into the room. His voice was hoarse and raspy. “Sorry brother, I have been ill. I fear I had to dress to attend your summons. How may I serve?" He bowed low before Luthian.
Luthian’s eyes narrowed for his brother was rarely sick. However, he did indeed look pale and somewhat harried. His robes were wrinkled and appeared to have been slept in. That was another difference he had noticed over the last two years, Henrick had become much more fastidious about his appearance. This unkempt state was not his usual manner in the last two years. Luthian shook himself from his thoughts. “The son you have in Smallbrook, when did you last test him?”
Henrick looked at his brother slightly in surprise. “I am due to test him in the next trip. Why do you ask? You seemed to have no interest in the boy in our previous conversations." Henrick’s usual bored expression of late was broken as his eyes moved to Luthian.
“He has come into his power, you fool. You missed it, and he has harvested from a rather large stone." Luthian snarled out in tones that were harsh with his displeasure. His sharp eyes were intent upon the lesser mage.
“Oh, how did you
That had been the start of creating and molding the Black Guard. He had named them for the black leather and mail armor they wore. He saw them as slightly above the Daezun people because at least they could be taught the battle magics. Due to being raised in Lerdenian luxury or cast out of their own Daezun homes, Luthian had been able to spoil them just enough to keep their attention. His harsh expectations enforced by corporal punishments, often lethal, commanded a feared regard. He had no qualms at killing one for a failure to study. Of course, he made sure it was through an exhibition of his own fiery power, and only to ones who had failed to live up to the potential that they had initially shown. Luthian did not care whether the Black Guard respected him, feared him, or saw him as a benefactor as long as they followed his orders. His mind drifted to the young female that had failed to practice her archery skills and who had not lived up to his expectations. He had shown the Daezun not only how to treat a less er female but also what happened when they failed him. He could still hear her screams from within the fiery column he had called down upon her when he had finished.
The door swung open, its hinges creaking from the heavy metal weight, startling the mage from his thoughts. Luthian spun around. His brother was so unlike him. He wore black robes trimmed in silver. His hair was still jet black, and his eyes seemed to glisten with an intelligence that made Luthian nervous. Yet his brother never overstepped his place. He seemed to have no designs for anything higher than the fifth tier. This suited Luthian for he suspected there were depths to his brother that he did not understand. His brother had always seemed weak at first, and so he had sent him out as one of the traveling enchanters and healers. He had given him the charms to insure chances into the circles. However, on a trip a couple years ago, Henrick had come back different and that difference had made Luthian wary. He was sure his brother had laid hands on a more powerful stone, but when he had attempted to press the issue, his brother had seemed as simple as ever. Henrick had become more independent and free with his thoughts. The usual boot kissing behaviors had ceased. He smiled absently. He had rather liked instilling those behaviors in his brother, maybe he needed to do it again.
Henrick sauntered into the room. His voice was hoarse and raspy. “Sorry brother, I have been ill. I fear I had to dress to attend your summons. How may I serve?" He bowed low before Luthian.
Luthian’s eyes narrowed for his brother was rarely sick. However, he did indeed look pale and somewhat harried. His robes were wrinkled and appeared to have been slept in. That was another difference he had noticed over the last two years, Henrick had become much more fastidious about his appearance. This unkempt state was not his usual manner in the last two years. Luthian shook himself from his thoughts. “The son you have in Smallbrook, when did you last test him?”
Henrick looked at his brother slightly in surprise. “I am due to test him in the next trip. Why do you ask? You seemed to have no interest in the boy in our previous conversations." Henrick’s usual bored expression of late was broken as his eyes moved to Luthian.
“He has come into his power, you fool. You missed it, and he has harvested from a rather large stone." Luthian snarled out in tones that were harsh with his displeasure. His sharp eyes were intent upon the lesser mage.
“Oh, how did you
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