Thread: Stubborn Drake WHO: Sorin & Jae WHEN: Sunday afternoon, May 3 WHERE: Lower levels of the castle
Sorin's fist hovered over the page, trembling with tension. The air around him crackled with power, shots traveling up his arm like electricity through his veins. His breathing was labored, sweat dampened his hair to frame his face, and his stature was braced as though a great weight was trying to drag him down through the stone floor of the lower levels of the castle. Sorin wasn't going to let go. He was the master here.
The page at his feet warped, bending up, folding like something beneath it was trying to push through. The image on the piece of paper was a small red drake, a wyvern that, in the picture, was wrapped around a rock, sharp eyes watching.
The image moved.
Sorin flexed his arm, exerting the physical effort it took to summon the creature into being, and a tiny clawed wingtip appeared through the page, followed by a scaled head. Sorin looked and saw and he spoke again in command, the language Romanian: "Come forth, friend."
He'd been trying to summon the drake for the past few weeks, ever since the dragon attack. Dragons were common stories and legends in Romania and most places in the rest of the world. Everyone had their own legend, but Sorin had been reading specifically on the wyverns of Wales. When he found this red beauty, he couldn't resist trying to make her come out.
He never imagined it would be so difficult to summon a drake.
As the creature's long neck rose from the page and looked around, her ruby eyes slanted up at the summoner and she squeaked in a shrill defiant sound, then withdrew with a flash of wing and fire.
Sorin collapsed forward as though he'd been jerked down by an invisible force. Magic dissipated around him in pulses that gradually lessened to leave the summoner on his knees in the big chamber. A rogue breeze fluttered the page he'd taken from the book on Wales and it blew a few feet away from him with the image of the drake still intact and unchanged except for the placement of her claws on the rock.
Sorin stayed down, breathing heavily and clutching his fist against his chest. He wet his lips and looked up at the high ceiling, wondering what he was doing wrong.