The Elf King by Sean McKenzie Page B

her blood. Something was terribly wrong with
her. With her eyes half open, half conscious, she could see the
other’s robed arms infusing within her own. It was entering. What’s happening!
    As darkness began to funnel
her vision, closing everything in a black wash, Queen Sienna closed
her eyes tight, as she had while taking the life of Turyn
Andelline.
    The spirit of the Mrenx Ku pulsated inside
the Queen’s body. Her eyes opened anew, holding for a second the
terror that she had left them with. Her body rose from the bed,
hunched, functioning like strings were controlling her movements. A
smile crept over her face and a deep guttural laugh escaped her
once soft lips.
     
     

Chapter 7
     
     
     
    I t
was nearing mid-afternoon when Shadox was free of the Lyyn Forest
and entered the Lor Plains. He traveled north from the Ailia Court
on horseback, but once the woods turned heavily knotted, he sent
the horse home and went ahead on foot. He was heading to the ruins
of a fortress hidden within the Stone Flats, long bereft of heirs,
to where his newest protégé Ankar Rie was busy learning. As the
plains stretched away before him, with rocks and giant
split-boulders edging the horizon, his thoughts dwelled on his
first pupil: Dren.
    Dren had been far younger
than Ankar Rie was when he had taken him in, but also far more
scarred. Dren’s parents were killed when he was a small boy,
leaving a wound that fed on his anger. Shadox remembered how long
it took him to teach Dren something without the boy lashing out
every time he failed. Dren’s anger easily got the best of him back
then. Shadox taught Dren how to be patient; he showed Dren how
necessary it was to have control over his emotions. It wasn’t easy,
but Dren did change. He learned how to channel his anger through
education and repetition, always pushing himself harder to be
stronger faster, hungry to stand alone.
    Only now looking back,
could Shadox see the course he had set Dren on. Shadox had failed
the boy. “He wasn’t ready,” the sorcerer mumbled to himself, as if
admitting the blame would somehow unshackle the chains that bound
him to the guilt.
    He quickened his pace,
eager to leave the small grass of the Lor Plains, wishing to reach
the rocky terrain of the Stone Flats within a few hours. His
strides were long and purposeful. He had little time to search what
information would be available and right his wrongs, as he saw it.
Help would be needed, of course, and he knew where to find it.
Ankar Rie would be ready, he told himself. He would not end up like Dren!
    The relationship between
Shadox and his two protégés differed. Though he was close to them
both, and taught them both the same, Ankar Rie was more of a
comrade and seen as an equal. Ankar was in his early stages of
adulthood when Shadox met him; he was already comfortable with who
he was and patient as a student. He was rational and didn’t speak
carelessly. He was hungry, but not so eager that he made poor
decisions. He had seen enough of life to know what a situation
called for and when to leave something alone.
    After several months with
the sorcerer, Ankar Rie was training on his own. Shadox was
impressed, admiring his techniques as if their roles had been
reversed. It did not take Ankar long before he was one of the
strongest allies Shadox had.
    Dren on the other hand, was
young and in many ways vulnerable. His childhood had left him
angry; his youth made him impatient. But Shadox saw past his
immaturity and found his potential.
    Shadox felt his heart ache
terribly. He knew the reality of the situation. The only hope of
saving what remained his protégé was to destroy what he had
become.
    Dren would not be coming
back to Illken Dor.
    It took a few hours before
Shadox entered the Stone Flats. Gravel littered the dirt beneath
him like leaves in autumn as the field grass of the Lor grew sparse
and then non-existent. The further he strode, the larger and more
congested the rocks became. Soon