Ascension Of The Blood Throne by Mikel Wilson (red scrolls of magic .TXT) 📗

The first to be called came from the side of the dark, the Shifter Elite, Cyrus Ostara. The six-foot-two blond haired wolf shifter stood from his seat as his council members stared in disbelief. He turned to his guard, Thomas, and nodded. As he climbed down from his seat, Mae Ching the female Jaguar shifter and council member stood to watch him. Cyrus approached the Prophet and as he did, he shifted to his wolf. He let out one final howl as his form vanished along with the sacred moonstone. The sound of his howl echoed throughout Foci for a moment longer.

The second to be called brought some relief to the dark as it was a name from the light, the Orc Elite, Ryza the Black. This was not a punishment for their transgression, it was an equal playing field. Ryza was one of the largest Elites outside of the giants. He stood over seven feet tall and was built for battle. Like those before him, he made no protest. He turned to his clan members, bowed, and headed for the Prophet. On the side of the light, those he passed bowed their heads, a show of respect and gratitude for his service and his sacrifice. As he made it to the Prophet, the Orc stood tall as his spirit was claimed and his form vanished. A silver warrior's collar hung in the air. The blood-red knowledge stone at its core gleamed under the light. It disappeared like its master and would appear again on the neck of the chosen.

The third to be called was a name that brought pause. The Dark Elite was the Irin, Anael. Five Irin had attended the Foci, including Anael and his triplet brothers, Remiel and Zerachiel. Their cedar-colored skin, stark-white brows, and bare-chested armor made them imposing figures. Born in the second generation of Angel rulers, Anael was one of the longest standing Elites and the only one who hadn’t appeared worried, until his name was called. With a tightened jaw, the eight-foot-tall Irin stood, along with his brothers. Suddenly, two sets of crimson wings spread from within him, sparks of energy glittering as they moved. He took to the sky as if he would try to escape his fate, but a moment later he landed with a force so hard it cracked the floor of Foci. He turned looking only at his people, as the crimson color faded from his wings and he too disappeared.

The fourth to be called was the Vampire Elite, from the Dark side Alexander stood. His pale skin stood in sharp contrast to the red glow of his eyes as he hissed, unhappy to have his name called. Unlike the others, the members of his clan seemed almost pleased with his demise. They forced somber expressions as their leader departed, heading for the Prophet. With each step towards the center of the Foci, Alexander lost the shield the Elite title gave to him. Though it was night, the sky opened with a beam of sunshine that met him at the base of the altar. Within moments the vampire, once impervious to the effects of the sun, began to disintegrate. His burning left a charred mark on the stone floor.

The fifth to be called was the Dragon Elite, Horace who was once known as the devourer. He stood from his position on the side of the Light, turned to the other members of the House of the Blue Flame, and allowed his honey brown skin to partially shift to reveal the sea blue scales of his dragon. He plucked one scale from his arm and handed it to the council members. This was his gift to she who would replace him. In a vibrant show, he turned to descend the steps of the colosseum while allowing his Blue Flame to dance across his skin. When he reached the altar, he shifted into the massive beauty that was his dragon, shot one blue streak of fire into the sky, and by the time the light had faded, the dragon was gone.

The sixth to be called was the Phoenix Elite, Paereon. The bird of fire sat perched on the highest level of the Foci looking down on his fellow Lights. When his name was called, his full lips lifted in a sad smile, and his mint green eyes glistened before shifting to a golden hue. Hanging around his neck was the Obsidian stone. Worn by each of the Phoenix Elites, it was a symbol of their strength. Accepting his fate, Paereon removed the stone and handed it to Olise, his trusted guard. She would ensure its safe handling until the new Elite was chosen. Allowing his flamed wings to blaze once more, he glided from his perch to the Prophet’s altar. Before his feet could touch the ground, the Phoenix turned to ash, never to rise again.

With no more names to call, the Prophet’s scroll disappeared from her hands and the hollow voice spoke once more. “Six. Six have fallen, six will rise, to right the wrong. Balance must be restored.”

Chapter One

TWO MONTHS LATER IN NEW YORK CITY

The cold air whistled through the buildings, and with the air came an unnatural mist, one that covered the Hudson river. A giant unmarked vessel appeared seemingly from nowhere and moved toward the shore. Inside this was an old wooden box carrying a precious cargo, something that would change the destiny of this city forever…

Lillith was an exceptional teenage girl and it was impossible not to notice it. Her body moved with athletic grace that came from hard practice in track and lacrosse. Her strength was nearly unmatched in every sport she played and she had the awards to prove it. She possessed an almost preternatural beauty. She had no need for cosmetics to enhance her brilliant green eyes surrounded by thick black lashes,