By: AnimalWriter1
Disclaimer: This is all Tamora's. I own the plot.
Thom of Pirates Swoop sat in King Jonathan's study. The aged king sighed tiredly, "You realize your mother is dead Thom. There is really no simple way of bringing her back"
"Yes Jon," Thom answered softly. The Lioness had died on the field, slaughtered by Scanran raiders, a week before. Upon her death she had become a pure legend but had left George distraught, Alan worried and Alianne saddened. Thom had stubbornly locked his grief away, shutting himself from others.
"I could try the spell that brought Roger of Contè back, only use it on Mother" Thom thought
Suddenly a messenger burst through the door and hastily bowed. "Sire, Three thousand Scanrans! On the border!"
"The Own?" Jon asked, standing from the seat.
"Third and Fifth Company's already riding out, also with Buriram Tourakom and few of the Riders" the messenger replied.
" They'll never survive out there. The odds are impossible and Alan…Oh gods!" Thom thought quickly putting two and two together.
"I'll go, they'll need more mages" Thom hastily looked to the king who nodded.
Thom hurried passed down the halls, his eyes clouded in fear. He suddenly bumped into a figure.
Thom looked at the figure he had collided with into and exclaimed "Roald!" Thom held out a hand.
Roald took the mage's hand. "Thom, it's been a while since I've last seen you. I'm sorry about the Lioness"
Thom met Roald's blue eyes with his own hazel green doggedly. "She didn't die in vain"
Roald read the expression in Thom's eyes. "Your brother's out there isn't he?"
Thom nodded.
"Good luck my friend, God's all bless" Roald offered a hand and Thom shook it firmly before heading down the hall once more.
Riding out on his stallion, Thom felt the fire of battle burn in his veins like adrenaline, his eyes burned with loathing.
Urging his mount harder through Corus and passed, Thom realized the battle was edging farther from the border and towards the capital.
The Tortallans were losing.
He saw the battle as he crested a hill; he urged his mount down into the chaos with a blood-curdling war cry.
Chaos seemed to reign as the battle pressed on. Thom killed without mercy, like an animal he raged, thinking of his mother that was killed by these monsters.
As he dismounted, the sky Thom saw, was gray and sun-less, rain then began to batter down on the battlegrounds, thunder boomed, roaring in his ears, white lightning flickered and snaked it's way across the black sky.
Arrows flew, swords clanged, orders, screams of pain and battle cries from either side filled the air. Gory bodies, armory and blood covered the once green grass; Thom saw brave men fall, and innocent cry for mercy.
Thom's anger grew as he saw one sister cradle her brother's body as he died, a mother hold her limp child, dead in her arms. But the battle did not stop, no matter how hard he shut his eyes he couldn't block the horrid images from his mind's eye, no matter how he tried to block out the sound of battle, it hammered and echoed in his ears…
Thom searched for the leader and found him trying to slink away. Thom followed him, hatred burning in his eyes like poison. After all he saw, the sister, the mother, losing those they loved, the warlord mage didn't deserve to live.
The warlord whirled around to face the son of the Lioness.
This was he, the warlord mage whose heart forever fed on hate and fear, whose one ambition was to destroy the country of Tortall. His hideously scarred face could send an icy chill down your spine and make your face as pale as the whitest of newly fallen snow, His eyes were sunken deep into his skull, red, lifeless, and dull as the eyes of Hell itself but they flared with wrath.
Thom wasn't afraid, even at this hideous sight. His fear was hidden beneath rage that burned at his heart.
Alan ran to his brother's side, his sword held aloft. "Murderer!" he whispered dangerously.
Thom put up a hand and faced his younger sibling, whispering, "You can't sacrifice yourself for me" the mage then placed himself between Alan and the warlord.
"Let us both finish now, what you have began…" Thom murmured.
Alan tried to move but had been blocked by a wall of magic, he could only stand, watch and pray for his brother's safety, while Thom fought the Scanran warlord alone…
"We shall Son of the Lioness" the warlord replied, whispering a word under his breath. But Thom was prepared for this, he expected it, Thom blocked his attack, and sent out one of his own.
The warlord mage cried out in pain as a throbbing force coursed through him, a light the color of the Lioness' eyes seemed to cause this pain, The warlord yelled, "Attack! Spirits from the deep depths of Hell, Come forth and destroy!" the warlord lifted his hand and golden light, his Gift, filled his palm to spill over the ground like melted gold.
Suddenly the ground shook and a piercing shriek filled the air as transparent specters flew from the ground.
Thom cried out and covered his ears and shut his eyes tightly. The screeches elevated and Thom's cries grew louder, Alan watched helplessly as his brother fell to his knees his eyes still shut.
When Thom thought he would go deaf from the noise, the screeching abruptly stopped, Thom uncovered his ears and opening his eyes He found the warlord still standing across from him, a wicked smile on his scarred face.
With a word of power the spirits charged at Thom.
On impulse Thom quickly stood and called upon his Gift, he shot purple balls of magic at the spirits and immediately the spirits retreated. The warlord mage snarled, much like a wolf, in disgust and confusion.
There was a flash of magic, purple and gold from the two mages. Thom rolled and ducked as the bolts of gold light nearly missed him.
Suddenly an arrow sighed through the air and dug deep into the armor and flesh of the warlord mage's stomach, sending him doubling over in a strangled cry of agony. Thom turned to see a solider with a crossbow in hand, the second arrow poised to fire, his eyes were unsympathetic, "Lord Reyn, son of Maggur, surrender in the name of Mithros" the solder cried, he then gasped as he was stabbed from behind and killed.
Thom released Alan from his shield and turned to Reyn.
Alan stepped forward and pressed the tip to Reyn's throat and forced the warlord mage to look into the young knight 's determined hazel-green eyes.
"Brainless Tortallans!' "You dare to challenge a lord of Scanra?' Reyn choked, his red eyes harsh.
"First you murder the Champion, and a great friend to the king. Second you try and overtake us. What makes you so sure I won't slit your throat here and now? " Alan jeered.
"You think you are a hero young knight? Like your dead mother? Well you thought wrong!" Reyn growled, a strange glint in his red eyes.
In one fluid motion Reyn clutched the hilt of Alan's sword and wrestled it from Alan's hands and thrust it through Alan's throat. Alan didn't cry out but instead fell to the ground in a lifeless heap.
Reyn threw the sword carelessly at the knight's feet.
"NO! ALAN!" Thom cried out in anguish to his younger brother and ran to his brother's side. Thom already could feel warm blood at his feet, soaking the ground in crimson, and knew his young knighted brother was dead.
Sobbing as he collapsed on his knees, Alan's blood covering his hands, he could feel a burning hate rise in him, one that flooded his soul with fire and his body with fresh strength. He smoothed Alan's hair back from his pale face and closed his brother's glassy eyes.
Lord Reyn would pay dearly…
Thom placed his brother's body on the ground and stood making the sign against evil on his chest.
Thom faced Reyn, his eyes blazing and his Gift glowing violently on his palms, slowly he stepped forward. "You will pay, you Scanran filth!" Thom snarled, his voice revealing no terror, only disgust.
Reyn only laughed "You, a mere mortal mage against all of Scanra? The odds are two hundred, not counting the ones that were killed, to one"
Picking up his brother's dropped sword, Thom faced the lord. "No. We fight one on one. You and I finish this"
"Very well son of the Lioness, very well" murmured Reyn, picking up a battle-axe and holding it to strike.
Thom blocked and swiveled as Reyn swiped to behead the mage. Thom's hands guided the blade unconsciously and suddenly he found Reyn on his knees, Alan's blade rested against his throat.
"You will pay mutt!" Thom whispered, slitting the warlord mage's throat.
Panting, Thom rested leaned against Alan's sword for support, his knees suddenly felt weak.
A black ghost suddenly rose out of Reyn's throat. Thom gasped and stood his ground a second time.
The ghost cried, "Foolish creature! Soon all of you will feel my hate and suffer as I have suffered…' with that the black spirit inside his soul charged at Thom.
Thom blocked the attack with the sword, and with all of his strength he held Reyn's spirit in check, the force of his power against the sword was soon too great, the sword began to shed a bright light blinding them all, the force of this shedding radiance finally burst out, and Thom was blown back as the light scattered like a hurricane, all were windblown by the force of the light and blinded by the brilliance, then everyone seemed to hold their breath as a profound silence hovered over the war-torn land of Tortall…
Darkness then clouded his vision as Thom blacked out from the exhaustion and shock.
A few hours later…Gasping, Thom opened his eyes and sat up, looking around searching for a familiar face or sign. He saw his father; George sat in a chair near the bed.
"Father…Alan he--" Thom began but George lay a hand on his shoulder silencing him.
"I know Thom, I know. They brought him in and cleaned him up. Raoul and Kel found you both and brought you and Alan in along with a few others" George answered, his eyes and voice revealing his exhaustion.
"Lord Reyn is dead" Thom murmured.
"You fought a brave battle, Thom" George remarked.
"But Alan too is dead because of me!" Thom protested.
"He fought bravely as well. Like your mother did before she was… stabbed and--killed…" George wiped forming tears from his eyes and sighed.
Thom looked to the floor, he had been close to his mother, even when she was off fighting battles, and her loss had hit hard. And now his brother was dead, because of his foolish actions…
Thom had once been told: "To achieve much we must suffer much …"
He hadn't understood then, but he now that advice made faultless sense. During that battle he had felt his logic leave him and only his action and emotions guided him to the end. It toughened him and replaced his fear. Yet he had lost his young brother in exchange for a victory.
Six Years later…A messenger knocked on the door of Master Thom of Pirates Swoop's suite. There was a quiet reply of "Come in" and the messenger walked in.
Placing down his pen, he had been writing a letter to Aly, Thom turned to the messenger.
"Master Thom, His Majesty King Roald requests your presence in his study" the messenger bowed slightly.
Thom thanked the messenger, handed him a coin for his efforts and stood from his desk.
Walking along the familiar halls, Thom thought of his childhood: of his mother and father, his brother and sister, and of his friends the King of Tortall, Roald and the Empress of Carthak, Kalisan. He had been only six, Roald and Kally ten, but they had become good friends.
Thom sighed and knocked on Roald's slightly opened study door. Roald told him to come in and Thom entered.
"Ah, Thom, please sit" Roald smiled and gestured to a chair in front of his desk.
With a curt nod the mage sat.
Roald folded his hands on the desk. "You remember when you fought Lord Reyn of Scanra?"
"I was trying to forget that" Thom said.
"Well if Scanra refuses to sign the treaty, war will certainly break out and I was curious if you would like to teach young mages in the battle arts?" the king asked.
"Teach them to kill with curses and spells. Teach them that violence is the only way to solve things. I'm sorry Roald but I can't"
Roald gazed at his friend and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "It was a choice Master Thom"
"Alan didn't have a choice when he became a knight…He had to go out and fight" Thom murmured.
"Alan knew it was a dangerous battle but he rode out anyway. He also knew Thom; he had to uphold his country's honor. He swore an oath to the Crown and he kept it… it takes courage to go against the odds of three thousand Scanrans" Roald replied.
"My mother and brother died fighting the lord" Thom answered.
"Sir Alan and Alanna did not die in vain" Insisted Roald.
"Someone once told me that to achieve much, we must suffer much" Thom mumbled.
"Whoever told you that was right, my friend…" Roald murmured. "But we don't always have to suffer…"