The Elementalist : Next of Kin: The Kothian Chronicles

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Authors: Andrew Wood
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break out."
     
    There was a short pause, "I hope he gets here soon," Oran said trying not to let the enormity of the situation get the better of him. "We need to make sure that the non-combatants are brought into the inner wall," he added turning about and heading back toward the small door that led off the roof. At the bottom of the steps leading down stood his military commander, "I assume things looked no better form up there Sire?" Denny Porter asked him. The king merely shook his head, before indicating for him to follow, as he headed down the corridor at pace.
     
    All the guards normally positioned outside the royal quarters were sent out to fight. If the enemy had gotten this far in, a handful of soldiers would not stop the inevitable. Oran had hoped that there may have been some secret escape tunnel for his wife and children to use, but unfortunately Katrina had informed him that if there indeed was one, she did not know of it. His son Anden had offered to fight alongside those on the wall, but Oran had persuaded him instead to keep guard of his mother and sister. The boy was only just in his teenage years, and although no younger than some of the magicians putting themselves in the firing line to protect Pitford, Oran could not bring it upon himself to place his own son in such a position.
     
    In a small windowless room sat a dejected forlorn figure. Kurtis Raston still had the vivid memory of what he had done; although as to why he had done it was something he still did not fully understand. He was technically under house arrest, confined to his room until those in power decided his fate. Even his meals were bought to him, three times a day, usually by one of the king's guard, although that in itself did show they at least trusted him to make good on his word he would not try to escape.
     
    Ramon had not visited him in several days, something that the man had been doing at least two or three times a day before his unexplained absence. Despite the visits only being Ramon asking the same questions over and over, it was at least time not spent alone. His only other contact with the outside world was usually the guard that took him his meal; although it appeared, even he was not going to be turning up today.
     
    Shonna had spent the last few hours flying south and west in the first part of her latest task asked for by her king. Swooping low just a few feet above the waters of the great lake, she could already see her target ahead of her. As she moved in behind the enemy, she hoped to remain unnoticed, hoping their eyes were fixated on the Bosarians to their front, and not the skies behind. Shonna felt her heart beating faster as she climbed just a little for her attack; she would show them just what an Aclat could do. It was not those walking at the back of the enemy position she wanted, but those lining up against her fellow countrymen at the front. Willing her beast to fly as quickly as it could, she felt the cold wind rushing against her face as the beast coiled back its head.
     
    Ramon watched on once more after returning to the front of his defensive lines. Those lined up before him appeared in no hurry to attack, probably he thought doing so on purpose to delay him further. As soon as Darion and Maxim were ready, he would at last be able to go on the offensive, and push with great haste back to Pitford.
     
    He felt a sudden shudder run through his tired body, usually a sign or warning against something terrible happening. Turning his head quickly he dived for cover, shouting as a large flying beast soared just a short distance above. After hitting the ground hard, he looked up to see a terrible sight, as flames spewed forth from the flying creature. Those of his men caught in the fire were not as fortunate as he had been, as they flailed about aimlessly, before collapsing into a smouldering lump on the ground.
     
    Darion moved forward, teleporting the distance between the flames and the front lines in a

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