like the rivers in the valley . The veins seemed to pulse with power .
“ Lord Kaeto ,” Mierta uttered , bowing , keeping his eyes averted to the ground .
Lord Kaeto was the last of his kind — an omniscient ancient breed of telepathic dragons that had been around for longer than any could remember . The residents of the kingdom looked at him as if he were a God , straight from the stories of old .
“ Mierta McKinnon . Rise ,” he spoke . “ It is your time to participate in the Rite of Wands in which your soul shall face the ultimate analysis . You will be taken on a journey of your lifetime , viewing portions of your past , present , and future . Do you concede ?” “ Yes ,” Mierta answered , his voice breaking . The Rite of Wands was a tradition among witches and warlocks when they reached their twelfth birthday . It was a ceremony , which once completed , would signify their initiation into the magical community , thereby allowing them to start practicing making potions and casting spells . I will not fail . I cannot fail , Mierta recited to himself . “ Very well ,” Lord Kaeto nodded , pleased . “ The Rite of Wands shall commence !” Lord Kaeto tilted his head upwards and blew fire from his mouth .
Mierta lifted his hands to cover his face . When he heard the sound of the bolt slide open from the other side of the room , Mierta lowered his hands to watch as the door opened with a loud creak .
“ Dragomir will be assisting me with the ritual ,” Lord Kaeto said as he eyed the warlock who was entering the room .
Out stepped a warlock wearing tall black boots , a black tunic with a golden lacing , royal blue breeches and a long sleeved white linen shirt . His face was hidden behind an orange and golden mask shaped like a dragon ’ s head . The warlock raised his right hand into the air and shouted , “ Forina olivet !”
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