[Worm]

Laurel's bark groaned as they lifted an arm to the pinned newcomer. Roots began worming through his fingertips, streaming towards the human. They would wrap around the human's form and hold it securely in place, lifting it a couple inches from the ground. He didn't trust the grumbling creature. It was alone, it was human. "What do they call you, human?" He thought that his original question was straightforward enough, but apparently the creature was too daft to give an appropriate answer. "This is dryad territory." Laurel's eyes glowed with the warm magic of the forest. The smell of his moss surely bleeding into the human's nose now as roots tangled up its torso, near strangulation.

---

Askal was more than ready to take his mother's seat. He prepared by reading all that he could of ancient magic. The sort which originally brought their ancestors to throne. According to The Illumination of Itrix, thousands of years ago, there was war between all races. Which meant that at one point, they were almost equal. It was the elves which called upon the gods to bestow them gifts and blessings. There were two other blessed races, one of which had already been exterminated by war. The last being dryad, who were too gentle to cause any alarm to the elves. It took one sweep of fire to kill them too. But he needed to be prepared for another uprising. Especially, for what he had planned.

Elves were the superior race. They were efficient, logical and blessed. The gods wouldn't have chosen them, if they weren't meant to rule. He blinked a couple of times, realizing how long it had been since he last did so. Looking up to the ticking of a clock, he closed his book. He stroked its spine, bound on the skin of dragons. He took a deep breath and carried the book back to his apothecary. The light of morning would soon peek into the greenhouse. High glass ceilings surrounded an ethereal garden, lush with life. Askal moved through it like a ghost, the only thing lacking in life. As the light filtered in with pure, morning glow, he watched a specific plant rise with the sun. It was this blooming plant that would bestow him regal power. He clipped the bud from its stem just as it blossomed. A beautiful, ink black flower oozed blood from where it was cut. Askal smiled, satisfied with the fruits of his labor.