Chatterbox: Inkwell

Nano novel! DOING ITTT! It's called Skysword: Firestorm, and here's the prologue:

A cloak flaps in the wind as its wearer pushes through the raging snowstorm. "Venti Obstructionum!" the figure says, and, with a flash of light, there is a circle of calm around them. they look around to check for onlookers, but they are the only one crazy enough to be out now. Satisfied, they hold up an amulet. "Ianuae Magicae Denor Village!" They disappear in a flash of blue light. 

Unbeknownst to them, there was someone else in the snowstorm. They too held up an amulet, and copied the words of the other figure.

The figure from before ran up the steps of a house, their cloak almost tripping them. They knocked on the door, and a man with wild grey eyes and dark hair answered the door. "Were you followed?" the man asks  in a hushed whisper. 

"I don't think so, but you can never be too careful."

"I'll put up the shields." He mutters something under his breath, and a mist races through his fingers, then disappears. The windows tint blue. The figure lowers her hood and smiles. She embraces the man. "How's Leila?"

"Well, and active as a serpent in a snowstorm!" 

"So, asleep?"

"Er, yes."

She smiles, her whitish blond hair falling around her face as she undoes the neat ponytail she had it in. "Anyway, how are you doing today, Azreal?"

"Good, Lyra. You?"

"Good." He smiles, and his face suddenly hardens.

"Did you run into any Valcor soldiers?"

"Yes, but they left me alone."

"Good. We don't need any more trouble than we're already in."

"Yes. Did you know they're outlawing magic?"

"What? How dare the-"

"Azreal!"

"Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"I know."

"Hmmph."

"Anyway, all magic?"

"Yeah, and guess what the penalty is."

"Prison?"

"Burning."

"But that's barbaric! Do they want to be the Xarvan Empire now?"

"Actually... Yes. They've proclaimed a new holiday celebrating the "Sacrifice" of the Xarvan Empire in their failed attempt to destroy the 'evil Sorcerors'"

"No."

"Yeah."

"How dare the foul Tenarvans!"

"Language!"

"Don't scold me."

Whatever she was going to say was drowned out by a yell of "Found  'em!" 

They stared at each other in horror. "Get Leila and go!" said Lyra, a steely glint in her vivid green eyes. "I'll hold them off!" A battering ram broke through the door, and scores of armored warriors came through, dark magic gathering at their fingertips. Azreal ran.

As he burst through the door of the bedroom, he heard flashes of magic bolts, and screams- though none of them sounded like Lyra's. He allowed himself a small, smug, smile. He knelt beside the crib, and, shaking, ripped off his teleportation amulet, and strung it around the baby's shoulders. "Ianuae Magicae Thornrose Mansion, West Starfall!" the baby shimmered out of existence, and grabbing his sword off the mantle, raced out to help Lyra. When he found her, Lyra was being targeted by a huge man with a Darkfire amulet, and Azrial shot a Bolt at him, knocking him over onto another, smaller man, who died from the other one breastplate hitting his head. "I told you to go!" yelled Lyra, skillfully disarming someone, then stabbing her. 

"Yeah, and?" 

"SO GO!" she screamed, then gasped in horrer asa knife point emerged from Azreal's chest. she spun around and kept on slicing, but was quickly overcome.