Standing under the noon sun, sweating and sweltering under its gaze, were ten men of rough character and hard features. Standing in a line outside a luxurious house of wine and splendor, they looked on with varying expressions.
Time ticked by the heat turning and churning the men’s ire. Breathing heavily with twitching hands, some hovered traitorous limbs that pulled at their own clothes.
“Think of the money, think of the money. Vulcan have mercy on me, this money is wife money.”
Nur looked briefly to the man next to him, who was swaying left and right while mumbling increasingly erratic things. He looked down at his own outfit, several layers of unnecessary heavy tunics. Closing his eyes and channeling essence throughout his body, he could feel the heat sapping the energy directly from his body.
“Fuck this, damn sun is melting the hair off my balls!”
Like a piece of a dam being blown off, such words triggered the rage of more and more of the men who began to rip off their clothes and storm off in haste. Jeers and taunts rang out from the passerby who noticed the commotion from a main street nearby, turning the red-faced men green then purple then back to red again.
Five remained.
Time continued to pass.
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The door of the wine house opened, revealing a genteel figure who was holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a thick ornate fan in the other. Two servants followed him and placed down a chair and after he sat upon it, they pulled out two fans made of feathers and began to cool him.
Taking a lazy sip from his bottle, the young man looked upon the sweaty men below him with scrutiny. He noted that despite the heat they stood tall, back straight and knees unbending.
“You may be wondering why I asked you to wear such clothes and do nothing but stand,” began the man in a lazy yet condescending tone, “it is because the task at hand is one that requires discipline more than anything else.”
He pointed his fan towards the four in front of him with dramatic flair, his pristine white toga flowing in the wind with his movements.
“For example, if I say Jump.”
Four men jumped on command. The last looked left and right, confused for a moment, before jumping as well.
“Then you will jump. Anything other than perfection will not be tolerated.”
Snapping his fingers, the two servants from before reappeared silently and walked towards the man who did not jump. They dragged him off and threw the now screaming man onto the street and out of sight.
“Four will have to do,” said the young man as he was handed several documents. Looking over them, he read them each one at a time only to glance up when he finished reading one completely.
“Three Apprentice Outriders, dropped out of the program and opted to join the garrison troops instead. On the tail end of your military service, with only two years left until complete.”
Three of the men looked down slightly, unable to meet the gaze of their prospective employer.
“And one who came on recommendation, from the western quarter of all places.”
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Laughing to himself he pointed at one of the three and then at Nur, “Though I do not like to look down on people, I cannot help but wonder what a sewage churner can do so well that they would be recommended to me. Fight one another, fists only.”
The Apprentice Outrider that was called stepped back and walked towards where he was directed, glaring at him with promised violence. Nur stood across the man but instead of putting his guard he instead opened his mouth to speak,
“We get paid more for performance, right? Have them all fight me at once.”
The employer gaped at this question for a moment before letting loose a boisterous laugh, his body shaking and eyes tearing up.
“What a show! My apologies for calling you a sewage churner, clearly your true talent lay in theatre!”
His laugher infected the other men present, who went joined in with malicious chuckles.
“I have no need for a clown in my task, though. Yet I will humor you, as payment for making my day a little brighter. Do it.”
Now Nur stood across three, who were cracking their knuckles and brimming with sadistic glee.
“Make sure to not kill him, we stand on the Emperor’s Road. I will not protect you if you break the commandments. Fight!”
The three men rushed forth, two running in a curve aiming for Nur’s flanks while the other only put one foot in his range and danced on the balls of his feet. The enclosure set; they all launched a powerful blow from three directions all at once at a stationary Nur.
“Outriders are powerful, they should survive this” mumbled Nur, who breathed in air and breathed out raw might.
His entire body infused with essence; with closed eyes he analyzed reality with his spiritual eye. Each of his hands short forth, grabbing two fists to encase them in an inescapable grip. For the man in front of him, he lightly moved his head to the side and then bashed it forward into the face of the combatant in front.
Pulling the now captive arms in his grasp, he pulled with all his might. Two popping sounds wrang out, followed by the two crashing into one another and breaking their noses on each other’s faces. Nur then let go of their hands and grabbed onto their necks, lifting them like kittens and throwing them forward as makeshift projectiles. Forward the bodies soared, dealing the final blow to the dazed man in the front.
The sound of glass shattering soon followed, the young man stood up in shock and stared at the scene in front of him with his mouth agape. Stepping down from where his seat was placed, he walked towards Nur with an awkward smile on his face. He clasped Nur’s shoulders and said,
“Wh-what a diamond in the rough! Ah, I must have been blind to not recognize a fellow essence manipulator. You are very talented, to be able to muster such power at your age. Oh, or maybe you just look really young?”
The man’s previous controlled and languid aura began to show cracks,
“How about a gift from me to you, as a way to let the wine to continue flowing? I can pull some strings and get an audience with someone who could recommend you to the College of Pontiffs itself! I can escort you to the meeting aft- “
His words stopped at once, his calm completely shattered as he stared dumbfoundedly at what lay before his eyes. An inconspicuous obsidian plaque lay dangling in view, with a stoic Nur looking down at him.
“A f-f-,” the young man breathed deeply before continuing, “a fellow future aspirant of the College, wow, what a pleasant surprise.”
He stepped back slightly, smiling and nodding to himself.
“Just, and I know this may sound random, but could you perhaps channel your full spirit. You know, just out of curiosity. I-I will even pay you double for the job, how about it!”
Looking at the clearly unsettled fellow, Nur pondered for a moment before shrugging lightly. Focusing for a moment, he flexed his might for the man to see.
The young man kept his smile for a moment, as he opened his own spiritual eye and gazed into the world of essence. Glittering, spinning, and ever-changing essence could be seen all around. Moving to the whims of an unseen conductor, completely free and without control. All except for the area directly above Nur, where a small vortex formed pulling all the essence tinged with two particular hues.
The young man watched how the essence coalesced into and then around the ground where Nur stood, like the man was the pathway for the heavens to spill downwards onto the mortal plane. Peering into the reflection of the pool of essence, the young man’s gaze was met by ephemeral figures that looked back upon him.
Chills ran down his spine, causing him to shut off his unseen eye in fright. He then looked at Nur, waving for him to stop and turned around with his back hiding his face. All he did for several moments was breathe deeply, until he turned around in a sudden flurry of motion.
He threw himself at Nur in a perfect parabolic arc. Landing on his hands and knees, he said with frightening sincerity:
“FORGIVE ME!”