Titus 'Storm King' Zlock.
***
Nothing about this was right. Nothing about this was good. Everything about it was strange. Too strange to be a mere coincidence. And I seemed to be the only one to see it.
Roheisa Deapou. Rua Nun. Opal of the Blackblood. Teofila Traversini. Toril O’Connell. Lucia Pike. Zarzok. Phelaia. Ale Nicchi. Zaos Torhorn. Ash. Eleven out of twenty students- more than half of a single party were capable of contending with Polaris’ rookies and not a single one was a prospect to walk in the Light. Nor were any of the remaining nine.
Twenty students. Twenty missed chances.
After the show we were just given, I was certain of us missing an additional nineteen chances come the end of tomorrow. Twenty more would come in the following days. In the end, we would be left with only one.
One out of fifty-five students.
One who would walk in the light. Only because he was born in it.
The turnover rate was laughable. Polaris was laughable in the eyes of others because of it. There was a time not too long ago when the mere word struck fear into the hearts of vagrants and birthed hope into the minds of the just. But as of late, the degenerates are too often seen jesting and rolling their eyes when they hear of the light, and those already walking in its embrace shun or ostracize or blaspheme against the very brightness devoted to protecting them; those that did neither seemed to strive towards vehemently refusing its embrace at every opportunity. While vexing, such an unfortunate reality had been just that for decades before my birth, an unfortunate reality. That was not the cause of my unease.
My unease came from Maru. More precisely, Maruleans. All of them had shown an inexplicable increase in power and ability when compared to the previous years, even the ones not native to Deapou Island. Additionally, those who weren’t from Maru showed considerable interest in exploring the realm post-graduation. The reasoning was obvious. Even I didn’t need an intelligence report to tell me of Amun’s intention to create a guild, nor did I need one to assume that the majority of Class 999 would be joining it in a few years' time. Intelligence was only needed to determine what the purpose of his guild would be.
That purpose only served to strengthen my unease.
He wanted to do what Emperor Morningstar and the Necro King had done. To claim a Tree of Life for his realm, and then explore the others while spreading terror in his wake. As great as his progenitor was, the Necro King was not without evil. His evil was simply overlooked because of the knowledge he shared with the realms. Amun would be the same case, I was sure. Perhaps even worse. And now, the Headmaster was handing the boy a venerable red wyrmling on a silver platter. Ingenious, but dangerous. A surefire way to get rid of the beast and a possible method to create a more troublesome monster than we started with.
My gut told me it was both. I had a feeling that one day, be it ten or twenty or even a hundred years from now; one day, we of Polaris would rue the day we allowed Zorrenor Knagh to convince us of this plan. A few outside of Polaris knew it. A few of the Instructors knew it also. Corym and Indra and the under-elf, for sure. Elves knew every-fucking-thing, even when the Mortal Plane would end. They just kept the secrets to themselves.
An old saying. But a true one nonetheless.
Doyle knew it too. He was sick in the face. Avoiding eye contact with any and everyone in the room. And quiet. Unenthusiastic in bragging about his students as usual. He knew something. Or he at least suspected something. And that was worth its weight in gold. We would have a talk later. But now, my priority lay in assessing one of the young knights I was to teach in just a few months' time.
Issac Galliard was his name. A knight to the young Prince Winston Epeth. He was a well-built one. Like Toril, but taller. Broader. Born with Shield and given Beam Magic, he was one of the lucky few to have such a balanced repertoire from the start. And he had guts. He needed work of course, but work could always be given. It was guts and resolve that made us Paladins what we were. Issac Galliard had them in excess.
From what I’ve seen thus far, Vlorlyn Lagunath and Corundum had them as well, but they both lacked what it took to Smite. They were more likely to be rangers and barbarians respectively. Both were occupations far beneath mine in stature, so it was time to move.
With a nod, I dismissed myself from our circle and gave a subtle motion to Doyle on my way over to the other Instructors. His weariness was palpable. So much that he gave no grimaces or groans while following me to the Fae.
“Corym, Indra. Eiriol.” I forced myself to bow during the last part. “A moment of your time, please?”
As expected, the wood elves exchanged a look of curiosity. But the under-elf. The Drow mutely snickered and sneered throughout her rise from the table and our departure from the Cap. So high and mighty, she was, she refused to even touch her feet upon the ground, deciding instead to levitate and float wherever she moved. A fine decision by me, lest she tainted something.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“You seem anxious, Zlock.” She finally, mockingly said. “A rare sight for someone of your…” she inhaled sharply. “Prominence.”
“Admittedly, you are correct.” I took a sigh to calm myself. “I fear for the after of this event.”
“As do we all.” Doyle wearily shook his head, a maddened expression strewn about his face.
A sad sight, truly. But I eased forward regardless, seizing hold of his weakened mind by way of a single step. “Perhaps I am missing something.” I glared at the elves. “You seemed eager just a few days ago.”
“Zeff was the eager one.” He phlegmatically laughed. “He’s been on board since the Headmaster first told us. But I’ll admit it.” He paused to give a deflated shrug. “I was intrigued enough to not say anything. At first. Now, I’m just… concerned.”
“Either Amun will kill the dragon or he will not. Either way, it could prove a problem. If he chooses to disregard the materials a-”
“He won't.” Doyle chuckled wryly, cutting me off. “He’s shown too much interest in them to just outright kill it. He- he told me if he were to ever meet one, he’d try talking to it.”
“Kill first, ask questions later, is a viable strategy for a necromancer.” Eiriol heckled again. “The grave has been dug either way. The Necro King’s ire has been stoked by the Wooded One pitting his great-grandchild against the same kind of beast that devoured his son. It is but a matter of time until he learns. In the meanwhile, the great-grandchild with either talk with the beast and let it go, kill it, or enslave it.
“But what will you do in either case?” Her smile was more cunning than that of any devil I had ever faced. There was a primal joy in her seeing us stressed.
There would be a time when I could smite those like her freely. And that time would soon come. That, I swore. For now, however… “I will speak with the Headmaster. Convince him to reconsider. Or, at best, to allow Lance to fight the beast instead.”
“Bah!” Eiriol boisterously laughed as if she’d been waiting for this moment. “Your prodigious Candle Boy is far too weak.”
“I beg your pardon!?” I turned, sighing through my teeth.
“And pardoned you are!” She snorted without hesitation. “Even light fades with distance, dear Titus, and Polaris has stretched its Light thin, has it not? I suppose that is to say your coveted light is no longer the power it once was. The irony is like wine to my lips.” She paused to give me a demeaning smirk. “The light is so focused on keeping the traditions of old that it has been blinded to the coming tide.”
“Eiriol!” Corym sneered before I could, and he did so with an intensity that almost churned like a raging tempest.
Curious.
The Abbot, however, ignored him entirely. She only kept smiling at me while her head lazily shook from side to side. “I will not help you in this request, Titus Zlock. I will not help your pretentious self-righteous masters in Polaris. I will not help the Wooded One. My task is to teach without bias and watch what becomes of the realms.”
“Your task, eh?” I stepped towards her. “Given to you by whom? Your Demon Spider?"
“Your mind is without wisdom, yes, but are your eyes without color?” She spat. But she was right. The violet jewels of her eyes were a sign of her lack of devotion to that foul deity. However.
“Then-”
“You will learn in due time.” She knowingly grinned with unbridled smugness. “Now, scurry along, child. Get as much work done as you can before nightfall. We know you humans have hard times traversing the night. So afraid of the dark, you creatures can be.”
For a moment, my mind went blank. My sense of time lapsed and returned to deliver me centimeters away from Eiriol’s brow, sneering through my teeth. “I will see to it that you are destroyed before I meet my end.”
I turned about and left before I attempted to try at that moment. But of course, her mocking voice trailed behind me like spider silk carried by the breeze. “You are welcome to try at any time, child. But your masters will first have to remove the strip of leather you wear like a scarf.”
The leash be damned.
Evil has lingered here for far too long.
It was time it be purged.
***
Doyle Wolfgang.
***
“Oh, Gods. How did it ever come to this?”
With Titus missing, Eiriol turned her snidely remarks and knowing grins to me, the only victim left. “It has always been ‘this,’ dear Doyle, even if you were unaware of the fact. Unless of course, there was never a time you found yourself unafraid of his magic and sorcery?”
“Yeah.” I felt myself distantly sigh. “No matter how much I tried to deny it, I saw it. I mean, he- he killed a fucking unicorn!”
“HE WHAT!?!”
“I... should not have said that.”
“Well, the damage is done.” Eiriol smiled at both the twins and I. More so at Corym, though, even though it was his sister who spoke.
“Do not fret, Wolfgang. If not Amun, Polaris will set its sights on another. Take this one.” Indra motioned to her screen. And reluctantly, I followed to see the small but hulking figure I expected to see. And only then did she continue. “The Bodhi Tree offers no courses for Clerics, Sorcerers, and Warlocks. What would be the child, Zlock’s, reaction to a patron of the God of War roaming the south if Amun were not doing it also? Do you not think he would be wary of him?”
“I’m sure he is already.” I sighed.
“As are you.” She immediately quipped back.
“And for good reason!” I snorted. “Any Warlock to the God of War is troublesome. Doubly so for a Destroyer. Triply so for one who made their pact before evolving. And as far as I understand, you all think Amun is much worse?”
“Potentially.” She coyly shrugged.
“Okay, then let me rephrase my question.” I sighed. “You said change is coming. You think Amun will be the one to bring that change?”
“Oh.” She scoffed in disappointment. “Look around you and ask yourself that very question, child. I know he is the change-bringer. As do you and everyone else. The change is here already. It is only now that the ripples have wafted into your lives that you have taken notice.”
“Well then.” I sighed after a few long moments. “I guess the only question to ask is. What- what is he? Is he even drow?”
“Undoubtedly.” Eiriol proudly stated. A strange occurrence, considering their culture. “His pedigree is of the highest order. And yet still, he is more.”
“What, like some super-elf?”
“Ask him yourself.” Eiriol heartily laughed. “Or, wait until Polaris and the Headmaster forces the so-called Elven Devil to reveal his nature.
“If, that is, he does not decide to do it first.”