The Mining City of Tormar, East Central Vorthe, 400 years ago.
“When is it expected to arrive?”
“A fourth of a fourth’s time, Governor,” the scout said.
“Blasted! Close the gates and sound the bells. Guards on the walls! Berma! Where’s Berma?!” the Governor roared. They were under siege, not by an army, but by a single foe. A monster of terrifying power.
“This is a mining city, damn it!” Governor Duran Vorthe roared.
“You called, Governor!” Berma arrived bowing deeply with a fist to his chest.
“Quickly, take this to Farryn. You need only crush it when you’re about a thousand paces away from the city.”
Berma looked at the object the Governor pushed into his hand. It was a round black tablet made of unknown material. He quickly placed it in his storage ring and ran off.
The city bells rang at that moment. Duran could hear the inhabitants of Tormar from miles away close-up shop, many scurrying into their homes.
“Ah,” he sighed, the communications rune grafted into the skin of his upper arm glowed as he quickly sent a message to his personal guard. Duran quickly reached his wardrobe and opened a secret compartment. A golden glint reflected on the walls of the wardrobe to reveal a suit of armor in pristine condition. He had never worn this armor in his life. He had never had a reason to, but now…
“It’s reached the north wall, governor,” a soft voice reached him from behind the dark red blinds of his floor-to-ceiling window.
“Get my son out of here,” Duran said as he donned his heavy breastplate.
“...”
“You are duty-bound to do as I bid, Milena,” he said a little forcefully. Milena was his guard, sworn to protect him and do his bidding. She wouldn’t go against his words, not if she valued her reputation.
“...Yes, governor. May the heavens grant your soul safe passage to Valhalla’s gate, and may the stars be there to guide you yonder.”
There was that Diviner faith. Again. “We Vorthes do not care for gods and their petty reign,” Duran spat. His forefathers had fought against gods. They were petty and arrogant, uncaring except for their own end.
Milena vanished with no trace of ever being there.
“Godspeed, Milena,” Duran muttered. It wasn’t his choice to be hard on her. But his son was all that mattered to him now. The Dark One was here and there was no stopping him.
A battle raged on the outskirts of the city. The ground quaked as parts of the city wall came crumbling down. In no time, the enemy broke through the city’s defenses, and darkness deeper than the night spread out, paralyzing everyone around.
“Cease!” Duran roared as he shot forward in flight. He saw the carnage wrought by the monster and his anger was kindled.
Clad in golden armor, and brandishing a golden sword, he slashed at the fiend, creating a giant sword wave of golden light that pushed through the darkness in the direction of the monster.
The monster growled. With a swipe of its clawed hand, it commanded the darkness and destroyed the sword wave causing a shockwave to spread throughout the city. Houses crumbled in the distance and many of the inhabitants of the city died in droves. Many burst into blood and pulp as the shockwave spread throughout the city.
Duran scanned the city with his perception, taking note of the damage and he cursed under his breath. The monster extended the darkness towards Duran like the gnarled hand of a crone.
“Do not get too close,” deputy governor Gardis Vorthe spoke as he slashed with his sword, destroying the tendrils of darkness reaching for Duran. “It is powerful beyond its Realm.”
They both hovered mid-air out of range of the monster as the darkness encroached upon them. Golden scripts of ancient origins hovered around them like a second layer of protection as they circled around the creature to attack from its blind spots. They danced around brandishing their swords covered in golden light.
Governor Duran tried to wield the essence in the air to his advantage but to no avail.
“Stop, Duran,” Gardis cautioned. “The essence in the air has already been corrupted by its dark essence.”
Duran cursed. He wasn’t as experienced in wielding essence as Gardis. In fact, Gardis was the real muscle here, he was only an experienced miner who had gathered journeymen to work for him. If he had known such a thing would have happened, he would have requested Farryn to mobilize more advanced sacred artists.
They both moved at lightning speeds, creating sonic booms in the air as they danced around the monster. With the swipe of a clawed hand, the creature destroyed three buildings, gathering the debris in the air with the darkness and knocking Duran out of the sky.
“Blasted!” he roared as he was knocked into a few more buildings. A wall of darkness appeared in front of Duran and he quickly halted mid-air. Blazing light wrapped around him to prevent the darkness from infecting him.
“Careful,” Gardis said.
The creature had broken their rhythm, going for the weaker of the two Sages. It shot towards Duran at high speeds, aiming to take him down. Gardis raced after it, severing tendrils of darkness and pushing back mental attacks. “Hold on, Duran!”
Duran Vorthe was not a warrior, at least not in the same capacity as Gardis. Duran continued destroying tendrils of darkness that were crippling his ability to sense or ‘see’ his foe.
Unbeknownst to him, the fiend had gotten behind him. The monster attacked but Gardis’ sword pierced through the darkness. The darkness collapsed in on itself as the golden light from the sword pushed it back. Gardis stabbed through its jaw. The monster screamed and went wild. It brandished the darkness like myriads of blades piercing through them both.
~~~
Duten Vorthe struggled at the hands of his father’s bodyguard as she dragged him away from the destruction in Tormar. Milena was a Spirit Realm expert and was far stronger than he was. A few of the members of his House fled but the rest of the city was immediately covered by darkness so deep, it swallowed even light around it.
‘What could be so evil as to destroy a whole city?’ He thought in tears. His city was gone, and his father died protecting it. This was a great humiliation of their House. What would others say? How would he be viewed in the eyes of the other Royals? The boy who ran away from a monster?
~~~
The Royal Estate in Farryn, Central Capital of Vorthe. Present Day.
I could just snap him in two right now and be done with it, Elder Duten Vorthe thought to himself in anger. The brat in front of him was so small, with thin limbs and a beautiful face. One could mistake him for a girl. Who would ever know that such an innocent-looking child would grow up to become an abomination?
Even now he could see the seed of darkness swirling at the center of the child’s core — tiny and unprovoking. That is until the mountains call to him. At least then they could get rid of the insect before his madness takes over completely. There was enough to deal with in Vorthe as it were. The Royal Family didn’t have the luxury to add a mentally ill disciple to it. And this mental illness wasn’t one they could put aside.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Duten held back his tongue to stop himself from saying something he would regret. The child is never to know or suspect what he is, or what he was to become. The laws set by the ‘Curia Regis’ about the Dark One and his awakening were without parallels. Anyone who breaks them would face the wrath of the Sovereign. For they could bring down all that Vorthe had worked to establish throughout history.
“Rise,” Duten commanded in a deep voice. He looked the kid in the eyes for a few breaths more before leading him into a room with a large round table where he stood and asked Jerome for the Core of the Sunfire Wolf.
Elder Duten Vorthe was the Head Alchemist of the Royal family and a grandmaster of the Alchemic Path. He was a tall broad-chested man with a clean-shaven handsome face that made him look to be in his mid-thirties. But he always looked like he was spoiling for a fight.
Duten had heard that the fated Dark One had killed a Sunfire Wolf and quickly requested to meet with him. Every Elder of the royal family in addition to a few other vital members of the family was in the know as to Jerome’s true identity. They didn’t like it, but they could do nothing about it.
~~~
Jerome was confused and a bit upset. He’d never met this Elder before, so why was he angry at him? Did he lose a child in Pilgrims’ Keep? Jerome thought. And what’s with his eyes?
The Elder’s eyes were like Rihal’s, except for the color, a deep unnatural purple with archaic runes etched into them. The ‘Ajanai’. Jerome had come to know that it wasn’t just runes but ‘Runework’: a network of ancient runes of power that give the wielder abilities. Rihal had declared him ready to learn this when he returned to the keep. But the Elder’s eyes didn’t give him the same feeling Rihal’s did.
Is it something one develops at a certain Realm? Jerome thought to himself. The Elder’s pupils returned to their normal black color, and he walked in as if nothing had happened out of the ordinary, which left Jerome even more confused. Rihal’s eyes never went back to normal, he thought.
Throughout their journey to the Keep and back. It wasn’t until they were at the edge of the Royal Estate that Rihal put on the band to cover his eyes and took out his walking stick.
Which means something’s wrong with Rihal’s eyes, Jerome concluded. He went in after the Elder and followed him to a large circular table.
“Hand over the core,” Elder Duten ordered and Jerome was taken aback.
“Elder I was told that my spoils during Pilgrims’ Keep are mine to do with as I pleased so...” Jerome tried to explain without sounding disrespectful or angry. Is this Elder trying to steal from me? he thought. How shameful!
Elder Duten didn’t listen to him. He held his hand out and Jerome’s pouch floated to his outstretched hand. Then he took out the Sunfire Wolf’s core, examined it, and put it in his storage ring. All the while Jerome tried to reign in his anger. He never knew sacred artists could do that. But being able to do so, didn’t mean it was right. Especially someone as esteemed as an Elder.
So an Elder could just walk up to people and levitate their stuff out of their belts? Jerome shook as he clenched his fists and teeth. And Vorthe talked about respect when they weren’t reciprocating it. He nearly hissed to show his displeasure but held himself back. There were some deeds one couldn’t undo after they were done. No amount of pleas would pacify an Elder if they were insulted by a mere disciple.
Elder Duten waved his hand and two pouches dropped in front of Jerome. “You may leave,” he commanded.
Jerome picked up both pouches and put them away. “Thank you for your generosity, Elder,” he said and walked out while burning with rage. Not only couldn’t he complain about the injustice, but he had to also thank the motherfucker for being ‘generous’?
Jerome examined both pouches the moment he was out of the Elders chambers. One of the pouches was his with everything intact in it. The other was filled with high-grade crystal coins. So many that he had never seen before.
He knew what they were because of the aura they emitted. They were pure in essence. The only other comparison he could make was the mid-grade crystal stone he saw and sensed when Rihal threw it to the disciple at the entrance of the estate. That was a year ago, after Mehn Agrh’ur.
When Jerome got to the Artificer, Grandmaster Fesir Vorthe, the same process was repeated. He ‘unwillingly’ handed over his storage bag for inspection. When he got back to his room in Kilian’s Palace he was fuming with rage. He quickly took out the mind-calming stone and started to meditate.
This was his first encounter with such important figures in the Royal family and it was regrettable.
Jerome meditated until his anger ebbed. Then he brought out the pouches filled with coins to have a better look. Surprisingly, they were both storage bags and were filled to the brim with high-grade crystal coins.
Pulling a few of the highs out, Jerome laid them in front of him on his bed to examine them. The sparkling sky-blue, gem-like coins were aesthetically pleasing and cut with more precision, that he would have sworn they were processed on a production line.
At the center of each coin was a faintly glowing rune on each side of the coin, carved with a golden substance that looked like liquid light. It was mesmerizing to look at. Their flat edges also had the runes scribbled around them.
Jerome could tell that the different runes weren’t isolated on the surface of the coin — even though his eyes told him they were — but were connected together for a specific purpose. Together they formed an Ajanai. He wouldn’t have known this if Rihal hadn’t educated him about the Ajanai.
“So this is a high-grade coin,” he muttered to himself.
“And you’d be wise to keep it to yourself.” Rihal’s voice reached him from behind his door on the outside of his room.
Jerome looked up from the coin. “The door isn’t locked,” he said.
Rihal walked in and closed the door. “I’ve never known a single disciple that earned highs after their first adventure. You keep surprising me, Jerome.”
Jerome grinned but quickly turned serious. “Rihal, you said the Ajanai wasn’t just runes but runework.” He changed the topic of discourse.
“A network of runes that give its wielder abilities, yes.” Rihal nodded.
“Well, is it safe to say that it’s used on other objects like the coin?” He held up a glittering coin to show Rihal the rune.
Rihal threw him a mid as he sat on the table. “Yes, it is. The Ajanai are used for a lot of things. Many of which I’m not authorized to discuss with you.” he gave Jerome a look but Jerome just shrugged, inspecting the mid as he did the high. “For our currency, it’s both a trademark and for preserving the essence in the coin.
“Crystal stones are mined and minted into coins, but they can’t remain so for long in the open air. They’ll dissipate with time, their essence becoming a part of the ambient essence of the ether. The Ajanai is used to keep that from happening.”
“That’s pretty neat. So crystal stones can’t preserve their essence themselves?”
“No. It’s their nature to sublime. Keep the highs a secret and out of sight though. Money can be tempting, even for the strong-willed.” He stood up to go. “When will you be going to the orphanage?”
“Tomorrow. Gotta prepare some gifts for the children and the caretakers first.” Jerome grinned.
“Get a maid to assist you then,” Rihal said before walking to the door.
“Wait, how many lows equal a mid, and how many mids equal a high.”
Rihal turned back to answer. “Didn’t tell you that before, did I?”
“No, you didn’t,” Jerome said, almost accusatorily.
Rihal just shrugged. “A hundred lows make one mid and a hundred mids make one high.”
~~~
“How may I be of help to you, young disciple?” The maid asked.
“Call me Jerome. What’s your name?” Jerome asked.
She looked surprised by the question but answered, nonetheless. “I don’t have one.”
He expected that, and he would have loved to call her something, only, he didn’t know what toll it’d take on him. “What are you called then?” he asked.
“The maids in the Palace are numbered. I’m number seventeen,” she said.
How sad, Jerome thought. He also observed that she didn’t make eye contact when speaking. “Very well. I need everything on this list as soon as possible,” he said, handing her a sheet of paper with a list of items. “And if it’s possible to get more storage bags, do it.”
“Pardon, disciple Jerome, but storage bags have to be requested personally. Please forgive my curtness,” seventeen said, bowing slightly.
“No worries,” Jerome replied and waved her off. Disciple Jerome, huh? It didn’t matter that her foundation was more advanced than his own, she still addressed him with respect, even going as far as bowing lightly. That was an uncomfortable conversation to have so he didn’t bother asking her why she addressed him the way she did.
Jerome had felt the weight of her presence the moment she came into his room. She was Sprout. And a powerful one too, he felt. All the more reason why he was impressed with her level of respect and discipline.
After seventeen left, Jerome went in search of Kilian. He walked towards the stairs leading to the upper floors while listening to the flurry of activities around him. It had been a year since he left, and he missed his friends and siblings. He wondered if Doti, Dreamer, and Whistle would have visited the orphanage. This would be a good time to find out how they were doing as well.
Ash would be twelve this year, he thought. The baby girl who was found at the doors of the orphanage covered in ash, who used to cry herself to sleep because of hunger would shed her mortality this year. He smiled to himself as he recalled their faces, including the ones that had no names at all. These kids were family to him.
It seems the Palace is a lot more active today than usual. Is there a guest coming in? he mused. People were moving things here and there. Some people were re-coating a wall that had lost its color, and there were a few more walls like that around the Palace. Jerome avoided the throng of people moving through the corridors as he headed toward Kilian’s study. He shut out the cacophony of voices only to hear something that surprised him.
“...but he’s only thirteen!”