“You have all gathered here today to pay homage to the mighty Sovereign of Vorthe!” The First Elder didn’t raise his voice, but all could hear every word he spoke.
Jerome observed the extension of the stage on which the First Elder stood. That extension was never there to begin with, he thought to himself. Come to think of it, the whole stage just appeared out of thin air. Jerome chuckled. He knew it was needless to bother himself with things he didn’t have answers to at the moment. But he was curious nonetheless.
“The Lord of Light,” the First Elder continued.
“Protector…
“Healer…
“Deliverer…
“Father of our land…
“His greatness and power know no bounds!
“I come to you with news that will fill your hearts with hope and your souls with fire! An opportunity… A chance for the glory of Vorthe and its scions!
“But make no mistakes, fellow Vortheans. This is no quest for the faint of heart. It will require our strongest and bravest Sprouts. So, prepare your younglings!”
At this point, all the Elites and High-born in the hall were already salivating. In their little room, looking down at the proceedings, Jerome took a peek at the Patriarch wondering what his reaction would be to such praise. The Sovereign though, looked neither perturbed nor proud. Guess he shouldn’t expect less from someone who’d probably lived for a thousand years.
“Clad them in the finest of armor…” the First Elder continued. “Train them in the ways of combat and strategy. Equip them with the knowledge and skills they need to succeed. That they be able to withstand the treacherous trials of this once-in-a-lifetime adventure!
“Patriarchs… Matriarchs… Lords and Ladies… Let us rally together… Let us join hands and hearts in this great endeavor… We shall make history and seize this opportunity for the greater good of our land…
“In two moons, the gateway to Terra Praeta will once again be opened!”
The older generation of nobles in the hall all gasped loudly, with surprise written on their faces. Some even had their jaws sagging!
“The fabled land of Terra Praeta,” the 1st Elder continued, “Shrouded in mystery and wonder, Terra Praeta is only ever explored once in a thousand years! And now we have the chance to explore it once again. To unravel its mysteries and claim its treasures!”
Those from the younger generation could only infer the magnitude of this adventure from the 1st Elder’s words. They had no idea what Terra Praeta signified, except for those from the Royal Family. The smiles on their faces were all one needed to know that they knew the information beforehand.
“May the light of Vorthe become their strength, and may our youths emerge victorious in this epic journey to Terra Praeta! Let the celebration continue!” the First Elder announced.
~~~
Nolan Alvric
The opulent banquet hall was abuzz with the clamor of nobles engaged in animated discussions about the forthcoming event. As the First Elder descended the stage, the Heads of the Great Houses swarmed around him like bees to a hive.
Nolan Alvric came out of his musings long enough to join the other Heads of the Great Clans. He had to give it to the Royals. This adventure was timely, and it would help his clan obtain treasures they could only dream of. But what to do about the men he was smuggling down from the South?
That would require all the stealth in the world, he thought. Even if the Sovereign was too busy to care, the 1st Elder would sense them long before they got near Farryn.
“Our deepest gratitude, Elder Thorlin, for the generous gift the Royal family has bestowed upon us,” Fei Jia, the Archlady of the Eastern Territory, was the first to speak, her voice laced with deference and gratitude.
The First Elder, Thorlin Vorthe, acknowledged her words with a nod of his head. “It is as the Sovereign wishes,” he said, his voice carrying with it, a sense of gravitas. “I am but a bearer of good news.”
“And the bearer is as honored in our eyes as is the Sovereign,” Arwen Itakar said as she curtsied in respect.
“It is so, Elder Thorlin,” Nolan Alvric chipped in. “The opportunity which Vorthe has provided our progeny is a wondrous blessing that shall forever be cherished and held in the highest of regard.”
Nolan Alvric took another glance at the 1st Elder of the Royal family, Thorlin Vorthe. May Noir’s Black Flame consume you for being so young and powerful! He cursed angrily in his heart. May the souls of the Forgotten hunt you down and drag you into the depths of the Southern Sea for putting a dent in my plans!
“...And may your benevolence be rewarded greatly,” a sweet sounding voice spoke up and a beautiful woman wrapped her arms around Thorlin Vorthe’s arm with a smile. Thorlin’s face lit up as he reached out to give her a kiss.
Nolan couldn’t wrap his head around how Vorthe had a Saint that was so young and strong. This was going to be a huge setback to his plans and his clan as a whole.
~~~
“Did I tell you about House Alvric?” the Sovereign asked.
“No, Sovereign,” Jerome replied, his curiosity piqued. He had wondered why the Sovereign didn’t talk about the Alvrics. He even thought he was avoiding it. But that wouldn’t make any sense. The Sovereign was, after all, the most powerful man in Vorthe, who could stop him from saying whatever he wanted to?
“House Alvric is the oldest in these lands,” the Sovereign said, “They existed seventeen generations before the first Vorthe ever was born. The Cataclysm was what skewed the power balance. And that was seventy thousand years ago!”
Jerome was awestruck. He had read tales of House Alvric, but he had never imagined that they had such a long history.
“Alvrics cultivate wind attribute essence,” the Sovereign went on. “They excel in refining flight artifacts we call Sails, among other wind-attributed artifacts.”
Jerome’s mind raced as he tried to imagine the incredible feats that the members of House Alvric must have accomplished. “That’s incredible,” he said. He couldn’t help but be impressed, even though he hated Hedon’s guts.
“Well, when you are being chased by a flying Alvric it would not be incredible anymore,” the Sovereign chuckled, interrupting Jerome’s thoughts.
A Sprout from a Great Family who cultivated wind essence would definitely have a flight-type artifact on him, Jerome thought. And most likely one of the best at that, seeing that Hedon was the heir to his clan. It could become a bit of a problem for his goal. If Hedon ran, he might not be able to catch him. But it also depended on how fast his artifact would be.
The Sovereign stood up suddenly, as if ready to call it a night, Jerome knew that the Royal Banquet was almost over. But he was determined to stay until the end, to soak in every last bit of the knowledge and wisdom that surrounded him. But the Sovereign disappeared on the spot, stunning him to his core!
“Is this how Rihal does it?” he muttered to himself.
The next thing he knew though, the Sovereign, who had just vanished from beside him appeared on the stage. However, he was clad in golden light from head to toe. Only the highlight of his silhouette could be seen.
He appeared majestically with his hair — which had turned gold — and robes flailing around even though there was no wind!
The crowded hall of people quieted down and they all started going down on one knee. The atmosphere at that moment changed and the air was filled with an ancient and timeless aura, as though a god had walked into the hall! Jerome could not feel the aura inside the hall, however. He could only see and hear to infer what the situation was. But he had felt enough of it to know what it would feel like inside the hall.
“When will I wield such power?” he muttered to himself. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, clenching and unclenching his fists. “I will become this powerful…and nothing’s gonna stop me. Nothing!”
~~~
Fei Lin
“This…this is the power of a god!” Fei Lin, daughter of the Matriarch of the Fei clan, exclaimed silently to herself. She dared not look up in her position kneeling on the tiled floor. The aura she felt filled her with reverence and she fought the urge to kowtow to the Sovereign of Vorthe.
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When will I wield such power? Fei Lin thought to herself. She gritted her teeth and with determination in her eyes, she vowed herself.
I will become this powerful…for my family, for our honor! She exclaimed to herself with clenched fists, looking in the direction of her kneeling mother. “I’ll prove you wrong!”
~~~
Hedon Alvric
What a fallacy! Vorthe cannot be more powerful than Alvric! Hedon Alvric exclaimed inwardly. His eyes filled with contempt and determination. I’ll show them who’s more powerful. I’ll use the platform you provide as a stepping stone to overthrow you!’ He thought to himself, even as he fought to get rid of the invisible weight in the air that seemed to want to invade his bones.
Hedon looked in the direction of his father and clenched his fists. “Watch and see…you, watch and see.”
~~~
Ajax Itakar
Ajax wanted to take a peek at the Sovereign of Vorthe. He had heard many stories about the might of the Transcendent before him.
The north was once crawling with magical beasts, the likes of which the world had never seen before. The first Vorthe was the one who subdued them.
“He saved us from extinction,” he had heard his father say once. But now that he had a chance to see the Sovereign, he couldn’t even raise his head. All because of his twin sister, Selene.
Selene was only older by a few breaths of time, but she was far stronger than he was. She was a better archer than he was, a better tracker than he was, and far more resilient in the snow-laden north. And it pisses him off! More than he liked to admit, but what could he do? Right now, his sister was holding his head down to stop him from taking a peek and dishonoring their clan. Very honorable, but…
All the more reason to do it, he mocked her in his head.
He kept trying but failed to raise his head. Selene quickly gave him a look that said, ‘Keep doing that and I’ll kick you in the nuts.’
Hmph! One day I’ll be stronger than you, he grumbled in his heart, then we’ll see who gets the last laugh.
~~~
“As the mountains are sturdy and everlasting, so shall your clans be,” the Sovereign of Vorthe decreed.
“Is he praying?” Jerome asked no one in particular. “Huh!” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing!
“This adventure for the young scions of Vorthe shall be a springboard for their future strength,” Yun Vorthe continued. “In time, they will look back upon this day as a memorial of their path to power, their path to the top.”
“Be well…and prosper!”
Immediately, the blazing gold-colored light pouring out of the Sovereign intensified and bathed everyone in the hall. It brought a certain calm and peace to his soul. Jerome had never experienced such a thing before and had nothing to compare it with. All he could say was that it was… weirdly comforting.
Jerome exited the manor after the banquet. He looked upwards to see bright colors light up the sky in a splendid display of fireworks.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Rihal said, having arrived by his side a while ago.
Jerome hummed his acknowledgment, the sight of fireworks holding his gaze in awe. The Royal Banquet signaled the start of a new year in the Vorthean calendar — the year 70,050 post-cataclysm.
“We Vorthes don’t believe in gods — not that they don’t exist,” Rihal stated, looking at the fireworks, “but we do believe in destiny…fate…the power of the tongue.”
Jerome glanced at him, his interest and curiosity piqued.
“On occasions like these, we say, ‘May the heavens gift you a hundred years’ worth of fortune this one year.’”
“That’s beautiful,” Jerome smiled. It sounded like the Sovereign’s words during the banquet. “May the heavens gift you a hundred years’ worth of fortune this one year, Rihal,” Jerome said to Rihal, looking appreciatively at him. “I know I don’t say this very often, if at all, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
Rihal scoffed. “What, the new year made you all soft and mushy inside?” But Jerome could tell his master was pleased with his words.
Jerome smiled shyly, but quickly remarked, “So, you’re not going to appreciate my appreciation?”
“Call me Uncle Rihal and just maybe I will,” Rihal demanded, smiling from ear to ear as they walked farther away from the manor.
Jerome contemplated doing it — for all of three breaths. “Nah,” he said, “I won’t give you the satisfaction.”
Rihal cursed at him. “Then what was that little moment of contemplation for?” he asked. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know?” He put his arm around Jerome’s shoulders and squeezed hard. He rubbed at Jerome’s hair, messing it up real good. Jerome tried to free himself to no avail, giving Rihal a good laugh at his efforts.
They decided to take a leisurely stroll around the Royal Estate, marveling at the sights around them. Jerome felt like he had stepped into a painting or another world, untainted by imperfections. The moon cast a luminous glow on the white stone castles, and the sound of flowing water from a nearby brook reached his ears. The paved streets were flanked by cherry trees whose blossoms shone in the moonlight.
“Come with me,” Rihal said, walking him up to his home. “I’ve never shown you my place before, have I?” he said as they walked side by side.
Jerome had learned early on that Rihal didn’t live in Kilian’s Palace, but he always kept that to himself. Jerome knew that if he asked, he’d probably get nothing out of his master.
“So, you wanna show me your home now, don’t you think you waited too long?” Jerome said with pretend hurt. He was kind of excited at the prospect of seeing Rihal’s home, though.
Rihal smiled at that. “My home is my safe space. A space away from the missions and training. A space away from the bustle of the estate and the outside world. Why should I let anyone in?”
He had a point there.
Like the other manor houses in the Royal Estate, Rihal’s was also painted white and stood magnificently on the side of the road. They were in a street lined with beautiful manors and Jerome wondered if the Royals were allergic to simple houses.
Each house stood in the center of a few hectares of greenery. Jerome could tell this was a street because his eyes were a lot better than that of a human — and they walked in on a paved road, which was a stark difference from the stone-cobbled streets of Farryn.
The courtyard around the manor was exquisite and surreal in the faint glow of the moonlit night. Jerome looked around appreciatively, nodding his head. Just then another round of fireworks exploded in the sky brightening the night in myriads of colors.
“Come on in,” Rihal said as he opened the double doors to the foyer.
“You know, you see a lot of beautiful manors like this and soon, you start to lose appreciation for them,” Jerome said as he walked in.
“Should we head back and train for the rest of the night?” Rihal asked, giving him a pointed look. The kid just loved to run his mouth whenever he was in a good mood.
“Oh, no. I’m good,” he said, raising his hands. He toured Rihal’s home and found it to be quite comfy, unlike the hustle and bustle of Kilian’s Palace, and the servants, and guards everywhere.
“Kilian’s Palace, being the first one encounters upon stepping into the Estate, is like a reception of sorts. It has to be big and beautiful… and busy,” Rihal explained when they settled down on a terrace on the 2nd floor.
Jerome heard the distant rumble of carriages carrying the Elite guests from the banquet back to their homes to prepare their Sprouts for Terra Praeta. He also needed to make preparations. Even though he had miraculously healed his injuries — which had taken a lot of effort — he couldn’t rest, not when there was much to do.
“I think I know why I couldn’t use my mental energy as quickly as you did,” Jerome started. He hadn’t had time to gather his thoughts so he could ask the questions he wanted to ask, but he could start somewhere. The Sovereign had pointed out that his mind-calming stone was a peculiar, yet powerful artifact. He‘d be damned if he gave too much information away about it, even to Rihal.
“And why is that?” Rihal asked, curious about what his disciple must have learned from the Sovereign—something most people could only hope for, yet dreaded.
“There is a barrier in my mind—”
“A very weak barrier,” Rihal interrupted, “One that shouldn’t be strong enough to prevent you from extending your perception.”
“You never told me about the barrier, though,” Jerome rebutted.
“Because there was never a need to.”
“What if something made it strong enough?”
Rihal paused, observing him for a moment. “You’re insinuating that your strange stone — the one you said got shattered — strengthened your mental barrier?” Rihal ended his statement as a question and nodded contemplatively. This was something even the Sovereign could not comprehend. And Jerome wouldn’t bring this up if he didn’t have something in mind.
“Yeah, and I also think I’ve figured out a way to mask my essence as you do,” Jerome said, smirking at Rihal.
“So you want to mask your essence like an assassin does,” Rihal replied. He chuckled lightly at that, “Why bring this up now?”
“I believe it’s gonna be very useful to me going forward,” Jerome said.
“Good luck to you then,” Rihal replied with a smirk of his own. “You might be onto something, but it’s not what would give you the result you want.”
“What do you mean?” Jerome asked. If he wasn’t on the right track, it would be a waste of time.
“The mental barrier in your mind is a natural one — one you developed upon advancing to Sprout. And it’ll keep getting stronger the more you advance,” Rihal said relaxing in his chair. “What it’s not going to do, however, is help you mask your core. And you can’t replicate it… because it is natural.” He gestured with his hands to say, ‘That’s just the way things are’.
Jerome kept quiet, contemplating Rihal’s words.
“But we shouldn’t go off track in your training,” Rihal continued. “You can’t juggle too many things together while training. You must perfect one before another — like your blue flames. You’ve been ‘spewing’ flames, and now it’s time you learned how to ‘shoot’ flames.”
“Ah!” Jerome exclaimed. “Maybe we should try somewhere else, anywhere else but Kilian’s training hall.”
Rihal chuckled. The last time Jerome trained with his blue flame, he had to clean up the whole place from top to bottom. He didn’t want a repeat of that.
“You don’t have to worry, I got us somewhere new to train,” Rihal said.
They spent some more time discussing what Jerome learned from the Sovereign. Though he omitted discussions that had to do with his reincarnation and becoming one with the earth. After a long while, they both called it a night and Jerome walked back to Kilian’s Palace alone.
As he continued his walk, Jerome thought back to the words of the Sovereign right before he left the manor.
“You’re the first Fated Dark One to figure out who and what you are. But you’re also the first to suppress the beast. So, I’m putting my faith in you. In hopes that you’ll continue to suppress the beast, and maybe one day, quiet it completely. After knowing what you know, I could have decided to end you…but I did not...Do not fail me.
“And just so you know, you’re not the only creature of darkness out in the world, Jerome. And Vorthe isn’t the only wielder of light.”
Jerome felt bitter at some of those words, but he was determined to live life on his own terms. He didn’t ask to be the Dark One — but he also didn’t ask to be given a second chance at life. And for that, he wouldn’t let the Beast control him, to ruin his second chance at life. He’d be figuring out who else wielded darkness and light later on. For now, he had to go train.
He increased his pace back to Kilian’s Palace to go resume his training.