The man took in a simple breath to calm his aching nerves, an experienced action contradictory to his situation.  Anybody else would have panicked and fallen to nothing short of death.  

He donned an expensive white and golden knight suit which had known better days.  Years of dents and scratches covered a previous luster seen on the armor of younger men.  Additionally, the runes he personally inscribed into his breastplate flickered with the face of a scowling owl, a signia for a clansman.

Vast rolling waves of mana crashed out, violent as a hurricane and layered in pressure.  A man of wisdom out of his depth as chunks of his skin peeled off at a visible rate, each bigger than the last.  If somebody had just arrived at the scene, they would never have guessed the worn down man to be a battle hardened mage that slaughtered his way to power. 

The mage staggered up a nearby hill and propped himself upon an overgrown tree.  While his own mana reserves pushed back the sweeping tide, he collected a sliver of mana to reinforce his eyes, scanning for the source.

A youth covered in rags radiated the devastating aura, the unconscious body in the corner of a mid sized town.  Despite the clearly tranquil face, thick swirling mana swaths manifested from the teenager in pulses, a maw that swallowed everything in its wake.  

The humble town previously housed two-thousand hardworking souls, sounded eerily silent, forcing a deep seated chill to run through the mage.  While attempting to piece together what happened, the mage withered with each passing moment. Frustration and anger seeped through the white mask that covered the man's pale face.  Slowly backing away, he branded the memory of his stupid mistake deep within the recesses of his mind.  A mistake he vowed never to forget or repeat.

0---0

"Mithros, I demand an explanation."

Avoiding the death glare, Mithros slowly turned to face the current reigning emperor, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.  Before he could figure out what to say, his brain started to kick into overdrive, forcing him to panic and stumble for words.

"I..I... "

"You what?"

"I'm sorry Imperial Majesty."

A sharp jarring pain struck Mithros, but he dared not utter a cry.  The man in front of him was not one known to show sympathy or much of any emotion for that matter.  Looking down, six-inches of Korlann steel dagger was embedded in his abdomen, a wound sure to fester if left alone.  Falling to his knees, he grimaced in pain, taking a soft slow breath to organize his thoughts. 

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"We were robbed Imperial Majesty," Mithros said, clutching his fists.

"Robbed?" the Emperor questioned, raising a single eyebrow.

"Avarum, Kathid, and I were escorting the artifact back to you Imperial Majesty."

"Are you telling me three Archmages were beaten in combat?"

Slamming his forehead into the cold marbel floor, Mithros spat out, "No Imperial Majesty, it was stolen by a young man."

"A young man?"

"We were on guard against enemy knights and cullthors, but I would never have guessed a commoner youth I had previously bumped into may have snatched the pouch containing the artifact."

"So you were bested by a pickpocket brat?"

Mirthos contemplated continuing—death was surely fact in the light of his failure.

"Yes, Imperial Majesty."

"Continue," The Emperor's voice thundered throughout the grand hall.

"At first, we left the town without realizing the artifact was stolen.  That was until there was an explosion of mana. I quickly put up my defenses only to see Avrum and Kathid were not fast enough;  they were blasted into oblivion by pure mana. Nothing of them remains, Imperial Majesty."

"I see..." 

The Emperor paced before his high throne, his footsteps reverberating throughout the massive room.  Probably thinking of all possibilities, the Emperor studied Mithros for any hints of deception, which most likely included betrayal.

"Everybody in the town was vaporized.  It remains a ghost town besides the kid.  He continues to emit unnatural levels of mana.  I think he has possibly fused with or ingested the artifact."

"He ate it?  You can eat it?"  The Emperor eyes opened ever so slightly, as if more amused than shocked.

The mysterious artifact was written in royal historical records several times, everytime during events where the plane itself almost shattered.  However, being eaten was never a way described to use the object. An item of such power was presumed to surely destroy whomever was dumb enough to swallow it.

"That is my assumption Imperial Majesty."

The Emperor adjusted his robes and sat upon the towering throne, looking down on the mage as if he were nothing but a tool to command, something Mirthros was used to.

"Take a contingent of soldiers from sixth imperial battalion along with two of my royal guard.  Lock down the area. If the town becomes approachable, find the young man and bring him directly to me."

Through the many years of working for the Emperor, the thought process of the man before him was all to clear.  Making a move personally as Emperor would alert the surrounding nations. His imperial majesty must rely on his subjects to retrieve the artifact discreetly or risk telegraphing his intentions.

"Yes Imperial Majesty."

Mithros, having received his orders, was silently stunned at the fact that his head was still attached.  He quickly turned to leave the grand hall and started scurrying off before the Emperor had a change of heart.

"... and Mithros. "

The mage cringed at the sound of his name but turned his head back in a bow.

"Fail me again and I will rip out your soul for the deeplars to consume."

Mithros shuddered and nodded.  300 years of service to the Emperor and he was still just a disposable pawn.