1

“Give us the Wellspring!” Shouted a large man through the bars of an even larger gate which marked the only public entrance to Albrine Manor.

He was one of many people of varying sizes, shapes and dispositions. Some stood back, idly watching others make a fuss but not bothering to add to the ruckus. Others banged weapons on the gate and shouted obscene remarks to the lone occupant of the courtyard on the other side of the gate.

Many tried to climb the gate to take the grounds by force, but the bars rose several feet above the heads of the tallest men, and furthermore, the bars seemed to be greased with some sort of lubricant which prevented any from making it close to the top. And that was before mentioning the strategic metal spikes arranged in a jagged network along the top of the gate. The overall atmosphere of the manor was one of intimidation rather than welcome.

The subject of everyone’s anger was a man of average height, who appeared to be on the early side of his thirties. His brown eyes glinted as though he found the entire scene amusing rather than threatening. He had short brown hair which looked meticulously messy, as though he had seen himself in a mirror and hadn’t been satisfied until he made every strand of hair stand at an odd angle.

He wore all black; a long, loosely fit cloak that lazily covered him from shoulder to knee, tight fitting black material underneath which did wonders to show off his highly muscled form, and fingerless black gloves upon his hands.

The knuckles of each hand were studded, which gave others the impression that he spent a fair amount of time hitting things. On his feet were an extremely odd pair of black boots. They looked to be made of some foreign material instead of leather.

His cloak had various pockets of differing sizes, as well as several odd straps and loops at seemingly random intervals. Some pockets seemed to be vacant, while others were visibly occupied. On his back was a symbol of some sort, but there were none who knew what it signified.

The man also had visibly white teeth which had a stark contrast to his attire. He seemed to take extra care to clean his teeth. Teeth that white were a clear symbol of not only wealth but determination.

Most people had trouble finding food, let alone coming up with the money for the kingdom’s expensive hygienic products. Most people couldn’t even afford any but the cheapest of bath soaps. But for this man to have such white teeth meant he had vast wealth indeed.

Many considered tooth polish to be a nonessential item. Even when they had the money, few bothered. But this man obviously cared deeply for his teeth.

But out of his whole appearance, the bit that caught everyone’s eye most was the ridiculous presence of a wooden training sword. The man held it with his left hand and had it propped over his shoulder. It was about three feet in length, with the handle adding another foot or so.

Strangely, the hilt itself seemed to be made of some rare and valuable material, though why it was fashioned to what basically amounted to a stick, no one could say. It had a clear jewel in the pommel, which seemed to shine at random intervals as light touched it in different ways.

The man sat lazily upon an old well, leaning his back against a support post. He smiled at the giant mob of people from various reaches of the surrounding areas. They had all come for nothing.

“Give us the Wellspring!” The burly man shouted again.

Others voiced their agreement of the command. They appeared really wound up, but all their efforts amounted to little more than a group of children throwing a tantrum. It was clear they had no plans to storm the grounds, or if they did, it wouldn’t be until their mouths grew tired.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” the man said shamefully.

His voice was youthful. It sounded at once arrogant but also filled with undertones of sorrow. Contrarily, his statement was one of unbothered superiority.

“Cut the crap! We all know that this manor sits on a massive Wellspring. It hasn’t erupted for several years, and now it is showing signs. You couldn’t contain everything yourself anyway so just let us in!” The aggravated member of the mob spoke as though his teeth were stuck together.

“Those things are true, yes. However, I’m afraid you misunderstand the issue. I have no plans to withhold any nutrients this Wellspring may provide. You may join me here on the day of the eruption. But I fear you will all be sorely disappointed.

“Blessed are not chosen based on how badly they want it to be so. Only a small number of you will gain anything. Do not blame me if you are not chosen.”

“You’re just making excuses not to let us in!” Someone shouted, which ignited a roar of agreement among the mob.

“I’ve already said you can all come in, but you’ll have to come back on the day of the eruption to see the truth for yourselves,” the man said. He then went on to say, “But be warned: I will tolerate no violence on my grounds. There will be no fighting for the scraps of power when the Wellspring erupts! I will punish any who seek to harm another for selfish gain within my walls!”

“What day will the Wellspring erupt then? Don’t think we won’t be back!” The burly man who originally incited the conversation proclaimed.

“If my estimations are correct, the eruption will occur in four days. Please come back on the afternoon of the fourth day. The gates will be opened no sooner. Of course, you’re welcome to sit right where you are and wait. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go take a nap.” Without another glance at the assembly, the man hopped off his perch on the well and began walking through the courtyard, towards the massive manor on the other end.

Some of the people outside the gate protested and tried to get him to return, but he pretended he was alone and continued forward, the shouts and threats only ceased several minutes after the large ornate front door swung shut between the two parties. Still, some people refused to leave, but the man was earnest in his claims. He didn’t return to answer their shouts or pleas for the entirety of the four days.

2

On the fourth day, as many people crowded the gate to the courtyard, the man finally emerged from his massive home. He looked like he had just woken up from an abnormally heavy sleep. His eyes were crusted over, and he walked like he wasn’t fully awake yet. He wore the same attire, and his wooden sword was still present, resting over his left shoulder as he held it lovingly.

“Greetings to all!” He exclaimed as he approached the gate.

The congregation seemed to have grown even larger over the course of the four days. It was as though every man woman and child for a hundred miles had been told about a free Wellspring opportunity and they all turned up, ready to try their hand at collecting the precious nutrients.

“Open the gates! We’ve waited all this time for you to let us in and we will not be denied entrance!” The same burly man shouted at the manor’s owner.

“Yes! The day has come! The Wellspring will be erupting in just a couple hours, so I will indeed open the gates to you all. However, I must again warn all of you against any violence on my property. Whoever gains benefits from the Wellspring will be the sole recipient of those nutrients. None will try to take another’s right for their own. Any violators will be removed from the grounds by force. This will be your only warning.”

The crowd all spoke amongst themselves for several moments about the implications of what had been said, but none raised a contest with the man. After a lengthy pause the man seemed to start his speech anew, this time with a proper welcome.

“Greetings to all who have come to take part in the Eruption. My name is Oliver Albrine; last of the Albrine family. My ancestors have safeguarded Wellsprings for thousands of years. It is my displeasure to bring you sad tidings. I’m afraid that many of you will not be able to receive any benefits. The Wellspring itself will choose who receives its energy. That decision is final. None may seek to question it. As previously stated, I am happy to let you all onto my property but know that I will be blameless if none of you are Blessed.”

“We have heard you! Just let us in already!” The burly man shouted.

“As you wish,” Oliver said.

The gate then seemed to open of its own accord. It swung inward silently, as though an unseen force pushed it on freshly greased hinges. When it was opened all the way, the massive tide of people piled their way into the large stone courtyard, wherein rested naught but a small well.

“Please, if you could all arrange yourselves in a circle around the well. We have some time before the Eruption starts, and I don’t want chaos when that time comes,” Oliver was saying.

The people tripped over each other to arrange themselves in a semi orderly manner around the well. The large courtyard seemed to fill quickly as hundreds of people attempted to find what they all considered to be the best spot. It took well over an hour for everyone to settle in. By that time there was a steady rumbling from underneath their feet. As the rumbling intensified, the whole courtyard grew silent. No one made a noise as the energy below them built to an incredible sum.

A Wellspring, well known to all, was a source of unfathomable energy. Some Wellsprings burst forth with physical energy, fortifying the body to levels not naturally possible. On top of immense strength, physical damage became easier to heal from, and much harder to receive in the first place. Those fortified by a Physical Wellspring were simply referred to as Brutes.

Some Wellsprings would provide longevity of spirit, or in other words, they would provide the recipients with unfathomable stamina and abnormally long lifespans. Those who benefited from a Spiritual Wellspring were often referred to as Enduriel.

But the Wellspring below Albrine Manor was of the rarest variety. This was an Enchanted Wellspring. This type of Wellspring took the longest to erupt and often gave the smallest amount of energy out of any Wellspring. Recipients of this type of energy were later referred to as the Orenda.

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A Wellspring of this magnitude, which was said to contain magic of Du Varia, was basically unheard of, which was why so many people had turned up to try to snag some for themselves. Everyone there, from the elders to the children would have to prove their ability to contain the magical energy that was set to burst forth.

A Wellspring was a connection to the energy of Du Varia which built over time. When the stores of that energy grew too large, they would burst forth, spewing power of one form or another out into the world. If none were around to gather it, that energy would be absorbed by the plants and animals, or otherwise soak back into Du Varia, fortifying it. The energy lost would recover steadily over many years to later be replenished and burst forth again.

But such concentrated energy was impossible for any living creature to contain in the span of a few minutes, if one tried to absorb the power on the spot, the sheer volume would consume most people’s spirit, overwhelming them with power and altering their composition. Such happenings were referred to as Corruptions and the resulting life force was simply called a Corrupt.

That was why it was important to be mentally and physically prepared. The energy would assimilate with them automatically, and it would be each individual’s responsibility to strain out the corruptive influence. Recipients would need several weeks or even months to fully absorb so much power, and with an Enchanted Wellspring, there were none who wished to risk losing themselves.

As the rumbling below everyone’s feet reached its peak, Oliver instructed everyone to open their hands palm up. Everyone did as instructed and waited patiently as the ground continued to protest.

“We will begin now!”

3

The ground shook even more violently as a large booming noise erupted from below. Many were knocked from their feet in the resulting earthquake. Some tried to regain their footing while others stayed on the ground, still cupping their hands in front of them.

When the rumbling seemed to be at the most violent it could become, everyone could feel the ground below them vibrating in a radial pattern. There seemed to be giant rings of vibration being pulled from the entire surrounding area to the small well upon which Oliver sat lazily.

The sound of rumbling grew so loud that many wanted to cover their ears, but just before anyone did, the entire area grew suddenly silent. Not so much as an insect could be heard all throughout the courtyard. Everyone began looking around in confusion.

“What happened? Is that it? Where is the-” a man’s voice was abruptly cut off as the sound of a massive explosion erupted from the well.

The whole area was immediately painted blue by the shiny substance that burst from within the well. It shot straight up in the air for several meters, whereupon it lost its cohesion and broke into thousands of smaller segments. Some of those segments reformed together on their way down to the ground, becoming larger deposits of energy, while others stayed as singular drops, providing very little energy.

Everyone held their hands out as the Wellspring chose its recipients. Instead of gravity pulling the energy straight down, the blue material zigzagged down in a random pattern as its many segments visibly searched for the ones they sought. None could look at the pattern of descent and say that someone was chosen by accident.

Some streaks disappeared into the surrounding forest. The energy was erratic until it zeroed in on its target. As soon as it did, the energy zoomed down directly to the one it chose. All around, collective dollops of arcane energy hovered in front of those deemed worthy.

Many who were blessed wept tears of joy at the honor Du Varia had given them. Children seemed more likely in general to receive the most benefits, while the elderly seemed to receive the least. There were exceptions of course, but in general Du Varia seemed to choose those with long lives ahead to Bless the most heavily.

When all the magical energy was dispersed, many were perturbed to realize they had not been given any energy. One such sore loser was the burly man who had been ever persistent in his demands to receive the Wellspring. He was more than a little upset to have been given nothing by Du Varia and he sought to ease his grievance.

“Give me that you little brat! You are too young to even begin absorbing that.” The man approached a small child who had been granted one of the highest reserves, aiming to steal it from him.

Before he reached the child, a blue light flashed in front of him. Oliver appeared in midair right in his face. With no expression, Oliver spun a hard kick into the side of the man’s face. The whole world seemed to slow down as the man’s face was snapped to the side. It took a full second for the sheer force of the impact to act on the man’s body.

There was a visible shockwave that shot out of the other side of the man. It was a thin line which almost resembled the swift flight of an arrow. It flew quickly all the way to the walls that surrounded the manor. The second it touched the wall, the man’s body finally registered the true force of the impact, and he was sent in a perfect trail following the invisible shockwave.

His body disappeared into the outer wall with enough speed to crack the mortar. Unbelievably, no damage was done. The man seemed to pass through the wall like it wasn’t there. Distant destruction of foliage could faintly be heard as the unworthy man crashed into the wilderness.

Stunned silence followed this display, as everyone tried to fathom what had just occurred. The boy he protected just looked at Oliver in wonder. No one moved for several seconds until he spoke.

“This concludes the Eruption. Those of you with a Blessing may spend the afternoon on the grounds allowing the energy to soak in to you. The process will occur without your effort. What is less autonomous is your journey to begin taming that power. I will say only this: do not rush the process. Mastery will come with time and diligence. As for the rest of you, you are no longer welcome here. Please leave,” Oliver finished without emotion. Without another glance at anyone, he walked back to the manor and disappeared.

4

In the manor, Oliver wound his way through the extensive estate, not really having a destination in mind. He often walked the halls in an aimless manner such as this, simply to help himself remember a time when more of his family roamed the manor with him.

He often heard scraps of his sister’s voice drifting though the empty walls. He felt certain at times that she would round a corner at any moment and demand that he show his training progress. But now he was alone; those days were in the past.

As he walked, Oliver mused to himself how he was able to use Lunge, a spell which allowed him to cover large distances in a single powerful step. It had always been one of his favorite spells. Despite only being support magic, it had often served him extremely well.

Combining it with his spell Increase, which allowed him to increase the force of any one impact by several magnitudes, was enough to make him seem superhuman to most denizens of Du Varia. He had many spells like this. Spells to help himself or others. Spells to detect magic. Spells of support.

But those were the only spells he could use. A chill ran the length of his spine as he remembered his disastrous attempt at offensive magic. The attempt that had cost him so much.

Oliver traversed many halls, climbing and descending staircase after staircase as his mind wondered. He thought hard about what had occurred in the courtyard. The amount of energy the Wellspring had provided had actually exceeded his expectations by a wide margin. In the eruption he had witnessed in the past, the same eruption that had granted his Blessing, only a fraction of the energy he saw today had been provided. It was peculiar to say the least.

In fact, according to the details of his family history, no eruption in the last thousand years had provided nearly so much energy. Some eruptions had provided no energy at all. Those were rare but seeing such an eruption would have been much less surprising than witnessing a Blessing such as the one today.

Still, Oliver was unconcerned. His Wellspring was known to erupt only once every fifty years, almost like clockwork. It never failed to fall within one year of that timeframe, and generally its eruption occurred during the hottest portion of the year.

The Wellspring was so punctual that every soul in the distant vicinity knew exactly when to show up and bang on the gate. It was a fact passed down by parents, grandparents, town elders, and sages. Far and wide, the people seemed to have the Wellspring pegged down to the month.

“Perhaps the next eruption will approach a quarter capacity,” Oliver thought to himself. As his mind pondered this, he suddenly sensed a disturbance coming from his sword.

The hilt, which was grasped firmly in Oliver’s hand as always, began to vibrate. The jewel in the pommel started to shine with an intensity he had never witnessed. Oliver snapped out of his daze and looked around at where he was. After a moment, his heart leapt in his chest.

He was standing in front of a statue. It wasn’t any old statue, however. He recognized it very well. It was a statue which bore the image of a beautiful woman. She had long hair which easily reached past her waist. Sharp, if round, ears pierced those long locks on each side of her head.

Her soft eyes carried a sadness and warning that could be interpreted through the ages. She was a being that few could look in the eye without flinching. Even witnessing her gaze through the dead stone was enough to inspire caution and discomfort in those who stared for too long. She was an extremely powerful woman, and one of Oliver’s most celebrated ancestors. Her name was Angli Albrine.

If Oliver remembered his family history correctly, Angli had been one of the people who established the estate, many centuries ago. She was a savior and protector. Her name was once known across the whole world for the work she did battling the dissonance of Du Varia.

In her time, the world was plagued with more turmoil than almost any other point in history. It was said that their family had been beseeched for help. Angli had been instrumental in restoring balance to Du Varia. But few people believed in such fantasies in these days.

Despite living in a world of magic and chaos, people were unwilling to believe in the existence of anything that could be considered “evil”. As for Angli, she had traveled the world several times over, accomplishing more than any other member of his family while she was alive, but eventually, she disappeared.

As the story went, she simply vanished never to be seen again. Her body had never been found, so no one knew if she was dead or alive. Centuries later, it was assumed widely that she had died, but given the mystery surrounding her disappearance as well as the absence of any evidence or remains, no one knew the truth. Some even claimed she could still be alive.

To anyone else, such a claim would be ridiculous. But Oliver and his family were special. The legend went that Du Varia itself bestowed a gift upon his family long ago. They had an ability called Sleep that would fully rejuvenate their bodies. This, in addition to healing from otherwise deadly wounds, allowed them to live on for extremely long amounts of time. If a person carried the blood of the Albrine, they were capable of living for centuries.

The only drawback was that entering Sleep could take years, decades even to repair injuries if they were severe enough. As a result, members of the family would often disappear for long periods of time, unable to wake until their bodies and spirits were restored. The family had to have many members to fill any space left by such disappearances.

Despite this flaw, the ability produced many old and wise minds within the family. The oldest Albrine had lived for twelve hundred years. But that was long before the estate was even established, in a time when the Albrine family spent their lives patrolling the various Wellsprings.

In those days they were simple servants of Du Varia. But the years had passed, and despite all the advantages his family had been given, they were gone. Now, Oliver was the only Albrine left.

Even he had been alive for over a century. Although admittedly, much of that time had been spent in recovery. Oliver shook his head, banishing an unwelcome thought. He turned his attention back to the present.

There, standing in front of the statue of one of his most celebrated ancestors, Oliver couldn’t help but feel some apprehension. He had no idea why. He had passed the statue a thousand times or more roaming the halls. Why was it making him feel this way?

Her statue was nothing overly extravagant. She was dressed in what appeared to be a plain robe, which fit loosely over her, creating many folds throughout the garment. Plain looking sandals adorned her feet, which barely peeked out from the bottom of her robe.

A metal band with many jewels in it wrapped around her head, though it made no effort to contain her hair. One of her hands was held out in front of her, in a halting gesture. Her other hand grasped an unsheathed sword, which was resting over her shoulder in the same exact manner Oliver now held his own weapon.

That wasn’t the only similarity, either. While Oliver held a gem capped hilt attached to a wooden sword, the sword held by the statue contained an identical gem to the one he was holding. The only differences were that the sword hilt Angli was holding looked more complete somehow and, unsurprising of a statue, the sword was metal instead of wood. Most striking of all the similarities, was that the gem in the pommel of the sword, much like the one he held, glowed with an intense light.