Aetherium, Fictilis, Infernum, Tenebris.

The kingdoms of the realm were once many, but war and terror has brought the world’s people to these select four.

Even among them, power has a way of tipping the scales as it pleases, and the other kingdoms simply stood no chance against the aerial might of Aetherium.

Aetherium was gifted with the power of the winds, and its people wielded the ability to manipulate it with ease. Fictilis’ people remained firmly of the earth, and as a result could mold its crust to their choice. Infernum of course sought the power of destruction within the flame, and found such and more within its sparks.

Tenebris sought no elemental might, and simply became a disconnected ruin from what was once a glorious kingdom just like the rest.

The elements had been fashioned into nothing more than tools for humanity’s use.

Most other races were wiped out by man’s abuse of the very same elements that gave them life.

Most.

“This monologue is great and all, but why exactly do I need to know this?”

“You could at least let me finish.” The old man barked in a rough and tired tone, as he ran a hand through an unsightly gray beard. The elder was of dark brown skin, as he sat pondering on a seat made of rock and stone. His eyes were dark with age, as he rose onto his feet and sighed. “Malcontent rascal.” The elder sneered as he tapped what appeared to be a wooden cane to the ground.

“Expedite your words, elder.” The other voice said, far more youthful and full of energy compared to the old man’s. His eyes were an electric blue, as he glanced at the old man with some semblance of respect. His hair was jet black, and his skin was a somewhat pale white. Yet his face was framed with nothing more than a soft smile.

“Expediting.. You really are a fool.”

“That's where you’re wrong.” The young man said, as he turned away from the old man to glance up at the sky. Birds flew across the width of his vision, leaving swift shadows to graze across his view. Before him laid a massive web of chunks of earth, all hovering amongst the clouds. “My decision is mine, and it is not one I make hastily.”

Each chunk was a massive island in it's own right, all connected together and lingering in union in the heavens.

“Ah, what I would give to be in a time where I could make decisions. Yet time has passed my choices by.” The elder heaved as he rose from the seat of smoothed earth, tapping his cane to the ground again as the chair behind him crumbled and dissolved back into the ground from whence it came. “As I was getting to, the people of Aetherium will not be favorable to you, and it will be difficult to obtain recognition.”

“That doesn’t matter, I welcome the challenge.” He said, his arms stretching in a yawn before he looked back at the elder. “Instead, I would be appalled to find out this bridge you spoke of isn’t real.” His voice was fading even as the words came out, as hesitation began to settle within the fragments of dread. He had planned to stand here, and up there, for as long as he could remember. Yet even now as he watched the massive bridge of earth propelling from one of the many islands within the skies, forming as it went before slamming almost gently into the earth below him. Even before all this, he was hoping he could walk away and forgo the silly dreams of his youth.

That time had already passed however, as for the first time in many years, the passage to Aetherium had opened once more. “How long will it remain?” He asked, his voice regaining its vigor as he knelt down to feel the bridge of ruddied brown rock. Despite its roughened appearance, it felt almost like mud in its malleable texture. He felt as if he could simply clench his fist and take a piece of it out with him, yet his fingers couldn’t even begin to curl around it. After waiting so long without a response, he looked back to find the Elder was watching him, eyes crinkling with some form of amusement.

“They say years, but I say months.”

Well, there was no time like the present. He stood up, looking back at the old man one more time before bowing curtly and turning around. “Thank you for your help, Elder.”

“Don’t die too fast, boy.”

He laughed, before shaking his head and continuing to walk forward, his feet scratching the ground that was before not even there as he strode across the bridge and up into the skies. Into Aetherium.

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The bridge was longer than he had anticipated. By the time he had actually arrived at the kingdom’s gates the sun that was once brilliantly caressing the clouds had faltered to the cusp of the distant horizon. His gaze shifted to its dwindling luster before staring back up at the Kingdom’s entrance, he had arrived at the first of the many floating islands, and also the largest.

The height didn’t bother him, even as he gazed down below the bridge and towards the seemingly endless abyss, it was almost calming to view. He had seen worse, though many could make that claim.

He watched on as the gates opened, parting with dust fizzling from the rustic hinges, the wood a painted cyan that rumbled and scraped as it shuddered outward.

From the gate came a man, large and burly top to bottom in a royal’s dressings. A man boring a knee-length tunic and leggings that went down to the ankles. Shoes that were almost like slippers over his feet and a massive azure coat draped over it all, with gold ornate linings draped over that as well. It was a rather dramatic attire, and yet he bore it well and with pride. Walking up to stand at the very cusp of the bridge.

“Greetings, refugees, travelers, all those who have come from far off lands!” His voice bellowed and boomed, as if amplified to reverberate across the skies and beyond the heavens. As he stood proud and tall, his words lingered in the air as he looked down upon the young man. “..That was less than I was expecting.”

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He winced, before stretching his arms and looking up at the king. “Greetings, your majesty.” He lowered himself into a brief bow, before rising up to look the monarch in the eyes. “I suppose I am a little early.” The king observed him with calculating gray eyes, he made sure to not shrink under the titan’s gaze before the monarch began to laugh resoundingly.

“You wear very plain clothes, but the air about you is unique. Something tells me you need no guide in our land.” The king’s voice was rather callous, despite the words remaining semi-formal. “If you would give your name at the very least.” While the king proposed his question, the man’s eyes were scanning the kingdom’s lord for a scabbard of any kind, one akin to the blade he had sheathed upon his hip.

Yet there was none, the monarch had seemingly come unarmed and alone.

“Basil, to be at your service.” He proclaimed, to which the king merely scoffed. “Do not place yourself so high yet, when you are a citizen of Aetherium, you will be seen as an outcast. Proving yourself is an obligation.” The sound of pattering footsteps caused Basil to turn around, his gaze shifting back across the bridge. Upon which a swarm of people began to fester and clamber.

“Ah, it seems the people are beginning to flow in!” The king walked past him, outstretching his arms in flamboyant greeting, he watched the prideful movements with indifference before focusing upon the group treading the bridge at this moment. “Those look to be bandits and thieves, rather than refugees.”

“Is that so?” The king’s expression darkened, as the group became more and more visible. They were covered in brown wrappings and leather, as opposed to a normal traveler’s clothes. Their equipment was primed for battle, to which both the king and Basil sighed simultaneously.

“That is bandit attire alright.” The king shook his head and grimaced. “First a lone straggler and now a bunch of thieves, did my invitation go to all the wrong places?” The bandits had already arrived in front of them, having crossed at an alarming pace. Despite their mostly covered faces, their eyes sparkled with greed as daggers were brandished from within the wrappings, their iron making shining underneath the sunset.

“As a king, this would be a great opportunity to show Aetherium’s impenetrable strength.”

“I didn’t come here to dirty myself.” The king remarked, lazily scratching his head as he glanced at Basil with a calculating grin. “Rather, I can give you something in return for dealing with this.” Greed was not of use to Basil, but any amenities he was offered would create versatility for him going forward.

The bandits looked amongst themselves, confused by this oddity of a conversation in what should have been a more tense moment. One of the bandits came forward, wearing no head coverings and having a dark brown face exposed to the elements. His eyes were a peculiar green as well,

“The king himself greeted travelers like this… that will be your demise. As well as the end of this tainted era.” His face was marked with blood that stained his beard and dark complexion. The king ignored him, looking at Basil for his answer.

“Unfortunately, I am not a citizen of Aetherium yet. I still need to go through the long signing procedures before all that, as well as confirmation of my identity… not to mention money and a place to sleep in the meantime…” He yawned, smiling as he did. The king laughed at his words, almost becoming teary eyed before steadying himself and grinning.

“Extorting the King? You are an interesting fellow.” He glanced at the bandits, his smile and jovial expressions faded slightly. “Very well. Try to be quick about it.” The monarch stepped back and crossed his arms, intent on watching this fight carry out.

Basil shrugged, as he wrapped his fingers around his blade’s hilt. His eyes steeled as he walked forward to stand in front of the bandit, his hand twitching slightly across its handle. The bandit lowered his stance, his left hand holding the dagger in reverse grip. “You aren’t of his kingdom yet, we have no gripe with you.” The bandit explained, to which Basil only responded with a thin smile.

He unsheathed his blade, a longsword with a silver edge that shined brilliantly as his arm and blade drifted, pointing the saber at the bandit before finally speaking. “You’re right, but I have a gripe with you.” He began to slowly stride forward, his body swaying ever so slightly left and right as the bandit tensed before lunging forward, cutting his relaxed stance to ribbons.

Or, that would have happened. Yet instead the small weapon glanced off Basil’s silver sword, as he raised it to parry the blow with little effort. “Weapons like these are probably pretty useful in the eastern desert, but that won’t do you any good here.” As he spoke, he stabbed his blade into the bandit’s foot, causing him to roar in pain.

“Not against a real blade.” He remarked before kicking the bandit square in the sternum, the physical force causing him to fall backwards. He cried out as the silver sword cut through his foot during the motion, coiling into a pathetic messy husk as Basil ripped his sword from the earth, slotting its flat end over his shoulder.

“That's one, though there are quite a few of you.” He explained, raising his empty hand and taunting the remaining foes with two fingers. Those who had watched that display were beginning to become hesitant, but the numbers advantage enabled some remnant of confidence to reignite within them.

They charged forward, to which Basil exhaled with a sarcastic depth. “Seriously, fighting as a group doesn’t matter if you’re not co-ordinated.” The horde charged forward, as Basil once again removed his blade from his shoulder, scanning the group.

At the very front was the one he was looking for, a disgusting odor wafted off that bandit. As Basil’s anger only slightly flared he ran forward as well, striking the bandit at the waistline. His blade cut through them cleanly by the waist. Their blood spurting onto the earthen bridge as they fell off into the abyss below.

The bandits looked on in horror, as their ragtag formation was dissected in a single moment. Basil lowered himself to one knee to pick up the bandit’s waterskin, which he had somehow cut off before it fell off. He relaxingly took a quick sip, weighing it slightly as he stood up.

Yet now Basil was stuck in the middle of them, completely surrounded. Their fear turned into triumph, as they charged him once more. Despite the cascade of differing emotions, it didn’t matter. Even as they took the first step, they had lost the fight.

The sound like thunder, as if one was hearing such a force crash against the air that it created the eruption of noise. That was what the bandits and the king heard.

By the time the sound had faded, all of the bandits surrounding him had fallen to the ground, laying completely still. Basil stood similarly rigid, looking around at the fallen before looking back at the king. “Is that satisfactory to his highness?” The king looked at him with curiosity, before turning around and walking through the still open gates.

“Kill them all and bring me their heads, and then you will get your payment.” His words were heavy and cold, calling Basil’s bluff with an oppressive flourish. As he did, the bandits began to bleed, as they clutched the light cuts upon their stomachs. “It was worth a shot.” He remarked, before perking up to the remaining bandit. They were young, barely half the height of the others, and his eyes were a pitch black that contracted the whites enclosing them.

He seemed too young.

“Why didn’t you kill them?” The young bandit asked, to which Basil shrugged as he looked down at the water skin still in his hand. It gasped air as he threw it off the bridge and brandished his blade. “I won’t kill you either.”

The bandit tilted his head, his wrappings falling off to reveal a mop of messy brown hair atop his pale head. He wasn’t of the same race as the rest of them then, he sheathed his sword and stepped forward slowly. “We killed people on the way here, they don’t deserve that, we don’t deserve that.” Basil flinched as the youth continued his questions.

“Only one of you was a true murderer.” Basil explained knowingly, and his gaze softened as he looked the youth in the eyes. He knelt down to make direct contact. “What happened to you?”

The youth’s eyes widened slightly. “I was traveling with a group of refugees, when we were attacked by those bandits…” The youth realized then. “You killed the one who murdered the refugees…” He said, referring to the single dead thief. Basil nodded along, seemingly having already known. “The stench of blood on him was nauseating, as I said, he crossed the line.”

“You made one mistake though.” The youth said, and Basil looked on with confusion. Even before he could formulate a response, he felt it roaring.

It was an overwhelming murderous intent, beyond anything he could comprehend. He barely lifted his feet off the ground as the bridge erupted with black. Tendrils of palpable shadow piercing the earth where he had stood, as well as his foot. He grimaced as he landed back on the ground.

“You tried to expend another chance on me.” The youth said, the wrapping falling off his back as he stepped backwards. Revealing a blade of a pitch black edge. Basil watched on as he brushed himself off of any remaining wraps before staring into his eyes. “You’ve chosen a bad kingdom to side with.” The youth said, though his voice felt unnatural in comparison to before. He began to slowly pace backwards, as Basil began to unsheathe his sword.

Shadow encasing his form and dispersing, taking him along with it. Basil stood confused for a moment as he sheathed his blade. What was the point of that attack?

The answer became clear as he looked around him again, and saw that all of the once still breathing bandits had been torn apart by the attack. He covered his mouth, the odor of raw meat and graymatter burning his nose.

The boy had disappeared, likely having retreated.

At the very least, he could give them a proper burial.