13 hours earlier. The first day of the New World.
The blue wisps had started to fade. The noble city of Tehralain was in panic mode, the bell tower rung wildly to alert the townsfolk of an imminent threat.
Aleyth had just watched the sunset over the river of Tarl, named after his great ancestor, that ran through his city; down through the hills and toward the distant woodland.
The golden hues of his world were replaced with a cold, dull grey sky line. Strange buildings and distant towers of glass stood in the distance. Metallic birds that buzzed in the sky hung around the periphery of his city walls.
“Aleyth” a voice rang out. He turned to see his consort, Lady Vehrane, eyes wide with horror.
“Did you feel it?... The change in the atmosphere, the level of the magic that bound us? How are we here? Where is… here?!” she faltered.
“Transportation magic… at a level we’ve never known. It can’t have been the Turukai. Perhaps our exiled brothers and sisters… but still it is beyond anything I can comprehend, beyond anything I have ever studied” Aleyth said pensively.
“To the gods, may they guide us” Vehrane said
Aleyth closed his cobalt blue eyes and held his large gangly hands outwards. He tapped into his telepathy power.
“Braxton. Arm your soldiers. Full alert, triple the guard at the gates and keep watch of the skies. We are in a strange land and I suspect they will treat us with extreme caution, as we will treat them”
The residents of Tehralain withdrew from their streets, seeking shelter away from the world that surrounded them. Braxton’s garrison had armed at incredible speed, 1,000 units ready for their lords command.
Braxton was known throughout the lands as an incredible fighter and leader; a formidable presence on any battlefield he stood a foot taller than the average Elf, an impressive 8ft, he was also astonishingly broad and muscular for elven kind. Skin of dark purple, his body and face were littered in scars of varied length and width that could not be removed, even with the best healing. A warrior class that followed the path of the juggernaut, it was around this age, at 300 years old, that his strength would start a slow decline. He took a deep breath, knowing in this moment that he would need every ounce of the strength and guile he could muster, if his people were to ever find their way home.
“My Lord. There’s a growing presence at our northern gate. It seems our hosts are ready to talk” Braxton said within his mind, knowing Aleyth was tuned in.
“Very well Braxton. Do not wear your hulking armour, formal civilian clothes for our introduction. Bring Dreya, Felix and Shahine; we will approach as a five.” The words echoed within Braxton’s mind “I will meet you at the gate”.
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A solid mix, Braxton thought. Shahine the healer of light, Felix the arcane mage, Dreya their trusted elemental tank and of course Aleyth; their prince and future king. Aleyth was the only person known alive to have reached level 101, an ultra rare multi-class stealth assassin meets combat mage.
Braxton was Aleyth’s elder and had been at level 99 for over 50 years. In that time Aleyth had stretched himself and continued to relentlessly hone his craft, being the first in centuries to breach the wall of level 100.
Braxton’s communications expert had utilised their own localised telepathy power to coordinate his comrades who now all stood by the Northern gate awaiting their lord.
Shahine had her own unique golden glow, a high level healer who’s skills were bolstered by the two suns of their world. Long golden hair and light green skin was a rarity amongst their kind. Her clothes were a soft blue, made of silk and blew elegantly in the gentle breeze.
Felix wore darker blue robes that hung heavily across his slim frame, the eldest of the group he was wise and a specialist in arcane magic that provided much utility to the prince and the kingdom. Over many years he had honed the power of translation, enabling him to tap into the specific segments of minds that supported language construction and interpretation; this would be his role today. His brilliant white hair and bushy eyebrows supported a furrowed brow and wrinkled skin that would crack with a smile.
Dreya, unlike Braxton, did not wear battle armour, she could call upon the elements of earth and fire at will. Her role today would be to silently watch and observe any potential threats. With massive amounts of health and endurance she could take a direct blow even from the most mighty of opponents and still stand. Black braided hair framed her battle hardened face, her skin was the more common purple of her kind but her most striking feature were the bright emerald eyes that sparkled like jewels catching light.
Whilst the group waited by the Northern Gate, a small armed unit in their battle outfits lined up either side of the white cobbled road. They held two banners on giant 15ft silver poles bearing Aleyth’s family crest; The House of Eternal Sun. A white sun surrounded by pale blue circle, as well as green, blue and white geometric patterns.
A small portion of air near the group warped momentarily, replaced by Aleyth who was wearing his royal dress attire, white and pale blue. This was the formal dress wear of the Royal Family, brilliant white with splashes of blue, stitched neatly with silver thread; various protections enchanted the fabric. Around his neck was a precious artefact, which many thought to be decorative, but it had other uses too.
Aleyth exchanged small pleasantries with the group before beginning “Okay. We lead as a five and walk, slowly. No weaponry. No acting rashly and absolutely nobody attacks unless I command it”
“Yes Sir” came a unified response from the group and the surrounding units of troops.
“Finally. If they attack us, only defensive manoeuvres are permitted. No counter attacks, unless I command it. Is that clear?”
“Yes Sir”
“Very well, to my loyal men bearing our crest. Please wait 50 paces behind us and hold. Felix to my left. Dreya to my right. Shahine wherever you like… and Braxton you’ll have to stand behind us…. your height is intimidating to me, let alone what it must feel like to those who await us. They seem… small… and weak - we will learn”
“Yes Sir”
“Felix, are they close enough for you to begin your translation skill?”
“No, afraid not. Young Prince. As soon as I am able, I will commence. Once I begin I will need only a few minutes; so let us pace our approach accordingly.”
“Very well. Open the gates!” Aleyth commanded to the men stood on wooden platforms behind the city walls.