Hello. My names are Andras Telmire Grigori, and Vincent Telmire Stesk, the mage of two lives, the wizards Telmire. If you, dear mortal, are reading this then you have stumbled upon one of the few genuinely true accounts of my lives, either that or I am dead and this book as somehow found its way to a museum or some such place. My relationship with time has always been a loose one, and even now I struggle to imagine a world without my influence, so it matters not to me when or where you read this account.
Andras Telmire Grigori was an archamge of the dark arts, and a powerful ‘hero’. I must use that word lightly as I was eventually condemned for my methodologies after securing victory for the Teraqi empire in the hour of their greatest need. What they did not expect, however, was my final gambit to ensure immortality. In final combat with a man I had once called friend, now betrayer, I succeeded in casting my ultimate spellform and securing for me a legacy of endless potential by securing my soul matrix to the winds of magic themselves, to be reborn in the far future long after the fall of the pitiful Teraqi Emperors.
Unfortunately, my spell worked too well, and I catapulted myself backwards in time rather than forwards. Expending my entire mana supply for the spell in a single action, and then overdrawing from the system buffer presented to me by the laws of the world, I effectively stranded myself in the past. In the body of a newborn babe.
Thus I came to know myself, my new self, Vincent ‘Telmire’ Stesk. A mewling infant born to the arms of a rather respectable duo of retired professionals. A mercenary and a mage to be specific. The eighteen years I spent trapped in a provincial village as ‘Vincent’ weren’t as utterly agonizing as I initially suspected, and over time the influence of childhood seemed to be seeping into my consciousness. Such was not the case though, as come my eighteenth birthday and system unlock, two minor deities of the pantheon revealed to me the magnitude of my mistake. Vincent already had a soul.
As I aged and grew in the body I had claimed, so too did the original soul, and as Vincent became stronger, his (or rather my) influence on the shared personality grew. Two souls, one body, hundreds of years of fractured memories, and catastrophic soul damage being held together by nothing short of wishes and paper-mache. With each passing day, we became more of a unified whole, and my two souls competed for influence of the being we would inevitably be. From my position as the host, I found it impossible to differentiate among the two, so I’m afraid I can offer you no other insight on the matter. The only thing I know we share for sure is an endless, nigh obsessive motivation to be better. Better than each other, better than our parents, better than everyone else. Skills, spells, classes, and even ephemeral metrics like power and fame will be unacceptable unless I am the best. Telmire does not settle.
During my time in the quaint little town, I came to the realization that there are only so many things I can accomplish on my own. To that end, it became prudent to cultivate a small band of allies and lackeys, if not partners, that I could rely on in situations where my magic might otherwise prove insufficient. The first of these was Cain. I created Cain from the corpse of a deceased wolf, and though at first he was a middling minion at best, his resonance with me and with the system as a whole proved dramatic. I accepted a pact with a disembodied voice to further my power shortly before my system unlock day, and in doing so Cain was significantly empowered. I have yet to discover the connection this voice had to the gods I spoke with during my ascension, but Cain only grows more and more fascinating every level.
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The second of my two undead minions is Kite. Kite is an idiot. Literally. The small Spirit Kestrel was only elevated to further my skill levels and shore up a glaring gap in my ability to scout at long range. Kite did not level up much in the time before my departure of the village and, even with the levels they did gain, retained the mind of an animal the entire time. In truth, Kite could likely be replaced with a particularly clever balloon and the results wouldn’t be much different, but diligence and mastery are fundamental to long term success. I remain hopeful in their improvement.
My final ‘friend’ as I set off along the northern forest paths, was Sigil. Sigil is not an undead, but rather a summoned familiar, a spirit of the void attuned alignments that naturally permeate most of my magic. I summoned Sigil and forged a mutually beneficial compact with them that has resulted in the closest thing to a partnership among my small band. I do of course, have things things I keep from Sigil and likewise they have secrets of their own. The connection between us ensures mutual growth though, so it remains beneficial for us to work together whenever possible. Sigil originally took the form of a small black cat, but with the level ups and evolutions that proceeded our journey northward, Sigil increased significantly in size, to become a [Missing Lynx].
And so, it was in this matter that I set out from the village, less than two weeks after ascending to my new levels, unable to hunt down the final levels I needed for a class evolution beforehand. Seeking power, prestige, and the answers to my questions, I left my entire life behind, or so I thought.
I left on foot, with my shadowy companions falling in step behind. Both Cain and Sigil were made of more shadow than anything else, especially after Cain evolved to become a [Shade Wolf] and later [Void Hound]. Kite was riding on Cain’s back, and we were all admittedly paying little attention to our surroundings, at least less than we should have.
Sigil refuses to answer any questions about that day, so I suspect he knew more about our pursuers than he admits, but we were no doubt followed. Departing the village only a few minutes behind us, following our trail with a smattering of skills I still haven’t asked about, was my childhood friend Leigh, and her familiar spirit Cinder.
Cinder, now a bulking [Forgefire Boar] on par with Sigil in terms of evolutionary tier, was piled high with packs and parcels, carrying most of Leigh’s personal belongings as they traipsed through the forest behind us.
The moment they crossed the border of the village, Leigh produced a large tarp she’d enchanted with [Mana Crafting] to hide them from detection as they followed. It was a minor boon for their duo, but would allow them to stay closer than otherwise.
Oblivious to their presence, I continued onwards, not knowing what my new world would have in store.