Thameland’s springtime was usually a season of endless rains, cloudy skies, and chilling mists that covered the realm, seeming to last for days on end. But lately, nature had been kinder, sharing the Generasi skies with these northern lands.
The sun had been unusually bright and warm, beaming down in all its glory. From coast to coast, the heavens were clear, the air warm and filled with the promise of an early and hot summer.
Throughout the kingdom, soldiers and knights marched beneath bright skies, their armour gleaming under sunlight, and their cloaks billowing in an exhilarating breeze. Songs were on their lips, the symbol of the Traveller had joined the symbol of Uldar around many necks, and hope lay in their hearts.
These days there was much to hope for. Tobias Jay had made a pivotal announcement some weeks before.
That day had begun unremarkably, then the high priest of Uldar had called a mass assembly for all priests and soldiers within the capitol. The sky had been cloudy and miserable as a cold drizzle whipped down on the battalions gathered before the cathedral.
The old priest had mounted the balcony when the warriors had assembled, and those close enough to see him from near, would recall that he seemed stronger than he had in weeks.
A newfound vigour had lifted his back and a great purpose had guided his steps.
Tobias had raised his hands, calling all to order before speaking. With a voice that reached as far as the city walls—his words were carried by a powerful miracle—he talked of the war, of hope, and perseverance: all subjects the army’s battle-chaplains lectured on nearly every day.
Familiar subjects that had grown more tiresome as the war dragged on.
Yet—even as the eyes of the soldiery began to dull—Tobias’ words strayed into unfamiliar waters. He began speaking of numerous miracles that had been regularly occurring, a subject that caught the soldiers’ attention.
These miracles had come in the form of interventions; soldiers being saved from threats bearing down on them, and monsters being struck down with no sign of injury to their bodies from either weapon, spell or miracle.
He talked of entire battalions finding their way home after having gone missing in great swells of fog and torrential rains. He told of more strange occurrences where Ravener-spawn had acted strangely, showing kindness to mortals instead of slaughtering them on sight.
Confused folk had been wondering about these strange new wonders—though priests had attempted to explain them in their regular sermons—but the bewildered had listened attentively when the high priest had addressed these occurrences.
And he had captured their attention by way of a strange tale.
He’d recounted the story of the Saint of Thameland from centuries earlier—a mysterious woman from Alric only known as the Traveller, whose cave had allowed the Thameish people to escape the Ravener with ease—telling of her dedication to the people. Tobias had been poetic, his voice steeped in reverence as he detailed a new truth to those gathered before him: that the Traveller had been divinely elevated and was working tirelessly to bring new hope to the kingdom.
The high priest had revealed that the mysterious blessings members of the army had been receiving were from her doing, and that the Ravener-spawn aiding folk were also due to the Traveller’s interventions.
Nods and whispers had raced through the gathered priests and soldiers; the Heroes had been spreading word of the Traveller for months at that point, and so the army had accepted Tobias’ revelation as confirmation that they were being watched over and blessed. They were grateful for their good fortune.
But those events hadn't been the only marvels that Tobias had spoken of on that day.
He had also revealed that the Traveller was bringing about new miracles: she had unveiled a hidden cache of Uldar’s ancient weapons and armour, for the Heroes and their allies to equip themselves with for war.
This had caused a great cheer to spread through the soldiers, knights and priests.
But, Tobias’ next revelation had shocked them all into silence.
He had revealed a hidden Mark: the Traveller had laboured with Uldar to transform the Fool into a mighty commander for the other Heroes.
This new Hero was called the General.
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Even as the high priest had spoken of this revelation, he’d raised his hands toward the steel-grey sky.
A column of morning sunlight had split the clouds, revealing the five Heroes of Thameland floating in the blue, clad in glittering armour, holding weapons from Uldar’s own collection, and flanked by holy engeli singing of the General’s purpose.
Smiles and joy took over the faces of those who weren’t gaping in awe.
Alex had raised his hands, conjuring fire in his left and lightning in his right. A powerful illusion manifested massive glowing images of the Marks in the sky, revealing the new white colouration of the Saint, Sage and Champion. Tobias had revealed Uldar’s and the Traveller’s gift to the masses: and by working together, the ancient Saint and god were improving the Heroes’ Marks, granting them new more magnificent powers.
“Let it be now known that the Traveller is on our side!” the high priest had shouted. “She has Uldar’s blessing, and—through her—Uldar’s glory and his people will prosper! Include her in your prayers and spread word of her! Let it be known that hope has returned and that a new day has dawned! And that this new day shall be the Ravener’s last! For this will be the final cycle! This is the cycle where we will defeat our great enemy forevermore!”
At that, the army had fallen to their knees, worshipping and praising Uldar, the Traveller and the Heroes.
That had taken place weeks ago.
Since that day, bright days and warm winds had heartened Thameland.
And Alex had worked hard in that time.
Now free of classes and with the school year finished for his friends, he was spending most of his time in Thameland, training the Heroes and fighting alongside them. The young archwizard would teleport through the skies of his kingdom, finding battles between the Thameish army and Ravener-spawn.
Whenever he found one, he would summon great hordes of powerful monsters to set upon the spawn, then join in the battle himself. He would often take command of the soldiers—directing them with finely honed tactics—and distract enemies with simple spells such as Wizard’s Hands, forceballs, and forcedisks.
He would follow with booby-trapped potions—including Elder Blodeuwedd’s mana draining tonics—powerful summoning spells from his staff, and devastating combat magics that he would cast using incantations from both mouth and body.
Like a deity, he devastated battlefields, broke Ravener-spawn, then crushed any survivors.
He would then descend among the army, encouraging them with his most well-crafted speeches then help heal the wounded with blood magic. People would gape: where once they saw a Fool, now they saw a mighty commander of legions, wielding a demigod’s power.
When his work was done, he’d openly praise the Traveller for guiding him through the battle—pleased as others bowed their heads in prayer—then teleport away, in search of the next battlefield.
Much of his days were spent in this way, when he wasn’t in the laboratory at Greymoor or training Cedric.
Together, he, Professor Jules, Baelin and Isolde had developed several prototypes of the venom they would use on the Ravener. The first concoction had been strong but not deadly enough, but each new iteration was more potent than the last.
In this latest creation, Alex had infused Elder Blodeuwedd’s mana ejecting potion into the venom, which should force the Ravener to expel its power from any area of its form that had been poisoned.
He was also helping to fine tune the machine that would disrupt the Ravener’s control over the earth, increasing the radius of the device’s protection. Still, he wasn’t quite satisfied yet: the deeper the need to travel down into the Ravener’s lair, the more powerful the machine would have to be. If they went deep underground, it wouldn’t matter if the Ravener couldn’t affect the soil directly around them, since all it would need to do is simply collapse the millions of tons of earth and rock above them…then let gravity do the rest of the work.
The latest iteration of the machine was effective up to a thousand yards out: which would offer a good deal of protection.
“That’s very good,” Professor Jules had complimented it after they’d tested it on a wild dungeon.
But, Alex had shaken his head. “It needs to be better: the radius needs to be wider. What if we need to go down two thousand yards below ground? Or three? It has to be better.”
And so they had returned to the lab, continuing their work on the machine.
He’d also worked on devices to drain away the Ravener’s mana: into these, he’d infused the elder’s potions as well, increasing their power.
All was going well in the laboratory.
In training, the Heroes and cabal were also making progress.
At this point, every member of the cabal had mastered Alex's technique of breaking down spell arrays and were using that to understand magic better. Isolde, Khalik, Thundar, Cedric now knew Planar Doorway, and were mastering its versatility.
Khalik could now cast the spell with a few simple muscle twitches, and Isolde needed less and less of the incantation to use it.
Thundar and Cedric were close behind, and each of them were progressing faster because of another skill they’d mastered.
Mana Regeneration.
Every spellcaster among the cabal and Heroes could now use the specialised technique, letting them practise for far longer than before.
With the extended practice time, they had all broken through to fifth-tier, if they weren’t already at that level of power. Sixth-tier, and True Seeing, wouldn’t be too far behind for those working toward it.
Hart, Drestra and Merzhin were mastering their new limits, growing into more devastating forces on the battlefield. With their newly claimed equipment from Uldar’s armoury, battles that once required all four Heroes to achieve victory, were now being won with only one present.
With the addition of Bjorgrund, Asmaldestre—both of whom could now openly wield Uldar’s weapons—Theresa, the cabal and Claygon to the battlefield, many Thameish soldiers were saying that they were the most blessed generation of warriors who had ever fought the Ravener during the endless cycles. They boasted that they would be the ones to witness the final destruction of their ancient enemy.
Yet, despite hope filling Thameland…there was one who was not filled with it, but rather with frustration.
There was one task looming in which the priesthood, the Heroes, or Generasians had made no progress:
Finding the elusive Ravener.