In a chic boutique, a large man dressed in opulent silks of great variety scrolled through the shop's ledger. He had been at this for quite a while.
Apart from him, there was a young man. He went around the shop, checking the rows of hanging charms, and his void cat that followed him like a diligent assistant. The two went through the familiar motions in a tranquil silence, first the dreamcatchers, then the irrigation wands, flame talismans, and then the progressively more magical items behind the tempered displays. Eventually satisfied, he locked the bolt on the main door, closing for the day, and proceeded to stand behind the busy man.
His thoughts wandered. 'Silly is not here yet. I bet the whole menagerie is drunk again...'
Tommy had owned this shop for 3 years now. By now, it had chains in three nearby towns, all under his watch. But such a thing was expected from him. He was ready for bigger things
'I wonder if I can takeover the caravans now. Silly won't like...'
His brother had always been the happy-go-lucky troublemaker. Yet, he loved the caravans. Rather, he loved traveling, leaving Tommy to hold the fort, taking care of the grown-up stuff. Not that...
The bell clinked as the door opened and a woman walked into the shop.
"You..", the man jumped up from his seat, his eyes wide, finger pointed at the newcomer, his book lying on the floor.
"Yes, it's me, Dear! I bring good news..."
'Weird, didn't I lock... ' Tommy couldn't complete the thought. He felt suffocated. The woman stood by the door, her figure enlarged in his vision, taking up most of the space, her eyes piercing through him. He couldn't look away.
All she had done, was look at him, and smile.
---
On a ship, sailors clung onto ropes for their dear lives. They had seen a hundred storms already this season, yet none was as dangerous as this one. For it was their captain holding the wheel.
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The wind gods were merciful, sending a pleasant breeze their way. So were the leviathons and the creatures of the deep, who slept soundly underwater. So had been the case ever since they banded together two seasons ago.
Some of the crew said the ship was an ancient artefact blessed by the Night. Others claimed it was all because of the captain.
Right now, the ship creaked and twisted, like a kite without it's strings. And the drunk captain hollered obscene shanties as more and more wind followed her slurred command. And so, everyone braced however they could if they didn't outright tie themselves down.
Asva was having the time of her life. [I, Princess Asva of the Shattered Isles, the most beautiful and cool, the most successful pirate captain in the goddamned ever, coolest of all, am going to the Kingdom. Don't miss me. No, don't you dare forget me, my dear minions. Except you, Derek, you suck on my ...]
---
In a jungle as old as time itself, a group sat around a bonfire. The white of their once shiny armor was matted in black mud and dried blood, their shields scratched and bent, their faces tired and grim. And yet, the four of them sat upright, used to the weight of their knightly responsibilities.
They were the watchers - looking for any sign of foreign incursions into the realm. The world had once been whole. Not anymore. New pieces of reality inserted themselves anywhere they could find mana, like parasites feeding upon the world. And so, the four had been charged with the noble burden of watching out for any new shifts in the world.
They were the hunters too - the bloodthirsty denizens that accompanied the new shards of reality were always deadly. No life was safe. One could either kill the monsters, or be wiped out. There was no compromise. And so, they hunted whatever broke into their lands.
Finally, they were the keepers - holding the secret knowledge and powers that came with the job. The knights knew what their masters told them. They also experienced the reality as they battled for their life day after day. They kept the worries away from the masses letting them live and die in blissful ignorance, or so they were told. Keeping had always been the hardest.
As the wood cracked, the flame turned from orange to an otherworldly silver. Aldy, the youngest by far, jumped up and stabbed the long poker deep into the fire. As he pulled it out, a large steaming sack came out and the fire slowly turned back to the usual.
The knights salivated, their stiffness replaced with anticipation. The heavenly smell intensified as the leather sack was opened.
But, before they could dig in, someone else entered the clearing. Someone sneaky and powerful enough to evade the enhanced senses of a full squad.
"Aldy, your lord father requires your presence urgently. Follow me."
The slim figure came into Aldy's view. Clad in camo, she didn't stop while speaking, instead taking out a spoon and scooping out the ground meat and roots from the sack. The sack that had just been in Aldy's grip.
He sighed. "What is it about?"
"You are to attend the Academy."
'Finally.'