It was a hot midsummer morning and not a single cloud in the sky over the beautiful countryside of Conde Petie, a peaceful and relatively quiet area located in the larger country of Lindblum. Lush forests and fields swayed with the breeze surrounding Mt. Cleyra. Shepherds lead their flocks to the foot of the mountain during the early parts of the morning in hopes of fattening their beasts for the yievest celebrations, feasts, and faires. The simplicity of their lives was a blessing and various songs of praise to the gods and thanks to the mountain could be heard carried along with the sylphs and wind.
The people of a small village nestled beyond the woods of the mountain were going about their everyday lives; baking, cooking, cleaning, and then repeating the next day. The scents of meal preparation wafted through the air. Peace and prosperity was all that many of these villagers had ever known. To some, it might seem very mundane, but to these people, the peaceful repetition was not welcomed after the terrors and trials of their past. Where evil and tribulations had once dwelled in multitude now resided only comfort and warmth.
Little did they know that would change with a sudden crack of lightning atop the very mountain their lives surrounded. An ominous wind picked up and dark clouds appeared without warning-- swirling about the top of the mountainside like vultures about a dying beast.
As the worry passed from the lips of one to another, the people slowly and hesitantly made their ways towards the mountain where the source of the magically charged incident occurred. If they possessed them, the villagers would gather up their weapons or anything that they might use to defend themselves against what may come next. Criers went about the town and countryside to warn their fellow people of what may mean danger or death. A sudden snow storm would pick up during this time-- more questions being asked than answers being given..
A black-clad woman sat in her tranquil home on the outskirts of the small town drinking a cup of tea when the tingling feeling of a powerful presence shook her body to the core. She felt her gut sink to the floor at the quick realization of what it meant and rushed outside to observe as the area was covered in a thin, dark shroud that lingered as a clear sign of the nature of what was occurring. She reached just barely inside the door to her humble abode for two items: a weapon that resembled a miniature spear with a crystalline tip rather than a metallic one, and a tiny buckler - only as wide as her open palm - which bound itself to her left arm without the apparent need for a strap of any kind. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she attempted to steady herself before rushing towards the base of the mountain with magically-enhanced agility.
The citizens, namely those with knowledge of the events of years past and able-bodied, all assembled at the foot of the mountain-- twenty or so strong-- bearing arms and frightened expressions. They whispered amongst themselves words of worry and despair, and the youngest among them sighed in relief when the woman brandishing her spear and buckler approached from the forest to the west, ready for battle. The eldest, however, still felt uneasy.
“Has anything come out of the mountain?” Asked the woman to an older couple that sat at the front of the pack, brandishing weathered swords and shields.
“Hopefully nothing will.” Answered the hopeful man.
“As if lady luck layeth by our side as of late.” Answered his partner, a man thrice as old but with looks much more youthful.
“Lady Freya, dost thou believe mine concern well-founded?” He continued, addressing the gal that stood before them, whose hands trembled even as they spoke.
She readied an answer and parted her lips, but only a staggering noise came out as she saw a small figure slowly walk out from the darkness of the cavernous complex that ran to the core of the mountain, staff in hand, a devilish smile on his unblemished face.
The man stopped just outside the cave and took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of fresh forest air for the first time in ages. He turned his gaze upwards and his smile was immediately tugged upside down as he found the current weather absolutely abysmal and even wondered if that hell had followed him all the way through space and dimensions. He tapped his staff twice to the grassy ground beneath him and the crystalline tip glowed gently, the dark clouds and stormy weather dissipating in a matter of instants, the man’s expression softening in mood as the sun touched his pale skin. He relished in the feeling. His eyes welled up as he gazed upwards, trees shaking in the wind at both his sides. The noise of rustling leaves drowned out even his own thoughts. A few tears streamed down his face, and for once, they didn’t burn his skin. The people only a short distance away from him, however, still carried frightened expressions on their faces, clearly wary of this man, some even recognizing his form and emerald orbs from ages past.
Freya’s slight frame shook in her armour. She had only heard tales of this man from the people she considered her family. Her eyes turned violet as her nerves became as tough at the steel within her now drawn spear. The crystalline blade at the end glowed as bright as an earthly star before she launched herself head-first at the small man. Though some might think that her armour might hinder her movement, she moved as if she were made of the very air that she breathed. The magicks within her very being carried her as quick as lightning into the sky-- much too quickly for those who were unaware of such magicks might see.
Seconds later, she plummeted from the heavens with her spear leading way down-- pointed and fully prepared to kill the man she was now suddenly just above. It seemed that she would have the upperhand as he appeared that he didn't bother to move or search for her. Was one so powerful as him so daft as to not take heed of such a display of power? In her mind, she laughed at the fact that even though he was to be so feared was much too slow for her attacks. Her heart sang in the chorus of the wind that she had nearly become one with as the tip of the spear made contact.
“I have you now, fiend! May you rot in the deepest pits of hell! The minstrels shall sing of your demise for centuries to come!”
The woman’s gloating was immediately put to an end when she realized that she was being suspended in midair above the man-- her entire being frozen and finding it impossible to move. The tip of her spear that she had thought made contact with the top of his skull had instead made contact with a tiny fingertip. If she could move in the slightest, she might have screamed in unrequited anger and resentment, but she could only stare down at him with her eyes slowly returning to their normal hues. Before the magicks formerly coursing through her veins was bound by the same spell to froze her midair, she noticed that the man had thrown up a barrier invisible to the normal eye. Even if he hadn’t used his magic to levitate her, the shield would have protected him and quite possibly hurt her in the process. A small growl bubbled from within her throat as the hopelessness of the situation began to sink in.
A bored expression suddenly turned up towards her as he tilted his chin up to gaze upon her. Blood streamed from where the sharpness met tender skin, and he lifted his eyebrows, sucking on the blood shortly after. “Good quality. Who made it for you?” He spouted with legitimate curiosity as he released Freya with a controlled blast of magic that was clearly not meant to hurt her. He’d barely moved a finger to do so, and she took a defensive position as soon as she landed, raising her buckler which formed a powerful energetic shield which covered most of her body, confused and yet ready for the worst. She stared silently at him, cold sweat covering her body.
He stared at her for a few more seconds, still sucking on his bleeding thumb, still awaiting an answer. When he realized one wasn’t coming, he took a few steps calm steps forward and spouted with a boisterous tone: “You clearly didn’t make it. Too young, too inexperienced.” He paused for a brief moment, trying to assess why the woman refused to answer him, seemingly entirely oblivious to the mass of terrified people she protected.
“Ah! I’m sorry, is it a personal story? I didn’t mean to intrude. My apologies.” With an overly-flourished bow, he spoke in a charming yet condescending manner suited more for a lord speaking to peasants,“I forget my manners.” The woman seemed even more confused by the man’s words, but was taught not to be tricked by such wicked tactics by her forebears. Her shield and spear stood at the ready and though she was unsure how effective further attacks would be, she was taught to never give up. She refused to give in to such a revolting and dangerous being-- no matter how well-spoken and charming.
“His very words can be like poison.” A voice from her past reminded her, and so she kept her silence, smothering his words out of her head with a well-practised mantra. She lunged at him once more, her body shaking, but the ground quivered and shattered at the impact of strong legs and odd magicks launching her into the air like a comet through the night sky. Without warning, she suddenly plunged downwards from the heavens on high, body pointed downwards at her target of the small man, the sharpened end of the spear aimed to pierce him through; skull first. When her initial thrust failed to connect with its target, she proceeded to stab multiple times with blinding speed, hoping that a continued onslaught might break her opponent’s defence. It would be nigh impossible for any normal person to endure her practised and deadly attacks… Alas, he was no ordinary man.
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She was undeniably mistaken. He was still unmoving and his staff still sat idly by his side as his eyes followed every movement she did with ease. He seemed impressed by her speed and skill, but even the full effort of years of honing her skills and preparation wasn’t enough to even make her opponent budge an inch. Her flurry of attacks were in vain and when that thought crossed her mind, she knew that she had lost before she had even begun. So with the disappointment and fear in mind, she launched herself backwards with a graceful flip.
She looked around, half-expecting something terrible to have already come to pass, but it seemed that all was well with the world-- save for those who continued to stay and watch as their main protector was powerless against the man. She was even more terrified by the fact that it hadn’t, feeling as if the worst was yet to come. Her instincts howled like a pack of wolves in the back of her mind; fear bubbling up like a kettle left too long over the mantle. Was the peace that had reigned for so many years now to come to a sudden and inexplicable end? Could it be that this was the price they all must pay for these past years of lax preparation?
The man finally looked beyond his myopic focus on the struggle with his adversary and noticed the huddled, scared villagers keeping their distance from the ‘battle’. His brows knitted together as he attempted to understand the situation. “Am I… trespassing on holy ground of some sort? Has this place changed so much since my departure? Or have I been taken somewhere else entirely?” He spouted out in a chaotic train of thought which he’d ordinarily keep to himself, but being in a particularly bright and sunny mood, he did not attempt to hold himself back. He touched one hand to his chin and held his elbow with the other hand, his staff hovering in the air beside him by itself. “I suppose any of those could be correct. We’ll rule out the most obvious first, of course; tell me, young one, is this not Mount Cleyra I’ve just come out of?”
His bout of nonsense was met by Freya with the response it most likely should. She looked at him as if he’d spoken in an entirely different language; baffled by how this man could be so oblivious to the threat his presence posed. “You’ll find none here will fall for your foolish tricks. Least of all me.” She answered as she continued to hold her ground, watching for any sign that he might finally be on the offensive.
“I’m… Sorry?” He replied while squinting his eyes at her and those behind her. Were they honestly so foolish to assume that his return would be so foreboding?
“We hoped you wouldn’t return and yet here you stand, fiend.” Her words were like venom spat out before him and caused him to blink in both confusion and distaste. “I’ve been told much about you and your devilry. How you’d have us all perish just to sate your thirst for magic. Even if you might dispose of me here, there will be others to stop you. Just like before.”
“S… Stop me?” He stuttered, seeming to be legitimately confused. “From doing what, exactly?” He continued after a pause and a giggle. His voice then dripped with sarcasm as he continued, “Going about living my best life? Oh, the plans I have. They’re surely magnanimous.”
Hearing his ambiguous words as much more of a clear taunt than playful banter, she gritted her teeth and stiffened her stance, readying for his attack as he laughed at his own words and begun to stride forward in her direction at a calm pace, tiny legs making his walk seem more goofy than menacing, even given the situation.
“N-not a step further!” Freya said in an attempt to halt the man’s progress, but he didn’t so much as ignore her as he did dismiss her threats entirely; even using a single finger to push away the spear held out towards him in warning as if he were merely shooing away a fly. Her body to face him as he walked past her with not a worry in the world. She seemed even more confused now, and as he walked through the small crowd that previously watched the fight from afar, they made way for him to walk between them, confused and scared expressions in each of their faces. Some even turned to look at Freya in confusion and bewilderment, but she had no words of comfort or encouragement to give them.
After passing the crowd, he suddenly stopped, remembering something important. He nonchalantly turned around at the startled crowd and asked with a polite tone, “Excuse me, my fine folk, but is there anywhere nearby I might be able to enjoy a nice cup of tea? I must say that I’m quite parched after my journey.”
The people looked at each other, debating whether it was a legitimate request or some twisted method of torture. One of the younger ones, a lady with feline features-- such as ears and a tail-- chose to reply, “We’ve a tavern of sorts near the centre of town. They probably have tea there.”
He smiled and as he raised a fist in celebration, but the people shuddered in fear and anticipation of what may be their demise. “Splendid! I shall head there posthaste.” He said before turning around and resuming his walk, which went on at a brisk pace, as if excited for what was to come. Freya came running after witnessing that strange scene, asking the folk what he’d said. She looked on as he went away, choosing to follow him from a distance as this strange day had just become tenfold stranger.
He followed his gut as to where to find the tavern. He managed to find it without much trouble, as it was advertised from a distance with a large wooden sign that was common to most such establishments in this world. The regular townsfolk barely batted an eye at his presence, blissfully unaware of his identity. People of his kind and kin were common in these parts, and he was met with a polite and gentle greeting by an attendant as he sat down at one of the tables near the corner. He unloaded his backpack to one of the other chairs and leaned back with a pleased sigh. “Can I have a cup of green tea, please?” he asked with a smile. His tail observed his actions from outside, from the corner of a window. He paid her no mind, in a state of bliss as he was eventually handed a cup that had been served from a generously-filled teapot. Calmly smelling the beverage before taking a sip, he seemed beyond content with the current situation. As time went on and he did nought else but drink, Freya grew annoyed and discontent with the situation.
Noticing his pursuer’s growing restlessness, he turned his face towards the window from which she stalked him, head tilted sideways with both brows raised. She was startled and attempted to hide, and was surprised when she tilted back forwards a moment later and he was still staring. She froze, and he pointed an open palm at the empty seat next to him. She looked around, trying to discern if he was indeed inviting her to sit with him. Unsure of what she expected, she looked back at him with a finger pointed at her chest. He nodded as confirmation. She steeled herself, stood upright and walked in, her weapon sheathed and strapped to her belt. If he was bluffing, she thought, it was far too late for caution regardless.
Sitting down at his table next to him, she was swiftly handed a cup filled with tea by the attendant. After a few seconds and a couple of awkward glances from her, he sighed and decided to start the conversation: “Nice town you all have here. I hate to be the one to disrupt your beautiful daily routine. Truly. I apologize.”. He sipped his tea, closing his eyes with a pleased expression every time he did so. She squinted her eyes at his apology, annoyed at the impression that such a dangerous man was going through so much trouble just to seem nice.
“Why are you doing this?”
“What? Drinking tea? Oh, darling, you have absolutely no idea how long I’ve gone without this gift from the heavens. If only you knew how helpful this little drink is.”
“Surely you know that’s not what I mean? You can’t be oblivious to how ridiculous this is.”
“I understand you’re probably wary of people who just pop out of the inside of a place the insides of which seems like more of a… Prison or, tomb, or something along those lines, yes? I’m assuming I was the first one to do so. Big event, not too many people know what’s going on, panic ensues. Hot or cold?”
“Stone-cold. Just how ignorant do you think I am?”
“Not very, considering you’re somewhat attuned with your arcane. I’m serious. Why am I wrong?”
“Me and all of those people who were waiting outside the tomb all know who you are. However, we don’t know how you came back or even how that’s possible. You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Ah. Yes, that accounts for the bit I’m missing. I was killed. Why does that not surprise me?”
“You speak as if you know how something as absurd as that is even possible. I saw your corpse sit in that tomb in the past. I was told you might come back, but I never believed it could come true.”
“Attuned with your arcane, but not quite, I see. I thought others might have figured it out by now, but I guess the distractions of social life don’t allow for…” He began to speak but was interrupted.
“Spare me your ramblings, old man! If you’re going to do something, do it already. Stop wasting my time if death is all you bring in the end regardless.”
He was somewhat taken aback by her more aggressive shift in tone, his eyes shifting hue a few times within a split-second as he looked her more seriously, eye to eye. She shifted back in her seat, startled by such a subtle display of power. “I’m not here to fight you or any of these people, young lady. I understand now that you might have a wrong impression of me or my origins.” He explained as he began to lift from his seat, grabbing a few old, slightly rusted coins from a pocket in his backpack. “I hope these still apply. If they don’t, I trust you’ll be a dear and pay for this old man’s tea?” He spouted as he left the coins in a neat stack on the table before making his way to the door with a sullen expression on his face. She was further confused by his words and actions, beginning to doubt the teachings of a life spent in preparation. She thought to herself this was a perfect example of the manipulation she was taught to expect if he ever made his return to this realm, but he also seemed honest in his words. What the truth would be, she wouldn’t find out unless she endeavoured to shadow his moves as he made his way through the world. And after grabbing her trusty backpack from her cottage, that would be exactly what she would do. If she would be able to do anything were he to choose to go on a rampage was a separate matter, but at the very least she would do her best.