-------- Somewhere in the Western Isles --------------------
Princess Diana looked at the little girl walking across the deck. The girl had bright blue eyes and equally blue hair. Her face was adorned by a wide grin, making her look like a mischievous schoolgirl. Despite the cuteness, the girl radiated, Diana wasn’t smiling, no she was collapsed on the floor in a yellow puddle of her own making. She let her eyes wander from the little girl to the deck of what had been her flagship. There, pieces of her men were strewn about. Pieces. Just lumps were all that was left of the crew she had put together. Each one recruited carefully over the course of her lifetime. Her friends. Her family. All now rendered into simple chunks of meat.
Diana looked back towards the monster which had done all this. The little girl. Immediately Diana regretted her decision as the girl’s eyes met her own, those terrifying twin pits of despair locked onto her. The little girl's playful grin slowly widened until it split her face in half making a horrifying sound of tearing flesh and crunching bone. Just when it seemed the girl was about to eat Diana whole, the monster’s eyes opened as if coming across a realization. Quick as it had emerged the horrifying smile faded and the previously smiling girl was now showing a pouting face.
“Hmrph. Why do you have to be one of Papa’s chosen? Fluma’s too unlucky.” The little girl crossed her arms as her pouting became more severe. If one just took into account her appearance as a little girl one would think she was a kid who just had their candy stolen and was about to cry from frustration.
Diana didn’t respond to the monster talking to itself instead electing to sit in her puddle shaking uncontrollably. Her mind had checked out long ago.
Fluma took one last look at the prey she was forced to leave behind before jumping off the boat channeling sea water around her, crafting her new body to become that of a massive wingless sea dragon. It could be called a sea serpent but the bulky form Fluma chose to take on looked far more like a mountain sized bloated crocodile than anything else.
Soon after Fluma left, Diana’s completely zoned-out mind managed to perceive sails in the distance. As they drew closer she saw what had until recently belonged to that of her most hated enemy. The Kiolites' Green Trident. But now Diana couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness seeing the symbol. It meant she would likely be able to find death soon and she could wake up from this nightmare.
---
“What you’ve captured Diana?” A mustached man wearing a ridiculously large admiral’s hat exclaimed causing his epaulettes to bounce up in down.
“Yes my Lord Admiral, but..” A sailor still saluting hesitated to continue.
“But what? Even with a large loss of life it’s worth it if we captured Diana. Kiolites can once more return to being at peace throughout the Western Isles.” The admiral encouraged.
“But she willingly surrendered.” The sailor managed to sputter out.
“Sur-surrendered?” The admiral stopped himself from choking in shock. “ But what of her fleet or abilities.”
“When we found her she was on the only ship left afloat in the area although there were enough wrecks in the area one could imagine it was all that remained of her fleet.”
“...did she say what happened.” The Admiral was showing a somber demeanor now. He knew any threat which could easily handle Diana was not a far jump away from easily handling his own forces.
“No, she just mumbles one word to herself whenever she’s conscious.”
“What word sailor? Are you going to have me make you spit it out!”
The sailor audibly gulped before answering. “Monster.”
------------------ 12 Years Old ---------------
A twelve-year-old Avior looked across the schoolyard at three of his fellow students laughing internally as he relished in an event that happened every attempt he decided to spend his early years at home with his mother.
“Avior you didn’t know what was good for yah.” A lanky brown-haired thirteen-year-old groupie spurted as he stood beside another child.
“You can only blame yourself for what’s gonna happen to yah.” A chubby twelve-year-old brown-haired boy spoke with disdain while sparing glances to his right looking for approval.
“We told you to tell Christina off, but we saw you giggling with her today. You really are taking what I said too lightly.” Said a fit black-haired fourteen-year-old glaring across the schoolyard at Avior.
Avior just wore a shit-eating grin as if he couldn’t get enough of this moment. Not even saying a word.
“Fine, you asked for it.” The black-haired boy known as Atticus came running forward with his lackeys close behind.
Finally, Avior thought as he allowed himself to get hit in his face, using magic to scratch and discolor his face creating the illusion of a growing bruise as his body fell to the dirt. Atticus’ lackeys then joined in throwing punches and kicks at Avior’s stomach and face as he lay there seemingly defenseless. Avior was working his magic well making every hit of theirs against his body paint an ever more disastrous scene. Quickly visible bruises, scrapes, and cuts spread turning his skin akin to a spoiled piece of fruit.
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“Avior!” A shrill feminine voice broke through the din of the bullies kicking Avior’s flesh.
“Christina!” Atticus replied in a shocked tone.
“Atticus what are yo-”Christina’s angry high pitched voice was cut off as a burst of weak flames erupted from Avior’s collapsed body.
The tiny flames struck the bullies around him not causing much damage other than some small burns, but the boys and Christina all reacted like they had seen a ghost.
Atticus was the first to respond. “FUCK! He’s a mage! Run!!!” Atticus took off like a scared rabbit with his two compatriots following close behind leaving only an awed Christina and a boy who looked so badly beaten many would think it a miracle he was still conscious.
Finally, the frozen Christina sprung to action. “Avior stay awake!” She cried as she rushed over to him trying to get his unfocused eyes to stay on her. Christina had always heard how an awakening of a mage was a dangerous event, many died because they used more mana than available to them causing them to accidentally substitute their very flesh as fuel for their magic.
Christina continued to cry “Avior stay with me, stay with me!” repeatedly, as if stuck in a trance as she tightly clutched Avoirs face in her hands. Still smiling, although no one would be able to tell through his inflamed face, Avior who always purposefully kept his mana empty truly overexerted himself for once as he sent an invisible stream of mana into the brunette crying over him before truly passing out. To someone who had lived too many lifetimes to count how could he not truly commit himself to his role in his favorite play?
Christina saw Avior’s eyes close and began to fall into despair when suddenly a rush of cold energy began coursing through her body. She didn’t know what it was but somehow at this moment she instinctively knew how to use it as she began channeling it into the unconscious boy before her. To her shock she watched Avior’s terrifyingly pale face regain some color. Too focused to realize what was happening she pushed all of the mysterious energy within her into the unconscious boy. And soon, she too found herself passing out and collapsing on the schoolyard grass.
------------A Few Days Later In The Village---------------
When Christina woke up she found the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling above her. Before she could ponder more; however, a rush of pain hit her and she fell back into a sea of dreams.
Christina continued waking up momentarily before passing back out. Every once in a while when she opened her eyes she’d see the familiar face of Avior’s mother putting a cold poultice on her forehead or feeding her a terrible-tasting liquid. Slowly Christina was able to stay conscious longer and longer. Stretching from just a moment, to a few seconds, and then tens of seconds. She managed to gather she was in Avior’s home being tended to by his mother, which made her blush for some reason. Every once in a while she would see a man dressed in a fancy robe who would accompany Avior’s mother in treating Christina. Only this man didn’t use the cold cloths or badly-tasting medicine Avior’s mother used. Instead, Christina would watch as he put a single finger on her forehead before a familiar coldness enveloped her.
Eventually, with the care of these two Christina began to try and move her head during her slowly growing periods of consciousness. Through much struggle she had managed to spot an unconscious Avior lying in his bed through an open doorway as well as her mother, father, or brother occasionally who would always try to rush over to her from where they were sitting before she lost consciousness again.
After the course of months, Christina finally woke up to see a grinning Avior standing next to her. At that moment, Christina was too happy to notice more cold energy rushing into her, and would forever think simply the sight of Avior being healthy broke the spell of her fever.
That day Christiana managed to stay awake for hours. She even managed to croak out her first few words to her family and Avior. She even met Glendale, the robed mage who had been helping to treat her while she was unconscious. Glendale said that their level of magic talent, especially Christina’s, was enough to be accepted into the Hervalle Magic Academy despite their commoner status. He offered to teach them on the journey there before recommending them. Although there were no guarantees he seemed to be confident Christina and Avior would be admitted.
Christina knew this was a golden opportunity, but felt reluctant to leave her family behind. Looking at the smiling boy next to her though she couldn’t help but be enveloped in warm feelings as she thought of them both journeying to the Academy together.
Just a few days later with both her family’s and Avior’s mother’s blessing the two of them accompanied Glendale on his return trip to the Hervalle Magic Academy. Christina learned although Avior seemed to have some talent for awakening early on his own his magical capacity seemed very weak. In contrast, Glendale said with Christina’s capacity and the uncanny pace she learned new patterns of spells she would be counted among some of Hervalle Academy’s most talented.
Upon hearing Glendale’s conjectures about Avior’s poor talent and ability Christina silently vowed she would always protect the boy who had been forced to risk his own life due to her carelessness. She would always watch over him. As she thought about Avior she glanced over at the young boy in question who seemed to be lost in thought after hearing Glendale’s assessment of him.
Little did she know Avior wasn’t the least bit concerned about his supposed “poor aptitude for magic.” Instead he was fixated on a completely different topic. As his thoughts swirled around a specific line Glendale had said. She’s just able to be counted among their most talented?? Avior questioned. Did he screw something up with her awakening this time? No that’s impossible. But then why would Glendale’s assessment of her have changed so drastically from when Avior has taken this path before in other lives.
Back then, Glendale upon seeing and reporting Christina’s talent to the Academy had brought a procession of Elders even including the Headmaster of the Academy themselves to Avior’s village to accompany Christina. Her talent was hailed as unspeakably vast, a student of infinite potential. The old foggies had practically thrown themselves at her gifting her with whatever they could to try and win the twelve-year-old girl's favor. Hoping that once she grew into the indomitable mage she was destined to be she would return the favor. Avior couldn’t understand how Christina could go from “strongest awakening in existence” to “just another elite student.” It was unfathomable.
Avior began to think of what he could have done to cause this. Had it been one of his creations? But they were all playing small time. And even then Fluma and Arden, the ones he had the most hope for, were on different continents. The only person who was in the Hervalle Empire was his first servant Bastian, but Avior seriously doubted that coward could have created so much of a splash. Oh well, it was probably some kind of unexpected butterfly effect Avior decided, forgoing more pondering until he was able to get a clearer picture of what had been happening within the Hervalle Empire while he'd been tooling around in his home village.