Although I have penned a book listing heroes and villains, please take attention that the line between them isn’t nearly as clear-cut as many would like to believe. Gone are the days of paragons of good and manifestations of evil. The hero cleaves just as the villain cleaves: the only difference is who stands on the other end and how loved they are. It is also for this reason that I have not explicitly categorised the entrants in my book as that is for you to do with your own judgement.
Stefan Sommer - the Chronicler - Heroes and Villains of the First Age
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With the agonizing pain clawing at his chest, Silas couldn’t stay unconscious for long, and he roused moments after he collapsed. Hearing the dismal groans of the vanquished and seeing the bloody floor below him, he knew he hadn’t passed away into heaven just yet. While his body was wounded in several areas, worst of all the wedge torn out of his breast, he still had a smidge of energy to fight on with, so he scrambled up and snatched his spear, scanning the hall with a swift turn of his head as he tried to get back up to speed.
He recalled how Nicon had taken control of him with a single touch and forced him to fight, and eventually murder, Laerdya while the Tempter himself had made a getaway. For this reason, Silas expected his immediate goal to be chasing down Nicon, but instead he found the brown shaerd nearby, cowering under Amara’s steely gaze. Her stomach was still bleeding from his puncture wound, but she appeared to care little of it in that moment. She pointed a regal finger at her former lover, speaking slowly and softly but catching the attention of all who remained in the hall. “By our decree, this one is to be executed at once.”
“No, princess, no. You love me, remember - we were one together. Don’t do this to me!” Nicon howled back.
She glared at him with royal disdain, the same one that she had repeatedly coloured Silas with. “It is already unjust that you receive such a swift death for your abhorrent crimes, far better would it be that you rotted to your death. Alas, you are too dangerous for us to keep around, so take this great mercy and begone, you hideous beast. At least we shall rest easy afterwards knowing that the Knowing Spirit shall judge you truly and fully.”
Silas watched her pass judgement with guilty pleasure, relieved the Tempter had finally reached the end of the line. However, his grin dimmed just as quickly when he realised he would be next on the chopping block. Although he and Mia had been correct in their suspicions, they had also inadvertently caused a grisly bloodbath which likely took away all the shaerds’ goodwill towards them and more. With this in mind, Silas cursed under his breath and glanced about once more, frantically searching for an escape route.
The doorway to the throne room was still wide open, but there were also soldiers streaming in through it. Fortunately, he wasn’t working alone as Bandit lay some strides away from him, looking worse for the wear with far more black to its coat than before. It stank of scorched feathers and burnt flesh, and its electric eyes regarded him with thick irritation but fortunately not hostility. Silas couldn’t spot Mia no matter how hard he looked, although he recalled her being well and alive on her last sighting, so hopefully that meant she had made a quick escape since then.
Clicking his tongue at the owl, he was about to gesture a grand escape plan when instead the spotlight swivelled onto him. “Human, we grant upon you the honour to carry out our decree,” Amara said, her soldiers swarming around her, forming a protective circle. They glowered at him, although he recalled they had killed their kin with just as much gusto as he had.
“Him? Him?!” Nicon screeched, appearing as if he would tear his hair out if he had any. Perhaps he would tear his horn off instead. “He ruined everything for us, Amara, everything. If not for him—”
“—we would still be under your sway. He is a hero for recognising the truth of the matter and acting upon it…” The princess paused as her eyes drifted over Laerdya’s body, riddled with wounds and slick with purple blood. Sorrow seeped into Amara’s face, but she managed to keep it together. “… although perhaps not the one we would have wished for. Regardless, it is fitting he finishes this ugliest of matters.”
“Uh, yes, of course,” Silas said in a hurry, adding, “Your Highness,” after a moment. In truth, he couldn’t care less about her sovereignty or the honour she was granting him, but he was growing increasingly distressed by the sheer number of soldiers coming in through the entrance. Clio had said before that the fort housed two hundred troops in total, and it seemed they were all rushing here now after having heard the clamour of violence. And with that, his hopes of an easy escape were dashed against the solid, unfeeling walls.
On the other hand, Nicon finally appeared to accept his fate as he no longer appealed to Her Highness, instead snarling at his executioner like a rabid dog, eyes glinting with madness. “I gave you everything you wanted, human, everything,” he said, voice cracking with wretched emotion. “Why didn’t you just leave with your brother? Why did you return to stake my head for this ungrateful bitch?” Before he could mouth off anymore, Silas speared him through the throat, stabbing right through his words. Then, the Duellist swiped across the neck to separate the head, in case Amara truly did want to stake it.
Although the princess had called him a hero (of sorts), he knew he was far from being worthy of such a title. Nicon truly had shown him mercy yesterday in the bedroom, letting him live and giving his brother back in return for an easy life. Only that Silas had wanted more, no, needed more, which had led to this unfortunate situation where he beheaded his benefactor. There were no saints on Idroa, only villains who occasionally played nice, and Silas was beginning to think that perhaps he was one of them, taking what he wanted and slaughtering all who stood in his way. Then again, if this was the only way of protecting those he cared about, then he was willing to embrace the role in its entirety.
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Sighing, he turned on the spot and faced Amara again, wondering what his fate was to be now. If it was to be snuffed, then he resolved to take as many of her damned kin with him as he no longer held any faith in escaping here. Perhaps Bandit still could though, so he clicked his tongue at the owl once more and gestured it to leave without glancing over. At least Mia had gotten away before them; at least she could look after Ethan for him.
Just as this thought crossed his mind and a small smile graced his face, Mia called out from above, and he felt his heart lurch out of his ribcage. Peering up, he spotted her then lying atop of a skylight and nearly cried tears of blood at the sight: what was she still doing here when she had every chance to escape? Didn’t she understand that he was already a goner and that she would be too if she remained? “Princess, can you, uh, let the others into the fort now? When we came here, we really did mean to save you, not cause this clash: we just didn’t expect Nicon to be so strong.”
“None of us did, child.” Amara glanced up and then exhaled deeply. “But you are right and we admit it, we have been unjust in barring your kind and even our own subjects from finding refuge in our walls. As such, hear us now and heed our call, troops: your’s is the mission to set off immediately to the village and bring back everyone you can with haste. If the warnings of the vermin are in any way truthful, then your actions now may prevent another massacre from occurring.”
Although her soldiers certainly heard her order, they regardless took their time in departing, most of their delay coming about because of their fear of the three dangerous aliens remaining in the princess’s presence. She still had thirty protecting her, but they had seen and heard what these aliens could do, so it was only after considerable hesitation that they left to follow her command.
While they went about rounding up the humans and cracked, Silas and Bandit were tended to by shaerd surgeons. Due to the shaerd’s general inability to use magic, especially while on Xiivet, they had developed rather advanced medicine, so the man and owl were well seen to. In addition, this time the soldiers disarmed not only Silas but also themselves when they were in his vicinity, fearing that he would lasso another weapon to himself as he had done so in the throne room. At least this way they could grapple him down if he tried something, and the threat of their violence was enough to keep him idle.
Mia had left some time ago after recovering a bit, saying that the humans would still distrust the shaerd after all that had happened over the last few weeks. However, if she also went along and explained the recent developments, then everything would go far more smoothly. As such, although Silas wanted to leave the second he was adequately bandaged up, intending to collect Ethan, he didn’t need to as the hubbub of voices reached him from the courtyard. Peering down from his balcony, he saw a handful of humans and a few dozen shaerd, all entering through the gates. As the minutes passed, more followed, and in all, near fifty humans and a hundred and something unarmed shaerd, mainly brown-skinned cracked, filled the courtyard.
None of them looked healthy, all whip-thin with visible bones and harried expressions, but Silas was glad to see them all the same since they were the fruits of his and Mia’s rushed and reckless plan. He grew further delighted when he saw Ethan and Olivia within the fort’s walls, unharmed and content. Clio also appeared after a while, much to Silas’s surprise as he had thought the dark blue shaerd dead. Instead, it turned out Nicon had been consistent in administering lenient punishments; just like he had let Silas run scot-free, he had only imprisoned Clio instead of executing her. It seemed the cracked had naively thought he could keep his life as peaceful as possible by putting out as few fires as he could, not understanding until it was too late that some fires were better extinguished early on, even if it meant taking a hit then. It was a lesson Silas himself had learnt not long before.
Either way, those gathered in courtyard didn’t get more than a couple of minutes of peace following the emergency evacuation when the ratkin finally marched upon the village, seeping through its streets from every angle in a comprehensive attack. The humans and shaerds watched from the walls as the vermin razed buildings and cut down anyone too slow in the coming, slowly but surely winding their way up to the fort. In all, Silas estimated three hundred to four hundred ratkin in the area, including several sorcerers and many bands of armoured infantry.
On verifying that the attack was as real and sweeping as they had warned, Amara ordered Clio, Silas, and Mia to follow her, taking them to her bedroom where she revealed what Nicon had been trying to get to. Out of all the finely carved sculptures there, the largest one was of Amara herself, and it had a secret mechanism as it shifted across the floor when she clicked her fingers, revealing a trapdoor.
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Sophie Chandler, the Demolitionist, was originally a bomb disposal technician from Wales. After scouring the extreme tutorial thoroughly, she found ingredients with properties she was familiar with. Fusing them together, trialling extensively for the right combinations, she created explosive bombs which she used to clear the tutorial with. Coming to Idroa, although she no longer had access to the ingredients she had experimented on, her chosen class allowed her to form powerful bombs out of mana. After wandering and slaughtering for a lengthy period, she settled down in Brightmoor, Lucian Grimes’s, the Warlord’s, city. There, he recognised her talent almost immediately and quickly raised her as one of his five captains.
Out of them, she is best known for the devastating damage she can dish out on their foes. Because of the resources afforded to her position, she eventually started research on explosives and not long after began the production of wholesale bombs for Brightmoor’s army. This massively expanded their destructive potential and allowed for greater conquests.
Stefan Sommer - the Chronicler - Heroes and Villains of the First Age