The moon glows bright as the battle rages on in the clearing, and all time seems to slow down as Lunde falls to the ground. The Corrupted flees quickly after just having stabbed him with his talons and the doctor desperately rushes to aid the mortally wounded Lunde.
“L—de—…Lu—nd—! Hol— On—”
Screaming voices of concern fade in and out. Along with the blood loss, pain is slowly leaving Lunde as a comforting yet eerie coldness fills him. Lunde’s eyes slowly close and his consciousness nears oblivion as Kuran holds him in his arms whilst shouting for assistance. A couple of soldiers and scouts quickly close their distance to them, even while being attacked by their assailants.
With the little of Lunde’s consciousness left in the darkness, he mutters a single name, “Ember.” and the world disappears.
For a while.
The newly-awoken pink, blue, and orange sunrise shines over the sky at dawn, revealing a grassy field on top of a mountain high up in the clouds.
The mountain emits a sort of steam from the sides where there are geyser holes. The mist swirls with the clouds, creating a mystic yet lively atmosphere. The field contains a courtyard marked with symbols that looks like a playing field for sports. Weapons and armor, made up of various materials from metals to fibers, fill the crates and containers near the bleacher seats at the side. At the field’s backdrop, there are numerous brick houses and brick castles on other similar looking mountains, both on the mountaintops and on the mountainsides. Tribal patterns stand out amongst the stones, bricks, and cloth covers everywhere in those areas. Energetic and active-like swirls and dashes glow in the early sun’s light.
Walking up stairs that lead to the field is a timid-looking blue-haired scholar, who adjusts his eye-glasses and is constantly distracted by the sights high up in the skies and in the peaks during the sunrise. It is a younger Lunde, ever the bright-eyed.
A figure dashes past by him as he gets nudged to the side by a strong wind trail they left behind. It is a younger Ember, smiling widely back at the young Lunde with her fiery eyes, hair, and grin.
They slowly make it to the center of the field, preparing some training gear they brought in their bags, as someone calls out to them.
“Another early morning for trainin. Glad to see you young uns were never late nor missed a day” says an aged voice from an elderly figure that comes out from a tent at the side of the playing field.
The much older figure appears to be an old lady hunched over in a thick traditional robe, wearing a headdress of feathers and bones, and bearing the same skin texture and dragon-like appearance of Ember. As a much older person however, her scales and spikes are longer, rougher, and more distinct, but they are in a darker shading and coloring compared to Ember’s. Her eyes look almost closed, but she appears to be able to see and knows where Lunde and Ember are standing as she turns towards their direction.
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“What do you expect, Granny Smuldra? I’m a chip off of my parents, and your very own block!” Ember proudly replies. “Our Dragonkin clan, the Prominence-Hearts, will always be bright and burning! And Lunde—” Ember says, as she holds his shoulder.
“Uh, sorry, w-what?” a surprised Lunde asks, not having been paying attention much, still distracted by the vibrant views from the mountaintop.
“I’m surprised you kept us with us. It’s been months training here with us at Swirlwyrm Peaks, and you managed to climb mountains every day. For an Auran, that’s impressive. You probably have some Dragonkin in you too!” Ember remarks.
“Well, I don’t know about that, but these are things you have to do to become a Sentio Knight. This is part of my apprenticeship and it’s been tough. But I’m thankful for your assistance so far as the overseers of my training, Granny Smuldra and Ember. I should be grateful now, I imagine it will get worse along the way when I really become a Sentio Knight.” Lunde says. His long ears also bend down a bit as he awkwardly jokes about the last part. “Nice views, though.” he continues, but then glances back at Ember.
His heart starts to flutter a little, as he has seen Ember plenty of different times, but something is different as she praises him under this colorful sunrise.
“Well, don’t get distracted too much. I’m going to be on a winning streak again today for each trial you’ll have to face. You’re not a Sentio Knight yet, but I’m not gonna take it easy on you!” Ember replies, with her morale up so high she might as be one of the mountains in this range.
“Alright, stop yer bickerin ya eggheads. Get in ta position, we’re wastin sacred daylight!” Smuldra says, gesturing them to move to the center of the training ground.
A few hours pass on the training area on the mountaintop. Lunde and Ember are still going through the regimens with full energy. The skies are fair, and the sun is almost directly above them. In the distance, a group of smaller dragon-like creatures fly up high in the sky.
“Alright nutbrains, it’s time to practice summoning illusions of yerselves! And that sorta magic to conjure up a decent clone comes from none otha than the emotion of confidence, the Fidente Art!” Smuldra shouts. “Ember, lets see ya demonstrate it for Lundy boy here!”
“No sweat, gran!” Ember yells back. “Fidente Art: Self-Image!”
She steps forward and summons flames from her hands that gather and create a near-identical clone of herself. It vanishes into a puff of flames after getting hit by a rock thrown by Granny Smuldra.
“Well done, granddaughter! Now, Lunde, you need to make it convincin or else the enemy will know what’s up. Yer turn!”
Lunde breathes in and attempts to cast the spell. “Fidente Art: Self Image—”
Magic energies gather in front of Lunde, but something goes wrong internally. Lunde senses it, it’s like gas in the stomach that can’t escape through flatulence. In his mind, he forgoes himself and instead thinks of Ember. He then turns his gaze at her, as she looks at him with such trust and confidence, the type of confidence where you just know the sun is sure to rise and set each day. Feelings of love and affection rise in his heart, and the magic forces finally release from within.
A near-identical magic clone of Ember is created instead.
“What in tarnation—” Granny Smuldra says out loud, baffled at what happened.
Lunde gets paralyzed by the embarrassment, while Ember’s surprised face grows more reddish by the second.
A flood of laughter follows as Granny Smuldra eventually realizes what went through Lunde’s casting of the spell. Her laugher goes far into the sky, and perhaps beyond the sun that is exactly above them all.
“Well, that certainly wasn’t Fidente…my granddaughter can’t date yet by the way. Not if I can help it!” Smuldra says in a protective yet joking way and continues cackling.
Both Lunde and Ember’s faces turn as red as carefully cultivated and freshly picked tomatoes.