A group of curious children had gathered around his usual table at The Old Anchor. It was a smaller group than usual. Axeas counted and only saw ten of them. Strange. By this hour I’d expected at least thirty of the little fuckers to be here. He sipped from his apple juice and directed himself towards his audience. ‘All right children. With which story can your storyteller humble you today?’ Hands went up faster than the old lord could process. The children shouted their favourite tales, each trying to sound louder than the one next to them. ‘Ashrin Longbeard!’ ‘The saga of Lady Nurnov!’ ‘Young Kell and the five dragons!’ Axeas spotted a child somewhere in the back he hadn’t seen here before. It was a small girl with black hair and bright blue eyes. ‘The tale of the Worldfinder!’, she shouted, disrupting all of the other voices. The inn fell silent. Everyone, including the adult patrons, looked at the girl. Even though the age of war had finished two decades ago, people were still quite sensitive regarding the subject of the Worldfinder. It was a moniker for King Rayne V, lord of Avora and all of its provinces. The Wild Lands might be lawless, as was Tower City, but the king was a topic not many dared to discuss. There was no law against it, of course, but still, one had to watch out. No one knew who or where they were but it was a known fact that the king had spies in Tower City. People who talked about him in a bad light often ended up with their throat slit or worse, on a ship back to the mainland. Luckily for the little girl, lord Axeas Windvale was not a man who lived his life in fear, nor ignored any tale worth telling. ‘Ah, the tale of the Worldfinder.’ The barman gave him a questioning look, fear sparkling behind his eyes. ‘Yes, let’s tell about the Traveller-King, about Dust and Metal, about life and war. Are you all ready?’ The children nodded.

A long time ago, in the kingdom of Avora, lived a young prince. Avora was by no means the large land that it is now. It was a small kingdom that stretched from the Pearl Sea to the southern Mistwoods. As a young lad, the prince did not care for the customs and traditions of royalty. He hated etiquette and fancy balls and boring meetings. Instead, he was drawn to adventure, to nature and beyond. Time after time the palace staff had to search for him, lost in a world of his own somewhere in the big forest surrounding the Royal palace. The king did not know what to do with his son. This was his only child, the successor to his throne! The boy’s head was filled with dreams and fantastical adventures and his father struggled with his lack of respect and attention for the crown that hung above his head. So, after his sixteenth name day, the young prince was send to the kingdom of Yrodan, a neighbouring country. There he was put in a strict military school where discipline reigned.

Now, children, you probably don’t know the country of Yrodan. It is now part of Avora but back then, it was one of the oldest kingdoms throughout the continent. The foundations of old ruins, marking an ancient empire, were spread throughout Yrodan. Two weeks, children. Two weeks and the prince escaped the school, travelling from ruin to ruin, searching for.. Well, here comes the interesting part: up until this day, no one knows what the prince was searching for. All we know is that he lived in the wild, delved the ruins of old Yrodan and gained a great deal of knowledge that would change the world. After six months the prince returned to his father’s doorstep. With him, he carried a small violet wolf, a strange creature that followed his commands. On one finger he carried a strange black ring, made from a metal no one had ever encountered before. According to the ancient palace records, his attitude had also changed. He spoke to his father not as a youngling but as a man with equal status.

It wasn’t very long before the prince started to display magic, forces beyond the natural as heard in tales long ago. His wolf gave him a magical force called Dust, with which the prince could build, destroy and manipulate nature. The black ring could manipulate the living, not only emotionally but also physically, changing their bodies and turning them into something different. At first, his magic consisted only of small tricks, and performances before the palace court. But his father saw his potential and so the king started to include his son within his inner circle. It was only a matter of time before the magic of the prince was used for means other than performing tricks. The prince learned to use his magic in…different ways. More aggressive, more violent. He created the Enhanced, a legion of soldiers with magically manipulated biology to make them stronger. He also went on diplomatic missions, using his powers to manipulate the other kingdoms into better trading deals with Avora.

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As time went on and his father and mother died, the young prince became king of Avora. Whereas the old king had used magic as a Royal privilege, the new one didn’t share this inclination. He assembled his court and told them of the discoveries he made, many years ago, within the ruins of Yrodan. He didn’t tell how he did it, but the prince found access to two new worlds. One was the Realm of Dust, the world where Dustlings hail from, magical creatures such as his own wolf that carry with them a magical substance called Dust. The other world he called the Underworld, a vast underground darkness consisting of metal labyrinths and strange folks, such as the stone elves. From then on, he decided to share the wealth of his discoveries. He started the Academy, where gifted people could be bound with a Dustling and learn the powers of the Dust. The king also opened the Gates of the Underworld, in order to mine the strange metal with which his ring was built.

This changed everything. Suddenly, the king was not the only mage in the country. And people started to flock to the Underworld with hopes of new lives in this exciting new place. But this decision had upset the other kingdoms. They saw the magic as a dangerous thing and felt threatened by Avora and its new magical changes. An alliance was forged and their armies marched towards Avora’s borders. So began the age of war, a hundred-year period of warfare, betrayal and bloodlust. Ultimately, Avora won against the invaders and used magic to conquer their lands, making the bulk of the continent part of the kingdom we know today. But that was not enough for the Worldfinder. According to him, magic meant peace and so he travelled to other lands to establish a treaty. This, of course, also blossomed into many different wars and so the age of war went on.

It all ended when the king was done conquering. He disbanded his mutant army and he put an end to decades of war. It was only then that people realized something about the king: he hadn’t aged a day since the start of the age of war. The time seemed to have stopped. No one knows why or how, but the king of Avora we know today is still the same man as the king at the start of his career. From the outside, of course. The Worldfinder works in mysterious ways. Some say he used the blood spilt during the war to gain eternal youth. Others say it is but an illusion, a spell brought forth by the Academy, whose board of directors might be the real masters of Avora. This was the tale of the Traveller-King, the Worldfinder who delved into other worlds and changed the course of ours.

The children stood up and clapped. Axeas bowed before them. ‘Thank you, thank you. I’ll see you next week for another legendary tale!’ As soon as all the kids were gone, the barman came to him. ‘You mad fuck! Please stick to the usual fairytales. I won’t have king’s men burning down my tavern.’ The bard smiled back. ‘Oh, but this was a fairytale. Only without a happy ending. There’s nothing wrong with the truth but luckily for you, I still have to earn my coin. Don’t worry: I’ll stick to the schedule!’ The barman just grumbled something and Axeas started to pack up. When he was on the street, he saw the girl with the black hair talking with a stranger. The man had the bearings of a mercenary. He wore scrappy armor and had the biggest collection of knives the bard had ever seen. As Axeas started to walk away, the mercenary followed him. Fuck. The bard started running. He got only a couple of miles ahead before his pursuer caught up with him. The man put a knife to his throat and pressed him up against a nearby wall. He stared at Axeas with a studying gaze. The girl joined them and spoke up. ‘He has no tongue but he wants to talk to you.’ ‘Me? I’m just a bard, nothing more! Is this about the tale?’ The man nodded. ‘I.. Please! I..’ He looked at the girl. ‘You’re him, right? Lord Windvale? Best friend to his majesty?’ she asked him. Axeas couldn’t deny it anymore. ‘Yes, yes that’s me. Please don’t kill me.’ The mercenary shrugged and beat him in the face with the heft of his knife. The last thing he heard was the girl’s voice. ‘Told you it was him.’