Excerpt of “About True Ones”
Written by Zsirack “Blue fingers”, Scribe of the Wandering Gods church.
Old Ones:
Once a True One reaches the ripe old age of 250, they become Old Ones.
Signs of age start to appear and settle, as they are growing weaker than their prime*.
However, their mana capacity and magical skills grow exponentially, thus becoming existences beyond most classical archmages.
Most True Ones don’t live that old, usually meeting an early grave during wars, adventuring or assassination.
The number of known and active Old Ones can be counted on a single hand and are usually a very important asset in their countries.
At this point, their life expectancy varies from half a century to a full one. The oldest of them recorded reaching the age of 352.
* But they still can discipline most adventurers with a hand behind their back and spank them into submission like the brats they are.
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By the time the trumpets ceased to blare, most of the village forgot all about the preparations and rushed to see the Knights.
A crowd was quickly gathering around them, forming a circle a dozen meters wide no one dared to enter.
Al couldn't see much, too small and too far away from the crowd. He spotted Tanya standing on a table yet to be covered by a napkin, and scurried around the tip-toeing people to join her.
She extended a hand to help him, clasping on their forearms as he pulled himself up on the table, both grinning excitedly at each other before turning to see the newcomers.
Nine heavily armored mens were in formation, surrounding a robed one.
The Knights, and the Envoy.
The knights were wearing plate armor, gleaming accents of silver and gold, their breast plates ornamented with a single, enormous gem fashioned into a teardrop that passed for a ruby, glinting a deep arterial crimson. Al, as curious as ever, noticed the dense glow of mana inside of each one of them, filled to the brim with magic energy, faint strands of mana circulating within the armor following the mastercrafted creases and motifs on the surface. He didn’t know what it was for exactly, but his eyes widened nonetheless at the impressive show of magical mastery it must have been to make each one of them.
They were ramrod straight, standing at attention, clutching loosely a spear in their dominant hands (Al spotted a left handed one in the back) and wide rectangular shields on their other arms, sporting the same kind of Gems in the center of each one.
And of course, the faint blue of their eyes shone through their closed, sallet helmets, they were True ones, all ten of them.
Ten, because the robed one, slightly hunched but clearly as tall as the others, had the same glow in her eyes, the light they emitted was richer, stronger. She was an Old One.
Wearing blue robes of offices richly ornamented in gold threads and gems imbued with mana and wearing an equally adorned staff, Al had to stop watching her through Mana Sight, blinded by her aura. She looked frail and gaunt like a corpse, but her movements spoke of untold amounts of energy and vigor.
Besides her long white hair reaching down her waist, she didn’t look that old, maybe barely older than Al’s Mom, which was a curious sight for the villagers.
She stepped outside of the circle of Knight, not even bothering to use her staff to walk, and cleared her throat.
“I am Deuteria of Serval, the Envoy sent by The Knights of the Blood, as requested by decree of the True King Gerhart Schweineblut Two thousands of years ago, to assert the sparkling of the named Todd, and to bring him into the Fortress of the Knights for initiation and Training.” She declared, her gaze scanning through the crowd, easily spotting Todd, sticking out like a sore thumb. Al also felt her eyes lock with his for the briefest of moments, triggering an unconscious reaction, squatting down in reflex in order to break eye contact and hide, a shiver running up his spine, his tail twitching nervously.
The Old Lady didn’t seem to notice nor care, her face betraying no other emotion than a very diplomatic half smile all the while.
“Is any member of this Village’s Council nearby ?” she asked, her tone soft, yet demanding. “We came at the time and place requested in the missive, there should be a welcoming committee for us.”
There was a movement in the mass of people, as the Councilmembers remembered their role and stopped to gawk at the exceptional sight of Ten old ones in the same place, each one of them more valuable and experienced than a full team of adventurers.
Strum, the Council Head, emerged from the villager’s crowd, wearing his finest tunic and pants, nervous as all hell, motioned for the other members to come as well, motioning for the non officials to leave.
“Shoo! shoo! This is Council Business! Todd, stay here and come closer!” Strum declared as he waved his arms, chasing the gawking villagers.
As the crowd cleared, Al could make out the other members of the council, and his mother, Andrea, wearing her “official” Mage’s outfit, complete with the wide, witch hat she wore in her adventuring days.
And more numerous, adventurers, warriors for the majority of them, waiting, eyeing the Knights, standing tall, weapons sheathed, hands resting on them.
What looked like the leader was holding a red banner, with embroidered crossing swords, planting it into the ground, crossing his arms not breaking eye contact with the Knight’s chief.
“We, adventurers currently in this village, wish to duel the Knight delegation, just as it has been done in the past. No magic, weapons only. I am Sil Varmint, chosen leader of this group for this contest.” The man, clad in leather armor, had his hand on his maul’s pommel.
The officer noticed and stepped forward, doing the same with his spear, the gems glowing for an instant as the metal appeared to melt, reshaping into a Zweihander, just as ornate.
The Knight took its Sallet out into its hand, revealing the heavily scarred face beneath.
Al and Tanya looked at each other, excited by the opportunity of seeing warrior of legends fight, completely forgetting about going back to help in the kitchens, as most of the other kids did, Jek and his posse noisily cheering the Knights.
“Challenge Accepted” the Officer declared. “As per custom, we will each offer to duel anyone wishing to test their mettle against us.” Her glowing eyes passing over each of her would be contenders. “First blood or abandon, third blood if there is a draw. Knights ! Deploy the dueling circle !”
The Soldiers moved as one, forming a twelve meter wide circle around their Chief, then, one after the other, planted their spears into the ground, their gems shining bright as a trail of silvery liquid linked each of them to form a ring, finally stepping back to give more space to the public to see the action.
“Who’s First ?” asked the One eyed woman, picking back up her blade with one hand, as if it weighed nothing, placed casually over her shoulder. “Who will fight against me, Ensign Ultrogoth ?”
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They never stood a chance.
The first one to come, a burly man in thirties , advanced, waving his bastard sword in mock swings and entered the ring.
Ultrogoth didn’t say anything, saluting with her weapon before assuming a fighting stance.
The man, an adventurer nicknamed “Mutt” was a little taken aback by the fact she was actually a good head and half taller than him.
He froze for a second before he took his own fighting stance, ready to fight. The adventurers cheered, encouraging Mutt like the rowdy sort they were with whistles and hoots.
The other Knights clapped once, yelling “READY”, visors shining blue “FIGHT!”.
Both dashed forward, weapons at the ready.
As Mutt lifted his sword for a downward strike,his muscles bulging under the effort, the Knight immediately threw her arm forward like a piston, palming his chest with a loud bang, chasing all air inside of him as he dropped his weapon, clutching his chest.
Ultrogoth brow raised, then bit her lips as she realized she might have gone too hard on the poor guy who didn’t know how the Knights fought and probably humiliated him on the spot.
“He wasn’t ready… let’s do it over” She declared, masking her nervousness under the veneer of authority, determined to go easy on him.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Mutt coughed, his hand speckled with blood. He had bit his lip, and severely wounded his pride. “First blood” he said, shakily standing up “I lost.'' his tone was almost pleading.
The second one didn’t fare much better. She let him swing a few times, dodging and deflecting the blows, giving a couple of her own for the spearman to parry as well.
But it was still over under half a minute when the spear’s butt went flying dangerously close toward her face, her Zweihander flashing, sectioning the weapon, shaving the very rip of his fingers off, nails and all.
After that, she decided to leave her place to the other knights, starting with their freshest recruits.
“Maxwell here has been a Knight only for a decade and was an adventurer like you before his sparkling. He mainly fought monsters just like you and only recently started to spar with us.” She slapped his back, pushing him forward to join the dueling circle.
The other fights were more balanced, lasting more than a minute, to the pleasure of the childrens and the public watching as their resident adventurer took on the famous Knights.
One, using a segmented sword-whip, managed to draw once against Maxwell, the blade screeching against the plate armor as it coiled around the arm cannon holding his spear.
It was the closest blow that could be counted as “drawing blood”. However it just ended as a draw, as at the same time he got himself nicked on the forearm.
He lost almost immediately in the second round, the Knight, embarrassed by his oversight rushed him and plunged downard to his knee, slashing the leg swiftly with the very tip of his spear, just enough to count.
None of the adventurers won, and only one knight sported a scratch on his armor to attest for the only draw of the bout.
“With that” declared Ultrogoth “the custom has been honored.” She put back her helmet on, her one eyed glow shining within.
“We will see you all during the banquet” she added, moving back toward their Envoy, which had finished to speak with the Council, and was in an intense discussion with Andrea, both inaudible, under a sound proof spell.
The council was gone, and Toss was soon joined by the Knights. They removed their helmets, passing a critical look over the new True One, who shuffled in place, clearly awkward.
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Al and Tanya descended their perch, using the bench to climb down the table.They both were still excited and chatting about the fights they saw.
They walked toward the main place, taking the growing Village’s little roads and alleys, commenting on what they just saw.
“Did you see how their spear changed shape? I wonder how it worked.” Tanya said. “Do you have any idea? That was so cool !”
Al shook his head “I don't know! Maybe my Mom does ! Let’s go ask her when she’s done with the Envoy…” he shuddered as he remembered the Old Woman and the feeling of panic and dread that creeped inside of him when their eyes met …
Tanya stopped short and Al bumped into her.
“Here you are, monster!” a familiar voice spat.
Waiting for them at the turn in another narrow passage between two wooden houses, Jek and his two friends were there.
And they weren’t alone.
Al and Tanya heard crunchy footsteps behind.
Through the side alley and the half melted snow, two more kids… And an adult, in leather armor, one of the adventurers they saw during the duel, casually leaning on a home’s wall.
“A thing like you shouldn’t feast with us, humans” Jek spat, pointing straight at Alaster.
“Jek, you ass ! Who do you think you are ? Wait until we tell on you ! Your father will be so pissed you won’t be able to sit for a year !” Tanya retorted, fists clenched taking a step forward toward the clique’s boss.
Al nodded, nervous, feeling restless, angry and sad from all of this. This wasn’t fair! He’d understand if he was a troublemaker like Mitch, or Jek himself. He did nothing!
“Tanya, if you leave now, you can attend !” he declared, not sparing a glance to her.
“Who do you think told me to do this ? I’d rather not speak to it more than I have to ! He’ll just make us look bad! An Envoy, in the village! She has the power to make it disappear with a word !”
“So no, you won’t attend, Lizard, and Howard here is to make sure you’ll be. If you behave we will bring you leftovers”
The Adventurer, Howard apparently, chuckled, lazily resting a hand on his sword’s scabbard, righting himself up, looking at the now slightly shaking lizard boy.
“You heard right, Boy ? All you have to do is to stay with me for the evening. I get paid, you stay unhurt, and the village chief is happy.” He said, brushing himself off some snow. “I've got a room in the dormitory, you can watch the event from the window.” he added, hands on his hips leaning forward to tower over the scaly kid.
“Yeah ! Listen to Howard, Snake, you deserve worse” Jek gloated as his two followers looked at each other, unsure of the fairness of it all, but stuck with it now that they threw their lot with their “friend”.
“Sod off !” Alaster snapped, turning to face the jerk “Whatever did I do to you ? Why do you keep doing this kind of thing to me?” his face grew pinker, the white almost translucent scale under his eyes showing his agitation, his face not made to express itself like humans do.
Howard's easy going smile vanished as he stepped back once, the grip on his scabbard tightening as the kid in front of him grew angrier, the kid’s cloak weaving under a wind only it felt.
The adventurer frowned, his day and prospect of easy money menacing to be ruined a little more by this kid.
“Don’t be an idiot, kid!” he started, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him close to subdue him.
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A few minutes earlier …
“And so, little Lipswick, do we have to expect another… innovation of yours soon ?” the Envoy asked, giving Andrea a toothy smile.
Andrea forced herself to smile. Deuteria of Serval wasn’t someone she could cross without any consequences.
Any Mage worth their pointy hat knew about her.
Deuteria of Serval, Prior Duchess of Serval, former Mage Knight and Adventurer, founder of the Cuni sanctii Mage’s Conclave, founder of the arcane library of Serval and now Imperial Envoy.
She was the kind of person the likes of Andrea would normally never hope to cross.
But (un)fortunately, a fan of Andrea’s breakthroughs in lightning magic and unorthodox usage of spells.
The old woman already sent her a few formal letters inviting her back into Serval, or Cuni Sanctii at her best convenience for a position in her Conclave, but she always found a reasonable excuse not to come.
Ever since, the Envoy would send messengers regularly to her tower, where she asked for updates on her research. She was the one who was paying for it after all.
“I am still working on a way to create a scaled up version of my Bottled Lighting, as I wrote in my letter a month ago. I have problems getting pure enough glass and materials. Adventurers can only give me so much slime in one go. And it tends to go bad after a while. I managed to make one big enough to feed a Lighthouse for half a night.” or to load on a catapult, she added in her head.
“As for new spells, I'll have you wait for my report in three months. I’m sure you’ll like what you’ll see in it.” she added. “Thank you again for your patronage, I wouldn't have been able to research so carelessly if you weren’t helping me.” She thanked the Envoy.
“Oh don’t mention it! it’s my role as Conclave head and Old One to help the new generation soar and better the world around them!” The old Crone smiled. “I’ll wait for your report with impatience, you are the only researcher outside our group that is conscientious about sending her reports in time.”
It’s because if I don't you’ll find a reason to come to my house Andread mused, imagining the disaster in her quiet life if an Archmage, an Imperial Official to boot, was to come unannounced to the village. the Council would try to push it to their advantage.
“Oh, that scaly boy I see standing on this table, is that your son ?” Deuteria asked, completely ignoring the Knights and Adventurers finishing their bouts, her knotty finger pointing toward the only white snout in the crowd, head poking over the rest of the audience.
“...yes, this is Alaster, my son,” She answered. “He’s a good boy.” She added with emphasis, almost in the defensive.
“Don’t be like that, Child. I have nothing against that boy, he’s adorable, but I think I scare him.” she chuckled, as Alaster seemed to shrink under the crowd for some reason.
“Seems like he’s really sensitive, if a look is all it takes.” She mused, her tone asking an unsaid question.
They watched Alaster and his friend disappear as the bout officially ended. The adventurers dispersed, most likely to the tavern to drink some and tend to their bruised ego.
Soon they were alone under their magic dome, most of the crowd was still leaving slack jawed, and their enthusiastic chatter was a low buzz that droned in their ears.
“Yes, yes he is, I’ve started to train him, and he’s promising. In terms of raw talent, he’s already on Beginner to Journeyman level and he didn’t learn much but a couple utilitarian spells.” Andrea carefully revealed, eyeing the crowd for any obvious listeners. “But I'm quickly approaching my limit, I am not made to be a teacher.”
“…Are you going to send him to your Family? To House Lipswick Domain?” Deuteria asked.
“Not yet, i wanted to wait another year, as it may, i grew very very fond of my son, and Felix too.” Andrea sighed, smiling to herself.
“I understand, I have kids too. Most of them are grandfathers now. I still hate to see them go do their own things.” She chuckled. “Still, is he getting along with the other villagers?”
“He has but a couple of friends. mostly don’t mind him, but you know how backwaters are. Some are straight up heinous.” Andrea frowned, adjusting her mage’s hat.
“No notable incident ?” The old woman pressed, suddenly interested.
“None to speak of. We made sure the villagers will play nice, Felix and I.” Andrea flexed an arm in emphasis. “And Alaster himself is just a kid. besides minor scuffles you can expect from one, He nev-*
Both turned their head toward the village as they felt, more than they saw an enormous emission of mana coming from there.
Then, a Scream, a human form shooting upward from the village, straight up into the sky.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH LET ME DOWN !”
It went up, up, upward, until he wasn’t visible anymore.
Then the mana stopped.