The following lecture was on spell theory, a class which Athra did not believe he needed to attend, but he also figured it was probably for the best not to tempt fate by skipping classes and giving the headmaster even more reason to have a problem with him. Soon, the hall with students changing classes in a rush; no one wanted to be late and get admonished after all.
The class of 22 students got into the amphitheater-shaped class, took their seats, and patiently waited for the lecturer to arrive. The wait was a short one, as Professor Naelerion was a man known for his punctuality. The man had an appearance that matched that of a pure mage with short blonde hair and emerald eyes topping the average build body he had. His lack of muscle in his slender body was all one needed to see that he was a pure practitioner of the arcane arts.
He went on about the effects one’s mana pool had on the cast spell such as fastening the cast time, removing components, and eliminating the need for chants, all by applying extra mana. Athra could see that many of his classmates somehow did not possess this knowledge which was something he had taught to himself during his isolation. Much to his surprise, the following topic was modifying the already established spells, and the basics needed to establish a spell of their own. A staggering amount of trial and error and mana reserve was needed for both of these actions, so while it was being taught, nobody really was expected to do it, which made the lecturer shocked when Athra started asking questions about the topic.
He answered the prince's questions with fervor, enjoying the fact there was a like-minded scholar within such a young group. Most of the time, the ones who were interested in such topics were quite a bit older, people who had reached the peak of what they could achieve with their limits and wanted to see if there was a way to move past it. The lecture drew to a close with most of the class turning into what was basically a one-on-one lecture with Athra and Naelerion, the rest of the students did not mind as theory was boring and they had little interest to begin with.
Tyrian approached the prince after class; Athra thought that he would ask to spar again, in which case he would happily oblige. However, the words spoken by Tyrian surprised him, “Your highness, would you mind teaching this humble subject of yours arcane arts?” Athra knew Tyrian struggled with the arcane part of the spellsword world, but this was an unexpected turn of events for him.
“I see no reason to refuse,” he replied, happy to help his sparring partner to improve. He knew helping Tyrian would benefit himself as it meant he would indirectly build a decent rapport with Rylorian by helping his only son. However, the main reason was the fact that he was hoping after teaching Tyrian they could spar in spellsword duels, not just swordplay. He wanted to see how Tyrian would fight when he had access to potent buff spells, the battle maniac inside him could not let such an opportunity slip.
They sparred together whenever they both had free time. When they were tired of physical combat, Athra taught Tyrian about the arcane arts. Athra noticed over the days and weeks they spent time together that Tyrian’s problem was not a lack of trying nor even talent necessarily, there was something wrong with his ability to access his innate mana properly. Over time they had become pretty good friends, which made Athra desperate to find a solution to his friend’s plight and led him to experiment using Tyrian’s blood as well. Soon an announcement was made asking people to form teams of four within their own classes, this led to two new additions to their swordplay practices. The new teammates spent the decade building up their bonds and adapting to each other’s styles. Over this decade Athra ended up being challenged a few more times and came out on top each and every single time in a dominating fashion like a true D’lora; hence, his combat record now read 13-0 and his coward prince title was no more.
At the end of the decade, the reason for the team-up was made clear; they were going to descend to the Forest of Brythionyx named after the green dragon that made his lair deep within to hunt some creatures in an effort to put the skills they had honed over the last 110 years to the test. Each team was given a magical tablet that would record what monster they had slain and the amount slain, which at the end would translate into points earned. Athra and his team knew any competition was to see who would end up as the second-best team beneath them; such was their confidence they had in the prince’s overwhelming power.
It was the day of the hunt; the floating city of D’lora’reth started to descend down towards the ground, to its place within Dajna’reth the majestic city kingdom of the Ira. Built on prime land between the fertile riverlands to the south, the mountain range called The Spine to the north, the ocean to its west and the Forest of Brythionyx, the city was a sight to behold and made one realize D’lora’reth despite its magnificence could only be called a small town when compared to the pure splendorous appearance of the main city above which it floated due to a spell cast by Dajna D’lora herself. This would be the first time in four millennia that the city had descended to the ground, the last time also being a hunt albeit one for a different reason. Each team while the descent was taking place got assigned a senior student and as luck would have it the one assigned to Athra’s team was none other than Ledros.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Ledros didn’t know if he was lucky to be assigned to a group which he practically did not need to pay any attention to or unlucky because he would at the end of the day just be wasting his time; after all, the seniors were there to step in if the teams could not handle whatever they had run into.
Finally, the floating island settled in its place next to the royal castle, on the steps of which the crown prince was awaiting the students. He had volunteered as the overseer of the event replacing whichever head teacher who would’ve gotten the task; crown prince after all was not a figure to be refused even without his status. His strength alone would make anyone in the academy but the headmaster bow; his very presence made the students know that no matter what danger they would face they would be safe.
Adorned in his primarily black leather armor which was lined with blood-red linen and his soul scythe pale as the moons of Erandar Desta truly looked worthy of the title he was given: The Reaper. Upon seeing his younger brother in a team with Rylorian’s son he raised an eyebrow as he knew the unfortunate circumstance of the young redhead, but he did not question. He had utter trust in Athra’s ability to single-handedly pass if need be; with his mana reserves now on track to evolve like the other Dlora’s in Desta’s mind Athra just needed some time to become a truly terrifying power in his own right. Glancing at the two other teammates of his brother he had a satisfied smile on his face; he could easily tell who the two were, the twin children of house L’rial were an unmistakable duo. Desta chuckled inwardly as he likened the two Athra and Diarra just with silver hair and eyes after all at a quick glance they really were similar to the royal twins the heights perhaps a few centimeters at most shorter than their counterparts but apart from that minor detail they exuded the same elegance and grace while moving as the royal twins did. He also had not failed to notice how Diarra’s counterpart was looking at Athra with quick glances even if his brother was none the wiser; after all, his brother’s strong suit had never been what others’ desires were. Perhaps he would have to step in and nudge his clueless younger brother in the right direction. Noticing that everyone was ready to leave he cast his thoughts aside and with a flick of his wrist created a portal “Stepping through this portal will take you to different spots within the forest about, each group will appear at a different location and will be away from each other by a radius of a few kilometers. Now go and hunt to your hearts’ content young ones and know that I will be watching each of you so have no fear, let loose.” Needless to say, Desta, much like his younger brother, enjoyed the thrill of battle and hunt and his tone reflected that. It was clear that this proclamation was not an ask but a royal order.
Glancing at the two other teammates of his brother, he had a satisfied smile on his face. He could easily tell who the two were; the twin children of house L’rial were an unmistakable duo. Desta chuckled inwardly as he likened the two, Athra and Diarra, just with silver hair and eyes. After all, at a quick glance, they really were similar to the royal twins, the heights perhaps a few centimeters at most shorter than their counterparts, but apart from that minor detail, they exuded the same elegance and grace while moving as the royal twins did. He also had not failed to notice how Diarra’s counterpart was looking at Athra with quick glances, even if his brother was none the wiser. After all, his brother’s strong suit had never been what others’ desires were. Perhaps he would have to step in and nudge his clueless younger brother in the right direction.
Noticing that everyone was ready to leave, he cast his thoughts aside and with a flick of his wrist created a portal. “Stepping through this portal will take you to different spots within the forest about; each group will appear at a different location and will be away from each other by a radius of a few kilometers. Now go and hunt to your hearts’ content, young ones, and know that I will be watching each of you, so have no fear, let loose.” Needless to say, Desta, much like his younger brother, enjoyed the thrill of battle and hunt, and his tone reflected that. It was clear that this proclamation was not a request but a royal order.
Athra felt a smile creep upon his face and his blood boil with anticipation. He wasted no time and led his group through the portal without hesitation. The party found themselves surrounded with trees as they took their first steps onto the green grass on the other side. Athra quickly let his mana search the surroundings for prey; he now had one mission in his mind, seek and destroy any. His brother's words had stirred something that was perhaps better left unstirred deep within him. Soon he found several creatures to hunt in different directions. His orders for his squad were clear: “Split up and kill any prey in sight. If you believe you cannot handle it, use the beckoning bell I have given you; it’ll alert me, and I’ll be there to help in an instant. If something I can’t handle happens to appear, then we have my brother watching us, so as he said, let loose, let go of caution, and hunt to your hearts’ content.” His tone much like his words resembled Desta’s; it was clear that the sadistic hunter within all D’loras that was dormant till now due to a lack of overwhelming power had now awoken inside him too.
Seeing their usually calm leader order them all to throw caution to the wind was a rare sight for the party, but none of them had any qualms about it. All were eager to show what they were individually capable of after all. Without hesitation, the party split up, leaving Ledros stunned and with a headache. How was he supposed to keep track of all four of them if they ran off in different directions? Cursing his luck, he followed Tyrian, who was from what he could see, the one with the least mana flowing through his veins. In his mind, he was the most vulnerable.