A young man and woman appearing to be in their early twenties, walked down the cobbled road, they both had grey hair and pale blue eyes. The man had slightly curly unkempt hair that stopped right across his eyes. Whereas the woman's hair was tied in a tight short braid at the back of her head, a few curly strands escaping in the front of her face. They were both dressed in the same uniforms, knee-high brown leather boots, blue pants tucked into the boots, dark brown shirts with a crested silver chest plate covering the top of their torsos. The woman despite being slightly shorter than the man carried a long shafted two handed hammer on her back. Whereas the man had a thin rapier at his side.
The man's eyes were lazy and playful as he winked to a random lady whom they passed as they walked by. The woman's eyes on the other hand were observant and serious. She barely registered it when her brother winked to the random passer-by, it wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. They had business in the far-away city that was Cenharb, so she didn't bother with commenting on his senseless flirting.
The sun shone brightly without a cloud in sight, but even the rays of sunlight couldn't penetrate every nook, cranny and side alley of Cenharb, and like all cities, the underbelly was hardly seen, unless one went looking.
. . . . .
A hazy mist shield was penetrated with a swoosh by a rapier, the mage within feeling the cold steel penetrate his heart. A loud snapping sound escaped as the remaining mist exploded in a cascade of white, blowing the swordsman back! He collided with the wall of the alley, giving the building a light shake, blood spurting from his mouth, as he slid down vaguely.
The mage had disappeared in the mist explosion and reappeared a couple of meters back, a line of blood was dripping from his lip, and he was deathly pale. The cost to his soul for surviving the attack would not be small, he thought bitterly, however the price he had paid was worth it, there were other ways to alleviate these costs after all.
Step by step he walked closer to the fallen swordsman, he didn't know who the warrior was, but he certainly knew why he was there, he lifted his hand up, his lips parted, ready to end the foolish man's mistake! But before he could chant, and out of nowhere, a small hammer the size of two fists put together, ripped the mage's head straight from his body, half exploding in pieces of skull fragments, brain matter and blood. The hammer was there for only the moment of impact, a split second later, it and its assailant appeared by the side of the grey haired warrior with the rapier.
"Foolish brother, you are too focused on your rapier skills, neglecting the Wood Body techniques! you have yet to master even the Red Oak Bark technique" the woman who had saved him spoke with a voice of concern, she then pulled out a pellet "here eat this, and run your breathing skill, I'll carry you to our lodging as soon as I have cleaned this up"
The brother swallowed the pellet, and took a few deep breaths, while the sister went over to the body of the mage, she quickly rummaged through his pockets, but she was left empty handed. When done, she pulled out a small pile of dust that she covered the body in.
Moments later the two were exiting from a completely different alley, the brother leaning heavily on his sister, he whispered into her ear "did you get it?" a hint of desperation in his voice.
"Why of course brother!" she responded with a smile "the other mage had it, the one you did battle with, was but a diversion" her smile faltered slightly as she continued, still speaking silently "the worshipper's might be weak for mages, but they have a lot of tricks up their sleeves, we best be careful in the future"
With a serious nod the brother talked anew "Although I am a handsome rogue who should be living freely, I do admit it'd be good to return home, so what cover do we have on the way?"
The sister's smile re-emerged as she ignored the first half of her brother's sentence "Yes, returning home will do us good" her eyes darted carefully "I received a letter by a swallow-serpent this morning, and the cover is for us to attend the birthday of some minor nobility in the far north of Magnolia, well for us it is still considered mid-country, I believe the family name was Crowborne".
. . . . .
A pointy eared tall and lanky man, with grey skin and white hair looked carefully at a small emblem, a hint of alarm in his eyes "...you were right in letting our embassy know, to think that someone would have the gall to murder a pair of worshipper's in broad daylight" his tone stern and strict as he looked at the headless body in front of him.
A red haired lady in black pants and a black coat with a small silver badge on her chest responded calmly "they'll be on the move now as they try to find the perpetrator, not that I care much, a dead worshipper is a good worshipper as far as I am concerned, but we hardly specialize in the detection of their magics in our department" There wasn't a hint of sympathy in her eyes as she too looked at the headless body.
The pointy eared man agreed silently with her sentiment "you have the full cooperation of the Luna Kingdom in this case, we'll help you keep the worshippers in check for the coming weeks" the man pulled out a small piece of parchment, and scribbled a note on it, after which he folded it into small bird, with the 'bird' on his palm he gently blew some air on it, and soon the parchment bird flew off. He followed the red haired lady out of the alley, allowing the cleaners access "do you think that these worshipper's have anything to do with the ritual that was mentioned in the paper the other day?" he asked curiously.
The lady's face grimaced "ritual! it was a bloody massacre!" she spat angrily "Three families, ten kids..." she shook her head in sadness and anger "maybe, but it is unlikely, the paper didn't have all of the details, the ritual did not seem to have been committed by worshippers, otherwise we would have called you in for that case for consulting"
. . . . .
-Welcome to Cenharb! City of Tragedy!-
Barandir was holding yellowed newspaper in his left hand as he read the headline, what a brilliant idea this newspaper business was, it allowed news to reach all corners of society, he was just about to pay for it when his uncle stopped him.
"Don't waste your money on that trashy paper" he spoke coldly, as he gave the news-boy a harsh looking, making him scuttle away. The uncle was always following Barandir, afraid that he'd lose him once more "sensationalism nephew, nothing more, certainly the paper's of the cities are a good idea, but the majority are garbage, the news exploited and full of theory and conjecture, hardly facts, in Cenharb there is only one paper worth reading, The CHARB Times, now that's a paper for mages!" he proclaimed proudly "it is renowned for its accurate news, and also for having plenty of good bargains, and socialite news, which as nobility, we do need to catch up on when we are in the city".
He followed after the uncle as they strolled the streets of Cenharb, the buildings here were all four or more storeys tall, and although there were some in the 'older' building style with the wooden bindings still visible, there were also a lot of new ones with what Lonkar referred to as modern brick houses, which was the small same-sized stones that Barandir had seen when he had been boarding the zeppelin for the first time. The brick buildings came in mostly three colours, white, blue and without colour which left the building in a natural sand colour.
Many of the building had different motifs on the walls and balconies, and large wooden doors, it was clear to Barandir that they were walking in a more expensive neighbourhood as he saw marble stairs, and even a few marble mansions with impressive gardens.
Lonkar was bringing him to the RRS lounge, which was short for the Runic Researchers Society, of which the man was a holistic member of. Barandir had come to realise that the man was a researcher of magic, more than he was a practitioner, in between the lines Barandir had learnt that the original Barandir had been on his way to the Tower of Artin to seek apprenticeship, but that now he needed to find some other way to learn magic 'in the proper manner' at this Barandir didn't fully understand. What was the 'proper manner'? Why hadn't the original Barandir simply learnt from his family; for warriors it was fairly common to learn from family members and other mentors.
. . . . .
The society's building was a nondescript doorway in one of the mansions, aside from a small golden plague on the outside, there wasn't any other way to know what hid behind the gates. Lonkar drew a rune in the air, a trail of black light followed his finger, the rune then landed on the small golden plague, at which the two instantly found themselves inside a lobby of sorts, much to Barandir's surprise.
Teleportation, something which he hadn't seen since he had passed, it brought with it many unpleasant memories, for a moment his face turned very ugly, and he almost released his bloodlust, unintentionally, but he reined in his feelings almost instantly. Luckily the lobby was empty aside from a small book on a pedestal in front of a large wooden double-door.
Barandir shook his head, this irrational feeling of blind hatred for mages was escaping him at times. He looked silently at the back of the man who thought himself reunited with his nephew, how easy it would be to end him right then and there, one less mage in the world. He felt a headache coming along, he liked Lonkar, he had done nothing but treat him right, and yet his mind went to the idea of murdering the man! Despite knowing the problem, and trying to solve his mental state, he had still made no progress.
While Barandir was morose and fighting his inner demons, Lonkar took a few steps forward to the book on the pedestal. He tapped the book lightly, and it whooshed open. Lonkar then proceeded to pull out a pen, which he used to write down his name in the book.
"Come along now nephew" he spoke as the two large mahogany doors opened automatically.
. . . . .
"YOU FOOL!" a large elderly man with a grey beard slammed his hand down on a small wooden table "Begone! Lest you embarrass yourself further!" He was yelling aggressively at a young ,slightly chunky man, with almond brown hair and glasses; who almost fell over when he was berated.
He replied nervously "but, but, true runes are real! I saw a book, and it mentioned that..." he barely finished his sentence when he was interrupted again.
This time it was a different speaker, apparently someone had just entered the lounge with a companion and had decided to join in on the conversation, unfortunately for the young man it was not in his favour "calm down Mr. Bennings, whereas I do agree with your sentiment, this young mage is after all, young still" he took a puff of his pipe, before he continued "although young one, you are mistaken, there is no such thing as 'true runes', runes are certain patterns that give power based on mana pathways and celestial bodies, the idea that there is some set of runes that could encompass all of the different uses of magic is a ridiculous notion!" he snapped harshly "although you are not the first scholar to be misled by idealistic populism that mixes spell writing, diagrams and runes, I'd beg you to reconsider your standing before you decide to speak of such to Mr. Bennings"
At this the young man began getting flustered, his face turning red as a tomato, and as he was about to speak again, he was once more interrupted, this time by a young woman with long wavy wheat gold hair and fine features, she was in the middle of a game of chess with an elderly man, and she wasn't even looking up as she spoke to the man "were you about to quote Derren Harrington?" she placed the rook down slowly, as the young man's face began paling when he heard her speak "he is a well-known mage, sure, and as for his record in battle, well I won't belittle that, but that he somehow thought it upon himself to write a book about runes and diagrams, when he has no schooling on either subjects, is rather arrogant, not to mention the fact that he stole all of his ideas from several hypothetical works and writings" she turned her head to the man, her eyes dangerously icy "in the Runic Research Society, the man and his scarce amount of fans have no place, so I'll repeat Mr. Benning's words...BEGONE!"
With a stumble, and without another word the young man quickly escaped, giving the first person who interrupted him, and his companion, a meaningful scowl.
. . . . .
"Lonkar, old friend! please" Mr Benning's gestured, with a big smile, to two comfy looking green leather padded mahogany chairs. Lonkar and Barandir didn't stand on ceremony and sat down by the man's table.
Aside from a small commotion when they had entered, there hadn't really been too much of an interest in what had happened, not that there were that many people who could take an interest anyhow. The lounge was fairly empty as far as Barandir could see, less than half full in the main hall. The walls consisted of bookshelves filled with books, scrolls, artefacts and other knick knacks. The floor was made out of a dark reddish wood, and there were runes drawn across it in a symmetrical patterns, to what effect, if any, Barandir did not know. The ceiling was most marvellous as it was a dome constructed purely out of stained glass, clearly shaping one big rune, the colours being only shades of white, making the sunshine reflect brilliantly in the middle of the room. Barandir also noticed that there were several doorways and passages in and around the main hall, perhaps there were more people there?
Before Lonkar could say his hello's he was interrupted by the lady whose hair had a wheat gold colouration "Although our society doesn't look down on guests, we also have rules about allowing warriors into our sanctums" she knocked down the other mage's king piece casually, whereas she turned around to face Barandir and his uncle "small spaces you see, don't exactly combine well with mages and warriors" her eyebrow lifted slightly as she crossed her arms, her look was not as icy as previously, but still as piercing, her moss green eyes contrasting with her pale skin and light hair. She wore a long loose sky blue dress with elbow long sleeves, and thin ink black gloves that went up her arm, covering her skin.
Lonkar was stunted at the sudden interruption, and faced the lady with an awkward facial expression, technically his nephew was a 'warrior', however without natural energy, he also wasn't, before he got the chance to comment, he simply heard his nephew chuckle lightly.
"Miss, or Mrs? I'm hardly a warrior, there is not an ounce of natural energy in me" his eyes were soulless and he looked back at the lady with a mirth "and not only that, I'm currently bound by a cane, I could hardly be a threat" his empty eyes instantly sharpened "even if I wanted to" his last sentence slightly loaded.
Mr Bennings saw the exchange unfold and quickly began talking, in an attempt to mend the discussion "Miss Winter, This is Lonkar Crowborne, one of our younger members, he has released several provocative and exciting papers on runic research" he clapped Lonkar on the shoulder, who could only smile awkwardly at the sudden praise "he send a letter to me a couple of days ago, informing me that he would be arriving with his long lost nephew, whom tragedy had struck" his voice increasing in volume and suspense "Barandir here survived in the southern Magnolia forest for three full years, and somehow made it out by himself!" he looked around the room with big eyes, obviously enjoying putting on a bit of a show "and he is neither a warrior, nor does he know any spells!" at his final sentence Miss winter looked taken somewhat aback, and she looked at Barandir again, a hint of curiosity in her gaze.
Her folded arms relaxed a bit her previous frown turning more gentle "in that case I owe you an apology Mr. Crowborne" she stood up and went over to Mr. Benning's table, and stretched out her hand, Lonkar and Barandir quickly rose and shook it, accepting the apology "Although I am curious as to how you made your way out of the forest, I have an appointment that I need to see to" she spoke confidently and slightly melodiously now that her mood was better, she turned to look at Lonkar "I'll be sure to take a look at your research, to see if it is as exciting as Mr. Benning's claim" she said challengingly, turning Lonkar's smile slightly strained "Crowborne, if your research is good I'll make my way in your direction, your name rings a distant bell, can I assume that you are nobility?" she looked back at Mr. Benning's, who quickly explained.
"Despite his talent, he is simply of a minor noble clan in the far north of Magnolia, I'll have my servant give you the details if you desire miss Winter" he spoke politely.
When the woman was gone the three finally got comfortable. Although it didn't seem to bother Lonkar that miss Winter and Mr. Benning's had spoken of him and his clan in such a tone, he couldn't help but wonder? The man was proud of his family, this Barandir was certain of. Barandir turned his attention back to the conversation.
"...potentially strong ally!" Benning's spoke excitedly "Miss Winter is a distant relative to the Brivea family, which might be a more powerful clan than yours, is still small, but!" he lifted his finger up with a smile as he got to the point "The Winter clan is a very, powerful house in Ma'Ra'Gol!" his eyes glimmered "she isn't a dedicated runic researcher as far as I understand, but she has a keen interest in runes, and whenever she visits her relatives here in the city, she pays a visit to our lounge"
Lonkar nodded patiently as the old man spoke, but Barandir could see that he didn't seem to care too much, power and politics were two things that the man had almost never spoken of.
One comment did seem to make an impression on Lonkar however, and Barandir barely heard it as Mr. Bennings leaned in close when he whispered it. All that Barandir heard was "witch".
. . . . .
Below the sewers, in ancient ruins sculpted into the bedrock, sat a man cross-legged, covered in shadows, in the middle of a magical pentagram with symbols and writings carved into the very rock, his arms were chained to the flooring with strange wooden chains with glowing runes carved into them. A small stout man stood at the entrance to the room nervously "...the ledger was stolen great one" he spoke shakily.
The man in the shadows responded calmly "do you have any clues as to its whereabouts? Our plans will be greatly delayed without it after all" although his face wasn't visible, his voice sounded gentle and caring.
The stout man knew better "they masked the scene of the incident with something that disturbed the mana particles, disallowing us from recreating what had happened, however one thing is clear, it was warriors!".
The shadowy figure remained silent for a long while, which made the stout man sweat bullets, then he breathed a long breath of shadowy air, that just barely reached the stout man's forehead. At the moment of impact his eyes became cloudy "take this information, it will allow you to summon a lesser dog of the pit, it should be able to track the assailants, also... don't fail me again".
. . . . .
It wasn't until they had exited the society's lounge that Barandir realised how fresh the air had been in the room, where in the city it was much more stale, and although it was better here in the richer quarters, he was sure that it would be much worse in the poorer areas of the city. It seemed that no matter the era and place, there would be disparity. He bowed down with a smile, and bought a flower and a two buns, from a small girl that came running by, with a basket full of flowers and buns. When Barandir offered Lonkar a bun, he simply gave him a strange look for a moment, but then took the bun and ate it greedily.
On the way back to the zeppelin he wondered just how much the young man had changed. Lonkar had noticed the thin white lines of scars that marked Barandir's body, yet it didn't seem to bother his nephew at all. He had also seen how muscular the young man's body had become, it was no wonder that Miss winter had mistook him for a warrior, although Lonkar thought that the clothes hid this quite well, one thing was obvious, the muscle was attained not only through surviving, but also from training. There was also the nephew's attempt at attaining natural energy, a fool's folly, Lonkar shook his head at the thought. Sure there had been many attempts at having both mana and natural energy, but this was just not feasible! Theoretically it didn't make sense, not that this had stopped some of those mad scientists and kingdoms in the pursuit of superior soldiers. He took a bite of the bun, while his thoughts continued to wander, his nephew had become infinitely calmer and more collected, yet he still caught him from time to time with a haunted look, was this trauma? There wasn't a need to overthink it, he thought to himself, there'd be plenty of time for his nephew to adapt to society again, and there'd be plenty of time for him to get to know him again.
Barandir could feel Lonkar's gaze lingering on him, this wasn't the first time, it was clear that the uncle was still worried for him, even in Oakville he hadn't let him out of his sight when they had left the zeppelin. It was the concern of family, and it brought a warm feeling to Barandir's heart.
The sun was setting in a bright orange as they boarded the zeppelin. Barandir shielded his eyes as he walked up the wooden ramp with his cane. It was then that he felt it, a powerful surge of natural energy from his side, he couldn't help but snap his head in the direction, his eyes sharp as daggers, his hand tightened on the cane. What he saw was what appeared to be a pair of siblings in warrior garbs, their hair strangely grey despite their seemingly young age. The woman was infusing energy into the brother, although they tried to make it look as if they were simply drunk and holding each other's shoulders. He couldn't help but feel foolish when he realised that they weren't about to launch an attack, he had become rusty. He quickly used his cane to catch up to Lonkar who was now impatiently waiting at the top of the ramp.
. . . . .
It felt like a wild beast was staring at its prey, and they were that prey! When the gaze left them, the siblings shuddered discreetly, they still somehow kept the ruse up, but they had sweat running down their spines. The sister, confused, looked at Barandir who was hurrying up the ramp with his cane. There wasn't the least bit natural energy emanating from him, and mage's rarely, if ever, had any type of bloodlust or battle-aura, no matter how battle-hardened.
"What was up with that cripple?" the brother whispered under his breath.
"..." The sister didn't give an answer, because she didn't have one! It would appear that they would be travelling with a conundrum, she didn't like it when she couldn't explain something, it took away her control, and control, control, that was power.
. . . . .
While the pieces of history were slowly making their moves in the city of Cenharb, it didn't mean that the rest of the world stopped moving, waiting for that 'specific' game of chess to play out.
In a country across the sea from Cenharb, removed from the continent of Magnolia, lay the Luna Kingdom, it was technically an island state, despite its vast size, as the kingdom was surrounded by ocean, an ocean that bordered three continents. There had been attempts at colonizing the kingdom over its long history, but whatever local kingdom, they had all failed.
It was a kingdom in perpetual shades of darkness depending of the time of day. This had greatly affected the ecology over thousands of years, creating a strange ecosystem and unique biomes. The reason for this darkness was still shrouded in mystery, much like its inhabitants.
A tall grey-skinned man with long white hair, wearing a dark green coat and black pants pulled out a small flower that emanated magic. He placed the flower on a small spell diagram, that was drawn on the corner of his marbled desk. The flower withered as the diagram lit up. In the middle of the diagram a small sealed letter appeared. The man who appeared neither old nor young, picked up the letter, and leaned back in his chair.
With a light knock a young lady entered the room, she was similarly grey skinned and with pointy ears "you asked for me 3rd?" she spoke politely and with a small bow.
The man didn't respond to her immediately as he continued reading the letter. When he finally finished he folded it neatly, and put it on the table in front of him "there is plenty of news from Cenharb, and apparently they are facing an upsurge in worshippers" his voice emotionless and controlled, every word spoken with the utmost finesse.
The lady stood back up straight when the man spoke, her thick white hair braid falling from her left shoulder to her back "do we know to whom they worship?" she asked professionally.
The man shook his head as he folded his fingers and leaned in on the desk "which is why I need to send you there, we can't have these worshippers interfering with our plans in Cenharb, however the situation is hardly urgent, take the next zeppelin in a week, there isn't a need to waste resources on long-distance teleportation".
The woman nodded and turned around, leaving the man to his own thoughts.