The boy sat alone on the bed, in the dark, eyes obscured by a curtain of fair hair. He was in deep thought.
The room was spacious enough, with just about enough room for the bed and for him to stretch his legs. A sword was sheathed on his hip, with a single ruby embedded into the hilt. The sword gleamed with a crimson hue, the polished metals shining in the dark. At the foot of the bed, there was a battered,plain wooden bow propped up, with arrows spilling out of a leather quiver nearby.
So far the rounds of the first stage had been simple enough; Make your opponent unable to continue fighting. He had a feeling that the second stage would not be as simple as that.
They all had such powerful magic, he thought bitterly. He wished he could have had magic like that.
He got up, slinging his bow and quiver over his shoulder…but no matter how strong their magic was, he had to win! There was no other choice. They had to see their sins for what they really were!
He opened the door, light flooding into the room.
And besides, he thought with a smirk, it wasn't as though he was completely defenceless. Placing a wolf mask on his face, he strode forward with a spring in his step. The final battle was about to begin.
The open arena was a large rectangle in shape, large enough for powerful magic battles to take place. Spectators, seated on the rows of chairs above the arena, whispered feverishly as they waited for the final battle of the first round. They didn't have to wait long, as two curtains on opposite sides of the arena opened and two people walked out, a boy with fair hair and a wolf mask and a short, burly man. They stepped forward and bowed. The boy drew his sword.
The man couldn't believe it. All of his previous battles had been won out of pure luck and a bit of strategic thinking. His water magic was versatile and adaptable, but it lacked a lot of power.
That was the reason he struggled so much with his last battles. But the last opponent was just a child! He could only sense a tiny amount of magic in his frail body. He would be able to advance to the second round with no trouble at all.
He readied his magic, preparing to battle by stretching out his arms.
The boy had a mask over his face, so it was hard to tell what exactly he was thinking.
The mask itself caught his attention; it wasn't of any native design. It was a mask of a wolf, but instead of the usual grey tone of a wolf's fur, the mask was adorned by elegant swirls and patterns. Unusual, but why did he care? As long as he could win it was all irrelevant.
"Get ready, boy!" He outstretched his hand "Little children like you are out of your league-"
The boy ran forward with blinding speed, appearing behind the man in an instant. The spectators gasped; this speed had not been seen in anyone else before.
Sword outstretched, the boy smirked, " It would be best for you to surrender now, so that I don't have to hurt you"
What the hell was this kid? He could sense only a tiny amount of magic from him, yet he had crossed that entire distance in an instant. Was it with physical prowess alone? His legs shook like a tree in the presence of a giant. But he wasn't going to lose to someone as young as him!
Stretching both arms out, he let loose thin jets of water from his fingertips. The boy weaved and sliced through them, without moving from the spot. His control over the sword was as if it was a part of his own body. Every jet of water was reduced to a puddle on the floor. The boy was completely dry.
But the man hadn't been aiming for the boy. The jets had been aimed so that if the boy were to evade them, the boy would be surrounded by a ring of water on the floor.
His aim had been to bind the boy, not to hit him.
Coils of water erupted from the ring of water from every direction, too fast and too many for the boy to avoid. The boy, however, made no attempt to evade them.
Had he lost all hope already? The spectators whispers died down; the battle was already over.
The tentacles of water grabbed him, and held his hands behind his back. His sword fell with a clatter to the floor. A coil of water seized his bow and quiver, and threw it to the other side of the arena. He stayed silent, limp in the water's grasp.
The man strode forward.
"This is why you don't try to swim in deep water, boy. Inexperienced children like you will drown." He grinned, amazed at how lucky he was to get an opponent as weak as him. "Now, how about we see the face behind this dog mask of yours"
The man pulled back the mask to reveal a boy, who looked slightly annoyed. Considering the situation he was in, he was surprisingly calm. He tossed the mask to the side.
Just like his mask suggested, the boy wasn't native to this country; his fair hair was a stark contrast to the dark hair usually found in Hashenhal, and his face was a lot more defined. A scowl was touching his thin lips. His brown eyes rose to meet the man's blue eyes.
"I warned you to surrender, so that I wouldn't have to hurt you. I'm not the one to blame for what happens next."
The tentacle's grip tightened, and the man's fists started shaking.
"I don't know what you're talking about, boy!" This boy was starting to get on his nerves. How was he able to stay this calm when he was like this? "You've lost. I've won! You are the one who's going to get hurt."
The boy closed his eyes.
"You've forgotten that I have still magic. You dismissed my magic as being weak and useless at the start of this battle. I can tell. That was your mistake."
He opened his eyes again and smiled in earnest.
"Look down"
The man's eyes darted down to see a round ball next to the sword. That hadn't been there before.
He didn't realise it was a bomb until it had already detonated.
The shock of the explosion rippled through the solid coils of water and turned it into a lifeless liquid.
Man, boy and sword were all propelled in the air.
Grabbing the sword out of the air, the boy let loose a powerful barrage of blunt slashes in mid-air.
The man didn't stand a chance.
He fell on his back with a thud, unable to continue.
The boy landed elegantly, greeted by the stunned silence and the astonishment of the spectators. Facing the crowd, he sheathed his blade.
"I am the one who will bring the Ruined Lands out of darkness. In order to do so, I will overcome every and any challenge that stands in my way. Be it man, monster, machine or other, there is no other choice for me but to fix this broken world!"
Cheers and passionate expressions of support greeted his words.
He bellowed over the commotion of the crowd
"My name is Salieri Dabaso!"
On that day, a light was sparked in the darkness of The Ruins.
It was just as he had predicted; the second round was not going to be as simple as before. He wasn't ready for how exactly it would be different though; he had to go on a hunt for his cabin.
After the battle, he had been instructed to go to cabin 165, with no other explanation.
Or a map.
He would have really appreciated a map, he thought resentfully. It would have saved him more than a few hours of searching, through the crowded tow and plains.
The sun was already beginning to set, and with it the joy of winning that battle so effortlessly.
How did they expect him to find the cabin so easily? It was in the middle of one of the densest forests that this country was covered in, at least a few miles away from the arena he fought in.
Most of the people he asked for help didn't know much either, just vague ideas to where he should go. He eventually got lucky and found someone who knew what they were doing, or at least knew where to go. Cabin 165 was in the north, in the Forest of Ardent.
Strangely enough, the man had a mask just like his own, but instead of a wolf mask, it was a fox. He should have asked him where he got it. Maybe he also came from somewhere like himself…
His mind wandered as his sword danced through the branches that were in his way, carving a clear path for himself. Sweat trickled down his face. It was a lot warmer now.
That man…it all came back to him.
He reminded himself of his goal. Although he told everyone his goal was to fix this dystopian nightmare, it was a lot more than that. And his first job was to find him… Hate burned in his heart like the flames ravaging the forest…
Wait, flames ravaging the forest?
He was wrenched back to reality when a flame drifted inches away from his face.
With a yelp of pain, he fell on his back. Where had all of this fire come from?
And this wasn't normal fire caused by a lit match or something. This was fire created by magic, which means that there had to be someone who started it. Was there a battle nearby or something? Was it an attack on the country? There were plenty of other countries that would love to take over Hanenal.
He stumbled to his feet, snatching his sword from the ground and sprinting forwards. He ducked and weaved through the flames trying to burn him, using his sword to bat away the fire when they got too close.
Using the little magic that was inside of him, he tried to find the source of the magic.
There!
He swerved to the right. The magic was strongest from there!
He had to find the person who started this, or something to put out the fire with. There was no way his own magic could put out a fire this big.
But magical fire could only burn as long as the user is still able to use magic; it uses the magic of the user as fuel. How much magic do you have to have to be able to make this many flames?
He didn't know and it made him feel slightly anxious. This suffocating magical energy made him think of that person's magic…
He heard voices from straight ahead.
"Are you stupid? You're going to burn down half the forest! Do you mind actually controlling your fire?"
"S-Shut up! This is your fault! Who told you to deflect the fire that way? And I couldn't care less about that forest anyway."
The source of the fire was that way! It looked like she wasn't going to stop burning the forest either.
After hours of searching for the cabin, he wasn't in the mood for negotiations. She would have to be put out with force.
He sliced through bushes and jumped out into the open, where the voices were coming from. So this was where the cabin was! If he had found it in different circumstances, he would have been happy. As he was now, he had to get ready to fight. He tried to assess the situation, and be aware of the area he would have to fight in…
Only for a large wave of mud to fall from the sky and smother him.
Taken by surprise, he collapsed under the volume of mud. Staggering up, he wiped the sludge off of his face, coughing out the mud in his mouth.
He stared forward and saw four people gazing at him, surprised by someone jumping out of nowhere..
There was an overexcited child, giggling at Salieri's misfortune, not seeming to know or care that there was mud all over his own clothes as well.
There was a haughty woman with her nose up at Salieri, disgusted by seeing such a filthy person, despite being the one who caused all of this in the first place.
There was a girl who, at first, seemed to be unable to control the fire that trailed from her hair and hands, about the same as Salieri. However, when she saw him coated in mud, the fire dwindled into nothing as she fought the urge to laugh. She was trying to look away so that no one would see her laughing, but she kept feeling the need to look at his muddy figure again.
And finally, there was a weedy boy standing away from all of the commotion, looking at Salieri with pitying eyes, as if he wanted to help him, but didn't want to start another fight.
Salieri spat more mud out his mouth and gritted his teeth. He trudged towards the cabin under the sombre moonlight , looking for a place to wash up.
He hated these people already.