Magic is split into three underlying parts. Three directions of one story: Rise, peak, and fall. Three sections of one song: Verse, chorus, and bridge. Three segments of one sentence: a subject, a verb, and a complete thought.
Magic is split into three parts.
Core. 'Faira'.
Branch. 'Saira'.
And Auxiliary. 'Gaira'.
The core consists of only five words. Five archaic letters forming the main alphabet of a much larger syllabus. Every law in this world, bound to five elementary sounds. Kaiser's son was now performing the first of the five. The forethought of action. The noise of a simple. . . 'push'.
Raze's eyes sparked purple, a notable contrast to Kaiser's gold. A mark of a junior caster. White, red, blue, yellow, purple, golden. The hierarchy of talent had made itself prominent throughout eternity. Those bearing the first three colors were considered lacking, wastes of magic power. The fourth was considered average and malleable. Purple was a talent. And gold marked a genius.
But ranking did not mean everything. Kaiser's own mark began as yellow, an average caster through and through. Dedication is what molded him into today's monster. A yellow turned gold. A peasant challenging the heavens. A peasant who won.
The Archmage bore the widest smile.
'Purple. . . to think the son has already surpassed the father.' Even though the hierarchy was not set in stone, being talented meant being loved. Faster comprehension of the arts. More powerful magic abilities and a higher threshold for energy. The child's future would be great.
Raze proceeded with his chant, the veins inside pale arms glowing an ethereal shine. Flecks of mana swirling around air and soil. It entered through pores and orifices, nestled inside one's body. Vessels for words, that is what casters call themselves. A ship for fallen ancients. To house their story. Make know their speech. As the great ruler of law and exchange decreed.
A low thrum gained momentum, humming as Raze channeled the world's words. Mouth aching to form the notes of yore, unfamiliar to him, all while looking like a pufferfish on land. Kaiser, laughing heartily, decided to lend him a hand. A 'push', if you will.
"Follow me, son."
An embarrassed nod.
"Begin the first word. A tone of old. The noise of a 'push'. It's call is. . . Eth."
"E-ethe?"
Nay.
"No stuttering, please. Eth."
"Eeth."
Again.
"Roll the 'e' less. It's primordial language, not some fancy dressing. Eth."
"Etth"
Almost.
"One more time. You hit your tongue just now. Eth."
Raze paused. A solemn moment. A pondering, determined gaze. A correct word.
{ETH.}
Suddenly, the morning snapped into attention. Power rose from the earth and land, from the skies and above. A contract to aid those who spout the magic. Around them, morning-dew grass rustled side to side. The silent breeze crept up for its daily greetings. And Raze stood in a daze, wondering dumbly why nothing had happened when it already had. Kaiser guffawed.
Hearing his father's unrestrained laughter, Raze stormed angrily towards him and gave a light kick to the shin, which Kaiser ignored completely in favor of toppling down and continuing his giggling seizure. Raze flushed red like a tomato.
"WHAT?! DAD!"
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
Raze kicked his spasming father in the gut.
"AHAHA-OOF"
Raze did not stop kicking.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Son you're going to kill your father- ow, ow, ow, ow. That's it- ow."
Kaiser quickly uttered a cry, conjuring countless chains to erupt into the air. The Archmage twirled a finger, and the steel ropes bound his unruly son comfortably into a bundle. Another syllable willed the air itself solidified, forming a rectangular prison laxly surrounding Raze's dimensions.
"Aha!" Kaiser shouted from the floor. "Just give up, boy. You cannot win against your ol' pops."
Raze seemed unimpressed. He stretched and punched at the box.
"No way that would work, son! It might be weak, but it's nothing a junior caster like you can-"
The chains broke immediately, and the walls shattered upon contact.
"-break?"
'What?' Kaiser stared, befuddled. He could have swore the energy used in manifesting that box was out of even a purple junior caster's league. It was confounding, to say the least. The Archmage had sensed not a lick of mana in that punch, and imbuing material objects with power was in the realm of masters, not children. Then a revelation struck him.
'Of course, the blood of one's own kin can disrupt a caster's magic.' It was an odd rule, even for the standards of ruler. Why give the family of casters such an ability? It gave a sense of vulnerability. A weakness to exploit. Kaiser had always feared weakness, but was it because it was his own son that he came to find it tolerable? Family was considered his largest weak point, yet it bothered him not?
Obviously because he loved them.
He smiled. 'How would I ever bear to lay a single finger on my family?'
Raze smug look filled his vision.
"Daddy, your restrictions are too weak! I can blast them apart with one punch now!"
"Haha! It's because my little boy has become so powerful! You're gonna surpass me soon, Raze!"
They both laughed heartily, each with different emotions in their heart, but laughing all the same.
It was then that Kaiser noticed a shadow lingering at the corner of the training room, and an almost impossibly soft smile bloomed on his rough features. He beckoned the shadow over.
"Ishtar, my darling wife. Why do you loiter there? Come see our son! He has become so strong now, able to break my restrictions like putty, haha. We should celebrate before my training! I've promised you a night alone, and I intend to keep my word, my dear."
Raze imperceptibly blushed at the last part and turned away, while the shadow shook visibly before stepping closer into the light. Abruptly, Kaiser's somewhat sleazy grin melted away into a snarl, his eyes narrowing wildly into cruel, pinprick dots of darkness.
For Ishtar, beautiful and of grace, had walked into sight with an expression of unwillingness, and a cold dagger against her bare throat. The Archmage almost lost it seeing a line of blood drawn. He suppressed his emotions, and hatefully questioned the figure behind her.
"You. What are you doing, old friend."
A frail, old man stepped past the boundary of anonymity. A knowing expression pasted on wrinkled face. A joking feeling of 'oops, you've found me out' shown while the decrepit thing coughed onto his sleeve. But Kaiser was too far from any feeling of joy right now. Even if this was a joke, someone was going to be incapacitated over it. The heavy, charged malice in the air proved it.
"Give me an answer quickly, Prime Minister A-N-D-E-R-S-O-N."
Anderson beamed a happy, toothless grin.
"What else could it be, old friend? I'm here to betray you-"
A sudden hacking cough, guttural and gross.
"-and also kill you while I'm at it."
Kaiser's features were now shrouded entirely in gloom. A horrifying, soulless grin cracking across an empty porcelain face. Immense bloodlust drowned out the world, dyeing it red, a river of corpses.
Raze hid quickly behind the back of his father.
Ishtar looked on worryingly from the clutches of the enemy.
Anderson smiled bitterly, unfazed by all.
While Kaiser's beat had started its deadly thrum.
The deathmatch, begins.