Al-Quaral, Capital City of Arachel Kingdom (Pic)
Al-Quaral Skyship Station
"Darn it! I lost again!"
A red hair shouted in resignation as he raised both hands in surrender. The older men laughed heartily. The red-haired was sitting on a stool, eyes intently at the cards laid in front of him on a battered wooden table. Opposite him was a ragged bearded man, bulging with muscles.
"Heh! Darn me' luck, runnin' to a kid like you. 'Am startin' to feel guilty takin' your school money. But alas! 'Am a man without conscience! Har! Har! Har!" The bearded man laughed and soon followed by the booming laughter of the scruffy men around them.
The red hair slipped a grin, unaffected. The lazy smile on his lips and the loopy curved of his eyes screamed naivety. A privilege of the youth. Draped in formal red uniform of Arcane academy, an Armalest armband on his right hand, and a stunning gold earring on his left ear.
Rever Ixion, the happy-go-lucky man in the south. (Pic)
None of the bigger men slighted Rever one bit. Even if he were not a student in the prestigious Arcane academy, no one would oppress the youth. That feeling that they only felt when the waves might crush their ships, and all of them hurled the sails together, surviving the task and returned home the next day in complete limbs.
They felt it. The boy was one of them. He was a survivor.
"Alright! One more time!"
Rever tucked his sleeves up to his elbow, ready for another round. He looked more like a rogue than a student with his messy strip shirt, unbuttoned red jacket, and loose necktie hanging on his shoulder.
The men laughed as they took their bets. No mercy in gambling. Either leave with pockets full of gold or leave with nothing but your underwear.
Amidst the laughing raggedy men, a short lady with long pinkish hair walked right past them. Her droopy eyes glued forwards, and her poker face couldn't be bothered. Her height and petite frame were enough to pass her as a kid, if only not for her red Arcane uniform and silver bracer on each hand.
Her air of laziness was contagious as she wandered her way towards her ship, carrying an enormous backpack as large as her on her back. Her tight black under shorts sewed longer than her skirt.
Rin Zilva, the little sleeper. (Pic)
As Rin walked around with half-opened eyes, she was bound to bump into someone. And the unfortunate guy happened to be a giant in build.
"Oops . . . sorry . . . ," Rin mumbled and resumed walking like nothing happened.
"Ah, no. It's my fault," replied a voice deeper than the Dead Sea. But Rin was already meters away. His silver eyes remained glued on Rin's back for a brief moment before he resumed his walk.
People gave way as he passed. Everyone avoided eye contact as he roamed his gaze. His appearance might have caused a shock to many. Not because of his red Arcane uniform worn wrong with his white tieless untucked shirt and unbuttoned red jacket. It was because of the silver markings on his skin, a pattern that covered half of his face, unique to the Mubal tribe. And probably because he towered over everyone and primarily because of his dark skin.
Galahad Mubal, champion of the Mubal clan. (Pic)
Eldest son of the chieftain of the Mubal tribe, a group of nomads that raised legendary untamed breeds of Phantoms, creatures in three meters long and two meters in height with eight legs –– more beast than a horse. They were known for their endurance, stamina, speed, and power.
The Mubal tribe was famous precisely because only they could tame these wild horses.
The Mubal tribe was only one of the many tribes of nomads in the vast plain in the Kingdom of Arachel. These tribes were not bound by any laws but their tribe laws.
It was a known fact that the King of Arachel's greatest wish was to unite all these tribes into his banner, even at the expense of marrying his sons and daughters to the chieftains' children.
But up to now, there was still no news of this exploit.