'Fuck,' I think to myself, panting, 'How in the name of the Saints did I get myself into this?' He lunges at me, his eyes glowing with a frenzied light that can only be seen in madmen. I dodge to the left, but his knife still grazes my leg, making me wince. 'Harvey owes me a drink after this, for sure,' I think, as I take a slash at his arm with my Blade. It hits, and glides through his arm as if there was nothing there. However, his arm falls limply to his side as if it didn't work. "Ah, i see, so that's the power of a Blade," he says, holding his knife closer to his chest, as if protecting it from another attack. "You didn't expect that, did you, you big bald bastard?" I taunted. Foolish, I know, but what can you expect, I'm tired.
"Come on," I say, checking my watch, "I have a dinner date with a chi-," all of a sudden, he lunged, catching me off guard. I back away, but my foot catches on the bedpost. I fall on my ass, and he jumps towards me again, his knife inches away from my neck..
"Ah! Shit! Fuck, what the hell was that?!" I sit up quickly in my bed, gasping for air and clutching my chest.
"Am I interrupting something, Ace?" A deep, smooth voice comes from one side of the room. A tall man, his skin the color of ground coffee, is standing at a doorway. "No, no. Thank you, Lirin, I can get ready by myself today." Right. Assignment day. Probably the worst day of the rest of my Saints' forsaken life. I hop out of bed, nearly falling over as the blood rushes to my head. I catch myself, though, and move to my closet. Right now, I'm only in a pair of black boxers and an old band shirt that my dad liked when he was young. It had a weird, graffiti-looking smiley face on it. I grab a pair of blue jeans, some long socks, a plain black shirt, and my boots for today from my closet, and set them on my messy bed. I walk over to the bathroom to take a shower before I change, though. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I walk past. My skin is white, with hints of pink, but moderately tan on my arms and face. My eyes and hair are both brown, my eyes flashing with gold flecks under the light. I am by no means muscular, but I'm not skinny or overweight either.
'Not bad, no bed head today,' I think as I scratch my head and wait for the water to heat up. Once it's at a suitable temperature, I hop in and lather myself up in soap, putting some shampoo in my hair as well. 'That dream was awfully realistic, I wonder if it means something,' I finish my shower, hop out and dry myself off, hanging the towel on a hook to dry and going over to my bed. I grab a pair of boxers since I forgot earlier, and put on my outfit, finally pulling my shirt over my head as I leave my room. Going down the stairs as quick as I can, I grab a muffin from the box on the counter, and head into my Mother's study. She was a fairly good looking woman, though her age was beginning to show in the wrinkles beside her eyes. "Mohnin' mah," I say, speaking through the bite of muffin in my mouth. "Alaric, I thought I taught you to swallow your food before speaking," she said sternly, fixing me with her death glare.
"Oh come on, ma, it's not like I'll choke and die over a small bite of a muffin," I say, exasperated. "Well, I had a friend who almost died from choking on a piece of carrot.." my mother trailed off. "Mom, im fairly sure the reason dad left is 'cause you always used to choke on little things, so there's no point in pretending that it wasn't you, and that it was a carrot." She looks away and sniffs. When nothing is said, I take my queue to leave.
Whistling a little tune, I walk down the hallway toward the main stairway. This is usually where my dad— or mom, now— greets guests at formal events or parties. I finally reach the grand double doors, pushing them wide open to the world, feeling the fresh lacquer against my palms.
A little while later, as I walk through the city centre, i accidentally bump into a man dressed rather fancy, with black pants, vest, and leather shoes, along with a white undershirt, a gold chain poking from a pocket on his vest. "Oh my, quite sorry, sir, I didn't see you there," he says, a strange accent tinging his voice. "It's all good, man, oh, but you did drop this," I crouch down to grab a wallet that must have fallen from one of his pockets. As a gesture of thanks, he hands me 200 kliks, and walks off.
'He seemed nice,' I think, tucking the bills into my own wallet. Continuing on, I finally reach the Cathedral of Purpose, a place where everyone has to go on their 17th Tempest. I walk in, taking in the many pews lining the sides, the large altar for marriages, funeral receptions, and Assignments laying directly ahead. Monsignor Markus was the leading Prelate of this year's Assigning. Just. Fucking. Wonderful. Markus was a total douchecanoe, and I'd been hearing rumors that he was getting.. frisky.. with some young girls.
I sit at the front, next to a short girl in all black, swinging her legs and humming to herself. I wait for my name to be called, amongst the other nearly 200 people here. "Lady Amanda Thorne," Markus calls, and the girl next to me stands and walks up to the Prelate as well as the Symbols. Each symbol describes a very blanketed term for your assignment, and depending on what else happens to it, it can determine what your true Assignment is. As she walked up to the altar, the Monsignor instructed her to place her hand over each symbol, one at a time. She complied, her hand gliding over each one slowly. After a moment of delay, Markus yells, "Aha! We have a new Thaumaturge! Truly a blessing!" Amanda walks back to her place next to me, grinning in a satisfied manner. "Oh- uhm.. Alaric Nyxveil?" Markus calls. I stand and walk up to the altar. He says the same thing he did to Amanda. I put my hand over each symbol, with it's own meaning; A hilt for a blade, for a Warrior, a small dagger pendant, for the Unlucky Few, and a small piece of rock, hewn into a small cathedral, for the Thaumaturges, or the mana-users.
The Warriors are the optimal choice, and I've been striving for them since I was a boy. The Unlucks were less known. Once picked, they were ushered from the cathedral by men in all black, and usually not seen again by peers. The Thaumaturges were a much larger blanket, covering mages, healers, priests (and their higher ranks), as well as utility casters. But, we never get what we want, and hence, the gem in the guard of the Dagger pendant began glowing a sickly, deep green. "Ah, I see! It appears we have a new Thaumaturge, Although, it seems your abilities are quite weak. Why don't we take you to the.. infirmary." Markus said, looking down. Two pairs of strong arms grabbed me and dragged me out of the cathedral, around back, and through into a small basement area. Soon after, for some reason, they drag that one girl, Amanda, into the area as well. They chain both of us to a wall, and the lock the door, with no other option, I collapse due to the sheer ridiculousness of it all, and my vision swims black..