***
Leonidas cursed as he woke up.
Defeat had found him.
Not at the hands of a god, Titan, or Giant—yet by a human.
Disappointment simmered within him like a bothersome tumor. He tried in vain to convince himself, 'This is a foreign realm; I must not dwell on this loss.' But the feeling clung tenaciously, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
Drawing a labored sigh, he attempted to dispel his troubling thoughts, surveying his surroundings. The sun's warm rays caressed his skin, while a delicate scent beckoned his senses. In the distance, he discerned an array of buildings, perched atop a verdant hill, though they were too far to thoroughly examine them.
Beside him lay stationed an assemblage of armored men riding atop their steeds. At the center of the formation, a tall, middle-aged soldier brandished a crimson flag high above his head. Leading the procession, placed on the vanguard, was Sir Bál'zak, grasping the reins of the very same horse carrying Leonidas.
As Leonidas' gaze fell upon Sir Bál'zak's figure, curiosity consumed him. 'What was that power? Its flames could rival those forged by Hephaestus himself. This world... just what is it?'
Sir Bál'zak turned, as if able to feel Leonidas' eyes on him. A blank expression adorned his features—save for a thin, amused smile curling at the edge of his lips. "Your efforts in battle were... past adequate. I trust you've recovered from your wounds?"
"Y-yes," Leonidas stuttered, taken aback by the abrupt question. "However," his voice grew hushed and grave. "What was that power you wielded?"
"Power?" Sir Bál'zak's eyebrow arched quizzically. "Do you refer to the spell?"
"I speak of the inferno," Leonidas responded, matching his puzzled expression.
"Ah, Celestia," Sir Bál'zak intoned, as though that clarified everything. "Given your status, it's reasonable for you not to have encountered a spell like the one I wielded. Nevertheless, I expect you'll encounter more of them once you join an Academy."
A persistent curiosity gnawed at the back of Leonidas' mind. 'What exactly is Celestia?' He yearned to pose that question, yet refrained for fear of appearing foolish. Instead, he asked, "What happens within an Academy?"
"An Academy is where one pursues a profession," Sir Bál'zak explained. "However, only those who possess exceptional talents in accordance with the Empire's standards are permitted entry. As a result, ninety percent of our populace are mere commoners." He paused for a moment before continuing, "That is, unless they excel in blacksmithing."
Leonidas nodded, despite still being confused. "And what careers will I be able to choose?"
"Alchemist, Vitaliter, Runer; though in truth their distinctions are irrelevant. Given your evident skill as a swordsman and your ability to manipulate the environment, I have no doubt you are destined to be a Battle-Mage," Sir Bál'zak responded. "It's a challenging path but ultimately rewarding."
"I understand." Ideas began forming in Leonidas' thoughts. "Which of these occupations would bestow the greatest influence upon me?"
Eyebrows raised in surprise by the question, but Sir Bál'zak elaborated, "As an Alchemist you would wield significant economic influence. However as a Battle-Mage you would not only enjoy political clout but also admiration from commoners and nobles alike. If that is all, I have a question of my own; how did you manage to learn Environmental Manipulation?"
Internally cursing, Leonidas replied hesitantly, "I don't recall. It seems I acquired the skill instinctively."
"Truly?" Sir Bál'zak's face revealed his deep amazement. "Most fascinating. But we shall continue this discussion later; we have arrived at Thyranda."
Unknowingly, time had slipped by like sand through fingers as they chatted, leaving them at the threshold of Thyranda. The forest receded enough to allow for the settlement to emerge, pockets of greenery embracing the earthen-hued gateway. At a distance it appeared small, yet up close it loomed large, buildings overshadowing Leonidas with their imposing stature. Within the entrance stood a concealed, slender gate flanked by armored guards reminiscent of those within Leonidas' battalion.
Approaching Sir Bál'zak, both sentinels bowed their heads in respect. In unison they placed two fingers over their hearts, and intoned, "Glory be to the Maléficar of the East; Glory be to Skygard; Glory be to the King."
"Glory be to the Human Race," Sir Bál'zak finished. The guards lifted their heads, and flashed a smile. "Are there carriages for the Evaluation?"
"Yes, Maléficar," replied the sentinel on the right. "There is an abundance of carriages available. It has been ages since a young man from the East has met the Empire's requirements. Our region is regrettably lagging behind the others. It disheartens me greatly." As he turned to face Leonidas, he offered another bow, which Leonidas hesitantly acknowledged with a nod. "Is this young man," he straightened himself and addressed Sir Bál'zak, "your apprentice?"
"He is vouched by me; I have personally overseen his Evaluation," Sir Bál'zak declared before adding, "He is quite an interesting lad."
Leonidas stayed silent, unsure if he had just received praise or insult.
"Remarkable! A Maléficar sponsoring a lad?" The soldier on the left appeared both shocked and impressed. He glanced at Leonidas' attire, and his expression momentarily betrayed disgust but quickly recovered.
"Yes, indeed," confirmed Sir Bál'zak. "Now, let us proceed."
The soldiers offered another bow before stepping aside to let the battalion pass. Sir Bál'zak gestured for Leonidas to dismount his horse and then addressed Azazoras; the middle-aged soldier carrying their banner. "I have more pressing matters to attend to." Drawing near, he whispered something imperceptible, before giving one final glance toward Leonidas and riding away on his steed.
He noticed Azazoras now had his full attention at him. 'They spoke about me.' Leonidas observed. For what reason? He didn't know. With a short breath, he walked into the gates.
Inside Thyranda was a bustling scene. Numerous tall and slender huts filled the village square, their unkempt exteriors in dire need of attention. Separated by wooden planks stood the merchants, promoting their products. The diverse crowd of locals, adorned in tattered robes, mingled and conversed joyously.
"Potions aplenty for just five coppers, cauldron included!" a merchant shouted. Upon noticing the soldiers, he adjusted his price without hesitation: "A potion set on offer! Yours for only one gold!"
One soldier dryly chortled. "Swindlers," he muttered.
As they walked in the concrete road, onlookers gazed upon them. They all lowered their head, then bowed, after doing so, they put their left-handed, two fingers over their heart; all a gesture of respect, Leonidas assumed.
Leonidas had to remind himself: this is a new realm. The people here acted all too similar to the ones back home. He almost forgot, he had fifteen years to claim kingship again. He mustn't fail.
In the distance, Leonidas observed a single-file line teeming with teenagers, both young women and men who appeared to be of similar age as him. Anxiety marked their faces as they nervously fiddled with their fingers and shifted in place. Their tattered, dirt-stained robes spoke clearly of their low social standing.
A few miles away, an open road showcased a collection of regal carriages. They took on an elegant oval shape, each one harnessed by three poised horses ready to bolt. The carriages were beautiful, carved of an intricate, silver-colored material which radiated underneath the sunlight.
Beyond the row of apprehensive teenagers stood additional huts filled with boisterous merchants. Each hawked their products enthusiastically, all save for one merchant at the very back.
"Lad," Azazoras beckoned, snapping Leonidas from his observations. He reached into his armored garb and retrieved a pouch with a metallic clank. "The carriage is not yet here. Take a moment to explore and shop while you wait for its arrival. I'll be conducting an Evaluation," he gestured toward the line of teenagers before adding a warning, "But do not stray too far. There will be a soldier stationed to keep watch over you."
Leonidas took the pouch, and thanked him. "What of those carriages?" He asked, pointing to the carriages placed in the rear.
"Those carriages are designated for common folk," Azazoras explained. "You may be a commoner yourself, but since a Maléficar vouched for you, you are required to use a noble's carriage instead."
"I see," Leonidas said in understanding. "And why mustn't I travel far?" A hint of disappointment resided in the back of his head; he wanted to explore.
"I must be forthright – Sir Bál'zak and I don't trust you just yet. In time, you may earn that trust, but for now, we must keep a close watch over your activities, that is, until the carriage arrives. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Leonidas replied. He wasn't bothered by Azazoras' words, on the contrary; he was thankful. At least he told the truth, a characteristic that plenty didn't hold. "May I depart?"
Azazoras nodded. "Glory be to the Maleficars; Glory be to the Skygard; Glory be to the King." He placed two fingers over his heart.
"Glory be to humans," returned Leonidas, two fingers hovering over his heart. He was uncertain if his response was correct but to his luck, he noticed no disapproval from Azazoras.
With coins jingling in his pouch, Leonidas set off, journeying onto the nearby shops.
***