The first night was cold. Winter was still leaving and Summer slow to arrive. Yet, despite the cold that would have made any other child shiver, Alaster did not. Not only because the cloak the Alderman gave him was warm, but because Alaster did not allow himself too.
All the children in the village had been taught about the monsters that called the forests their home, and the worst of them were mostly active when the sun set. Alaster had been taught more than most. He not only knew about the monsters, but their behaviors, as well as what they do to their prey.
The boy had climbed a tall tree and currently rested himself on one of the thicker branches. The trees in the forest grew tall and thick, their branches as well. Alaster was bigger than most of his peers, but he was still a child. Despite that, the branch was large enough for a grown adult to comfortably lay down, and as long as they did not roll around, they would be safe.
Alaster sat cross legged and searched through the bag the Elders of the Village had given him. Everything was as they said, except one thing. A small crystal attached to a necklace. Alaster recognized it immediately.
Last summer, a traveling merchant had come to the village. In his caravan, there was a Light Mage who specialized in images. They had a specific name, but Alaster could not remember it. He did however remember his father helping the Mage with something and the Mage saying she would give him a Sight Crystal.
His father had said that these Image Mages, as Alaster still could not remember the title, sold their services for a great deal of coin and that we should thank the mage. As the Mage patiently explained what the Sight Crystal was, Evelyn ran off to play, leaving only Alaster to listen.
A Sight Crystal was a crystal that a Light Mage had imprinted an image on. Anything the Light Mage saw when they held the crystal could be imprinted. Once they were done, the Crystal looked just like it had before, but when a bit of Mana was injected, it would reveal the image saved.
This particular Crystal had the image of Alaster's family saved inside of it. The boy still remembered the day it was saved. He had hugged his sister from behind as they both smiled wide. Behind them, His father had dressed up in his proper Guard's uniform, with his sword at his hip. His father had intended to look calm and collected, but just before the Light Mage saved the image, one of his friends had made a joke, causing him to laugh loudly. His mother was the only one that looked poised as she calmly held onto her husband's arm.
After it was done, Alaster's mother had injected some of her mana into the crystal and brought up the finale image. It amazed the boy, and he and Mike had asked the poor Light Mage a truly endless stream of questions until she left with the Caravan.
Coming out of his memories, Alaster wished for nothing more than to be able to see that image again. But he could not. Human children were unable to use mana until they turned fifteen and got their class. That was when the children were legally considered adults, though very few would actually consider them as such.
'Three years.' Alaster thought to himself, putting the necklace around his neck. 'Three years before I get my class and can see their faces again. Three years before I can even start my revenge.'
Classes were unique to the person, and while most got the same Common classes, like Warrior or Archer, some got more Rare classes. Classes such as Mage or Rogue. And the lucky few got Unique Classes, like Tamer or Seer.
Upon receiving a class, the child would also receive stats according to their class. Warriors would get more Strength and Constitution, with a hint of Agility. Archers and Rogues would get more Agility and Strength with some Constitution. While magical classes would get more Intelligence and Wisdom.
All the Beginner Classes were combat oriented. But once they reached Level Twenty, they could evolve their Classes into Intermediate Classes, which were vastly more complex and diverse. They would also be given a selection of what specific class they wished for. This selection would be reliant on what they did.
If a Warrior crafted a lot of armors, they could choose to evolve into an Armor Smith and receive bonuses to any armors they made, same with Weapon Smiths, or even the generic Blacksmith, who didn't get any special bonus to what they make, but instead are able to make it faster.
Their level would remain the same, and once they leveled to fifty, they could once again evolve. This time into an Expert Class. Their chosen class would then become even more specialized. Once they leveled to one hundred, it was believed to evolve for a final time into a Master Class, but if such a thing was true, so few achieved that level as to be a fairy tale.
As it was, most of the population reached the low end of Intermediate in their lives. Most knights were Intermediate as well. But the difference between a Level twenty-five and level thirty was staggering, and that was without taking the class differences into account. A Farmer and a Duelist of the same level would not even be in the same league.
Even the bonuses of the classes weren't equal. All the Beginner Classes gave the same twenty stat points, but after that each class was different. This difference was considered what differentiated the rarity of the class. The more rare, the better. A farmer was very common, while a Duelist were less so.
A Light Mage and a Duelist were considered the same rarity of class and gave the same stat point bonus, but magical classes were in reality much rarer to come across.
It was not common knowledge, but it was common enough for Alaster's father and the Elders of the village to know that what the child did before they turned fifteen had a minor effect on the class they received.
Alaster was certain that Tom would get a Warrior Type Class. Mike would likely get a Mage Type Class, but he could also get an Archer Type class. As for himself, Alaster had no idea. He was larger and stronger than most of the other kids, but he was also faster and when he wanted to, most couldn't find him. He was of quicker wit than even Mike, but he could also be just as stubborn as Tom when it came to it.
In truth, the boy could not figure it out. Even if he could know what Type of class he would get, the number of them was staggering for the village boy, and more were still being discovered, both Beginner and Evolved.
He hoped for a Mage Type. They are rarer to receive and much harder to level, but they grew into power quickly. A Mage Type in the low twenties was much stronger than say Warrior Types of the same level.
Alaster's Father, and in fact, all the guards, regularly said that in a battle, always target the Mage Types first. If left to their own devices, a single Mage Type could turn the tide of a battle of dozens. And that difference only grew as the Mage Type did.
Most of the strongest people in the Kingdom, at least the public ones, were Mage Types. But, the undisputed strongest of the Kingdom, was, in fact, a Warrior Type. The King's older brother.
Alaster recalled a night when a bunch of Guards visited their house in celebration of something and got drunk enough to talk politics in front of the children.
They said that while the Throne should have gone to the older brother, he publicly and quite vocally, rejected it, preferring to guard the Northern Borders. So his brother took his place. And while the king was tied up in managing the Kingdom, the Brother was busy guarding the North Border against the Gilaen Empire, The savages of the North, and the near constant Monster attacks.
Yet, against it all, He stood defiant, defending the snow capped mountains himself when needed. Thus earning him the North Sentinel. It was not public knowledge what his class actually was, as most preferred to keep them hidden. But it was known that he was much stronger and faster, 'than any human has the right to be', as one of the guards had put it. And that, despite losing his entire right side to a dragon's breath, continued to fight as his body repaired itself perfectly.
According to the Guards, the Sentinel refused to involve himself in politics, so long as they don't threaten the general wellbeing of the kingdom. In fact, over a decade ago, when his brother had fallen deeply ill for over a year, many of the more influential took power and began to corrupt the nation for their greed.
The Sentinel returned from his mountains for the first time since he abdicated the throne and slaughtered each and every one of them, across the kingdom, in one night. That night had since been called, 'Red River', as the blood of those corrupt had flown as if it was a river.
For a brief moment, Alaster considered traveling to the Fortresses of the North and pleading with the Sentinel to save his sister. But the snows would still be piled higher than the boy was tall, and it would take him a month just to reach the snows. There was no telling how long it would take Alaster to travel through the snow and reach the Fortresses, or even if the Sentinel would hear him, let alone agree.
And all that was dependent on surviving the trip. Forget the supplies or the clothes needed for such a trip, but even Intermediate Classed wouldn't want to make that trip without a large caravan with many trained people.
Alaster could hitch a ride with one such caravan, but those were closely monitored by the authorities for any criminals trying to escape, and even if he avoided them, he would not be able to avoid the fee. A fee that would be astronomical for the boy.
Alaster shook his head.
No, it would be best to follow the Alderman's instructions. Once in Onigas, Alaster would need to figure out what to do, but he doubted he would be able to leave the city again until he turned fifteen and got his class. Most Cities outright refused to allow children away from the protection of the Walls.
The boy was stirred from his thoughts by a low growl. Alaster frantically looked around for the source, but found that it came from a creature on the ground, nor had it been directed at him. Alaster quickly repacked the backpack, and held the dagger.
The Elders had warned him to avoid confrontation if possible, but if forced, to not hesitate to use the dagger. Alaster held tightly onto the grip of the dagger as he resolved himself to use it if needed, whether the foe be monster or man.