In Astrylia, they say there's a thin line between being brave and just plain foolish. As Nero stands in the middle of the forest, looking at explosions far away, he's starting to think he might have gone too far.
Nero, at twenty-eight, is just an ordinary guy. He doesn't have any special talents, skills, or fancy education. The one thing that sets him apart is his lifelong dream of becoming a mage. He's been obsessed with it since he was five. It's been his driving force all his life, as he's traveled the world, hoping to find a way to make it come true.
After years of searching through old books and worn-out papers, he's finally found a way. The only catch? He has to win a tournament against the most powerful mages in the world. It might sound crazy, because, well, it probably is. But it's too late for second thoughts.
As Nero stands here, knowing he can never return to his old life, there's a strange mix of excitement and doubt coursing through him. Maybe he's lost his mind completely. He expected fear, but all he feels is an unshakable thrill. He's closer to his dream than ever before. The looming dangers seem distant, and he's fixated on the prospect of finally becoming a mage.
An explosion echoes a few hundred feet away. The battles have begun. One of them is dangerously close. Nero knows he can't afford a fight with any mages at this stage. Survival depends on avoiding combat for as long as possible.
He moves in the opposite direction of the blast. As he nears the forest's edge, he hears voices. Two mages converse in a nearby clearing. They've just finished a skirmish. One is a rugged figure, donned in stained clothes, a belt of throwing knives, and a sinister grin. Confidence oozes from his eyes, marking him the victor. The other mage, bald with a scar shaped like an 'X' on his forehead, clings to his sword, his armor heavy and shield abandoned.
Nero recognizes him as the legendary mage Inixius, renowned as the savior of the Eastern Continent. Tales of his heroic feats fill pages, yet here he stands, defeated by a common thug.
The man in the white shirt mocks Inixius, exposing the disillusionment in the face of his idol. The laughter stops abruptly.
"Who's there?" he demands, turning towards Nero.
Hiding behind a tree, Nero's heart races. He says nothing, his breath barely a whisper.
"I know you're there, coward. Show yourself, or a knife will find you!" threatens the thug.
"I see no reason to show myself to you," Nero replies, voice steady.
A pause hangs in the air before the thug speaks again, his voice betraying a hint of fear.
"A torrent, eh?" he remarks, the tremor giving away his unease.
His sudden change of attitude towards Nero is not entirely unexpected. The existence of torrents is one of the main reasons Nero dared to dream that he might have a chance to win this tournament. Torrents are a very rare breed of mages, known to be incredibly powerful. One of them is said to have destroyed an entire city in an instant some twenty years ago, with only a flick of his fingers. The city of Olmnar was said to have been one of the greatest cities on this continent, but it was wiped off the map just like that, in a single second. Such is the power of these torrents.
"You don't scare me, torrent! I'm going to fill you with holes and you'll end up begging me for mercy! I bet your legends are no more true than they were for this sad excuse for a mage standing next to me."
"That's funny," Nero tells him. "That's almost the same thing the people of Olmnar told me. Before I burned their city to the ground."
After Nero says that, there's a long pause in which none of them say anything.
"You're bluffing," the mage says.
"I guess there's only one way to find out, then," Nero tells him, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.
The few seconds of silence that followed felt like the longest seconds in his life. After a long pause, the mage says, finally:
"You're in luck, torrent. I'm feeling merciful today. I'm going to be out of your hair just as soon as I finish this guy here."
"You do that and you'll regret it," Nero says without thinking. His last sentence seems to have taken the mage aback.
"What, are you kidding me? You're going to defend this lowlife?"
"If I have to. Do I have to?"
The mage once again falls silent. He doesn't seem to want to push his luck any further. After a while, Nero hears him put his daggers back into his belt and then spit on the ground.
"I'll remember this, torrent. Don't think I won't. You'll rue the day you messed with Cutthroat Jack. And the same goes for you, healer in armor. I'll be seeing the both of you again soon."
After he finishes his speech, he turns away in disgust as he heads into the woods on the opposite side of the clearing. Once Nero can no longer see the mage, he lets out a big sigh. That was close. That was really close. He can still feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest.
"You do that and you'll regret it? What was I even thinking? Was I trying to get myself killed? This is a life and death tournament, Nero. This is not the time for you to start playing hero."
As Nero tries to calm himself down, the mage in armor sheathes his sword, picks up his shield from the ground, and starts walking towards him.
"You had no obligation to save me," he says. "But you did so anyway, at the risk of your own life. I cannot let such selflessness go unrewarded. I, Inixius, vow this day that I will offer you my protection from this moment, and until the end of this tournament. Tell me, brave soul, what is your name?"
His speech took Nero by surprise.
"It's, uhh.. It's Nero. My name is Nero."
"Wait, your name's Nero?"
Inixius tries to contain his laughter but fails miserably. He was trying to sound solemn and dignified just a few seconds ago, but it seems it didn't really take him long to drop his act.
"Now that's the weirdest name for a mage I've heard in my life. Especially for a torrent. Do you have something you want to tell me, Nero?"
"I'm not a torrent, Inixius. That thug just assumed I was and I took advantage of the situation."