In the secluded enclave of the Arcanists, time seemed to ebb and flow like the currents of magic itself. Under the guiding wing of Aurelia, Alaric embarked on a journey of discovery, delving into the depths of his own potential.
As the years passed, Alaric found himself immersed in the intricate study of magical theory and practice. Under the watchful eye of his mentor, Elena, he honed his abilities, mastering spells that danced with the flicker of arcane energy. Eventually, their small camp grew to become a large site housing hundreds of students.
Elena was a stern yet compassionate teacher, her wisdom spanning centuries of experience. With each lesson, she pushed Alaric to unravel the mysteries of the arcane, guiding him through the intricate web of spells and incantations.
In the quiet halls of the enclave, Alaric found solace amidst the chaos that gripped the land of Elysium. Outside their sanctuary, whispers of unrest grew louder with each passing day. The ruling elite tightened their grip on power, their fear of magic driving them to desperate measures.
But within the walls of the enclave, Alaric found purpose. Here, surrounded by fellow seekers of knowledge, he felt a sense of belonging he had never known before. Together, they studied ancient tomes and practiced rituals passed down through generations, their shared passion for magic binding them together as allies in the face of adversity.
As Alaric's skills grew, so too did his understanding of the world around him. He learned of the ancient prophecy that foretold the return of an ancient evil, a darkness that threatened to consume all of Elysium in its wake. With each passing day, the whispers of unrest grew louder, echoing through the very fabric of reality itself.
But even amidst the chaos, there were moments of respite. In the quiet moments between lessons, Alaric found himself drawn to the serene beauty of the enclave's gardens, where the fragrance of blooming flowers mingled with the faint hum of magic in the air.
It was there that he often met Elena, his mentor, whose gentle smile belied the strength of her powers. She was also the gardener who tended to the plants. Together, they would spend hours lost in conversation, sharing their hopes and fears for the future.
Under Elena's guidance, Alaric's abilities flourished. He learned to harness the elements themselves, bending fire and water to his will with a flick of his wrist. He delved into the depths of shadow magic, mastering spells that cloaked him in darkness and obscured him from prying eyes.
There were seven types of magic in Elysium, but these types could be interweaved to form different attacks. These types included: fire, earth, water, spiritual, shadow.
Alaric trained hard everyday. From learning the history of magic from tomes and various mage scholars, to practicing mage combat with Elena and practicing spell incantations with Aurelia.
But as his powers grew, so too did the weight of responsibility that rested upon his shoulders. With each passing day, shadows of doubt began to creep into Alaric's mind.
Was he truly ready to face the darkness that loomed on the horizon? Or would he falter in the face of adversity, his powers unable to stem the tide of chaos that threatened to consume them all?
As the years passed, Alaric grappled with these questions, his determination tempered by the knowledge that the fate of Elysium rested in his hands. But with each challenge he faced, he grew stronger, his resolve steeling him against the encroaching darkness.
However, Alaric couldn't help but think of the plight of Elysium.
He knew that for generations, the kingdoms had coexisted in an uneasy peace, their borders marked by treaties and alliances forged in the fires of diplomacy. But beneath the surface, tensions simmered, fueled by centuries-old rivalries and the ever-present clash between tradition and progress.
It began with whispers, murmurs of discontent that echoed through the halls of power. In the kingdom of Arcadia, where the ancient arts of magic held sway, whispers of unrest grew louder as the ruling elite sought to maintain their stranglehold on the mystical energies that flowed through their veins.
Meanwhile, in the neighboring kingdom of Techna where Alaric was from, where the wonders of technology reigned supreme, whispers of revolution filled the air as the people clamored for equality in the face of arcane oppression. Alaric could recall when the streets were filled with posters of revolution and the atmosphere was charged with excitement for war. The conflicts were minor, skirmishes over land and resources that threatened to erupt into open warfare at any moment.
To him, they were excuses for war. War to prove that Techna was superior.
Alaric shuddered, nervousness and anxiety written all over his face. Then, he felt the gentle and comforting touch of a hand wrap around his.
Elena's black locks of hair cascaded and framed her face perfectly, her deep blue eyes staring deep into Alaric's green eyes.
"If there's anything you need, I'll be right here for you." Alaric sighed as he stared off at the violets that swayed in the late evening breeze. "Will Elysium ever be at peace? Will those kingdoms remain steadfast in their desire to protect their citizens?"
Elena squeezed her hand tighter around his, flashing a warm smile at Alaric. "Alaric, those choices and decisions are not yours to make. What you can do is, to follow the path you want to take. You're a great person, with boundless courage and determination to do things. With enough effort, you're bound to make significant progress in whatever endeavour you do. As your mentor, I can assure you, you are not lacking in any attitude or aptitude. All you need is a vote of confidence." Elena winked at Alaric, then patted him on the back.
Alaric looked down at his feet, pondering. He scratched his head sheepishly and said: "I'm really grateful for your support, Elena. Your actions and words have helped me in so many ways, you don't know it yet. I wish I could repay you."
Elena giggled and smiled. "There's no need, Alaric. Just serve your purpose well and don't stop trying to do the right thing."
He walked to his tent and turned in for the night.
Alaric couldn't help but open his heavy eyelids as he felt an insufferably stuffy sensation inside of the tent. Something was off. The tip of a magic dagger barely grazed his neck, before Alaric summoned fire to burn the assailant, then raised earth to pierce their neck and crush their skull.
Before Alaric could gather a sense of what was going on, he heard a silenced scream from outside. He rushed outside to see what was going on.
The camp was ablaze with synthetic fire, stolen from the spirits of nature by Techna. Their masked agents terrorized the camp with flamethrowers and slaughtered hundreds of mages. Their black reflective visors scanned the surroundings like emotionless black eyes of a spider, searching for their next prey. Alaric's eyes burned with fury as he summoned shadow spikes to pierce the agents that surrounded him from all sides.
Alaric bellowed: "Not a single one of you will leave alive tonight. For what you did, you will pay with your blood." Rage flowed through him like molten lava, his mana surging through his body like a torrent of water to blast away any remaining threats. "I will execute you all!"
He could see the battered apprentices fighting off the intruding agents, who seemed to stream into the camp endlessly. Once again, anger surged inside of him like steam trying to escape an enclosed space. Alaric lunged towards the group, summoning water to wash all the agents away. Sweat dripped down his forehead, as heat and anger fueled his drive to fight. Crimson coated the tired faces of the apprentices, as they gave a wordless thanks and fled from the invaded camp into the evacuation zone protected by Aurelia.
Her radiant blue eyes flickered with animosity as she single handedly raised her staff to raise two slabs of earth to crush five agents in one go.
Her eyes softened when she saw the familiar figure of Alaric in the burning camp. However, Alaric was currently on fire. Aurelia screamed aloud for Alaric to run, but all warnings fell on deaf ears as he slowly sauntered toward the rushing agents.
He never felt so angry before. Slaughter and murder never felt so justified before. Revenge. That was all he cared about. Those smiling faces that greeted him every morning? Reduced to ajar mouths belonging to ashen corpses on the floor. He had to. Otherwise, who would?
Murky darkness emerged under the feet of the agents like an abscess pool of shadow, then opened wide to swallow them whole. With the visors completely covering their faces, they showed no emotion and no remorse, even up until their final moments. Monsters that showed up from nowhere to kill. Alaric's expression darkened when the agents retreated abruptly, their movements clunky and unnatural. With a single thrust of his arm, he opened up the earth to swallow the fleeing forces whole and closed the gaping fissure to kill them all.
They must have accomplished their goal of terrorizing the camp. Alaric scanned the camp for any casualties in dire need of help when his eyes came across a gruesome sight. One he wished wasn't real.