Part one:
On top of a certain mountain range lay the city of Razihelnor, surrounded by a forest from beneath, and meadows and plateaus from above.
The terrain was very rocky and hardly anything grew besides weeds.
Yet, this city was way richer than one would imagine.
Walking down the wide streets with constant changes in height level, one would find themselves surrounded by myriads of stalls, selling all kinds of foods.
The autumn had just arrived, meaning everyone was busy preparing their supplies for the especially harsh winter on these mountains, but no one was worried. The availability of water, food and wood was so big that it made them sell for cheaper prices than in most of the other cities.
This was Razihelnor, the capital of the Temper province. It was created shortly before people started counting years on the calendar, and since the start of the currently ongoing 2nd year, Temper's strength was in second place.
Nonetheless, its value wasn't achieved through democracy, but by dictatorship.
Just like every other province, Temper also had its military, and it was controlled by elite warriors known as paladins. They were rich, powerful, and directly responsible for Tempers citizens and economy, from the day they claimed the land.
Within Razihelnor, there was a certain area with restricted access named the Garden of the Elite.
Just like the city itself, this area also had its own walls that were guarded by the regular military, which seemed funny considering how powerful each paladin was.
The boy smiled. It was already night.
"Hey! I told you children to stop playing around here!" a guard scared off a group of kids that were spying on him and his companion.
However, now someone else was approaching them.
"Hey…", the other guard called out his companion. They were both gazing at the approaching young man, especially at his snow-white hair colour.
"You! Stop right there", they drew their swords out, but the young man pre-empted them, stretching out his hand holding a letter.
"I was summoned here by the third officer Simra", he said proudly.
The guard lowered his weapon, taking the letter and reading it to himself swiftly. The other one approached as well.
"Indeed. This is Sir Simra's handwriting", he commented, "Zafer, huh? Weird name".
The boy smiled saying, "It means "The Victor"!", while casually passing by them.
The area beyond the gate seemed nothing like the rest of the Razihelnor city. It was filled with neatly trimmed grass and bushes, in between which was a pathway that was dividing itself and leading into many other balconies and buildings.
The river that passed through the whole city was also ending in this region, on a cliff, creating a majestic waterfall, however, one could only observe it from outside of the city.
Geographic encyclopedia: Paragraph 2nd:
„…hence the people were forced to settle down in the basin created by the Pashtrik mountain range. It was so big that 70% of it was unexplored and out of use. The events of mantle and crust that led to its creation remain a mystery…
Paragraph 12th:
The exact number of people who lived within Pashtrik basin is unknown, but as of writing this, they were all a part of one of the 4 provinces: Nubis, Numen, ⬛⬛⬛⬛ and a neutral territory owned by the country itself. Addendum: and Temper.
The chairs creaked against the wooden floor, and two men shook their hands.
"Thank you again Simra! Are you going to show me around now and introduce me to the others?", Zafer seemed excited.
Simra threw papers on the side of his desk. He looked over Zafer's shoulder and noticed a huge shadowy figure through the window, waiting in front of the building.
"I'm busy now. You can talk to Skil, he is also a member of the province".
A boy no older than Zafer slowly turned around just enough so that he could see Zafer as if he wasn't checking him out this whole time.
"Skil! Do you have time to spend with our candidate? Thank you", Simra said before the former could even answer.
Not like he could not decline anyway. Simra was a paladin and the 3rd officer of Temper.
Skil, or as his full name was, Skil, was present during their whole discussion, sorting papers and books on the shelf in the corner.
„White hair, red eyes, a striped black-red sweatshirt… A scarf?", he raised his truncated eyebrow.
„Was he wearing that scarf this whole time, or did he just put it on?"
"Sure", he got up introducing himself to Zafer whose attention was focused on the window where no one was to be seen now.
The difference in their height was distinct, but nothing that Zafer wasn't used to already. He knew not to prejudge anyone based on their looks, either in a positive or a negative way.
„We can go to a nearby pub, it's still far from midnight".
With Skil being one of the exceptions, it was safe to say that Zafer already heard of about 90% of the Temper's elite squad.
Still, none of them arouse respect in his eyes like Simra did, because even though he was only a 3rd officer, he was far stronger than anyone else.
"You probably haven't heard of me since I joined Temper quite recently", Skil continued with the introduction as they were walking through the Garden of the Elite, „and given our age, there is no way for formality between us".
Zafer nodded in agreement.
Being in the presence of a paladin was not something that a regular citizen could hope for, even though their favourite hobby was talking and sharing rumours about them.
At this moment, Temper had a total of 15 paladins and thousands of military soldiers.
The difference between the two was very straightforward.
Paladins were allowed to arm themselves with weapons and armour sets made out of Miyalin, which was the toughest and most precious material known to mankind, but only if they afford it themselves since no province was willing to spend an unthinkable amount of money just to provide one set for every paladin when each of them is capable enough to get one on their own.
"Before we go to a pub, do you think you can maybe show me around the Garden of the Elite?", Zafer's eyes were shining with excitement.
Skil bit his lips, "I'm afraid not. Even I don't have the allowance to wander around here if I'm not summoned".
Zafer frowned, "But you are a member of the Temper province, right? A paladin!"
"Yes, that's the thing. I am just a member. The Garden of the Elite are open only to those of peak capabilities. Mostly officers".
A huge smile stretched on Zafer's face, "so don't you want to see as well? And you can even use me as an excuse or something! Come on, have you already seen everything here?"
Skil smiled by a reflex, "Well… I have never been anywhere near 5th officer place…".
He slowly stepped aside with one foot, suddenly colliding with something not even he or Zafer ever noticed.
It was a huge man, not only taller, but also many times more muscular than both Zafer and Skil.
One could immediately notice that, despite him wearing a Miyalin armour. It had a dimly white colour, with 3 or 4 colourful strings gently wavering inside of it.
Zafer's eyes shone as he was staring at it in awe.
That was a real Miyalin armour! And this man was wearing it so casually!
"Oh! Priest Zer Ox! My apologies", waves of heat started coming out from within Skil.
He never noticed him. Was he spying on them or just appear out of thin air?
"I was just explaining to our new candidate how things work in Temper!"
"Really? Like what?", he widened his eyes in surprise as if he was legitimately curious.
"Well, like, how only top-notch paladins were allowed to-"
Zer Ox's husky voice interrupted him, "Wait, a new candidate you said?", he stared at Zafer who was a whole head smaller than him, "I was never informed about that".
Skil calmed down with the topic change, "Indeed, a new candidate".
Zer Ox pointed at him, "is he a scriptman as well?"
Skil shook his head, "I'm afraid not. He is one of Sir Simra's… chosen ones".
The Priest frowned not changing his face from the previous question, "Simra's? Alright I guess…" he made a big pause, "you look kind of weak though, but…", he lifted both of his hands, "…if it's Simra of all people, I won't meddle".
The Priest continued, "Anyways I saw you two heading out for drinks and wanted to tell you not to stay up late tonight, and you Skil", he turned around once more, "stay sober".
Part two:
"Are you sure you can handle more?", he watched Skil leave for another round of beers, but the former just swung his hand and left.
The pub was full of people. Many would pass through the door, only to realize there were no free tables and leave. Some parties were even sharing a single table as a pad for the mugs or a space to play cards or other games.
Zafer was looking at them, thinking how he used to drink and play cards in pubs as well, but he wasn't one of them anymore. From today on, he wasn't a regular citizen, but a candidate for a new paladin of the Temper province.
In view, there was only one table that was being used by a single person. It was a brunette woman, wearing the same kind of armour that the Priest was wearing, but it was specially designed and forged for her sex.
It was so tight on her body, that one would think it was an undersized shirt, but that was to be expected, given how thin Miyalin armours usually were. The material was so tough that one could forge armour for someone to be invincible, but still remain agile.
This was of course because the thicker the armour was, the heavier and more expensive it was, but it usually made no sense to forge one either way.
The sword on her hip would rub against the floor each time she took a sip out of her mug.
She slowly lifted her head, looking at Zafer.
"Hey! You are out here taking the whole table for yourself, huh?", three adult men suddenly surrounded Zafer.
This made him break eye contact with the pretty woman.
"No, I'm drinking with a friend!", he pointed towards the direction Skil went, but the former smacked his hand.
"Yeah, you can go drink somewhere else!"
Zafer's heart twitched. The lady in Miyalin's armour was still staring at him from across.
He could see it via his peripheral vision and sense it via his skin.
"Hey! What the hell is going on here?", Skil aggressively put the mugs down on the table.
Zafer stood up, "No it's okay. We can share the table!".
"Hell, no way I'm drinking with you!" the adult shouted, looking at Zafer's white hair.
Skil leaned forward to enter his sight, "then get out!"
The man slowly turned towards him, pressing his index finger against Skil's chest, "Be careful how you speak to me, boy".
"No, you be careful how you speak to me fucker", he took a four-pointed star badge out of his pocket pushing it in front of the man's face.
"Hey, he is a fucking paladin!", one of the other 2 adults commented in awe.
The troublemaker contemplated for a bit but continued, "Fuck if I care!", he hit Skil's hand that was holding the badge turning to his friend, "He's probably just one of those-" somebody suddenly grabbed him by the forearm.
It was Zafer, and it made a deep cracking sound.
The man screamed in agony backing off, but nobody noticed since it was too loud in the pub anyway.
"He broke my fucking hand", his friends quickly escorted him outside.
"Prejudging old pieces of shit. I feel so sorry for you!", Skil sat down, "how often do people assume you are exiled?"
"Well, I don't know, but these types of interaction aren't rare, especially among older generations".
Skil smiled, "But don't those same old people also have white hair? Like the colour of it means anything. Not to mention how many people get born with it like you did".
"You know more?"
Skil made a brief break, "Yeah. A couple. I heard the 5th officer also has white hair".
Zafer nodded noticing that the woman with Miyalin armour wasn't looking at him anymore.
"Tell me, is that woman one of Temper's paladins?"
Skil looked around spotting the women. Like he could ever miss her.
"No. That's Arcanie, an ex-officer of the now-gone Atlantic Republic province", he looked at Zafer, "You don't know much about politics and the big players?"
Zafer shook his head, "never had any interest. Only recently started investigating stuff, but mostly Temper".
Although most of the regular people were constantly talking and criticizing the actions of paladins, only a small number knew what each one of them looked like, mostly because the paladins themselves either didn't want to be seen or were too busy doing their own thing.
„Yeah, she is quite a criminal", he was looking at Zafer while shaking his head up and down, "but as if I care. That's not my job".
Suddenly someone kicked the door of the pub open, screaming from the bottom of his lungs and overpowering everyone else, "This area is under attack! Evacuate immediately!"
The male was wearing Miyalin armour but left before Skil could turn around to recognize him.
„What was that?", Zafer was still seated.
„I don't know!", Skil nervously looked through the window, "Simra is there!", he said as he rushed towards the exit.
On the other hand, Zafer wasn't that lucky. Given his height, he was overpowered by a stampede of men, however, in the middle of that crowd, he saw a shiny figure slip out of his field of view through the opened window.
"Arcanie?"
He swiftly pushed backwards escaping the crowd and jumping through the window himself.
He wasn't yet familiar with the city of Razihelnor but was undoubtedly sure that the direction she was going towards was the one Skil and he left 2 hours ago.
The Garden of the Elite!
It didn't take him a lot of pondering to decide to go after her. As of today, he was a candidate for the new member of the Temper province after all.
Unfortunately for him, no matter how fast he ran, he could never catch up to her, thus she eventually escaped from his sight.
It made him question what was she even drinking back at the pub.
A bunch of people were rushing in the opposite direction of him, but as he was nearing the Garden of the Elite, it became quite peaceful.
At the front gate, he spotted the 2 guards who interrogated him lying on the cobblestone.
Dead.
Normally even without them around, he had no permission to enter the Garden, but in this type of scenario, regulations could be neglected, right? Arcanie probably entered the Gardens as well but with malicious intent.
Skil said that she was a criminal.
Nevertheless, he didn't even have to venture that deep into the forbidden area before he suddenly got knocked down from behind.
His body rolled on the dirt.
It was of course the very woman he was looking for. It was scary to him that she managed to notice him despite her having that big of a lead in front this whole time. She wasn't a regular elite warrior.
He quickly stood up, staring down at her. He had no weapon on him, but if he could only get close to her, he could crush her with his bare hands just like he did to the arm of that adult.
"Unless…", he watched a blade appear in her hand, "she threw something at me…"
And that was exactly what she did. Straight at the head, the blade penetrated his eye.
Both of their hearts skipped a beat at the same time. Everything went dark and quiet.
Zafer slowly straightened himself, barely able to hold his eyes open from the blood streaming out of them down his cheeks. Around him was a crater, caused by an explosion. Smoke from the fire and ruined buildings hid the smell of human corpses.
The buzzing in his ears was slowly settling, allowing him to hear the screams of people.
"Wow. Well…", a white-haired middle-aged man approached him, "…that didn't take that long after all", he swiped the blood off of Zafer's face.
"Do you know what happened, son?"
Zafer turned around looking at the corpses, "I killed them?", his eyes started to water.
The man went silent for a moment but then pulled Zafer to stand up.
"Great! All right let's get you out of here first".
"So, you are saying that you can teach me how to control this?", Zafer asked.
"Of course! Have done that quite a couple of times", his purple eyes were reflecting in the apple he was holding, "but I won't be able to mentor you for long enough. However, I will still share some practices with you that can help you to train your control on your own. Even after I'm gone".
"You were right…"
The man bit the apple forgetting he had more to say, "And also, if you during that process you get a wish to become one of those paladins or whatever for the girls and the money…", he swallowed, gazing at him, "forget it, that's not happening with you".
"…and in the end…" Zafer opened his eyes and clenched his teeth, "I indeed didn't end up pursuing this career for the money or women".