Scene 1: The Training Hall
The training hall echoed with the sound of clashing swords. Elliotte, now nineteen, wielded Exilibur with ease, its radiant light glinting off his polished armor. His golden hair, tousled from the intense practice, caught the torchlight, adding an almost mythical aura to his determined expression. Although he had a lean, athletic physique rather than a bulky frame, his years of discipline had honed him into a skilled fighter. Yet, he knew he still lacked the true experience that awaited him beyond Ironclad's borders.
A palace guard approached, bowing slightly. "Sir Elliotte, your father, and King Aric request your presence in the throne room."
Elliotte nodded, the sword instantly reverting to its original form as a ring on his finger. Without delay, he strode toward the grand hall, his mind racing with curiosity.
Inside, his father, Commander William, and King Aric awaited him, their expressions solemn yet proud. The king gestured for Elliotte to approach.
"Elliotte," King Aric began, his voice echoing in the grand chamber, "the time has come for you to fulfill your destiny. Beyond Ironclad lie the remaining nine rings of light. If you gather them, you will wield the greatest power known and become a hero among legends."
Elliotte listened intently, a mixture of excitement and determination in his gaze. "But, where do I begin to search for them?"
His father's face turned serious. "No one truly knows where the rings are hidden, Elliotte. Their locations are lost to time and legend. But start your search in the vast and treacherous Woodshadow Forest. Many believe it holds secrets tied to the rings."
The king added, "You will not go alone. I have appointed a skilled companion to accompany you." He gestured, and a tall, dark-clad figure emerged from the shadows. His build was lean, his face concealed beneath a hood, with only his intense, calculating eyes visible. A long scar ran diagonally across his cheek, hinting at a past full of close encounters. He introduced himself with a calm, low voice.
"I am Mark," he said, bowing slightly to Elliotte. "I will ensure we reach our goal without unnecessary distractions."
With a brief nod, Elliotte acknowledged Mark, sensing the man's aura of experience and danger. Soon after, they were sent off with a celebration in the kingdom square. The people of Ironclad cheered as Elliotte, son of the Supreme Commander and future wielder of the light rings, prepared to set off on his quest.
Scene 2: Journey through the Wildlands
After days of travel, they entered a dense, shadowy forest. Elliotte was captivated and wary of the sights and sounds surrounding them. Strange creatures with shimmering scales, small but fierce, darted through the underbrush. A group of owl-like beasts, their feathers crackling with electricity, perched on tree branches and watched the travelers curiously. Some of the beasts even had names: Vernix, small and fox-like with a fiery tail, and Quinari, a serpent-like creature with wings of pure shadow, coiled around a tree.
"These beasts are common in wildlands like these," Mark commented as they walked. "But don't let their size fool you. Some have powers that can catch even experienced warriors off guard."
Elliotte glanced around, alert but fascinated. "I didn't expect so many types of magical creatures outside the kingdom's borders."
Mark smirked. "Well, you're far from Ironclad now. The world out here is vast and unpredictable."
They continued, pushing through the dense forest, unsure of where to find the first clue to the light rings. Elliotte recalled his question to his father, asking where to look, and his father's cryptic response. No one truly knows… His father had only mentioned the Woodshadow Forest as a starting point, and that was still far ahead. Right now, all they could do was keep moving.
Suddenly, a deep growl reverberated through the trees. In front of them, a massive beast appeared, its body covered in thick, spiked fur and razor-sharp claws. Its eyes glowed with a fierce, unnatural light. It was a Grumok, a legendary forest creature known for its unbreakable defense and aggressive nature.
Elliotte reacted instinctively, raising his hand to summon Exilibur from his ring, transforming it instantly into a powerful sword. But before he could engage, Mark raised a hand.
"Stay back, Elliotte. Let me handle this."
With a swift nod, Elliotte stepped aside, watching as Mark confronted the Grumok. The assassin moved with a fluid, practiced precision. Dodging the creature's swipes, Mark spun around it, drawing a long, slender dagger from his belt. With a quick succession of calculated strikes, he struck weak points near the Grumok's joints. In a final move, Mark landed a critical blow, sending the beast crashing to the ground.
"That… was impressive," Elliotte admitted, slightly awed.
Mark sheathed his weapons, his gaze calm. "Experience is something you can't learn in a training hall. You'll get there."
Elliotte nodded, humbled. He could feel his lack of experience keenly now, but his determination to prove himself only grew.
Scene 3: The Oakwood Inn
As they journeyed on, the sun began to set, and they came across a forest inn, aptly named the Oakwood Inn. In this magical world, such inns existed in almost every forest, serving as havens for travelers, merchants, and adventurers. Inside, the inn bustled with people from various backgrounds, each carrying rings of their own. Elliotte's eyes widened as he observed patrons using their rings to create bursts of flame and control small streams of water. These weren't the powerful rings of light or darkness, but common magic rings that allowed basic control over elements. He hadn't seen commoners wielding magic this freely before.
Mark noticed Elliotte's surprised expression and leaned in. "Outside Ironclad, magic rings are common, even for ordinary folk. Rings of fire, water, and similar elements are accessible to anyone, not just the wealthy or noble. But the rings of light and darkness are rare. It's said that only one person in a generation can wield a light ring, and only after the previous user's death. No one has ever gathered all of them."
Reflecting on this, Elliotte felt a pang as he remembered the night he lost Anther. If only Ironclad had been more open with magic… if only his friend hadn't been hurt by their kingdom's strict laws. A flicker of regret crossed his face, but he forced himself back to the present.
Just then, two guards entered the inn, their armor bearing the insignia of the Kingdom of Aethelvar, a realm known for its tolerance and open use of magic. They called out in a booming voice to the crowd.
"Attention, everyone! We are on the lookout for a man causing unrest in our kingdom—a man skilled in dark magic."
The room fell silent. Elliotte's gaze sharpened, curiosity piqued. One of the guards held up a wanted poster, and Elliotte's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the face on it.
It was Anther.