The morning sun barely broke the mist that covered Tlangthar when Tyrs and Mynta arrived at Zakop's household. There, they found Larin standing outside, fully ready for the journey they would undertake. His wardrobe showed he had prepared a long time in advance – an enchanted rucksack hung by his back, and there were two swords resting along his hips. The longer blade ran with runes etched along the edge, but the shorter blade emitted a faint blue glow. A compact Whispering Carbine lay cross his shoulder; its subtle thrum of compressed mana inside it told him exactly what he had in his hands and the deadly power that he might unleash upon the world.
Tyrs's eyes sparkled with approval. "Well, nephew, it seems you're ready for anything. I expected some last-minute scrambling, but here you are, a picture of readiness."
Mynta grinned, ruffling Larin's hair. "If only all apprentices had your sense of preparation. Makes me proud to see you like this.
Larin adjusted his rucksack, smiled, and said, "It's been long-waited for. Opportunity for learning, for battles to be fought, opportunities for proving myself. None should be wasted."
Inside, Zakop and Moimui joined the three for a final farewell. Zakop's stoic demeanor softened as he laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "Be vigilant, and don't be afraid to ask. Your journey is not only about the magic but also about how to understand the world and your place in it."
"I will, father," Larin said, his voice steady. "I'll make you proud.
As they were out, Tyrs and Mynta went along discussing their family and politics. For Tyrs, this reminded him about Uncle Ted- Zakop's brother-whose seat was that of an ambassador in the capitol city of Kirat Empire. "Ted, always very good at politics, never failed once. However his recent report… troubling them.
"The Empire is at their mercy," Mynta stated as her voice filled with an air of concern. "White beams that obliterate everything in their path but somehow spare the common folk. It's as if the strikes are targeted precision beyond our understanding."
Larin raised an eyebrow. "Nobody has claimed responsibility?
Tyrs shook his head. "None. And that's what's most unsettling. The Empire's paranoia grows by the day. It's why our resistance efforts have managed to avoid their full attention so far. They're too distracted."
As the journey began in earnest, the group passed through Tlangthar's eastern gate, where Larin's friends awaited them. Gwendon, Ngieri, and Rinku had packed lightly but were equally prepared, their expressions a mix of excitement and determination.
"Thought you'd leave without us?" Rinku teased, slinging a bow over his shoulder.
"Not a chance," Larin replied, clasping his hand. "We're in this together."
The six of them set off toward the Pamchai Plains, a vast stretch of rolling grasslands leading into the border towns. There was a deliberate decision made to forgo magical carriages in favor of walking. It kept them hidden and allowed for practical lessons in survival and magic.
The first night, they pitched camp near a small grove. Tyrs and Mynta took this opportunity to start their lessons.
"Magic is not just power," Mynta said, her voice commanding yet warm. "It's philosophy, perception, and questioning. Always question everything.
Tyrs nodded. "Take chaos, for example. Most people think of it as destruction, but it's more. Chaos is the breaking down of categories, the freedom to see beyond the boxes we put the world in. To understand magic, you must first unlearn your assumptions."
Gwendon furrowed his brow. "But doesn't structure give magic its form? Without it, wouldn't we just have raw, uncontrollable energy?
"Good question," Tyrs said with a grin. "Structure is a tool, not a truth. It helps us wield magic, yes, but it also limits our understanding. To master magic, you must learn when to use structure and when to let it go."
As the days went by, the group practiced anti-scrying and anti-tracking techniques. One of the simplest yet most effective rituals Tyrs taught them was walking clockwise twice and counterclockwise twice in a circle.
This disrupts the flow of mana around your footprint," he said. "For those with sharper senses, we burn the footprint entirely."
"We use stealth-based alchemical components and shamanistic rituals, making it all but impossible to trace," Mynta added. "That's one reason our guerrilla war against the Empire has been so successful.
The young mages honed with much diligence, burning footprints as they tested the magical veil. Every step of it, Tyrs and Mynta guided them forward with corrections.
The voyage wasn't a smooth sailing affair. It was already on the fifth day, and now they were traveling through one dense forest, when suddenly, a pack of Duskray Panthers had their glowing eyes piercing from the shadows. Their growls echoed ominously.
Stand firm," Tyrs instructed, thrusting an arm out. "They're territorial but not unreasonable."
Larin clutched his Whispering Carbine. The weapon charged the anima as he steeled himself for the worst. "What do we do?"
Mynta stepped forward, her hands glowing with a soft light. "We negotiate." She cast [Spirit Communion], her voice resonating in the air. "Fellow creatures, we mean no harm. Let us pass, and we will respect your territory.
The Duskray panther hesitated, its growl softening. After a tense moment, the pack retreated into the shadows.
"Well done," Tyrs said, lowering his hand. "Always remember, not every conflict needs to end in bloodshed."
Nights at camp were filled with stories and laughter, but also deeper discussions. One evening, as they sat around the fire, Mynta asked the group, "What do you think it means to fight the Empire?"
Ngieri spoke first. "It is taking back what they have stolen from us. Our earth, our ways, our freedom."
Rinku chimed in, "It's a matter of survival. If we do nothing, they will eradicate us."
Tyrs nodded. "You both are correct. However, keep in mind, the war is not only against the Empire, but also the notion that might makes right. Magic, by nature, is all about harmony. The Empire upsets that balance.
Larin gazed into the flames. "Then we rebuild it. Not for ourselves, but for everything that has been connected to this land."
Mynta smiled. "Spoken like a true mage."
As they drew closer to the border towns, the landscape changed. The lush ancient greenery of the hills gave way to Dense Fern forests which gave out to the Luxo Ocean, beautiful, big and dangerous, this was the choking point which connects Xiaxo to the rest of the Kirat Empire. Military encampments dotted the horizon, their banners fluttering in the wind. The group didn't head to the capital city of the district Pamchai, they rerouted towards the border immediately.
"Welcome to the frontlines," Tyrs said grimly. "From here on, things will only get harder."
Larin tightened his grip on his weapons, his resolve firm. "We're ready."
"Good," Mynta replied, her gaze sweeping over the group. "Because the real journey begins now."