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Cresswell

The Arcane Tides

Kaelan opened his eyes, blinking past the blurry light of the sun. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was standing among a thousand dead, both monster and human, covered in blood. A sharp pain in his chest and the dark red eyes of Demon God Malakar, the Devourer staring at him through the rain. He remembered nothing after that. Reaching up toward the sky to block the sun, he saw his hands- short, stubby and strangely young. He sat up straight, the fog of sleep rushing from his body as he looked around, his heart pounding. He was lying under the Grand oak tree in Ashwood, the poorest village in the south of the Cresswell Dukedom, towards the center of the Kingdom of Aumber Vale. He was eight years old again, wearing the rags of his childhood and the still untouched and unscarred face of his youth. He was no longer Kaelan Stormrider, Kaelan the Veilwalker- he was Kaelan Miller, first son of Jackson Miller the town flour maker from thirty years ago. He pulled from his pocket the now inert stone given to him by his master- the witch Lirael who had saved him from slavery and a life of mediocrity. He stared for several seconds before small smile slowly creeped over his face- he clenched his fist around the rock, knowing now why she had insisted on him taking it. He was back. Back before the wars, before the demons invasion, before the ascent of the darkflame and every evil thing in between. He was back. This time, he would protect them. He would work to join the Vale Knights, to perfect his magic manipulation. He'd stop the flood that destroyed his city and keep Aumber Vale from crumbling into ruin. This time, he would save them all.
Merlyn44 · 286 Views
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