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Chapter 0

  A world borne from fire and ash, near-constant fighting that encompasses the three empires. Pain and suffering are the real kings.

  The sharp thunk of a hoe striking the hard dirt can be heard across the farm, a mismatch of races, ethnicities, and ages all working to prepare for this year’s planting. One face stands out in particular, humanoid in appearance but looking… off. The best way to describe him is as something pretending to be a human. All of the proportions are correct, but the colors are off. Bright silver hair streaked with white screams of years the young face doesn’t have, and the white eyes with flecks of gold look almost angelic. He works, sweat streaking his bare chest and broad shoulders as he swings the hoe with purpose. A large mark covers most of his right pectoral and shoulder, a white flame with swirling lines around it. Similar marks show on most of the rest of the farmers; on an orcish brute sharp geometric lines cover his right arm, and on an elvish woman flowing circles streak her legs, although a few show nothing. As a bell tolls from a distance, everyone stands up straighter, stretching their backs and resting their farming implements on the ground.

  “Finally time for food, ey Arin?” A kind-looking man, tall and thin with blond hair, says to the silver-haired man.

  “If the food bell is any clue I’d say yes, that is normally what it means,” the silver-haired man responds exasperatedly.

  “Oh come off it, do you always have to be so sarcastic?”

  “Do you always have to be so daft Az?”

  “Touché”

  As they walk back to the road a signpost points only one direction: East to Angloria. Angloria, at first glance, is a small town, but upon a closer look is barely even big enough to be called a village, overlooked by merchants and tax collectors alike. Smoke rises from chimneys as fires are set for the night, the farmers getting boisterous as they smell the cooked food. A howl can be heard from the tree line, but no one pays it much heed. The two friends toss some banter between them as they meander over to the longhouse where the majority of the food smell is coming from.

  “Looks like a long line tonight, any clue what we’re having?” Arin asks offhand to Az, not really looking for an answer. It’s always vegetable stew, potatoes, and carrots they work to grow every day mixed with some herbs for a not-half-bad slop. The line trundles forward, with Az and Arin getting bowls filled with the aforementioned vegetable stew. They sit down in their normal seats at the array of benches and tables, eating the normal stew with the bland indifference that comes from living the same day over and over until you die. It gets insufferable sometimes, suffocating with no escape. They both feel it, they’ve talked about going on an adventure but there’s no chance. They have no money, none of the gear required, and neither of them is good enough with their magic to survive in the wilderness.

  A bolt of fire whipped overhead-close enough to singe hair-slamming into Gorrick’s chest. The orc roared, leaping to his feet, earth rippling and caking across his skin like armor.

  “Which rat wants to die today?” Gorrick’s voice shook the timbers. His rune-covered arm smashed the table, sending splinters flying as the crowd scattered, clutching bowls and children.

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  Az was already rising, gears on his scarred face whirring, lips set in a grim line.

  “Gorrick, enough. Take it outside or-”

  “Was it you, half-race? I’ll grind you into-”

  Az didn’t wait. “Say that again and I’ll end you.” His voice was cold as stone. Blue light flickered beneath the hexagons on his cheek.

  Gorrick hurled a stone boulder, thick as a barrel, straight at Az.

  Time slowed. Break it or dodge? If I dodge, someone dies. So-

  “Fulgur, ruptura!” Az’s hand snapped up, blue lightning crackling. The bolt met stone, exploded it into dust and shards.

  Silence for half a heartbeat. Then chaos erupted.

  “Is that all you’ve got, Orc?” Az spat, blue sparks still flickering in his hair.. A third, stronger force fills the room in an instant. Everyone looks around for a moment to find the source before their eyes land on Arin, power rolling off of him in visible waves of gold and white light.

  “If you two don’t shut the fuck up right now I will put you both in the infirmary,” Arin states calmly. With a glare, Az drops his Aether but Gorrick doesn’t.

  “Or whats? Yousa just a small little human!” And like the first time, Gorrick launches his fist at Arin. Without even looking up Arin utters one word.

  “Lux,” light, blinding light. His body starts to glow brighter than his aura, then overflows as the boulder crushes itself against it. “You can’t even use sermos can you? How do you expect to fight me without even a defense?”

  “I don’t need no sermos, Iva gots more strength than you puny little body”

  “Let’s end this quickly. Right arm, jaw. Celeritas,” again a single word, but as Arin says it he smiles. Faster than Gorrick can react he launches himself at the hulking stone orc, slamming his fist against Gorrick’s stomach. The rocks shatter under his fist as Gorrick is launched backward, slamming hard enough against the wooden siding to cough up blood. Arin dashes at him, punching forward again at his right side. Gorrick raises his arm in a futile defense, Arin’s fist slams against it and shatters it. Gorrick screams out in pain, but Arin doesn’t listen.

  “Kick him across the jaw, knock him out quickly,” Arin thinks as he cocks back his left leg, slamming it against Gorrick’s jaw. His head snaps sideways, blood and teeth flying out of his mouth as his eyes gloss over.

  “Stay down, you can’t win,” Arin simply states as he turns his back on Gorrick and walks out, Az trailing behind him. They walked for a while, Arin not looking back and Az following unquestionably.

  “I hate to do that,” Arin remorses, shaking his head.

  “I know you do, but it had to happen,” Az says as he matches Arin’s step, catching up to him with his long legs.

  “Do you want a light? It’s getting dark.”

  “Up to you man, are you not drained from that?”

  “Not too bad,” he says as he starts to glow gently, illuminating the forest around them. A wolf pack can be heard howling, not close but not far either. “Thank you for following me.”

  “Of course brother, you’ll need protection from those wolves anyway,” Az smirks, lightly punching Arin’s shoulder.

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