Black Magus

“No umbrella, Dell?”

As I turned, a streak of lightning arced through the twilight, illuminating the chiseled features of the Arcane Mage’s jovial face, plastered in a glistening film that seemed equal parts water and sweat.

“I’ve always been a pluviophile, Madam. You know that.” I chided.

“We all are.” She turned back to the horizon with a blissful sigh. Though I couldn’t see it, I knew her gaze was canted off to the east. Staring at the landscape of what was. “It’s a shame Gysil couldn’t be here.” She sighed again. This time with a noticeable bit of melancholy before she turned her gaze back to the docks.

“I know what you mean, Madam.” I laughed, following her gaze with bolstered eyes, just as hers were. “She’d have loved to meet the little shits for herself.”

Under my enhanced sight, I saw the group of ten Initiates huddled around the barracks. Or rather, the group of seven that was crowded around one while the other two sat and watched.

“If she had, she wouldn’t be up for promotion.” Came the phlegmatic reply.

“Or, she’d be fawning over those ones.” I pointed to the north with a laugh. Where two vessels had been anchored for the last several days. “Giving such extensive reports is unlike her.”

“Perhaps.” the Madame turned back to the east just as another flash lit up the sky, revealing a satisfactory grin that split her face in two.

Upon turning in the same direction, I first saw a small glistening object fall from the sky and impact against the shores with a deep thud. Yet, the Arcane Mage’s gaze was focused further to the east, where a trio of unnatural waves were swerving toward the coast. Making choppier seas for the crude vessel powering forward behind them.

“Finally!” I heard the grin in her voice before she turned back with a flair of the hand. “Start her up!”

“Madam!” The troops snapped and immediately scrambled to settle into place.

“Give the order, Dell.” She nudged me. Then turned to the construct. “I’ll make the call.”

“Yes, Madam!” I giddily approached the sounding horn with a wicked smile. And the antique piece seemed to smile at me in turn.

Like our forsaken home, it was born from a time when enchantments didn’t exist. A time when Classes, Sigils, Runes, and Words of Power ruled the realm. Like anything from that time, using it made me feel as if I was connecting myself to those ancient times. As if I were channeling power from our ancestors to influence the realm of today. Reaching, though that may have been.

Regardless, I took in a deep breath and spoke concisely through the mouthpiece. The runes or sigils or whatever it was inscribed on the horn glowed a verdant green in response to my words, and once complete the ivory set beneath my hands began vibrating softly, pushing my words across the seas as if I were speaking through the voice of the Gods. “Attention Pages of the Bodhi Tree! The Bifrost is currently charging and will be online in fifteen minutes. Anyone who is not at the summit at that time will remain on Maru. I say again! The Bifrost will be online in one-five minutes. Be here by then, or remain on Maru! Grandmaster Mage of the Marulean Guild Association, Irini Delloti. Out.”

After pulling away from the horn, I turned toward the Arcane Mage, only to stop halfway after seeing the first of the initiates arrive. And though I realized who it was, at first sight, I still followed protocol and shouted. “State your name!”

He was around 1.75 meters tall and absurdly lean. So much so that there appeared to be no fat on him at all. He wore thin boots and baggy pants tied off with a golden sash. Paired with a long-sleeved shirt that seemed as if it were made for winter. And while his shoulder-length locks obscured his ears, he had all the fine features of the Fey. But unlike any elves I’ve ever seen, he maintained an amiable facade as he stared back at me. Most likely due to the burnbud cigar hanging from his lips.

“And put that out!” I spat.

“Tch.” He spat the cigar onto the floor with a sneer.

“No-” I started. Then stopped after failing to see any litter atop the stone.

“My name is Amun.” He snickered. “I clean up after myself.”

“Well, Amun.” I let out a guttural sigh. “Standby for transit.”

He trotted off without saying a word. Choosing instead to focus on the Bifrost, even as the others came up to give me their names.

As if they were as eager to leave Maru as their companion, the other Deapouans and Odissians arrived in quick succession. The first of them was Toril, O’Connell. A 1.8-meter-tall knight who was broad enough to be mistaken for an Amazonian. He had brown skin, vibrant but aloof blue eyes, and a mohawk of locks tied off on the back of his head. And after giving me his name without issue, he trotted off to Amun’s side to lay down and stare longingly at the storm clouds above. The rest of them behaved in much the same way. Jaimess A. Corey. A tall and lanky young man with a tapered haircut and clothes that seemed more than out of place for his destination. Edward Pascal, a short, pug-faced young man dressed in a one-piece suit with a thick belt. Even Lucia Pike stated her name and trotted off, ignoring my staring subordinates without a word. Almost as if she was accustomed to those gawking at her pale skin and silvery eyes.

Roheisa Deapou was the only different one among them. She showed so much respect to the Arcane Mage and I that it was almost uncanny. But they, at least, were tame compared to the other groups.

The brat who’d been plaguing us for the last twenty-eight days stepped forward shortly after Roheisa. As he’d done so many times before, he stepped off a magical plate and strutted up to our noses to interrogate us in front of our subordinates.

In this case, however, he only whispered. “Why are you asking my name, Dell? It’s me!”

Winston Epeth was a child with sandy-brown skin, dotted with a sea of freckles. His hair was much the same color, a mottled mess of red-brown strands that hung loosely over his brow. He was the prince of an Empire. And acted as arrogantly as one would expect a royal of the only remaining country in Maru to practice the barbaric practices of old.

But now, he was only a Page.

“Call me Dell again and you’ll be swimming to the Bodhi Tree!” I sneered.

“Sorry!” He jumped back. Then palmed his chest with a wide smile. “Winston Epeth! Prince of the-”

“Noted.” I checked off his name and jerked my chin to the side. “Standby for transit.”

“Was that necessary?” He whined under the cover of thunder. “You didn’t have to cut me off! That’s rude!”

“Shut up. No one cares.” I scowled. And continued scowling as his compatriots shuffled along behind him.

Like every young Initiate of his social standing, Winston had two vassals sworn into his allegiance. One Willard Rowe, an olive-skinned boy with slicked-back hair; and Issac Galliard, a broad and well-built boy with a tuft of blond at the forefront of his well-combed brown hair. As things went, their attitudes were passed on to the two Epethian Dukes and their vassals, who followed behind Winston and his flock like ducklings. From what I saw, Matthew Reid and his vassal, Edgar Lope were like oil to the fire that was Zeke Smeal and his knight, Quinn Leonhart.

It was obvious that all that arrogance, youthful exuberance, and inflated sense of power would be concentrated onto the only Initiate among them to have truly ascended in status. Peter Boyd was the only person in Epethia to be freed from slavery after awakening his cores and went on to prove himself worthy of attending the Bodhi Tree; yet, he was still subjected to the tyranny of the powers that once stood over him.

It was a shame. But what was more shameful than his reluctance to retaliate was seeing the Epethian commoners, Rommy Peak and Mary Lee Farmer, do nothing but watch Peter get beaten and bullied for weeks on end.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Grandmaster.”

The pair of voices came without warning. From my right side came an all-too-familiar accent that caused every Amazonian guild official present to break their neck after hearing it. Like them, I turned and saw three young Amazonians standing before me at eye level. A glance at their hands told me that they were sworn sisters. And like Idonea and I; and the Arcane mage and her soon-to-be peer, Gysil Vilignin, they were Warriors from birth.

“The honor is mine.” I smiled at them. “Tell me your names, young Warriors.”

“Teofila Traversini.” The tallest of them beat her scarred fist against her chest. She was muscular like Gysil and had the same beige eyes as her as well. Giving me a strong inclination that she possessed the same affinity as the soon-to-be Arcane Mage. The only differences were her round face and the ponytail of straight hair pulled taut against her head.

“Orsola Estevez.” The young Warrior thumped her fist against her bosom in turn. She had a short and thin body and her face was dominated by high cheekbones wrapped tightly with olive skin. Giving her a permanent scowl that synergized nicely with her lithe build and piercing brown eyes.

“Ale Nicchi.” Their sister- brother in the eyes of non-Amazonians- stood over a head taller than me. Massive, even by Amazonian standards. Ale's shoulders were nearly as wide as a golem's, making me believe she was part giant and would begin acting as such, were it not for the joyfully benevolent gaze that looked down on the realm.

“May our ancestors guide you, young Warriors, to greatness. And may the Gods protect you. For Amazonia!” I saluted the three of them before gesturing to my side. “Please, standby for transit.”

After the Warriors returned the reply with a salute, they trotted off to an ambiguous corner, prompting a grizzled and cynical voice to cackle at my feet. “Nice to see the Association endorses favoritism.”

Looking down, I saw a particularly stocky dwarf dressed in trousers, boots, and a crude leather vest seemingly made to showcase the glowing tattoos running up his arms, across his chest, and up to his bald head, where the chain-like designs converged around a braided ponytail at the crown like an ancient seal.

“You’ll find that we all are pleased to see fresh Phaegrathean blood set out to lay claim to the realms as well.” I grinned. “You are a survivor of the Bonju Tribes, are you not? And you pray to the God of War?”

“Name’s Bazzric Baal.” He spat.

“Ahah!” Fanis laughed with his peers on the sidelines. “He was the one with that shoddy raft!”

“I do not pray to the God of War.” He continued with a sneer towards Fanis. “In the name of Sutark, I destroy. And, would ya look at that?” He waved towards the coast with a mad cackle. “It's destroyed.”

“That it is.” I rolled my eyes. “Stand by for transit.”

After a long, several minutes, the second-to-last of the Phaegratheans waddled up to me. A seemingly harmless and charmingly small woman, haunched under the weight of a pack that was just as large and twice as round as herself.

“A halfling.” I smiled. “A rarity. Not only for the Bodhi Tree but practically everywhere in Maru.”

“Only because you haven’t looked hard enough, Grandmaster.” She whimsically bowed. “My name is Ritrix Mildbluff. And-” She recoiled in place as a sudden pulse of foul mana swelled behind us and disappeared in the same instant. Then her words resumed without delay. "Standby for transit." She smiled. "Sure thing, Madame.”

“Yes.” With a long sigh, I turned. And felt the cold shudder running down my body as Amun fell into my line of sight.

He was standing idly as he was doing before. Surrounded by Roheisa and the other Deapouans. Who were all shouldering rucksacks and bags that they didn’t have before while they stared down at their feet with long faces.

“It’s like Gysil said.” The Arcane Mage approached from behind. “You’ve felt it before, haven’t you?”

“I thought I could never forget.” I shuddered. “But this is nothing like what I felt back then.”

“So, that’s the infamous Shadow of Death?”

Both the Arcane Mage and I spun on our heels after hearing the beastly voice boom behind us. It was a tone and accent we’d heard a million times over. Yet, like the powers of death and darkness, it was a feeling we would never grow accustomed to. Even when their ripples could hardly be felt.

“Zeke Silva.” The giant of a man humbly placed his hand on his chest and bowed at the neck. He was around the same size as Ale. But his presence and voice made the young Warrior look like a child standing defiantly against a giant.

Like the House of Cole, the Silva Clan was an ancient dynasty of Sorcerers. And like all such Sorcerers, they were largely considered inhuman. Birthed into creation eons before the appearance of the portals. As a Clan, they were famous for retaining arcane and ancient knowledge. But it was their birthright that made them renowned, Silver-based Sorcery. As individuals, however, they were feared for their domineering presence, absurd strength, and unyielding defense. Thus they lived in the high mountains, within the clouds. Leaving their 'citizens' to prosper or perish under their own power- so long as they assimilated with their culture.

Zeke was no exception. Even at fifteen, he was nearly 2.5 meters and covered from head to toe in dense bundles of muscle that’d been wrapped in deeply tanned skin. His silver mane was slicked back over his head to allow it to flow down to the small of his back. And it was matched on the front by a braided goatee that danced in the wind as he maintained a fanged grin aimed over our heads.

“I hope I didn’t take too long.” Zeke suddenly, and monotonously turned to look back to the shores. “The path makes for a nice walk.” He went on to hold his gaze at the shores. Or the ocean. Or Phaegrath beyond it, before nodding softly to himself. “And the rain makes it all the more nicer.”

“Right…” The Arcane Mage gave me a look before she turned to face the Initiates.

Following the cue, I moved along the rim to stand behind my designated construct like the four others and took a moment to size up the curved spire of stone before I turned my attention to the Arcane Mage at my left, settling behind her smaller, podium-sized spire at the center.

“Welcome, Pages, to Rook Island!” Her voice boomed with nearly as much intensity as the horn. “I am Arcane Mage Katia Garaki. And this.” She gestured to the sigil-lined floor beneath them with her free hand. “This is the Bifrost. The bridge between realms! Congratulations on traversing this world and arriving at this here summit!” She paused again to spread her arms to her sides with a ceremonial flair. “For one thousand years now, the Guild Association has overseen the transfer of the newly Awakened to the Bodhi Tree. Given that you all have completed this pilgrimage, we hope each of you has gained some sense of closure with which to end this chapter of your lives. For, whether you are prepared or not, it is now time for you to leave Maru and take the first step down the path toward Evolution.

"What you Evolve into will be your choice. For some of you, you may become Barbarians or fighters; or many of you young Knights may decide to become Paladins. Some of you may become Artificers who create; or rogues who steal such creations. Regardless of whether you chose to be a Ranger or a Druid; Witch or Wizard; Monk or Cleric, your journey as a Mystic begins here. At this Summit. And as a Mystic, you have one sacred duty. That duty is to explore the Mortal Plane in search of the Maruleans who migrated through the portals in the centuries following their appearance. In doing so, we pass on the knowledge the Fae blessed us with only a few centuries ago. Knowledge of the Core Annex and Awakening, and all the things we've learned regarding Class Evolution. To accomplish this duty, we ally ourselves with like-minded individuals and create Guilds to give us the power needed to venture as far as needed. Out of the thousands of individuals to be assessed this year, the powers that be have determined that the twenty-two of you are the best Maru has to offer for that duty. You are the mightiest in this generation of Maruleans. You are the ones who will take up root in the next Assembly of Guilds and make contact with the forsaken pockets of humanity.

"But with that comes one thing you must understand." The Arcane Mage paused to lean over her podium and spoke in a grim tone. “From this moment forward, you are royals no longer. You are nobles no longer. Nor are you commoners, peasants, or slaves. You are hereby Pages of the Bodhi Tree! Any title you once had is meaningless and will remain so until you either die, drop out, or graduate. The only titles that hold any merit to those who dwell in our reality are those you create for yourselves going forward. Your titles and your reputations will be forged through meritorious service in the name of progression!

“So, without further adieu, I ask that you stand within the construct and brace yourselves for transit.” She grinned wickedly at the responses of some. And I savored the moment as well.

After receiving the Arcane Mage’s nod, I sent the gesture down the line and began funneling mana into the construct at my feet just after she did. And so too did my subordinates in turn. With my flow rate stabilized, I turned my attention to Fanis and then to Luna and couldn’t help but smile after seeing the rookies go through the motions with ease. With my worries gone, I cleared my mind and fell into a trance while the construct charged to full capacity. The sigils below us continued absorbing mana and funneling them into the tip of the five curved spires arcing up before us, where the energy condensed and brightened with each passing second. First from its green glow and then on to blue and then a blinding white until the five spires ejected beams of energy that converged directly overhead, condensing into a ball of light like that of the sun; minus the intense heat.

“For some of you, this marks the conclusion of your admission exam.” The Arcane Mage shouted through the rumbling caused by the dense energy. “For the rest of you, this marks the start of your most grueling exam. Regardless, I wish all of you the best of luck.”

With a final smile, she sent a pulse of mana into her construct. Invoking a wave of dense mana to pour from her rune, through each ours and out the spires in the form of a concentrated beam. In an instant, the miniature sun plummeted to come to rest on the summit and swelled in a flash of light. Growing to encompass the Pages before they could even react. It was upon us an instant later, expanding until the ancient stone claw caught it with enough force to nearly push us off our feet. For an endless moment, the five of us fought to stay in place and keep our hold on the ritual while the construct pulsed and pushed against the constructed stone with enough force to quake the entire island. Until, finally, a silent implosion flashed before our eyes.

The tension and stress on the environment shattered into a million fragments of shimmering light under the force and simultaneously launched the ball of radiance light across the Southern World Sea in an instant.

Now in a sudden silence, the five of us stared across the impossible distance toward the pinpoint of light on the horizon and held our gaze in place for a moment before tracking our eyes down the stream of particles expanding in their wake like a bridge made of solid light.