The Ruler of Ruin

Year 354 of the Erae Concordia

Last week I graduated as the salutatorian of the renowned Havenstone Academy. It sounded grander than it really was. Those who sought careers as part of the theocratic monarchy that ruled Solarias went to a much more prestigious institution. The Havenstone Academy was for the children of adventurers, those who sought to become adventurers, or families to poor to send their children to the Horizon Guardian’s School. Tradition holds that the valedictorian will go on to be a famous adventurer, and Andre fit the part much better than I. He was tall, athletic, handsome, and possessed great skill with stone magic. He’d never beat me in any weapons drills, but grades and exam performance only went so far in the awful bureaucracies of the Academy.

You can’t have a blank being the valedictorian of the most prestigious school in the region. No one would ever take Havenstone Academy seriously if that happened, regardless of if I had earned the position or not. They didn’t take being salutatorian away from me, like they did the top spot, despite the rumors that said they might. Whispers I wasn’t supposed to hear, or at least, I should pretend I didn’t. A pat on the head and second place, these were my only rewards for not making a fuss, and I should be thankful they didn’t take more.

I woke up before the first chimes of the morning bell, the same as I did every day. It was still dark out. My mind was alert, but unfocused. My thoughts jumped around, my nerves were frayed, and I had slept poorly. It was with anxious excitement that I got dressed, then added a gambeson, then added leather armor. I’d worn it every day at the Academy, so my motions were practiced and the fit excellent. My fingers disobeyed me slightly, and it did take me two or three tries to tighten everything. I replaced the padding last month. As a blank I took a lot of hits from the faster, stronger, and mystically enhanced students. Unlike the Academy where my armor only saw use in training, your chances of seeing real combat in the mists was nearly one hundred percent, so armor absolutely had to be worn.

There were people who walked into the mists without armor or gear, those who had given up on life but were too cowardly to end it themselves. Certain death lurked beyond the safety of the Castle walls, in the chaotic ever-changing lands of the wilds. I finally got all the cinches pulled tight, yanked my forest green tunic over the armor, and hurried downstairs.

“Oh, how cute!” Coralie, also known as mom, gushed when I meandered into the kitchen. A plate of eggs and hash waited for me, and an empty plate across from mine, with barely any scraps left, showed that dad had already come and gone.

“Don’t you mean dashing?” I asked without hesitation before I dived into breakfast. No one had ever called me dashing, and the small giggle my comment drew from mom hurt my pride. Couldn’t she just play along?

“I said what I meant, Emery. Take the compliment.” Despite the playful smile, her tone had a hardness to it. I didn’t want to be cute. I wanted to be masculine, heroic, dashing, suave, or even dangerous. Blank or not, I still dreamed of being a renowned champion to the whole kingdom of Solarias, a grand hero, a force of order so supreme I could stabilize the mists and build a Castle. Every inch of land taken from the mists could also be lost to them. Solarias had been founded on the guiding principle that by pushing the mists out, someday we’d have a whole world to ourselves. Solarias hadn’t seen a new Castle in nearly two hundred years, but we lost one only twenty-five years ago. So much for guiding principles.

Mom looked a lot like me, but more feminine. We were both five foot nine, had curly black hair, blue eyes, and slender frames. My effeminate appearance mixed with being a blank meant I was less intimidating than a five-year-old with an early developed gift, but mom was a pyromancer. Despite my brutal workout regimen, she could easily best me in an arm-wrestling match. On the upside, maybe being a pyromancer was why she had such a deft hand with all things involving heat?

“Yes, mother,” I grumbled and shoveled food into my mouth. It tasted good, mom was a great cook, but I ate methodically. Good or not, my mind wandered miles away into the mists. By the time I heard footsteps on the front stairs my entire plate was empty. Voices came from the front parlor, where dad checked our supplies one last time. Etienne must have woken up early. A rare occurrence, he usually slept in until someone woke him up.

I could see the outline of dad in the candlelight of the front parlor. Dad (actual name: Marius) was five inches taller than me (he was 6’2”) with blonde hair and grey eyes. The shape that stumbled down the front steps nearly matched the broad-shouldered figure of dad, despite being fifteen. Etienne might as well have been a mirror image of dad, and not only had he inherited the masculine build, blonde hair, and silver eyes Etienne also had the aura of a natural leader. He exuded confidence and charisma. Feelers from some of the lower-tier adventuring parties already scouted his plans for when he graduated the Academy, no matter how rude it was to scout a kid of a different adventuring group, or that he still had three more years until graduation.

“Why does Emery get to go to the frontier with you!? He’s a blank! He’s going to get scared, summon something terrible out of the mists, and then be unable to help you all deal with it. This is a bad idea, dad!” Etienne did nothing to keep his voice low enough to prevent mom or I from overhearing him.

Etienne used to be my biggest fan, before it was revealed I was a blank. Now he treated me like a shameful burden, and he hated or resented me for his own feelings. I felt the same way about myself most days, honestly, so I couldn’t bring myself to be that mad at him. I’d never get to build a Castle, and my only chance to travel the mists was as an observer, like I would today. If someone didn’t take it away from me.

“I’m an adult, Etienne. When you’re an adult you can go with the Dustwalkers, or whatever adventuring group that will have you. As a real adventurer. The quartermaster is requiring me to see the mists firsthand at least once, or he won’t hire me.” My voice was angry and a little frosty. Unusual for me in my homelife, the anger and hate had been struck out of me by the forge hammers of a life growing up as a blank in Solarias.

I couldn’t remember getting up from the table, but there I was in the doorway. It wasn’t like me to jump into a conversation between other people, let alone to rudely leap in before Dad had a chance to respond. Hurt that filled my chest gave truth to the lie that I wasn’t angry with him for how he viewed me, no matter how much I told myself otherwise. Based on the disgusted twist to his eyes and mouth I must have sounded like a whining kid pretending to be an adult. My chest tightened, breathing grew a touch more difficult as my muscles felt squeezed by the invisible hands of anxiety; Dad didn’t look proud of me for standing up for myself. He looked, I don’t know, sad? Ashamed?

Etienne’s eyes flared with a silver-orange light I’d never seen before. Did he even know? Silver was the color of Holy Mithras, surely it was more important of an ability than to be a mere sign of anger. I doubt Etienne even noticed, but any attention I paid to his eyes and the new magical trick was completely washed away by his next words.

“You’re going to destroy our family!” Etienne screamed at me, full volume.

No doubt Miss Joni next door had heard the violent shout that hurt my ears and pierced my heart at the same time. I could feel the throbbing of my pulse echoing in my skull. My muscles tightened even further, the painfully tight grasp of anxiety overexerted the muscles of my body painfully. I struggled to even breath. Words shouldn’t have this effect on me, but here I was, fighting for breath.

“ETIENNE!” Mom’s usually soft, whispery voice hit the parlor like a whip crack. Dad, Etienne, and I all flinched. Dad didn’t seem surprised to hear Mom’s voice like this, but it shocked me to hear her speak so firmly. “You will apologize to Emery right now!”

Mom might be the same height as me, but the way she stood in the doorway, shrouded by tongues of flame that threatened to spill into the parlor and burn everything to ashes, made her seem an awful lot taller. She wasn’t an adventurer, despite all her power, but a craftsman. She held the title of master artisan and drew buyers from across all of Solarias and beyond.

“I warned you!” Etienne screamed so loud his voice cracked, with his final word coming out in a high pitch screech. A thunderous slamming of the front door followed Etienne’s embarrassing display. Storming out of the house wasn’t exactly a new occurrence for him, but it’d never happened with such volume, and mom had never been so angry that flames manifested around her before.

“That boy…” Dad sighed and stared at the door for a few more seconds, before he swung his adventuring kit over his shoulder. Whatever Dad really thought about Etienne’s behavior, he didn’t add more. He didn’t have too, I knew I had never been dad’s favorite. We got along, but he never went out of his way to spend time with me, especially after I was confirmed as a blank. Etienne on the other hand was eager to learn from Dad, and they spent a lot of time training together. They both had flame affinity, and Dad was keen to share his secret calculations for spells with someone.

Of course, Etienne wouldn’t even get in trouble for this. After all, the only persons feelings to be hurt were my own. Etienne would get yelled at by Mom, but as the baby he’d get away with it. By the time Dad and I were back from the hunting trip everyone would expect me to forget this even happened, and I’d pretend to have forgotten to keep family dynamics peaceful.

“He’ll get over it and his time will come. Three years seems like forever at that age. Today is about you, Emery. Learn as much as you can from the Dustwalkers, a good report from Blaise might even increase your stipend a little bit. In no time at all you’ll be forging legendary artifacts with the best artisans in town, honey.” Mom’s eyes took on a far-off look, and I could tell she was daydreaming about tea parties and business connections with other artisans. Skilled blanks were necessary for the forging of the best equipment, because we didn’t risk disturbing or tainting the master-crafters mana signatures the way other magically inclined people would.

From the perspective of skilled artisans, we blanks were considered an ideal second assistant. I didn’t dream of toiling in forges or laboring in shops, nor did I envisage a life relegated to merely assisting craftsmen who treated me as if I were a thinking vice grip. At the end of the day being unable to power the magic forges, let alone being incapable of lighting one, meant I’d never be a primary assistant. I dreamed of creating a Castle, not the perfect tea cup.

“Yeah, I’ll learn everything I can, Mom. Are we good to go, Dad?” If I could sneak out of the house with a quick goodbye from mother maybe dad wouldn’t be in a bad mood about Etienne. I’m sure in his head, this was all my fault for interrupting their conversation.

“Stay close to your Dad and uncle Remy. I know you and Claire used to be close, but she’s the Mistwalker, so you stay in the middle of the party where its safe. Okay?” Mom’s blue eyes met mine, and she needed to hear me promise I’d do my best to stay safe.

The mists were dangerous, but the Dustwalkers were amongst the top five parties that adventured out of Havenstone, and Claire used to be my friend until she graduated and joined the Dustwalkers. Before her graduation, we’d exercise together frequently. It’d been two years since I’d seen her besides at the extended family gatherings of the Dustwalkers.

“I will, mom. I’ll stay between Dad and Remy, I promise. It’ll be okay, it’s just a short farming run for the Alchemist’s Guild, not an expedition for new grounds, right dad?” I said in my best attempt to soothe mother’s anxiety.

If there was an upside to any of this, it was that mom’s worry had distracted me from my own worries, the tightness in my chest had passed.

Mom gave me a kiss on the cheek, and Dad got a real kiss that made my face go a little red from watching, but mom never let dad go into the mists without an enthusiastic good-bye. My cheek itched from where she’d kissed me. Etienne had gotten her so mad that her physical touch was unpleasantly warm. Dad, Mom, and Etienne all had the Mithras blessed gift of fire, and Etienne actually had developed the Flames of Mithras, so potent were the combined powers of my parents. Or maybe Etienne had the blessing of Mithras. That’s how Etienne described it, but not even the Church of Mithras seemed to know for sure how aptitudes worked.

“Even a farming run can be dangerous, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you and neither will Remy. I packed some extra healing salves that’ll work for you in your pack, kiddo. Love you, firefly.” Dad murmured the last quietly to mom, but I still heard it, just as I heard her response. Healing salves, ones that worked on blanks, were more expensive than even healing potions, since they had to contain the magic to activate and sustain the healing effect without drawing upon the users reserves. They were also usable on people with mana-poisoning from too much magic, which was their primary use if you weren’t a blank.

As a blank, I didn’t have any magic. Not even residual magic. I couldn’t take potions, use magic items, not even scrolls. I was absolutely devoid of mana, a statistical anomaly that occurred with a rate of one in a thousand in the border Castles, and one in ten thousand in the interior areas of Solarias. Being a blank had disappointed me beyond reason, ever since I was a small child, and mom explained the Castles to me I’d dreamed of creating one someday. Why didn’t everyone? The Castles brought order and stability to regions, repelled the mists, and expanded the kingdom.

Even better, anyone who created a Castle was memorialized in the Hall of Heroes. A new Castle would take pressure off established territories, increase farmable land, and create a deluge of possibilities for people of all walks of life. Instead, everyone just wanted to get rich adventuring, and ignored the dangers of beast tides, mist raids, and the impossibly legendary creatures with calamitous powers that crawled from the mists every few years. The saner people worked with the goods the adventurers brought back to Havenstone.

“Love you too, wildfire.” Mom whispered back to dad. They’d been calling each other firefly and wildfire for as long as I could remember, but I didn’t know the story behind it. I’d never asked, not out of disinterest, but because it never occurred to me until now that there might be a story there. Maybe I’d ask mom after the trip, dad probably wouldn’t tell me.

Castles didn’t, couldn’t, matter to me right now. I couldn’t make one, but I could at least go on this expedition with dad’s adventuring party and witness the mists just once. As a blank I had neither the power nor magic to do anything, I’d hide amongst the Dustwalkers like a coward. How could I impress Blaise and get a recommendation for the Quartermaster out of him? I had no idea, how could a powerless weakling that’s just a burden impress the leader of a successful adventuring party? It was time for me to be an adult, and for adults all that mattered was the season’s acquisitions of monster parts and magical resources from the mists to sustain the glorious magical industry of Solarias, may it be blessed under the benevolent gaze of Mithras, and the true world grow ever larger.

“Stick close to me, no matter what happens, son. Some of the Dustwalkers might be as good as family, but others might as well be strangers. Don’t get yourself into a bad spot and expect help from anyone but Remy and I, ok?” Dad didn’t speak until we’d gotten a good block from the house, as if he estimated mom’s extra-sensory abilities couldn’t pick up his voice anymore, and then give himself a few dozen extra feet to make sure she wasn’t in listening range.

“Err, dad? How am I supposed to impress Blaise?” I asked.

“Blaise respects quiet competence. Don’t cause a stir, help with the cleaning and cooking at night time, and maybe stab a few beasts with your spear.” Marius said after a moment of quiet. “Only weak creatures! That’s a normal spear, it won’t pierce magical creatures.”