Arc Magic, "The Tools Of Creation" [Intro]

It was a tiresome hunt. One that stretched across the entire mountain region of Fiore, but it was about to end once a strange man dressed in all sorts of arms slammed the wooden doors open to the inn. Both staffs and weapons such as steel axes and knives were attached to his person, along with a long rope and a small scroll.

His business in the inn was short; he sought information of a young man with white, short hair decorated by a small, blood-red clot on the left bangs. A man with a distraught, bloodthirsty glare who dared not to say a single word to anyone he met. Luckily, some had already seen such a character pass by the settlement a few hours ago, assuring the hunter that the target was not far away now. Although, said target was reported to have gone even further up Mt. Hakobe’s more restricted areas… the kind of areas where people weren’t guaranteed to return. At least not fully.

But the hunter was devoted to finding the target, so dedicated that he saw not the dangers further up ahead as reasons to stop now. Not when he was so close…

…

The jacket wasn’t helping Addre one bit – he needed something thicker for these temperatures. Easy, if he ever needed something, he could make it with his bare hands in an instant. Over his palm, a round circle of magic light appeared, and with a single invocation like that, a dark cloak surrounded his person and sheltered his body and head from the cold winds.

But what was going to help him against the giant, roaring bear standing several meters over him? On its hind legs, it threatened to chop him into two with its large, crooked claws and fangs, but another magic circle spawned right underneath its feet – once again, the circle was just that; a circle of light with no symbols whatsoever.

The bear now found itself stuck in some kind of cage with a track leading far away from Addre. With no other option to take, it moved along with the cage-way until it found freedom again, not able to see the male in a long radius. The summoning of such a long cage could prove worrisome, since people would be able to trail along with it to find him, but he had already made counter-measures to ward off the hunter from before. Said measure made itself known as a sudden cry in the distance, near the settlements where said hunter had found his foot stuck in a bear trap.

It wouldn’t stop him… Addre knew that. Perhaps he wasn’t going to make it any further – what else lied ahead of him? Instead of advancing further, he found a nearby oak tree and sat down under its struggling tree crown before spawning another circle underneath. In front of him, a small plate with fish skewers and grilled steaks was spawned, along with a mug of ale and a stress ball. He took a few bites from the meats, then slushed it down with ale before squeezing the stress ball intensely. It broke quickly, rendering it useless as he threw it back where a small trash can was spawned to grab it. His body was beginning to leak out mana again, unused mana that begged to be converted to spells and to magical objects.

His body was covered in black, alchemical signs from his previous masters. They all tried to suppress his Magic as they deemed it supernatural in the world of arcana, a forbidden source of spells that no human being should ever possess. He was a walking Arcana, a wandering, lost personification of Lost Magic…

WC: 617
TWC: 617

There was something going on further down the mountain, that much was clear. The sounds of painful cries and bloodthirsty fury easily heard by the angel’s slayer enhanced hearing. Generally, the mountain was rather quiet and most of the natives who knew of the guild were smart enough to stay out of the way of the members but today, it appeared, someone was making a mess. So, with her tasks already completed for the day, Medeia had taken it upon herself to take flight and make her way down towards the ruckus, amused more than anything. As time passed, she could begin to detect a magical signature, raw and uncontrolled, which only caused her curiosity to spike. Such delicious energy but so untamed that she doubted the user had much if any say when it came to mastering it. Perhaps they were a novice in search of guidance or maybe a young tearaway who just desired to watch the world burn and cause havoc? Somehow, she was of the opinion that it was most likely the latter, as the mountain and Errings Rising itself was a magnet for those with darkness in their hearts.

As she reached the base of the mountain and continued on, she would soon come across a rather bizarre sight. A large bear, running for its life, seemingly petrified by fear and completely out of its mind. It made no attempt to attack the witch and simply dashed on, straight past her and off through the trees. She could not help but smile slightly, her hunch seemingly proven and resumed her search, the flow of magical energy marking an easy trail for the powerful angel to follow. The longer she followed it, the easier it was to detect the level of strength and she began to muse that the mage must have been fairly strong. Raw but capable of dishing out some pain when necessary. There was a peculiar tang to the mages aura too, giving her the idea that it was probably an ancient, perhaps lost type of magic. Her intrigue was increasing by the second and as she reached a particularly large group of oak trees, it was there that the wielder of the magic was found.

She could tell by his scent that he was a male before she saw him, a young one too and although she generally would have rolled her eyes at this, there was just something about his aura that kept her interested. That dark magic which was just begging to be embraced and controlled. So, the angel would approach, her desert-like apparel appearing rather unfitting for the frigid conditions. Yet, thanks to her guild mark, she did not feel the cold in the slightest.

“Your magic is leaking out all over the place. If you are not careful, you might just attract something more powerful than a bear. Something that your raw power might not be strong enough to handle.” Her tone was even for the moment, neither mocking nor praising him. “You are dangerously close to stepping into my guild's domain and we will not tolerate being attacked by a rogue boy who has no control over his powers.”

(533 Words)
(1150 TWC)

!!!

Addre’s first reaction was that of wariness and caution – his feet shoveled him backwards, having his back hit the tree behind as he slowly glared up at the entity who joined his company. It was a tall, ink-haired woman dressed so lightly, as if she didn’t even feel the cold surrounding them. The pure Ethernano that leaked off of Addre’s skin reacted strongly to her presence too, as Magic of all kinds recognized each other and had certain ways of showing their reactions. The leaking lessened, and the flow of bright mana appeared heavier, as if it plumped quicker to the ground in defeat.

She began talking to him, warning him of the leaking Magic from his living corpse. His eyes widened slowly, unsure as to how to stop the disorder; it had to do with the symbols on his person, surely. These accursed, alchemical brands from before… oh, if he could just scratch all of his skin off! It was so unnerving!

Lifting up his arms, he draped off the cloak and revealed black, alchemical seals drawn in pitch-black ink… well, it would’ve been easier to make up their colors if not for the fact that they were functioning as opened gates for his mana to leak out of. Slowly, he’d return his arms to himself and begin scratching the seals with his nails, trying to physically inform the sorceress in front of him of his ailment…

He did not speak. Not verbally. Not orally. No recognizable word or phrase escaped his mouth, which would’ve made it much easier to relay the request of help to her.

However, the hunter was approaching their location. He, too, had spotted fresh footprints of a huge bear having escaped a while ago, thinking it to have been the cause of the leaking mana from that annoying boy. The hunter was assured that Addre was running out of fuel, however; that was the whole purpose of those alchemical seals.

Gates to empty him of mana. Once he collapsed, he was to be brought back to the foundation, designated O.H. His mission could not fail, not with what the boy was storing in his very self…

WC: 363
TWC: 1513

The angel did not need to dwell too long to put two and two together with his hand gestures just about able to confirm her quickly growing suspicions. His magic was emptying at a faster and faster rate and Medeia was well aware of the likely result should he run out completely. He would pass out completely and possibly worse if his ailment was not handled swiftly. She was frankly sickened by the brandings that had been forced upon the boy and to see his potential locked away by such foul seals caused her anger to build. The Ace had always been one to encourage those she taught to fully embrace and unlock their true potential and to come across someone who had been forcibly restricted, the complete opposite of what she believed, was infuriating beyond belief. Perhaps there was time for something to be done about it and to her own slight surprise, she found herself moving in his direction and kneeling down before him.

“Right.” She said calmly, looking him in the eyes.“I believe that by casting one of my stronger healing spells upon you, I may be able to help you in removing these seals. That being said, it is going to require some work on your part as well. My spell requires anger and hate in order to activate its negating qualities, so you are going to need to focus inwards and harness your more primal emotions. Given the insidious nature of these seals, I do not think it is wrong of me to assume that you have suffered in your short life and I ask you to focus on that. The darker and more painful the feeling, the more potent it will be and the higher the chance that the seals will vanish. Judging from the speed at which you are losing mana, we are only going to get one shot at this before you pass out.”

There was no time for doubt and so the angel quickly began to chant in an ancient language, one that was dark and foul. The result would be a blood red suit of armour that would begin to cover his form. She did not even ask him if it was what he wished or not, as the simple fact was that it was his only real shot at staying conscious. It was rare that she would take the time to aid a perfect stranger but he had such great magical potential that it would be a travesty for him not to be able to reach the heights that he was obviously capable of. Perhaps if things went well enough, he would walk the halls of Errings Rising as she did? She would be lying if she said that was not in the back of her mind as well, as Medeia was always on the lookout for new talent. Those who were capable of such enormous feats that would benefit the guild and who were not blinded by the stupidity of the council and the sheep he defended it.

(511 Words)
(2024 TWC)

Did she… did she understand what he was trying to inform him? She was sharper than most, he’d give her that… it was such a hard time talking with people, for he could never bring any words out of his mouth. He relayed information via movement and signs, for his verbal skills were at an all-time low.

And despite that, she offered to help him. She would cast a powerful healing spell on him, hopefully to remove the seals afflicting him and his out-pouring Magic. He… he didn’t catch the term at first; anger… her spell needed quite displeasing, untamed emotions from him to work, if what she said was the truth. Why it needed so was left a mystery, but… she was right.

It wasn’t pleasant, having had these seals placed on him before. Thinking about it, not much had been pleasant about his earlier life… it had been so empty. It was the whole reason why he did what he was doing right now; fleeing from his clients, wandering on his own where he could be his own master, his own client to take care of. And just when he thought he had gotten away to start a new life, those scum happened to send a hunter after him…

It was maddening. He didn’t pay any attention to the blood-red suit of armour donning his dark flesh, but the abhorrent memories combined with the betrayal was too much for him to think of. He even began clawing into his hair, trying anything to quench the ache from these images in his head. Who did he serve for all these years?

And why?

Did they ever deserve his aids and cooperations? What had he been doing for all those years?

What had happened to his teen life? His childhood? He couldn’t perceive anything solid from that time, no concrete memory of him being just a jolly boy. He had just been working, serving… and only recently did he learn that he had wasted his time.

It sickened him to the very core.

And as if they were ever grateful for his services, in the end! To send a hired arm after his damn throat, those fucking ungrateful, worthless bags of shit, he’d slit their throats and fill their bellies with all the terrible things in this world if he ever got the damn chance-!!!

First now did he take note of the armour around him. Remember the aching feeling from his Magic pouring out of his flesh? Yeah, it had braked harshly… as a matter of fact, the aching in his head had seized as well. For the first time in a long while, he felt relaxed… drowning in terrible images of how he’d enact his revenge on those who sent the hunter, but his face looked so blissful. It was new, this feeling…

“… H-Huuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah…”

The first sound brought to the helpful witch’s ears was that of a relieved sigh. Although his eyes, the mirrors to his heart, told another story, he looked peaceful now… and soon enough, black liquid simply dropped off of his skin, remnants of the alchemical seals that no longer took effect.

But before he could do anything to showcase his gratitude to the beautiful witch in front of him, his maniacal eyes turned to the side where he spotted another surge of magic emerging from the shrubbery. It was met with bristling growls from the young man, before mana once more began to manifest in him… this time, however, it stayed within his flesh and was ready to be converted to whatever spell Addre wished. Yes, yes, whatever he wished would be… the true depth of Arc Magic was its ability to fulfil its wielder’s wishes. Be, and it shall be…

The hunter realized that the client’s alchemical activation sequence wasn’t responding. At first, he looked panicked, but noticing the black liquid right below Addre’s sitting form made the hunter’s skin shutter. “Y-You’ve removed the seal?! Hey, lady, stay away from him! Now!” While the hunter was in a state of panic and emergency, he still found enough courage to pull up a brass staff with a strange, metallic orb at the tip, “Addre, listen… I’ve been sent to bring you back, and I intend to do so. Don’t hold it against me; I’m simply doing my job… I’ll… I’ll even overlook the fact that you spawned a locomotive inside the belly of my partner, if you just let yourself return to the O.H.” The metallic orb at the end of the staff surely had a detrimental purpose against Addre’s Magic, so the boy was slowly up on his feet and backing away in caution. That orb felt so… discriminating to all manners of Magic.

“And you, lady! I told you to move away from him; the Arc of Embodiment is no laughing matter… I’ve seen the terror it can cause, so heed my warning! This is your last chance, Addre! Surrender, or I’ll take you back by force!!!”

The hunter’s warning was simply exchanged with a blood-curdling scream of hatred from Addre as his mana began to burn, converting into a new, visible form. This hunter was full of himself; just how was Addre going to destroy him…?

WC: 876
TWC: 2900

There was barely any reaction from Medeia towards the hunter at all, her attention firmly on her patient who had seemingly been cured of his ailment. The leaking had stopped and although he had just roared in such an animalistic way, there had been a few moments of blissful peace before that. She had seen it in his eyes and that was all the proof she truly needed to see. He was no longer in pain and judging from the scream, he had followed her instructions to the letter. Anger was an emotion that the angel could sense more than any other and it was now pouring from the boy, wanting to be expressed in as violent a way as possible. It was promising and the ancient being knew that it would serve him well. Now though, he needed to focus it all on the enemy who stood before him. Already she was tired of having the hunter’s grating voice assault her ears. His threats were meaningless and although Medeia could kill him with little more than a wave of her hand, it would be far more gratifying if the boy himself did it. If the hunter’s comments were true, Addre seemed to already be capable of performing some rather nasty spells. Creating a locomotive inside a living being? Only a truly dark mind could do such a thing without remorse.

Finally turning towards the hunter, she frowned and finally spoke. “You lecture me on the dangers of magic? Know your place, mortal. I do not know who or what the O.H is nor do I care but clearly your ilk has done enough damage to the boy already, judging from his reactions to you. I would burn you alive for such an insult to both him and his magic, if you were actually worth my time. Instead, I think I will let Addre here do what he wishes with you. He is no longer chained by your foul seals and I admit that I am curious to see what he can do.”

When she was done, the dark mage would move behind the enraged boy and utter in his ear. “Destroy him, Addre. Show him what happens to those who anger you and bury him and his horrible staff. You have no reason to fear him, now that those seals are gone and you will find that my armour has actually increased your magical power for a short time. He does not deserve mercy or pity and if I were in your position, I would want to truly make him suffer along with whatever the O.H is. Do this and I will show you a place where your magic will be appreciated. Where mages are encouraged to embrace their feelings and spread beautiful chaos across the land. You will no longer have to be afraid of anyone and can start causing others to fear instead. I am sure you will love doing just that. Conjure up the most horrible item you can think of and annihilate him with it.”

(510 Words)
(3410 TWC)

How come… she didn’t fear him? The thing he held was no ordinary staff; his companion from before, whom he mentioned had died by Addre’s hand, wielded one too. It beat back any matter of magic… and yet, she behaved like she was in no danger. Just how absolute was she? Who was this helpful yet undoubtedly menacing witch?

Alas, a question for another day. Addre had grown weary of the hunter’s presence too, and that staff had to disappear from the face of the earth as soon as possible. The witch who came to his aid was in on it and even exchanged words of motivation to the young man and his little quest to tear the hunter apart, reminding him so conveniently of all the intentions and desires he held at the very moment. Yes, yes… O.H., the hunter, anyone who were against him simply had to disappear, that was obvious from the start. It was what his heart desired now… and it wouldn’t rest until the hunter stopped responding to any signals of life.

There was no thinking of anything beyond that for now. Addre was an impulsive mage, it was one of his greatest strengths… but what she said next solidified something deep inside of him. She wanted to show him a place after this, a place where he would be appreciated and allow his crazy, chaotic and ever-scorned Magic to roam free… someone where he could start over again. His book, the life of his that belonged to him alone, he could finally start writing it.

And above his left hand, a small circle of void manifested, just wide enough for an orb to enter. He left it floating back, then swayed it from side to side, quickly catching the all-paranoid attention of the hunter who felt outmatched against two. His mission was crucial, and failure was not an option, but he still tried to turn back and run away from them, which pushed Addre over the edge. If one was good at reading body language, his demeanor would have been screaming something along the lines of this:

You were so busy hunting me, but you don’t like being hunted back?!?!?!

With a thrust of his hand into the backside of the black hole, a crystal was shot forth from the front and dug itself right into the hunter’s shoulder, causing him to grunt out in pain. He wasn’t even fast enough to erase it with the orb of Oblivium, but he did launch a giant fireball back at Addre’s position, which actually appeared to land and blow off the top part of the man’s torso…

Wait…

Addre appeared to not emit human blood, but instead of veins and cut off blood capillaries, copper wires and burnt motherboards made up the interior?!

As if having performed a skit, Addre was standing right next to the mech-Addre, his bloodshot eyes still focused on the hunter. During the confusion, the hunter’s body had gradually transformed into… into crystal. Grunts and groans of fear escaped the hunter’s lips as he collapsed, feeling cracking stone that used to be muscle tissue dig into whatever organic flesh was left, causing immeasurable pain to surge through his crystallizing corpse. It was like a spreading disease…

Addre simply turned to the witch and nodded, confirming that the hunter was slowly dying an agonizing, unpreventable death. The tiring but excruciating voices escaping him… such inhuman huffs and puffs, moans and a couple screams… Addre felt no remorse for what he had done. The hunter had brought this upon himself…

WC: 596
TWC: 4006

Moving away from the boy slightly so that she could get a better look at the fight, Medeia was intrigued by just how Addre handled himself in battle. There was no mercy at all and the witch was certain that his anger and rage would be put to good use as a member of the guild. Medeia was not completely sure about just what type of magic the young male wielded but she guessed that it was similar to an imagination type, using his thoughts to conjure whatever he liked. The scope of such a magic was almost limitless and the raven haired woman wondered just what else he had summoned during his time. If the hunter was to be believed, the boy was most definitely a threat which was precisely what the witch was looking for and as she watched the fool die an agonising death, it appeared that his words were not simply idle ones. The death of the staff carrying idiot was a slow and painful one too, causing a smile to cross her features. The boy was cruel, yet another trait that would serve him well in the future.

Addre turned to her then and nodded, seemingly finished with his task and yet there were still no words that escaped his lips. Still, the angel was a master of languages and she was able to get the gist from his body language and grunts. He looked satisfied with his efforts which caused her smile to widen. Ignoring the death screams of the hunter for the moment, she would speak only to the boy. “You did well and I hope that you enjoyed taking out your anger on him. He clearly deserves every moment of pain that you have caused him to feel and with time, you will come to enjoy every kill. That is a part of the guild that I am a high ranking member of, you see. Our main goal is to remove the council, the police, all those who try to force the law upon us. We seek to end all of that and allow the people to rule for themselves instead. Those who survive our reckoning will be able to live in a world without the chains of the law holding them back. It will be chaotic but with that comes freedom, something that you have clearly been robbed of for so long. I believe that you would make a fine addition to Errings Rising and as I said before, we will not restrict you in any way whatsoever. You will be free to do whatever your heart desires and we will only encourage you to do so. A home is what you will have, at the peak of the mountain, a castle that you can call your own.”

One she finished speaking, the witch turned to the infuriating staff that the hunter had wielded and with the slightest movement of her hand, she unleashed a fireball which burnt the foul creation to a crisp. It reeked of anti magic and would no longer threaten any mage with its horrible powers. Turning back to the boy, she would then ask. “Does Errings Rising sound like a place that you think would suit you? The decision to join or not is entirely yours and you can simply say no and walk away if you would rather not.”

(564 Words)
(4570 TWC)

It felt lighter. Like one had just breathed out, emptying their lungs and looked at the atmosphere in front of themselves fill up with oxygen just a bit more from their exhalation. It was like burping after having drunk a liter of cola. It was relieving… so relieving. He liked it.

The witch had explained that she was a part of a guild – an organization of magicians, so to say. That was what Addre knew from tales that his employees used to share; names such as Plumed Serpent, Sabertooth, Silver Wolf, Fairy Tail, Elysium and the Rune Knights came to mind at first. The guild that she was a part of, however, did differ quite a lot from what he assumed a guild was all about… people who tried to force a law upon others would always meet opposition, which Addre had assumed was an immortal fact. It was like seeing your country being colonized; you couldn’t help but rebel, right?

If people ruled for themselves… yes, if they truly only cared for themselves, then they wouldn’t have to stack up with each other to oppress one, poor guy like Addre. If his clients weren’t influential among others, then perhaps he could’ve cut loose long ago… people always group up to oppress someone, in the end. Maybe it was the same for Errings Rising, the name of the attractive guild reaching its hand out to him now, but…

It sure sounded pleasant. He wanted to have allies, and he wanted to scream more and more. He wanted to feel his own emotions again, to indulge in them and to feel like nothing was holding him down anymore. In fact… even the concept of being killed in such a world, such an anarchy, would prove quite… satisfactory. When no bias and manmade bullshit existed, then every death correlated to the natural order, entropy. The only kind of death that Addre would ever accept…

Safe to say, he was in. His eyes, for the first time in a while, seemed to lower their guards and reveal his strong, yellow irises and flickering pupils. He witnessed her spell aimed at the staff, and he was worried that it wouldn’t work – that staff wielded an orb of something from Pergrande, something that nullified mana. Her spell would lose power before it could even do its jo-

W-What?

…

After witnessing her spell do away with the abomination, Addre pulled up a chalkboard from nowhere and began scribbling letters down. Despite his loose-brained appearance, he was an adept scribe and wrote up a phrase, what was in his heart that he wanted to tell her at the moment. This couldn’t be conveyed with bodily movement only:

I want to join your guild, Ærins Rising. And I want to grow stronger with this Magic of mine. And I want to meet the others at your guild, too, and aid them in whatever help they need. Whatever they desire, I shall summon for them with this invincible potential of my arcana.

And I want to be able to rewrite the laws of nature and the entire world, one day, with my Arc of Embodiment. The only way a worthless source of valuable constructions – a human genie, I dare say - such as I can solidify my role in this nexus is to clamp it between my two hands and spit at its face. I’ve been used so much that I forgot how to be of use, but I will change that first. I don’t know what my heart hides, and I don’t know myself too well, but I can assure you that this is my objective. With your authority over me, in strength and beauty as well, I ask you to lead me to my promised home and seedbed for the rebirth of the universe. I will not die until I have reached my goal, that I can assure you.

His scribbled words were… not from him. No, they didn’t look like a guy like him, with his expressions and behavior, to say such things. To have such… ambitions. If anything, it felt like a jab to the side, but… Addre was chaotic. He seldom knew his own nature, his own desires. He was only beginning to grasp the surface of the monster that his parents had to abandon… a monster that was tucked away at the back of his mind by otherworldly forces.

To rewrite the world sounded chaotic. No, it sounded impossible… but it was all the fault of his parents. No, of O.H. Of the hunter. They gave him this tool and expected him to behave like an obedient, braindead child? He was going to give them results that they never even dreamt to desire. He was going to make them lament in their judgements of him.

Oh, how he yearned for that day…

WC: 810
TWC: 5380

He had a far more eloquent way with words than she had expected but the angel was beginning to think that perhaps there was far more to him than met the eye. Addre had such promise and with such a broad and varied magic, who truly knew what he was capable of? It was well worth exploring and Medeia truly had no doubt that he would fit into the guild. Errings Rising was such a mix and match kind of guild when it came to its members. Some were maniacs, some were monsters and honestly some were simply kind souls who had fallen into darkness. The angel had met many members in her time by this point and she had always been surprised by just how unique every member truly was. There was none of the usual rubbish, as was the case in legal guilds, who all followed the doctrines of the pathetic law without seeming to spend even a moment questioning it. They were puppets, pulled by the strings of the council. It was pathetic.

Addre had made him up his mind, judging from his well written answer to her verbal question and she was soon nodding her head in response. Beckoning him to walk along with her, she would then start back up the path towards the guild hall. As he was mute, there was no point in her doing the whole talking over her shoulder thing so she was content to simply walk alongside him.

“I promise that you will not regret your decision, Addre. You will have all the space and time you need to learn the ins and outs of your magics and the only real restriction we have is that you try and avoid harming another in the guild. We may be dark mages but we are still a guild and there is no tolerance for those who wish to harm the guild from the inside. Errings Rising...” She emphasised the name so that he would remember it in future. “...Members are always on the lookout for ways to climb the ladder, so to speak and removing a traitor is an effective way of doing so. If you come across such an individual, be sure to remember that.”

As they kept moving, she would then continue after a brief pause. “The hierarchy of the guild is quite simple. Our guild master is Queen Saraphina, founder and naturally the longest serving member of the guild. I am Medeia, the sole Ace of the guild as it stands and I suppose you could say that I am the second in command. I tend to do things such as inducting new members, dishing out punishments to those who have transgressed against us and I am also the lead scout. I admit that I have come to enjoy these tasks which certainly was now what I was expecting when I took on the role. All other members, yourself included, are on an even footing and treated equally. There is no elitism here. Saying that, keep your guard up as some members may try to act tough by ordering you around. Handle them as you see fit.”

(529 Words)
(5909 TWC)

He could fathom tall constructions in the distance as they approached the home of Errings Rising. The icy winds began pushing him forward as if encouraging him to achieve his destiny, his very own little prophetic climax that would ignite a whole new world to fire up. It was obvious that, while anarchy and staying true to oneself were keystones in the identity of the guild from the witch’s words, Addre was still expected to not harm the guild. She even noted something worthy of remembrance… the act of removing traitors, and the possibility of such betrayals to happen in the guild. He would have to keep his eyes open, lest he found himself with a blade through his back.

Then, he was informed of the Guildmaster, Queen Saraphina, who was also the originator and founder of Errings Rising. He could’ve sworn that he had heard that name before, but maybe it was just reminding him of an old folktale. While he couldn’t put any face on the bearer of that name, the witch’s own name was then revealed – Medeia, a peculiar and unreasonable name that didn’t correspond to any Fiorian dialects. He knew next to nothing else about her, so he couldn’t fabric a real opinion of names and stuff, but he digressed – she was Second-In-Command of a sorts, being Errings Rising’s sole Ace, which made sense given her unbearable miasma.

No, really, despite her beautiful face and fashionable robes, there was this… unreal miasma emitting from her. If he didn’t suppress his Magic Sensory, then it could render him immobile overtime. What was the deal with her and that air of dread, contradicting her welcoming attitude? She must’ve commanded great, arcane strength…

“… Hnnh?” his voice faintly lighted up at hearing about the absence of ‘elitism’, causing his eyes to comically sparkle. Despite there being a small hierarchy, he would still be in equal footing with the guild’s personnel. And if they teased or tried to intimidate him, then he had permission to counteract as he saw fit… it sounded too good to be true. He didn’t even have to worry about getting bullied or finding a way to stop it without exerting too much force, for it was all simply laid out – do what you must.

… Say, if he were to meet a Queen… real royalty, right? He shouldn’t be dressed in torn, brown robes like these; definitely not in the presence of a leader of such a pleasant group of mages. Addre still harbored some inner desire to perform and present himself well, and surely the Queen wouldn’t belittle him for that.

So, on their way to the guild hall, his outfit had blinked away and back to a new set, now wearing a black loose shirt with matching leather pants, a white cape hanging over his shoulders along with golden jewellery. In his hands, a flat, wrapped present in red was revealed, and he kept it close to himself.

WC: 495
TWC: 6404

Sensing the sudden use of magic from beside her, Medeia would turn her gaze once more to him. His attire had completely changed and the angel could not help but smile approvingly in his direction. He seemed to know the score in terms of how to handle royalty and social occasions, which was more than what could be said for many who walked among the castle. There were quite a few who lacked the social graces and although the angel herself rarely bothered, she was at least cordial enough when the situation called for it. Royalty was not something that existed where she came from although she supposed that her father was somewhat like the King of her sect. There was not the same sense of pageantry though and Medeia had certainly not treated him like a King. No, they had fought constantly until things had finally come to a head. That was why she was where she was now. A holy being in a world of mortals. Still, she could not truly complain. She had learned and gained so much during her time in Fiore and she could cause almost anyone to tremble without any real effort. Medeia was far more now than she had once been.

“I must compliment you on your new outfit. A lovely choice.” She said approvingly. “There is no need to have to wear such garments generally but at least when meeting the Queen, looking smart is always the right choice.” He had even gone to the trouble of creating a gift for her majesty, how thoughtful. “I think that you are going to do just fine here, Addre. Just keep your wits about you and you will succeed. I will also mention that the Queen is very keen on our members bringing back the heads of enemies and placing them on pikes. A rather gory and vulgar way of going about things but I am sure you can understand why. We seek to make a lasting impression on those who seek to challenge us.”

As the angel spoke, the large castle finally came into view and she added. “There it is. The guild hall of Errings Rising and more importantly, your new home.”

It was truly an awe inspiring sight and even now, after seeing it so many times, Medeia still felt a slight tingle when she saw it. Such a majestic and beautiful structure, only to harbour some of the most chaos loving and depraved individuals that Fiore had to offer. It was deceptive to say the least but that did not make it any less impressive on the eye.

(439 Words)
(6843 TWC)

Aww, it kind of warmed his heart to hear Medeia’s words of approval to his suit. Truth be told, the cape looked more like a lab coat hung around his shoulders, which softly eluded to the inspiration, but that was for another day to unravel… for now, Addre just liked the design. It was his outfit, now. His, you hear me? No one else could lay claim on this fabric… he felt the chains of ownership coil around its threads, written in his name.

But to be fair, as long as it belonged to him, then he was prone to wear just about anything.

First time was it for him to hear of a Queen who reveled in having her subjects bring the heads of enemies back home. It was an easy task to behead dead people, but the reason why she found interest in it escaped him… a show of power? Even though it was stated to have been rare for people to venture up here? Or perhaps a hobby of sorts; to dot your plot in a theme… she sounded very eerie. It was as if her haunting shadow ever cackled at the sight, hovering above her revealed, majestic castle fit for certain royalty…

The guild hall of Errings Rising was amazing. Addre doubted that he could even replicate such a structure with his Arc of Embodiment – was this going to be his new home? Undoubtedly, everything was going to change from this day on. He couldn’t help but grimace in excitement, revealing his snow-white canines. To hell with whatever kind of weirdos he was going to live with – it was going to be a blast!

!

Wait… damn it, why did that thought not cross his head earlier? Addre had to warn her, somehow, lest any more annoyances ruin the day for any of his new home. Clapping his hands together, he caused his mana to escape once more through his fingertips – grits symbolizing space-time was visible for just a brief instance before he was seen holding a long, paper origami between. The origami spelled out:

The dead man was from a group called OverHeaven.

He would clap his hands together and form origami writing new words each time:

They’re searching for me. My Magic helps them in something important.

Clap.

They might find us here. I find them annoying. They should be easy prey, though.

Clap. Addre had sighed at that point, as if he had to admit something.

I know little about my Magic. It doesn’t hold me back a lot.

Once he clapped again, it wasn’t origami between his hands… it was a warm mug of coffee. He took a quick sip of it, then clapped again – and without spilling a single drop, he had transformed it into a wool hat. Once more, and it was transformed into a loaf of bread, then a ridiculous longsword. It really seemed as if imagination was his only limit… but how much could he imagine?

Clap.

Where’s the Queen? I want to meet her soon.

WC: 508
TWC: 7351

The angel watched as he performed a series of claps which revealed a message to her. In honesty, she was not in the least bit concerned about the delinquents that had been after Addre and knew that they would simply not be a match for the guild. There were many powerful members within the halls, most who could probably easily tear apart a good number of the OverHeaven group. The angel herself, who was probably the strongest of all, had no doubt that she could wipe them off of the face of the planet but for now at least, she would not go after them. They had already received a warning today and if they were not smart enough to learn from it then there would be a reckoning. She was certain that Addre for one would enjoy the chance to rip those irritating wretches limb from limb or more likely, summon something unpleasant and batter them with it. Such were the unique strengths of his powers. There truly did not seem to be a limit to what he could create, as long as he had the imagination to think of it. He would become a powerful mage indeed with time.

“Forget about them for the time being.” The angel finally said, a smile crossing her features once more. “If you want vengeance then I am sure that the guild will aid you with it but for now, let us see to getting you approved as a member of Errings Rising. I have seen more than enough to be certain that you will make a fine addition to the guild and I see no reason as to deny you entry. All you need now is the stamp and that is something that the Queen’s most loyal supporters keep on their person at all times. If you give me a moment, I will summon…”

“You called for me, Lady Medeia?” A rather soft voice uttered from behind the angel.

With a soft chuckle, the angel would look over her shoulder towards the beautiful blonde haired seraphim that was approaching the two. “I was about to but you seem to have the uncanny ability of knowing just when you are needed. You never cease to amaze me, my dear. Addre here has proven that he is ready to join the guild and I would appreciate it if you could provide me with the guild stamp?”

“Of course, Lady Medeia.” Nadaline replied gently. Nodding politely, she would then softly place the stamp in the angel’s waiting hand, before stepping back.

Medeia would then turn to the young male and ask the question that so many had been asked before. “So, where would you like your stamp and what colour shall it be?” As she spoke, the stamp began to channel through a variety of colours, showing him just a small selection of the choices he had. “Once you have been stamped, you will be free to roam the castle and come and go as you please. I cannot tell you when you will get the chance to meet the Queen though as she is incredibly busy as you can imagine. Do not worry though you will get the chance soon enough.”

(539 Words)
(7890 TWC)

Vengeance… it could wait. It meant that Addre wouldn’t give them even the satisfaction of being of any high importance to him… no, not at all. He was no longer alone, like some wolf pup who had gotten lost from its pack and was eyed down by birds of prey as a rare opportunity for a snacky pick-me-up. If anything, he should re-allocate his priorities a bit from today on.

All he needed, though, was the stamp. His smile grew pleasantly, finally feeling like a member of a clan and a group who resonated with him. He would be a great help to them, definitely. He had all the means to aid them with whatever troubled them – that was the purpose of his Magic, wasn’t it? Then again… no, no, no, he was forgetting himself. His needs, his goals. His wants, his desires. His thirst, his ambition. There were many things that he wanted to accomplish, free of opposition from law, the knights and those who liked to poke their noses in pride.

… Frankly, the softer voice threw him off. A blonde lady emitting an air of divinity – looking like an angel among the ranks of God – had appeared out of nowhere, a feat not many could pull off. With the stamp received from her, Medeia would then ask him where he wanted to be stamped, and… uh…

For once, he was showing signs of indecisiveness. Something as simple as deciding where to have his stamp was… confusing him. Yet, this felt like his first step into deciding big, life-changing things… for himself. Whatever place he chose, it would be of his choice and accord. Therefore, he raised his left wrist and exposed said wrist’s skin to her – a darker theme akin to those of Desierto or around Joya – while pointing at it with his free hand. That was where he wanted his stamp to be, and the color that glittered from the stamp would turn silvery grey…

“Hmh.”

WC: 330
TWC: 8220