First Impressions

"Was it really wise for us to leave my companions in the river? Ms. Crock and Mr. Wormy should've been able to keep up with us, you know." Arcelius asked.

They were walking through the grassy plains, passing under the shadows of trees that stood nearby.

"Unlike me, my people don't take kindly to water worms or crocs. They'll be fine. Also really? Ms. Crock and Mr. Wormy? That's how you name your companions?" Rhea said, raising a brow.

"It's what came to mind during the heat of the moment." Arcelius explained, feigning having no choice over the matter.

"Really now," Rhea doubted, "In the heat of the moment."

Arcelius smiled as he scratched his chin and looked away.

"Well surely they aren't THAT bad... my patron would approve... I think."

Both fell silent for a while.

"I have never heard of your God, this.... Ispios, and you say he's your patron?" Rhea asked.

"He lifted me up when I had no hope, entrusting me to do the same for others, " He said, "And he was a good friend."

Rhea raised a brow at his last statement, but refrained from asking.

Arcelius was, to put it mildly, confused and somewhat insulted by Rhea's apparent ignorance of the fact that Ispios existed. During his time in Daigmun as emperor and champion, every corner of the world knew the God he served, and they served him in turn.

But to think that Rhea, a human no less, seemingly did not know Ispios meant that there were indeed grave tidings that needed to be addressed.

He would address them soon but not now. He didn't know much and he was certain that the world he was now walking on was no longer the world he knew when he left.

It felt as if he was a stranger setting foot on lands unknown, a mere explorer and adventurer.

Arcelius shook his mind from his troublesome thoughts for now. He had been having too many of said thoughts lately. It wasn't a good sign.

"I've never ever heard of someone worshiping only one God. Especially a God I don't know. Is he not part of the High Pantheon?" Rhea asked.

"High Pantheon?" Arcelius said, confused.

"You do not know?" Arcelius shook his head, "Wow, you really are a stranger then."

Rhea hesitated for a moment as if there was something about it she didn't like.

"The High Pantheon, or the Six Great Gods as they are also known, are the only proven gods to exist and thus are worshipped by almost every race," Rhea explained, "They were also my gods, once. Not anymore."

There was a shift in her tone. It was cold, with a deep anger that lingered between.

"You refused to name them." Arcelius pointed out.

"Of course I refuse!" There was a sting in her voice, "They abandoned my family and my village when we needed it. Our prayers are better served elsewhere, to those who actually care."

"Then there are other gods then? Not just the High Pantheon." Arcelius said, his tone neutral.

It took a moment for Rhea to reply, "Yes.. many in fact. But we do not know them. None have come to bless our village nor has any sort of missionary come this far out the eastern lands.

Eastern lands, she said. How eastern?

Arcelius had more questions than answers now, but it seemed that now was not the time to ask them.=

"Your village," He said, changing the topic, "How is it doing now?"

"Getting by." Was her only reply.

"You don't seem fond of your home." Arcelius said.

"I have no home." Rhea said.

Arcelius stopped and looked at her.

"Then where are you leading me?"

Rhea turned and looked back, their eyes locking.

"To my village, as I said." Rhea answered.

"But you said you didn't have a home." Arcelius said, unblinking.

"I may have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep on, and food and drink, but I do not consider such things as home." There was pain in her voice, a feeling Arcelius knew well.

"I'm sorry." Arcelius apologized, realizing what she implied.

"You're forgiven."

They walked further into the grassy plains, silent and distant. They were soon before the foot of a hill that loomed high.

"My village is up there, on that hill." Rhea said.

"I don't see anything. Just some trees and grass." Arcelius said as his eyes zoomed in on the top. He sensed the presence of many humans though.

"The hill is wide on top, my village is just a bit further in. You'll see." Rhea assured as she began to walk up the slope.

Arcelius followed behind her, his senses rousing him along the way. He was being vigilant. The world was now unknown to him and any misstep or mistake may result in dire consequences. He wasn't willing to go about unprepared for the worst.

He looked around and beheld the grass plains and trees that flanked the hill. It was a calm scene, with the sun basking the greenery with light, and clouds looming beneath the pale blue sky.

It had been awhile since Arcelius beheld nature and admired its beauty. It was all so beautiful and tranquil.

But as he stared into the horizon, his mind began to wander. Scenes of old began to play in his mind.

Blood drenched plains, littered with bodies of friend and foe. Scorched earth and burning homes, the smoke billowing into the air. Screaming, groaning, the dying cries of men, women, and children, filled his ears.

He found himself back there, standing in the middle of it all. Sword in hand, dripping with crimson blood. Armor slathered and battered. His banner fluttered in front of him, dragon and eagle with fire and claw.

A crimson sky loomed above it all, the sun unseen and its light unfelt.

And just like that, his heart sank and tears began to well.

"Arcelius?" Rhea's voice snapped him from his memories.

He flinched but immediately recomposed himself.

"Sorry about that." Arcelius said, slightly embarrassed.

"You are troubled, greatly it seems." Rhea said, seemingly warming up to him.

"And so are you, I can also tell." Arcelius said.

Rhea smiled dimly.

The two went silent as they continued up the hill.

They soon reached the top and they came upon fields of rice and many grains. Judging by the growth of the crops, they were at least 2 months away from harvest.

Beyond the fields were palisades two men tall with wooden towers dispersed around. The fields wrapped around the palisades and Arcelius assumed that the palisades wrapped around the village.

There was a dirt road that cut between the fields and led to the village gates. Two sentries stood between the entrance of the gate.

There were farmers toiling in the fields, wearing paddy hats over their heads to avoid the scorching sun. Indeed atop the hill the sun did scorch more, but Rhea seemed to pay it no mind.

Heads turned and there were calls over the walls. The sentries manning the towers began to move and more shouts sounded. The farmers stopped in their toils and watched as Rhea led Arcelius down the dirt road.

The sentries in front of them shifted as they approached and there was a hint of caution in their posture.

"Halt!" One of the sentries shouted.

Rhea continued but Arcelius stopped.

"Rhea!" The sentry whispered loudly into her ear, "Who is this and why do you bring him here?"

"A stranger, really. But he comes to our village begging for help so I obliged to guide him." Rhea answered.

"What!?" The sentry sounded annoyed, but it did not seem directed at Rhea herself. "Rhea, you know our rules about strangers and giving them alms. Do you know anything about this man besides the lies he may have told you?"

Rhea eyed the sentry before looking back at Arcelius.

"He's also naked." The other sentry pointed out.

"He says he came here with no possessions of any kind. He bears a strange name and worships a strange God. The most foreign stranger I've ever met," Rhea explained, "If he was trying to fool me, he'd make a name that would at least be believable or bear influence from the west."

The sentries looked at him, scanning him from head to toe.

"Yet there is no connection, no influence at all. And I sense no taint of the Corrupt." This seemed to put the sentries somewhat at ease, but they were still tense and on guard.

For a village that was isolated and a maiden that seemed unkempt and distraught, they were more organized than he initially expected.

Rhea seemed to possess some influence judging by how they seemed to be treading carefully with her.

"I'm sorry Rhea, but I must call the elders first." The sentry finally said.

"As you should, we'll wait outside but.. " Rhea stared at his chest, "At least get him a tunic. Doesn't matter if it's been run ragged."

"Aye, I'll get the tunic." The other sentry said.

The wooden gates opened, allowing the sentries in before closing again.

Men and women armed with bows loomed over the towers, eyes fixed on the stranger Rhea brought.

A few minutes passed and one of the sentries returned carrying a brown, rugged tunic. It had definitely seen better days.

Arcelius thanked the man and wore it. He was glad that he was able to finally dress himself without his bare chest feeling the cold wind.

Not long after, the supposed elders came. The elders looked more in their 50s than elderly. There were three of them."

"Rhea, you're early today," His tone was quite jolly, "And you must be the stranger our people have been making a fuss about. I would say that we welcome you but that would be a lie and I'd hate to lie to our maybe-guest."

Arcelius narrowed his eyes at this, but quickly returned to being neutral. Now was not the time to rouse their suspicion that he may harbor ill-intentions.

He was merely there to take advantage of their hospitality, no matter how frugal, and gather as much information as he could.

"Pleased to meet you, good sir. I am Arcelius. I know my parents not." Arcelius introduced himself.

The man laughed, he was indeed jolly.

"That makes us two then! I never knew my real parents but you can call me Gran, Gran adopted son of Jran and Mae." Gran was not a tall man. He was wide, and had a round belly, but his burly beard and long, braided hair alongside his fierce eyes and scarred nose gave him the impression of a warrior.

Arcelius was sure he was. Those scars could only have been dealt by a sword slash.

"Excuse my brother, he likes to jest with everyone." A tall, well-built man chimed in. He wore no smile, but seemed friendly enough with his shaved chin and messy hair.

"I'm Duen, son of Jran and Mae. I'm not related to this oaf but I love him like any brother would." Duen said. Gran laughed loudly and patted his brother on the back.

"And I'm Frun, son of Nurn and Naeas." Said a balding man with crooked teeth and gloomy brows. His hair had fallen in the middle, leaving a shiny patch for the sun's light to reflect upon. He seemed uptight.

"Greetings to all of you." Arcelius offered his hand to shake.

The three men looked at his hand in confusion.

"Oh uh... I guess you don't shake hands here as greetings?" Arcelius asked, withdrawing his hand.

"Oh goodness no. We don't touch the hands of strangers nor do we shake each other for greetings," Gran said, "I must say though that you have an interesting custom."

"Though we may seem uptight about ourselves, I assure we are far from it. Our village, you see, is the farthest in these lands from the cities so we mostly keep to ourselves." Duen explained. The other elders nodded.

"Strangers are often dangerous to people like us." Frun said, coldly.

Arcelius eyed the balding man but smiled in the end.

"But we have come here not to turn you away, at least not yet. We're here to assess you. I say this because I think you already find it obvious." Frun said.

"Of course, I understand." Arcelius looked at Rhea who was standing just to the side.

"I came here to ask for some aid. As you can see I awoke with none of my possessions and no recollection of how I got here in the first place." Arcelius explained. He then began to tell of his journey, how he awoke in the middle of a swampy marsh, how he drew in magic to heal his wounds quickly, how he met his companions, and their encounter with the abomination.

The fact he claimed to be able to use magic made them tense, even Rhea who had thus been neutral.

The mention of the abomination and how he claimed to best it single handedly with his magic was where they took several steps back.

"Impossible..." Frun said, his voice shaking.

"What is?" Arcelius asked.

"You claim to have killed a Mantapus of Corruption. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" He was agitated. No. He was afraid.

"I killed it and that's the truth. I burned its corpse as it rotted fast in the swamp." Arcelius said.

More and more armed men and women had gathered over the walls and behind the gates, listening intently to the conversation.

"F-friend..." Duen suddenly said, his voice rife with discomfort. "If your claim to know magic be true, then can you demonstrate to us what spell you used to kill it?"

The other elders nodded. The atmosphere around them was tense. The sentries clutched their weapons tight and the air felt thick.

"I'm sorry, but using such spells again will prove to be a drain on me. As you can see, I'm not exactly in good shape."

Doubtful eyes looked at him from head to toe, his muscled arms and legs making him seem like a liar.

"Magic is not about muscle." He explained.

"I'm sorry, stranger. But we don't believe you." Frun said, the fear in his voice suddenly disappearing.

"I understand, but I can at least show you how I burned it," He declared, "It drains me less."

"Show us then." Frun said. All of them nodded in agreement.

Fifty or so people came down the hill to witness Arcelius demonstrate his magic. Golden Fire was just that, fire that burned bright and shone gold. At least in the surface. Golden Slash was something he didn't want to show the village, yet. Not until he knew of their intentions with him.

He had asked them to show him a patch of land they were planning on turning into a field in the future. When they finally got there, he told them to stay back and cover their eyes if they wanted to.

Many were doubting him, he could see it in their eyes. Others were apprehensive, some suspicious.

Rhea stood with the elders at the front. They all had mixed expressions. Rhea in particular was torn between being skeptical and being worried.

Arcelius sighed.

"Such a waste." He whispered.

He held his palms forward and they began to shimmer a golden hue. The crowd audibly gasped as the shimmer turned into a flash before golden flames blew forth from his palms.

A massive wall of golden fire spewed forth in a fiery wave. The once lush patch of grass in front of him was engulfed almost instantly in an explosive wave of heat.

The crowd watched with mouths agape and eyes wide. The grass, the bushes, and some trees in the field burned, some were just scorched outright. The golden flames shrank and turned orange and red, yet the intensity of its heat remained almost the same.

Arcelius then turned to the crowd, his back against the raging inferno. They all stared in fear at what they saw.

A silhouette of a man with the fires of hell raging behind him. A harbinger of destruction and death with eyes that glowed gold and fierce.

As smoke billowed into the air and the fires crackled and scorched, the elders were convinced to hear him out and take him in.

'Hopefully I made a good impression' Arcelius thought innocently.