Bathed in the unyielding glow of a colossal tower, the war-torn realm of Craiddhol harbors Elemenium deposits, a mystical material with the power to reshape battlefields and destinies. Three sworn brothers from a peaceful village – Deynfif, the brilliant earth wielder, Einntyr, the boisterous brawler, and Hirua, the scarred but determined warrior – find their lives ravaged by the Miers Empire's cruelty. When a devastated village raises their resolve, the brothers must unite to defend their home. They face the Empire's deadly forces, led by the cold Empress Inaya and her haunting Friedenguard, Arguilla – a threat to all of Craiddhol. Embark alongside them on a perilous quest where every action reverberates across destiny's interwoven threads. With the guidance of the enigmatic Songs of Souls, can their bond withstand the pressures of war, or will their fate shatter under the weight of destiny?
Deynfif blinked sweat from his eyes, the roar of the crowd crashed into silence. The shift was sudden, like a wave pulling back from shore. Einntyr, though, always had a way of drawing that kind of attention.
"Two energies!?" an onlooker boomed. "Impossible!"
"Enough gawking! Let's finish this!" Hirua's voice was a gravel growl.
He gave Einntyr a nod. The corner of his brother's mouth twitched upwards; finger shot out, a line drawn from his fingertip to the Lightning Lancer. "Hey, twinkle toes!" Einntyr's voice echoed off the courtyard walls. "What's the matter? Scared?"
The Lancer's words were a guttural snarl. "You simpleton!" Spittle flew. "I'll kill you!" A crackling like thunder, but sharper, built of pure electricity, split the air as his spear ignited. The Lancer became a streak of motion, hurtling toward Einntyr.
"Feargspar! No!" One opponent's cry ripped through the tense air.
Without warning, Hirua, a blaze of strength and fire, now stood between the Lancer and Einntyr. The Lancer stumbled, the point of his spear inches from Hirua's chest.
Einntyr's yell, "Spray Stream!", resounded over the crackle of lightning and fire. His hand, palm open, thrust not toward the Lancer, but toward Hirua's scorching cutter.
A hiss, then a burst of scalding vapor. It enveloped the Lancer, his spear a wavering shadow in the sudden mist. Hirua unleashed a rapid series of blows, hammering at the obscured form.
"Karantez, go! I'll disperse it!" A high, raspy voice, strained with effort, cut through the steam.
A figure darted through the steam toward Hirua and the Lancer. The haze thickened, obscuring everything. Two crimson flashes pulsed – Hirua's bolo, striking in the blindness. The cue!
The staff hummed, vibrating against his palms. Gritting his teeth, he slammed his weapon onto the ground. THRUM! The ground bucked beneath him. A shockwave ran up his arms, the boom echoing in his chest. Einntyr, it was his turn.
Einntyr's voice cut through the mist, loud, almost frantic. "Earth and Water Style!"
A spiral of fire tore upward through the dissipating steam. Then, through the thinning haze, a dark form emerged, wreathed in flames - Hirua. He landed with a heavy thud on the ground beside the Air Magus. The blur of Hirua's bolo, a red-hot arc, ended its swing leveled directly at the Magus. A sharp clatter – the wand hitting the ground. The Air Magus' hand rose in the air, empty.
The field snapped into focus as the mist dissipated. Einntyr dropped to one knee, chest heaving, breaths ragged. He grinned, a flash of teeth against sweat-slicked skin. Einntyr's arms outstretched, lagrings creaking. Thick, wooden roots had sprouted from his palms, ensnaring the Ice Blader and Lightning Lancer in their grasp. The opponents fought against their wooden binding, twisting and thrashing for freedom. Their attacks were aimed not at Hirua, but at an earthen pillar, a crude mockery of a person.
Einntyr chuckled. "Wood Wrap!"
Silence, thick and heavy, pressed down. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Then, a shift in the crowd. A man near the front, jaw dropped, eyes wide, fumbled for words.
"Energy Conversion?" one bystander gasped. The murmurs spread, a low rumble rippling through the crowd. "Combining elements on his own?"
A voice, closer now, cracked – a tremor of disbelief, "Unheard of! Siblings or parent and child pairs, that's the only way."
"Forget the how! Did you see that combo attack?!" the shout sliced through the whispers.
"Winner - Team Eard!" The training officer's voice cracked mid-sentence.
A wave of sound crashed over him. The crowd, a sea of faces just moments ago, now roared as one. Cheers echoed off the stone walls of the training ground.
The ground rushed up to meet him. His palms slammed against the dirt. "My head feels like it's about to explode," he muttered, pressing his palms against the earth. A sharp throb pulsed behind his eyes. Every muscle screamed in protest. This much raw energy… it was a demanding equation. The Creation Staff… so many variables.
He watched his brothers across the training ground. He needed to be stronger and sharper…
Hirua strode back towards them, a lopsided grin stretched across his face. His gaze lingered on the path leading to the kitchens.
"Thank you all!" Einntyr's voice echoed across the training ground as he bowed. A wink. A shower of playful kisses aimed at the cheering crowd.
…For his brothers…
A strained smile stretched across his face. He surveyed the crowd. Faces flushed with excitement, eyes wide with disbelief.
…And for Craiddhol.
The cheers faded. Voices replaced the roar, a low hum as the crowds shuffled away.
The shade felt good under the heat of the waning light. Time rolled by. He leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, the coolness a welcome contrast to the heat radiating from the courtyard. Hirua sprawled beside him, already snoring softly. Einntyr, restless as ever, hummed while tightening the bandages on his fists.
A low growl rumbled in his stomach. It seemed hours since they'd left the dining hall, though he could still taste the grainy bread on his tongue. Hirua smacked his lips, muttering something about fleogol.
The Creation Earth Staff spun; a blur of polished elemenium in his grip. He added a flourish, a twirl that sent the staff arcing through the air, a silent celebration of the victory still fresh in his mind.
The memory of the 'Geometric Earth' sent a thrill through him. He had discovered his own technique. Challenging, yes, but the success sparked a new wave of potential. Could he create more complicated shapes? A rhombicosidodecahedron perhaps? The possibilities unfolded in his mind, intricate as a geometric proof, each success paving the way for a more complex creation.
"Thinking 'bout your awesome staff? Pfft!" Hirua's words hit him like a shove, warmth creeping up his neck.
"Hey Deynfif!" Einntyr's grin was almost too wide. "What was that you shouted, 'Geometric… something' before you attacked?"
Hirua leaned in, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Spittin' out your moves now, are we? Einntyr finally got to ya?"
His fingers tightened around the surface of his staff. "No! It was an experiment! For the new weapon." His gaze bounced between Hirua and Einntyr. "Just seeing if the attack would… would improve. That's all!"
His brothers' laughter boomed through the courtyard, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. He found his lips curving into a smile.
"Almost forgot!" Einntyr dug into his satchel, then held out two drained lagrings. "Fill 'em up, would ya?" His fingers lingered on the crystals a moment before he released them. "Wouldn't want just anyone messing with these." He tapped the crystals together, a faint chime ringing out.
His brother pressed a lagring into his hand. He took it with a smile and nodded.
"Thanks!" Einntyr's grin wide.
He pushed himself up, eyes already tracing the route to the captain's office. "We shouldn't delay," he said, picking out the most direct path like a surveyor plotting a line. "Captain Zevas will be expecting us."
Hirua stretched, a groan escaping as his muscles complained. "What does the captain want?"
Einntyr's laugh boomed. "Promotion, for sure! Did you see those moves? We were unstoppable!"
As they ambled towards the captain's office. Hooves pounded, a blur of yeferan and rider cutting between him and Hirua. Dust billowed, stinging his eyes. He yelped, throwing himself aside. The woman's face, a mask of tension, whipped past, close enough to feel the wind of her passage.
For a heartbeat, their eyes met - hers, flinty and hard. Then she was gone, her yeferan a distant thunder. He pushed himself up. A silence fell, heavier than the dust settling around him, leaving grit on his tongue and a knot of worry in his gut. What reason could make her ride like that, reckless, desperate?