When Ayra Sylvahnna was summoned by the president of Foxerall at the bewitching hour of a stormy night, she realised it was the dreadful beginning of a dark end. When an A-rank mission entailing the capture of a vicious demon was assigned to them, Ayra Sylvahnna knew this was going to be very different from her other missions. War and love will clash with each other. Trust and betrayal will face each other. And Ayra must be prepared for all of it. A journey encompassing around three wizards, who find themselves amidst a deadly storm of unfathomable power, cryptic prophecies, dead kings and lost queens, fight against death itself. A chronicle of friendship, love, happiness and betrayal that revolves around three powerful and fierce-hearted wizards who each have a story to tell. Note: This is a slow burn romance so don't expect them to kiss at chapter ten or something. It's gonna take time but I promise you, the journey will be sweet :3
The heavy downpour had faded away with the wind, leaving a trail of freshness and a delectably earthy scent in it's wake. The thick black clouds that huddled together shyly opened themselves to the world below, tenuously releasing a soft ray of the sun to kiss the earthen lands of the city beneath.
Ayra maneuvered like the quiet wind, her Stygian cloak wrapping around her like a phantom ghost. The cloak was wet and dragged her body down, the boots she walked in made an aggravating 'sloshing' sound at every step, strands of her moon-white hair lay limp and wet and her fingers shook from the cold, but she didn't slow down.
The streets were foggy and murky, the cobblestones, slick and wet. Every now and then, a strong and a vexatious wind would blow and hit her in the face. Ayra fought the sudden urge to command the wind around her.
They moved through a throng of hurrying passerbys, muttering soft apologies every time they bumped into someone. Valda and Neslyn walked on either side of her, their faces partially hiding behind the heavy hood they each adorned atop their heads. But she knew the cat-and-dog weather bothered them too.
After a long, dreadful walk, they slowly came to a halt and dragged their hoods down.
The high-rise iron gates of Foxerall Academy stood proud and unyielding against the icy bite of the harsh wind.
Ayra lifted her eyes to the iron gates, at the grand obelisks of the academy that seemed to reach out for the clouds above. Under the grey sky, the academy looked eerie and spectral.
They stood directly in front of the iron bars. A gentle wind blew, softly picking up a few strands of her moon kissed hair.
The wind seemed to welcome her.
Valda sighed loudly and slumped her shoulders.
"Ah, we are finally back. Now we don't have to sleep on filthy and sodden surfaces, use thickets for covering our oh-so-precious bodies or present them as grand banquets for the wild creatures lurking in the wild." She huffed out a laugh and pulled back her hood.
Wisps of her fiery crimson hair had treacherously escaped from its tight braid. Her viridian eyes were bright under the dull sky. With her hands on her hips and a smirk slicing her face, she faced the academy.
"I wonder who was responsible for such a bitter and terrible fate to befall us? If only a certain witch didn't try to convert our coverlets into hammocks and didn't tear them in the process and put an inferno spell on them and burn them out of spite, then maybe we wouldn't have had to sleep on the ground." Neslyn muttered lowly, but towards the end, her voice had increased and Ayra half wondered if it was a deliberate move.She fought the urge to snicker.
Valda, who was still facing the academy, lifted her hand and scratched the back of her head.
"Damn, the pests are buzzing really loud these days. Oh," Valda turned to face Neslyn, "Nessie! Did you, perhaps, say something? The buzzing was too loud so I was unable to make out which one was yours."
Ayra chuckled and shook her head. Neslyn, on the other hand, simply sighed, as if she was used to all this. "It's alarmingly impressive how you manage to act coy and annoying at the same time."
Valda grinned in response. "You love me."
Ayra smiled at her two best friends before making her way towards the iron bars.
"Open the gates, Orus," she said. "We have returned."
The mortal-faced iron gatekeeper slowly opened its eyes. When Ayra first stood in front of these gates, she was no less than astonished to have discovered a metal sculpture that could speak. Moreover, it eerily resembled an elderly man with a handlebar moustache and a beard that elongates the chin.
Orus, which was the gatekeeper's name, was grumpier than a woman on her monthly cycle. She wondered if Orus had been a mortal, he would be an imperious, egocentric and an overbearing one with a hand pompously pulling at his goatee. She was suddenly thankful that he was simply a gatekeeper.
"Eh, you have returned?" He sighed, as if disappointed at their whole existence, "I'd hoped you wicked lot would have been eaten by those Nightwalkers you went in hunt of.
Came back in one piece, I see." He even had the nerve to 'hmph' at them.
Ayra wanted to melt his metal beard out of its roots but she controlled herself and smirked in a way she knew would irritate him.
"Orus, Orus, dear, Orus. If you'd missed us so fiercely, you can simply tell us. There's no need to be getting so shy. Besides, it is a pleasure to see you in one piece too. I thought you'd get all rusty and red after that heavy cloudburst."
Neslyn and Valda snickered behind her.
Orus curled his lips in distaste. "How preposterous! Such rudeness from a little child like you, though it is not a surprise that you act like the child of a demon. Little wicked thing you are."
Ayra smiled in a way that proved his point.
"Come on, old man. Open the gates already. We are tired of looking at you." Valda huffed beside her. Her sun-kissed face looked dull and tired but they still held a steady sharpness in them. Ayra wondered how she managed to look tired and fierce at the same time.
Orus groaned. "I do not wish to keep you here for long either. Begone now. I need to rest after all that talking. Besides, there's someone waiting for you."
With a shudder, Orus went silent as the iron gates opened. And in the darkness, stood a woman. An owl was perched on the women's right shoulder. Its large, protruding eyes sharply gleamed in the darkness, making it look eidolic.
Nascha, with her cropped dark hair and cobalt eyes, was no different. Her skin looked pale under the gloomy weather. With her dark eyes and inscrutable face, she looked every bit of her feathered companion.
"Welcome back, wizards. I'm glad to see you've returned unharmed."
"No shit." She heard Valda swear which was followed by a harsh 'smack' and a loud 'ow'.
When Ayra glanced back, she registered Valda scowling at Neslyn while rubbing the side of her head.
Fortunately, Nascha did not seem to notice. After silently ushering them to follow, she turned towards the entrance of the academy.
"It was a tedious mission, I believe. Mother Danelle advised taking some rest before you meet her in her office." Nascha turned to face them. "Shall I inform her to expect you in the evening then? Around eight, maybe?"
Ayra looked at her friends and nodded after taking in their agreements.
"Alright. I hope you'll be presentable at that time. I shall send Envyr to fetch for you." She said, gesturing to her feathered friend.
"That would be convenient. Thank you."
Nascha nodded and whirled around to leave. When she finally left, they turned around and started towards the student chambers.
"Did she indirectly tell us that we look dirty?" Valda voiced out her wonder.
Ayra tilted her head. "We do look dirty." She paused and slightly sniffed herself, before scrunching her nose. "And we stink."
Valda looked at Ayra. Then at Neslyn. And at herself. Her nostrils slightly flared and she looked up at them a beat later, eyes gleaming.
You're right, it seemed to say.
"Nascha is scary. Even her pet is scary." Valda exclaimed with a shudder.
Neslyn grinned. "You might not want to tell that in front of her next time."
"Why? What is she going to do?"
"The last time a student called Envyr her pet, she grew so angry and sealed his mouth shut for a week. The poor guy couldn't even eat and had to beg her for a whole day to free him of the spell." Neslyn explained with a shudder.
Indeed. Ayra remembered what happened.
Nascha, even with all her indifference and stoicism, was one of the most intimidating people Ayra has ever encountered. She didn't really know Nascha. Apart from being Mother Danelle's loyal coadjutant and an immediate right hand, Ayra knew for a fact that she prioritizes Envyr the most. Even above her own well-being.
Valda grinned in response. "If that happens to me, I'll just create a reverse spell. That way, I won't have to kneel in front of another sorceress."
Ayra smiled. Valda's blazing heart and savageness were some of the main reasons why Ayra admired her so fiercely. Even when everyone stayed away from her, Valda was the only person to see her as a challenge rather than a threat. Valda fought her head-on with a confident spirit.
"Fight me, Stormbreaker."
Those were the first words Valda said to her without hesitation. She didn't cower away as the others did. Ayra liked that. A lot. She was bad, alright, and when she found someone as bad as her, she liked it.
She looked at Valda, who had her brows furrowed in concentration. As if she was already gathering ingredients for the spell in her head.
Ayra smirked. The witch bows down to no soul after all.
Neslyn smiled and Ayra knew she was thinking the same thing. They shared a knowing look.
The Grand Bell chimed six times, the sound resonating through every corridor and chamber of the academy. Students poured out of their classrooms, their frenzy movements and twinkling eyes bidding goodbye to the last session of the day.
Empty hallways flooded with students, silence turned into pandemonium. Students stared at them as they passed by, some in caution and some in wonder. Ayra knew they made heads turn, even though it may not harbour a good reason behind it.
They were about to make a turn towards the garden and to the students' quarters beyond it but their feet slowly slid to a halt when they heard a commotion outside.
Students pushed past them, curious legs carrying them towards the garden to see what the heavy clamour was all about.
"I wonder what is going on," Valda mused out loud before making her way through the crowd.
Ayra shared a fleeting look with Neslyn, and like the swift wind, they went after their best friend.
The other end of the hallway opened to a magnificent garden. And behind the large fountain, gathered a large crowd. Ayra spotted Valda by her crimson hair and began pushing through the crowd.
"Why is everybody standing here?" Neslyn inquired after they reached Valda's side.
"An Astral Guard has visited from the palace." A student next to them informed, excitedly. "Mother Danelle is having a conversation with her inside the glasshouse right now. We have no clue what they're talking about but we rushed here as soon as we heard an Astral Guard is walking in the premises."
"An Astral Guard? From the regiment?" Neslyn gasped delightfully. "What business do they have with Mother Danelle, I wonder."
Valda shrugged. "They seem pretty close. Maybe it's personal business. I mean, Mother Danelle was part of the Astral Guard Corps when she was young."
Neslyn blinked. "That's right." She paused for a heartbeat, "I've never seen an Astral Guard before." She rose on her toes, trying to see past the sea of inquisitive students.
She backed down and muttered dejectedly. "Forget it."
Ayra kept her eyes on the glasshouse. She couldn't see what was going inside but she wanted to wait and see.
An Astral Guard.
Her whole being grew attentive at those words. Her dream. It was her dream to become one.
A dream that sailed on a promise that she made years ago.
I'll become the most powerful Astral Guard ever and I'll protect you."
"I'll protect you with my life."
"I promise."
Ayra closed her eyes. Stop, she told herself.
Being an Astral Guard was a distant dream now.
Yeah, a distant dream.
Then why? A question intruder her thoughts. Why was she here, in Foxerall, working hard to be stronger and fiercer and more powerful everyday?
I believe in you, Ayra. I believe in you.
It was because of those words. Those words struck a deep chord within her. Words that she cherished and vowed to carry in her heart till the end.
Ayra snapped her eyes open at the same time a student next to her squealed in surprise.
"Oh, Celestials above! It's Cyrille!"
She spotted Mother Danelle walking towards them, accompanied by a tall, dark-haired female.
Cyrille. One of the Seven Guardians, the most powerful and the most skilled wizards of the Astral Guards.
Cyrille. The Maiden of the Unknown.
Ayra has heard about the guardian. How the unknown of the other world would whisper things to her only, how it found her so lovely and abominable, that it entrusted her and chose her for power so wicked and so immoral that no normal being can hold command over it.
The Eyeless Truthseeker, the wind would carry her name.
She towered a good foot above Mother Danelle. Her pewter gown looked simple but elegant, her long, dark hair cascaded down in soft yet thick waves. Hands folded in the front and head held high, Cyrille looked every bit of the wicked power lurking within her.
Her pale violet eyes stared fixedly towards the front but Ayra somehow knew that even if the Guardian was blind, the powerful seer could feel her surroundings. Could feel the eyes of many bodies crowding her, could feel everyone and everything.
Cyrille's eyes could see things that normal eyes couldn't. Could stare down at things that normal eyes would glance away from. And that's what makes her powerful. She made her weakness her very own strength and thrived on it.
She was the Eye of the Seven Guardians.
How ironic, Ayra thought.
The crowd parted like the sea when they reached them. Students whispered and shyly glanced up at her. Eyes quietly admired her. Admired her for her regal beauty, her power and her knowledge.
Mother Danelle noticed them amidst the sea of students and gave the barest dip of her head, acknowledging their arrival. Ayra, Neslyn and Valda responded with a bow of their own.
Ayra and the others stood still as Mother Danelle and Cyrille passed by them. But Cyrille, who was passing by quietly, suddenly stopped in her tracks, back straight and alert. Then, as if something snapped within her, she whirled around and directly fixed her eyes on Ayra.
Ayra felt the wind stir.
Pale, violet eyes bore into her very own ones. As if it could see into the deepest and darkest parts of Ayra's soul. As if it was slowly ripping her apart and prodding into her, to see if she was really what she portrayed herself to be.
Ayra stared back, unflinchingly. A little intrigued by the powerful being in front of her.
Those eyes squinted, slightly. As if in concentration.
What are you seeing? Ayra wanted to ask.
The students suddenly turned quiet, slowly taking in the scene before them. They whispered and whispered and whispered.
Why is the Guardian looking at the Storm Breaker?
What did the Storm Breaker do to attract her attention?
Is she truly the devil? Did the unknown whisper about her to the Seer?
"Is something the matter?" Mother Danelle asked gently, concerned eyes drifting between the Astral Guard and her student.
Cyrille's mouth pulled back into a sensuous smile, eyes still fixed on Ayra. As if she can a truly 'see' her.
Cyrille lifted her chin up and said, with a soft smile, "Nothing at all."
With that very smile, she turned around and made her way out.
A hand gentle rested on Ayra's elbow.
"What was that about?" Neslyn quietly asked.
"I don't what that was but it was very, very creepy."
Valda shuddered. "Can she truly not see? To me, it seemed like she could perfectly see."
Neslyn smacked her on the shoulder. "That's a cruel thing to say, Valda!"
"Ow! What the hell?" Valda grimaced in pain.
The crowd started dispersing. Some went on their ways and some went after the Seer and Mother Danelle.
"Come on, Ayra. Let's get going." Valda wound an arm around her shoulders and began dragging her along.
An ominous feeling settled on her chest and Ayra could not shake it off. She tuned out her friends' bickering and slightly looked back at the entrance of the garden Cyrille had just gone through.
Even though others did not see it, Ayra did. She saw, in those pale violet eyes, she saw a glimpse of fear. A kernel of raw fear that was masked behind a calm, ruthless face.
What did you see? Ayra wanted to ask the Guardian. What did you find that made you look at me like that?
Ayra was not sure if she wanted to know the answer to that.