Interlude - The Eyes of Maru

***3rd Person Omniscient POV***

In the courtyards of the Cast Iron Summit, a unit of mages from the Guild Association could be seen gathered in the private courtyard of their accommodations. From a glance, it seemed they were just winding down from duty talk and were moving onto… trivial matters.

Totaling eight, the gathering was composed of mostly women. The two men could be seen teetering on the precipice of the yard rather than lounge in their private spring like the rest of them. One shamefully shied away from the yard as he chain-smoked cigarettes while the other, a Ranked Mage, sat at the bar inside to pay almost no mind to the others while he incessantly flipped through the stack of papers before him.

Until, of course, the most distinguished of them all spoke her mind. She was a remarkably young Grandmaster Mage, Gysil Vilignin. She was Amazonian by birth. Though, even without it, she would still tower over her subordinates from where she lounged in the hot springs.

"It is settled."

Her cold tone alone demanded the attention of her subordinates until her words, however long or short they were, were spent. It was the respect each of them held for Grandmaster Vilignin that made them hold their eyes on their titan of a commander, wondering a myriad of different things while she eased her tensed frame a bit deeper into the springs.

Then, she turned her burning gaze to the one adjacent to her. "Remember to show restraint with the commoners, Sol. The other guilds are whiny enough as is."

"I'll keep my eye on her, Madam." Yolanda Tubbs stood to give a stone-faced salute, then turned to face the shameful Magi at the edge of the yard and yell. "You heard the Madame, Dutch!"

He in turn, meekly gave the Staff Sergeant a thumbs up before stepping off further into the cabin at a curiously fast pace.

Though she wouldn't show it, Grandmaster Vilignin was amused by and even enjoyed the dynamic between her most trusted sergeants and their newest additions. Their two new Magi couldn't have been further apart in terms of abilities. Dutch Wilders was experienced in the field but lacked leadership experience. Skye Valentine, on the other hand, was a natural-born leader and had compiled a remarkable record back at headquarters. That said, assessing the royal heirs of Deapou and Odissi would be her first time working outside of her office. Despite the Magi trying to hide it, the unease was more than apparent in her visage. She was naturally quiet, for one. Two, she failed to notice the Grandmaster's studious eye until her Staff Sergeant spoke up in her trademark, grainy voice.

"I've already sent the word to our troops, Madame. They know their orders and who they're working with. They're going over the dossiers now."

"Good work, Lia."

So saying, Gysil eased herself lower into the soothing waters and prepared to let her mind slip away for a few moments until duty once again called.

Tuning out the chatter of her subordinates whilst resting was a skill she acquired as a young novice. Though that time was ages ago, she felt a sense of deja vu from her inability to mute those around her.

"So, you were the one with the lucky draw."

By sound alone, one would assume that Idonea Heydon had simply made an ambiguous and obvious comment. Having grown close to one another through countless battles, however, all but the two Magi's heard the envious inquiry for what it was.

More so, Grandmaster Vilignin heard what was coming next. So she quickly blurted out the first thought to resurface in her mind to steer the Master Mage's words in a different direction.

"What are your opinions on the prospects?" She asked.

"I can see most of the commoners and nobles being recruited." Yolanda distantly waved a hand. "Only the royals are going to the Tree, though. Perhaps some nobles too." She waved again. "But highly unlikely."

"The question is, will our tests be able to accurately gauge his prowess?"

Despite her ambiguity, each of them understood exactly who Master Heydon was referring to. The one everyone in the guild- nay, in the entire Cast Iron Summit was focused on. Perhaps it was due to that reason, many of them assumed, that no one could get eyes on him.

Ironically enough, that meant that Amun of Odissi's dossier was the smallest of them all. Due to the privacy of the accommodations, the guild hadn't even been able to learn what affinities he was granted. Adding to both the mystery behind him and the angst of having to wait to witness his prowess.

"Is he still up there, Madame?" Yolanda asked after a bit of silence.

"No." Gysil quickly shook her head. "Roheisa dragged him to the training grounds earlier. They should still be-"

Cutting her words short was a sudden spike in mana that shook her to her very core. As one, the gathering of eight sprang from the springs to scramble for their gear.

And as one, they stopped in place to crane their necks to the sky.

***

From a distance, a column of blackened smoke could be seen rising from the base of a dense alpine forest. Moving closer to the source, one could hear screams, cries, and vengeful shouts aimed at the heavens. Peering below the canopy brought a modest hamlet into view. A modest scattering of smoldering homes, burning farms, and the ruined beginnings of quarry tucked against the mountain.

In the midst of it, was a weary mayor surrounded by his pleading villagers. Like many of them and the streets around him, his clothes and body were tattered, bloody, and bruised. Yet, he stood tall against the second assault to face him today.

"You know what they did to my family, Silas!" A particularly distraught mother spat in his face. "Are you going to do nothing about it like last time?"

With conviction, tears, and pain flooding his eyes, Mayor Silas broke through the crowd to grasp her hands in his. "I swear to you, Shae, that monster will be brought to justice. Even if I have to make a deal with a devil, it will be so." Mayor Silas.

"We should've never left the territories!" Another voice exclaimed. "Why did I ever choose to follow you?"

Though he wanted to remind him, everyone, that they had a choice in coming here just as he did. Mayor Silas turned to the man in question and rested a gentle hand atop his shoulder. "We knew the road ahead of us would be hard, Harold. We will persevere, rebuild, and create far better lives for ourselves than the ones we left behind."

Throughout that exchange and the following minutes after, the captain of the town guard silently watched from behind his mayor. He said nothing, for it was not his place. His job was to protect this place. He and his troops had done that, if barely. Thus he should've been assisting in fire fighting and the long list of other priorities instead of staring at the Mayor like a lost child. Following him wherever he went.

When Mayor Silas moved to douse fires, Rodin followed. When citizens were consoled, Rodin was there. And he didn't speak nor take initiative until they were on their way to the relatively untouched town hall at the city center."

"They don't call you Mayor. They spit in your face. Express dissent. And you just take it. Why?"

Silas took a moment to reflect. Not on his answer, but by the curiously neutral tone expressed by his guard. It was an exchange akin to a student addressing their teacher, Mayor Silas assumed, then compartmentalized the note before replying with his own question. "If I can't or won't shoulder their pain and anger, Rodin, who will?"

Sighing, he stopped to turn and gaze upon the little hamlet they've created. At the people aimlessly wandering the streets, throwing hateful glares at both the Mayor and the woodline beyond.

'How could Mayor Silas swear upon justice when his town guard wasn't even strong enough to eliminate the threat?' Rodin wondered as he followed the Mayor's gaze.

"Were you serious?" Rodin eventually asked. "Would you truly sell your soul to protect a place with no history?"

With a gentle smile, Mayor Silas turned to Rodin. Radiating a blissful warmth and a solid conviction in his eyes that negated the need for words; nevertheless, he went ahead and said it anyway.

"I've already given my wealth, status, and now my body, Rodin. My soul is all I have left to give for these people."

Rodin wanted to say many things, at that moment. Conversely, Mayor Silas wished to say nothing more.

In the seconds following their silence, both of their wishes came true.

A burning blue light appeared from the north, bathing the land in its glow as it ascended to the clouds. And one by one, the mourning wanderers in the streets turned their heads to the source, and so too did Rodin.

"What the hell is that?"

Ignoring both Rodin's question and the blinding curtain of light above, Mayor Silas focused on the horrified, fearful gazes of the villagers and Rodin.

None of them, he realized, were like him.

Perhaps that was the reason these villagers chose to follow him.

While others were humbled or horrified at such a sight, Johann Silas only saw hope.

***

A filthy teenager stood off to the side of a particularly busy street, clenching his bruised fist as he stared at the magnificent structure sitting on the horizon.

Like the rest of his body, his face was matted with dirt and vegetation and riddled with scars that were hardly contained by the tattered rags strewn over him.

An all too common sight in a city as vast as this.

Even in a posh and lavish district such as this, the citizenry and city guard paid no mind. He was utterly invisible to the crowd, despite the blatant darkness swelling within him.

From an outsider's perspective, it was a play that'd been performed thousands of times over the course of their vast Empire's history.

From the child's perspective, however, his situation was entirely unique.

Now, he had power.

He was aware that privilege came with power; yet, he refused to break bread with hands that his neck could recognize at a moment's notice.

Now, he had two opportunities.

Both of those paths lie before him, in that very castle. The place of his miserable beginning. Regardless of what path he took, it would serve as the end of his miserable existence. And either his inexistence would continue, or his life would begin anew.

One path, he could pursue one now. The other, after a bit of time.

Having decided upon his answer, he closed his eyes to take a deep breath before stepping down his chosen path.

As his lungs emptied and his eyes opened, the vengeful child felt his fists relax. His eyes grew wider as his legs grew weaker, eventually stopping him in place and forcing him to his knees.

For a few seconds, he forgot to even breathe. He and countless others around could be seen on their knees or reaching to any nearby surface for support, staring wide-eyed at the web of lightning sprawling its way south.

Then came the thunder.

***

"Yes, Mother."

"And remember, you come from the finest lineage on the Mortal Plane. Make sure everyone gives you the respect you deserve. Even if you have to force them!"

"I will, Mother."

The mother in question was an esteemed woman of regal stature. A proper lady who held so much knowledge, wealth, and power that her robes, crown, and jewelry appeared to be meager trinkets in the face of her wisened features, studious stare, and demanding presence. All who saw her knew her as the Empress of the largest landmass on Maru.

In the face of her son, however, she was as normal as anyone else.

"Honestly, Winston." She heaved. "Are you certain of becoming an adventurer? You'll be without the many serving girls and slaves you have here."

For the first time since she entered his room, Winston turned his eyes away from the window- away from his homeland, to give his mother the gentlest smile he could muster.

"I'm positive, Mother."

So saying, Winston paused to turn back to the window. First to continue committing as much as his homeland to memory. Second, to see the ant-sized frame of the urchin standing outside the grounds like he'd been doing all day.

With those images fresh in his mind, Winston faced his mother with a genuine smile and wrapped her in his embrace. "I'll just get new slaves."

After pulling each other away, Winston saw pride and all the other positive emotions blooming in his mother's eyes. Naturally, it was a sight that caused similar feelings to rise within him. So when he saw his mother's face slowly shift from surprise, to disbelief, and to horror, Winston's emotions were swept along a similar trend. Only, his were compounded by the gut-wrenching fear of the unknown.

A small cascade of dust falling on his shoulder brought his thoughts under control. Instinctively, Winston turned back to the window, only for time to seem to slow to a megasloth's pace.

A quarter through his turn and the unprotected windows began rattling, followed by the chalices, tables, and other pieces of furniture until the castle itself was shaking atop its foundation.

As a result of either the shock or the sheer intensity of the blast, Winston became aware of the deafening roar only after it'd passed. When he vainly called out to his mother, only to hear a distant screed in his discombobulated mind.

Regal as ever, his mother, on the other hand, simply sneered at the light flickering behind her son, sucking her teeth at the showoffs up north.

With her mood now soured, she gave her recovering son the warmest smile she could muster as she turned to leave with words of encouragement.

***

<<What do you think the Champion looks like?>>

Laele ignored her subordinates' inquiry in favor of continuing her inspection of her army from afar.

After days of power marching, they made camp the upper reaches of the Dark World, approximately twenty kilometers below the surface of Ulai.

The permanent fortifications had just been erected and the first rotation of guard shifts had just finished, and Yassra was already making idle conversation.

If it could even be called that.

In regards to Telin and his champion, all elves were on the same page. That said, Laele couldn't exactly blame her for being curious.

<<Like you, perhaps.>> She jeered.

For the first time in perhaps hours, Yassra removed her sights from the high elf legion and set them on Laele. Her contempt was masterfully shrouded behind a submissive expression. Faux as it was, Laele saw right through it but chose to do nothing at that moment. For it would do no good to prove stereotypes true to the pasties.

Instead, she turned her gaze to the klutzy regiment. <<It's comical, isn't it.>> She sneered. <<They can hardly see down here. From the height of their horses, they assume our sight is similarly limited. They don't even attempt to hide their unease as a result.>>

<<Humorous, yes. But far from interesting.>> Yassra concurred with a soft nod. <<What's interesting is the elf who departed towards the surface after our arrival.>>

<<An elf with a task. That's nothing new.>> Laele scoffed.

<<Not just an elf.>> Yassra shook her head. <<A new blood.>>

Laele lunged towards her at once. <<How old!?>> She spat.

<<Fifteen.>> Yassra calmly replied. Then waited the few moments for the cogs to turn in her master's mind before she continued speaking hers. <<I'm simply playing catchup. So.>> She subtly sneered. <<I wonder, what affinities the Champion has.>>

<<That's an easy answer, he's the only one in the Plane with arcana-powered death sorcery.>> Laele snorted. <<His appearance is another story entirely. And Eved, most high, has her lips sealed.>>

<<The affinities granted by Him are the same then.>> Yassra shrugged. <<All we have to do is find a human with arcane magic.>>

As if to punctuate her words, a sudden quake plagued the dank caves around them. Bringing to mind the image of a giant far above, striking the ground with a hammer.

And with a half-mocking sneer, Yassra turned to her master's seemingly worried frame.

<<I suppose there's our answer.>>

<<Don't be stupid.>> Laele spat. <<I doubt even his magic could reach this far.>>

***

Far above the clouds, an inhuman man with greenish-red skin stood on the precipice of a rooftop terrace. Even as a suited human approached from his rear, the towering figure remained statuesquely still.

"To see you outside during a graduation." The woman chortled in disbelief. "It's unlike you, headmaster."

With his eyes still locked to the north, the headmaster pointed a clawed finger ahead. To a cascade of blue light flickering through the fog that persisted beyond the shores of their vast peninsula. "It appears we are fated for great change, Mal." He softly grunted.

After searching for a full second, Mal's silver eyes widened to the brims of possibility. "Yes indeed." She gasped in awed disbelief. "But, is the change good or bad? That's the question."

"Any change that is good for one, is troublesome for another." The headmaster sagely answered.

To which Mal only shrugged "At any rate, this new batch of students should prove to be quite interesting. From what we've seen so far, they're the most diverse class yet. And after seeing that and hearing from the Necro King." She nodded to the fading lights beyond. "I'd say the Maruleans will be the center of attention this year."

"The Necro King?" The headmaster slowly turned to his assistant.

"You haven't heard?" She softly recoiled. "He all but guaranteed that his great-grandson would be in attendance this year."

"Ah." The headmaster sagely nodded to himself. 'So, the Nox has finally returned to this here tree."

"Nox?" Mal shook her head in bemusement. "No, Sir. The heir to the Cole House of Odissi."

'Oh, how times change.' The headmaster silently wallowed. 'How the young are raised ignorant, leaving tales of legends lost to time.'

"How sad." He sighed.

To which Mal only shrugged. "At any rate, I'll see you inside."