First Wave

Raising ahead through the majestic Redwoods, the rustling of bushes, tugging of branches, and hushed whispers began to fill the tense air.

"Hurry! We need to get moving!" A passionate voice torn with anxiety hollered almost as if pleading. Littered with sweat dampening his tunic stood Balder Soltven, fiftieth son to the Chancellor of Winterpool.

A born tracker, he was often called, mostly in mockery by his father, the Chancellor, Lord Ryker Soltven. Tossed away at birth, Balder Soltven clawed his way through the streets, shifting through piss and shit, to survive.

It was not till a blade from a sworn friend, a brother, entered his stomach, gutting him from side to side, did he learn the world's greatest truth. Only the strong survive.

Balder was then pulled from the streets and laid to bow before the Chancellor. Carrying his stomach lining hanging loose did he become recognized as his child. Tears did not run that day, for there was no joy, no passions of promise—only cold, unyielding truth.

Thrown from the streets into a brutal family, who cared not for anything but power, Balder grew and strived, despite the mockery. He pushed through the reapers call and earned the Imperial Sigil to enter the Redwoods.

Compelled by a ceaseless need to grow, to improve, Balder hawk-like eyes skimmed over the recently disturbed grass. Marking three, footsteps that seemed to be in a hurry, he took a whiff of the air that smelt of dew.

"Lord Balder? Please allow us!" An unfamiliar juvenile no more than fifteen years addressed. Carrying a bit of arrogance, one could not miss.

Pulling at his dark black tunic, letting a bit of warm air in, Baldor snorted, "We have ten minutes till the wave starts, and there are four of us. Up ahead should be others, now is not the time to prove oneself; that will be in the heat of battle."

Caldor, a young noble whose family bought their right to participate, cheeks grew red. He glanced back at the other two, both female with fair looks, and grew embarrassed. "But of course," he conveyed, lowering his head to mask the shame of rejection.

"Caldor, when will you learn? I swear it; you grovel more than a dog." Nila swiftly caught, not missing a chance to mock.

"Leave him be. He means no harm," Said Tena, showing not much concern towards Caldor as her face remained focused on the handsome gentleman of her eye, "Young Master, are you on the lookout for Lady Kalna? We are quite unlucky not to begin in the same pasture."

"We are moving out," Balder swiftly declared, charging once more.

Tena raised her lips, not in the least offended by Balders' dismissal. She had heard many tales regarded the reclusive son of Chancellor Ryker. Cold and commanding, carrying enough potential to make into the Redwoods on potential alone instead of wealth.

Trailing behind Balder, the sounds of murmurs began to sound louder and louder the closer they drew.

"My Lord truly is skilled." Said Caldor confidently. Getting a glance of the two women and one man, he smiled as their footsteps came to a swift halt. "You there! Who is your leader! State your name!"

Staring at Caldor race form out of the bushes, covered in sweat just as Ella and Sionn were, Aurelia ignored his words and held focus on Balder, whose eyes were wide as the stars.

Taken by the two maidens who were a bit too young for his taste, Balder's traced his gaze over the young man gripping a scimitar at his waist. His brow scrunched as he scanned his surroundings.

"Have you no words for the fiftieth, son of the Great Chancellor of Winterpool?" Caldor barked, filled with righteous indignation.

"It's time," Said Aurelia as a booming horn rang through the land stirring the trees like a powerful gush of wind.

The skies had begun to darken ever so slightly, bringing with it an eerie sight of dark particles that danced alongside the breeze; rising from the ground, the dark light began to meld together. Casting away the light, the Redwoods started to release a scarlet light bringing a demonic chill to everyone.

Aurelia glanced at the tree leaves glistering light and shifted her gaze towards the coming darkness. Passing Arcana through her meridians as her master instructed her to, her breath grew calm as the ocean's depts.

A humanoid creature similar to a goblin, housing jagged bones growing from its joints into a fine point, pressed past the darkness. Its skin was a deep grey with the texture of tree bark and about a meter in height, without much muscles, but the furious grin on its hideous appearance conveyed dread.

"Cre'von," Aurelia swiftly recalled having seen such a thing in Zariels manuals. Shaken by the fiend's appearance, her apprehension vanished as her winged core fluttered its wings, bringing a deadly coolness to her mind.

"Three times stronger than a man and twice as fast." Balder carefully said, pulling a common iron sword from his waist; he parted his legs and readied his stance.

Surveying her surroundings, Aurelia counted fourteen possible Cre'von spawnings. "Back to back," She swiftly commanded as Sionn and Ella formed a triangle shape formation with Aurelia.

Admiring the swiftness of the Young fallen actions, Balder did not bother to do the same. He was a lone wolf; were it not for the advice of Chancellor Ryker, Balder would tread his path alone.

Releasing a high pitch screech capable of shattering glass, two Cre'von shot toward Aurelia like a moving bullet. Blitzing through the grass, they arrived, slashing their claws towards her neck on each side.

Holding a cold, unfeeling grace around her, the Fallens arms shot out, just at the wrist of the beast. Parrying the two Cre'von in an instant, a smile appeared on Aurelia's lips as she did the impossible.

Being able to stop a first-Tier monster in a contest of power, while not unheard of, was rare, even on Illuthath, where races of all kinds dominate.

Taking a step forward without breaking her formation with Ella and Sionn, a vicious kick coiled through the air in a sinfully quick strike, tearing the head off the Cre'von on her right. Sending up a guizer of blood to match the glow of the Redwoods, Aurelia's palm crashed into the chest of the second fiend to her left, destroying his heart in an instant.

Taking care of two Cre'von without issue, Sionn's eyes glistered with a solemn light. He was not like Aurelia, whose body was inhumanly durable and strong — he dared not clash head-on, as a graceful cold glint of a dance skimmed through the air.

Severing the first Cre'von by the neck before it got to close, his eyes widened as he saw a familiar Rapier magically appear in Ella's palm.

"Son of a bitch, you had a weapon this whole time!?"