Chapter 1 - Isaac Marx

It was cold and crisp on the night that Isaac was born. The moon hung clearly in the night sky, its light seeming to cut through the darkness. The instant Isaac drew his first breath, the mana, magical particles flowing through the air, seemed to stop and then formed a vortex around him. His father paused and sensed the mana, feeling the flow of the vortex.

“Eight and a half feet,” he declared with a grin, “seems our child is going to be a genius after all!”

The physician quickly annotated notes as he spoke, “Isaac Marx, born on the ninth night of Moon’s Eve to Duke Harold and Duchess Maya Marx, initial mana affinity grade eight, almost grade nine even. I must say Your Grace, your child has got to be the greatest genius born in Tellaire in the last couple centuries, at least. You’d probably have to go to the capital to find his match.”

“What of House Carris? I hear they had an heir born recently too.” Harold gazed at the physician with pointed intent, not quite a glare but with intensity enough the physician knew to take the matter seriously. The House of Marquess Carris had been their greatest rivals for hundreds of years, constantly using cutthroat ventures and underhanded tactics against them. A powerful enough heir could embolden them into actions they wouldn’t have dared before.

“Rumor is their child was born with a rank six mana affinity. He will be skilled, but no genius. This may finally be the generation where your family can establish true dominance. After all, power is the only thing that truly matters in this world, and Isaac is going to have power enough to spare. If he can rise to the rank of Master, he’d have authority on par with the King himself, and if he can reach Archmage...well, that might be a bit too optimistic. I don’t think our kingdom has raised an Archmage in its entire existence.”

“Thank you physician,” Harold replied, “you are dismissed.”

“Your Grace,” the physician politely remarked, bowing before turning and leaving the room. Harold strode over to the window and looked out upon his city. The city of Auruheim was vast, housing nearly 18,000 people. A few hamlets dotted its perimeter outside the walls. As a whole, the city was shaped like a rough half moon with a long wall running the curved edge, and a great forest on the straight edge. No wall stood between the forest and the city for no bandit was foolish enough to brave its depths, but it also proved no danger to the city itself so no wall was ever erected, especially seeing as the forest held the resources the people of the city needed and erecting such a wall would prove an inconvenience to accessing those resources. A glint of anticipation flickered in Harold’s eyes, he could not wait to see what the future would bring.

*****

In the capital of Tellaire, the doors to the great hall of the kingdom slammed open with great force and Prince Eugine Skaald II stormed into the throne room with fury. “This is outrageous!” he cried out to his father, the king, on the throne. “What do you mean I’m not the crown prince, not the heir to the throne? I’m your only child!”

King Eugine Skaald glared at his son and his expressions darkened as he waived the rest of the advisors away. “Leave us.” A long pause followed as everyone but the two quickly departed the room, then continued for a few minutes after. Unable to remain patient, the prince opened his mouth to speak but was stopped before he could by the growl of his father. “You are twenty-four years old, yet you behave like you’re twelve. You are immature, selfish, conceited. You would drive this country and its people to ruin.”

“Who cares!” the prince spat out venomously, “the people are here to serve us anyways, and it’s not like you actually do anything, you just sit on your throne and the advisors do all the work.”

The king glared at his son before the expression switched to one of pity. “You have learned nothing from your lessons then, paid no attention to the affairs of the kingdom nor my role in managing them. I would sooner hand this kingdom over to Cinder Tresk than let you take it over.”

“You would sooner give the kingdom to our enemy than let your own son, your own flesh and blood on the throne?! Preposterous! Outrageous! I deserve the throne, I am your son!”

“Silence!” the king roared, “begone from my sight and do not speak of this again until you have learned what it actually means to be a king!”

The prince stood, cowed for a moment at his father’s outburst, before beginning to tremble in indignation. “Fine!” he stormed away, slamming the great doors behind him. As he left the room, his father sighed and deflated, slumping into his throne, looking as though he had gained five years by that one exchange, no one knowing his thoughts but himself.

*****

Queen Cinder Tresk looked upon her raiders returning home from their raids to the villages bordering the badlands, as well as the unaffiliated tribes roaming within. Her mind returned to a time when she had once been a noble, promised against her will by her mother and adoptive father to the third prince of another kingdom. She had been incensed by this. The prince had proved handsome and kind, and she could do far worse with a suitor, but her freedom and her future were her own decision, nobody else’s. So, she poisoned him. The poison was not deadly, but enough to make a statement, and then she ran off into the night while everyone else was busy tending to said prince.

She fled to the Frigid Badlands, an area far from the leylines where mana was sparse, where the people were divided into roaming tribes that hunted and raided the necessary supplies to survive and she united them. There she formed a ruling body called Eburnemus with her as the queen at their center. She worked hard to coordinate and solve their issues one by one, creating a grand city where they could prosper, trade and grow. Of course, with mana being thin here, and the need for supplies they could not grow or procure naturally, they were forced to continue raiding the nearby countries and sects for what they needed. Ironically, right around the time she founded her queendom, the kingdom of the country of Corzhel fell. This kingdom, located on the opposite side of the great emerald forest, was the very same kingdom that she was meant to be wed into, and now Corzhel was thrown into a political cold war as each faction was building its troops to take the nation for themselves.

Casting her memories of the past aside, she smiled upon the warriors returning home with spoils in hand. “Welcome home,” she called out with a wide welcoming wave of her hand. Inside, however, she lamented. Her people suffered here while memories of an easy life without worry flickered like cursed flames in her mind, unable to be snuffed out no matter how she tried. She wanted that life again, not for her, but for her people, and she would do everything within her power to give the option of that life to them.