The Arcelus

Chapter 1: Heavens Bane

Mirrored in her mineral eyes were the glow of horrors she had thought long buried, banished, an evil defeated. Yet here it was, a forbidding illume bringing her nightmares alight.

It was thirteen years ago, but her memory of that day had remained so vivid. She relives it once again all in a moment, yet felt longer than a torturous lifetime. That rippling green sky, in grim contrast to the crimson of the fires consuming the earth, the puddle of blood drowning around her and amidst that, the scarlet hair of a child.

She shook a breath in. She buried her eyes closed under her hand and its cold stung her cheeks. She lost a moment in her thoughts, a fatal mistake for any soldier but more so for a Captain. She steels her focus. This resolve had pushed her through. All that's left is to face that remnant of a calamity long past. She's sacrificed enough, it ends here.

Let it end here.

She directed her staff towards the trapdoor. Holding her staff at its neck, placing her thumb at the crystal which instantly lit to a burning red. A sun haired sub-commander immediately recognized the spell she intended to cast and the danger it posed, "Everyone, behind the captain!". They gathered behind her cape rippled by a whirring wind, like the standard of legions. It waved two stars shooting across a scroll, the fifth division insignia. The same symbol carved on the soldiers chest plate.

"Alight embers of storm
Smite those of evil form
Ignite and by my will conform!"

Sparks of red lightning arched along the length of her staff. The red flashes of light revealed glimpses hidden in the dark. A presence previously imperceptible.

"Who are you? Step in sight!" Mayven squints at the murk. Rings of writhing lightning surrounds and cracks the blazing crystal of her staff which was now redirected towards the cloaked silhouette.

The figure veiled in the shadows did step forward, the floor however remained silent. Apart from a long heaving breath under the shade of a purple hood.

"A rather unwieldy spell, don't you think?" An abyssal voice exhaled, and as he did, cyan mist escaped along with his words. He took another step, this time a heavy thud shattered the silence, it was his staff. Fashioned from twisted darkwood, the staff was as tall as its user, and rooted at its height was a tetragonal crystal. "Whatever happened with your old one."

Mayven took one step forward, and tilted her forehead the same. She steadies her staff-arm with her left hand. And with an orotund voice she declared, "By the authority of the Mage General Zavel. I, Mayven Lumbrend Captain of the Magical Investigation Division, compels you to relinquish all magecraft instruments in your possession -- " A hoarse laughter boomed, but Mayven dismisses it. "Conform, and no harm shall come to you." at once, ten lucent wands aimed at the suspicious mage.

Sprawling from a visage unseen were puffs of that same unnatural mist. "If I were you captain, I'd point those words to someone else." His hood turned towards the cellar door.

"Gather light." The sun-haired sub-commander invoked a quick cast. To prepare a spell.

Mayven turned towards the trapdoor. The rusted hinges ringed as a blackened gauntlet swung the trapdoor open. A green glow emanated from the soldier, as he carried himself up with one arm, his other arm raised over his shoulder. He had the same cuirass as Mayven's men, only, a different insignia, a different captain, a different time. The armor fit the man but it was clear it wasn't his. Behind locks of ashen hair was a green gaze that surveyed its surroundings.

He was no mage.

Crouched on the air, he counted his strikes and strides, as he grasped for the hilt over his shoulder.