Salarin’s Coalition, a unique and powerful organization of the continent’s most powerful. From entire nations to individuals, the Coalition was a union and alliance, all for the betterment of one’s home. Originally made by the Kingdom of Salae, the Coalition used a like-minded goal in order to bring together people who normally would be waring. Vast Empire was this diving force, and after their dissolvement the Coalition likewise wary. Some members thought the alliance was done, a bygone era of need rather than want. But recent events all across the continent has brought these powerful individuals together once again.

Nearly thirty seats made up the table, which caused the hosting lands to turn into a melting pot of culture and ideas. Centaurs from the planes, Beastkin from the Lower Savana, multiple collections of large cities, Drakes from the East, various tribes from all races, lonely hermits in search for peace, but sadly no Elves. There, of course, were individual Elves at the Coalition, but none who represented the main city for their race, Esmel.

With such a high number of visitors, the Startemplar tribe increased their boarders to be accommodating. Tents were set up, grasses were cleared, monsters were kept at bay. Temporary homes for the next week had to be nice, but cheap enough not to cripple the tribe. The Startemplars made it work, transforming their home into something akin to a hunting reservation vacation. To some, the Coalition would be a great excuse to get away from home. For others, it would be a place of learning, of duty, and of empathy.

As the sun set beyond the flat treeless land, it marked the official start of the Coalition. A single Centaur walked into the center of everyone’s gaze. He was a tall man, like most horse hybrids, but his hunched back created an illusion of false. He was old, wrinkly, and made use of a wooden staff as a fifth leg. His chest was bear, but across his equestrian half he wore draped silks and leather straps. As if trying to blend in with the Plains, each article of clothing was stained dry yellow and soft brown. Bright greens and deep purples were drawn across his face with paint mixed from berries and herbs, a symbolic and traditional wear for leaders within Centurion tribes.

All around him the circular set of tables quieted, giving way for the host’s words. Before speaking, he looked around his audience, marking important tables and mapping where each party sat. He nodded to a group of three Drakes, each sporting the iconic Dragonkin Pauldrons of the eastern coast. Besides them were a group of Gnomes, each wearing dapper dress and sitting with perfect posture. Next was an old man, a man the Startemplar’s leader would call a friend. The man was Human, and rather old. His hunched back had brought upon conversation at a previous Coalition, causing the two to bond.

An elderly woman wearing a comfortably large robes was next, she kept sneaking glances at a set of tribal water-based healers from a small island to the east. The woman was alone, something that while not unique, was odd for who she represented. Similarly, two people who represented Renloc sat together towards the back. One man the elderly Centauri leader recognized, but the other caught his attention. The man looked afraid. His dead eyes kept darting back and forth between the nearest exit and a particularly dark shadow across the open-air meeting circle.

With a meaningful bow to the King and his two children, the host cleared his throat. “Welcome to my home, friends. For those who do not know me, my name is Sinus Startemplar, and I am the host for this turning point in history. By now, we have all seen the notification dawning a new age, so I will keep my introduction brief as we have much to discuss. As many of you know, the Startemplars, and many other Centauri tribes, study the stars.”

Sinus motioned for everyone to look up. Bright stars were overhead, magically brightened by distant chanting from tribal members outside the meeting. “I would like to discuss the stars, as my opening subject.” A weak groan sounded from the circle. “As many of you may remember, my tribe has been saying the stars are… Off… For many years we have continued to study what our ancestors have taught, and for many years we misunderstood. We have been in the decline as of late, but as new talent throughout the newly initiated bloomed, so did our understanding. The stars have changed-“

“We do not care!” All eyes swiveled to meet the voice of the interruption. A duo, male and female, each wearing expensive leathers and more expensive blades. The leaders of the Assassination Guild, enemies to all of Salarin under normal circumstances. “For the past six Coalitions I have heard the same speech about the fucking stars, I do not care. Please, spare my ears and my time.”

Sinus bore his old eyes into the younger [Assassin], both unflinching. “Very well.” The Centaur spoke, “We will skip my opening statement and add it on to the closing. If you wish to leave by then, so be it.” Sinus flicked his eyes away, turning back to the meeting. “The primary reason we are here is to discuss the revival of the Vast Empire. But, before we get to that, I have a special guest who will, hopefully, bide or worries for the short-term future.”

Sinus motioned for someone. A woman wore mainly white robes, but with an identifiable crest of a golden bird on a green circle. She walked with poise and strength, something many who stood before the grouping of the continent’s leaders wouldn’t be able to. “Hello, I am Nenad, a Healer from the Church. My Lord and God, Subuntu, has asked me to speak to you all directly about the situation that transpired nearly a week ago. A New Age has dawned, one directly related to my religion. I ask everyone to spread my God’s words, all are welcome, and all will be taught.”

“That’s it?” Someone asked, a short woman, Dwarven.

“Yes.”

“Can you not speak more about what brought on the New Age?” Someone else asked, a Beastkin of feline descent.

“Of course.” Nenad continued, “Through the hard work of many members of my Church, as well as the advancements made by a special individual, my God deemed the knowledge gained a worthy achievement for a New Age.”

An elderly woman snorted; eyes turned to her, but she remained silent. “That’s it?” The Beastkin asked.

“Indeed. I ask everyone to press forward in these trying times and stay by trusted allies. My Churches doors are always open, please spread the word to your people.” Nenad bowed, turned, and left.

“Well, that was very useful.” The Beastkin leader said. “Veline, do you mind sharing what you know?”

“What I know?” Veline retorted.

“Don’t play coy, my contacts know about the large influx of Healers in your city. Not to mention you were the one to call upon the Coalition in the first place.”

Veline sighed and pushed against the table, sliding her chair against the cut dry grass. “Lesterwood claims no knowledge of the events that caused a New Age.” She said with a monotone cadence and sat before anyone could argue.

“Come now, Veline. If you know something, you must share.” Tobyn Salae spoke.

“I repeat; Lesterwood knows nothing of the New Age.”

“Fine, Lesterwood knows nothing, but that was not the question. What does Veline know?”

She stood and, in a mocking, tone said, “Veline wishes for the meeting to continue and not before midnight.”

The King leaned over and whispered something into his son’s ear before speaking, “Fine, it is obvious that you know something, but I will not press any further. I only ask that if the information you know is imperative for the survival of the continent, you share with us obediently.” The King waited for a response but got none. “Fine, let us continue to the main reason we are here: Vast Empire.”

“Yes, lets.” Sinus spoke, gathering the attention of the meeting. “As we all know by now, Esmel is not with us. The city is locked down by [Arbor] control after a failed conquest attempt by the Empire. Veline, the floor is yours as you are the responding member.”

Veline nodded with a bit of frustration, stood, and entered the center of the tables. “Esmel was attacked by Mallor Henbar and his familiar Buzluc.” Blue boxes appeared in every leader’s periphery. “I just sent the kill notification for Mallor, I trust you all believe me about Buzluc as I do not personally have his kill box.”

“Uh, excuse me.” A squealy voice said. A posh Gnome adjusted his glasses. “If my calculations are correct, and they always are, you are missing a substantial amount of experience. I calculate a level… Fifteen to nineteen is truly responsible for the kill.”

“You are correct, as always, Godphree.” Veline turned back to the meeting. “I did not retain the killing blow, nor did I do the most damage. One of my apprentices did.”

“A level fifteen to nineteen apprentice succeeded in killing Mallor Henbar?” King Salae asked. “I find that hard to believe.”

Veline sighed, “My apprentice is a Lost One.”

The meeting turned completely silent. “He will remain unnamed, but it is true. A new Lost One has been born and survived his first few tribulations of this world.”

“Surely you jest?” Someone said.

“Not another one.” Another said.

“Lies!” An angry woman shouted.

“I smell no deceit.” The Beastkin leader spoke.

“Everyone please.” King Tobyn said, gathering everyone’s attention. “I have it under good authority that a Lost One was born recently.”

“Really? Who’s authority?” Sinus asked politely.

“The Prisoner said that Vast Empire’s Goddess becomes aggressive when a new one comes to this world. I’ve sent my people to look for the Lost Lord, but they came back empty handed. Please, Veline, explain how you came into contact with another Lost Lord.”

“He arrived near Lesterwood, maybe a day’s journey away. But that doesn’t matter.” Veline reached down to her bag, removing a small spade. “This-“

“Hxut’s Spade!” A Dwarven woman gasped. “But how! It was lost!”

“Mallor Henbar had it. My guess was that he took it when your old Capital fell, but when he died, the Spade’s ownership turned to his killer.” Vel stepped forward, towards the Dwarves. “A gift from my apprentice to The Mountain.”

The Mountain’s delegate’s hands shook reaching out to the prized artifact. She gracefully accepted the priceless token, before saying, “But why? We’ve never even met the man, at least I don’t think so. Why would he give up ownership of such an item?”

“He does not need it. To be honest, the Spade is kind of overrated.”

“Overrated-“

“Indeed, a crazed man with an army of undead couldn’t take over a city using a Divine Artifact? Overrated I say.” Godphree the Gnome said.

“That brings up a good point- What did Henbar want from Esmel?” King Salae asked.

“Bones.” Veline shrugged, “He said he heard a rumor of Divine Bones being buried in Esmel. He was wrong.”

“That makes no sense. Why were you even there?”

“My apprentice was given a quest by Seetrin the Legendary Beast.”

“I can confirm that statement.” A lone middle-aged man said, giving no further indication of continuing.

“I see.” Tobyn said. “What happened to Esmel then? Why is it surrounded by roots?”

“The [Arbors] protected the walls from the undead army. Mallor was killed, and the undead died. I’m sure there is a massive pile of bones around the roots, if anyone wants to confirm.”

“No, I believe you. One final question: Why do you think The Empire is resurfacing. It has been many years of silence.”

“Lesterwood was attacked a week prior to us leaving for Esmel. It was Nix, the [Doppelganger] of the Empire. Both attacks individually mean nothing. But the timing is too close to be coincidence. I believe the Empire is rising, and fast.”

“I agree.” A voice hiding in the back said. A man with dark dead eyes stepped forward. “I am captain Juhd of Renloc. I oversaw the investigation of the cabin identified by Veline and her team. I, without any doubt, can say Vast Empire had roots in the Shallowkin Marshes and fought to protect their stronghold when we entered.”

“Did you find Avery Thornsmith?”

“Yes, she was dead, along with many others.”

Three rapid hollow thumps sounded from the wood grain tabletop. The rhythmic sound went on for some time, causing irritation in the nearby victims who had to listen. After a few dirty looks, Max stopped his impatient tapping and leaned back. He was stressed and he couldn’t figure out why. All he was doing was waiting for Celenia’s Herbalism class to end, but for some reason his heart was pounding away much like his fingers were doing moments ago. Emi tried to calm him, but unless she opened herself up to his negative thoughts, her passive emotions would do little to sway him. So, she did what she could, snuggling up tight in his lap.

Max’s mind kept turning back to the forest. It was cold, snowy, and dead. There was a section plagued by fungus and a lone [Druid] was stationed to protect it. Or rather, ambush anyone who came near. Why would the [Druid] not announce his presence and for us to leave? He asked himself, concluding that Ruden did not want to be known. If so, did he want us to walk into the fungus? Did he only let himself be known when he realized who we were? The whole situation was strange, and the faster he could talk with Dreamstem the better.

Maybe the raid was getting to him. With Clammy battling through hordes of goblins and an identity crisis, it was hard not to worry about her. She was with Bishop and many other powerful individuals, which was comforting but it only took one vision to make her defenseless. Still, Max trusted her to know her limits, especially with the amount of training she was putting herself through as of late. He had to hand it to her and Reep for that matter, both of them continued to train even when faced with personal hardships.

Max looked at his watery arm. His robes covered a significant length of the spell, but his fingers and palm were visible and transparent. We’ve all faced a lot in a short amount of time… He thought, my spell work has gotten better, as have my levels, but I’ve been skimping on physical training. To be completely honest, Max hated swordplay. At first, it was fun and exciting but as time went on, his progression slowed, and his muscles ached more and more. Could I get away with just not using a sword? Probably not, most fights end with a stab or slash…

A small leather-bound journal appeared in his hand along with a writing utensil. Making a workout schedule was oddly difficult. Finding the time between his classes and magic training was stretching an already tight agenda. But, if there was one thing Max was good at, that would be teleporting and using water. Removing the time, it took to move between places as well as time taken for showers gave him a few time slots. But it wasn’t enough, at least not as much as he wanted. Maybe I could remove spell training and only work on that at night in the infinite beach? That would remove sleep time, but I don’t really need it in there…

“Max? How was the tea party?” Celenia said prancing down the wooden stairs as if an autumn leaf had fallen down from its branch. She was beautiful, simplistically so.

“It was interesting. But we had to leave pretty quickly. A village was having monster troubles.” Max answered.

“Everything okay?”

“I’m not sure. I met a [Druid], Ruden was his name. He was laying in ambush… Can you take me to Dreamstem? I have some questions.”

“Ruden… I don’t recognize the name. Are you sure Dreamstem can help?”

“Ruden mentioned her by name, so hopefully.” Max said.

“Weird. Follow me.” Celenia turned back up the stairs, walking past the emptying classrooms and treading through the flow of students.

Dreamstem usually had private lessons scheduled for this time of day, but she had canceled this week. Celenia took the opportunity to ask Max out for dinner, something that was not uncommon for dates on Nava. She was excited for her time with Max as most of the time they spent together was either in class or with others. She did think it was odd her teacher canceled, something she had never done before but graciously accepted the free time.

Dreamstem’s office was small and packed, like a can of sardines. Maps made up the wallpaper and natural trophies filled up the shelves. Jars of roots, potted herbs, rare flowers, the office could be home to an [Apothecary] if it weren’t for all of the furniture being made of magically woven wood.

“Ah, Celenia, Max, Emi, what can I do for you? I’m rather busy…” The [Druid] said pushing her long dark hair past her pointed ear.

Max said, “I met Ruden-“

“Ruden? You met Ruden? Where?”

“In the forest out near the third outer village. I don’t know the name of it.”

“What was he doing? What were you doing?”

“I was responding to a shaking stone, and I investigated the nearby woods. Ruden was waiting in ambush…” Max’s voice trailed off as Dreamstem’s expression darkened.

“I understand. Is he alive?”

“Alive? Why wouldn’t he be? He may be a bit cold, but he explained his reasoning for his actions and said to confirm his story with you.” Max and Emi didn’t miss the [Druid]’s odd response.

“Oh, I see. What did you want to confirm then?”

“He said he was stationed to keep people away from the fungus. Is that true?”

“Every word, yes.” Dreamstem answered.

“Why is he ambushing people rather than letting his presence be known and telling them to leave?”

“Who would listen to him?”

“Everyone? He’s a [Druid], is he not? Do people not listen to tier three classes?” Max said.

“You didn’t.”

“No, I did. I might have been hesitant, but I let him go without any injury.”

“Exactly. Others would have reacted the same way. Ruden didn’t want to be hurt.”

“That makes lying in ambush, okay?” Max asked, not understanding her point. “The only reason he wasn’t hurt was because we conversed in the sky, away from the roots and trees. What would have happened if I continued on the ground? Would he have attacked me?”

“Would it have mattered? We both know you can handle yourself in a fight.” Dreamstem crossed her arms, adopting a position of defensive attitude.

“Handle my self in a fight? You do know how I lost my arm, right? In a battle against a tier three in which I had a tier three on my side. Who knows how long I would have lasted against a [Druid] IN A FOREST!”

“You could have just teleported away. You are good at that.”

Max scoffed, loudly. He was turning red with anger. “You are deflecting the issue. An ambush was waiting for me in a forest by a [Druid]. I was told about three other adventurers that were seen entering the forest before me, where are they? Did Ruden kill them? Did you? What’s really in that forest? Why are the monsters running away?”

His words flowed out as if a dam had ruptured. His stressed thoughts were communicated unfiltered and unbridled. Dreamstem’s odd attitude struck a chord with Max, solidifying his cynical ideas and formulating dark thoughts about his friend’s master. But as Celenia’s face twisted with discuss, he knew he went too far.

“Sorr-“

Celenia interrupted him, tears forming in her eyes and anger on her brow. She pushed past Max, running out of the small office. Emi began to run after her, leaving her bond to deal with the elder Elf.

“Sorry,” Max retried. “I went to far. I’ve had some bad experiences with ambushes…”

Dreamstem let out a long pent-up sigh. “Ruden is… Different. I don’t know how much you know about the Order, but us [Druids] normally achieve our classes through master-apprentice. Ruden did not. He was raised in a forest by stags. He often is ignorant of societal ways.”

“I just don’t get it. Why set an ambush? And why allow that habit? He or someone else may have been hurt, why would your Order allow such action?”

“Simply put? He is the best at what he does. Fungus is a specialty of his. As for the ambush… I’m not sure, and I will discuss future blockades with him. Truth be told we all have been busy the last week. I was finishing a preliminary test, but you and Celenia came in.”

“You think you have a solution?” Max asked.

“Yes and no. Hopefully it will illuminate a solution.”

“I see. Well, I’ll leave you alone. Sorry for accusing you and everything. I try not to let my dark thoughts boil over like that.”

“I understand. Good luck on smoothing things over with Celenia, I know she was looking forward to your date.”