Chapter 1: The People You Can Meet in a Small Town.

Let us take several steps back for a moment.

Thane wasn’t always called a hero, nor did he ever think of himself as one. The first time I saw Thane was a few minutes after he was born, a red faced infant in his mothers arms. She asked if I wanted to hold him, and I couldn’t do anything but accept. This made me the second person to ever hold him, a fact that I reminded his father of as much as possible during my short visit.

Was this what the end of a journey was supposed to be like? A peaceful life with a happy family? I would have loved to have stayed, taken my role as the boy’s godmother, but my personal journey was far from over. I left soon after, and the next time I saw Thane he was a grown man on his own journey. Not being able to support the young boy during the tragedies in that small town is something I will regret forever.

I do know a little bit of what his life was like as he grew up. I knew he had friends. Those that followed his father on his journey had children of their own and they became inseparable. There was Kisha, a silver haired Tamlin who never met her mysterious Fey father, and the twins Mahs and Sarah, who never knew their mother who died in childbirth.

When the children were young, a plague struck the village. It was quickly contained but Thane’s and Kisha’s mothers were two of the first victims, and Thane's father was gone soon after. Castor, the father of the twins, and Maria, a close friend of Thane’s mother, were soon looking out for four children, and they raised them to the best of their ability.

Castor taught them to fight and taught them magic. He was well versed in all forms of combat and strategy and did his best to prepare them to handle anything the future could throw at them. Thane soon became a proficient hunter and was able to support himself and Kisha.

Maria taught them the ways of the world, mathematics, history, politics. She was well versed in scholarly matters as well as the ways of merchants and nobles and taught them everything she could.

The children didn’t think much of this education, and never questioned the background of the two who taught them. Any outsider, however, would find it extremely unusual. After all, what kind of small village could produce four children that were both highly trained in combat and highly educated?

It was a wonder that nobody discovered these gems in the rough for so long. It was only a matter of time before they would be dragged into the larger world.

Thane’s story would truly begin at that time.

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Outskirts of Omeric Village

Year 299 E.K.

?? Years before The End

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Thane

Take a deep breath, steady myself, now open my eyes and keep my weapon at the ready. After his usual preparation, Thane soundlessly draws back the bowstring and aims at the deer in front of him. He was very lucky this time, it took only around an hour to track and find his prey. Suddenly the deer’s head snaps up to the sound of scraping and digging. Thane follows the glance of the deer to the ground and sees a small bear-like creature frantically digging at the base of a tree. He takes a close look at the root bear, back at the deer, and back to the bear again.

A deer of this size doesn't come around often, it could keep us fed for weeks, but…a root bear pelt in good condition is worth a few gold coins...gold!

His thoughts shift between the two animals, firing at one will startle the other and cause it to flee deeper into the woods. Was it worth the risk of not having complete meals for a few days in order to get some extra money the next time the merchants pass through town? The internal debate couldn’t continue long and he let the arrow fly. It was a perfect shot under the neck of one of the animals, and just as predicted, the other one sprinted away in fear and soon couldn’t be seen through the trees.

“Let's hope the rabbit traps have something in them, root bear meat is foul”. While it was true that the pelt is abnormally soft and thick, the meat inside tastes like a chewy slug dipped in lard. Thane shuddered as two memories surfaced. The first of when he tried root bear meat for the first time, and the second was the embarrassing story of why he knows what a slug tastes like.

After verifying the animal is dead, he sets down his pack and begins to prepare for the trip home. A quartet of wooden poles are pulled free of the pack, and are placed in pairs end to end before Thane begins a short chant. Three quick syllables is all that it takes for a glowing aura to form around his wrists. He follows the three steps of casting magic: incorporation, absorption, emission. A simple first circle spell like this takes only a second to complete. The channeled magic sinks into the poles and they began to fuse into each other changing the 4 short poles into 2 longer ones. He can’t help but be pleased with himself and the results. This was a technique Thane invented shortly after learning mending magic. He realized if something was too big or awkward to carry with him on a hunt, all he had to do is break it in half and use mending magic to put it back together. It’s not the most efficient use of magical energy to be sure, but it’s not like I need to save it for anything else.

Thane takes out a square of leather with a few loops on the corners and runs the now long poles through the loops, assembling the travois. The prize gets placed on the leather square and he grabs the end of the poles opposite the bear and starts to drag it behind him. Time to check the traps and head home. The usual merchant caravan should stop by in a month and I will be able to make quite a bit of profit. After several minutes of dragging his prey, the village is almost in sight. He takes another look over his shoulder admiring the kill one more time. “Hehe, perfect shot to the throat, Mersine will be pleased to see this.”

His self appreciation was interrupted by a girl's voice “Oh? And why exactly are you seeking to please that salacious Elf?”

“Salacious? Are you picking up some new words to insult her with again, Kisha?” He looks over to the fallen tree where Kisha usually practices magic. She is there as usual, and it looks like she is finishing coating her wooden shield with...something? What the hell is that anyway? Some sort of ground bark mixed with dirt? “She gets under your skin a lot for someone you only see every few months.” Kisha stood up and brushed the dirt off of her clothes and flicked debris out of her hair, which is easily her most prominent trait. Not that it was excessively long or full it was actually a typical shoulder length cut.

It was just silver in color. Not grey like an elderly woman, but silver. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too abnormal for someone of advanced age, but Kisha would be having her 16th birthday soon.

It was accepted that it was a magical mutation. Her mother was a bit of a sorceress after all, and using magic while pregnant sometimes had odd effects on unborn children. Bleached or odd colored hair, strange eyes resembling that of an animal, Mersine even told them a story about an elf born with horns. Of course, “magical mutation” was sometimes used as a convenient lie when faced with someone who had a dark or embarrassing inhuman parent. This happened to be the truth for Kisha.

Thane had never met her father, nor had anyone else but her mother. She told us that the father of her child was some sort of Fae creature, but was never more specific than that. One time, after a particularly nasty argument, Sarah called her a boggart’s bastard. Sarah's brother and I had to pull them apart by force before someone got killed.

She ignored the quip and walked towards Thane, taking a look at what he was dragging behind him.

“You said you were getting meat, I’m not eating that.”

“This is for fur, I wouldn’t feed this to feral dogs. If you still want meat help me check the traps. Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch a rabbit or something.”

“Right, but we’re feeding four remember? It had better be a big rabbit or you’re the one going to buy the meat from Davik.”

“Do we really need meat?”

“No, but it is what you promised.”

Thane grumbled under his breath. Even if he would have caught that deer it would take a few days for the blood to drain and the muscles to relax for the meat to be prepared so today was the last chance. He almost regretted passing up that deer for the valuable pelt he was currently dragging behind him.

Almost.

The two start heading back to the town together, and pause when they hear the sound of someone walking, or rather stumbling, through the trees and underbrush. When they hear the cursing of the man heading their direction they immediately know who it is. The youth is almost a year older than Thane and is Sarah’s twin brother. Thane shook his head holding back a sigh, “That sounds like Mahs”.

“Yep.”

“You think he would know how to find the trails by now.”

Kisha laughed. “He’s doing his best, but that pretty boy lacks my ties to nature and your training as a hunter. ...Wait, what is he doing here? He wouldn’t do anything to dirty his clothes unless it was important.”

When Mahs came into view he seemed relieved, “Kisha, I found you, and thank The Three you’re here as well Thane. There is trouble. Armed men are in the town, over a dozen. They are demanding we hand over supplies and all the horses we have.”

“Thugs? Where is your father and teacher? I can’t imagine them being pushed around by a dozen bandits.”

“They left at dawn before you went hunting. It’s just us. My sister is keeping an eye on them.”

Kisha strapped her shield firmly on her arm, “Let's go then, if Castor isn’t there, we will have to handle it. He trained us for situations like this.” She smiled at Thane, “I was saving this new shield trick I set up as a surprise for our next sparring session, but I suppose I could use it on a few thugs.”

Thane drops the skid carrying the root bear and takes count of his weapons. One bow, half a dozen arrows, a hunting spear, a curved short sword and dagger for clearing brush and finishing a kill. Kisha was doing some sort of magic training and applying a weird substance to her shield but luckily she brought her sword with her as well. Mahs, well, Mahs was never much of a fighter, but his magic is useful and it looks like he grabbed his smallsword before he came.

Thane hesitates for a moment. “Are you really up for this? If we attack them it will be real combat, not training. It could be more than a bruise and a scolding if you mess up.” He can’t help but be concerned for them. I am confident in my skills, and Sarah can definitely take care of herself, but these two…

“Stop worrying, we can handle ourselves.” Kisha replied, but her tone made me think she was still treating this like some sort of game. “It's not like we have a choice in the matter however. If those bandits wind up taking the towns supplies and horses, we won't survive the coming winter.”

“You’re right, just when the fight starts, IF the fight starts, be careful.”

The three reach the edge of town, staying out of sight. Most of the bandits are gathered in the center of town. A few of the townspeople have capitulated and are leading in the few horses the town has and bringing in food. One of the bandits seems to be arguing with the town butcher.

Something is different with these bandits. They aren’t the unwashed thugs I was expecting. Rather than piecemeal or scavenged armor, most of them are wearing some sort of lamellar or scaled armor and seem to have decent weapons. Not that he has any real experience with bandits to compare them to, but from some of the stories he heard he was expecting a more ragtag, unwashed group.

Thane looks around until he finds Sara, she is crouched on the roof of one of the houses waiting for him to take notice. Once they make eye contact she makes a few quick hand gestures, a bit of code we were taught by Castor. “I’ll follow you” she signs, indicating that she will jump in once the first move is made. Thane hands his bow and arrows over to Mahs, trying to at least keep him out of danger and away from the middle of the fighting. “Once I run in, shoot until you are out of arrows, Kisha go around the building to the left and attack them once they turn towards me. I will-”

Kisha begins to run around to flank the invaders and he pauses as he notices that the argument in the middle of town is increasing in volume. Davik, the butcher, is shouting at who appears to be the leader of the thugs and is waving a meat cleaver. “Ready the bow Mahs, we have to go now before he…” Too late.

Davik takes a swing at the thug who sidesteps the cooking utensil with a smirk before taking a powerful horizontal swing with his battleaxe. The axe sinks deep into the butcher’s exposed stomach causing him to almost fold in half before falling to the ground with the axe buried inside his gut.

Thane gritted his teeth in anger. Davik was a good friend even if he was a generation older than him. Whatever hesitation Thane had before for starting this fight was completely gone. He wanted to see that man pay.

“Mahs, I’m using it.”

“Thane...father said to never use that technique again, especially when you’re angry, you don’t know if you can..”

“Draw the bow, I’m going now.”

Thane opens the channels to bring in mana for a spell, or what should have been a spell. Instead he skips a few steps and lets the mass of energy penetrate every centimeter of his body and brain, until they fuse together. His muscles, bones, and brain all get charged with energy, but this time it feels wrong. It almost feels like the aether itself wants to fight, like his anger is warping it, or it is warping his anger.

He charges the men with a hunting spear in his right hand and short sword in the left. His mind and reflexes are running at a higher rate than my body as it feels like moving in slow motion, like running through water, even though an outside observer would see him as if he were running faster than a human should be able to manage.. There are five men between myself and the man who cut down Davik.

What is this anger?

Mahs’ arrow flew past Thane but to Thane’s heightened senses it looked like it was tossed at the same speed as a slow underhand lob. It sinks into the thigh of the first man, who begins to topple over. The other four and the killer are turning towards them.

Kill him!

Without losing a step Thane’s spear finds the neck of the second man and the fist holding the shortsword smashes into the face of the third.

Good, can’t lose momentum when the target is right there!

The next one is lightly armored and holding a bow, no need to aim for a gap in the armor this time. With this strength, a layer of leather isn’t going to stop my blade. A quick forceful sab into his stomach takes him down and Thane sweeps the legs of the last man out from under him. With his momentum gone, Thane crouches and looks towards the man who killed Davik. He still hasn’t managed to free his axe as he looks over to Thane with wide eyes..

Now he’ll pay.

Thane lunges at the man at full speed, aiming the spear at his neck. The thrust is almost too fast to see and pierces...nothing. The man flung his head to the side barely escaping death, and the spear leaves a large gash along his jawline, scraping against the bone and sending a small spray of blood into the air. Not expecting the dodge, Thane found himself in a bad position. It didn’t matter how fast he could move if he was off balance. The bandit made a desperate move, grabbing the haft of the spear as Thane tried to pull it back and regain his stance. Both of them pulled, drawing closer to each other and the older man tipped his head forward, smashing his forehead into the bridge of Thane’s nose.

Thane fell backwards and began to lose control of the mass of energy that he had taken into his body. He was now laying on the ground unarmed, his spear was in the hands of Davik’s killer, but still pointed away from him. His short sword was half buried into the side of the bandit. While the two were pulled together Thane has stabbed it into the armor gap at the armpit.

“The hells...did you...?”

The bandit gave off one last gasp before toppling over, but Thane couldn’t hear him anymore. With the sudden shock of getting headbutted and knocked on his rear, he lost control of the energy in his body. The magic that he took in was now escaping violently. Thane was leaking blood from his nose and mouth and right before he blacked out he could feel the uncontrolled energy open a dozen small tears all over his body as it escaped.

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The Observer

Well, that idiot butcher tried to act tough and got himself killed, but at least it got rid of the boy’s hesitation. The observer watched as the four teenagers attacked the ruffians that were attempting to rob the town. The technique the boy used was far more complicated that he knew, but somehow came naturally to him. It was a method of mana manipulation that was catalogued as one of the five forbidden magics, one that mages were forbidden to pursue. Until a few decades ago, there had not been a single person who had survived its use. There was another, more complicated reason it was forbidden that the observer didn’t completely comprehend. Right now the technique simply enhanced the boys skills to the same level some high end enchantment spells would. A top tier magical warrior could easily match or exceed the boy’s speed and reflexes. But still, this was an impressive feat for someone who had barely scratched the surface of the third circle.

The observer watched, counting the seconds before the magical energy tore its way out of the boy as it always would. If someone else was watching, they might think that the boy was reckless or suicidal, but the truth was quite simple. He trusts Sarah far too much.

The observer smiled as the blonde girl Sara leapt from the roof of the smokehouse next to the butcher's work area. With a short blade in each hand she landed behind two of the invaders. One downward strike between the neck and shoulder blade, one thrust into the heart of a lightly armored foe. She crept up behind a third and covered his mouth, pulling up his chin before finishing him with a horizontal slash across the neck.

“That’s my girl. Ruthless just like I taught you.” The boy Thane wasn't ruthless enough, but wasn’t completely helpless. Out of the 5 men, he only used a killing strike on two, and completely non lethal strikes on two more. The fifth one would die from his stomach wound if he wasn’t treated. “He has always been focused on winning, far more focused on winning than killing. He will need to learn that some people don’t accept defeat until they are dead.”

At least he can kill. The other two are soft. Castor’s son is firing arrows from a distance. More to cover his friends or distract than to kill. Even when he uses magic to disable someone charging at Kisha, it is a large gust of wind that knocks the man off his feet into a tree.

Kisha Is fighting as expected. Using her sword to parry the attacks of the mercenaries while smashing them with her shield. Someone needs to tell her that she should be doing the opposite. What is surprising is that she actually seems to be enjoying this. She has a wide grin on her face as she leads the men to the treeline. Her selection of weapons is expanded in a second, adding root and branch to sword and shield. Her smile turns into a laugh as she widens the distance giving her time to chant her magic. Her pursuers find themselves bludgeoned unconscious by tree branches or wrapped up in roots and vines. A single man with an axe cuts through the obstacles and charges her with an overhead swing. She stops chanting and catches the axe with her shield, her smile never fading. She gives the man a coquettish wink before her shield erupts into a hundred tiny roots and vines. Each one is small individually, but having so many at once the man soon looks like he is wrapped in a wooden cocoon.

The observer can’t help but smile as they notice what is coming. Kisha is unable to free her shield from the roots and detaches it from her arm. She is still so pleased with herself after taking out so many of the invaders that she doesn’t see that one freed himself and is rushing her. She is blindsided and tackled, dropping her sword and soon is pinned underneath the man who is reaching for a knife in his boot. What he is saying can’t be heard, but the disgusting look on the man's face makes it easy to guess. He looks down her body and the momentary distraction is all Kisha needs.

“Tch, looks like these ruffians aren’t very smart either. Disable her or cripple her first, then have your way with her. I was looking forward to the show with that hussy too.” The observer watched as Kisha barely got ahold of her sword and brought it up to the man’s neck. It was a sloppy swing without a lot of power, but it doesn’t need to be a skillful strike with a sharp blade against such a soft target. Kisha let out a cry of shock and disgust as the man fell limply on top of her.

Maybe Mahs will entertain me, the observer thought and looked back to where the boy was. He was on his last arrow with two men charging him. The arrow sank into the groin of the first man causing him to crumple into the ground. As Mahs fumbled in an empty quiver the second man closed the gap and swung his sword down on the boy’s defenseless head. To the shock of both the observer and the attacker, the sword passed through Mahs’ body and bounced harmlessly off a rock. Mahs grabbed the bottom of the bow with both hands and stepped to the right before giving a full force swing aimed about a meter off target of the stunned man. Or at least that’s how it appeared. The bow collided with the man's face hard enough to send the man spinning to the ground and cracking the bow.

“How the...when? Image displacement is impossible without three circles. How did that idiot manage to become a third circle mage?” The image flickered and disappeared as Mahs pummeled the man on the ground until the man lost consciousness and stopped struggling. The fight was over, but he broke the bow in the process. The observer shook their head, “The idiot breaks a perfectly good bow instead of using the sword at his side.”

Too soft. These ruffians came ready to kill, so you should be prepared to kill them. If there wasn’t such a gap in training, then Mahs and Kisha would be dead right now. It’s rather disappointing that they aren’t.

Out of the 20 men who attacked the town, 19 are now dead or disabled. The last one is running at a full sprint on a trail leading into the forest. The observer started chasing the straggler down only to see Castor running up the trail from the other direction. The two men stopped when they met each other.

The ruffian began to stammer “I...um...I am...wait. I know you… Castor! You’re alive? I…” when the man saw Castors facial expression he turned pale and began to run away into the forest as fast as he could, ignoring trails and stumbling over bush and branch. Castor simply raised his arm and pointed two fingers at the running man. A blue magic circle formed around his wrist, half a second later another formed 3 centimeters further up his arm. This process repeated 3 more times and a bright flash of magical energy tore through the forest. A 5 centimeter diameter circle punched its way through trees, rocks, and the chest of the man attempting to flee.

The observer walked up to Castor, greeting him with a smile. “I don’t see why you claim to be so bad at magic, you can cast a fifth circle spell without a focus or even an incantation.”

“Maybe I’m still comparing myself to the rest of our old team. Or even my sister in law, did you ever meet her? ”

The observer’s smile disappeared in an instant, “No, and I never want to. I know the title Attica gave her.”

“So how are the children?”

“They are fine, all alive. This was the last one, they managed to take out nineteen by themselves.” It takes a few short moments to relay everything that happened in the fight.

“You didn’t interfere?”

“Of course not, I was curious to see what the children could do.” The observer didn’t mention that they were hoping that Kisha or Mahs would die, or perhaps both.

“Hmm...why did they come here? They only requested supplies and horses, no valuables.”

“They didn’t come here on purpose, they were being chased. By an old friend of yours no less. Nearly a hundred men, mercenaries and the Baron’s soldiers led by Marcus of house Grendan.”

“Shit.” Castor looked up at the sky, “So I guess this life is over then? No more hiding.”

The observer barely suppressed a smile, “No more hiding.”