Chapter 1: Lancing

The sun shone a radiant brilliance above the metropolis of Rendhall beneath it. Compared to the days of the past when the city was grounded and only showed its fledgling wings, it now soared through the sky as the majestic Capital of the Kingdom of Hearth. Compared to only ten years ago, the busy was many times busier. At the gates that separated the true Capital's from the surrounding fields of golden wheat and the towns thereafter, a constant flux of people moved between what seemed like two very different worlds.

Inside the town, shops of beautiful design lined the main road and its subordinate streets. The city's stores could tempt anyone with its variety of businesses: adventurers bearing shabby equipment looked with envy at the arranged armaments that adorned the smithery, common women turned green at the sight of large jewels that would look magnificent atop their fingers, and even children eyed stores lined with books and scrolls that could change their fate. Yet after resisting the urge to spend a coin or two on luxury, another shop would catch their gaze, stuttering their heartbeat once more in desire. Shops on each side of the wide main streets continued without end and the streets connected from both sides boasted stores of high quality as well. To a merchant, the Capital was paradise.

After traveling atop the neatly cemented main road, the pathway would open up even wider, revealing a large square half the size of one of the city's residential districts. Benches lay next to rectangular ponds. Beneath the surface of the road, passages of water connect to the main channel that travels to the District of Beauty, nicknamed "The Garden." Trees grew from the soil which surrounded these ponds of water, scattering pink leaves across the ground whenever spring or fall struck the town. Sculptures, artifact exhibits, and other tourist attractions decorated the square, creating a marvelous scene of beauty worthy of the Capital. Yet, the beauty of this area could not compare to the castle above the city, whose construction would soon be complete. This monstrous building resembled more of a fort than a castle, yet its striking appearance rendered itself unforgettable. It could hardly be believed that a small lordly hall had inhabited this exact location merely 10 years previous. Continuous building and fortifying occurred during the last decade, with the castle only growing stronger by the day.

From its base to its pillars, the castle was constructed with expert masonry of the modern times, creating the fantastic feat that would be given the name, the Heart of Hearth. Large banners were strewn from the highest point of the structure, each dyed in purple and outlined with gold. The flags strutting below each window of the castle carried the same design as its fellow banners, which were decorated in the center with a crimson gem, whose facets were only possible by the hand of a master gem cutter. Mixing the colors of purple, gold, and red would seem much too gaudy in any other circumstance, but the beauty of the design was splendid enough to ignore such a problem. Between the two largest banners stood the castle door, whose defensive power could withhold an army of experts and survive countless barrages of the most modern siege equipment. Of course, the castle had other entrances susceptible to invasion, but the colossal door was more of a symbol. Fighting the Kingdom of Hearth would be an insurmountable challenge.

When the sun reached its highest point in the sky, the resounding bells, harbored in the church, rang throughout the city. Regardless of the distance from the Church of Lady Astra, the sound played at a constant volume, even stirring the wilderness that lay beyond the city's reach. At this signal, countless people in the city immediately rushed to the square before the Castletown in hopes of a good standing position. Business owners surprisingly closed their shops during the prime of the day, abandoning their strongholds where they battled in duels of haggling brought about by each customer. Those already traveling up the main road hastened their steps to not fall behind others who seemed to ravage like beasts to quicken their pace. As for those stuck beyond the gate of the Capital, guards soon closed the entrance, blocking their advancement to where the king would soon begin speaking. Riots emerged at each entrance to the city, yet we're immediately quelled with the splattering of blood onto the pavement. Bodies were horrible decorations to the noble city, so they were disposed of faster than it took for them to fall to the ground.

The ringing of the bells continued for half an hour before the clangs of metal finally calmed to a whisper. With the quieting of the bell, the crowd of a hundred thousand spread throughout the city soon responded in kind. Speaking and interrupting the King at such an event would bring about a quick beheading, regardless of the distance between him and the nuisance. Unfortunately, it was a common sight at events such as these, as foreign crowds or local deviants often did not show respect to the King. But whether it was the clear, blue sky or the genial weather, no ruffians stood out on this gracious day.

Before much longer, the time every resident and tourist waited for had arrived. Golden, decorated trumpets burst into the royal tune which flooded the entire city with a grand song. As the sound reached the far corners of Rendhall, it entered the ears of many. To the common folk, just the sounds from the trumpets increased their heartbeats. The faint presence of magic that accompanied the muse forced each of them to kneel. While normal soldiers stood feigning immunity, the experts scattered here or there felt no urge to bend the knee from a simple song, but all of them did so out of respect.

Above the tall gates of the castle town, a platform protruded from the front of the castle beyond. The wide doors connecting this podium to the castle opened, revealing the most powerful man in Hearth. His very appearance could steal the heart of any woman and could intimidate the mightiest of men. The features on his face resembled a painting. His bore a chiseled jaw strong enough to compare to stone, a nose of sword-like straightness, and a hooded brow that guarded the crimson eyes which lay beneath. Despite his divine appearance, his most eye-catching feature was not his holden, short hair but the pair of rubies that adorned the high cheekbones on his face. As the sun shone upon these pair of gems, sparkles spread in the vicinity, magnifying the air of magnificence surrounding the King one step further.

In reality, these rubies were not gems, but rather faceted scales that resembled the most beautiful of gemstones. Much like the scales born upon a dragon, these rigid plates graced every human as far as history recorded. Every human differs in size and location, but the most important aspect lies in its purity. Common sense dictates that the more the scales resembled crystals, the more gifted the individual would be. Through countless generations, this became fact, with only a few exceptions. Contrary to the rubies on the King's face, the people below were all of lesser quality. Some had scales on their arms or hands, while those on others were hidden beneath their clothing. Every combination of location, color, and purity was present on the population of a hundred thousand below.

As dauntless as ever, King Balkin walked out of the castle. Each step forward on the platform resounded to the crowd below, sending quakes from the castle to the town. After reaching his destination at the edge, he looked down at the numerous subjects below him and started to speak.

The King began with only two simple words, "My people!"

Some, in their arrogance, still stood up until this moment. Regardless of the power of the individual, as they heard the voice of the King, an irresistible force pushed them to the ground in a kowtow. Scenes like this could be seen across the city, as his voice stretched into every building and through every wall of Rendhall. It was not the strength of his timbre that pushed them to the ground, but rather the aura of majesty it held which only a King could exhibit. However, in the eyes of a true expert, the strength of the King of Hearth was not at the level of a mere King, but rivaled that of an emperor! King Crusius Balkin, the first of his name, was a true contender for the Imperial Throne.

He continued, "Those who have gathered here today at my humble Captial, from the furthest corners of our glorious kingdom, will soon witness history. This day will preside as an important landmark that historians will theorize as to the true turning point of the modern era. They will first mention, that on this day, the fourth of the month of Clovers in the year 1046, the Heart of Hearth reached the completion of its construction."

When the King finished speaking his first passage and followed with a pause, the crowd of the city beneath him rang in applause. Words of merriment entwined with claps flew forth, as did various other compliments towards the King. These people, whether they be commoners of the fields or knights of the Kingdom, expressed deep respect and love for the King and his rule. If the King were to end his speech here, this much alone would be cause for celebration in every household of Hearth.

However, not everyone was as happy as those on the streets below. A sign rang out from the castle that overlooked the city.

"Father always was long-winded."

A voice of dissent emerged among a group of four individuals that stood in front of one of the windows in the castle. The youth who spoke was leaning on the stone railing, a bored expression adorning his face. The wind running along the castle walls brushed past his medium-length, black hair, rustling it as he observed the ceremony inattentively. Lancing's deep, red eyes looked at his father as he compared the differences between the two of them. Both of them held an obvious crimson tint in their eyes, but that was close to the end of the list of similarities. His face still retained the manly qualities his father was known for, but he did not have the chiseled jaw or cheekbones the patriarch of his family boasted. Despite this, Lancing was by no means meager in appearance so his self-confidence did not suffer. Rather, something completely different concerned him.

While the gems that sat below his father's eyes were praised as an incredible gift, Lancing's scales remained only that - scales. No hint of crystallization could be seen inside the rugged scales that held a black appearance, devoid of any color. The symmetrical scales still lay below his eyes, the exact position as his fathers, but the difference between the two was too notable.

All of a sudden, Lancing felt a hard fist land on his shoulder. He couldn't resist crying out in a hushed voice as the pain quickly faded.

"Like you're one to talk. Still, don't speak ill of Father. To us, he may be 'just our dad', but to the people of the kingdom, he is still the 'almighty King of Hearth.' Any dissent is treason, even from the King's own children."

The source of Lancing's shoulder pain was the eldest daughter of King Balkin, Apolla Rose Balkin. Named after the daughter of the Goddess of Beauty, Lady Astra, Apolla bore an attractive appearance to match up to the Goddess' expectations. She was gifted in looks like her father, with golden-blonde hair and high cheekbones to further instill her beauty. Her gems also lay below her eyes, a familial trait, but were instead colored with a sky blue hue that matched her eyes. The near-transparent sapphires did not bear the same purity as her father but held were of quality worthy to succeed him. While her potential wasn't quite at the level of Crusius, numerous eyes in the kingdom and beyond laid upon her, as she would soon be a powerhouse that could support a nation.

Lancing turned his eyes from his now bruised shoulder to meet those of his sibling as he spoke once more. "Sister dearest, you've joined enough political conferences with him to understand how Father does business. He's more of a master with words than he is with spells. Look at them, intoxicated with joy. I doubt they'll even blink an eye when their Monarch mentions a 'lucky' few might be conscripted for the upcoming war."

At the cynicism dripping from her brother's tongue, Apolla rolled her eyes and turned back to the crowd below, toward the people she would one day lead. Once the words left Lancing's mouth, the shuffling of heavy armor sounded out from behind his back. As he craned his neck to look at the commotion, the two royal soldiers that stood guard over the siblings wore expressions of shock. The one closest to the prince stammered, "Y-Your Royal Highness, your mention of war much be in jest. The Kingdom is prospering and only obtained two new provinces recently that the King must merge into his territory. What good would a war bring?"

Almost on cue, King Balkin resumed his speech, cutting off the resounding of applause from below. "These truly are great times. Between our fortified walls lie a city richer than any other in the empire, yet younger than many of your children. Our growth has been a pleasant surprise to our allies but also a stroke of despair to our enemies. Yet, as the Kingdom of Hearth burns with a flame to warm its people, it also desires to expand in an inferno to scathe its foes. How many times must our people be flayed and our territories invaded before the prestige we have built regresses to rust? How many brothers lay next to an empty grave their father has yet to fill? What are the fates of our mothers and daughters who disappeared in the latest pillaging at the hands of the deviant Haguls?"

Tangible emotion trickled from the King's tongue, inciting rage and injustice onto the people below. The revelry in the air only moments ago converted to wrath and ire! Most of those who knelt below were affected by the ongoing onslaught from the Kingdom of Hagul. Their emperor had turned a blind eye to their bloodshed, but the King would not stand idle against this offending army.

"Their relentless violence will one day destroy this nation of peace if left to their own devices. Today, the Kingdom of Hearth declares war against the Haguls. I, King Crusius, first of my name and founder of this nation, vow to end the insolence of the Hagul people and erase their name from the annals of history, with a shield in one hand and the sword of righteousness in the other!"

Compared to the revelry following the previous announcement, the current cheers of delight and roars of valor handily outshone. The entire city bellowed with intensity and fervor. People of all origins stood at this moment, raising arms to the air and chanting along with their brethren. Neither the toddlers attached to the bosom of their mother nor the old, whose hands shook atop their canes, could resist the enticing atmosphere.

Lancing rolled his eyes at the furor beneath him. "And just as predicted, the prey fell for the bait. However, I do have to admit that Father has quite the silver-tongue. Sister, would it be possible for us to learn this ability of his? I haven't yet come across this spell in my search through the treasury."

"You and I both know Father has no need for spells when it comes to eloquence," Apolla responded. "It's a natural gift of his, along with what seems like hundreds of others we both know and don't know of. Besides, this war will lead to good for both the Kingdom and its people. They all know this. That is why we hear the sound of cheering rather than a pounding on our gates. Why be so cynical when Father may even gift you with the newfound territory once the war is over?"

"As if a title with the weight of a kingdom would fall in the hands of a cripple." Lancing tried to hide the anger upon his face, but his brows still slightly furrowed at his own words.

Even a commoner, with as many resources he has used, would be able to control the world's natural forces enough to ignite a flame or fill a pail with water. But to Lancing's chagrin, he has yet to be able to move even a single particle of the earth to his will. To exasperate him even further, his sensitivity towards the forces remains his innate gift. He could almost count each of the particles in a gust of wind that brushes against his cheek or track the falling of a raindrop as it plummets towards the ground. His will remains the problem.

It is taught that every human, since the dawn of man, has sought the power of heaven itself. From razing hell itself from the depth of the earth to the freezing of water in the air, mankind's desire to command the world has overshadowed even its desire to advance the sciences. To further arouse mankind to action, they understood they are not the only ones in this universe and whatever lies beyond. Other races inhabit worlds beyond the small Earth that the Kingdom of Hearth has based itself on. Sirens swim the deep waters of an oceanic world without land and fire giants wander the ever-present infernos of another. Creatures, both those with a conscious and without, became rarely isolated in a single world once the advent of interplanetary travel came to be. The space beyond Earth was as unpredictable as the plans of the Gods themselves.

For humans, defending themselves was a major concern when faced with other races who had natural power, whether it be their size and muscle or their control over nature. Thus, humans began along the endless, winding road of cultivation. Although methods of advancement varied between individuals, families and clans would establish a common ground and create a specialized cultivation technique. This was the standard course of progression in a world that relied on martial talent for advancement. No king held power weaker than a baron, and no baron didn't hold the power to remove any common human from their sight. The militaristic power of a single individual could sway a continent towards the future of a united empire, or bring about a calamity that would revert the land once more to the dark ages.

Basic techniques for humans all centered around growing the will of the expert. Consciousness centered in the brain made functional by its countless intricacies, but the concept of will remained something entirely different, despite the overlapping similarities. While the brain signals for the body to move, the will of man gives the intent. As will grows more and more powerful, its reach expands beyond the confines of the main body, able to affect the natural forces of the world to initiate the phenomenon described as 'magic.'

Sympathy arose on Apolla's face after hearing her brother's words. Of course, she knew that Lancing's future potential would at most cap at a barony, even with his father's influence. Just a few careless words from her opened up a deep scar of her brother's that would never heal. She only let out a sigh in response, without refuting his words.

"Sorry, Lance. I'll have to cut our talk short now that Father has finished. I'll have to make up for the last couple of hours as business never stops, even for the King."

At these final words, Apolla spread her arms wide, wrapping Lancing between them. She let out an expression of surprise and then a chuckle as her face pressed against his neck. She always forgot that her brother was taller than her. As he reciprocated the display of affection, the melancholy on Lancing's face dispersed as a contented smile replaced it.

"Love you, sis."

"Love you too, brother."

After the two separated, Lancing saw Apolla off as she left the study with the two guards, leaving him alone to his thoughts. He took one more glance at the spot where his father gave his declaration and thought back to the hug just a few beats too long and with arms slightly too strong. Shaking his head, he then grabbed a book off the shelf to take his mind away from his thoughts, disappearing into another world.