⌘ Chapter 2.

In the ancient Empire, there were four ruling styles.

The Duruhani Style of Earth.

The Wadhani Style of Water.

The Enthanahi Style of Wind.

The Arahani Style of Fire.

Named after the four ancient arch mages who ruled the world in the age of legends as a small oligarchic dominion, the four styles were passed down to the direct blood successors of these ancient arch mages.

The lines are believed to have died out with the fall of the Sirionean Empire, though bits and pieces of the styles have since been recovered.

The four ruling styles were known to each have their own book of sigils, practices, techniques, tips and tricks and martial arts. An ancient book of secrets for each of the elements, if you will. It is the lamentation of every great scholar and magus, that these great works have been lost to time. I often find myself wondering just how powerful the ancients truly were.

An important scholarly note: It was usual for individuals born under one of the four ruling styles to also practice the other styles. After all, these four became one when the Sirionean Empire took over the dominion and ruled the world for a millenia. During the Sirionean period these four styles were all to be found inside the royal palace, where people of the blood lines trained in all of the styles, though they did pick a specialty, usually their own line.

Source: ☼ Sienna Veris, Scholar of Dawn.'

Here are the supposed names of the four ruling styles definitive texts, in sofar as I've been able to translate. Sirionean is a headache and a half, I tell you.

Duruhan's Embrace of the Earthmother.

Wadhan's Chronicles of the Lifebinder.

Enthana's Wrath of the Stormweaver.

Arahan's Record of the Burning World.

- From an unfinished scroll by Archmagus Siovanus Mitrus Vardenaai. Found in the Magus' office after his untimely death during the border wars, 239 ABS (After the battle of Sirion).

--

Vesteele's sword flashed, cutting through the ugly things head. Sickly black blood spurted from the corrupted spider creature as it fell onto the ancient stones. "That's the last of them." Barnas shouted. Ves nodded. "I sure as sand hope so. I don't want to spend any more time in these creepy ruins than strictly necessary."

Barnas walked up to stand beside her, his huge frame looming. "Your venture, your call little missy." Ves smiled up at the old bastard.

"Maybe I should go in alone eh? I can almost see the stone crumbling."

Barnas shrugged. "Suit yourself Princess."

Ves frowned. "Come on, are you still mad about yesterday?" She asked.

Barnas sighed. "Calling me pregnant just cuz this old man got a little bit of a beer belly, kids nowadays are relentless." He grumbled.

Well, it was no use waiting any longer. Ves almost jumped through the small door of white stone leading into the crumbling building. Her black boots tap tapped as she walked towards the crumbling main pillar.

It was huge in girth, not unlike Barnas. Ves blushed. No, not in that way. He was just fat and had big muscles, nothing more. The old merc had promised not to draw his secondary weapon on her when they set out on this trip. Her father had made the man swear a holy oath for sands sake. Could he not have a little faith in his beloved daughter?

She could take him in a fight anyway, since Barnas could only swing his huge axe around, not draw any sigils.

Ves stepped around the huge greyish white pillar, eyeing the cracks in the stone dubiously. Her heart pounded faster and faster in her chest. Could this be it?

"YES! Barnas get your fat ass in here, I found one!" Ves yelled unable to contain herself. She bounced up to the gate, an arch of stone standing by itself in the middle of the room, but frowned. There was something lying on the ground behind it.

"Ah, someone got shafted good." Barnas said. "What do you think killed him? It's a man right?" Ves nodded. It was a man alright.

Though if not for the pool of dried blood in which he lay, she could swear he was alive. He must've died recently, but from what? Those clothes were strange, the upper part mostly torn as if from a magical explosion, yet his flesh appeared hale and smooth and she could make out the contours of muscles underneath his marble-like skin, indicating that he wasn't some blubbery noble with no training that got pissed on ale and decided that he was suddenly an explorer.

No, judging by build alone, this man was clearly a fighter, though probably not very good if he'd kicked the bucket here on the outskirts of the darkwood where only the weakest of corrupted spiders roamed.

He was as pale white as the marble stone pillar, had long black hair and fine features. She'd say he was beautiful rather than handsome, certainly a looker though. Was she at risk of becoming a necrofiliac? The features of his face were strange... She hadn't seen the like of him before.

Ves cocked her head studying the corpse in detail. "What do you think, big oaf. Isn't it supremely strange to find this here of all places?" She said, waving a hand at the corpse.

Barnas nodded and replied. "Do you think he was killed by the spiders?"

Ves shook her head. "No, they wouldn't just leave him here. They'd cocoon him up and drag him off to their nest in the darkwood, wouldn't they? Which begs the question of why they haven't approached him yet, seeing as how he'd be free food for them." Ves said.

"Indeed. The littler buggers were swarming the place. Mina and the others are probably still killing the things while they wait for us to return." Barnas said.

"Well, I'll just check for crystals then- shit, it moved! I mean he, he moved!" Ves shouted, her heart jumping in her chest. "You're taking the piss, how can a corpse be movin'." Barnas replied.

"I swear he just moved. He's breathing I think. Sands I think he's alive." Ves said, and together Barnas and her approached the man tentatively. The gate looked to be in shitty conditio. There was no crystal, no nothing, just crumbling stone. And beneath the stone arch lay a strange looking man.

"Well no use dawdling round here big oaf. Let's get him back to Mina, so she can have a look at him."

When Ves moved to pick him up, she noticed that he was taller than she'd anticipated. With a little grunt of effort, Ves lifted the man. Barnas could've slung him over his shoulders and carried him like a sack of potatoes, but the spiders were dead and there was no telling what kind of injuries this man had sustained. She therefore carried him in her arms, careful not to stir him too much.

"You know Princess, I could help you with that." Barnas said as Ves struggled sideways through the doorway outside.

"Shut up oaf, I got this. He's just a bit taller than I expected is all." Ves said. In truth, he was alot taller than she had expected, and was not exactly easy to carry. Still, she had always wanted to carry a beautiful man in what the plebs dubbed the princess carry. There was something funny, yet beautifully ironic about her of all people, carrying someone like this.

Barnas grinned. "Don't want me taking away your new man huh?"

"What do you mean new man? It's not like I have an old man. Other than you, that is." Ves said.

Their journey back to the caravan was nice and uneventful, though Barnas continued to tease her about the man she was carrying. By the time they got back to the three caravans standing in a loose circle, Mina and the others had a fire going in the clearing. Vesteele's arms burned from carrying the man this far.

Their party didn't spot her and Barnas until they were almost in camp. The reason for that was simple. They were drinking, and could she blame them? Mina was probably keeping watch, so they were safe enough.

Ves stumbled into camp, laying down the tall man near the fire.

The others were deep in the bottle, but Mina raised her eyebrows. The woman was a priestess of Rothinia, and so was required to always keep a clear head in case someone needed her assistance. Guard duty was often pushed onto her, though she didn't mind it. Ves thought that her friend rather enjoyed the peace and quiet that descended upon the camp as the drunkards zonked out for the night.

"Mind taking a look at him? Found him in the ancient ruins just lying there in a dried pool of presumably his own blood." Ves asked. Mina nodded.

She was a mute, her tongue cut out for a crime she didn't commit when she'd been but a girl of 13. Now she was 27, and rather famous within the explorers guild for being the youngest healer to reach master rank. Strictly speaking, Mina was still a rank 6 intermediate when it came to sigils in general, but if she was to be judged solely on her proficiency with healing sigils then she'd be rank 9 or 10. To be honest, that was a little scary, and Ves envied the womans talents.

"I know what you wanna say Mina." Barnas said, as he popped the cork on a flask of firewater and bottomed up. Mina gazed up at him, a question in her faintly glowing blue eyes. "And what is that?" Ves asked flatly.

"Why the hell did you carry him all the way here by yourself when you have a big, strong handsome man like Barnas to do your bidding." Barnas said, puffing out his chest comically and flexing his arms. Ves let out a strangled laugh.

Mina smiled and shook her head, running her fingertips across the unconscious mans chest. Ves felt a sudden pang in her gut. That was her prize. She had fought and nearly bled for it.

Okay it hadn't been that much of an ordeal, but still. No other woman was going to steal it from her. A moment later, she sighed at her own foolishness. She knew Mina was only doing her job.

A series of hand signals from Mina told Ves all she needed to know. The man was completely fine. She could not find a single thing wrong with him. Strange?

The last hand symbol Mina performed meant strange. Was there something strange about the man? Ves wasn't completely fluent in handtalk yet, which was annoying.

She chuckled and patted Mina's shoulder. "Of course he's strange. I found him lying in an ancient ruin overrun by corrupted spiders. You can hardly expect such a man to be normal, can you?" Mina looked over at her, then shrugged.

They would talk details once they got home. She'd been writing letters back and forth with Mina since she was but a little princess trapped in her ivory tower, with a sour old man teaching her sigils and etiquette and how to be a frigid old coot.

Most would sacrifice an arm and a leg just to get a whiff of the old mans buttcrack, but Ves knew better than anyone else that studying under Master Gideron was anything but pleasant.

"Come big oaf, let's drink to our continued failure!" Ves said, and together they went to join their explorer's band at the campfire.