Prologue

He ran as fast as he could, hearing the shouting of the Erikan guards off in the distance behind him. He knew that if he slowed down even a little then their tracker spirits would be on him in an instant. He needed to somehow get them off of his tail so he could find a way to get out of the city, which was already going to be a hard enough task on its own. The Irijian capital of Erika was one of the most heavily fortified cities in the west with some of the most renowned magic users from across the world making it their home. If he didn’t escape within the next hour, the city would go into a full scale lockdown and it would be unlikely that he would ever escape.

Hell, I’d probably be better off surrendering, he thought to himself. At least they’d go easier on me if I did.

Yet, even knowing that, Rista Pine didn’t turn around nor did he slow. It was unthinkable for him to give up after coming so far. He’d already accomplished so much and he owed it to the others, and especially his mentor, to see the mission through. He couldn’t let any of their deaths be in vain.

Rista reached a hand down to his hip to ensure that the pouch carrying the relic was still there, tied to his belt. Feeling the soft leather of the small, palm-sized pouch put him slightly at ease, assuring him that he hadn’t dropped it in his escape.

Good. I’ve still got it.

The shouts of the guards somewhere behind him were getting louder, but he pushed his fears from his mind, knowing that now that he had made it into the back alleys of Erika’s slums, they were on his turf. After all, Rista knew these paths like the back of his hand. Combined with the cover of the night’s darkness and his own proficiency in wind magic, he was confident that he could find a place to hide before the guards could catch him.

He took a deep breath, making sure his heartbeat was steady, and put even more magical power into his legs as he propelled himself around a corner, increasing his running speed from twice that of an average person to three times. At the same time, he manipulated the air around his feet to muffle the sound of his boots against the cobblestone path so that anybody living in the buildings around wouldn’t hear him.

Not that it would matter if they did, he realized, knowing that between the air manipulation he was using to conceal his presence and the black cloak hiding his features, all any onlookers would see was a distortion in the space around him and perhaps a small glimpse of black cloth.

At the moment, all he could hope to do was try and get a hold of any of the other children that might have made it out of the Citadel alive. With Erika and its mages now on high alert and no doubt panicking with the theft of one of its most valuable and rare talismans, the other Children were the only ones he could trust. Nobody else would risk getting killed or even erased to help a mere orphan boy like him. Only those he had grown up with would lend him a hand now.

That is...if any of them are still alive.

He felt tears start to form in his eyes but he hurriedly pushed his feelings back inside as he rounded another corner and used his abilities to scan the air around him for any sign of trackers.

He could still clearly see the deaths of all his brothers and sisters replaying in his mind, forcing him to accept that despite succeeding in stealing the relic, they had failed in every other way. He recalled seeing Eora burnt alive by flame magic and Laios turning back to try and save her only to be overrun by the mana-infused blades of the Citadel’s soldiers. They were only the first of many. Noran and Ria also fell before they’d even escaped the vault’s floor. They had started with ten of them, all highly skilled in air magic, and by the time they had finally reached the escape point to get out of the Citadel and back into the city, Rista was alone, not knowing who still lived and who had met their end.

I’ve gotta do this! he urged himself. I’ve gotta get out of the city as fast as I can! I can’t let the relic fall back into the hands of the Irijians! Otherwise...

He let the thought hang, not wanting to even further consider the possibility of failure.

Feeling that he had put enough distance between himself and the guards, Rista ground to a halt and hurriedly surveyed his surroundings. He recognized where he was in an instant based on the abandoned and worn out appearances of the black cobblestone buildings around him.

I’m in the southwest quadrant, he realized. Which means that I’ve got at least ten miles between me and the Citadel. I’ve got time!

Rista turned and looked up at the four story structures around him that he knew used to be apartment buildings and still served as places for the homeless to sneak into and sleep in.

It’ll be risky, but I should get up to the roof and get an idea of how close the guards are.

Despite his apprehension, he took another deep breath and whispered, “Ventus.”

He could feel the energy surging through his hands as his feet slowly left the ground. He needed to have complete concentration to both levitate his body from the ground and to continue distorting the air. If he faltered for even a second then the spells would break and he would crash into the cobblestone ground below.

However, this wasn’t Rista’s first time using levitation and distortion in tandem and so he was confident that he wouldn’t falter. Within ten seconds, he was hovering over the roof of one of the apartment buildings.

“Prohi,” he breathed, canceling the levitation spell and landing gracefully onto the roof.

He wasted no time, knowing the trackers would have an easier job finding him above even with the distortion. Rista spun around to face east where he could clearly see the lights of the city off in the distance as well as the large, towering fortress walls of the Citadel directly ahead in the center of Erika. Beyond those walls was the Citadel itself, a tower so large that it took up almost half a mile in diameter and reached nearly nine hundred meters into the sky. When he was younger, he looked up at the white tower in awe, as did most people who got the chance to behold the Citadel’s beauty.

But now, after having narrowly avoided death and losing almost everybody he loved within its corridors, all the sight of it did was make him sick.

I need to get moving, he thought nervously, turning his attention away from the Citadel and towards the mountain to the south.

The city of Erika was built at the base of the tallest mountain in Irijia, Mount Crainin, and was the center of trade for the magical crystals mined from within its caves. Much of Irijia’s magical superiority came from its monopoly on some of the rare and powerful gems that had only ever been found within Crainin’s mines. The caverns themselves were long and complicated, almost like a maze, but did eventually lead to the other side of the mountain.

Rista swallowed nervously.

He knew the mages of the Citadel would expect him to attempt his escape through the northern gate since he could use the forests beyond as cover. Given the ease with which one could get lost in the Mines of Crainin, they would never expect him to risk trying to escape through there. What they didn’t know was that he had long since memorized a map of its caverns and would be able to get to the other side within a day. As long as he moved quickly and continued to distort the air around him, nobody would ever realize he was there.

I know it’s smarter to try and make contact with one of the other Children but... He sighed. I need to get out as fast as I can. If I can just find a way to get past the gates and into the mountain...

Shaking his head, Rista focused his magic into his feet once more and propelled himself over the road and onto the roof across from him. He didn’t stop there, using his speed and precision to move across the rooftops in the direction of the southern gates.

I have to try. I’m carrying one of Irijia’s most valuable weapons on me...as well as...

His thoughts briefly shifted to the knife strapped to his hip beside the pouch, knowing that he could use it to escape with ease. If he simply used its power, he could get himself someplace far away from Irijia and out of the clutches of the mages in an instant. The reason he hesitated to use it was because he knew it was a one-way trip. If he resorted to the dagger, it was unlikely he would ever be able to come back.

I can’t do that! Mrs. Reiner gave me a job to do! he reminded himself. I can’t fail her now! I need to get the relic up north to Trovia and away from the mages! If I take it there...

His thoughts briefly shifted to his final conversation with his mentor, Abigail Reiner, before she was killed. It was the moment when she had given him the knife.

“This is only to be used in an emergency,” she had told him. “This blade may recharge quickly here, with such an abundance of magic, but there...it takes years to reclaim enough power to make the jump back. Only use this blade as a last resort.”

A last resort. Rista clenched his teeth, propelling himself onto another roof, noticing the lights and chatter of the night market getting closer. I still have options. I can’t give up yet.

He launched himself across a few more buildings, heading in the direction of the Erikan Night Market. The market was another part of the city that drew tourists from all across the world. There were many things that could only be purchased there and some of the best craftsmen one could find set up shops on Main Street. Because of it’s fame, the market never closed. It was packed with people from dawn till dusk.

Which means it’ll be a perfect place to blend in, he told himself.

Even using his distortion magic, the trackers would be able to find him eventually the longer he remained alone. The little spirits worked by searching for the mana flowing inside one's body rather than their physical existence and distorting the air did nothing to hide personal mana. However, if he dropped into the crowds milling around at the market, they would have a far harder time differentiating his mana from that of those around him. It should buy him enough time to get to the southern gates.

Rista landed atop the roof of one of the market’s shops and came to a stop. He was only two stories off the ground so he could clearly make out the faces of the many shoppers down on the roads. The fire magic of the streetlights illuminated the market in a red glow, giving Rista the chance to quickly scan for any guards. He spotted a few trios of Erikan guards, distinct from the rest of the crowd due to their green and gold armor. He could see them rushing around and pushing past the shoppers as they entered the various buildings and stalls.

They probably expected I would try to lose the trackers here, he remarked. Guess I better be extra cautious.

“Ventus,” he breathed, activating his levitation magic once again. He slowly rose from the roof and then carefully maneuvered himself down towards the road below, choosing a spot on the sidewalk where there weren’t any shoppers.

“Prohi.”

His feet soundlessly hit the ground and he immediately directed all of his power into distortion. With everything he had put into concealing his presence, as long as he didn’t bump into anybody and no one looked directly at him, he would be safe from discovery. Only the most observant could be able to see the faint shimmering that distortion magic created to conceal him.

Rista moved immediately, staying close to the buildings and carefully moving out of the way of anybody walking around. He almost bumped a few people on his way, but was lucky enough to just barely inch by. In addition, every time it seemed like somebody had noticed the shimmering, he froze in place and waited for them to move on. He had started near the edge of the southern end of the market so he didn’t have to travel very far before the crowds started thinning. Once he reached the residential district, there was nobody around. It was significantly late so the only people who wouldn’t be at home sleeping were almost certainly at the market.

Rista grinned, feeling confident for the first time since escaping the Citadel. I might actually do this.

With the streets before him empty, he diverted some power into his feet again and took off running. He wasn’t as familiar with the area as he had been with the back alleys so he didn’t run as fast. All the while he kept the mountain in front of him, wanting to be sure he was heading south.

Alright...I can do this. I’m almost there! If I can just reach the gates, I’ll—!

Rista ground to a sudden halt, hurriedly putting his power back into distortion. He had rounded a corner and immediately seen the silhouette of a person at the end of the street, standing completely still. Despite the street lamps casting their light over the road, the person’s features remained dark. Rista held his breath, waiting for them to move. He knew he should just sprint past the figure, knowing that they would never be able to sense his presence, yet he remained still. His instincts were urging him to turn and flee despite there being no clear danger.

Then, without any warning, the figure vanished.

“What...?” Rista exhaled softly, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Rista Pine, I presume?”

He jumped and spun around, the sudden voice mere inches from his ear completely taking him by surprise.

What the hell? How did he see me?!

He was certain that his distortion was still activated. However, when he took in the sight of the man standing only feet away from him, he realized with utter terror how he had been found.

The man before him grinned slyly. “I see you recognize me. Good. Then you know that resistance is a waste of both of our times.”

You’ve got to be kidding! How is he here? Why is he here? Did they know I’d be heading this way? And if they did...why send him? Am I really that big of a threat?!

“I must say, I’m impressed,” the man continued. “Even if you lost a bunch of people in the process, I never thought it would be possible for somebody to infiltrate the Citadel and escape alive...let alone steal one of the relics.”

Rista couldn’t find the words to reply. The man was speaking so casually, as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. But of course, Rista had never even seen the man in person. All he knew were the rumors and the whispers that spread throughout the slums.

His name was Nigreos Noctis and he was one of the Masters of the Citadel. One look at his appearance made it clear which magic class he was the Master of. Every part of the man was pitch black; his skin, his hair, his thin beard, and even the suit and tie that he wore, which was more common in the northern regions than in Erika. The only thing showing any light were his eyes, pupil-less and shining pure white. To anybody well versed in the art of magic, they knew that this was one of the most powerful mages in Irijia and Master of one of the most powerful magic classes—Darkness.

“You’re oddly quiet,” Nigreos mused. “Don’t have anything to say for yourself? You can at least gloat. Even if you’ve broken the most sacred laws of the country, what you did was impressive. You should take advantage of your bragging rights while you can.”

Do I fight him? he thought frantically. Would I even stand a chance?! If this guy’s as powerful as they say he is then I might get killed in seconds. But...

The sweet and calming features of Mrs. Reiner flashed through his mind, followed by those of the children who gave their lives trying to steal one of the relics.

If I give up now...it’ll have all been for nothing...and Mrs. Reiner’s wish will never come true.

Nigreos tilted his head in curiosity. “Are you a mute?”

Rista once again considered the knife at his hip and immediately discarded the thought. He would only use it if he couldn’t get away. Instead, his thoughts shifted to his personal one-handed sword strapped to his left hip.

Well...I have to at least try.

He exhaled softly then shouted, “Proto!”

Air magic suddenly erupted from underneath his feet, launching him backwards. With practiced skill, he spun around so that his feet pressed against the front wall of the house to his left. Rista knew Nigreos could strike at any second so he centered his magic back into his feet and launched himself into the sky, heading southward towards the mountain. He used his momentum to ricochet off of the houses on either side of the road, bouncing back and forth to keep his speed from decreasing.

He hasn’t attacked yet? Why not?!

He spared a glance over his shoulder to see the man still standing in the same spot, staring after him.

Shit! He’s probably planning something! I need to be on guard!

Yet, Nigreos never moved and Rista found himself landing on the road of the next neighborhood over before beginning to sprint toward the southern gates.

“Well, that was rude.”

At the sound of the voice, coming from only mere feet ahead of him, Rista felt a sudden impact against his body and before he knew it, he was laying on the concrete, staring up into the night sky with his breath knocked out of him. It was so sudden that he didn’t even know how to react. Nigreos stood above him, his hands in his suit’s pockets as he stared down at Rista with a cocked eyebrow.

“Well I suppose I should have expected as much from a person as bold as you,” Nigreos continued.

Damn it! What the hell?! How did he get here so fast? And what did he hit me with?

Trying to ignore the pain coursing through his body, Rista mustered all his strength to make another move.

“Proto!”

This time, the air centered around his entire body, launching him up into the air, far above Nigreos’s head. He used the magic to add strength to his body as he reached down and unsheathed the longsword at his hip.

“Infundite!” he shouted.

The incantation activated the extra mana stored within the cyan-colored gem in the hilt of the sword. Wind magic began to swirl around the steel, adding its might to the already sharpened blade. Down below, the Master of Darkness simply stared up at him, unmoving.

It looks like I’m going to have to fight him, he realized. I don’t know what he can do, but I know he’s powerful. If it becomes clear that I have no shot of winning, I’ll use the knife and I’ll run. Until then...

“Proto!” Rista let out a howl as his body launched not toward Nigreos but toward the house on the other side of him. His plan was to move faster than the Master could see. No matter how powerful he was, he couldn’t defend against an attack from every direction almost at once.

Using the same movements as when he fled the man the first time, Rista bounced over the road and back, circling the Master but never staying in one spot longer than a millisecond. Then, when he believed himself to have an opening, he propelled himself toward the man, swinging his blade at his exposed neck.

The next instant, Nigreos disappeared.

What?!

Feeling the sudden presence of overwhelming mana behind him, Rista landed on the ground and used it as a launchpad, sending himself back into the air. When he turned to look back, Nigreos was standing a few feet from where he had just been, still silently watching.

How?! Is this...what dark magic is like?!

Because of his time spent under the teachings of Abigail Reiner, he had been exposed to users of various forms of magic. All of the Children had been taught by her, and Rista had come to know users of all the main classes. One of the only types he had never faced was dark magic since there were very few people in the world that could harness its power. Even Mrs. Reiner couldn’t use it and she was proficient in most others.

Can dark magic enable him to move like that?! he thought incredulously.

“Proto!” he shouted once more, launching himself back onto one of the houses.

He tried again, propelling all around and sending strike after strike toward Nigreos but none ever found their mark. The Master kept vanishing and reappearing at random so that Rista was never able to land even a single blow.

“Alright. I’ve had enough. We’ve had our fun,” the Master suddenly called out.

The next moment, a sudden impact slammed into his body, sending him flying into the road. Had he not broken his fall with magic, the impact would have almost assuredly killed him and he only barely saved himself from any life-threatening injuries. That alone told him that the Master was ready to take the fight seriously.

“I admit, you’re a talented sorcerer,” Nigreos said, smiling confidently. “But I wouldn’t expect anything less of a disciple of Abi Reiner.”

Rista clenched his teeth, pushing himself to his feet so he could face the other man with dignity. “You knew her?” he growled.

“Ah, he finally speaks,” the Master mused. “Of course I knew her, boy. We were Masters together, after all…before she decided to turn against us.” He shook his head. “She was the most talented healer I’ve ever met. It truly was a pity.”

Rista narrowed his eyes, wondering suddenly how well the two had actually known each other. He had never heard anything about the Master of Darkness from Mrs. Reiner but he was talking like he knew her well. In addition, while he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, Nigreos’s tone almost sounded regretful.

“I’m sure you’ll see her soon enough.” Nigreos held out his hand. “Return the stone, boy. If you cooperate, perhaps I can convince the others to simply kill you rather than erase you. But if you struggle...” His voice turned dark for a moment. “...I can’t say I’ll be so generous.”

Rista sighed. He knew he couldn’t beat Nigreos in a fight so he was left with his only option. He really didn’t want to leave given the uncertain fates of some of the other children but if he died and the relic was returned then those who sacrificed their lives would have done so for nothing.

“Prot—!”

Before he could get the last part of the incantation out, he suddenly grunted in pain, his sword dropping from his grasp. He could feel blood trickling from his lips. When he looked down, his eyes went wide. A hand was protruding from his chest. It was small and delicate, the skin colorless and white, yet it went through his body as if he were paper.

Without warning, the hand was wrenched from his body and he toppled forward. He couldn’t scream. For some reason, he couldn’t get his mouth to make a sound..

“You were warned,” came a soft, monotone female voice from behind him. “You should have accepted his offer.”

He struggled to look up over his shoulder and what he saw only made him realize just how powerless he had been. The woman standing before him was Nigreos’s complete antithesis. Her skin and long hair were completely white, as was the suit she wore that matched Nigreos’s in the northern style. Her eyes were also pupil-less, but the color was black. He recognized her in an instant, recalling other rumors he had heard throughout his time with Mrs. Reiner.

Her name was Album Luz, the Master of Light.

The Masters of Light and Dark... Shit. I never really had a chance, did I?

“What a pity,” Nigreos muttered. “I dare say you could have become Master of Wind someday with your skill had you not turned traitor.”

Rista pushed himself up onto his knees and looked up at the black-clad man. He was surprised to find that Nigreos looked genuinely disappointed.

“Now...give me the gem, boy.” He held his hand out once more.

Rista slowly nodded, reaching down into his cloak to where the pouch was tied. Album was right behind him so he couldn’t be sure if she suspected anything. All he could do was hope. Rather than grabbing the pouch, he wrapped his fingers around the pommel of Mrs. Reiner’s knife.

Please work...

He ripped it from its sheath and spun around, slicing toward where he knew Album to be. Yellow mana erupted around the blade as the woman jumped back in surprise.

“Really now. This is getting ridicu—!”

Nigreos stopped mid-sentence and Rista knew that the Master had figured out what he was doing. He had never meant to strike Album. Cutting through the air had always been his intention. The space around where he sliced suddenly distorted, as if he had made a clean cut in reality itself. Without warning, the cut expanded outwards and Rista found himself looking into a portal of yellow. With Album on the other side of the portal, she wouldn’t be able to reach him so he knew he had to escape before Nigreos could react. Within a mere second of the portal opening, Rista whispered, “Proto.”

“No!”

He heard Nigreos’s shout of surprise behind him just as his body lurched forward and was engulfed by the mana. The feeling was as weird as he had expected it to be. When he went through, he felt like he was submerged in water for a few seconds before his body collided with the warm and grainy ground. He didn’t know where he was and he didn’t have time to check. Instead, he grabbed the knife and pressed a button on its hilt to close the portal.

In a second, the yellow portal vanished, sealing himself off from Irijia...but more importantly, sealing Nigreos and Album off from whichever world he was now in.

Rista could feel his body weakening from the wound and knew he would need to get it treated as fast as possible. He hurriedly took in his surroundings and frowned. He was sitting on a beach, mere yards from the shores of the ocean. The sun was low on the horizon, casting an orange glow over the world. The breeze felt good on his face, which was covered in sweat. The beach stretched further to the left and to the right, he saw the mouth of a cave.

I should go in there and hide for the moment. I don’t know which world I’m in just yet. All I know...is that it’s one of the magicless ones.

Just as the thought went through his mind, he noticed something laying in the sand beside him. He exhaled sharply, realizing instantly that it was a severed hand, its skin pitch black and dark red blood dripping from the stump of the wrist.

Nigreos’s hand? Did it get caught in the portal?

Seconds later, a wave splashed up toward him, splashing him with salty seawater, before enveloping the hand and pulling it out to sea. With the realization that he had managed to sever a limb of one of the most powerful men in Ijiria, Rista suddenly felt even more terrified of the task ahead of him. He pushed himself to his feet and shuffled toward the mouth of the cave. He didn’t want to go too far in so that he could still have sunlight so he simply sat down against the wall only a few yards inside.

He exhaled with relief which only sent another spasm of pain through his body.

Well...at least I got away.

He set the realm dagger down onto the ground and reached for the leather pouch tied to his belt. It was still where he left it even after hopping through realms, which put his mind at ease.

So...which one did we get?

He began untying the thin strands of rope that kept it in place, eager to know which of the relics they had managed to acquire. When they broke into the vault of the Citadel, they hadn’t had the chance to determine where each gem was so he couldn’t be certain what they had. He prayed that it would be one of the offensive gems so that he could use it in self defense against the mages when they inevitably came after him.

When the pouch was untied, he pulled it open and carefully reached inside. What he pulled out was an oval-shaped gemstone about the size of his palm. However, despite having one of the relics of Irijia, his excitement died in an instant.

The gem was orange.

It’s...the Assassination Gem...

It wouldn’t be helpful to him in the slightest. All it would do was enable him to hide but, against the Masters of Irijia, that would be next to useless. In a world without magic, he would be easily found due to his far larger levels of mana.

Shit...

Thunk.

At the sound of the noise, he frowned, finding himself barely processing what he had just witnessed. There was a hole in his hand where the gem had just been sitting. Now, it was laying on the ground of the cave right next to him.

What happened?

He understood seconds later when the rest of his hand began crumbling into dust. His eyes went wide.

No! No, please!

Somehow, despite being worlds apart, Album was erasing him.

How?! She shouldn’t be able to do this! Was it the wound?! Did she put something inside of me?!

The rest of his arms vanished, followed by his feet. The phenomenon was enveloping even his clothes.

Shit! If I’m erased then...nobody will know to come after me! The others won’t know what happened! No! Please!

Yet despite his internal pleas, his body continued to vanish. It spread up his legs and toward his torso as he collapsed onto the ground. Tears were forming in his eyes as he realized that he had failed after all. Even after doing everything in his power to survive, he was going to be erased.

I’m sorry, Mrs. Reiner... I’m sorry...everybody. I tried my best...

But I just wasn’t strong enough.

In the next moment, the rest of Rista Pine vanished into nothingness.