A pale figure strolled through the city, cloaked in dark leather. Short, black, unkempt hair, a stubble beard, and russet eyes. The people looked wary around him, and as cold as he may have seemed, he could understand what he had to do to make them feel warm. He made his way out of the city. A cold day in the Thorne Empire, as a mercenary from Frosthelm wandered. It was a beautiful country, fertile soil and frequent rain led it to be prosperous, prosperous enough to build a powerful kingdom atop that fertile soil. The mercenary trod the loose, newly wet soil, leaving faint impressions upon it as the sounds of the city faded. Thorne was planning an attack on Ravenna, and he cared not for the politics, only the battle. General Asher had yet to be found, making it the perfect time to attack the mainland. General Julian was the only general stationed there, and with the possibility of Asherâs frequent returns to Rubica to socialize out the window, it was like Prometheus himself had planned the attack for them. Galleons were being boarded in the capital, but this mercenary wanted to see Thorneâs natural beauty one more time, before he might never get to see it again. The mercenary, Axel Schneider, was missing his home in Frosthelm. He loved the cold, and the thought of going to the second hottest kingdom in the War Seas was far from appealing. The weather in Thorne that day wasnât exactly like Frosthelm, but it was cold enough for Axel to feel at home. Like a warm goodbye. He let out a long sigh, before swiftly returning to the capital to board.
Each step he took had such vigor, the likes of which the Thorne troops had never seen. This man was walking with passion, nearly cracking the ash planks beneath his feet. His magical aura had a chill to it, and the soldiers felt it. Cold, and sharp, like it could cut the throats of any who opposed it. This mercenary, whom many Thorne soldiers had never seen until now, asserted his authority just with his presence. He, and he alone, would captain this vessel, and he was not going to let somebody else govern how he does it. The mercenaryâs aura was strong, however. It was not something that only a few soldiers would have been able to feel, were it not drowned out by General Avery Walker and the Crown Prince of Thornsâ auras. Even to Axel, they were something to behold. To them, Axel was cannon fodder. He could accept that, though. He knew his place, and he knew it well. At best, he was on par with Valerii, but Valerii would not be in Ravenna. With Blasted Rock as cover, the fleet would cross northeast to capture Tiberia, before climbing Mount Caesar and ambushing the castello.
The Prince released the sails on his ship of the line, and the fleet followed suit, each galleon and frigate leaving port behind him. Eight galleons, and twelve frigates. Axel was heading the eighth galleon, named The Seraphina. It took six months to reach Mount Othrys, and another week for Ravenna to be in sight. A dim green shimmer appeared in the sky to the east at night. Axel was on the deck, stargazing when it appeared, along with his quartermaster.
âWhat the hell is that? A new star?â He wondered, not directly talking to the quartermaster, but more so putting the question out there.
âHuh. Youâre right, Captain. It does seem like a new starâs up there.â The quartermaster responded. âOdd.â
âOdd indeed⌠odd indeed.â
In the morning, the shimmer remained, only growing brighter. Hours passed, it grew brighter and brighter, about as bright as the moon, only smaller. By nightfall, it appeared to be moving slowly. Axel was long asleep as a loud crash was heard from far back, and a bright green glow emanated from Mount Othrys. He slowly rose from his bed, not pleased with the sounds of panic on the ship ruining his beauty sleep. It required long rest to look as âgoodâ as he did. As he walked out onto the deck, he found his ship alone, and splattered with blood. No fleet in sight, as fog slowly encroached. What the hell kind of dream is this? He wondered. Soldiers ran to him, mortified.
âCaptain! You must help! The crew is-â The manâs words were cut short, as a thin green beam was shot through his head. He was dead before he hit the ground. No blood spilled, as the wound was cauterized instantly. Just by glancing over his body, it was easy to tell the entire skull was fractured. More beams were shot at more soldiers, before one was shot at Axel, who was watching the whole situation unfold in awe. Before it could kill him too, however, he drew his blade, and blocked it. The blade shattered, and it became clear that this enemy was a serious threat. The power needed to destroy a tempered arcanium blade forged in the heart of Frosthelm was nearly immeasurable. Within a split second, Axel channeled his magic into the blade, or what was left of it, and pulled it back together with more frostmetal. He swung his sword around him as hard and quickly as he could, clearing the fog. In the air, he saw General Asher of Ravenna, flying above the sea, green flame in place of his lower body. Asher landed on the ship, and drew his greataxe, which was quickly lit ablaze with scorch magic, accompanied by a sudden and fitting boom.
tbh one of my shorter ones, but i think ive done a good job with it
as per usual, constructive criticism pretty please with a tempered frostmetal arcanium blade forged in the heart of frosthelm on top