The Last Theian and the Clockwork Empire

Prologue
Commander Argyros was, as always, on night-shift. Like every night before this after they had been nearly killed when passing the borders between the Betrest Empire and the Galatean Kingdom; since he was the only one who could see clearly in the dark, due to being the only one of his species in the company.

Argyros was an Eurypon: an insect humanoid with a green scaled skin, a thin but uncommonly muscular build for 'an insect' and two large, black eyes. His original name, Agraeitheldimakos, was too long for other races to pronounce, so he had taken the name Argyros later in his life. He had lived for 43 years, and become a disgrace for his whole species because of this. "Only death pays for life", his mother had said; "Your father died to give his life to you, and so should you do to your children. We are not a race of warriors, we are a race of survivors. You will stay here, at our homeland, and continue our royal lineage."

That royal lineage was nothing else than a title for someone who lived at that place before it became a town, and later a city; if it was to be called a city. As a male, Argyros was to raise the eggs of his children in his stomach, and then die painfully when they burst out of his stomach. Most of them wouldn't even survive these days, and Argyros was the only child in his family. He'd rather not think about any of this.

So he had ran away, following roads to another lands. Jungles turned to smaller forests, which turned to plains, and to forests again. In the east, the Corinna Sultanate was a perfect place for him to start anew, in the city of Palladas. But soon he also learned the harshness of the outer world, a different harshness that of his own. After months of useless begging, he dragged himself to the local arena, curious about the people who had gone there and returned with bags of gold, to spare a few coins for him. As he did not understand much of the local language, he only understood the situation when the gates lowered in front of him as he was holding a bastard sword.

He would always remember his first opponent: A large Meorn, another inhabitant of Pantaleon, that had starved possibly in the prison. Meorns are a purple-haired tribe of shamans and warriors from deep within the jungles, where the Eurypon didn't dare to enter; their hunting skills After a long, desperate fight between the two, Argyros learned to use his lightweight build to outmatch the large prisoner, and soon, accidentally, tripped over, losing the grip of his sword; however, the momentum caused the sword to whirl through the air and split his enemy's head in two. The cheering people had took a fragment of his hearing back then. A local kind and enormously fat nobleman had bet all of his money on him while drunk, and the arena's rules were that the winner would get a fourth of the prize. From that day forward, Argyros had started training, quickly becoming better and better with a variety of weapons. A spear was his favorite, with a long range and being lighter than a bastard sword that many others used. Quickly he became a renowned fighter in the arena, which offered him a small room with a bed in the below chambers to sleep safely. One after one, people fell to his spear, and he also learned the native language by drinking and eating with the local noblemen that came to bet to his victory quite often.

But the small room of the arena wasn't a comfortable home for him, neither was the crowded city that was filled by all sorts of lowlife. He went to taverns, looking to become a mercenary for a travelling caravan or two. Soon he had found one, a trading caravan going to the Galatean Kingdom. He had packed the little stuff he had and left Palladas.

When they had arrived, they had found a land of war and desolation. Smoking villages, cities in desperate conditions, starving people everywhere. The caravan master told Argyros something he had thought he had understood wrong; that a city inhabited by semi-gods themselves had disappeared in a blinding light after the people turned against them.

The caravan had stopped in the city of Damasias, a 'city of chances' for gambling being it's main trade; a poor man could turn rich in one night and a rich man could lose everything even faster; In a shady tavern full of shady people. That night the whole caravan was murdered by a band of robbers that took their chance upon seeing the tired crew, and only Argyros and another, pale-skinned fellow had escaped before the robbers had got them. That pale-skinned was a member of the race of Boreakhis, a northern tribe of Snow Elves that shared their resistance to cold with the Eurypon, but died soon after to a disease that had caught him. Argyros was, once more, alone in a strange city.

After another round of months of fighting for money in the rings, Argyros had met a hooded old man in a tavern one late night. The man had told him he had seen him fight, and offered a place in a special company. Payment was offered. "You will get free food and a place to sleep in every night, and a great payment is promised monthly" the man had told him. As a easily-relying man, Argyros took the chance and joined this strange company.

soon had he found out the true nature of this company. They were known as the Atherian Nomads by others, trading caravans of varying entertainment, cheering people throughout the lands in these dark times, where civil wars tear regions apart and conflicts starve the people. The company, formed about 50 years ago, at the same time when the semi-gods, known as Theians in the common tongue, had fallen in the War of the Monolith. The somewhat-suspicious group he travelled around consisted of over 130 men and women, but there were also children; according to the old man, named Hemkor after a legendary mage, they were orphans the caravan had taken to aid them.

Some of the caravan's elder men had a stranger appearance than other elves Argyros had met before. Their eyes were a beautiful shade of purple; one that Argyros had never seen before, and that often made him feel befuddled, and a golden hair, even though they were already old. These elders were proud in their personality, some even arrogant, some humbler, but all were kind in every way.

After years of guarding the caravan, Argyros learned all of the secrets of this caravan: the purple-eyed people that were always hiding when the guards came around Galatean Kingdom, dressed in golden armor. Hemkor told him one night the truth; the purple-eyed and some of the blue-eyed people were descendants of Theians themselves. When the war had come and the city had disappeared, Theian inhabitants around the world were left with no hope. Hemkor, as a blue-eyed Half-Theian himself, stood up against the crimes of Galatea and, along with a few others, set up the Atherian Nomad caravan company, working as travelling circuses and various groups of entertainment, but their true intentions, to save remaining Theians from execution, was a well-hidden secret between the leaders. Some Theians, already old, sick or simply too arrogant to accept the help, offered their children to be raised in their company. Those that came along didn't live for long, since there was also a mysterious plague at the time, that wiped men slowly away, driving them insane through extreme periods of unending pain, until they finally died of purposeful starvation or inner organ damage. This disease was soon contained, but the company decided to take no risks for possible infections, and many villages were avoided for this reason. The children that were healthy, however, were happy, even in the hardest of times; they collected money through their own performances in the cities; some of the Theian children were even gifted in magic; they could make their veins glow, channel this energy in their blood to create fire, light, ice and manipulate air and objects. Their skills were minimal though; a candle could be lit by older children after a minute of concentration.

One of the children stood out, however; Theodora, an aspiring battle-mage girl of 15 years. The girl had long, brownish hair, and an eye so deep blue it sometimes seemed almost purple, and a friendly look. The one special thing on her face was the eye-patch, but it merely affected her beauty; it fitted in her face naturally. The story behind it was an arrow, shot by mercenaries after her family, according to Hemkor, who had been there when the child was carried to him by another commander Argyros couldn't recall.

The company had decided that the children were to be secured from their 'royal' ancestry and hide their magical capabilities, but this individual was powerful even for a pure Theian; even though Argyros knew she trained in secret, he had seen her light campfires with almost no difficulty. She had shown her wits by revealing the tricks of tricksters in towns, like hiding a fake card in your sleeve, then setting the boots of the cheat on fire, entertaining the crowd and getting extra money. Other children admired her, but as was she wise, she was also quiet; the Eurypon saying "The silent are the wisest, fools the loudest" was something Argyros had confirmed true in his days as a mercenary. Argyros thought Hemkor was a bit too harsh for her, often getting angry for her for getting too much attention, although unwittingly: she had deep purple eyes, a trademark of Theians, for which she wore hoods even in the warmest of days, as she was told to by Hemkor; but as was he harsh, was he also caring and loving for her, like a father. Argyros had though her to be his daughter in the first weeks, back when she was a baby. Of course that was unlikely, due to Hemkor being blue-eyed and not a pure Theian.

So there he was, once more travelling the green roads of Galatean Kingdom, where his service for the remnants of Theians had begun. Off to a nice start, they had contacted a group of deserters that tried to rob them not far from the borders. They had had an advantage, fighting downhill, but one of his mercenary comrades had gotten severely injured from the rusted axes of the deserters, lying on the healer's tent at this moment. Knight Omkos, a large Aesara, was guarding the other side of the camp, while Argyros watched the mountains in front of him. It was unlikely that anyone would come from that direction, although mountain bandits were infamous in this part of the world. He liked the slight tension that always traveled through his spine when guarding over the night, making him feel ready for anything. But he was also tired, and felt like sleeping on his horse the next day.

At some moment, he slipped into a kind of awake dreaming, started to feel like being on that arena again, with a bastard sword in hand and the large meorn with a huge axe in his hands, as the meorn started to rush towards him, he readied his weapon. As the meorn was almost five feet away from him, it stopped, stood up, bent it's head backwards and let out a weird sound; not like a war cry, but a... war horn?

At the fraction of a second, Argyros stood up from his chair and readied his spear, as a large light shone on his face. It took a while until he saw the source; an airship, one exclusive only to the Galatean army, flying over the mountains not far from them. It took a while for him to understand the situation, then alert the camp with his own war horn. As noise started come from the tents, the airship lowered it's ladders to the ground, and soldiers started coming from them in rapid rate. They didn't wear recognizable armor however; this armor was almost completely black, excluding a few golden ornaments, unlike completely golden Galatean armor. They formed an open line in front of Argyros, with spears behind and shieldmen on front, while other mercenaries of the camp started to gather next to Argyros. Before any time to plan, one of the men, a hooded one, probably a commander, shouted the advance command, and the soldiers started marching towards them.

"Argyros!" Knight Omkos had appeared, just in time, with a small object in his hand. He threw this object at the marching soldiers, followed by a huge explosion that tore a hole in the line. Argyros reacted. "Hold them back, men! Archers, shoot the spearmen, others, form shieldwall to protect archers." He turned to Omkos. "You've got to take the lead, now. I'll alert Hemkor and the others. May Gods guide you."

"There are no Gods on the battlefield, Commander" Omkos said with a wide grin as he threw another black bomb at the line. Argyros, being lightweight and agile, sprinted across the camp, to the Grandmaster's tent.

As he entered the tent, he saw Hemkor talking to that battle-mage girl. He stopped talking and turned to Argyros, speaking with his warm and comforting voice. "Argyros, my most trusted sword-waver" he said with his usual voice, "I guess we are under attack; could you tell me who?"

"I couldn't recognize. Black armor with golden ornaments, no house sigil, nothing. They came with an airship from the southern mountains. Your order?"

"My order? You're the commander, I'm an old man with a large stomach and some coins" he laughed. "But we happen to have people here that should be protected by any cost, and I presume this is not the best place to protect them. So, how about a nice little retreat, and take Theodora with you, and head west. Do not stop to look back, there'll probably be nothing left if you do. I'll take the younger children and head east, to the border and back to Betrest. I think these men won't follow us there."

"But why not take her with you too?" It was strange to talk about this girl in front of her, and it made no sense to make her go to the opposite direction that the others.

"There are preparations for her, so she needs to continue. No excuses, if you'd please, just obey. For the sake of her, her ancestors, this kingdom and it's future, and for my mental health. I've planned this for too long to fail now." Hemkor seemed too serious to be joking right now. so Argyros nodded, even though not understanding the reason.

"Wait, sir, what preparations?" The girl had a sonorous voice, filled with suspicion, but not fear, or not showing it. "If you've got some plans for me, then why not the others?"

"Theiadora, my sweet magic flower" Hemkor spoke with his sweet talking voice, seemingly annoying the girl. "You know pretty well that you, unlike the younger ones, have too much potential for living in secrecy. You'll understand later, like you have all these years. But trust no one, unless they know the answer. 'I'm an Atherian Nomad, herald of entertainment'..."

"...'And I welcome you, Nomad, home'. Yes, you told me that already, but what does that mean? Should I ask every stranger the same question to find a friend?"

"Rather not, that'd make you look weird. Just head to Castor, and head to the lord. Lord of Yagar might find some similarities in you" Hemkor answered. "Argyros, you should escort him there, then wait until one of Us comes. You're too much of worth to me", although Argyros knew that he knew too much to be able to leave. He nodded. "I understand."

"No, you don't. Now go, before our beloved sword-wavers get tired of waving. I'll help them by showing our enemy my little explosive collection" he made a big, childlike smile while opening a chest beneath his huge bed, revealing dozens of varying-sized bombs Omkos had used earlier. Argyros looked at Theodora, who understood instantly, walking to him. Together they exited the tent.

When they had gotten out, Theodora started asking immediately. "Are we really going to Castor? What is sir Hemkor planning?"

"I don't know, m'lady. Although I hope i would" he answered as the screams and explosions filled his ears. It was uncertain which side was winning, although Argyros had a bad feeling. "Come on, we must go, quickly."

"But what about my stuff? I need to fetch them before we are going anywhere!" she said. Argyros decided he wouldn't argue with a teenager. "Very well then, girl" he decided to put aside the m'lady, as it didn't seem to matter. They went to the children's tents, where some of them were already awake, with the elders calming them. "Master Hemkor will come soon, you need to search for him" he told to someone impatiently who was asking for assistance. He had to keep Theodora moving so she wouldn't stop and tell them she was going the other way... they had no time for obstacles.

As Theodora entered the tent to look for her stuff, Argyros saw colourful explosions near the battlefield, followed by explosions and commands being shouted. Between the tents, Argyros saw that the line of the black soldiers had broken; he heard Omkos shout something, but heard joy in his voice; he was one of the men that Argyros thought was born to the battlefield, feeling truly alive only in a good fight. More explosions followed as he turned to hurry Theodora, who then finished packing and stood up. They fled through the people, and Argyros saw Hemkor leading the line of old and young half-Theians and Theians, while throwing colourful bombs with the other hand and showing a thumbs up for them. They then entered the already-abandoned parts of the encampment.

Some of the explosions had caught fire with the tents, and they ran through the burning camp, covering their faces from heat. As Argyros was running, he wasn't sure where to go, until he suddenly collided into something. He fell onto the ground and almost fell unconscious, but as the mercenary he was, he was already alert in the next second.

What he had collided in was a tall, heavily armored soldier, dressed in black armor with golden ornaments. He had a massive bastard sword, which was almost the size of the spear Argyros was, and it was coming right at him. In the split of a second, Argyros would've been torn apart, if he wasn't fast enough to turn on his stomach, take his spear and stand up, only to crouch again when the sword swung again. He saw Theodora nearby, crouched and looking at the soldier in terror, while Argyros tried to dupe the soldier, making him throw an useless swing in the wrong direction. Argyros got to the back of the soldier, and thrusted his spear into his neck. For a moment, he thought he was successful, as he saw the spear sink into the neck, but the soldier simply turned around, hitting him in the face with his elbow. He felt the brittle bones of his face getting broken, and pain almost blinded him, but he thrust his spear deeper, and the soldier fell onto the ground.

As he stood there, trying to take note of his surroundings, and see where Theodora had gone, he felt a sharp pain on his chest. An arrow had pierced it, and blood was colouring his chainmail. As he fell on his knees, something grabbed his arm. A girl was there, with purple eyes. "Commander!" she shouted, but Argyros was unsure who she was screaming. Somewhere, deep in his consciousness, a thought escaped his lips. "Find your destiny, daughter of gods." He closed his eyes, dreaming about the mythical golden city of gods, that had disappeared in the brightest of lights long, long ago...

THE LAST THEIAN AND THE CLOCKWORK EMPIRE
A fantasy novel by Severi Boesen

Chapter 1: The Prince and the Duke
Prince Linus I Galateia rushed once again at the enemy, with adrenaline flowing in his veins, and the world seemed to slow down around him.

His opponents, each one armed with a shield and a practice sword, were already tired, and couldn't keep on with his movements. One tried to hit him, but Linus easily stepped aside, and hit his opponent with his sword, marking his victory over that one. He counted 4 more remaining: while two tried to form a line against him, the other two went around him, and he realized he was now trapped. The line of two men approached, but Linus retreated, taking one skirmisher down. The third one joined the line, and they marched towards him. He wasn't used to taking down whole lines at once, and decided he shouldn't just tire these down, so he ran right at them, kicked the middle one's shield hard enough so he fell, startling the others, then taking them down. The last one, lying on the ground, decided to surrender.

"Well, wasn't that quick" master Golmi said happily. Golmi was an old man, that couldn't stand without some aid, but he was once the Archgeneral Golmi that marched with 3000 men to take down Hypereides, the great fortress they were standing right now.

Prince Linus was a man of 17 years, with eyes the color of intense green and a agile build. He had a brown hair, cut to the same shape that Corinnian mestre-lords had. He thought it was good at both not being on his face during training, and was way better than a bald head, like Golmi would've preferred. Linus had lived his whole life at Hypereides, rarely leaving the great halls. His 'babysitter', Archduke Dragomir of Mirelands was a dull old poop he didn't like, as he was often mostly prohibit something from him, like going to the public part of the fortress, or playing with local kids. Of course, many nobleborn children had lived at Hypereides at some point, but these kids were all spoiled by their parents, and whined from such things as a pillow being too hard or guards marching too loudly. Linus thought he should be grateful towards the archduke for taking certain amenities away from him and raising him a bit humbler than many of lower born, but could rather treat him like a man instead of a stupid kid.

He'd rather have lived with his father, though; his father, King of Galatea, Tesmar V Galateia, was lying on bed, living his final days, as a mysterious disease had caught him years ago, making him physically powerless, though his mind remained crystal clear. Linus could remember when he'd have still sat on the Wyvern throne, giving orders. Nowadays that happened only in meetings, and even then king Tesmar would soon fall asleep or get back to his bed, as never-ending pain was always with him. Some days, Linus would sneak up to his father's chambers to talk to him, and that often clarified many things to him.

Arhcduke Dragomir, while not being in charge, often gave misleading orders in the name of his father, like demanding higher wages instead of higher payments. The archduke was, even according to his father, still corrupt, even after Tesmar had banished him into the Mirelands long, long ago.

Some years after Theian Genocide, Dragomir had been caught trying to poison the new king without a heir, so that he could've risen in power. For this, as Dragomir was Tesmar's old friend he had trusted, he did not kill the poor wreck, but instead banished him into the Pantaleon Republic, also known as the Mirelands, to live in exile until stated otherwise. During his exile, he was said to learn and study magic, known as thelisis by those who studied it; it's form, and it's harnessing. Thelisis was first used by the ancient Theians, in their mechanisms and artifacts. The little information Linus had about it was that it was, according to the oldest tomes translated by one of the arcane advisors, the source of life that could be found in blood. Theians were the only known race that could truly use this effectively, though; a Theian's blue blood could contain enough thelisis to actually make a difference, while regular blood of the Aesara for example couldn't be powerful enough without massive amounts. That is why the practice of thelisis is a taboo among the common folk and it's practicers, thelisomancers, were most of the time insane sadists or maniacs. Dragomir, who had apparently studied thelisomancery, didn't confess it and didn't practice it, at least what Linus knew. Although he probably would if he could.

After his long years of exile, king Tesmar had summoned him back to the realm to become his chief advisor and, later, Archduke, who had control over most of the cities after their primary rulers, at the brink of a civil war. All this could be accessed through enormous amount of sweet promises and impressive tricks of witchcraft from the swamps. How delightful, Linus thought, that a man who'd try to poison the king would later become his advisor. Upon questioning this, his father had said: "Linus, a man knows his close friends, he forgives their mistakes and remembers the good memories too. The chance for power could blind any of us, even to the rates of such lowly acts. But I know Dragomir, and if he's a fool, then he's a damn witty fool, if that'd be possible. He is the only man I know that could stop this nonsense talk about a rebellion among the people."

And that he had done, although with questionable acts. And there he was now, watching him now at the end of the stairs at the balcony, with a smile on his face that couldn't reach his cold, blue eyes.

"I see the Archduke's waiting for you" Golmi said, giving Linus back his stuff. The men he had practiced with formed back into an open line; the men were under training at Golmi's. "Run now, young prince. And remember, next time you'll get a more worthy enemy, assuming that these newbies will improve. ALRIGHT, TOWARDS THE BARRACKS, GO!" he turned and shouted to the line, which started marching to the gates of the castle, following them slowly afterwards. Linus turned around and approached the Archduke.

"I see your weapon skills have included, my prince" Dragomir told him, "and I hope they'll keep improving, if you ever think to become a king. You have a long way to catch your father's level."

"Yeah, I get it" Linus answered; he had learned that one should never expect flattery from Dragomir. "Why don't you show me how good you are, since you were my father's most trusted warrior, according to... yourself?"

"You'd be a fool to question me. And no, If you haven't noticed, I'm not the same slim, muscular boy I may have once been" He answered, with no fake smile anymore. "Your father's waiting for you."

Linus was astonished from this. "Wait, what? He... You... want me to go to him?"

"You think your sneaky jammings to your father have gone unnoticed? Yes, he asked me to ask you to come when you can."

I can just walk to him, isn't this new, Linus thought, but said "Yeah, I'll be doing that. I didn't know your massive nose could smell so clearly. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Before he could leave, the archduke grabbed almost forcefully his hand. Such were the powers of him that even though Linus was a grown, young man and clearly stronger than the old man, Dragomir had learned such tricks during his trip to the Mirelands: His talk was charming when needed, his grip was strong with mere willpower, his presence sometimes so terrifying lesser men dared to approach. Some of the servants had told stories of how heated meetings were instantly replaced with a fearful silence when the archduke spoke. Linus himself had sometimes trouble standing up against him.

"You ungrateful, sickly boy" the archduke said; Linus heard the cold tone of his voice, cold and sharp as steel. "You have no right to talk to me like that. You have no idea what I've gone through for you and your father." he let Linus go. "I say this only once. Do not make me regret sheltering you all these years, or you'll find yourself one day surrounded by enemies, and I will not be there. Go now, fly to your father."

He left the Archduke behind and walked down to the great hall, where the palace guards were dining at the moment; the great hall, grandest known feasting hall at the kingdom, had golden ornamented white pillars, a ceiling filled with marvelous paintings, depicting the founding, age, and finally disappearance of the Monolith, an ancient mysterious thing that had appeared to the Holiah Mountains at the beginning of times. He was used to threats from the archduke; he was uncertain if they were to be taken seriously. But now he didn't care, he was going to see his father with a full permission.

Among the soldiers sitting in the tables, he saw a familiar face. The tiny dwarf Soldo, owner of Soldo's Smithing Company, a grumpy-faced Aesarian with a short, brown beard and brown, suspicious eyes. Usually he looked like he'd just have swallowed a lemon, but around his group of workers and with a pint of mead in his stomach. He never left his axe; always sharpening it for possible fights he always talked his way out of them. When recognizing the prince, he hailed him. "I'll eat my beard, that's Linus! Come 'ere, I be havin' some news for ye!"

Linus went to him. "I'm in a hurry, but how are you, you little prick?" Soldo and Linus had, since Linus's childhood, had a relationship where one would never say anything nice to one another; Soldo's ways of greeting were usually "What's up, you lil' shit" or "Mornin', ye cuntfuck". Many words Linus didn't speak with Dragomir or his father were from him.

"Yer sword, my arrogant prince. The crates o' whitegold have arrived, and the inscriptions of ye olde blueblood folk came 'tis mornin'. Ye be havin' a good sword, lad. It'll be done in a few weeks, unless 'tis uneducated pack o' babies get lazy. But we'll be workin' hard, right men, since it's for the prince" he shouted to the people around him, who answered by cheering. "There, ye heard it. How've ye been, blonde boy?"

"Came from training. Old Golmi had a bunch of newcomers for me, so barely got warmed. I heard you've got alot of work, yet here you sit, drinking and feasting?"

"Aye, the work's harsh, and time's harsher" Soldo answered, "But nothin' raises the motivation like a good pint o' ale from yer father's chambers. No idea how it got so good down there. But weren't you in a hurry?"

Linus had almost forgot it. "Yeah, thanks for reminding. See you later, half-man!"

"Run along now, ye wannabe prince." Linus ran across the hall, hearing laugh behind him. He ascended the stairs that led to the royal quarters, ran next to the hall that'd lead to the Arcane Towers, then to the stairs that led to King's Tower.

The two guards, Gormig and Harrok were large, purple individuals of the Meorn race, with thick hair growing from beneath their shining armors. Both had large battleaxes and a shield; a meorn's strength was unchallenged throughout the land. They each greeted him formally when he passed through. They rarely spoke; Lius suspected Harrok didn't know a single word from their language, and Gormig only spoke when drunk and even then it sounded primitive and rough.

At the other side of the large door, was a great chamber full of colors and closets, bookcases, tables and different artifacts of many sorts. A sedative humming echoed around the room, and all other noise that would echo throughout the whole palace was left outside.

On the largest bed Linus had ever seen, under all the blankets and pillows, laid king Tesmar V Galateia. His gray beard stretched all the way to where his foot stood out under the blankets, and his eyes, shining golden, were closed. He was snoring, with an opened bottle of a calming potion next to the bed.

Linus approached carefully; but, as always, his father sensed his presence, opening his eyes and growing a smile. "So, you got the message after all."

Linus sat down on the edge of the bed. "Yes, I did. I haven't seen or heard of you for so long time, how are you feeling?"

Tesmar coughed. "Could be better. I've slowly learned to fight the disease, at least to distinguish reality and all the dreams I'm having. I've already had this conversation with you perhaps 3 times."

It sounded too normal even when he said it, but Linus still felt pity on his father. He smiled. "Well, you're prepared, at least."

"That's true. Now then, before I can't stay awake anymore, we'll get to the point. Do you know why i summoned you?"

Linus thought about it. "I have no idea."

His father grinned; perhaps from pain. "The truth is, that soon I'll stay asleep for good. And I feel it getting closer. That doesn't only mean that you'll become the king, but you'll have to be ready when that moment comes. There are people who are, or will be, against you, and will try to overthrow you. Perhaps my... impatience against those Theians was... ill-advised."

"If you are talking about Archduke Dragomir, then out with it." Linus didn't mean to say it that straight, but his concerns woke up at the moment his father mentioned those people.

Surprisingly, his father smiled. "You're not a fool, I see. Dragomir is my old friend, not only clever, but without him we'd be long dead. He knows how to manage the people in dark times. Many conversations I've had with him, and he promises me that no intentions are hid from us... but I cannot read minds, mortal I am, and I'm not only talking about him."

"What would you want me to do? I could always go and show myself to the people."

"That one thing you need to do. But not all" his father grabbed his hand. "Those... blueblood folk, Theians. I've heard rumors, not only from Dragomir... certain groups have been seen, purple-eyed children have been reported around. Might just be gossip, but gossips could lead to unwanted rebellions. My point is, that when you'll become the king, do not, for the kingdom's sake, make an enemy out of the people. The people are the kingdom, not the king, which I didn't learn until these final years. Do not repeat the mistakes. If those children are true, they should be aided. Their race is powerful, and something this world is not ready to lose. They need to be saved. Promise me, Linus."

From all his father had said in the past years, this was the most bizarre. Every time he had visited him, he would preach about the evil nature of Theians, how they were gone for good... and now this? To save children that might not even exist? "I understand" he said, although he didn't.

His father smiled, again. "No, you don't. This kingdom depends on those remnants. You might not understand now, but you will... just follow my wish." Tesmar's eyes started to slip. Linus knew it was time to go.

"I will, father. I'll not betray you." He sat up.

"Thank you, Linus. Now be a good boy... save the children... be a king... I'll take... a nap..."

Upon exiting the chambers, Linus's head was full of questions unanswered. To save the children of those his father had taught him to hate? His sense of rationality had always thought Theians couldn't be entirely evil, but all he had heard for the past moments turned his perspectives upside down. And the fact that his father would soon pass away... he would be all alone, a young man ruling a kingdom. What's the worst that could happen?

Chapter 2: Run for the Hills
The hills of Yothre plains stood in front of her. The forest had finally ended.

After a night full of running nonstop through the dark forest, fearing stopping because of possible breakdowns, Theiadora fell to the ground as she looked at the open, wide grassland. Her legs hurt, her mind slipped from dreaming to reality and back again, and her eyes were red from crying. She had scratches everywhere, and her cape was done for. Her bag was barely keeping itself from falling apart; all this, and no sadness was left for her. Not after the horrors of the night.

She faintly remembered how the guards had chased her for many horrifying moments, shouting for her to stop and surrender. For a moment, she had thought about hiding, but she was too terrified to stop; her legs had taken her away from everything with no extra thought.

Those few moments she stopped, the forest seemed to gather around her; when not moving, her senses became sharper, and she started to hear breaking branches and even faint growls from a distance. She had seen it; a shadow, following her in the dead of night. It had stopped when she had, looking at her from a distance. Twice had she seen two white, round and shining eyes glowing not far away. That was what made her continue running. And the nightmare followed her; she heard trees being distorted as the horrifying being followed her all the way to the end of the forest.

When the forest ended, the beast disappeared too, and the sun had it's first rays spread on the plains. It was cold, and morning dew covered the grass, making it slippery. Her clothes were wet too, but she was quite warm from all the running, although her limbs were stiffened.

As she laid on the grass, she though how Hemkor had called her in the middle of the night, how she had woken up to an unknown war horn echoing through the forest. All that Hemkor had told her made no sense, to send her away from everyone else because she was special. It sounded so weird that Theodora had though this was another one of Hemkor's jokes at bad situations. But there she was, alone, going to the opposite direction, leaving everything behind.

Since her childhood, she had been taken care by the Atherian Nomads: a company of varying entertainment (she was lucky that she got to a circus) that travelled through lands, taking no part in wars, a neutral group of caravans that served the people. They were renowned for their skills and cheerful shows, and every ruler of the continent were acceptable towards them, being more of use than a handicap. All they asked was small donations and food from the landowners; they got plenty of both, usually, but sometimes they were driven out by swords and lances. There were no deaths usually, either; the only deaths happened on the roads, when an occasional group of bandits or a disease caught the caravan. But it had both skilled mercenaries and wise masters, neither were a large problem.

Theiadora, also known as Theo and Theodora by outsiders because of her uncommon name, was a 16-year old Half-Theian girl with a long, silky brown hair that got blonder from the root, and that always landed on her right side from the parting from the left side of her head, giving the illusion she had spent a lot of time for her hair, which she, in fact, didn't need to do; she had large, deep blue eyes that seemed almost purple in right conditions. Or eye, actually; her left eye was covered with an eye-patch mostly out of habit, partly because she looked horrifying without it. It was a great way to scare off drunken strangers sometimes. She had always been kinda fond with it, unlike many thought. She had a faint memory of how she had lost her eye; fire everywhere, people fleeing, a shouting man, another Atherian commander by the name Orkmeodos, who had later died to his wounds while saving her and some of the other children.

She sat on the grass, looking at the sunrise with dreamy eyes, Everything seemed blur through here one eye, as she had cried all night, but now her eye was dried up. She took off her eye-patch as it chafed her skin, and laid down on the grass, sleep slowly taking over her thoughts. She had no idea how to get to Castor, she had no idea when or what she would eat, or where to sleep safely.

She dreamed about a man with wings. The man was handsome, and had a short hair that was tied up from the back of his head, but his eyes were red as fire, and seemed to slowly whirl around his pupil like a river of molten rock. The man grabbed her and flew high to the skies. "Who are you, and where are you taking me?" she asked, fearing the man would drop her.

"I am an angel, girl. Do you deserve the heaven we've prepared for you?" the man asked him looking at her with those fiery eyes. She thought about her past; had she been good and righteous or mean and sneaky? She had revealed the fakers that had tried to collect money on the streets through cheap tricks. She had once pushed a man to a river when the man refused to pay her upon showing him a levitating rock. She had lighted a guard's tabard on fire when the guard had denied her access to a richer part of a town because of her common clothing. "Do you think I deserve that heaven?" she asked the man. The man looked at him, and she felt how he delved right to her soul, seeing all her acts and thoughts. His eyes are beautiful, she thought.

But the man didn't smile. "You are not evil, Theiadora. But you must learn your roots and accept them humbly, and not to let a coming greediness devour you. Then, I shall answer your question." And so he dropped her, and she fell through the clouds...

She woke up to something poking her leg. The first thing she realized was that it was midday, since sun shone right in her face. Secondly, she realized that she was surrounded by men in leather armor and robes. Thirdly, she realized that she wasn't probably a beautiful sight; her eye-patch was still in her hand.

A voice of a man spoke. "Yo, girl. Stand up. We need to talk to you." The voice was smooth, and the speaker seemed friendly, although a sense of coarseness could be sensed in his voice. As Theiadora stood up, the men she was surrounded by all turned out to have bows, and the speaker was the only man without a hood; a man with a long, sharp face and a black, silky long hair and green eyes. First thought that came to her mind was that this man seemed like a combination of a thief, an assassin, and a sneaky merchant, something slightly resembling Hemkor. The man was half-smiling; his other half of the face showed that friendliness his voice had, but the left side seemed paralyzed. Theiadora noticed two scars running down the cheek.

"Who are you and what do you want?" she blurted out accidentally, as she didn't mean to rush in the conversation. The man smirked. "To you, we are mere forest bandits. That is all you need to know. But we are not here to rob you, since you clearly aren't the royal lady we've been waiting for. Let me ask you, why in all the hells are you lying on the grass so close to both the forest and the road? Perhaps you haven't noticed, but roads here are dangerous, and the 'cuties' as we call them will eat anything that has meat in it. You were chased down by one, according to the signs we followed here."

She took a while to clear out her thoughts. "Yeah, I was chased down by something during the night." It seemed clear these men weren't going to harm her, so she could just ask help from them anyway. "Can you point me to Castor, by any chance?"

The men had a small laughter. The black-haired man smiled, or the other half of his face at least. "My lady, Castor isn't anywhere nearby. I don't see a horse nearby, neither did you have anything much of a worth in your bag. How did you think you'll get to Castor, by walking? That'll take a while."

Another obstacle; she had no idea how far away Castor was. Then again, she was upset. "You went through my stuff?!" The man smirked. "My lady has a lot of books, and books are not of worth here. All that matters is money" he said as he showed her a small purse; her purse. "Give it back" she said.

"My lady, you don't seem to get the point" he laughed. "We are bandits. We don't respect your fine morals. But, if you want to earn your money back, and perhaps a horse later, you should follow us. There's always space for newcomers, if you can handle yourself."

The offer surprised her. Her mind was a bit blurry from being so hungry, as she realized it, but she also realized that she'd need help, a shelter, anything. "Can you help me? How?" As the black-haired man about to answer, another one behind him spoke instead of him. "You'll join us. Can you hunt? Help us, hunt for us, warm our beds perhaps if nothing else. We are free men, but dogs we are not." The speaker was now a bearded man, with blue eyes and a grey hood that matched his grey leather robes that had an armguard on the right hand, depicting an open mouth of a wolf. "We'll help you get on your feet, but you'll need to repay the favor. If not, well forget our manners." It didn't seem like a threat to her, but she had always been suspicious on offers from men she didn't know.

Where else could she go, anyway? She was tired, hungry, and in need of a cleanup. She was alone, with no-one to help her, and she couldn't fight against a pack of armed men. "Alright, I'll come with you."

The black-haired man half-smiled, and the bearded man came closer to her. "Welcome to Darkwood Wolves, my lady. Are you ready to go? We'll get to the camp where you'll get food and sleep, and a place to clean up." He offered a hand to her, on which she grabbed on and stood up painfully and her vision blurred again. "May I ask who you are?" he asked.

She answered with the first thought that came to her mind. "I'm an Atherian Nomad, a herald of entertainment."

The black-haired man was startled. "A nomad?!" he came even closer to her, grabbed her face and inspected her eye. She couldn't read anything about his face, until suddenly a sense of realization filled his face. Then he let go, and turned around. "Roggvir, this is urgent. We need to get to the camp as soon as possible. I'll be in responsibility of this girl from now on, and shall no-one lay a finger on her without my permission." He lowered his voice, and only Theiadora and the bearded man heard what he added, "This girl is far more important than what we were waiting for, I'll explain when we get back."

The bearded man, apparently Roggvir, glanced at her for a while, the looked at the man again. "If this is one of your sick tricks, I'll make sure you'll pay for it. Alright men, let's get back to the camp!" he announced, and the men started to ready for travelling. Theiadora could barely stand from all the sleepiness, but as the man named Roggvir gave orders to the men, the black-haired man approached her again. "My name is Tredian" he said, now with a friendly face again, "and I know what you are. I'll make sure you get to Castor, my lady."

Theiadora couldn't make any sense from his talk, but she simply nodded. "Can you help me? I can't walk." Her head started to hurt, and the blurry vision came again. A ringing went through her ears.

She wasn't sure what happened afterwards. Her next memory was that she was being carried by someone deep in the forest, with men everywhere around her, on the ground and on the trees. She heard all the conversations, but couldn't make any sense about them, and soon they mixed up with her thoughts giving her strange awake-dreams. Then she remembered being laid down to a comfy place and that's where she passed out completely. She was cold, and a tingling feel passed through her continuously.

Next time she woke up, it was dark, with a single torch lit in a nearby wall. She took a quick note of her surroundings; the sun was either down, or she was somewhere the sun didn't reach. The walls were made up of wood. Upon closer inspection, the torch turned out to be a handle for a glowing stone of some sort. There was a single window, but she couldn't see anything outside. There was a piece of bread and a cup of water nearby; she ate it with a good appetite. She wasn't cold anymore, so she decided to stand up for a moment. Upon standing off, she realized that her clothes were changed. She had a green shirt with laced pants. Then she realized her eye-patch was off again; it was in a nearby nightstand. She put it on, and stepped outside.

It was colder there, but she also saw more now. She was on a tree, very high; she could not see the ground. The room she had been in was in a hollowed tree, and many others were located around her, inside and outside the trees. It was a magical sight, something she hadn't seen before. There were people walking around from tree to another through wooden bridges, but no-one didn't seem to realize her, until a person approached the tree she was in. Upon seeing her, the person was seemingly surprised, as he or she approached her faster.

"You're awake, finally." the voice was of a womans; a sweet, gentle voice. It was too dark for her to see her, but long hair could still be identified. "You've been down for days now."

"Days?" that surprised her, too; had she been asleep for days since the strange events of that day? "Where am I? Who are you?" Asking was in her nature; curiosity was both a good and a bad habit for her.

"I am Lynsar. You are in the Darkwood Grove, a secluded place for the Wolves of this forest. Come, follow me." she turned around, giving her a sign with her hand to follow. She obliged.

Lynsar descended through many bridges and some ladders, and Theiadora followed. Lynsar seemed like a dutiful person, but also a talkative one. Theo had so many questions again, but she thought about what she could ask safely as they walked from tree to another, round and then down again. "Where are you taking me?"

Lynsar took a glance at her, with slightly weird look. Was it pity? "To my master and the leader of the Wolves. I know you have many questions, but I am a slave, so I may not be permitted to tell you. But you will get your answers soon."

Theo was surprised upon learning this woman is a slave. She had heard of slavery still being common in some northern parts of Gerontas, but since the war against Theian Empire, the new rule had established laws that prohibited brutal methods used earlier on slaves. In the dark, though, she could clearly see scars on Lynsar's back, and a brand on her arm, resembling the shape of a wolf's head.

Suddenly they entered the ground floor. Theo had not seen the ground from above until she felt the grass on her bare feet. There were campfires and some people sitting near them, and Theo could hear singing from somewhere nearby. Lynsar, however, led her into the darkness, carrying a single torch. They went forward crouching for a few moments, and Theo started to wonder where she was being taken, until the bushes finally ended, and she was presented by a dreamlike view.

They were standing near a steep canyon of sorts, with a steaming hot spring located near the cliff. On the other side, she could see a great mountain rise up through the clouds; they seemed to be pretty far down, perhaps in a valley of some kind. Near the pond, there were two men talking in low voices. They stopped upon seeing the girls. Theo recognized the other man, black-haired Tredian, now wearing a green shirt and laced pants instead of armor. The other man was a hooded, bearded and, judging his size and shape, old as hell. He was leaning towards a staff with a glimmering stone on it that seemed to reflect the tiniest bits of lights that reached it. Theiadora's first thought of this man was incredibly powerful, despite his age and size.

Tredian approached them as the old man still stood in a short distance. "Lord Ravos is ready to meet our honored guest. Lynsar, your master told me that you shall join our feast tonight. Will you honor us?" Lynsar seemed to blush in the dark, as her cheeks gained a darker tone, and simply nodded. Tredian turned to look at Theiadora. "My lady, it is good to know you've made it. Our healer knows more about the magic of herbs than anyone else, and your sickness, long and painful if not treated right, went away in these few days. Master Ravos would now want to speak to you."

"Thank you." She started to approach the old man as Tredian and Lynsar disappeared in the bushes. The man's robes were green and white, and his hood covered his eyes. He swirled the water slowly with his staff, and the disturbances made the water fume even more from that place.

Finally, he turned to look at Theo. Taking away his hood, his face seemed like it was masterfully carved out of wood; the shape was noble and his eyes clear as solid ice, and a certain presence could be continuously felt deep in them. When he spoke, his voice was calming, deep and sonorous. "So, I finally am able to meet you in person. Our honored guest Theiadora, the Atherian Nomad" he slowly bent his head a bit. Theo didn't understand all this hassle about her being a 'honored guest'. "How am I of honor to you?"

The old man laughed. "Oh, I think you already know. I bet you can do things they call magic?" he said. It seemed like a signal for her to show him what she could do, so Theiadora took the chance as the man watched at him expectfully. She had not practised for a while, since all the recent events and all the hurrying since their crossing through the borders. Her mind was still a bit messy about all those things, but meditation was a skill she had always handled well. Clearing her mind in a few exhales, she focused her mind on the water beside her. What had Hemkor told her just a few months ago? ''Liquids, such as water, they are the true essence of life. They have a balance, a peace, that us mortals cannot understand. Tap into that peace, that balance, and feel the water being a part of you, an extension of your body.'' Slowly she raised her hand upon the pond, and, even though eyes closed, she could hear the water moving in front of her. Then she had to let go, as these practices took most of her energy out. But the man was pleased, as he clapped his hands a few times. "Bravo, my child. You truly are one of them. I haven't seen that kind of eyes in a long, long time."

"What do you mean? What about my eyes?" she asked. Although she thought she already knew. A slight intuitive thought that had always bothered her upon thinking about her past..

The man looked at her intensely. "Your purple eyes. Or are they violet? They're Theian eyes, no doubt. My mother had those eyes, and that's what cost her her life. And we have a lot to talk about before you can safely go to Castor."

Chapter 3: A Ranger's Ways
And so the days passed. Theiadora lived at the room atop the trees she had woken up in, and she was provided the minimum amount of food she needed, no more. The Darkwood Grove and it's Wolves turned out to be kind towards her, though in the next days she learned that the most of the respect towards her was because of her 'protector', the man Tredian. Tredian was a second-in-command of the Wolves, a talented fighter with a mysterious past. She was supposed to stay close to him at all times, which turned out to be slightly difficult, because he often went on his business quickly. He trained 3 times a day, each time a different weapon: a one-handed sword in the morning, a two-handed claymore in the afternoon and in the evening, spears and then bows. Tredian told him that he practiced bows in the dark because it sharpened his eyesight; he could easily hit a moving target Theo barely noticed in the bushes. Most of the folk ate at the same time, and the food mostly consisted of smaller animals, various stews and vegetables. The amount of food was apparently dependant of the eater's rank, but everyone got the amount an average man needed. There was beer and water, and a weird-tasting juice of some sort the elder men such as lord Ravos himself drank during the breaks with a good appetite.

Lord Ravos was an enigmatic man and a leader: he reminded Theo of some of the old men back at the caravan. His blue eyes seemed to continually scan the environment, and his reflexes and wits were quicker than it seemed from the outside; he could somehow sense people behind him, and seemed to read thoughts when Theo listened to his conversations. The rank of a lord was given to him because, according to Tredian, the Grove they were at was once, below the treetops, part of a Theian stronghold lost long ago in the ancient disasters. The only place Theo had visited the ground was where she had first met Ravos, and that was also the entrance to the Grove. Even when sunlight breached the leaves there, she still couldn't see any details from the ground level. It seemed like the place was shrouded in some kind of a black mist.

On the fourth day of her time there, she asked Tredian about this. "The ruins do not show themselves often" he replied. "Sometimes, during windy storms, one can see the outlines of the great temples underneath us when lightning strikes. I have seem them a few times, and someday, I will visit them. Lord Ravos tells me that we will excavate the great halls soon." It was afternoon, and almost time for the second training. Unlike before, this time Tredian asked Theo to follow him to the grounds, not to stand aside.

When they came to the weapon barracks, Tredian didn't go to the two-handed weapons stand, but instead grabbed two short-swords. He offered Theo the other one, a little bit longer. "Are you making me fight you?" She asked, suddenly a bit scared. Tredian seemed to easily knock off any other opponents in the Grove.

But he laughed. "You don't need to fear me, lady" he answered. "I will not hurt you. Besides, Ravos himself wanted me to... test your skills. Now, raise your sword" he said as he raised his. Slowly and hesitantly Theiadora raised her own sword, and in the blink of an eye Tredian's sword clashed with hers. She was just quick enough to harden her grip. Before she could actually realize it, she had blocked the second attack as her instincts took control. Tredian landed somewhat careful blows on her continuously, making her back up slowly, with a sly smile on his face. He, unlike Theo, did seem to enjoy the situation, and Theo was merely amazed that she was capable of blocking a single strike. She then tried to jump to Tredian's left side to take some point of control, but he simply whirled around and continued assaulting. She couldn't even gather the strength to fight back.

"I thought you're a mage" he said, speaking in a manner others would talk about weather with. The statement was ridiculous, Theo thought, because what could he manage to accomplish in a situation like this? He could try to concentrate enough to create a small flame on him, but she could end up injuring him badly. "Come on, use your sword atleast, if not your spells" he kept tempting. She had created small wind before, but that wouldn't even make him flinch. If there had been water, freezing it around his arm would have done the trick. But all that needed concentration she did not have time for, as blow after blow landed on her blade. Maybe if she could manipulate the blade somehow...

She blocked a strike more forcefully, causing the combat to stop for a second. She gathered all her willpower to push Tredian's short-sword to the side, tried to channel the energy in her veins. Time seemed to slow down as she could feel power rising up in her arms, then swung the sword.

Tredian's sword flew a few feet away from where they stood. His grip of the sword made him to get unbalanced, and in surprise, Theo raised her sword, pointing it at his face. The ranger looked at him, amusement in his face.

"Well wasn't that quite a trick, I didn't know you've got the blood of giants in your veins. Not many have done that, to me atleast!" He stood up, and walked to his sword to pick it up. Theiadora was surprised herself too; she had not actually expected that to work. These were the kind of methods she had found not-so-useful; channelling thelisis to increase physical strength and endurance.

Tredian walked up to pick his sword up. "That was enough. Ravos said he'd need to have proof of your abilities. Come now, girl, the Lord wants to meet with you." As they walked across the bridges high up in the trees, Theo came up with a question. "How long until I can take my leave? I was in a hurry before I came here."

Tredian laughed. "You weren't, apparently, lying on the grass like no worry of tomorrow. And you'll get to leave when Ravos says so. That's why we're going to meet him; so that you can ask your questions."

When they finally approached the old man on the grove, Ravos was playing some sort of a board game with another elder. The other elder had long beard, dyed black from only the right side, and his skin was pale and his eyes bright red. A Boreakhis. Upon seeing Tredian and Theo, Ravos slowly improved his posture on the chair. "Ah, finally. Pokkon, we'll continue later." The elder Pokkon stood up, nodding his head to Ravos and the two, then disappearing into the bushes. Tredian took his chair without hesitation. "So, my Lord, what's on your mind?"

Lord Ravos smiled. "We'll get into that soon. First, tell me the results."

"Yeah, I saw it. The girl suddenly got a strength of a bear. On purpose, right?" Tredian turned to Theo.

"Yeah right." Theo answered. "Lord Ravos, you already saw me using my abilties. Why do it again?"

Ravos kept smiling. "I have studied thelisis more than you can imagine, child. I have uncovered everything your kind discovered, and I know how it works. You didn't expect to achieve such strength?"

"Well.. no" Theo answered, as he sat on the remaining chair around the table.

Ravos nodded. "You are a pure Theian, so your abilities are already on the level the rest of us have to practice for several decades. It is possible to achieve even higher levels of power on certain conditions, however. Theian battlemages were known for their unmatched skills at battle. That is because, when you're at the heat of battle, your blood flows faster, allowing more thelisis to be focused faster on certain parts. This wasn't discovered until the late millennium, a century before the genocide, and it wasn't a great discovery back then, but it is the key some of us common races can wield thelisis and use it, even to the smallest of extent.