Eden, Saga 1: War of the Magi

Can you wake up now? Seriously, Greimrich is really distressed with you waking up so late. Hey, are you even listening to me Marrh?!

Violet colored eyes snapped open to stare numbly at his awaker. "I understand perfectly Adonia. Do you feel the need to wake me from a short nap? I told father I would be up soon. Not like I'm wasting time or anything." Marrh sighed, picking the leaves out of his red hair. They seemed to get caught every time in there. He briefly glanced up at the woman dressed in all white, sunshine colored hair threatening to blind him when combined with the sun.


"Get up to it mister!" Adonia tapped her feet. Sheesh, why did Greimrich assign her to be his caretaker? 

"I'm up, I'm up." Marrh closed his eyes. He stood up a few seconds later with a great heave. He wasn't lazy really, just tired. He brushed past his sister and entered the lavish halls of the church. A few sharp turns here and there and he found an aged man with balding hair and a very chest length beard. "Aha! Your here my boy." Greimrich cried, standing up as quickly as he could. 

Marrh watched in pity as the man nearly tripped over his golden robes with a symbol of six stars in the back, each naming the six divines. "Please slow down father." A smile tugging at his lips.

Greimrich took a moment to catch his breath. "The time...has come... For you to... Get a Magistine. I've prepared you for this day." The Pope breathed heavily.

If something dropped, it would be the jaw of an astonished youth.

Tap, Tap. The man's boots echo on the cold granite floor, almost in rhythm with the tapping of his old gray staff. Tap, tap. Long burgundy robes flow behind him, creating a truly imposing sight for a truly imposing man. The man is tall, and his eyes gleam with the knowledge of the ancients. Said orbs peer out from a shroud, a shroud of the blackest night, obscuring the remainder of his face. In his free hand, he wields the power of the Vast, a vast, ever-reaching darkness, marked with a ghastly scar, shaped in the form of a terrifying scythe.

Tap, Tap. The grand obsidian doors part for him, as winter parts for spring, revealing a round table, in a room of darkness. Only one seat at this eery table remains, this table of wood and bone. The seat, like the man, is unnaturally tall, and has the body of a throne, rather than a normal seat. He sits, in this throne of bone, and his gloved hands come to rest on the Skulls of Dragons. He speaks, and the world trembles, but his mouth does not move.

Judge Balthazar, why have you summoned the Court on this hour?

The one called Balthazar, the robed man to his right, lowers his head in subservience. "My Master, pardon my insolence. The last grain of sand has fallen, and at long last, the Wheel is turning. My many eyes have reported of wonders in the world below, wonders that have not been seen for an age. All signs point to the Turning, that it is at last time for us to emerge from hiding. Again, I beg your forgiveness Master, but my impatience grew too much for me to withstand. What are your orders? We have waited so long for this day."

The man in the throne gives a wistful sigh, which, in his raspy voice, is as earsplitting as a legion of rusty nails grinding on stone. Yes, I do suppose you are correct... Though had you more patience, I would have called the Court to Session myself. But you are forgiven, my son... I understand your excitement. I shall place you in charge of the affairs below, Balthazar. Gather the actors. The time has arrived to raise the curtain, upon this Age of Ruin.

Balthazar leaps to his feet, like a child who had just been granted his favorite toy, and he gives a wide, sweeping bow. "I shall not fail you, my Master. I will begin preparations for your Coming at once."

He smiles, and as the one called Balthazar vanishes in a cloud of smoke, the man in the throne quietly taps his staff on the cold floor. It is merely a soft tap, but it is enough to send ripples across the Cosmos. The other Judges bow and take their leave, until only he remains. Yes... Tomorrow will be an interesting dawn, a sunrise that has not been felt in untold centuries... The mortal world, the Divine Plane and beyond, all shall feel the heat, the warmth of that glistening dawn... And at last, I too shall bask in that wondrous heat...

Death leans back in his throne, and he smiles. He smiles.

Thwack. Thwack. Fingers tapped on the oak table with fierce speed. The hands belonged to a very important figure, Athena, third Grand Duke of the Ragnarok dukedom. The figure was without a doubt a woman. A woman clad in the darkest of light armor that had currently ever been known. A strap ran itself from her left shoulder to her right hip, carrying a bow forged of the most durable metal around.

Said things belonged Athena, black eyes and the same colored hair. 5'1 was the height most would describe her as, much to her chagrin. It was one of the few things that made her angry. Besides her frail looking appearance that was. Athena frowned, she was wishing for one of her best mages, if not the best in her division, Teak. A remarkable woman that was just as dedicated to the job as she. A small smile found itself on her lips. The girl was similar to a daughter to her, not that she would ever admit that to anyone.

A brief glance out the windows of the eastern wing alerted to her the time of the day, near afternoon. A friendly greeting wasn't what she wanted. No, business would need to be conducted efficiently and quickly. Greimrich was starting to tear her walls of patience down with his requests for...
Athena snapped from her thoughts as the sounds of familar footsteps approached. She was here, excellent.

Entering her mistress' chambers Teak stops and makes a formal bow. Though her face didn't show it, she was troubled as to why her mistress had summoned her at such an unusual time.
As she rose from the bow she addressed the powerful woman on the other side of the room, "Milady I have come as you requested. Might I ask what you need of me today?"

"If it is your wish milady, I will see it done." Teak replies with fervor. "If I may ask, when must I set out to accompany the Popes ward? And which way-stone has been selected for this quest?" Teak asks calmly. She has always believed in knowing as much as possible about a situation before entering it.

"Of course milady." Teak replies sheepishly. Then stepping out of the embrace, "With your leave I shall fetch my insignia blazoned shield and traveling bag from my quarters, then I shall make for the stables and venture forth to the Pope's estate." Teak adds reclaiming a stoic air.

"I will bathe on arrival. The journey would undo a bath any way." Teak states jovially with a bow. Then as she exits, she turns, "farewell milady." She states wistfully as she turns down the hall.

Damn that old geezer! Where does he get off?!

Val slams his fist into the sand beside him, hard enough to kick up a miniature sandstorm.Telling me I'm not ready... It just ain't right.

He heaves a heavy sigh, leaning back against the broken log, staring up at the harsh desert Sun above. The heat didn't really bother him anymore, and oddly enough, neither does the stench. His giant sword lay only a couple feet away, just within reach, and an even larger Fire Lizard lies just beside him, on the opposite side. A very dead lizard, hence the stench.

"Well damn," Val grumbles, his voice a bit muffled by the small stick of bamboo he's been chewing for the past hour. He briefly glances over at the dead lizard, patting it gently on the snout. "Looks like it's just you and me, buddy."

The lizard peers at him with accusing, large white eyeballs, and Val grunts. "Eh? Don't look at me like that. It ain't my fault you were as weak as a newborn babe. Cycle of life, friend. I ain't gonna apologize for that."

Groaning, he rises to his feet and stretches, letting the blood flow back through his weary limbs. Well, now that he's a bit calmer, he better go see the old man. "Damn old geezer... Why the bloody hell do I put up with him?"

Val grabs his greatsword, and with a surprising amount of strength that borders on the supernatural, he effortlessly slings the massive blade into the air and slides it into the large brown leather sheath strapped across his back. He then grabs the lizard by the tail, and proceeds to stalk through the desert, easily dragging the beast behind him. He heads northwest across the desert, back towards the town, unswayed by the merciless heat. One way or another, I'll make the geezer tell me where the Waystone is. Damn old fool...

However, it soon becomes apparent the all-loving universe had other plans. Not halfway there, his path is blocked by a group of Sand Raiders. Four of them, to be exact. "Hey there, lad! Fancy some help there? That kill looks awfully large, for one lad."

Val openly scoffs. Sand Raiders. Nothing but scavengers with fancy names, and breachers far too big for them. "Piss off," he grumbles, continuing to casually chew on his favorite snack.

"Eh, what's that boy? Couldn't quite hear ya over the wind."

"I said... PISS OFF!!!"

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A few minutes later, Val sits on the damp sand, cleaning his blade. Along with his catch, he now has some crude armor and weapons to sell, along with four wide eyed prisoners. He looks over at the large dead lizard laying beside him, who continues to stare blankly at him. "What do you think? Shall I let them go?"

The lizard, thankfully, doesn't answer.

Marrh looked up at the sound of a feminine voice. He nervously shifted as the woman who called herself Teak asked for entrance. He scratched his head as the name sounded familiar. "I'm Marrh, and to get entrance into the church means I would have to notify the priestess and bishops of your arrival here at the church. My father is pretty busy." He answered curtly, unable to defeat the nagging feeling at the back of his head.

He looked up to meet her eyes.