Chapter 1: Awakening

Heavy boots pounded the grass into the dirt, leaping across reaching roots and crushing ferns underfoot. Further back, three more foot steps frantically followed. One of them stopped, drawing a short bow. As the string was pulled back, numerous runes began to glow along the handle.

An arrow flew past the young adventurer’s face, the ignited tip lodging into a tree right in front of her.

“Where’d a lousy adventurer like you find a bow like that?”

Immediately the bandit started to sprint again. “Stay still and I’ll tell you!”

Wyn braced her boots against a massive root, immediately halting her momentum. The bandits, on the other hand, were much less graceful. Unable to fully halt, they tumbled over the root.

“Alright, I’ve stopped! So—”

The largest bandit does a simple roll, righting himself before launching himself at Wyn. A simple sidestep and the bandit goes tumbling past once again. All three climbed to their feet, encircling the girl. Wyn stared at the circle of blades, and simply smiled.

“You know, isn’t this a bit overkill just to rob one girl?”

The large bandit laughed. “Please. Overkill? Once we turn you in, we’d be set for life! We’ll be able to buy a mansion in Emijilucan!”

“Please, what kind of bounty could take someone from the middle of nowhere to the capital?”

In response, the third bandit unfurled a rolled up piece of paper from a pouch on his side. Not a wanted poster, but a missing person. Long blond hair, braided and straight along her back. An ornate, regal dress that she felt was way too garish. Princess Wynaveyve Emjragard. 10,000,000 Guls for safe return.

“Now don’t this look just like ya?” The bandit with the paper asked.

Wyn just stared at the wanted poster, featuring the girl who looked just like her.

“So… they’ve even reached here, huh…” Wyn clutched her chin in a hand. “Say, how many more posters were there?”

“Huh? Just the one that I saw, I guess. Don’t worry, we don’t plan on sharing this bounty with anyone else!” The bandit let out a guffaw at his terrible joke.

“Right, well — as long as no one else knows!”

She rushed the bandit. Before he could react, she snatched the poster from his hand, and sprinted off.

“Wait— don’t tell me that’s actually you?”

“No one will ever believe you!” Her voice trailed off as she disappeared into the forest.

By the time Wyn’s put enough distance between her and her pursuers, the sun had begun to set. The orange pink sky was barely visible above the dense canopy, with piercing beams of fiery orange being the only indicator of the passage of time. Wyn would have double backed by now, if it wasn’t for the small discovery she had uncovered there.

A decrepit cathedral, long since past its days of glory, lay alone in the forest. Its tall walls have long since crumbled, withered away in the winds of time, any decorated carvings overtaken by vines and worn by the wind. The magnificent columns that once held up its majestic dome have long since crumbled. A fine white layer of dust covers every surface, save for the cracks in the tiles where weeds had sprouted through. Today, its millennial isolation has finally drawn to a close.

“Such a massive church, this deep in the Gigant?”

Gigant Forest, one of the few places in the world where mana is quite literally overflowing. The excess mana has caused the local plants and animals to mutate into terrifying beasts, no civilization could possibly exist in it. And yet, here was a massive carved stone chapel, the grandiosity of which could rival any of Emjira’s own.

Her eyes were keen and sharp, yet there wasn’t any real sense of danger. Perhaps this building was some sort of safe zone within the Gigant, where monsters wouldn’t dare to tread? The ruinous state of the building seems to dissuade any idea of that, though. Besides, shouldn’t a cathedral have a town, or even a city, built around it? Wyn didn’t have any particular archeological sense, yet the area around this building was no different than any other section of the Gigant.

From the outside, Wyn was sure that this cathedral held a grand purpose to its architects. Though worn, the outside was highly decorated, the few remaining giving off an extremely chilling, if not even fearful, appearance. Yet, within the temple itself, decorations were sparse. Not even any crumbling pews where worshippers would have sat.

She made her way to the center, where the roof had caved in. The hole formed a natural spot light where the setting sunlight filters through. And in that spotlight, surrounded by the crumbled remains of the roof, stood a singular statue.

The statue stood in contrast to the cathedral, as though it were alien to its surroundings. A kneeling man, arms crossed across its chest, head hung low, wrapped tight in a pitch black cloth that clung to every inch of its skin. Pitch black, despite the bright and sunny day. So tight was the cloth wrapped around the statue that Wyn could even make out each individual finger, clenched tightly into fists. Wyn had seen statues carved with such precision and artistry that they appeared flowing and lifelike, but she didn’t think the same effect could be created when the statue was wrapped up like this. Wyn brushed a finger against the cloth. Warm, though it was a black cloth sitting in the middle of the unblocked sun. Even more intriguing, she could feel traces of mana pulsing through the cloth.

“An enchanted statue? How interesting…” Within enchanted areas like Gigant Forest, it was not too uncommon to find materials that’ve been enchanted by the residual mana. Normally, they were raw materials that would need to be processed by an expert craftsman, like the bow from one of the bandits earlier, or even the sword that hung from her hip. Perhaps the statue was crafted from some kind of enchanted stone, or if it was the cloth itself that was enchanted, the pelt of some creature? Whatever it was, if she managed to haul it back, it’d surely fetch a good amount of Guls. The cloth was wedged into the stone floor, and simply stabbing her sword into it managed to expose the ends. Just as she was about to lift the statue, an arrow soared behind her head.

“Finally… found… you!” Turning her head, Wyn found herself staring down the three bandits once again. She could only sigh in disappointment.

“I swore I lost you guys hours ago…”

“Compared to the monsters in this wretched place, a person’s tracks are much too obvious. Sides… if you really are the princess, we’re just doing our civic duties then, ain’t we?”

Another arrow soared forth. Ducking to the side, Wyn launched herself off the statue’s head, aiming an elbow at the bandit’s chest. From behind a column, a second bandit had revealed themselves, throwing forward a net. Wyn fell to the floor a foot from where the first bandit once stood. Twisting to free her arm, she sliced through the net. From the other side of the room, the third bandit rushed in, grappling Wyn as she freed herself from the tangled net.

The pouch bandit swished a small bottle filled with a clear blue liquid.

“What is that supposed to be? A sleeping potion?”

“A strong one, too. One whiff, you’ll be out like a baby. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt.”

“And is that supposed to make me feel any better?”

“Well, we wouldn’t dare hurt a princess. Now, stop strugglin’!”

Wyn grit her teeth, before taking a deep breath. She began to mutter under her breath.

“Hm? Something to say? I suppose we can offer some last words, or something. Not like you’ll be dying though.”

“Bands of air, lifting gale, feathers under arms. Soaring wings!”

“?” A powerful burst of wind knocked the bottle from the bandit’s hand. The pressure blasted the bandit holding Wyn to the floor. For a brief moment, the pressure kept Wyn aloft in the air, before unceremoniously dropping her to the ground.

The three bandits let out a yell as they all collapsed over themselves on the ground.

“Guh… the magic of a noble really ain’t fair…”

“A simple wind spell has you amazed? Should I be flattered or disappointed?”

“Enough. We aren’t here to chit chat. Surround her.” The pouch bandit whispered a few words to the net, and the fibers bound themselves together, repairing it to good as new. For the second time that day, Wyn found herself completely surrounded. Wyn drew her sword, causing the big bandit to do the same. With her other hand, she fished out a small match from the side of her leg, igniting it against the abrasive fabric of her pant leg. The three bandits, unsure of what she was planning, kept their distance. She blew the fire against her sword, and like a serpent, the flames grew and coiled around the blade, engulfing the entire sword.

A sword to rival any wielded by olden heroes of legend, forged from a scale of the Salamaandra, a legendary earthen dragon that ruled over the Northern Volcanoes. A decorated flamberge, its blade curved like the roaring fire that engulfed its blade, its metal glowing hot red like the magma from which it was forged.

“Now that really ain’t fair…”

“Scared? I’ll allow you to flee, if you so choose.”

The bandits were in no hurry. Their feet shuffled nervously against the ground. That sword was dangerous, which meant its wielder would be just as much. Yet still, they couldn’t resist the lull of a windfall that was before their eyes.

The bow bandit unleashed another fire arrow, yet as the arrow made contact with her sword, the fire vanished, as if it were extinguished, or devoured. The arrow, meanwhile, simply disintegrated into ash. As he hurriedly knocked another arrow, Wyn charged forth, slashing his bow in two.

“You—!”

The big bandit rushed in as she parried, bringing down his longsword. The heat from Wyn’s sword, though, melted clean through the ordinary metal of the bandit’s sword, drops of molten metal burning holes into his leather armor. Kicking him away, Wyn turned to the final bandit, slashing in his direction. From the tip of her sword, an arc of flame soared, burning apart his net and flying past him, striking against the statue.

“Oh… shoot!”

She ran past the last bandit, who had leapt out of the way of her flames, to investigate the statue. Hoping not to have destroyed it, her eyes widened instead to how little damage the statue had actually received. In fact, the statue was completely unharmed. Yet, Wyn was far from relieved. The mana beneath the cloth was chaotic, like a river whose flow was suddenly halted by a dam.

“W-what is that?” The bandits were hardly expert maguses, being entirely self-taught, yet even they noticed the strange turbulence of mana beneath that cloth. Before they could react, the energy burst out in a violent pulse, sending everyone in the room sprawling backwards and covering the massive room in a cloud of dust.

Mana pulsed from Wyn’s palm, launching a powerful gust of wind straight into the ground, clearing the cloud of dust around her. Coughing, she looked towards the statue. Where the statue once stood, now was a man. His skin was tanned, darker than Wyn or any of the bandits, yet still lighter than the cloth that once wrapped the statue, now wrapped around his forearms. His hair, though, was pure white, as one would expect upon a man of a hundred years of age, messy, yet still holding a braid or two. His visage was not that of a wizened elder, nor was it of a whelp fresh out of childhood, but rather one on the cusp of their mid-life. Dressed in an ornate purple and gold robe, Wyn could mistake him for a noble magus of some foreign country, if it weren’t for the unkempt state of his clothes and hair.

“H-hello?” Wyn couldn’t help but ask. The man was just standing there, staring. Purple eyes boring into her own.

“... You … freed me?” His voice was hoarse, and his speech was broken. He must not have spoken in a long time. Yet Wyn wasn’t sure how to answer. She probably did, when her attack struck the statue that wasn’t a statue, yet if he really was sealed within… wouldn’t that actually be bad news? She had never seen nor heard of a sealing spell similar to the one she just unraveled. What if this guy was really bad news? He glanced down at the cloth still wrapped around his arms, smoldering ashes silently dissipating amongst the dust shining in the air, alongside the sword beside the girl, the glow of the blade dying down.

“Allies?” The man pointed at the bandits, now scrambling to their feet. Weapons drawn once again — cockroaches who wouldn’t give up.

Immediately, Wyn shook her head. “No way. They’re the worst, actually.”

The man glanced down at his finger, flexing the stiffness from the digit. Silently, the man walked forward, grabbing Wyn’s hand in his own. Without a word, he raised his other hand, a purple blast of something flying forward. In an instant, the front of the cathedral blew apart, along with a chunk of the forest in the same direction. The air seemed to shimmer with a white hue, with the dust flying though the air.

He raised his finger again.

“What are you doing?!”

“Removing the threats.” Just as another beam was to launch, Wyn swung her sword at the man’s hand. The blade simply bounced off his clothed hand with a clang. “Benefactor. May I inquire—”

Wyn jutted her sword towards the man’s chest, standing directly in front of him. Glancing behind her, it seemed the bandits had taken that as their cue to leave and had already vanished.

“Benefactor.” The man repeated. “If they were enemies, why—”

“Stop it. Who are you?” Wyn interrupted, her sword glowing greater.

“I am…” The man paused for a second. He held his chin in his hand, appearing deep in thought. “I am…”

For the next few minutes, he simply stood there, staring at the ground. The sentence hung in the air, silently, seemingly forgotten by the man.

“You don’t remember your name?” The man merely shook his head.

“Do you remember anything else?”

The man stood still in thought, before shaking his head once again. “Nothing.”

Wyn let out a small sigh, dropping her sword. This wasn’t something she was equipped to deal with, nor wanted to.

“That’s… unfortunate.”

Wyn turned around, leaping out of the now ruined cathedral. While she wasn’t sure who that man could be, he probably wasn’t someone she wanted to deal with. She tossed him a compass, which had been tied around her neck.

“Here. That should take you to the closest settlement nearby. I’ve got… other business. Don’t try to kill any more people.”

With that, Wyn turned her back to the man, making her way out from the ruined cathedral. The man, meanwhile, simply clutched the compass, watching as her back shrunk away.

By the time Wyn stopped moving, the sun had long since set. Clearing out a small patch of grass, she made a small fire pit, igniting the loose twigs and dried leaves with her sword.

“What are you doing?”

A voice to her side caused Wyn to leap to her feet, the dirt putting out the small flame. Her heels hit the log that was her make-shift seat, causing her to go tumbling backwards, if it weren’t for the surprisingly muscular arms that caught her fall.

“Are you unharmed?”

“What are you doing here?” The forest was dark, yet the man’s purple eyes seemed to have a glow of their own, visible despite the darkness that surrounded them.

“I followed you after you left.”

“Why?”

“You are my benefactor. As I owe you my life, I must aid and serve you until the scales are evened.”

“You don’t need to do that..”

“Also, as you left, the bindings upon my body began to restrict me once again. Though I know not why, I fear if you are too far from me, I shall return to my prison.” Seeing no reaction from Wyn, the man continued. “It was greatly unpleasant. I would like to prevent that, if possible.”

Wyn couldn’t help but palm her face. A man cursed with such a seal could not have been for any frivolous reason. Everything about him screamed trouble. And he was now glued to her side.

“What a pain…”