Savior

Atlas stood in front of his parent’s home in his traveling clothes, which consisted of a robe, fur boots, a round hat that covered his thin blonde hair, and a backpack that contained useful items like a few potions, magic scrolls, and mana crystals. The sun was rising quickly. If he were to get to Krat city on time, he would need to leave immediately.

“Atlas.”

Atlas turned to face his father, a short man with cream-coloured skin and blonde hair like his. His face was lightly wrinkled, the main difference between them. “I’ve brought you this.”

Atlas turned to his father and his eyes widened. A thin wooden staff lay dormant in his father’s hands. Its gem attracted eyes from far and beyond their slums which caused Atlas to usher his father inside.

“Father, where’d you get that?” Atlas hissed.

“I bought it for you, my son.”

“F-father we can’t afford that.”

“Don’t worry about the money. That part concerns me.”

Atlas nodded respectfully at his father before taking the staff into his own hands. The rune at the centre glowed as it made contact with him.

“Th-this is a pairing staff?” Atlas said in awe.

His father nodded. “A gift from your mother and me.”

Atlas spread his arms and tightened them around his father.

“Thank you!” he said.

A creak emitted from the stairs next to him as a small woman came down them. She wore birthing clothes and had a round stomach. Her hair was long and braided. Her eyes were the color of maple, and dark from restless sleep.

“Atlas, are you off soon?” the woman asked.

“Yes, mother.”

The woman smiled tenderly as she made her way down the stairs holding her stomach.

“I wish you luck on your trip, son. I want you to remember one thing, though.” His mother approached him and gave him a hug.

“Never stop being you,” she began,

“and always do what you believe in,” Atlas finished.

She smiled and put his head against her chest. After a little while, she removed herself and pulled out a folded piece of paper from her pocket.

“You left this in your room,” she said.

Atlas unfolded the piece of paper and read its contents.

-Travel through all six divisions

-Meet someone to love

-Learn a new field of magic

-Make my parents proud

Upon reading his list of things to do on his one year journey, Atlas thanked his mother and opened the door to his home.

“It’s a shame I cannot be here for Ruby’s birth.”

“Don’t worry about that, enjoy yourself. She will be waiting for you here…at home.”

Atlas nodded and closed the door behind him. He walked up to his horse, lent to him by his family, and mounted it. He adjusted his hat and kicked the horse. Together, the pair took off into the distance towards the first division he had never been to: the human division.

Around midday Atlas arrived at the first rest spot. There had been nothing but plains for kilometres on end, but at the spot Atlas had stopped stood a tree that must have been eight hundreds years old. Its branches looked withered and the bark was coming off, yet the leaves of the tree were plentiful and had a pleasant hue.

Atlas dismounted his horse and walked through the tall grass until he reached the tree. He put his staff down next to him and lay down under the tree. His eyes filled themselves with sleepiness and he forced them not to close.

His horse, who his parents had named Hungus, waddled into a nearby pond in which he took long, deep gulps of water. Atlas watched for a bit until eventually, his strength betrayed him and he closed his eyes.

Soon it was evening and his horse stood next to him, sleeping. Atlas rubbed his eyes and cursed. He had slept longer than he had wanted. Way longer. He stood up and nudged his horse, which awoke quickly. He hopped onto it and galloped off into the distance.

It was nightfall when he passed a small hut. Atlas was never the one to ask for help because he never wanted to burden someone, but he knew that traveling at night without a source of light was dangerous, especially for him. He got off his horse and hitched him at a stable next to the hut. He walked to the door and knocked carefully.

An old elf opened the door. He was fat and stout with a nose that twitched as he spotted Atlas.

“U-um, hello?” the old elf said, clearly not used to receiving visitors.

Atlas averted his gaze and took a deep breath.“H-hey, sir. I was wondering if you could give me a place to stay for the night.”

The old elf looked at him with suspicion. “How old are you, son?”

“Sixteen, sir.”

“Ah, so is this your yerip?”

Atlas, whose gaze was focused on the elf’s toes, meekly said, “Yes, sir.”

“Well, come in!”

The old elf waddled inside his hut and held the door open for Atlas. He shut it behind him and sat down at a rocking chair near a fire. There was not much in the hut. There was just a bed, a rocking chair, a wooden chair, and a fire.

The old elf motioned for Atlas to take a seat and so he did. They sat there, together, in silence for a little while until the old elf spoke up.

“I remember my yerip,” he said as he gazed longingly at the fire, “I traveled the world, met a couple of lassie’s, had a couple of children, and became an archer.”

“Sir, if I may ask, what was on your list?”

The old elf stared intensely at the fire. Atlas could almost see the gears turning in his head.

“I longed to become a fine archer… that’s it.”

“Did you become one?”

The old elf slowly nodded.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Raven,” he said with a long breath, “Raven Goodspeed.”

Atlas’ eyes widened as he stared at the old timer. “The famous elf bounty hunter?”

Raven chuckled. “Yes, child, that is me.”

“The Goodspeed that could hit a target from one hundred kilometres away?”

“Well, now that’s just a bit exaggerated-”

“The Goodspeed that was both a knight and an archer?”

The old elf smiled sadly. “That’s long behind me, child.”

The two sat quietly once more, until Atlas broke the silence. “Hey, do you think an elf should be a mage?”

“Why not? Anyone should be what they want to be.” Raven stood up and clasped Atlas’ hands. “Everyone needs a purpose. Something to live for…and you can’t live for something or give anything a purpose if you hate it.”

Atlas woke up the next morning, forgetting at what time he had fallen to sleep. He found himself on the old elf’s bed, next to a smoldering fire. Light invaded the room and the loud cry of cicadas barked at him to get up. Atlas looked around his surroundings, but the old elf was nowhere to be found.

He stepped outside of the hut and found no one. There was no note, nothing, as if the old timer had disappeared into thin air. Atlas shrugged it off and hopped onto Hungus. Together, the pair galloped towards the city.

Around midday, Atlas felt the hunger settle in. He knew he had to eat something. He dismounted his horse and searched around the immediate area. There wasn’t much; just a sparse forest. Atlas walked around the immediate area until he found a rabbit.

The beautiful creature had a golden mane and purple-coloured eyes; a rabbit that had been born under a collection of mana crystals. Any being that ate a creature like this was to have their life span increased. These rabbits were extremely rare and extremely valuable.

The rabbit hadn’t seemed to notice Atlas, so he carefully approached it. Once he was up close, he whispered a single word.

“Ajule.”

A small enclosure burst through the ground and surrounded the rabbit. The poor animal looked for anywhere to escape with no luck. Atlas approached his trap and crouched in front of it to examine it. The rabbit quivered softly in fear as it spotted the elf.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” Atlas’ stomach rumbled, reminding him of his hunger. He knew how valuable that rabbit was and how beneficial it would be to consume it, but something stopped him.

“I won’t hurt you. Here,” he said as he pulled one of Hungus’ carrots from his satchel, “do you want this?”

The rabbit stopped quivering and Atlas put the carrot in the enclosure. The rabbit ate it; it was clearly hungry.

“There you go, my friend,” Atlas said softly as he put his hand in the enclosure. He carefully petted the rabbit’s head and smiled.

Atlas waved his hand and the enclosure collapsed. The rabbit jumped over the ruins and scurried off into the forest, taking one look back to thank the young elf; who, in return, gave it a reassuring nod.

Atlas sighed, stood up, and trudged back to Hungus. He decided he would eat when he got to the city. It wasn’t much farther.

Lady Primrose R. Krat sat in front of a mirror as two maids stood behind her; one combing her long brown hair, and the other, tightening her corset.

“Damn it!” she wheezed.

“Sorry, Lady Rose,” the maid tightening the corset said.

After half an hour of fussing and adjusting, Primrose was ready for the ball. The clock read about midnight, and as the maids carried the lower part of her dress, Primrose opened the large golden doors in the palace to a room full of men.

These men eyed her up and down with almost an animal look in their eyes. They were hungry for power…and hungry for Primrose’s innocence.

“Father, how dare you put me in these…horrible clothes and let these animals into our home!”

At the centre of the crowd of the men stood a man of great importance… King Arthur S. Krat. He had a well-trimmed beard, golden eyes, and a shiny crown on his head.

“Ahhhh, my Rose, my sweet Rose! You’ve made it!” King Arthur spread his arms and smiled. “Happy sixteenth birthday, my sweet heart!”

Primrose approached her father and pushed men out of the way left and right as she walked towards him.

“This isn’t just about my birthday, is it?”

Her father had a smile on his face that one might perceive as friendly, but those that knew him well knew differently. It was one of irritation and you could tell from his cold, soulless eyes.

“Primrose,” he whispered softly into her ear, “do not make a scene or I swear to God, I’ll beat you again when we’re done.”

Primrose’s eyes widened and she looked down at the ground. Blood trickled down her lip as her teeth made contact with her flesh.

“Now, of course it isn’t, honey! What do we do when a precious maiden like yourself turns sixteen? We find you a husband! Now, line up gentlemen and let us begin the selection!”

Different men from noble classes gathered in a line. Each of them presented their case to the princess and informed her on why they were the best option. The selection was an event in which a husband would be chosen for the princess. One would think that the princess would be the one with the say, but in the end…it was the king.

Primrose knew that her father only cared about one thing: power; and that’s what he was going to get.

The princess had long since spaced out, because she knew that the only reason the men were speaking was out of tradition, but something caught her attention. A loud, “excuse me” echoed throughout the long line of men. Several nobles found themselves on the ground, being pushed aside by an older, fat and round man. Once he got to the front of the line, the poor man that was giving his speech to Primrose was thrown to the side.

“Sire,” the fat man said, out of breath, “My name is Bartholomew E. Pratt! I am the most important man here and I will make your daughter extremely happy! I will give you many children and many heirs. That’s all.”

King Arthur stared at him with cold eyes, but something else in them. A look of hunger.

“She’s yours.”

The princess looked at her father with enraged eyes. “Father, you can’t be serious!”

“My decision is final,” he said.

“Ouch!”

Pratt pushed Primrose against a wall in her bedroom. His breath smelled of liquor and garlic. His eyes were animalistic and his breathing erratic.

“Get off of me!” Primrose yelled at him.

Pratt shoved his hands over her mouth. “No one can hear you and even if they did, they wouldn’t do anything. You’re mine now, ‘princess’.”

Pratt grabbed Primrose and threw her on the bed. He walked over to her and climbed on top of her.

This man could easily be taken down by Primrose, but the consequences of doing so lingered in her mind. The disgusting man began licking her ear and that’s when she snapped.

Primrose kneed him in the testicles and punched him across the face. He fell onto the ground and Primrose ran towards her window and climbed down.

“GUARDS!” Pratt yelled.

She ran away from the palace and towards the front gates.

“Hey, stop!” a guard yelled.

Primrose continued her pace and met the guard face on. She raised her fist and struck him against the face, causing him to fall over. She grabbed his sword from its sheath and ran through the gates and headed down town.

After a half hour of running, she reached the slums. She looked around and spotted a local pub. A singular horse was thatched at a stable outside of the bar.

She dashed inside and looked around. It was an old looking place with holes in the floorboards and tables that looked as old as time. No one was inside but a singular bartender/waiter and an elf.

The bartender didn’t look up and remained where he was, behind a counter, cleaning a glass. The elf, blonde and young, with bangs covering his eyes, was eating a huge plate of vegetables. He was eating them with so much passion that Primrose wondered if he was starving.

Primrose shifted her gaze towards the bartender. “Bartender! I need that horse outside.”

The bartender looked up with a scowl that changed into one of awe. “A-are you Lady Primrose?”

“Yeah, now do as I say!”

“R-right! Only one problem…it’s his horse…” he said as he pointed at the elf.

The elf at this point had turned his attention to the princess, who approached him.

“Hey, I need your horse.”

The elf averted his gaze and shook his head. “He’s not for sale.”

“I didn’t say I was buying him…I need him, now.”

The young elf scratched the back of his ear and looked up at her. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but he’s my horse.”

“Who do you think you are? I’m the princess! You could get arrested for saying no to me!”

The elf looked unsure of what to do, but he decided to meet her halfway. In his mind, if what she was saying was true, he didn’t want to be arrested while on his trip.

“Which way are you going, ma’am?” the elf asked.

“Anywhere outside of this city,” she snapped.

“Okay, ma’am, well, I’m going east and leaving this city by dawn…so I can take you along with me if you’d like.”

“No, I need to leave no-”

“Hey, who's in there?”

Primrose gripped the elf’s hand and looked at him in the eyes. “Please, give me your horse,” she said.

A door burst open and a guard walked through carrying an axe. He was six feet tall and round.

The elf spotted the guard and was unsure of what to do, but when he saw that look of desperation in her eyes, he knew he had to help.

“Alright, we leave now,” he said as he stood up.

Primrose turned to face the guard and pointed her sword at him.

“Come with us now, princess. No one has to get hurt,” the guard said.

The elf picked up his staff, which the princess had failed to notice was lying in the booth next to him.

“You’re a mage?” she asked.

The elf nodded nervously.

“Okay, do you know light magic?”

The elf, once again, nodded.

“Blind him.”

“I-I can’t hurt others…”

Primrose smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll do that part.”

She charged at the man while the elf stood back and pointed his staff.

“Lurgo!”

The man stumbled back as Primrose slashed the man’s ankles. He fell to the ground and Primrose slashed his neck.

“Sorry, Argus,” she murmured.

Primrose looked over at the elf, who was in shock, and grabbed him by the hand.

“Come on, let’s go!”

“I-I helped you kill someone…” he said as he stared blankly while being dragged along.

“Yes, you did, now, unfortunately, you made enemies with the Krat guards, so we need to move along.”

Primrose dragged him over to the horse and lifted him in front while she got on the back. The elf didn’t move as alarms went off in the town and the bartender walked outside to get a smoke while murmuring, “this’ll be the end of me.”

“Come on! He’s your horse, we need to get out of here!”

The elf didn’t budge.

Primrose reached over and slapped him.

“Come on!”

It seemed like the young elf awoke after that because he kicked the horse and off they went. Primrose worried he wouldn’t be able to keep his sanity the whole way and since she had never ridden a horse before, she wouldn’t be able to drive it herself. Things had worked in her favour, the way she hoped they would. She had wanted to go with the elf from the very start.

To keep him sane, she asked him what his name was.

“Atlas,” the elf replied, “Atlas Woodsbarrow.”