"We've come a long way, huh, Ora…"
Those were the only words Daron was able to muster from his exhausted breath. He stood bent forward, leaning on his legs with his palms pushing against his bent knees.
He wore a thin, dark green coat that seemed too big for him, which was folded on the arms to not go past his wrists. After folding it, he had buttoned it to its position with a button that seemed to have been sewn on not too long ago.
"Yeah, Dara, you're right"
Orin looked at the tall gate in front of him as he held up his white hair which would normally go down to his chin with his right hand. His left eye was blue and the right was fully crimson with a black star where the pupil normally would be.
"Let's go. We've got work to do."
Orin put his hands into the pockets of his brown leather jacket that reached slightly below his hips as the two of them started walking into the town.
The town was moderately small, but too big for a village. It mostly consisted of stores for adventurers and travelers to stock up on food, materials, equipment and weapons. Although, since the town itself was in the center between three of the northern area's largest mountains, it had been rumored to be one of the more expensive towns to visit on one's travels.
Orin and Daron entered a resturant named Alfonso's, which was known between adventurers and travelers as the best resturant to stop by before a great travel or quest. They sat down at a booth right by the exit, next to a window.
They each ordered a large steak with smashed potatoes, gravy and various other vegetables. They both ate quietly, with the silence eventually being broken halfway through by Daron.
"So now's the time to actually get something done, huh? Hard to believe it's already been seven years."
Orin stopped eating after hearing what Daron said and brushed away a tear from his face before responding.
"Seven years? With how much we relive that day in our dreams, it feels like it was just last week."
"Yeah, you're right there, Ora. Only reason I know we've matured from when we were that young is that I can see how strong we've become."
"Hopefully, we have come a long way from when we were just seven years old. And hopefully we can finally avenge them all."
"Yeah… But hey, we've had each other's back since even before that, and I wouldn't want anyone other than you by my side in this."
"I am glad to have you here, too, Dara. Now what do you say to finally ending this, once and for all?"
"Fine with me, bro."
They both forced a smile as they quietly ate their steaks and brushed away the tears they shed, as they could not help but think of their mothers' cooking back home.
After they had finished eating, Daron paid for the steaks with the rest of the money they had. Now, motivated and penniless, they left Alfonso's and walked toward a different building across the street.
The building was not very tall and had its windows were covered with purple curtains that were illuminated by magically floating, red glowing candles.
As they approached the building, Orin heard a voice in his mind and suddenly stood still. He heard a familiar voice from the day when everything precious was taken from him and Daron.
"Orin… Brother… I don't wanna go…!!"
He could not escape the memories of his younger brother, who was only four years at the time, being pulled away by two hooded men in black cloaks; as well as the blood-soaked floor in front of him where he was lying on the floor, barely conscious next to his slaughtered parents.
Orin felt a sudden, overwheling feeling of stress throughout his entire body as he clenched onto is left wrist and started twisting it, before Daron slapped him back to his senses.
Although he was trying his best to keep his cool, Daron could not escape his memories either. Looking at Orin's bruised, empty gaze, he only saw a young girl in front of him, slightly older than he was at the time.
As she was staring emptily at him, bleeding from several wounds and lying atop him, he remembered the words she whispered to him in her final moment.
"Don't move… Don't make a sound or they'll… get you too. Big sis is gonna protect you, Dara… Don't worry, I'll be with you forever… Don't look behind me… Mom may be gone, but daddy will be back for you soon…"
He grit his teeth in sorrow and anger as he heard her final exhale repeatedly in the back of his mind, something he had not been able to stop hearing since the day they left home.
"C'mon, let's go."
"Yeah"
As Orin and Daron stepped into the establishment, they saw a round, small table in a dimly lit room at the end of a corridor. The corridor's floor was entirely covered in a purple carpet that looked freshly cleaned. Everything looked as clean as new.
On the other side of the table stood a chair with no one seated in it. Daron proceeded to walk into the room and see if anybody was there. As he looked around, there was no one to see. He then crouched down by the edge of the room, by the end of the hallway.
"Cm'ere! We can sneak up on him when he comes back."
"Are you sure? What if we are noticed? Or if he is still here?"
"Then we'll see him enter this room or the hallway'n we can nab 'im"
"Sigh*… All right then"
Orin followed Daron into the room and the two of them hid around the corners between the corridor and the room. They sat and waited patiently for him to arrive. Orin held a Gotland style knife in his hands and Daron kept his right index finger pointed out with his thumb shaped as a trigger above it.
After fifteen minutes of waiting, a voice spoke from behind the two of them.
"Now what brings you two eager boys to my establishment? Though I ask, I already know the answer, hehehe…"
They both gasped and quickly turned around to see a man who sported a long and loose, black robe, with a hood that masked his face in shadows. He sat at the table with one hand circulating a crystal ball he held in his other.
"Come on, then. Well, I suppose introductions are in order. I already know who the two of you are, Orin and Daron… And you don't need to know who I am, since I know what you want from me…"
"Then I say we should get started!"
Orin Firmly gripped his knife with his right hand and swung it horizontally toward the robed man. The man tilted slightly backwards and evaded the knife. He then lifted the orb slightly, it started glowing and Orin fell on the table, unable to move.
Daron quickly lifted his hand in the same position toward the man. four blue, glowing spheres manifested around his index finger with a fifth one in front of the tip of it. He tensed up the muscles in his forearm and one of the spheres flew forward as one of the floating ones moved to the tip of his finger.
The hooded man stopped the flying sphere with his right hand before taking a glance at it and Daron.
"Decent evocation for an amateur… but you lack in proper transmutation. You are not worth my time. Behold, as this is how a proper mage wields magic…"
He gripped the sphere more firmly, reshaped it into a sphere of black flames with a diameter the size of his palm. He threw it towards Daron. Daron dodged the sphere and fired four more blasts toward the robed man, missing all shots.
The sphere of black flames bursted and the resulting fire rapidly started consuming the building, leaving no smoke, only decimation. Orin mustered up enough strength to rise up and thrust his knife toward the man. His attention was fixed on avoiding Daron's blasts and was caught off guard.
Orin managed to hit him in the gut with his knife before feeling a sudden sting in his right eye end keeling over in pain. Black smoke slowly oozed from Orin's eye and the eye itself was now purely white. Tears poured from his left eye as he rose up again and much more quickly stab the robed man in the gut.
"ORIN, DON'T!!!"
Daron dashed to Orin, grabbed onto him and stared into his eyes.
"Don't do it, brother! We've finally made progress! Don't surrender yourself to this beast, at least not now! We can do it, just believe in your big bro!!"
"Bro… ther…?"
Orin's eye stopped oozing and faded back to normal. The robed man moved back and clenched his right hand into a fist. The black flames that consumed the building disappeared and every wall and the ceiling of the house had been turned to rubble. He took off his robe to reveal an old, muscular shirtless man with seemingly no stab wounds.
"Like I told you amateur children, this is what a real mage can do when they don't waste their talent. You with the eye… You're an interesting case. The other one, I'm not so sure yet. If you prove to be worthless, I'll make sure to make you a proper sacrifice when I reunite Orin with his blood brother…"
"What…!?!?"
"Don't listen to him, Ora! He's only spewin' bullsh*t to aggrivate us! And it's kinda working. Now I wanna show this old fart what I'm made of!"
Daron ran at the old man, ready to punch him with his fist surrounded by five glowing blue spheres. The old man tripped him and grabbed his wrist before he could punch him. Daron smirked, fired all the spheres into his gut and bit his forearm with sharp, pointy teeth.
The old man was winded from the blast and Daron exploited his condition to hit his groin with a turning backwards kick.
"You try to win by fightin' like a mage, but don't forget that yer fightin' two children that're willin' to do anything to reach yer people. Didya forget ta read up on that or did yer superiors forget to tell ya!?"
In Daron's moment of arrogance, he suddenly felt a firm grip on his throat. He was not able to see what was holding it, but Orin was able to see a spectral, purple hand choking him. Orin got up and jumped at Daron, attempting to cut the hand. The blade ran through it, but had no effect on it.
He then ran to the old man and repeatedly swung his knife toward him. After a few seconds, he managed to trip the old man and thrust his knife down at him. A new spectral hand appeared and stopped the blade. The old man rose up and used the new hand to grab Orin by the throat and slam both of them into the ground.
"You put up a bit of a struggle, but none of it was good enough to face a proper mage.. Now, to take you both in and collect the rest of them."
As he lifted his arms up and moved his hands toward the boys' faces, the old man's arms suddenly fell clean off his arms. All three of them stared in confusion and looked to the street after hearing footsteps. Toward them walked a man.
The man wore black, baggy pants, traditionally worn by martial artists, as well as a slightly oversized white tunic. Above the tunic, he sported a crimson jacket with yellow lines on the bottom and pockets, as well as an even bigger, icy blue overcoat that he wore like a cape on his shoulders.
"It seems my suspicion was right, there was a mage here causing havoc. You don't seem too powerful, though… Maybe a second-grade at best, that's a win for me."
The old man stared at this new enemy and looked at his severed hands. His eyes were filled with rage and he started grinding his teeth. Not just from his sudden entry or for his hands, but what he had said about him; second grade.
"Second-grade!? How dare you!? I am Dominic Willingham of the blackhoods and you dare assess me as SECOND GRADE!?!?"
"Yep… Sorry, Mack, but I don't make the rules. Well, I did make the rules of these circumstances, so I guess I do. But to make sure these two kids here understand the differences in mages' power, You're in my domain right now… which means I make the rules."
The severed hands of the old man suddenly ignited with flames of every color one could imagine until there was nothing left of them. The old man grew panicked and instantly started running toward Orin and Daron.
Before he could reach them, he was covered in the same flames and burned quickly until he burst into a spray of blood that hit Daron. A mark glowed on him, but they could not see what it was until it disappeared. There was no longer a trace of the old man being there. No smoke, no ashes, no final words, just the cinders that dissipated in the air.
"Woah, what was that?"
Daron stared in awe at the colorful cinders and could only articulate how impressed he was.
"Right, I guess I should introduce myself."
He brushed aside the bangs of his medium long, black hair to reveal a pair of shiny, navy blue eyes.
"My name's Michael Stylus. I'm with the CMA. We might need some proper introductions, so how about I treat you to some grub? You don't look too hungry, but we are, so How about some soup? My treat!"
He turned around to reveal a large crest of a blue rose on the back of his overcoat. The two of them followed him, walking slower than him due to their injuries. They went back to Alfonso's and ordered a big pot of soup to be shared by four people. They got a pot with broth and a chosen selection of meat and vegetables to cook on the table.
"So, tell me about why you were here fighting a blackhood."
Orin was quick to respond to his request, as he had assumed he would ask why they were there.
"They killed our families seven years ago and we are pursuing them for vengeance."
"That's about the gist of it, yeah."
Daron's thoughts were mixed between awe of Michael and shame of his own shortcoming and could only agree with what Orin said.
"You can't be more than fourteen right now, am I right?"
Taking that question as a compliment, Daron became focused on the conversation, wanting to impress this skilled mage that sat in front of them
"Right on the mark! We've taken time at cities to study up on general knowledge and magic to not remain as dumb as back then."
"That seems like an interesting situation. I myself have some business to conduct with the Blackhoods, same as you. Not any that I'm willing to share right now, but I can tell you this much… If you try to fight any member of the blackhoods, or any proper mage at all, you will die horribly."
Orin and Daron both grew more gloomy and stared emptily into the soup before Orin spoke.
"So it has all been for nothing, huh?"
"I didn't say that. I have a proposition for the two of you."
Daron's head rose and his expression lightened.
"A proposition?"
"Yeah. Stay here for a while. About two years or so. Put your whole revenge mission on hold for two years-"
"I refuse!! We have been pursuing these bastards for seven years and you are telling us it has been for nothing!?!? We will keep going and get stronger, right Dara!?"
Michael lifted his arms and made his palms face forward, signalling for Orin to stop screaming.
"Hold your horses there, you didn't let me finish. What I was gonna say was put it off for two years and I'll teach you proper magic. Becoming a full-fledged mage usually takes up to ten years of studying and practice to accomplish, but with me as your teacher, I'll have you mastering the basics in two years."
"We are going to have to think this through, right Dara?"
Before Daron could respond, a girl sat down at the table, next to Michael. She wore black leggings, a white, expensive-looking tunic, a crimson and yellow striped skirt and a crimson coat on top. Her white hair went halfway down her torso and she had dark purple eyes. Every characteristic about her immediately caught Daron's attention.
"This is my top student Cassandra."
Daron slammed his palm on the table.
"You son of a bitch, I'm in!!"
"DARA!?!?"
"That's one, what about you, then?"
"I guess I will have to accept. But on one condition."
"Hit me."
"If a day more than two years passes and we are not on the same level as that mage we fought earlier, you will allow me to kill you by running my blade through your heart."
"Deal!"
Cassandra was very visibly confused.
"What!? What's going on, master Mike?"
"These two will be your fellow students of mine for a while. We'll be staying in that cabin outside of town for two years."
Orin and Daron's eyes were now filled with determination once more. Their eyes glimmered with a spark that had not been there since the day they vowed to learn magic and find the Blackhoods. They were now determined that they were going to study under Michael stylus and obliterate the ones that took their families and childhoods away.