Arran awoke in a small but clean bedroom, lying in a bed so hard it almost seemed like its owner had wanted to prove his toughness even when sleeping.
The room was furnished with simple but well-made furniture, and several ink drawings of battle scenes decorated the walls. At a glance, Arran thought it should be one of the commanders' quarters.
The first thing he did after waking was to examine his body, and when he did, he saw that it was covered in bruises. And not just that — with every breath he took he felt sharp stabs of pain in his chest. From this, he knew that at least some of his ribs had to be bruised or even broken.
His left shoulder and arm were covered in bandages, and when he looked underneath them, he found several deep wounds, still open even if they weren't bleeding anymore.
Moving his left arm was extremely painful, but he felt some relief at this — the mere fact that h
Three months had passed since Arran escaped from the prison, and by now, he had recovered almost completely.Although he would sometimes still feel pangs of pain if he moved too quickly, he knew that for some time already, he had been well enough to travel.That he remained here was in part because he wanted to recover fully before braving the dangers of the road, but mostly, he was reluctant to abandon the peace and safety of the stronghold.After the stronghold had fallen to the prisoners, surprisingly little had happened.Arran had been unconscious during the final battle for the stronghold, and after he came to, it had taken some weeks before he had been able to leave his bed.When he finally got the chance to explore the stronghold, he found it almost shockingly normal. Instead of the castle he had imagined, the stronghold was more like a small town, albeit an unusually well
After leaving the stronghold, Arran traveled in secret.Although the Academy wouldn't be looking for him just yet, he knew it was only a matter of time until they came after him. To avoid leaving a trail for them to follow, he made it a point to avoid villages and even roads.Instead, he moved through the wilderness, doing all he could to avoid other travelers. The fewer people who saw him, the fewer ways the Academy would have to find him.The journey was lonely, but not uncomfortable. His void bags contained all the supplies he needed, as well as a large tent to protect him during cold and rainy nights.He didn't know exactly where he was going, but that didn't bother him — as long as he kept moving west, he would eventually reach his destination.The Shadowflame Society controlled the western border of the Empire, and from what others had told him, he knew the entire bor
Arran grew up the son of a common guardsman in a small town named Riverbend. His mother abandoned him when he was just a small child, and he was raised by his father.After Arran's father was mortally wounded by bandits, on his deathbed he revealed that Arran's mother had been a mage.Arran took revenge for his father's death, killing the bandits responsible by barricading the farm where they were hiding out and setting it ablaze with them inside.With his father dead and knowing that his mother had been a mage, Arran decided to travel to Fulai City in hopes of joining the Academy, a magical college.When he was tested for magical talent at the Academy, Arran was discovered to have a forbidden Realm — a forbidden type of magic that would see him imprisoned and killed by the Academy if he was caught.Arran fled the Academy and Fulai City with the help of Master Zhao, a power
Arran spent several hours exploring the city, which he discovered was named Eremont after asking some of the locals. Although it was even larger than Silvermere, there was an aura of impermanence to it, as if many of those in the city either arrived only recently or did not plan to stay for long.The city was littered with inns and taverns, far more than would be found in any normal city, and as Arran wandered the streets he soon realized that many of the people there were either traveling merchants or youths hoping to join the Shadowflame Society.After a time, he got hungry, and he stopped at a small food stall on the side of the road, where an old man stood beside a red-hot grill."What'll you have?" the old man asked as Arran stopped in front of him. "I've got flatbread, grilled goat, mutton, sausages, and ribs.""I'll have a piece of flatbread with grilled goat," Arran said.
When they arrived at Darkfire's home, Arran was stunned for a moment. It was not so much a house as it was a vast mansion, large enough to serve as the headquarters of a merchant clan and surrounded by a ten-foot wall."You live here?" Arran asked with some disbelief."For the time being," Darkfire replied. "I was hoping not to have to stay here long, but then…" He sighed before finishing the sentence. "It's been a while already."Arran remained quiet. Although he was curious, he didn't want to pry into Darkfire's affairs."So, you want to go a few rounds?" Darkfire asked, changing the subject.Arran nodded. It would be good to get some practice.Darkfire led the way through the gate, Arran following him inside. Within the walls, a large field lay next to the mansion, empty except for some training dummies and other practice equipment.
"You should meet my friend," Darkfire said, speaking to the two pretty girls standing in front of him. "He's a master swordsman from the east."Arran groaned in discomfort. He was sitting in a chair in the tavern, trying very hard not to be noticed as he drank his ale.The entire night had been like this. They had already visited a handful of taverns, each filled with young people who were hoping to join the Shadowflame Society, and in each tavern, the story was much the same.The moment they entered, the girls' eyes would turn toward Darkfire's handsome face. To Arran, it was like watching moths being drawn to a lantern — girls would constantly approach Darkfire, adoring smiles on their faces, giggling as they spoke to him.Darkfire, seemingly intent on being a good friend, kept trying to steer girls Arran's way, talking up his martial prowess and exotic origins.Although
When they returned to Darkfire's mansion, Arran finally got a look at how vast the place was. With over two dozen bedrooms, a library, several studies, and not one but two great dining halls, the mansion was clearly designed for to house dozens of people.And yet, Darkfire lived there by himself, without even servants to look after it.Moreover, from the state of the place, it was clear that Darkfire wasn't much of a decorator. If the mansion hadn't been clean and mostly free of dust, Arran could easily have believed it to be abandoned."You can take any room you want," Darkfire said. "Other than my bedroom, I don't really use the place much.""Then why get something so big?" Arran asked."The field outside is great for training," Darkfire replied with a grin.Arran picked out a large bedroom on the second floor, with a good view of the city and a massive bed
When Arran looked, he saw that one of the black-robed Shadowblood novices had jumped into the arena, sword already drawn.It was a brown-haired young man, tall and with an athletic build. He had an eager look on his face, bordering on manic, his eyes shining with lust for battle."You're trying to build a name fighting only weaklings? Pathetic! Try fighting me, instead! Or are you afraid?"It was clear that the Shadowblood novice was trying to goad Arran into attacking him, but Arran wouldn't fall for it just yet — if he was going to have a real fight, he wanted something to show for his troubles."What's in it for me?" Arran responded, keeping his voice calm despite the situation. "If I defeat you, what do I get?""You think you have a chance of defeating me?" The Shadowflame novice sneered at the suggestion. "Fine. If you win, you can have my sword."