Evalyce: Worldshaper Vol. 1: Mother of Wolves

Chap. 1- Firefall

Isle of Whispers, Year of the White Boar, 2012 CE

Al'dhumarna yawned, stretching his essence, exploring the confines of his cage yet again. Something had awoken the Nagali from his ages-old slumber, something powerful and world-shattering. Whatever it was had weakened the binding the Magi of old had placed upon him, turning him to mythril.

With time, he would be free. All he had to do was wait. What were a few more years to one who had waited millenia for freedom? He would wait, oh yes. Wait and gather allies.

The great Nagali sent part of his essence out, questing for just the right kinds of sympathetic minds to aid him. Minds hungry for power, for wealth, for revenge. All these things he promised them, in exchange for their devotion and obedience. Sibilant instructions were given, plans laid by the trapped demi-deity against the time when he would finally be free again.

Unknown Location, Year of the Golden Hart, 2013 CE

A young man lay twitching and whimpering in his sleep, tormented by nightmares. A cool voice slid through his thoughts demanding obedience and promising swift punishment should it be lacking. The voice was not happy with his conduct of late. It showed him, through his dreams, exactly what he could expect if he continued to be a disappointment. Death was the least of these things. It whispered to him of what he was to do.

Pain seared through the young man's soul, eating him alive. He woke then, stifling a howl of fear and despair. The cold, serpent-smooth voice had given him a nearly impossible task. Seek out and slay the Keeper of the Deep Forest, on Argoth, in the heart of the Forest People's empire. The voice had given him the knowledge of 'how' to slay the great guardian. It seemed so simple, yet he knew that was not the case and he shivered, trembling to think of even contemplating such an act as the destruction of a demi-deity

In the darkness of night he whimpered again, hugging himself. He seemed destined to be a disappointment to everyone he came in contact with. A strangled sob and the young man drew himself together. He pulled all of his unhappiness and fear into a ball and shoved it away. By morning all that was left were a burning anger, a gnawing bitterness, and the determination to carry out this task without fail.

Skycity Sevfahl, 10000ft above the Aeryth Ocean, Year of the Golden Hart, 2013 CE

Kalla kyl'Solidor snorted, thumping her staff against the ground in agitation as she strode down the corridor, red-trimmed black robes fluttering around her. Deep in the dim, dank depths of Dante's Inferno, the mage had come to seek a magister.

Culled from felons sentenced to death, a magister was bound to their mage, serving as a fierce and deadly protection, and as an extra conduit of power. Until now, Kalla had refused to take one. She felt that a mage should be capable of taking care of themselves, but the Sin' of Cryshal Kanlon disagreed, insisting that she follow tradition, and so she found herself in the pits of hell, following an overweight warden and forcing herself to ignore the lewd, sneering remarks of the prisoners they passed.

Dante's Inferno was arranged in a series of stacked levels, with the death row prisoners located at the bottom of the facility. She had been drug back and forth on a circuitous path through several levels so far and she was beginning to become annoyed. Kalla was fairly certain that there was a more direct route to the lower level and that the warden was just toying with her.

Kalla kyl'Solidor was a short female, with bright green eyes and jet-black hair, Argosian by birth. Though petite, the mage was filled to bursting with the power of her calling and the temper of her House. Despite her relatively young age, Kalla was already a maester, worthy of the prefix kyl' to her House name, skilled in healing, alchemy, and seership.