The sun shone brightly in the empty plains of the land of legions, its warmth radiating and blessing the grasses, mosses, and scattered bushes of its silent domain. The day was clear. Not a single cloud threatened the adventurer's clothes today as they continued their trek through the flatland.
In the distance, the party saw no smokestacks but only the very edge of the Frigid mountains.
At the front of the party, the wizard scanned the horizon, trying to find any hint of a valley but all he found was only more flatland and old settlement ruins and the Frigid Mountains where the Silent Plains ended. In the back, the party broke through the silence as the fernian showered their newest addition with an endless stream of questions.
"Is that true? With just a net?" Fiona looked at Cila like an idol.
"Just a net and my bare hands," the ranger answered as she put on a rough voice and mimicked the coup de grace with her hands.
"Wow!"
Behind the wizard, the monk shook his head as he heard the ranger's feats in the arena.
"So unnecessary," the jeru guardian said at the tail end of the party. "These Imperial bloodsports . . . violence and war is a necessary evil, not something to be glorified or recreated in peaceful times."
"I second that," the monk spoke up. "Vaelia, and the Empire especially, would be in a much better state if the common kin spent their time in the libraries instead of the arenas."
The cind rolled her eyes at the old tired argument from the monk and answered, "Ok grandpa, you want me to tuck you in for your afternoon nap too?"
Griff scornfully looked to the cind and answered with a disapproving grumble.
The staring battle between the ranger and the monk was broken when the fernian spoke.
"Maybe they can do both. As my father used to say, a good hunter is both in tune with the bow and the wilds around him. There's no reason why the kin can't enjoy both fighting and reading."
As the monk and ranger looked back to the fernian, the monk began to dwell on her words while the ranger smiled and ruffled the fernian's hair with tacit approval of her take.
"Hmm, maybe your right Fiona," the monk said as the wizard looked behind and added to the conversation.
"That she is, but of course it wouldn't hurt if the kin spent more time at the library than they do in the arena." As the wizard finished, the monk finally admitted, "You know, on second thought, perhaps the kin should stay away from the library. Could use fewer heretics," the monk said with a sly smile as Thalon let out an amused grunt.
The silence of the plains fell over the party again as they took in their surroundings. Finally, Cila spoke up. "So, what were the directions the goddess told you again?"
"Past the Ley River and deep into the Craddle Valley. Nestled between two rivers, you will find the ruins of our greatest shame. The ruins of Hopefield," the monk read from his notebook.
"Well, we passed the Ley River two days ago. Just have to find this Craddle Valley," the guardian added. The plain stretched out seemingly infinitely.
"I don't understand . . . Where in the dreggers is this valley?" the wizard said, noticeably frustrated by the silence of the plains and their flatness.
"Maybe it would help if we could clear our minds and pray for some guidance," the monk mused.
The wizard turned around. "For the last time, Griff, we are not gonna pray for the gods' help. That doesn't do anything. They never listen anyway."
YOU ARE READING
The First Wizard
FantasyThalon has been a monk his entire life. He worshiped and served the Gods whose magic wards off the dangers to the world of Vaelia. He believed their promise that the hardships of life will be rewarded with salvation upon death. Then he learns the tr...
