Chapter 1: Lest

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Unyielding rain poured down incessantly while Lest, a sixteen-year-old youth with a fair complexion and dark hair, looked out of the window of their humble home in the village of Xeldoria. His silver-hued eyes, a distinctive trait common to all Xeldorians, scanned the scene.The village itself was an ancient ruin gifted to his people by the king, a remnant of a long-lost tribe.

 Lest's mother, Lyferia, was busy patching up leaks in the roof with the assistance of a conjured Wislow, a colorful bird with a beak like hammer. Lyferia's left eye is noticeably glowing bright jade. It is a sign that she is in control of her conjure. She is holding a wood plank to cover the leak while the wislow hammer the nails in. Her auborn, curly hair keeps on interfering to her sight so she keeps brushing it with her hand. She bears a prominently visible burn scar on her left hand, which extends across nearly the entirety of her palm and fingers.

Its been 3 days ago since Lyferia came home from the north fort and Lest is more than happy that she is back from a long time being away.

Lest couldn't help but express his concern about the persistent rain and its potential impact on the upcoming Rugartha ceremony. "The rain shows no sign of stopping, and the ceremony is about to start," he remarked to his mother.

Lyferia reassured her son, saying, "Don't worry, we shall simply don our coats and make our way."

Lest's emotions were a whirlwind of excitement. He was thrilled because the day of Rugartha was a momentous occasion where young individuals like himself would be honored as new conjurers. They would showcase their talent in a small demonstration before the entire village. Lest had dedicated his life to honing his abilities, learning everything his mother had taught him whenever shes at home. She had imparted knowledge on various techniques, such as painting swiftly, a skill crucial in battle, as well as mastering different art styles. However, he had yet to summon any creatures, as only those bestowed with a "wisk".
It is neither a brush nor a quill, yet possesses the remarkable ability to adapt to its owner's needs, conjuring whatever is required.

The time had finally come for Lest to receive his own wisk and prove himself as a conjurer.

The drizzle gradually reduced to a light mist after a few minutes, allowing Lest and his mother to venture outside. Lyferia handed Lest a worn-out jade hue coat, and together, they made their way towards the Hall of Rugartha. The stone streets of Xeldoria had become damp and treacherous, making every step a careful dance. People traversing them found it challenging to reach their destinations without slipping or stumbling. Lyferia, however, discarded her cloth shoes, opting for the freedom of bare feet, which provided better traction on the slick surfaces. Lest followed her lead, shedding his own footwear, as the soles of their shoes, made from thin layers of wood bark, proved inadequate for the conditions.

Xeldoria's streets were akin to an intricate network of tree roots, winding and branching out in a labyrinthine pattern throughout the village. The layout had proven difficult for outsiders to navigate, this is caused by limited housing within the ruins when it was awarded to them, every inch of land was maximized to build homes and accommodate Xeldorian families.

Within the center village of Xeldoria, Villagers had repurposed the largest ruin into a modest auditorium for their people.

As they strolled through the lingering drizzle, their attention was drawn to a weary group of individuals entering the gates of Xeldoria on conjured horses. The signs of exhaustion were evident, indicating they had been traveling for a day or two. Lyferia hastened towards them, leaving Lest standing alone, his curiosity piqued.

Upon reaching their position, Lyferia confronted the closest member of the group who dismounted from his conjured horse, which promptly dissipated into mist.

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