Ragnarok: Creed of the Forbidden Guild

The Ice Aesir and the Lord of Smoke

Author's Note

The following novel is based from Mr. Lemuel Magalona's story, Pillars of The Dark Guild, which in turn is based on Ragnarok Online. My story takes its ground as an epilogue of what Mr. Magalona has already established, so, readers may not understand some points. I will try my best to explain them along my story. However, if you still find some events, persons or things unclear, please refer to Mr. Magalona's work.

The Ragnarok World is property of Gravity Corp.

All characters that appear in this novel are fiction. No identification with actual persons, living or dead was intended or should be inferred.

Rowell Isles Monreal

Chapter 1: The Ice Aesir and the Lord of Smoke

Geffen, the City of Magic. The city remarkable for producing Midgard's finest magicians, and wizards. Despite its popularity, the city is still enveloped with a humble, or in other words, normal atmosphere.

Everyday, like any other day, merchants would sell their wares and housewives would haggle. Children would be playing at every alley. Music and merriment would be at any corner; Bards would play while dancers move in perfect synch of the rhythm. Sharp clanks would be heard at Blacksmith shops as sparks fly from burning metals in every pound. Priests or Priestesses and alchemists, with their students would come and visit the great Geffen Academy Library. Tourists in forms of knights, monks, rogues and hunters would be seen at inns, exchanging information, or stand in awe and wonder at the beauty of the infamous yet mysterious Geffen Tower.

Yes, everyday, like any other day, Geffen is a city like any other. Except maybe for the rebuilding that's happening in the city* and the ball of smoke that is trailing upwards from the Geffen Academy of Magic, everything would be the same.

Within the outer bailey of the academy, a young magician, a male with silver hair and golden eyes, was hurling stones against a wall. Evidently furious, he kicked and cursed when there were no more pebbles to throw. He grew tired and fell flat on his buttocks, gasping for air.

From a distance, there was a female mage watching him behind a tree. Her pitying green eyes under her thick, pink hair was searching him, waiting for the right time, for the correct time to comfort. When she thought that the moment was then, she unveiled herself and sat beside the other who was looking away. Eyes cast down, she began.

"I did not laugh." She picked a clover and waited for an answer. Still, there was silence. She sighed and played with the twig instead.

"You...you did not?" There was a reply. Alighted, she confirmed eagerly. "I truly did not!"

His features softened, and for a time she thought he will face her, but it seemed he hesitated and spoke again.

"I thought I had it right! But something went wrong while I was chanting the final verse. Did I miss a word?" He asked.

She thought for a while. The whole chant was full of errors; it was not just a word! He mispronounced several names and skipped a whole line! Not to mention..."

She was interrupted with a light tap on her shoulder. "Elysa! Did I miss a word?" He pursued the question.

"Uhh? I was too excited to listen to your chant! Yes! Yes! That is right! So, I do not know." She said, turning again to her clover, hoping he will not notice.

And it seems he did not for silence returned to their midst. For a long time not a word passed between the two. At last, when the stillness was more than she can bear and the truth was choking her, she announced with indignation; "It was all your fault!" Then Elysa stood.