Chapter One

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Matthew Vallorn has never asked for much in his life. Peace and quiet, space, and enough resources to study the Fade. But he never asked for the death and destruction that followed the opening of the Fade. He knew the minute the giant hole in the sky opened. Never once did he want his house to blow up, or for his friends to be killed by demons from the Rift in the middle of his house.

Matthew stands amid what's left of his house, electricity pulsing through his veins as he stares down the Arcane Horror. It's the first of its kind he's encountered in all his travels of the Fade. He thrusts his hands out toward the demon and it blocks it easily. Matthew hasn't dipped into his Lyrium supply for years, but its vital to now. He feels his skin light up as he rips the demon in half, destroying it.

Matthew turns to the Rift, and extends his consciousness toward it, and feels the fighting of all the demons trying to get through. He reaches both hands out toward it,  trying to close it. After a few moments the Lyrium in his veins erupts into harsh pain, and he collapses to his knees. Lyrium on fade rifts: bad.

Matthew stands and walks toward what remains of his room, and shifts through it. He finds his staff, a dagger, and a short blade. He sheaths the blade in a destroyed piece of clothing, looping it through a belt loop and wrapping it around the blade. Matthew then slides the dagger into the same thing. He finds a lose pouch of gold- enough to get him to his destination- the Circle of Magi.

Matthew exits his property, leaning on his staff. A spirit managed to hit him in the fray of battle. Matthew begins to walk towards the woods, feeling the desolation hit him, and shoving it down deep. He's having none of that, not when his life could very well depend on how focused he is.

Matthew comes up upon the forest and takes a deep breath, glancing back at the now demon infested wreckage of his house and sighing. He enters the forest, vowing to return once he can find a way to vanquish the demons and Rift.
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Matthew walks for what feels like hours, having become very out of shape after years of doing nothing. He doesn't encounter resistance, which is either very reassuring or worrying, he hasn't quite decided yet.

Matthew doesn't stop for anything- he walks for what can now be safely called hours. He finally reaches a village, shivering. Snow. Great. Matthew bitterly thinks, entering an Inn.

Matthew walks toward the Barkeeper, and sets a coin down.

"We don't serve your kind here, Elf" the bartender says gruffly "and especially not apostates."

"Do not worry" Matthew answers, his voice scratchy. "I am a Circle Mage."

"Haven't you heard?" The man asks, surprise evident in his deep voice "the Circle is gone! The mages rebelled and destroyed each respective Circle. Now all that's left are Apostates and dead mages."

Matthew feels as if he's just taken a punch to the gut, gasping slightly "n- not possible." His voice shakes.

"Leave, mage. Before the Templars show up to end you." The barkeeper barks, the threat obvious.

"Very well" Matthew whispers, exiting. He left a coin. He doesn't care.

Matthew walks into the woods until he finds a cave. It's more of a hole in the ground, hit shelter is shelter. Matthew gathers firewood and lights it with veilfire. He leans against a wall of the hole in the ground and drifts off to sleep.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Feb 02, 2017 ⏰

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