A Tamia's Tale, first book: Omen of Death

A puff of smoke rises in the air. This was a regular day for Yelena Vintera, lord of the botanic department of the Tower. The news had spread like wildfire during the day. The king was dead, and the primary suspect had fled: Safaran Sora. Holding her kiseru nonchalantly, she took another long drag from her pire, exhaling slowly. Even after all this time, there was still no trace of the succubus she was hunting.

Though she didn’t care that much. Now that Hazuki was gone, she could conduct her research again. With a mirror placed near her, she grabbed some tweezers and pinched the blue stone she had stolen from that foolish boy.

An eternaüm, a stone containing enough energy to power a country for multiple years. Unstable, yet coveted by many for its properties. The great king of mages was the only one recorded in history who managed to stabilize it and use it to its full potential, albeit he stopped for unknown reasons.

Was it the lack of resources? Yelena scoffed at the idea. It just meant that this king of mages was just a fraud, not a visionary.

“Is it ready?” A shrill voice echoed from the other side of the mirror.

“Yes,” Yelena answered, a smug smirk crossing her lips as she studied the stone. “I just need a few adjustments and it will be ready.”

She placed the stone inside a container, on a small receptacle encased in metal made specifically to contain the od radiating from it. Yelena had spent years designing one such as these, preparing it for this exact moment.

“Kekeke…,” a shrill and piercing laugh crackled through the mirror. “I still can’t believe you found one. Especially from a ‘young amateur’, like you call him.”

She glanced at the mirror, where a shadowy figure flickered on the other side—a small, grotesque creature, twisted in form and resembling nothing close to human. The creature's gleaming eyes peered at her through the mirror, filled with dark amusement.

“I can’t believe it either,” she sighed in contempt. “But it was thanks to your instructions that I found it, Kiku.”

The creature grinned, its jagged teeth flashing for a moment. “True enough. But you, my dear, have the mind to do what others could not. You’re the only one capable of harnessing this stone’s power.”

YYelena sneered, her ego swelling at the thought of her own brilliance. She knew she was a genius, far surpassing the mediocre minds at the Tower. They feared her—feared what she knew, feared what she was capable of. But she didn’t care. Her ambitions were far greater than theirs, and certainly greater than the now-dead king of mages. Politics and wars—those were meaningless distractions. The brewing conflict with the demons? Irrelevant.

“Where will you test it?” the creature asked while raising an eyebrow.

Yelena smirked. “In a small village south of here. There is a line of the earth here.”

The creature tilted its head, seemingly not pleased “You intend to strike already? Isn’t it a bit soon?”

“It isn’t.” Yelena echoed, dismissing his worries. “After all, if I succeed, you will let me see the research of the demons that served under Kaeris.”

“Kekeke… You clearly don’t lack ambition, mage. But let me tell you a piece of advice from someone older. You’re too impatient.” Kiku smirked, enjoying the cold gaze she shot at these words. “Having an ego is good, but it can sometimes lead to your downfall, young woman.”

Yelena exhaled slowly, forcing her boiling anger into submission. She would show him sooner or later, prove just how wrong he was. “I am not impatient,” she scoffed. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Kiku’s grin widened, the amusement clear in his voice. “And yet, you called this young man an amateur.” He chuckled, a grating sound that made Yelena's fingers twitch. “Are you sure you should underestimate everyone? Even Hazuki, the one you’ve been deceiving from the very start, might turn against you.”

Yelena’s eyes narrowed dangerously, her voice dripping with contempt. “Hazuki is nothing. A tool, nothing more. He won’t even realize what’s happening until it’s too late. He is too much of a fanatic to even see clearly.”

Kiku leaned closer to the mirror, his smile growing ever more wicked. “Ahh, but that’s all fine. Until people find out which side you’re on. I wonder how it feels like… To betray your own race.”

“Betray my race?” she echoed, her tone laced with mockery. “These magicless animals aren’t my race.”

Kiku sighed, his eyes narrowing in disgust. “I see. You truly are more of a monster than my own… Do whatever you want. If you succeed, I shall give what your heart desires.” And with that, the communication shut off, leaving Yelena in an eerie silence.

“Monster… Don’t act like you know me, goblin,” she whispered to herself, turning her back on the mirror.

With a swift motion, she closed the containment unit, securing the precious stone inside. Its energy pulsed faintly, radiating an almost hypnotic light through the cracks in the metal.

She was going to show them all, what it was like to discover the truth of magic.

The sun had set, casting long shadows over the road as Luka made his way home. His muscles ached from the intense training he'd put himself through all afternoon, yet it did nothing to ease the bitterness gnawing at his mind. The events of the funeral lingered, replaying over and over in his thoughts, each moment more infuriating than the last.

Even Daji, his master, had noticed the tension radiating off him during their training session. She’d pressed him, as she always did, to reveal what was bothering him. But her prying only made Luka more irritable. He had snapped at her, something he rarely did, and immediately regretted it. Not that it made him feel any better.

As he trudged down the quiet road, Luka replayed the confrontation with Jason. Maybe, just maybe, he'd been too honest.

It was true that he was angry, that he did what he could to survive here. But even he didn’t know if what he told him was the full truth. If it was, why did he rush to save Morgann? He was even more angry for not knowing what was going on in his head. Perhaps he was just tired from all the events, or perhaps he hadn’t fully recovered from his fatal wound not long ago.

Just to say, he wasn’t only wounded physically. This near-death experience broke something inside him. He didn’t seem scared anymore, or at least only in appearance.

A fake bravado had taken over his quiet nature, one that he hated. He was still afraid of everyone around him, but he used aggressivity to protect himself.

“What am I even doing?” he murmured to himself, hands in pockets as he stared at the paved ground. He wanted to go home even more now. To go back to a normal life, to see his parents and friends, and to live happily.

“If it isn’t my badly behaved student,” a flowery voice cut through his thoughts, making him sigh in exhaustion. He had already received a sermon from his master, and he didn’t want to endure another lecture from this teacher as well.

“Professor Faeborne,” he said, straightening his back with forced politeness, attempting to mask his fatigue with a veneer of respect. Uther stood before him, his vibrant robes fluttering in the evening breeze as he smiled faintly.

“I heard you’ve said quite hurtful things to my friend Jason,” he said, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “It seems you’re in a bad mood recently.”

Luka felt a flicker of guilt, remembering Morgann’s face and Jason’s anger when he told him he cared about no one here. “It was nothing personal. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

He attempted to push past the professor, but Uther muttered a few incantations while flipping through the pages of his book, causing Luka to freeze in place. “Is that so? I can understand your position, the fact that you’ve been through a lot, especially since I’m somewhat responsible for what happened to you.”

“You did nothing wrong, sir,” Luka sighed, frustration creeping into his voice. “You gave me a hint on how to go home; I took it. It was as simple as that.”

“And is it fruitful at least? That vixen isn’t scamming you, is she?” Uther narrowed his eyes while mentioning the goddess.

“I don’t know what happened between the both of you, but no. She is helping me a lot.”

Uther’s expression softened slightly, though the concern remained etched on his face. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, would you take a drink with me at the tavern? I wish to have a chat with you.”

“We’re already talking,” Luka replied dismissively, his cold gaze fixed on Uther. “If you have something to tell me, do it.”

Uther’s mouth opened in surprise but he quickly regained his composure. “Thank you. For saving Morgann,” he said sincerely, his voice filled with gratitude.

“Yeah, whatever,” Luka muttered, trying to brush off the sentiment. “Can you let me go? I’m tired, and I need to go back tomorrow early in the morning, or else I’m worried about the punishment my master has in mind.”

“I don’t know what happened between the both of you, but no. She is helping me a lot.”

Uther’s expression softened slightly, though concern remained etched on his face. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, would you take a drink with me at the tavern? I wish to have a chat with you.”

“We’re already talking,” Luka replied dismissively, his cold gaze fixed on Uther. “If you have something to tell me, do it.”

Uther’s mouth opened in surprise but he quickly regained his composure. “Thank you. For saving Morgann,” he said sincerely, his voice filled with gratitude.

“Yeah, whatever,” Luka muttered, trying to brush off the sentiment. “Can you let me go? I’m tired, and I need to go back tomorrow morning, or else I’m worried about the punishment my master has in mind.”

Uther studied him for a moment, noting the fatigue in Luka’s posture and the tension etched into his features. “I feel like you’re not okay. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what you said to Jason?”

“There’s nothing to discuss. I spoke my mind for the first time after arriving here. That’s all there is to it. I don’t want to be in any more mess from now on.”

He hated it. From his perspective, he wasn’t speaking his mind in its entirety. But if being rude and a bit honest meant being free from trouble, he couldn’t care less about these people’s feelings, even if it was counter to his nature.

Uther’s gaze softened, resigning himself to stop for today. “Alright, I will let you rest. But please reconsider your words. Especially for Kanami’s sake.”

That sentence made Luka’s fist clench. “Why the hell do you all care about Kanami now of all times? Isn’t she the ‘dog of the princess’? Wasn’t she imprisoned for nothing? Seriously, you all should stop acting like you care.”

Uther recoiled in surprise but didn’t shout back. He simply stared at Luka with a pitying expression that, for some reason, calmed Luka down. “I’m sorry,” Uther said softly. “I shall leave you now. Have a good night.”

The young man watched him go, his robe fluttering as he took each step. He hadn’t meant to snap at him; the professor had been nothing but kind to him. But his mentioning Kanami like he was worried about her made him irrationally angry. It was as if what she told him back in Ryuuji had no meaning, as if everyone cared about her in their own way but that was clearly false.

Perhaps Uther cares for her in his own way, but the same couldn’t be said for everyone else.

What he told her that day in Ryuuji, he meant it, every word. Yet, he couldn’t get attached to her, he didn’t want to.

Sighing heavily, he reached for the door of the tavern and pushed it open. The familiar scent of booze and warm soup greeted him. He hesitated at the threshold, feeling a sense of loss wash over him.

“Heya! My little magic trainer!” Saki’s voice boomed in front of him as she jumped to see him. “Come in! I got you a warm seat with Viktor!”

Something inside him churned. Still, he was glad to have found such wonderful people in this place.

With a forced smile, he swept his feet on the doormat. “Good to me! What’s for dinner?”

In the prison beneath the castle, Uther sighed as he swept his feet on the doormat of the interrogation room. His tentative to talk with Luka had proven fruitless and he was left with even more questions than answers at the moment.

The boy reminded him more and more of Wrimbo for some reason. This mock aggression towards his peers, the need to distance himself from others—it was exactly what the knight had done during his search for revenge. Even though he didn’t talk with Luka that much, he still felt that he wasn’t telling the whole truth. What Jason had reported during the funeral didn’t match with the boy’s usual demeanor.

As he settled into a chair, he rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on him. He had seen this pattern before, and it troubled him deeply. But of course, Luka was a completely different person, it was an irrational thought to think the same could happen.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Luka was dangerous. He was weak and helpless, he posed no threat to the kingdom. And while he was worried about him, he had far more pressing matters to take care of.

“So, Archibald,” he started, opening his eyes slowly towards the man sitting in front of him. “Are you certain you had no clue on what your father was plotting?”

Archibald shifted in his chair, his dark hair covering his eyes as he leaned toward the table on his chair. “I will only talk to Captain Borone,” he said slowly, his voice barely containing a silent rage.

The professor studied him closely and sighed. This was going to be difficult. No one could have predicted that the traitor could be Safaran of all people. The same man who helped rebuild the city after the attack of the king of mages, the same man who saved the Soraians from the incoming poverty after the events of two years ago.

“Jason Borone isn’t the captain anymore; he is retired. I was asked to conduct your interrogation because I know you,” Uther continued, trying to establish a connection. “I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, Archibald. I believe there’s more to this story than meets the eye.”

Archibald shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the weight of the chains on his ankles and arms pressing down on his skin. “I appreciate that, Professor. But I need to talk to my father. I still don’t believe any of this farce,” he raised his head slowly, his blue eyes shining in the dark room. “I won’t know for sure until Captain Borone tells me in person what happened.”

The young man’s determination sent a shiver down Archibald’s spine. “Listen,” he began cautiously, “I know this is hard to accept. But you must understand that Morgann was almost murdered by Julius. Without Luka, who knows what would have happened.”

Archibald’s eyes darkened, the color draining from his face. “What was Kanami doing, wasn’t she there?”

“Morgann confessed having dismissed her so that she could be alone. Granted, I can’t blame her for thinking the place was safe, it was inside the castle after all.”

The man greeted his teeth. “So it really was close, huh?” he whispered to himself.

“I will let you rest for today,” Uther sighed, recognizing that the interrogation wasn’t yielding any useful information. It was clear the young man didn’t know anything about his father’s plot, his fairy eyes never lied. Whether that was because the man believed his son wasn’t trustworthy enough or because he wanted to protect him in case things went wrong, Uther couldn’t say. “We will talk again tomorrow and may decide whether or not to free you.”

Archibald nodded but didn’t speak, his expression a mixture of anger and worry. As Uther stood to leave, he felt the weight of the young man’s gaze on him, heavy with unasked questions and an unspoken plea for help.

“Professor,” Archibald called out just as Uther reached the door. The urgency in his voice made Uther turn back.

“Yes?”

“If you free me, I swear to make light of what’s going on through my father’s head.”

Uther’s heart skipped a bit upon hearing the devotion in his voice. “I promise you, I will do everything in my power to free you if you are innocent.”

With that, he closed the door and asked for a guard to escort the boy to his cell. Now that the traitor was revealed, things were going to get dangerous from now on…

“We’re here,” Julius’s muffled voice announced as the carriage stopped near the encampment.

Far up north, close to the mountains of Dreikheim, the Emperor’s army had settled its personal garrison. The air was crisp and biting, and the sound of clanging metal and shouted commands echoed in the chill. As the carriage door swung open, Safaran stepped out, his plump figure landing on the snow.

Tents stretched as far as the eye could see, flickering campfires illuminating the faces of men and women clad in armor, their expressions relaxed.

“Well, what do we have here?” the loud voice of Kenshin greeted the traitor while spinning his spear around. “Turning tail?”

“This is none of your business,” Safaran huffed angrily, trying to push past the soldier. “Where is your lord?”

“Go to the tent in the middle of the encampment,” Kenshin replied, a grin spreading across his face. “But are you sure you’re going to be able to walk there fatty?”

“Watch your tongue,” Julius’s cold voice cut through the mixed blood’s banter.

“Alright, alright!” the warrior chuckled while picking his ear nonchalantly. “I hope you have a plan, cuz the boss is really hard and ready to go and raid your stupid country.”

Safaran bristled at the taunt, his face flushing with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “I do! Now shut up and go prepare yourself,” he snapped back, his frustration boiling over.

Ignoring the jibe, he moved past the soldier, the crunch of the snow beneath his feet echoing in the cold air as he made his way to the central tent. The looming structure came into view, its flaps fluttering slightly in the icy breeze. Safaran took a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation.

Inside the tent, the atmosphere was relaxed, filled with the smell of incense and the muted sound of giggling. The flickering lantern light cast eerie shadows across the faces of the emperor and his mage making out.

Safaran stopped dead in his tracks, shocked by the sight in front of him. The Emperor, all the while the situation was grave and going out of control, was frolicking with his personnel retainer in a lustful embrace.

Clearing his throat with a flushed face, Safaran stepped further into the tent, trying to regain his composure. “Your Majesty,” he started, forcing his voice to sound authoritative despite the surprising scene. “I’m sorry to interrupt you but we need to talk.”

The Emperor pulled away from Aurelia, his expression shifting from surprise to annoyance quickly. “Seriously? That couldn’t wait old man?”

Safaran swallowed hard, knowing that the man could snap at any moment. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt you, but I’ve been discovered.”

“I know that already!” the Emperor yelled while keeping his retainer close, ignoring the fact she tried to retreat from embarrassment. “You fucked it up, so what?”

“With all due respect,” Julius intervened, bowing slightly. “I am the one at fault here.”

“I don’t care! You’re his bodyguard, which means he fucked up too! A good leader takes his subordinates' failures for himself as well!”

“What surprisingly wise words coming from you, my lord,” Aurelia interjected.

“Of course, I’m the wisest! Gahaha!” The Emperor laughed heartily, seemingly unfazed by his retainer’s backhanded compliment.

“So, what shall we do?” Safaran asked cautiously, eyeing the Emperor warily.

“We’re raiding this shithole, of course!” the Emperor grinned like a predator. “Even with two hundred of my men, it’s an easy task!”

“I’m not sure that was the original plan, my lord…” Aurelia interjected, the color draining from her face.

“I know you may have the ring of the king, your Majesty,” Safaran added. “But is it really wise to attack Sora with such a small army?”

The Emperor’s grin faltered for a moment, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. “You doubt my judgment, Safaran?”

“Not at all,” Safaran replied quickly, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “But we need to consider the consequences. Sora is fortified and has a larger standing army. A direct assault could lead to heavy losses.”

“You Soraians never fought in a war in hundreds of years,” Andreas Edensveel huffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “My country has been fending off demons since then. Like I said, it will be easy.” He waved his hand at them dismissively. “Now get the fuck out of here! We’re walking towards Sora tomorrow!”

Safaran stepped back, holding back any retorts he had in mind. “As you wish, your Majesty. And about my position as prefect of Sora once this is all said and done?”

“You get it! I don’t care, now leave me alone!”

With a slight grin, Safaran bowed and stepped outside the tent, the cold air hitting him like a wave.

“This won’t be easy,” Julius said.

“Perhaps. But the Emperor’s ring strengthens the men he made a pact with. One soldier equals at least ten in this army,” Safaran said, recalling what had happened to any unwilling country that had submitted to Andreas. “If we are lucky, the army of Sora might surrender once Fyr’s soldiers enter the city and they realize how strong they are.”

“I don’t think Jason or Uther would go down without a fight.”

“You’re right,” Safaran gritted his teeth in anger. “If only that otherworlder didn’t meddle with my plan, everything would already be resolved without any casualties.”

“You mean besides your niece and brother.”

“Shut it,” Safaran shot an icy glare at his masked retainer. “It’s all for the sake of humanity.”

“Hmph,” Julius snorted, blowing air out of his nose. He said nothing more, and then, with a flick of his wrist, disappeared in a dark mist, vanishing into the shadows.

Left alone in the biting cold, Safaran took a moment to collect his thoughts. That otherworlder ruined his plans and survived because of some miracle. Now, everything was left to Andreas’s performance.

“We are close to the end now…” he muttered under his breath, a cloud of condensation rising from his mouth.

After all, his plan to repair Wrimbo’s mistakes couldn’t be realized without shedding friendly blood.

The small village of Sourlake. A peaceful suburb autonomous municipality not far from the capital of Sora, Eran. The majority of its citizens were farmers, simple men and women living simple lives next to a lake where it was said that some fairies and witches were hidden.

In this early Spring, the air was crisp and filled with the earthy scent of tilled soil and blooming wildflowers. Children played by the water’s edge and the fountain, their laughter echoing across the tranquil landscape, passing over the sound of the creaking of the windmills.

Elderly villagers sat on porches, watching lazily the kids playing on the ground while sharing stories of old tales that inhabited the land.

In this place, even though the capital was near, war was far away. The conversations here turned around what the meal of the day would be, the rumors of a young man falling in love with someone, and the strange sight of a woman wearing a rich dress and a black hat with a feather strolling by, looking for something.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the villagers continued their light-hearted banter.

“Hey, look! I’ve caught a beetle!” one of the children exclaimed, holding her prize high.

“That’s great, my dear,” her mother replied, hanging the laundry on the line, the fabric fluttering gently in the breeze.

“Put that down,” her father said, focused on chopping wood nearby. “Would you want to be held that way too?”

“But it’s cute!” the girl protested, grinning as the beetle wriggled in her small hands.

“Cute or not, it’s not a toy,” her father insisted, shaking his head with a smile. “You can observe it, but don’t touch it.”

“Yeah! Let it go! It’s gross!” another kid chimed in, rushing over to her.

Reluctantly, the girl nodded, carefully placing the beetle back on the ground. “Alright…” As if enjoying its freedom, the insect quickly scattered away, hiding behind the creaks of the house.

“See? It’s happy to find its freedom,” her father explained, wiping his brow. “Everyone deserves to live the life they want.”

“What about the pig on the porch then?” the girl asked, her innocent eyes wide with curiosity.

Her father froze for a moment, glancing toward the well-fed pig lazily resting on the porch, oblivious to its future. He stammered, “Huh… How about you play tag with the others, huh?” he quickly changed the subject, clearly not prepared to answer that question.

The girl giggled and, with a quick nod, dashed off to join her friends, leaving her father shaking his head with a bemused smile.

“Not every life is free dear,” his wife chimed in, chuckling at his attempt at giving a lesson.

“True,” he admitted, wiping his hands on his apron, “but I don’t believe that any life should be considered lesser than ours.”

His wife chuckled softly, “Well… It seems someone didn’t think that way.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” the man asked, confused.

“None of this is real. We are all dead.”

The man blinked, his heart racing as the familiar warmth of his village vanished, replaced by the acrid smell of smoke and ash. The vibrant colors of Sourlake had been consumed by a horrifying scene of desolation—scorched earth stretched endlessly before him. The sky was dark, heavy with clouds, and the once peaceful village was reduced to smoldering ruins. The sounds of laughter and chatter were gone, replaced by the crackling of fire.

Half of his body was missing and he felt nothing. The last light of his brain went out, leaving nothing but a mangled corpse behind.

Sourlake was no more, only a single crater caused by someone…

…Who deemed their life worthy of a simple experiment.