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

A long time ago, a group of bandits reigned over the country of Sora. Lootings, burglaries, fights, they partook in all forms of illegal activities. Wherever money was involved, they were there to take their share.

Their name: The Blue Falcons. At their helm was a young giant of a man, towering over two meters tall, his broad frame and rough hands bearing the marks of a life spent toiling on a struggling farm just outside the capital. His family had long been burdened by the weight of an unyielding noble’s taxes, scraping together just enough to survive. When yet another meager harvest left them without the means to pay what was demanded, the young man reached a breaking point.

With a mixture of frustration and desperation, he took a bold step—ambushing a merchant's carriage. It was a simple heist; no one was harmed, as the mere sight of his massive form and determined glare was enough to send the merchants fleeing in terror, leaving behind a cart full of goods and coins. The haul was substantial enough to cover the farm's overdue payments, and for a moment, it seemed like a victory.

But the reprieve was short-lived. The noble's demands only grew harsher, citing "late fees" and "interest accrued" for their so-called delayed payments. The farm was crumbling, the soil hard and unyielding, ravaged by years of bad weather and poor harvests. It had been a long time since they’d seen a season of healthy crops, and no amount of hard work seemed to be enough to break the cycle of poverty.

Determined to help his family and others suffering under the noble’s rule, the young man made a fateful decision: if one robbery had worked, why not more? He began to gather a following—discontented farmers, disgruntled workers, and desperate souls who had grown tired of being exploited.

While wealthier farmers received help from the academy’s experiments that boosted crop growth, the poorer ones were left behind, struggling with hunger and worsening conditions.

The young man and his followers decided to take matters into their own hands. They would steal from the corrupt nobles and wealthy farmers who profited off the people’s hardships and distribute the stolen money to those in need. With careful planning, they targeted their raids to hit those who exploited others, always keeping the goal of helping their families rebuild their lives.

For a while, it worked. The element of surprise played to their advantage, and they were able to carry out most raids without causing injury, following the leader's principle of protecting those in need. His upbringing had taught him to be a strong and reliable protector for his family, a value that shaped him during these difficult times.

But as their success and numbers grew, so did the attention they attracted. The nobles began to bolster their defenses, hiring mercenaries and placing bounties on the heads of the Blue Falcons. Soon, the once straightforward raids became more dangerous, as skirmishes with armed guards became common. The young man knew it was only a matter of time before things escalated further, and the group would have to decide whether to keep fighting or face the consequences of their actions.

However, things took a turn for the worse. Though the raids had been effective, one day, while they were targeting a reserve owned by the same noble who had pushed his parents to the brink of despair, disaster struck. It was an ambush. The noble had anticipated their move and hired a group of mercenaries, well-armed and prepared, to lay in wait.

The moment the Blue Falcons breached the reserve, the mercenaries sprang into action, attacking with ruthless precision. Chaos erupted as swords clashed and arrows flew. The ambush was brutal, and the Blue Falcons, unprepared for such fierce resistance, found themselves crumbling under the attack.

Desperate to protect his comrades, the young leader grabbed a nearby lid to use as a makeshift shield. Charging into the fray, he tried to hold back the mercenaries and buy time for his followers to regroup. But the odds were against them, and even his immense strength was not enough to turn the tide. The leader was captured, and one of the original members of the Blue Falcons was killed during the ambush.

News of the capture and the death quickly spread, sparking outrage in the lower city. It soon became clear that the Blue Falcons hadn't just been helping local farmers; they had also provided aid to the needy in the slums of the capital. The revelation of their broader support caused an uproar, with the people of the lower city rising in anger. Protests soon escalated into riots as the citizens demanded justice and voiced their frustration with the nobles' harsh treatment of the common folk.

The unrest grew, forcing the knights to step in to restore order. The streets became a battleground, with clashes breaking out between rioters and knights. Tensions continued to mount, and the situation in the city spiraled further out of control.

Back in the castle’s cells, the leader heard the news from the guards, some of whom shared the townspeople’s frustrations. His initial hope to make a difference had now twisted into something far darker. The Blue Falcons, without his guidance, had become a fully-fledged bandit group, rampaging across the countryside. What began as a movement to help the oppressed had devolved into chaos, with the remaining members taking out their fury on anyone who crossed their path.

Atrocities were committed in the name of justice. Innocents were targeted, not out of necessity but in a blind rage. The line between noble and corrupt had blurred, as homes were burned down and stores looted indiscriminately. The cries for change turned into screams of terror, and protests escalated into acts of vandalism and arson.

The once righteous cause now looked like a mere excuse for violence. Food stores were raided not to feed the hungry but to send a message. Entire reserves were set ablaze in pointless displays of defiance.

The leader, powerless in his cell, could do nothing but listen as the reports of destruction reached him. People were now paying the price of his actions and he began sinking into the pits of despair, counting his days forgotten in this cell. Friends he had fought alongside were now branded as criminals, their dreams of a better life twisted into nightmares.

Time passed, and with the years, the knights of Sora successfully disbanded the Blue Falcons, arresting most of the remaining members. But the leader remained in his cell, forgotten, a last remnant of a once-promising movement.

Years passed, and the man grew older, his beard thick and unkempt, reaching below his chin. As the seasons changed outside, the leader would sometimes hear the distant sounds of a child’s laughter, playing around the prison to hide from its father. The world outside had moved on, his parents died soon after from grief, and the people he once called friends had either passed on or were arrested, and yet the days passed, the scars of time etching lines onto his face.

On quiet nights, he would often think back to the early days of the Blue Falcons, remembering the camaraderie, the good laughs they had, the shared vision of a better future.

But one day, after what felt like an eternity in darkness, the door of his cell rang as small footsteps approached him. It was early in the morning, too early for his daily ration or even for a visitor. A young girl appeared, dressed in a bright white dress that contrasted sharply with the gloom of the prison. Her nut-brown hair bounced as she approached, and her blue eyes shone with an innocent curiosity.

The child peered into the darkness of his cell, looking at him with a mix of fear and fascination. “Are you a monster?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Of course, she had never seen someone this big, his hands were twice the size of her head at the time.

The tired man blinked, taken aback by her question. “Are you scared of monsters?” the man replied hoarsely, his voice trembling from disuse.

The girl shook her head, a soft smile blooming on her face. “No. My friend is a monster,” she said, taking a cautious step closer. “Are you a bad monster or a good one?”

The question hung in the air. He looked down at his hands, calloused and scarred from years of struggle. “I used to think I was a good man,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper yet deep and resonating within the cell walls. “But I’ve done bad things. Terrible things.”

The girl frowned, her brow furrowing in thought. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be bad forever, right? You can be good again.”

For the first time in years, the man raised his head. His tired eyes, burdened by darkness and regret, stared at her. The flicker of hope she sparked began to take root, reminding him of who he once was.

“Do you really think so?” he asked, his voice still hoarse but slightly more animated.

The girl nodded vigorously, her hair bouncing with the motion. “Yes! Even if you did something bad, if you apologize, then it’s all good!” Her confidence was infectious. Her smile shone like a bright star, the first one he had seen from his cell.

“Why are you here, mister?” the young girl asked.

“I should ask the same,” the man replied, chuckling slightly. “It’s not a place for a girl like you.”

The girl tilted her head, pouting slightly. “I’m a princess! I do what I want!”

The man raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement returning to his tired face. “A princess, you say? Well, that explains why you’re so brave.”

She beamed at the compliment, her confidence soaring. “Yes! And princesses help everyone! That’s what my daddy says. So I came to see if there were other bad monsters here,” she said, crossing her arms before frowning slightly. “But you’re not scary at all. You seem sad.”

“I guess I am sad,” he admitted, scratching his beard that now resembled a lion’s mane.

“Were you a knight?”

“No,” the man chuckled while shaking his head. “I cannot be a knight.”

“Why?”

The man hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Because knights are supposed to protect people, not hurt them.”

The young girl blinked at him, her eyes turning sad. “Did you hurt people?”

The man lowered his head, feeling a wave of shame hit him deep. “Even if I told myself I was doing good, I still hurt a lot of people in the end.”

“Why would you do that?” she asked softly, her voice laced with confusion.

“I thought I was helping,” he replied, his voice thick with regret. “I wanted to protect my family and friends, so I took from others. But I didn’t realize that hurting them only made things worse.”

“Hmm,” she pondered, tilting her head. “But you didn’t mean to be bad, right?”

“No,” he admitted, looking back up at her. “I didn’t mean to be bad. I thought I was fighting for the right cause.”

Suddenly, footsteps approached in their direction.

“Oh no! If they catch me, Daddy is going to scold me!” the child jumped in surprise, looking around in disarray. “Sorry Mister Monster! I need to go!” With that, she turned and dashed away from the cell, her bright dress fluttering behind her.

As he watched her retreating figure, a small smirk crept across his dry lips. How long had it been since he felt a flicker of joy? How could he forget the reason he fought so hard back then—to protect them?

The next morning, right at the same hour, that same girl returned. Her nut-brown hair caught the light as she approached, a spark of mischief in her blue eyes.

“Hi again, Mister Monster!” she chirped.

Their conversations blossomed during those brief visits. Each time, they would talk about her day, her dreams of becoming a princess who could help everyone and the fun she had in the gardens outside the castle. He shared stories of his past, of laughter and friendship, though he often kept the darker parts to himself.

Yet, each time they spoke, she would inevitably get startled by the sound of approaching footsteps, and in a flurry of panic, she would rush away, giggling as she fled.

Despite the short nature of their meetings, the man found himself looking forward to those moments of connection. It was a small thing, but he would always be grateful to her for this.

Two years passed, and then one day, she returned for the last time, holding a small shield in her hands. The young girl had grown, though she still retained the innocence of childhood, her imagination filled with sugar and rainbows.

“Look, Mister Monster!” she exclaimed, beaming up at him. “I made this for you!” She held out the shield, decorated with vibrant colors and a crude drawing of a smiling sun in the center.

The man couldn’t help but smile at the sight, his heart swelling with a mix of pride and warmth. “You made this?” he asked, touched by her thoughtfulness.

He examined the shield for a while before his eyes widened. It was a beautifully crafted piece made of metal he had only seen in the academy. A metal enchanted with magic.

“Take it!” the young girl insisted, holding the shield out between the bars of the cell, her eyes sparkling with determination.

“W-Where did you get this?” the man stammered, his heart racing. “Put it back where you found it.”

“It’s mine! I made it!” she exclaimed, her voice unwavering. “Well, my daddy helped me. He says it’s special, and I wanted you to have it because you’re going to be good now!”

He shook his head in incomprehension. “You… For me?”

The girl pouted, her small hands gripping the shield tighter. “You said you had hurt people, right? Then a shield is perfect! You can protect people now!”

A wave of emotion surged through him. The young girl, while being obvious, had a point; a shield was indeed a tool for protection. The smile she drew on it was also a reminder to be good…

A good shield to protect people.

“I don’t know if I should…” he murmured, his head lowering.

“Of course you can! You’re my friend!” she insisted, her eyes wide and earnest. “From now on, you are a knight! Order of the princess!”

“Order of the Princess…” he repeated, a small smile creeping onto his face. “You’re still playing that, I see.”

“I’m not playing!” the girl pouted again, throwing him the shield with all of her strength, which wasn’t much. “I really am a princess,” she declared, crossing her arms in a regal manner.

Footsteps approached as she announced it and a man came from behind her.

“Oh, daddy!” the girl shouted, raising her hands up in the air.

The man, dressed in regal blue clothing knelt down to catch her. “Come here, Morgann.” he took her in his arms and hugged her tightly.

“I was just talking to Mister Monster!” she exclaimed, pointing toward the man in the cell. “He must become a knight!”

The father’s gaze shifted to the man, his expression a mix of skepticism and curiosity. “A knight?” he repeated, a smile creeping on his face.

“Yes! He’s going to be good now!” Morgann insisted, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

The man studied the leader, who had been lost in his own thoughts until now. There was something different about the way the leader held himself—a spark ignited by the girl’s belief in him.

“Fine, I accept,” the father said with a sigh, making the man in the cell raise his head in alarm.

“Darian Galterr,” the king announced, his voice echoing between the walls of the prison. “You have purged your sentence and as per my daughter’s will, you shall be knighted by her.”

Darian felt a whirlwind of emotions crash over him. The gravity of the moment settled in his chest, as he could hardly process what was happening. He had lived in darkness for so long that the prospect of a second chance felt surreal.

“Your Highness?” Darian stammered, hardly believing that the man in front of him is the king. “How…? Why?”

“After several years of investigation directed by Jason Borone, you have been proven... less guilty than we initially thought,” the king continued, his expression serious but not unkind. “The revolt wasn’t simply a matter of good versus evil. There were injustices committed by both sides. We hold our part of the responsibility for what happened, as you must hold yours.”

Darian’s heart jumped at his words. “So, I’m not innocent,” he said quietly.

“No,” the king replied bluntly. “But you are not entirely to blame, either. The Blue Falcons were born from noble ideals but became twisted along the way. We failed to see the signs and act accordingly. Still, you pillaged and caused damage to the people of Sora for a long time.”

“I accept this sentence,” Darian bowed his head, his gaze falling to the shield the young princess gave him.

“Now, will you take that shield and help the people of Sora? Or will you refuse my daughter’s wish?” the king asked, his tone challenging yet encouraging.

“This is hardly fair, Your Highness,” Darian replied, a smirk forming on his lips.

Darian looked up, a faint smirk forming on his lips. “This is hardly fair, Your Highness,” he replied. “You’re making it difficult to refuse.”

The king laughed heartily at Darian's comment. “You are right! How could anyone refuse such a cute kid?” He glanced down at Morgann.

Morgann’s eyes sparkled as she leaned toward Darian, her expression eager. “Please, Mister Monster… I mean, Sir Darian! You promised to be a good knight, remember?”

Darian’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “How could I forget?” he said, gripping the shield’s handle firmly. “I will uphold my promise, Princess Morgann. I will be the knight you believe I can be.”

Darian bowed, lowering his head just before her. As he did, Morgann’s small hand reached through the bars and gently touched his head, stroking his messy hair slightly. “Then go forth, my knight,” she said softly, her voice filled with a hint of regal authority. “And become the shield the people of Sora need.”

The king, Albius, raised an eyebrow in surprise. “When did you start talking like that, Morgann?”

She grinned up at him, her arms raised high in triumph. “I copied Daddy!” she exclaimed, giggling as she did. “You always say stuff like that when you're being serious!”

Darian stood up straight, his grip on the shield tightening as he looked at the little girl who gave him a second chance. “Thank you, Princess Morgann,” he said with sincerity. “I won’t let you down.”

I will give everything to fulfill this second chance. This shield of mine shall never falter…

"Gyahaha!" Andreas’s laughter echoed within the walls of the castle as he rushed down the corridors, with Aurelia struggling to keep up behind him. The sounds of battle rumbled through the air—clashing steel, crackling lightning, and the tremors that shook the ground. Andreas’s path was clear as he made his way toward the princess’s bedroom, undeterred by the chaos surrounding them.

“How do you know it is this way, my lord?” Aurelia called out, clutching her staff tightly to her chest, her breath ragged from the sprint.

“Of course, the princess is always on the highest floor!” the Emperor answered with a smirk, keeping his pace steady and sure. He didn’t even bother looking back, his voice ringing with confidence. “The little damsel is surely trapped in the tallest tower!”

Aurelia sighed in despair. “We are the one raiding her home!” she shot back, tired of her lord’s nonsense.

The armored man threw her a quick glance over his shoulder, the grin on his face widening. “Am I wrong though?” He surged ahead, his laughter ringing out again as they climbed higher into the empty castle.

She shook her head, trying to suppress a frustrated groan as they ascended higher, the castle feeling unnervingly vacant. “I swear, my lord, sometimes you make no sense,” she muttered.

“Sense is overrated,” he declared with a chuckle. “All that matters is we get there first!” His laughter reverberated again as they reached the highest floor.

“Target locked!” Andreas shouted, his eyes gleaming with a manic intensity as he spotted a figure at the far end of the grand chamber. There stood Princess Morgann, her white dress pristine and dazzling, flanked by two maids who shielded her protectively. The maids looked scared but determined, even without weapons.

“Aurelia, restrain the two maids!” Andreas ordered without taking his eyes off the princess. “The girl is mine.”

“I swear,” Aurelia sighed while stepping forward, raising her staff. The air around her shimmered as she began to channel her magic. “You are impossible, my lord,” she grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. She extended a hand, and with a flick of her wrist, invisible threads of energy shot out from her staff, wrapping around the two maids. The magical bindings immobilized them, holding them in place like trapped birds.

Princess Morgann's eyes widened as her protectors were effortlessly restrained. She clutched the hem of her dress, taking a step back as Andreas strode toward her, his heavy boots echoing ominously in the empty hallway.

“Now, little princess,” Andreas said with a smirk before stopping short right near her, bowing down despite her surprise. “You are so cute please be my wife!”

Morgann stood there, completely frozen while Aurelia’s head stood on head, fuming.

“What?” the both of them said at the same time, their voice echoing in unison. “What is the meaning of this?” they said again at the same time.

Morgann and Aurelia stared at Andreas in complete disbelief, their expressions mirroring each other’s shock.

Andreas’s grin only widened, clearly delighted by their synchronized outbursts. "Oh, come now! I’m a man of grand ambitions!" he declared, still kneeling before the princess. "What could be more fitting for an emperor than a lovely bride to rule by my side?"

Aurelia's face flushed with a mix of rage and embarrassment. "You… you idiot!" she sputtered, pointing her staff at him. “You already have me!”

“Ah, details, details,” Andreas waved his hand dismissively, rising to his feet with a flourish. “I am the man that will save mankind, I can have multiple wives!” He shot a wink at Morgann, who took another step back, still too stunned to react properly.

Aurelia’s eyes flared, almost mimicking Luvon’s signature move. “Multiple wives?” she spat, her grip tightening on her staff as it crackled with raw mana. “I could settle with you going left and right but marrying another one?” She practically trembled with fury, her face a deep shade of red.

“That’s right,” Morgann shot a look of disgust towards him. “You don’t go around and collect women as trophies,” she then sighed and her gaze dropped low. “I am not in the mood for jokes, Emperor.”

Andreas tilted his head, seemingly unfazed by her outburst. “But why not?” he replied with a teasing lilt. “What better way to unite humanity than through love?” he joined his hands in a mocking embrace.

“You just ravaged multiple cities while pillaging and massacring its people,” Morgann added, her eyes unwavering. “How can you even think of love when you’ve brought so much pain?”

“Oh, come now!” Andreas laughed, brushing off their concerns as if they were mere inconveniences. “These people weren’t as shining as you, princess.”

Aurelia dropped her shoulders in disbelief, her mouth agape. “Oh, dear dragon gods…”

A slap echoed in the hallway. Andreas blinked in surprise, feeling a jolt of pain radiate through his cheek, now marked red from the hand of Morgann. With tears appearing in the corner of her eyes, fists clenched, her voice cracked. “You killed my father, you asshole! And you think you can get away with that?”

Andreas recoiled slightly, the grin fading from his face as he processed her words. The room fell silent, the tension thickening as the weight of her accusation hung in the air. “Princess Morgann, I—”

“Save it!” Morgann shouted, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and sorrow. “You can’t just walk into my life, pretend you’re some hero, and then throw around marriage proposals as if they mean anything!”

Andreas opened his mouth, but no words came out. For the first time, he looked uncertain.

Her voice cracked once more, her eyes blinded with vengeance. “Shove your marriage up your ass and go die for all I care!”

“Fairy dust!” a voice echoed in the hallway when suddenly sparkling light surrounded both Aurelia and the Emperor.

“What now?” Andreas asked, glancing at the magical display with a mix of curiosity and wariness.

Aurelia, still fuming, took a step forward towards her lord. “It’s magic of the Fae,” she explained, holding her staff high. “Stay close to me, my lord.”

The shimmering light danced around them, illuminating the grand hallway with a warm glow. Aurelia concentrated, channeling her mana to create a protective barrier. The vibrant hues of the shield twisted and turned, surrounding the both of them completely.

Steps approached as a man with long, wavy hair and a flowing mantle entered the chamber, a book in hand. “Come to me,” he ordered to the maids and the princess who were now released from Aurelia’s spell.

The maids and Morgann didn’t hesitate and rushed towards him. “Uther!” Morgann shouted, her breathing ragged from her precedent outburst.

“A mage?” Andreas asked, glaring at the man holding the book.

“Not any kind of mage, my lord,” Aurelia explained, focusing on her barrier. “This is the top mage of Sora, Uther Faeborne.”

Uther turned his gaze to Aurelia, a faint smile curling on his lips. “If it isn’t Aurelia Dragonos,” he bowed slightly in reverence. “It is an honor to face a lord of the tower.”

Aurelia met his gaze, her expression a mixture of respect and caution. “The honor is mine, Uther, but your presence here is troubling.”

“Troubling?” Uther chuckled lightly, the sound almost melodic in the tense atmosphere. “I am just doing what a knight should do—protecting my lord.”

Andreas started banging against the barrier, his mouth twitching in rage. “Come on! This is not fair! Please reconsider Morgann!”

“Please don’t mind him,” Aurelia sighed, her voice weary.

“Kill him, Uther,” Morgann ordered coldly, making his spine shiver.

“Wow,” he said, eyeing her above his shoulder. “I would have never expected such orders from you, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t be missed,” Morgann added, eyeing the Emperor with disgust.

The barrier lifted and Andreas dashed forward, sword in hand.

“I won’t let you!” Uther declared, flipping the pages of his book with practiced ease. His voice dropped to a low murmur as he summoned the magic. “Fiery laughs!”

With a sudden burst, brilliant lights flashed in the corridor, illuminating the space in vibrant hues. In an instant, a surge of flames erupted from thin air, striking Andreas directly.

He let out a roar of surprise and pain as the fire enveloped him, forcing him back. The heat was intense, yet somehow the flames seemed to dance around him rather than consume him entirely. He staggered, eyes wide with fury. “You think you can stop me with this?”

Uther’s expression remained calm but he furrowed his brow. “That damn Aurelia… She protected him.”

Suddenly, a powerful wind surrounded the Emperor, pushing away the flames Uther had summoned. The fire flickered and sputtered, leaving behind a singed smell in the air as Andreas stood.

“Gyahaha! That’s right! Your flames are nothing against me!” Andreas smirked, wiping soot from his cheek. “Now die!” he shouted once more before charging forward.

Uther snapped his fingers and his book, levitating in the air flipped its pages once more. “Sylph!”

Just before the Emperor’s sword came down slashing him, the man disappeared in a gust of wind, finding himself just behind Aurelia.

“When did he—?” Aurelia turned around and aimed her staff rapidly at him.

“You left your precious protegee wide open!” Andreas taunted as he rushed toward Morgann with a wide grin.

But as soon as he reached her, he found himself slowing down, an invisible force tugging at him until he was abruptly yanked back.

“Flame arrows!” Aurelia cast her spell, the jewel at the tip of her staff shining brightly before unleashing multiple arrows made of flames.

With a grunt, another of the pages of Uther’s book turned and its content appeared briefly as he held his hand towards the projectiles. A downpour of water streamed down from the rook, extinguishing the arrows with ease.

As soon as he closed his hands, Aurelia could see a multitude of forms flickering around Uther, small creatures surrounded by an otherworldly light.

“Those are…” It was a rare sight as usually they only showed themselves to their owner. But she didn’t have the time to be amazed at such a sight. Vines sprouted from the brick walls beneath her and entwined her legs in a vice grip. “What the—?!” she gasped, struggling against the constricting tendrils.

“My lord! Help!” she shouted, panic creeping into her voice as she glanced back at him.

“Game, set, and match,” Uther stated, flipping another page of his book. The fairies were now clearly apparent and the light around them intensified even further. Andreas could see the force pulling him backward were fairies tugging on his cape.

“Get off me you pests!” he slashed around his sword in an attempt to scare them off but, unable to reach behind his back, nothing happened.

“Wonderland…” Uther whispered his incantation, creating a blinding light surrounding the whole corridor, enveloping everyone in its vicinity.

When Aurelia blinked, she realized the whole place had changed. They weren’t in the hallways of the castle anymore but in a place full of verdant nature, large mushrooms as tall as houses and plants twice their normal sizes with trees towering over them.

“Welcome, chosen hero,” Uther continued, addressing the Emperor. “Those free of sins may pass, those are the rules to the domain of the fairies.”

“Now,” the mage closed his book, a faint smile tugging his lips. “Shall we judge yours?”