Black Magus

Francene Weaver.

First Officer of the 2nd Legion.

Species: Half-High Elf/Human.

Age: 21.

25th of Trescia, 1492.

Enzithl. Central Nytholon Wildlands, Vrurian Empire.

06:15.

***

When I ascended to Eotrom and met Sir Jaimess, I knew the burdens would be heavy if I followed him as I wanted to. I knew of their weight. Yet, I had no idea of their depth.

I got a mere taste when we first returned to the Mortal Plane. The 14 of us accompanied Sir Jaimess to the City of Bards, wherein the halfling, Romulus Stuart, met and entered Sir Jaimess' service along with the rest of us. There, we were afforded a source of vital information about the surface. Therein we learned… the surface was just like the Eternal Emperor said. Strange. Exotic. Dangerous. Temperatures swung wildly between the day and night. Many creatures filled the air with exotic sounds, always. Analogs of what existed down below were seen here in all their glory. Towering peaks were not caked with mycelium and moss, they were layered with dirt and snow. Rivers of water poured akin to the magma falls of below, albeit much faster. Deserts were not filled with dust, they contained more sands than I believed could exist. And there was so. much. water.

The surface was beautiful. But it was not without trials. Freedom. It was not without trials. We learned this when we descended to the deep mountains of Rhar with Sir Jaimess' Doppelganger. Far away from civilization or sentient folk, we learned firsthand that freedom was not free. It was something to be fought for, daily, both internally and externally. It was paid for in blood. The blood of a few thousand gray dwarves was the cost of our freedom, paid by another. The rest, ours and the freedom we would give others, would be paid by us.

That first, most potent lesson brought about our need to fight, internally and externally. No longer were we woken up, provided food, and forced to work throughout the day and night. We were told when to wake up and where to be and left to our own devices. We were instructed on how to find food, build shelter, and locate divine creatures. Then we were left to our own ends. We chose to wake up at the appropriate times and travel up or down the cliffs and through the wide-reaching forests to reach the training locale. We chose to listen to the instructions given by Sir Jaimess' Doppelganger, whether they be about the life of a ranger and the beast within; politics, economics, or commerce; witchcraft and wizardry; artificing and science; or commanding and leadership.

Of course, following through with those choices yielded rewards. Not in the form of gold, trinkets, and weapons- though we got those too- our rewards came in the form of divine knowledge. Knowledge of the Classes we desired that were still so far in the distance. Knowledge of the classes next to them, and even beyond them. Knowledge of our jobs and roles as Prime Legionaries. The highest reward of all, however, was the return of Sir Jaimess from Rhar. We were elated when he and tengu appeared in the skies. Not because that meant our training would soon pick up, nor was it because we were finally introduced to the legendary creatures accompanying him. We were elated because we had grown tired of how the elves of Rhar treated him and the other Legionaries. They were so unlike the elves we suffered beside under the reign of the gray dwarves, who were liberated with us- the elves who were with us now.

Later, we learned they were unlike the elves of the entire peninsula.

Having proved ourselves adept with the basics, Sir Jaimess organized and guided us down mountains into the Ligin Kingdom's highlands. We began each day by ingesting mana sensitivity potions and growing familiar with spiritual energies. Then, we mastered our skills on the frontier and in battle as we hunted both the Culture hated by our God and the mana wells of powerful creatures, seeking to expand ours. Within two weeks, we descended to the vast plains of Ligin, wherein we saw our daily tasks shift to focus on the other aspects of our duties.

We stopped at various cities to gain experience in diplomacy and the other garrison duties. In doing so, we witnessed just how famous the Tengu Tamer was. Prominent and novice adventurers, artisans, and diplomats alike sought him out by the dozens. Thus with our low bar for entry and high standards for training, our numbers grew exponentially with each passing day.

It was the third day, and thus the third city in Ligin that saw the first of us make a connection. Sheedra, one of the elves on the path to becoming our Technical Archmage, came across the tunnel stretching beneath the mountains and followed it to the dungeon explored by Sir Elijah. She grew familiar with the draconic beasts of shadow found there. Yet, none followed her here, deeper into the Ligin plains, so we continued, thinking nothing of it as we hopped from city to city, practicing the complex game of laws and diplomacy employed between non-warring nations. At the same time, each of our Doppelgangers worked to recruit 15 people suitable for our cause, and in turn had each of them recruit 15, and each of them recruit 15, and again three more times over.

Through it all, we learned how to brew mana sensitivity potions to assist in their daily consumption, taking intense care not to exceed the limits of alchemical toxicity. All the while, Sir Jaimess continued procuring Mana Wells and creatures of all types from the beast markets to distribute the former to us and send the latter up above, to his woven world- our home above the Mortal Plane, Naubuuru.

We were a tenday and a half into our journey, halfway across Ligin with over a dozen cities behind us, when the second of us made a connection. It was one of many creatures Sir Jaimess recently purchased to release. A Tanuki. A shapeshifter with an unsettlingly exotic ability and a similar origin to the revered Tengu. It clung to Civil Chief Romulus desperately, prompting a short celebration from us that gave Sir Jaimess the time to change our tactics.

The next day, the 15 of us were spread no less than 100 meters apart, forming a wedge behind Sir Jaimess before we drank our potions. Similarly, those of our subordinates who aimed to be Legionaries formed wedges behind us and drank their potions; and theirs behind them. Both individually and as a unit that spanned over many kilometers, we protected our civilian caravans and their land skiffs with more than just blades and bows. Using NoxNet, we decided their paths, altering the landscape or neutralizing threats if necessary. And of course, we continued training and educating them in the ways of the Tengu Tamer.

After a month of such an endeavor, we'd traveled some 3,000 kilometers and were finally coming upon the Vrurian border. By then, our numbers had truly exploded into a diverse range of species and classes. Just as we ranged from half-orcs to half-elves such as myself, those who gathered at the camp Sir Jaimess made ranged from high-elf to orc, goblins, and even a few ogres. It wasn't until that night, however, that something truly pivotal occurred.

Antwan Yotes, a half-orc, and our soon-to-be Marshal, was exploring along the Vrurian-Ligin border, far from the trail. Therein he came upon and subsequently neutralized a shady caravan of wheeled cages before calling in the rest of us. We arrived to see a conglomerate of the rarest creatures one could ever hope to lay eyes on gathered around Antwan, with one, in particular, remaining by his side at all times. They were all natives of Nonus; creatures that were once revered as deities, hence their catch-all designation. In the time since, however, they were challenged, hunted, and traded by the wicked and greedy. Yet their designation remained- the Divine Beasts of Nonus.

They'd been pulled from the wildest parts of the Vrurian Empire's dark forest. We failed to realize that was the cause of them gazing upon us with as much surprise as we looked at them. To see a human accompanied by a triage of tengu was much rarer than witnessing a tengu in the wild, much less capturing them. To feel Sir Jaimess' connection to the Spirit Realm and the God of Mana, and our connection to him, was unprecedented. And so, their flocking to us should have been seen as natural; yet it was anything but.

To see a timid centaur fawn hugging against the hip of Antwan Yotes was anything but natural, much less expected. Even then, though, he wasn't the only one. A cage filled with Tanuki swarmed Romulus and the two leaders of the 2nd Corps, Melek Jubal, and Gwenddydd Grandspire. Similarly, a pair of Kappa approached the leaders of our first Corps, Annick, and Maud Ansgar. Meanwhile, a baby basilisk boasting a band over its eyes slithered to our Chief Engineer, Garuk Brickscale. Once unbound and ungagged, a harpy flapped over to Janimae Carver, our General-to-be, and gave her a curious sniff.

Then came my turn.

She was still in her cage at the far rear of the caravan, thus she largely went unseen. She appeared like an elf; beautiful, with a quite revealing dress of feathers and scales alike. Great black wings with glimmering nightly blue feathers grew from her back, matching the long, scaled mermaid-like tail covering her lower portions. But only for an instant. They split down the middle and slackened into the trails of a robe, exposing a pair of slender legs she used to shift toward me.

A Siren in the flesh, as tall as I was and as beautiful as could be.

She stood with no fear as I opened her cage and stepped forward wantingly as I unshackled her wrists, never breaking eye contact with me in the slightest. It was almost... entrancing, despite the elven inability to be charmed, I found myself releasing her gag without hesitation, wherein she immediately asked. "Can you sing?"

"I sang as a child. I haven't been practicing since my liberation," I replied as calmly as I would have to my companions, and remained calm still, even as she took me by the hand to drag me deeper into the forest.

"Show me. Then, I will show you."

That was all she said for hours of maneuvering through the forest, watching the woven worlds shift and dance in the skies above while my peers and companions did the same in other parts of this arcane land. Never did the slightest sound befall her frame, even when we came upon a vast lake and she slipped inside, gesturing me into the drink.

I knew the tales of sirens drowning people. But that was of little consequence when I personally knew the Eternal God of the universe, thus I stared at the still face of the lake, reflecting his glory in divine radiance before I took hold of her hand and stepped atop the thin veil.

The cold stung against my boots as my weight fell onto my foot, stealing the breath from my lungs. Yet I pressed forward. Past the knees. Beyond the waist. Up past the shoulders until my head was submerged, then I opened my eyes to see a vibrant world of blues, greens, and browns, reflected by mesmerizing schools of fish parading around the sunken wreckage of a lost civilization; and her.

She began singing, pouring the most beautiful sound into the water while her hands danced and flowed majestically around me, pulling my arms into the same motion while notes and hums attempted to push past the bubbles escaping my lips. What took their place was water, cold enough to burn like fire as it distorted and drowned out my notes. Yet I could not stop. I could not close my eyes to that beautiful visage shining so radiantly before me, even as darkness loomed from all angles.

She bloomed, and thus I sang until there were no more bubbles to escape my lips, and I inhaled.

I inhaled until my lungs were filled to the brim with the burning cold and the Emperor's darkness was all I knew, then I sang in the loudest, richest tone I had ever conjured. It swept through the waters like an unruly mistress, pushing back the darkness and quaking the frozen surface into a field of drifting sheets before it breached the air as praise to Mani.

Continuing our song, we- Saria and I, swam to the surface and kept swimming through the air to return to our peers and followers- our fellow Divine Rangers, returning the centaur fawn to her home within the heart of Vruria.

It was glorious- both what we and they have done. Yet those were tame in comparison to what we saw when we entered the great Centaurian city of Enzithl, for our eyes feasted on many great things, and our spirits were rewarded for the great things we had done.

Grateful for the rescue and superb hospitality of their fawn, the Centaurians became close friends and allies of ours with little words exchanged. Many strong centaurs in the prime of their youth were seen gathered among the leaders of the 3rd Corps, Raiz, a male bearbug, and Putu, a female half-high orc. Even that was tame in comparison to those standing behind the 4th Corps leaders, Kateri Pran and the half-dwarven-human Seighard Kartikeya. Not because of any creatures standing next to them, however, but because of the fires flowing into them from the creature perched atop Fenris' shoulder.

The elf, our future Witch MD, was the only one the creature had bonded with in the same way as the rest of us. Yet all those gathered around them met the fiery gaze of the small chick standing on her shoulder and received from it, the Blessing of the Phoenix Feather.