Thaddius and Varin ran their eyes across the page, their jaws dropping at the history that was presented before them. On one side of the region, an endless blizzard froze the mountains over and cursed the land that cast the Chosen One away with ice. Her home village collapsed from the frozen land, only to be inhabited later by Elves bred in the snowy mountains. The other side of the region, across the wide stretch of water, was blessed with greenery and sun; a token of appreciation for the man who served the Chosen One well. This land later became a breeding ground for mages, only extending to the cursed, icy land when the villagers sought to expand their territory. When they met the elves, they cursed them and sought to rid them of the land so they could build their own kingdom, a kingdom that would seek to purge the land of the curse it had been tainted with. The icy Kingdom of Axulran was born, later accompanied by the blessed Kingdom of Traburg across the Emerald Strait. These two kingdoms fought each other, then made treaties, and fought each other yet again. What Varin found surprising, though, was that there was once a third kingdom. The Kingdom of Theaven used to serve as a middleman between the two opposing forces, where the Elves could run free and practice any type of magic they wished to harness. They cohabitated with the outcasts of both these kingdoms, welcoming them with open arms and formed a force so resentful, powerful, and wise it threatened the two kingdoms. Specifically, Axulran. As a result of this threat, Axulran proposed a treaty to ‘merge’ their kingdoms together through brute force, and in return would thank Traburg for their alliance by supplying them with anything they could ever need, want and request. The Chosen One foretold this to the villagers who stoned her, telling them that she would sprinkle her seed of magic throughout these civilizations upon her death and that she would return to smite those bloodlines responsible for her death. Her seeds would take root, only uplifting into existence at the right time. That was where the tale ended. Varin looked at the two of the Elves with a furrowed brow, shaking his head. “All this history, and for what? The Chosen One cursed Axulran to ice, and blessed Traburg with light?” “In this tale, they never spoke of what seed had been planted.” “And?” Varin asked, pursing his lips together. “You are not saying what I think you are saying…” Thaddius said with a pale face, his eyes wide and his lip trembling. “Varin,” Leolina said and turned to Jaspar, his gaze on hers soft as he nodded, “I have reason to believe this seed was cast into three children upon birth. One of fire, one of ice, and one of neutrality.” “Cateline is ice…” Thaddius whispered. “Aiora is fire,” said Jaspar. “Seraphine is neutrality.” Leolina nodded, flicking her wrist to release Varin from his magical confinement. Varin shook his head, gulping at the thought. “Cateline and Aiora are seeds of the Chosen One?” “They are their own person, Varin.” Leolina started, reaching over, and placed a hand over Jaspar’s hand. “But they serve a purpose. Seraphine is the messenger, Aiora is the provoker, and Cateline is the curse. To answer your question from earlier—I do not seek to sacrifice the departed Princess. I wish to resurrect her and bring the other two home. From there, we will use the Mark of Ellixus and sacrifice the neutral catalyst between them all.” “The neutral catalyst?” Varin gulped. “Only the mark can tell us who that is—but I can confidently say it is one of you two.” ───── ❝ 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖞 & 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 ❞ ───── Varin and Thaddius had parted from the elves as soon as they allowed it. They had not said another word after finding out their fate; the air was thick. He had been beaten, thrown, and choked. He had lost the person he had just told he would mentor, Cateline. And, his closest companion he admired so seemed to have evil intent placed at the center of her heart. Somehow, someway, he and Thaddius were at the center of it all. “A sacrifice…” Varin whispered as he sat outside with Thaddius, watching as the scholars passed them by in groups. It was a small academy, and the faces were familiar. He wondered if any of them were involved, too, or if he had been unfortunate enough to deserve a life ended in sacrifice. He turned to Thaddius, his eyes tracing downward from his horns to the collar of his shirt. When they met, he admired the youthful and happy glint in his eye. It was a contrast to Varin’s otherwise unmoving, and abrasive nature. He felt Thaddius had lost that glint lately, that the events and happenings completely rid him of any charisma he had held. Surely, Thaddius was not the sacrifice. “A sacrifice, indeed. I need a drink.” “I think the tavern will be closed for a while.” Varin shook his head and looked towards the meadows, ignoring the passing stares. He did not care for the attention, and it took a lot of effort to pass them off as nothing. Varin had to keep himself from cursing those wandering eyes. “Leolina says we need to deal with the family… I wonder what she means by that.” “I have not the slightest idea… However, I need to tell you something. Before we go do whatever Leolina requests.” The satyr hummed, watching a duo spar in the distance. “When I crossed over the lake,” Varin said, his voice shaking, “I found a tower. A wizard’s tower. There was a deceased man, he had been there for a while… Well, after discovering him, I panicked and practiced a spell to get me out of the tower quickly. I also crafted a potion.” Thaddius looked at him with wide eyes. “What type of spell, Varin?” “A dark one.” Varin reached into his pocket and looked around, laying the crumpled piece of paper on the table and the vial on top of it. Thaddius brought the items closer to him, his eyes crossing over the paper as his jaw dropped. “Very dark.” “The vial holds a potion that, apparently, rids you of your soul. You exist as a ghost, only relocating in an innocent soul upon request.” “Even darker,” Thaddius said with a frown. “Why would you do this, Varin? Why bring this magic to me?” “I think we will be experiencing dark magic either way. I want you to keep on to this vial.” “Not a chance!” “It is important, Thaddius. You are more levelheaded than I and are far less fearful of this rescue mission. If we travel, and rid Cateline of her impurities and enemies, we will face trouble surely. If we are captured, I need you to find your way back to safety. This is your second chance out.” “And what if you are the one who needs a second chance out?” Varin pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Do not fear for me, I can fend for myself. I need you to be able to relay any information if things go south, it is for Aiora and Cateline’s sake.” Varin wondered what this meant. If he should even be worrying about Aiora and Cateline—apparently, they existed only to serve the Chosen One’s prophecy, but he felt they were more than that. He felt they were owed a second chance at fate, a fate they paved. “Keep onto both, they are to be used in pairs. One to flee one’s body, and one to flee the area itself. Promise me you will not lose them.” “Varin—” “I’m serious, Thaddius. I have lost Aiora, and I have lost Cateline. I will not lose you, even if the Elder’s say it is prophesied.” Thaddius’ lips puckered out in a tremble before he nodded, folding the paper around the vial, and held it in his closed fist. “Alright, Varin. You have my word.” The two stood and clamped their hands around each other in agreement before hugging. Varin felt a tear stinging at the corner of his eye. “Your word is important. Now, enough of this. Let us find a way of saving our friends.”