Chapter 001

The Symbol

Gretter woke up on the cold hard ground. He lifted his rheumatic body painfully off the floor and sat up in the dark alley. Sluggishly, he opened his eyes - one was pearly white while the other was brown. The moonlight washed over his wrinkled face - not a hint of sleepiness was visible in his impoverished visage.

“What time is it?” he asked himself in a hoarse voice while scratching his crinkly beard. “Argh, ‘tis cold here.”

As Gretter leaned on a wall to stand up he could feel the cold that had taken hold in his hands. The rags hardly prevented the chilly night air from harassing him. He shuddered as hunger pangs gnawed at his stomach. The old man picked up his small grime-stained shawl and tried to cover his torso with it. He trudged his body forward while leaning on the cold walls.

As Gretter stumbled out of the dark alley, he found himself on a deserted moonlit street. The tall apartments had no light in their windows and the shutters of the shops were drawn down. There was a placid silence that lingered in that place. It was going to be another night of hunger for him.

“Where should me go now?” he grumbled. His body was bent double with age. “Err, me bets no one is here to offer me help; me might as well go and sleep under a tree.”

The old beggar slowly headed towards the west park. The metal benches would be cold but they would warm up quickly, coupled with the shawl, this night would pass much more easily.

After several minutes of walking, he stopped near the metal gates of the park. The blue-uniformed guard was sleeping again in his chair next to the metal gates. It seemed that his alertness had gone under with the sun.

Gretter looked up at the moon to send a small prayer to his Goddess. It was at this moment that he noticed something peculiar. He narrowed his good eye and focused on the humanoid figure that was floating next to the moon.

‘Goodness! What is that?’ even a beggar like him understood that only powerful Archmages could fly. What Getter couldn’t see, was the book, which was floating in front of the flying Magician.

Suddenly a black rune opened up behind the Archmage. Getter was bewildered by this, as he could make it out despite its colour. It was a black, far darker than the mellow glow of this moonlit night. It covered the stars and even seemed to draw in the light around it as it took its shape. The pitch black ‘Θ’ stood next to the moon.

‘What is happening here?’ Gretter rubbed his eyes and looked in that direction again.

The symbol did not move for a few moments after which it suddenly contracted into a small black spot that was not visible to Gretter. Then the Archmage disappeared and a black sphere replaced him.

The black orb expanded.

It continued to expand. Gretter was seriously confused at the moment. A person flying? A rune in the sky? A black sphere that did not seem to stop expanding anytime soon?

‘Oh, it is a spell.’ his age retarded brain finally found a conclusion. “Wait! It is a spell!” he screamed.

The sudden noise woke up the sleeping watchman, who clumsily fell out of his rocking chair.

“Oww...” he groaned. “What in the world is wrong with you ol’ man?!” the watchmen asked as he picked himself up and dusted his clothes.

“Sir, look over there!” Gretter pointed towards the ever-expanding black orb. It was descending now.

“Blimey!” exclaimed the guard. “What in the damn world is that?!”

Gretter was sure that this guard could do nothing about that. The sphere was swallowing up anything in its way. The tall buildings which touched it, they seemed to disappear forever in the sea of endless darkness. Getter ran... or did his best to run in the opposite direction of the sphere.

The black sphere surface of the sphere touched the ground, its speed of expansion increased by many folds. Everything that was swallowed by this spell seemed to cease to exist inside it. And it was plainly obvious to Getter that he would definitely die if that thing were to swallow him.

He hastened his pace. The occasional sound of stumbling was heard across the empty street - the street dogs, oblivious to their fate, only raised their heads to look at the haggard old man that sprinted past them. Gretter could not care less for anything that was around him - he had to get out of the city and quickly, for he was sure that the city walls would entrap him in case the black sphere continued to expand.

It was quite pitiful that his body could not keep up with his spirits. He had to lean against a lampost so he could catch his breath. Panting, he gathered his last bit of hope and looked back.

To his utter horror, he saw an enormous curved wall closing in a few metres behind him. In a flurry, he tripped himself. The speed of the black surface was increasing and decreasing without any pattern to it. Old Gretter’s foot was caught up in it.

“Eh?” to his confusion, the pain he expected never came. The surface had absorbed half his shin. In bewilderment, Gretter pushed his body back. An excruciating pain attacked his nerves. His leg up to his shin had disappeared leaving behind a bloody dismembered limb. It was cut off clean - like a hot knife making a smooth cut through butter.

Gretter screamed in pain. He forced his scrawny muscles to drag him forward.

“ME DON’T WANTS TO DIE!” he screamed. “HELP SOMEONE! HELP!”

He cried out tears of helplessness, as half his body had already been absorbed by the sphere.

“Me don't want t-” his words were cut short has his consciousness disappeared into oblivion.

* * *

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” a black haired teenager woke up in his bunk screaming his lungs out. A phantom pain throbbed in Alevier’s leg. His whole body ached too, but the feeling of his leg being cut through was particularly nasty. He was sweating profusely and his skin was pale.

He quickly threw away his blanket to check his leg. Yes, it was there. He panted as he held his head in his hands.

‘What was that? Was it the ‘Vanishing of Armi’? I should have been in the city too at that time, but I had woken up at the edge of the chasm that had formed there. What is happening to me?’

His mind was riddled with questions. He switched on his bedside magic lamp and looked at the watch: It was two in the morning. His deep grey eyes scanned through the room. He was missing something, a small piece of the puzzle. A small detail he had overlooked, but what was it?

Maybe the clue was right under his nose, but he couldn't get his hands on it. He calmed down and took a few deep breaths. He recalled whatever he had seen in that dream - what scared him was the fact that he remembered everything. He remembered that vivid dream with every ounce of detail present in his memory. This was the fifth time in the past month something like this had happened to him.

But none of the other dreams had featured a flying Archmage. Was he the one who caused this incident? It seemed so. But that spell! Alevier shuddered. Did that single spell make the city of Armi disappear into a humongous canyon? Such a powerful spell… Alevier would have envied it, however, after seeing what it had done, he loathed it. He loathed the magic that brought pain to others… the magic that brought pain to him.

‘Magic is not a weapon but a tool. A tool to make our lives easier, Alevier! And that is why we learn magic - so we can help others by making their lives easier,’ the words of his late father echoed in his mind.

His vacant gaze slowly drifted around until it suddenly stopped on the thing kept on the bedside table. It was his grimoire - an old, brown, one and a half inch thick book. Upon its dusty hardcover, beautiful yet stained designs ran about. In the centre was a circle. Inside that circle, there were seven more circles - one in the centre while six others arranged in a hexagon. In the bottom-most circle was a familiar rune. Alevier’s heart lurched forward on recognizing it. He saw it with his wide eyes - it was a ‘Θ’.