Thunderous clashes crack the floor, rending ages old stone from the walls, marble pillars crushed to dust as the ceiling above gives way. A long forgotten castle, made home by a Draco, is now host to a violent encounter.

White flames flick into the darkness, as the darkness hisses back. A dueling dance weaves to and fro. Twin figures cast their magicks, each member concealed under cloaks. Both tall, with velvet black hair bleeding out from underneath their garments.

The White Flame casts forth columns of pure fire, what little of their arena that is left falls away, as the blasts incinerate and melt the final column, revealing a pale moonlight.

The Blackfire counters, with her obsidian torrent. Repelling the assault, and leaping to her opponent’s flank. A rapid barrage of burning debris is met with a wall of white fire.

The equals fight endlessly.

Unscathed, aside from their charred clothing, the opponents rush one another. Their Mana empty, and their Magicka exhausted. They engage in melee.

One uses her magnificent upper body strength as the other has her superior dexterity. At a clear disadvantage,, the Whiteflame twists and kicks her opponent away, distancing herself with a series of flips and jumps.

The last of her cloak falls away, the Blackfire revealed to be a young woman; she ignites her arms with the last of her Magic. Her eyes, once violet, are now a deep dark and staring at her foe, with an intense hatred.

The White Flame, responds in kind. Carefully removing her cloak as it disintergrates, her hands turn to flame of a farer shade, and her own violet eyes turn white. A slight frown folds her face as she readies herself to strike.

With a twist of the foot, the White Flame launches herself at the Blackfire. In a blink of an eye, the great gap is closed, as she lands a right hook.

Careening through the ruins, Blackfire catches herself on some debris, using her flaming claws to slow herself down. Her composure lost, she screams with bestial intensity with her teeth laid bare.

The White Flame closes the distance again. A pair of strong hands grapple an arm, and Blackfire is pulled forward. Instead of delivering a knee to the face, a fiery hand slices her leg, as a spray of blood turns to steam in the cool air. Gritting her teeth, an attempt to once again create some distance is made.

Blackfire places her hands on the ground, using her immense upper-body strength to launch herself feet-first unto her opponent. The White Flame, before knowing what had hit her, is launched hundreds of feet into the air, through the cement walls of the ruined castle, and into the night.

The blue-ish hue turns to pitch black, as a chattering flock of birds passes overhead.

Serah had been dreaming. Too often she will have such vivid dreams, their meaning fades as she wakes.

"Another one of those dreams...?"

Under the noon sun, she rubs her violet eyes after much needed rest from a morning of combat practicals and rigorous exercise.

Sitting up, she begins to brush her dark hair back with a ribbon in hand. Tying her hair in a high ponytail, she yawns and scratches her head.

As she talks to herself about her dream, she steps over a sleeping Mika.

Her mirror, her twin sister. Mika's black hair twists around a white ribbon, rested over her shoulder. Conservatively dressed, down from head to toe in a tear-away black/white dress and corset that falls just shy of her ankles, where underneath lays pants and high boots.

A soft snore comes from her, as she lays against a pillow of plucked grass.

Serah stands still and silent in an open field. The field bends to the wind, dancing along with prismatic flowers dotting the field like stars in the night sky.

Serah winces, and grasps her right side. Distracted, her train of thought is once again lost.

Brushing aside her satchel, she undoes her tunic, fashioned by the Elves of the East, it wraps around her body elegantly and comfortably. She chose one that is light blue, her favorite color. Despite the protests of her sister, claiming it clashes with her eyes.

With each knot the wrap falls away, revealing a bruised, and muscular waist.

Digging back into her satchel, she fetches some ointment and a cloth. Twisting to open the container, she mutters under her breath:

“It’s to heal, not to sooth. You must learn to blah blah..”

As she applies the medicine, an occasional grimace paints her face, followed by air being sucked through her teeth.

Once finished, she applies the loose cloth and fixes her Tunic, then braces herself.

She stands ready, feet separated. Pulling back her shoulders, she focuses on the center of her chest. Soon enough, a burning sensation develops. With focus and clarity, she holds that burning, and positions her hands straight ahead. The burning is now in her fingertips.

All she needs to do is release it, and she can cast her spell.

“And…. release.”

Nothing.

She tries again.

“...Release!”

Nothing.

The burning in her chest subsides. Just before a different kind of burn builds up in her. Curling her fist, Serah kicks the ground, and with it forming a meter long trench, scattering earth downwind, dirt and rock patters the ground.

Following the discovery of Magic, many were able to surpass their limits. Where one could only lift a few logs at a time, can now carry the tree.

Only those born with Magicka were able to tap into this potential, and with them came an era of exploration and determination.

One such exploration lead to the lands of Euphos. A continent of the untapped and untamed. A place dangerous enough even the staunch Adventurers, as they came to be known, struggled.

With their frequent defeats came the creation of Guilds. Initially, it was meant as Academies to train and refine the skills and abilities of Adventurers, to combat the fearsome threats like Dracos and Vampyres. It proved to be enough to form stable settlements, starting with Elysia. Years later, the Adventurers would surpass their limits again.

Deemed as their own speciality, Mages would traverse the wilderness to strengthen their abilities instead. Too dangerous to be kept inside the protective walls, their training was forced out into the wilderness. The weeks to come lead to a decrease in monster activity around the continent, and allowed growth to more settlements.

In the meantime, Adventurer Guilds would host the skilled and daring to pursue the countless varieties of job requests -- or 'quests' -- that would pass through local populaces in a form of bounty. In years to follow, due to a decline in expeditions to Euphos had left an already dwindling population of Adventurers even worse for wear, and a returning monster presense compounded that even further.

The Adventurers eventually declared a state of emergency due to low numbers. The primary defensive force was failing to recruit and retain fighters, and so it was the Mages who stepped forward. Eventually leading to the re-branding of Adventure Guilds, a Golden Age of Magic, and a thriving Elysia. --

Mika wakes, a blade of grass tickling her nose. She lazily brushes it away before stretching with a groan, snapping Serah out of her miasma of frustration. She turns to her groggy sister.

"Hi sleepy head. Ready to head back?" Serah says with a smile.

Dozy and docile, Mika nods before relenting to her yawn. She stumbles to her feet, and fixes her dress. Carefully brushing it with her soft, yet strong hands.

They set off. Their destination is The Capital City of Elysia. Cut in two by a large river and boardered by titanic, white walls.

The main road in sight, Serah stares at her curled hand. The mystery of their quandry burning away as the world around her fades.

"What is stopping us from casting spells?"

She's interrupted by a tap on the shoulder, from Mika.

"Are you okay? You were ignoring me."

"I'm okay, I was just thinking again."

Mika notices her Sister's fixation, and comforts her with a quick, one-armed hug and a hard grin.

"We don't need it, we have all we need." She throws a few quick jabs in the air.

Their gazes meet, Mika giggles as Serah is struggling to hold back a smile.

"Anyway! I'm starving let's get something to eat before we return to the Guild?"

Serah stares down her Sister, incredulous.

"Can you not wait a few more minutes? Food is free at the Hall."

The braided girl pouts with a mock wimper.

"But i'm hungry..."

The duo step on the main road, leaving the field. Mika sniffles.

"Fiine. We'll race there, loser pays!"

Serah kicks off with a mighty charge, giving herself a headstart.

Mouth agape, Mika drops her act.

"Hey! No fair!"

She bolts in a panic.

The winding dirt road to town allows for many shortcuts, if one could clear the steep, rolling hills. Despite Serah's generous head start, she was injured, unable to climb them as effectively as her sister, and had to rely on her superior speed.

The distance is 2380 meters.

The wind is deafening as Mika, with a graceful stride, is carried up the soft slopes of cascading greens. Once at the top, she leaps down to the dirt road and to meet her sister, who swiftly passes by; stride unwavering.

Their daily regiment involves a 10 Kilometer run. At the beginning this took them nearly 3 hours. At their best, they can manage that in a fraction of the time. Within minutes they arrive at the gates of Elysia. Their race concludes in a tie, and both agree to buy their own meals.

Walls are a relic of the past throughout most of the world, but in the continent of Euphos they're still very much necessary. Roving monsters, bandits, calamitous weather, and the ensuing battles to fend them off would often leave significant damage to town infrastructure. No expense is spared when it comes to construction and repairs.

The interior of Elysia is full of life. Trees and flower beds lined the busy walkways. Merchants and streetvendors sit around every corner. A cacophanous roar from the numerous taverns and restaraunts echoed through the variety of smiling patrons.

They sat down at a nearby restaraunt.

Mika pokes a forkful of fruit in her mouth, eyeing her sister rubbing her waist.

"Still sore from yesterday?"

"What gave it away?"

"Maybe if you didn't give in to your temper and were more patient..."

Serah scowls, the table cracking under her grip.

"Maybe if he wasn't an asshole."

Mika pokes at her food. Contemplating an appropriate answer.

Before she could, a loud rush of laughter comes from across the room, interrupting their conversation. Several off-duty guards pound pints, the floor around them caught in a storm of ale.

"I'm only saying that there's a reason why he's harder on you. "

Serah finishes her meal in silence, choosing to ignore her sister, and places down her payment. Mika hurries to stuff her face as best she can and follows suit, both resuming their return to the Guild. Just a few minutes away.

The Hall of Obsidian Regalia is a three story monument to a nearly century long dynasty of growth. Formed roughly 30 years after the discovery of magic, it's one of the premier Guilds in the world of Halcyon.

Comprised of golden sandstone, beams of Mahogany, and towering panels of crystal clear glass. Silken banners and flags flutter in the wind. A Black Hand holding the Four Elements serves as the Guild's ensignia, embroidered on the white-gold colors of Elysia.

Outside amenities consist of a large training courtyard, a stable, a man-made lake, and storage warehouse.

To the east, the training courtyard is full of stationary and mobile targets, large boulders, trees, and surrounded on all sides by a low-cut hedge marking the boundaries. The entire area covers nearly 5 square kilometers. Some say it's too small for real combat.

On the west side, the Stables. Housing several breeds of large animals chosen for their performance in the variety of landscapes and environments. A large, open shelter of lacquered cedar keeps the various breeds and species comfortable at night. During the Winter season, it is boarded up and insulated.

Finally, North of the stables is the Storage Warehouse, which keeps stock of several kinds optional gear and supplies to be stocked on the Carriages. Camping gear -- a selection of tents, firestarting equipment, fishing rods and tackle. Bow and Arrow, rope, and knifes for hunting-- is required to be on-board at all times.

The duo approaches the entrance, as fellow members of Obsidian Regalia poured in and out of the hall. Most of average height, and a healthy build. Ages vary, from the youth to the wisdom of twilight. The Twins are closer to the former, age 16.

Upon entering the Main Hall, their focus is directed to the Guild Fireplace. Placed in the direct center, a roaring fire bathes the hall in relief from the Autumn winds. Stone blocks surround the flame, stacked on all sides in 3 layers.

The first layer serves as containment, while the 2nd and 3rd allow for seating to suit the users comfort.

With a blissful sigh erupting from Serah, she slides to her usual spot in a corner of the 2nd row, and closes her eyes. Ponytail dangling, swaying back and forth over the ledge as Mika hums a song. Time falls away as she begins to nap.

"Careful, your hair might catch fire like that."

A soft baritone calls to her, causing her eyes to dart open.

Standing before them is a tall man, with long, unkempt, muddy hair, with slender features accented with tired eyes and a pencil-thin goatee. His charcoal gambeson folds not against his body, with gold-iron bracers laid above his scarred, calloused hands.

"Hi Albain!"

"Hello Mika, I see I'm still not on speaking terms with Serah." He says, mockingly.

Serah does her best impression of a rock. A grumpy stone.

Albain strokes his chin.

"Perhaps I wasn't hard enough on her earlier? Curious."

grumble grumble

Being diagnosed as Magic Deficient, Serah and Mika were recommended to study under Albain. A Master of Druidism and Martial Arts.

Albain's training method is fairly standard, for the most part. Rigorous exercise mixed in with combat practice. What makes it his own method is his means of application. Opting for a more hands on approach, mixing both exercise and practice. A method Serah isn't fond of, much to Albain's pleasure.

She rubs her side, remembering their session that morning.

Serah, under the guidance of her teacher, chose Capoeira and Taekwondo. Disciplines based around swift movement, positioning, and kicks. Using her full body to maximize her offensive potential. Her above-average height allows for excellent leverage.

Mika studied Imperial Python, Ghost Bat, and Black Tiger Kung Fu disciplines to subdue or hinder her opponents for Serah's more potent attacks. Using a mixture of grapples and precision strikes to attack vital points. Aggressively forcing their opponents off-balance, and capitalizing on their mistakes.

"Your training consists only of exercise and sparring with each other."

Serah rolls over, sitting up to face Albain. Hands to her side, cocking her head with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, wow! It's almost like we're training."

Albain is unmoved by his Student's sarcasm.

"Tell me, are you practicing to fight others or beasts? "

The twins turn to each other. Mika is the first to speak up.

"Well... both. A Mage's scope is whatever threatens the realm."

Albain nods his head in approval.

"Right. Beasts, however, would they offer a straight fight?"

Serah chimes in with a scoff.

"No, obviously not. What are you getting at?"

A devilish grin forms on his face. Their eyes are wide, the corners of their mouths sullen.

"Enjoy the rest of your day!" Singing as he walks away.

The fire crackles behind the girls as they contemplate Albain's intention in shock, fearing what is to come. Sparks and embers bounce about, dancing to an unheard song. The clinkining of plates and cutlery echo the halls, chattering voices tell stories of adventure and humility.

A nearby member his shares story to his compatriots.

".... That's nothing compared to what came afterward. Once I was done, a second Drake showed up! So here I am, a Lightning Mage fighting something immune to Lightning and..."

Serah returns to laying on her back, arm stretched into the air. Swallowing envy like a slimey rock, she sighs and Mika takes notice.

"You've been sighing all day, what's wrong?"

Serah unfolds her hand and stares at the palm.

"Why can't we use Magic? We have it, but we can't use it. It's not fair." Serah chokes.

Mika touches her chest. It's warm. Warmer than the rest of her body, a telltale sign of a functioning Magicka -- or Magic Heart -- and potential to be a Mage. Despite this, they are unable to cast spells. Their Magicka fails to release their Mana.

Reaching out her arms, a stream flows towards her finger tips. She releases, and it fizzles out. Mika stares, inquisitive.

"We'll figure it out."

"I believe you." Serah replies with little hesitation.

Mika stares at the tables around her. A spot of drool peaks out the corners of her mouth.

"I'm hungry, do you want something?"

She rushes towards a Hall Attendant, out of earshot before Serah could process what her gluttonous sister had said. Dumbfounded she closes her eyes once again. This time, she is allowed to sleep.