Extra Chapter 1 - Rickard (Patreon)

“Rickard!” The woman’s voice cried out from the main house. “Make sure you milk the cows!”

“Okay, mom!” Rickard set to the task with gusto, sitting down on a chunk of wood and setting to his chores for the day.

Rickard’s life was simple. It was just him, his mother, and his sister. They worked in the Imperial Farmlands. His sister, Feana, was very sickly and tried to help around the farm but stayed indoors most of the time. His mother did some type of work that took her into town, and brought them some money, but Rickard’s job was to make sure they were fed.

And he was always second in his mother’s eyes. Feana was doted upon. Rickard was left to fend for himself. But he didn’t mind. He loved his sister. He had to protect her.

He continued his set of chores with diligence born from a lifetime of physical labor. Despite being only sixteen, he had stepped into the role of farmer as best he could since his father passed a few years prior.

He quickly set to forking hay into the cow’s feeding trough. Wiping his brow, he paused as he looked out at a strange sight.

A man with a robe, and a staff, coming through one of the rows between the crops.

A mage.

Rickard’s breath caught in his throat.

I’m going to be tested?

Every child who lived in a town or city in The Holy Empire was able and encouraged to attend school, learning how to read, write, perform arithmetic, and more advanced subjects such as history.

In the villages, they were lucky if a village elder taught them numbers and letters alone.

In those schools, every year, a Mage College evaluator would visit and test every student. If they were found to have a high enough Magic Potency to the point, they would be a danger to themselves or others, they would be offered tutelage at a Mage College.

Villages were lucky if an evaluator visited once every ten years.

Rickard sprinted down the road, “Hey! Over here!”

The man with the staff came to a stop in front of him. He was tall – taller than Rickard by a head. His eyes glinted with the sparkles that marked one as a mage – properly trained in the manipulation of their Quintessence. But he was not a normal person. He was gaunt, pale, and looked hollow – a Stossan. The oldest race on Heimfold, and the not-quite undead, not-quite alive survivors of The Void Invasion.

“Ah,” his voice was raspy, “Tell me, where is your village center?”

Rickard pointed to the East, “About a mile that way.”

“Thank you.” The mage began to turn but Rickard stepped alongside him.

“Are you going to test people?”

“Yes. I am Cipher. That is my role. Evaluate on behalf of The Archrune Spire Mage College.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. Bring your family to the village center. And spread the word.” The mage walked off.

Rickard ran home, screaming for his mother. “Get Feana! We have to tell everyone!”

I might be chosen.

That evening there was a small feast in honor of Cipher. A mage evaluator in a village was rare, but a Stossan was even more notable. They rarely left the high deserts of Lestosk.

Rickard knew. He knew that he was special. He had felt it in his bones. Born under a prominent sign – a beam of sunlight piercing through the clouds to fall upon him despite the dirty window of the room he was delivered in.

Cipher sat at a small table and laid out a large cloth bundle. As he unrolled it, a tumble of crystals clattered about, and he deftly set them apart. “Come! Any who wish to be tested.”

He explained that if a crystal responded by glowing, that the individual was able to become a mage. If that was the case, then they would have the chance to leave this life behind and go to a Mage College – learning and practicing until they graduated – and then working on behalf of that institution until they worked off their schooling costs. Normally, five years of work would suffice.

The smallest children were ushered forward first. Toddlers had their parents hold their hands over the crystals.

But none resonated.

Then came the next wave of children.

Again, no resonance.

Rickard held his breath as Feana stepped forward. As soon as she had approached the table, the entire array of crystals – all five hundred, each representing different elements of creation – glowed with a dim light.

“Ah,” Cipher smiled. “You have resonance with all of them. That makes you a generalist, or universalist. Quite special.”

Rickard’s heart soared and his mother gasped in shock. Generalists and Universalists were the rarest type of mage, able to do practically anything with magic, and having Affinity with all elements of creation – even ones still undiscovered.

But they weren’t very powerful. A universalist would not be able to create as large of a flame as a mage with only an Affinity to fire. Their versatility is what made them so powerful.

Feana coughed and began to collapse. Rickard rushed forward to catch her. “Are you okay?”

Her breathing was shallow, and she smiled dimly.

Cipher shook his head, “She is weak. Too weak for a regular journey.” He looked up at Rickard’s mother. “Do I have your permission to take her to The Archrune Spire?”

Rickard’s mother nodded emphatically. “Yes! Oh, please yes!”

Cipher nodded and gestured for Rickard to set her gently on a nearby seat. “I must finish the evaluations.”

More people came forward – in ascending age order – and eventually it was Rickard’s turn.

If she was a universalist, then I should be a mage too.

But not a single crystal responded to him.

He fumed. He was born under an auspicious sign. He should be special. He left the building and stomped his way back home.

The years went by. Rickard did not care for his sister’s fate one bit. He focused fully on his farm labor, improving his physique, and preparing for mandatory military service in the Imperial Legions. At eighteen, two years after Cipher’s visit, he made the journey to Drekhold and signed up.

The military was rigorous. Rickard traveled across the breadth of The Holy Empire, learning the trade of being a legionnaire. From basic drills to advanced combat tactics, and even mass war games to simulate a full-scale conflict – he was…middling. Always in the middle of the pack. Never standing out for promotion.

Just persisting.

I’m supposed to be special.

He had been told that his whole life. Ever since his birth, the local clergy had stated he had a ‘destiny’ to fulfill.

But what is it?

The answer came years later, when he had finished his service, and was staying in Drekhold to celebrate with the other soldiers. One of them took him aside and showed him the sunburst – Lux’s holy symbol. He invited Rickard to a service at the Lightbringer’s temple.

Every Artificial God did not just have one religious organization. They had many. For there are many interpretations of light and what it encompasses. In Lux’s case, what was light? Just a source of illumination? Justice, truth, honor, guidance, knowledge, purity, and even more were possible interpretations. And thus, her many churches, monasteries, and cults.

The Lightbringers welcomed him with open arms. They were the martial branch of Lux’s various religions, and he felt like his skills would be perfectly suited to the task. He devoted himself wholeheartedly to bring glory to Lux.

And to earn himself a place in her Afterlife.

For that was the truest goal of service. It may be disguised by good works and deeds, but ultimately at their core, that person desired to be secure once they passed on. Not venturing to the unknown, but to know for certain that they would go to a place they would enjoy when they died.

It was then that his destiny came to light – quite literally. He met the clergy who had helped deliver him so many years ago.

And heralded him as a future champion of the Goddess.

Rickard was sent to a cloister dedicated to training new clerics. He learned about the God’s true power; that every living creature generated Quintessence, and by giving their devotion to their God through worship or deeds in their name, the God would then receive that Quintessence.

For some chosen few – her priests and clerics – she would give them a fragment of her divine power. Heat, as the term went. And they could store that up in a limitless supply, using it little by little, or saving it up for an enormous, miraculous spell.

Rickard dreamed, ever since joining The Lightbringers, of becoming a paladin. The most holy warrior: they were clerics who were taken to The Sun while alive, put through grueling training, and emerging as holy avengers who would enforce Lux’s will on Heimfold.

Next Chapter