Author Beta Feedback - Scourge: The Arcanas (5 chaps)

Another author with about 8k words just looking to see if people enjoy the story and any potential feedback. one post '5 chapters'

Something fun to read and see if you like it. Standard Progression LitRPG

for synopsis:

'the world is recovering after the devastation and the Exodus of the old Scourges. now the leftover inhabitants are getting back on their feet. MC is among them and trying for a better life by becoming a Scourge.

But war still looms on the horizon. And most of all, the threat that those old Scourges would come back dangles on their head'

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Chapter-1

[Thorin]

They said the glare of the afternoon sun had displeased the Wizard, so he waved for the clouds, and they shaded their town. When the patters of the rain became too somber, he halted the droplets and sent them back to the sky. The endless snow had irked him once, so he melted the white field and flooded the river. 

They were tales to be sung for the children. The drunkards bragged about them as if the feats were their doing. Even the storytellers spun the whispers with words of grandeur and kindled everlasting fables. A few of the many that the Wizards had left behind for the mortals. Whatever the truth might be. However real the extent of their legends was. In the eyes of the mundane, they were immortals. And Thorin yearned to be one.

He rechecked the trunk he’d packed last night and paced along his home to confirm he had everything. The jingles of the coins in his pocket clinked harder as he scuttled around. The dawn had already broken, the sky had already grayed with a tinge of orange. The Wizard announced yesterday that the test would start at daybreak, and Thorin did not wish to kiss the end of the line that would soon snake out from the test site. 

And so, with a deep breath that stuffed the essence of his home in his chest, and a prayer to his parents’ urns, he hauled the trunk and headed out. 

“Let’s go,” he murmured to himself, to support his trembling confidence.

He greeted the familiar faces with quiet hellos and spent some words for those who wished him well. He wasn’t alone in his journey along the green roads, however. Families that hoped for the same as Thorin sent their children away with hugs and tears too. And they all traced the same steps, moving away from the town. Some trudged with heavy hearts and misted eyes, while some strode with a grin that looked forward to their majestic future.

Soon, the dirt road brimmed with children’s chatters and their footfalls, with a hint of sobs mixed in. Thorin lugged his trunk along the crowd, huffing and puffing. As the bend up ahead neared, he broke away from the horde and cut his way across the jungle to the side. It was a shortcut known only to those who could risk losing their way in the forest without worrying their families.

The crowns of the trees shaded his walk and cooled his sweat. The relief from the shadows eased his pants. He ran his fingers through his drenched raven hair, and with a moment of rest, he marched ahead briskly.

Yet, his burst of enthusiasm lived short. It died when he saw a girl waiting ahead, tapping his foot in annoyance with her arms crossed.

“Liz,” he said. “Did you come to see me off?” 

He asked but he already knew the answer. She wasn’t the kind to bid him a warm farewell, nor could she ever wish him luck.

“I told you to not go,” she said, her nostrils flaring. “Will you really not listen to me?”

“I have to go, Liz,” he said and adjusted his purchase on the trunk.

“Thorin!” She almost screamed. “You promised to stay here with me.”

“No, I did not. I’ve always wanted this, Liz, you know that,” Thorin said. “I hope you have a happy life with Kaine. But I have to go now.”

“He left too…” She sobbed, and Thorin’s steps halted. “Why do you guys get to leave, and I don’t!” She screamed hysterically.

Thorin sighed and grabbed all the coins from his pocket. “Take this,” he said. “And find a good man to settle down with. Why cry for someone who left?”

“I don’t need your pity money!” She slapped his hand away, and the coins flew for the woods. 

Thorin looked at the dense forest in distress then turned his eyes towards her. “That was all I had, Lizeth,” he said. “I’m sorry that Kaine left, but I can't stay. Not for you, not for anyone else.” He hauled his trunk again and walked past her.

She cried for his few steps then turned to him with fire in her eyes. “I hope you fail too, Thorin,” she said. “I hope you stay miserable.” Her bitter words stung him, but he didn’t let them falter his walk. He buried the surging emotions with a deep breath and headed for the test site. 

…..

By the time he reached the clearing where the ‘Wizards’ tested them, the line of children had already trickled out of the premises. The minutes Lizeth took from Thorin now saw him behind his eager and anxious peers. Regardless, he was still one of the early birds today and carried the patience of a statue. Even if they inched ahead in a crawl, slower than the line of ants, he could tolerate it with a grin. For at the end of it stood the chance to reach for his dreams.

Thorin waited with his trunk, and the queue behind him stretched again. Those who met their friends formed their cliques, and soon their chatters merged into a garbled mess. Though those up ahead didn’t include him in their murmurs, the whispers that the wind carried told him the state of the test. About a ninth of those who entered the tent came out in tears so far. The rest never showed their faces. They should’ve succeeded, Thorin presumed. Those who failed would return to the town in dejection, lost and defeated. The thought swirled in his mind and pulled Lizeth’s words to the surface. What if he too failed like them, like her…

Anxiety ate away at him as he shifted his trunk up the queue with him whenever they moved ahead. The breeze of the morning respited him from time to time, but the cruel nature was quite stingy with them today. Nevertheless, the wait didn’t torture him for long, as soon, it was his turn to enter the voracious maw of the tent.

He entered with his trunk and bowed at the first sight of a man. 

“Come, sit,” the man said with a gentle tone carrying his heavy voice. He adjusted the collar of his faded white overcoat that not only matched his grayed stubble but also the modesty of the tent and prepared for Thorin’s test. Beside him, the table, and the chairs, the tent sat empty. If there was anything mystical in this tent, it was the crystal ball that refused to reflect anything.

“Hello, sir, my name is Thorin, sir,” Thorin said as he took the chair and teetered at the edge. “Thorin Vargas Aether.”

“Slow down, kid, we’ll get to it soon,” the man said. “Give me your hand.”

Thorin did as told, and the man pressed his hand onto the crystal ball. It was cold to the touch, and its chill even escaped beyond his wrist.

“Now, let’s start the process,” the man said as he took the quill with his right hand and flipped to a new page in his diary. “What is your name, Thorin Vargas Aether?”

Thorin stumbled for words, but the slight chuckle of the man that soon followed reddened his ears in embarrassment. “Thorin Vargas Aether, sir,” he said, lowering his head.

“Your father’s name?”

“Vargas Von Aether, sir.”

“How old are you?” the man asked.

“Fifteen, sir,” Thorin said. “I’ll be sixteen in a few months.”

The man ran the quill on the page with each of his answers, as the ink spread on the yellowed leaf, and his words waited when he asked the question. “What was the last meal you had?”

“My last meal, sir?” Thorin asked back in confusion. “Water-soaked bread with blanched spinach.” But he still replied.

“Is that your regular meal?” the man asked.

“Sometimes I treat myself to chicken and hog flesh, sir,” Thorin said. “When I earn enough to afford it.”

“What about your parents?”

“They died when I was much younger, sir.”

“Have you ever drunk liquor?”

“No, sir…just once, with my friends.”

“Have you ever eaten anything weird from the wild, something that caused you a severe fever, or made you sick?”

“No, sir,” Thorin said.

“Have you ever met any oddity, any weird phenomena, that made you sick?” the man asked.

“Oddity, sir? One winter, the clouds had shattered, and all the snow came down at once,” Thorin said. “I ran a fever after that. A lot of us did.”

The ‘Wizard’ glanced at him, as his quill darted on the leaf, and continued his question. “How many languages can you speak and write?”

“The common tongue, sir, and Rayweth,” Thorin said, puffing his chest in pride. Rayweth was the tongue that the Wizards used to bend the miracles to their favor, or so the legends said.

Instead of the praise Thorin looked for, though, the man laughed. “You too? Who told you to learn that?”

“Everyone…did, sir,” Thorin said, his confidence deflated, and his shoulders slouched from disappointment. He and his friends had spent years learning that language, twisting their tongues and straining their wrists, just in preparation for this moment. Yet, from the looks of it, it was all for naught.

“It’s fine, at least you learned something new,” the man said. “Let’s continue. Have you ever slept with a woman?”

“Yes, sir…no, sir, I haven’t,” he said.

The man hummed then spent a minute scribbling on his diary. “Last question. Why do you want to become a ‘Wizard’?”

“Because of the endless possibilities, sir, and to leave the mundane behind.” Thorin uttered the words he’d practiced doggedly in front of the mirror. The sentences he learned by rote.

“Mechanical answer,” the man said and looked at him. “Do you really think it’s all green grass on our side? That you’ll have an easy life once you become a Wizard?”

“I’m certainly not entitled to an easy life, sir,” Thorin said. “But I hope for the freedom of choice to make my life easier. I want to fight for it.”

“The importance of individual strength magnifies significantly for us,” the man said. “You might still live a happy mortal life if you’re weak, but once you’re on our side, you either eat or get eaten.”

“One of my friends used to say, sir, that you can be the king of the mortals, but you will still bow to the beggar of the Wizards,” Thorin said and met the man’s eyes, his gaze unwavering. “I’m prepared to eat, sir, and I understand if I get eaten.”

“Very well,” the man said. The crystal ball withdrew its chill and rested its matted glow. And the man’s quill scratched the leaf for the last time as he finalized his words and signed his name—Thomas Neil Valadin. “You’re qualified. Your primary strength is ‘Spirit’, it will be your driver of growth from now on. Initial evaluation of ‘Spirit is above average, class-3. Slight malnourishment affecting the evaluation. You have an affinity with multiple Arcanas, explore them on your own. You will be given a list of recommended specializations when you’ve explored them all. Now, Thorin Vargas Aether, do you accept the branding to be a Scourge?”

“Yes. I do, sir,” Thorin said, trying to quieten his racing heart that celebrated before he could.

“Branding the <Inception> spell model…”

A soothing voice echoed in his head, and the back of his right hand itched under Sir Thomas’s clutch. Nicks and cuts intersected on his skin. His blood flowed along those slits and revealed a complex design. When they’d all connected into a complete circuit, the wounds singed, and the blood glowed. A wave of current raced from his hand and coursed through his body. Before Thorin could capture the change, the process settled. The etched ‘spell model’ on his hand scabbed and faded by the second. Soon, as he accepted all the bizarre, as Sir Thomas released his grip, the voice in his head turned into glowing words before his gray eyes.

[Branding complete. You are now a ‘Scourge’ of Eldeth. Please register your name.]

“Thorin Vargas Aether,” he blurted.

[Welcome, Sir Thorin Vargas Aether. I am Eldeth’s Archive.]

[Complimentary first scan complete. Forte—'Spirit’]

[Uploading a copy of the database…]

[Database Uploaded.]

[Severing the link to give the Scourge full autonomy…]

[Godspeed, Sir.]

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter-2

The tingle in his body rested when the barrage of sentences ended. And a panel flashed in front of him.

Status: Healthy

Scourge [--]: Sequence-0 | Layer-1

Name: Thorin Vargas Aether

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.1

Spirit: 2.0

Acuity: 1.3

Resistance: 1.2

Arcana: [--]

Spells: Sequence-0

Active:

Mastered:

Equipment: Null. 

Storage: Null.

Mana Stone: 0

By the time Thorin went through all the details, his childish excitement for the new toy had peaked and settled. The box full of words hovered ahead, and it went where his eyes went. He’d never heard or read about magic like this. But since it was from the Wizards, the ‘immortals’ who changed the weather as they pleased, he could accept its peculiarity. From this day on, he was also one of them. He’d become what he always desired to be, a Wizard…no…

“Not a Wizard? A Scourge?” Thorin muttered aloud as his eyes ran along the title in the panel, and he thought back to what Sir Thomas had said. Even the ‘Archive’ had repeated that title.  

“That’s what the mortals call us, Wizards,” Sir Thomas said, dipping and leaving his quill into the ink bottle. “Scourge is our identity and our stigma. It’s our title that we wore till dishonor. You will eventually understand the reason behind its origin.” He ripped the page that he’d written on, a clean cut down the spine, and handed it to Thorin. “Give this to the first man you see. He’ll settle you down for now. Go out from the back now, and congratulations on becoming a Scourge, Thorin. I hope you fulfill your dreams.”

“Thank you, sir.” Thorin bowed to him, clutching the rolled page with a gentle but firm grip, then went for the back exit in a slight daze. 

“Your trunk,” Sir Thomas said. Thorin stumbled back with a sorry and dragged it away.

When he opened the flap, the glare of the sun stung his eyes, and he squinted. Slowly, the light dimmed, and the sight of the wide ground cleared up. The trees had fenced them in while the children of his age had taken shelter under the open sky. Some rested under the shade of the dense green crowns. Some formed groups and chatted. While some meditated like monks from the temple. There were sparkling eyes that brimmed with pride and confidence. There were also forced smiles and downcast faces that barely held it together.

“You’ll mix in soon enough, don’t worry,” a man said from his side and broke his gaze. “It won't take too long. Can I have that paper?”

“Ah, yes, sir,” Thorin fumbled on his purchase, dropped his trunk, and finally handed the scroll over.

“Thorin Vargas Aether,” the man said, and noted down in his diary on the table. “Forte is ‘Spirit’. Alright, it’s all done.” 

He took out a hardcover book, another yellowed parchment, and a brooch that carried the moon’s gleam from under the table and handed them to Thorin. “This is a Spellbook to store and manage all your spell models. It also has a basic spell already written that can take the form of any spirit-type arcana. You’ll get to use it once you trigger your first arcana. The parchment has the list of all academies that are recruiting students this time around. They all have different strengths and weaknesses with different arcanas, so pick which you like once you know what your arcanas are. And finally, the brooch, it matches your eye color, so you can have that.” The man chuckled and looked up at the dumbfounded Thorin. “Just kidding, it’s the ticket to the train, don’t lose it.”

“Sir, how do I know my ‘arcanas’?” Thorin asked, pocketing what he could, and clutching what he couldn’t.

“Go meditate,” the man said. “When you feel the pull, do not resist. If you can't, don’t fret too much. It’ll be easier on the train.”

“I understand, sir, thank you,” Thorin said.

When he walked away and looked for a place to sit, a hand waved at him from near the trees. “Thorin!” the boy hollered. “Here.”

Kaine…

Thorin gritted his teeth and stormed over with his nostrils flared. It was because of this bastard that Lizeth ambushed him today. He wanted to knock at least two of his teeth out, at least two. He’d almost punched him, but Kaine grabbed his fist with a foolish and groveling smile. “I’m really sorry,” he said.

“She ambushed me,” Thorin said in annoyance, dropping his trunk to the side. 

“You know I was never going to stay,” Kaine said, putting Thorin’s trunk neatly by the other two. They all matched their scars and their age, just like their owners. “No matter how many times I told her that I want to try for the test, she just blocked it off, like she didn’t hear me. She thought I wouldn’t dare leave if she said no. Always dreaming in her fantasyland of how everything would go her way. She became worse and worse after she was rejected.”

“Why drag me into this? I don’t give a shit about her anymore,” Thorin said, plopping down by the tree.

“Because she got rejected, she wanted all of us to stay back,” Kaine said with a shrug. “If she’d passed, she would’ve left in a heartbeat without ever looking back. Fuck promises then. That’s just how she is, brother. I didn’t know she would go after you when I left though.”

“She threw all the coins I had, all of them,” Thorin said. “I have nothing left anymore, so you’re responsible for my food from now on.”

“She can be quite brutal,” Kaine said. “But I think they will feed us, so you probably won't need any coins.”

“For free? Where?” Thorin asked and craned his neck to look around. He hadn’t broken his morning fast yet, so his stomach would rumble soon. “Did they say that?”

“Don’t know, but I saw some kids get some bread from the man at the table,” Kaine said. “I’ll get something later for you, even if they ask for money.”

“No shit, you will. You’re going to feed me from now on.” Thorin said, leaning back onto the tree, then sat straight and stared at the third trunk. “Jared also made it?”

“Yeah, the cunt is sulking behind the tree,” Kaine said, pointing to their back.

Thorin circled around and found him sobbing in the shadows with his head buried in his knees. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Thorin.” Jared looked up at him, covered in tears and snot. “I’m average,” he said.

“What?”

“His evaluation was average,” Kaine explained.

“What was yours?” Thorin asked.

“Above average,” Kaine said, flumping to the side. 

“Same, above average.” Thorin took a seat there too and sat on the jutted root, stretching his legs. 

Jared bawled harder at his answer and drenched his ugly mug in more tears. 

“So, we all passed except for her,” Thorin said. “She’s going to go bonkers when she realizes that.” 

“We won't be here to suffer the fallout from that,” Kaine said.

“I just wish she can settle down peacefully…” Jared wiped his snot and continued. “With a man who won't leave her like this bastard did.”

“You back-stabbing bitch.” Kaine bared his canines at him. “Just a while ago you were saying how you got lucky that she didn’t come after you.”

“This and that are different,” Jared said, using his tears to fix his messy beige hair.

“Hello, excuse me.” A blonde-haired boy knocked on the tree they sat by with a wooden box in his hand and a curl plastered on his lips. “Would you like some smoked jerky?” He offered the box. The tantalizing aroma triggered Thorin’s saliva as his stomach roared and replied for him.

“Did you just knock on the tree?” Kaine asked, gaping at the blonde boy.

“Yes, I didn’t want to rudely interrupt,” the boy said, his sunny smile not dwindling one bit.

“You’re not interrupting at all,” Thorin said, and swiftly took the box from him. “Come sit, eat with us.” He nonchalantly flipped the invitation and sat him down by the root.

“What’s your name?” Jared asked. “I’m Jared, and this is Thorin.”

Kaine kicked him from the side then glared at him. “I’m Kaine.”

“Vaughn,” the boy answered with a polite nod. “Vaughn Jaeger Haden.”

“We’re doing full names?” Thorin chuckled with a mouthful of jerky. “Thorin Vargas Aether. Where did you get this? This is really good.”

“Jared Augustin Roth. Leave some for me too, you fucker.” He jumped on Thorin, and they fought for the meat.

“I have more, I was going to share it with everyone here,” Vaughn said. “My mother packed them for me.”

Kaine swooped to his side and wrapped his hand around his neck. “No, no, you shouldn’t do that. The others won't be as welcoming as us. You and I are going to be best buddies from now on, Vaughn. So, leave it to me, I’ll protect you. I’m Kaine Stein Regina, nice to meet you. Now tell me, what else did your mother pack?”

“I have some marinated eggs as well.”

“And this is how the legendary team was born,” Jared declared, puffing his chest but on his knees, defeated in the battle for the jerky.

“You won't be in it, though.” Thorin smirked and thoroughly smeared the salt on his wounds. “You’re average.”

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter-3

“Have you guys considered which guild you’ll join?” Vaughn asked, interrupting the three.

“Guild?” Thorin asked back in confusion. “Weren’t we joining an academy? I thought they were recruiting us as students.”

“Academies are an extension of their guilds,” Vaughn said. “They will teach us, then we can join their guild.”

“How do you know all that?” Kaine asked, chomping on his share of the meat jerky. “Wait, you’re not from our town, are you? I don’t remember ever seeing you.”

“My parents are Scourges. They told me all I had to know,” Vaughn said, smiling, and a bit of puff in his chest and a rise in his shoulders. “My family lives on that mountain.” He pointed at the peak in the distance, shrouded in green and the morning mist. It had almost reached for the clouds but shied away from touching them.

“Oi, blondie, are you bragging right now?” Jared went for the bite, snarling. “Let me tell you, I’m the wealthiest in our team, my parents left me a huge house to live in.”

“You are Uncle Jaeger’s son?” Thorin asked, looking at the mountain then at Vaughn.

“Do you know my father?”

“Yeah, we met him several times when we got lost in the woods,” Thorin said. “He did say he had a son and a daughter. I never realized he was a Wizard…a Scourge though.”

Kaine chuckled. “Yeah, Thorin always said his daughter must be really beautiful because Uncle Jaeger has such nice golden hair.”

Thorin kicked him and put him down with a fist in the guts. “He’s just joking,” he said, laughing. “Did your sister come too?”

“No, she’s still a few years away from the required age,” Vaughn said. “I’ll come back for her when she takes the test.”

“So, have you already decided which guild you’ll go for?” Thorin asked.

“It will depend on what my arcanas are, but I’m leaning towards Silverfield, since my dad was in that guild,” Vaughn said.

“How do we figure out our arcanas?” Jared asked. “That man said to meditate. Do I need to chant like those monks?”

“Should we all try?” Kaine joined in when he recovered. “If possible, it would be better if we choose the same guild. We can stay together and help each other out.”

“Yeah, let’s give it a try. We’ll talk of guilds after that,” Thorin said and stepped away a few meters for silence. 

The deepening shadows of the woods embraced his stature as he sat for meditation. Others followed his example and found their quiet places while Thorin let his thoughts slip away without clutching them. Soon, time lost its meaning for him. The seconds had perhaps turned into minutes, but the darkness of his world shielded him from its passage. The man had said to not resist the pull. But Thorin hadn’t felt any so far. Thus, he sank deeper and deeper, barely grazing the realm of sleep. 

Finally, as he’d nigh dozed off, some existences tugged at him from five ends. These were his Arcanas, he reckoned from all the information he received since this morning. But before he could decide which pull he would answer, his strong consciousness took over. The active thoughts wiped away his dormant state, and the Arcanas backed off. 

He woke up with an annoyed click of his tongue and looked at his mates. Kaine had already opened his eyes before him and shook his head with pursed lips. Jared was forcing his meditation and sweated bullets, reciting the broken chants that they’d heard from the monks. While Vaughn was in a serene state as arcs of lightning crackled around him. 

They held their tongues, and a tinge of envy ran its course in Thorin’s heart. Nonetheless, it was only a matter of time before he connected to his Arcanas. This wasn’t a race, he told himself. 

Vaughn woke up some minutes later, exhaling the breath he held in his chest. “I succeeded,” he said, looking at the three. “My first arcana is lightning.” 

“You beat me by a hair’s breadth.” Jared woke up too from his ‘monk’ meditation and chimed in.

“Did you succeed as well?” Thorin asked.

“No, but I was almost there,” Jared said. “I saw those stars, there were tens of them.”

“That’s because you shut your eyes so tight, you dumbfuck,” Kaine said and rattled him by his hair. “They weren’t your arcanas. Don’t say he beat you by a hair’s breadth when you can't even sense the pull.”

“I have four arcanas in total, all spirit based,” Vaughn said. “How about you guys?”

“I have four too, spirit based as well,” Kaine said. 

“I have five, same, all spirit,” Thorin said.

“I’m telling you I have dozens,” Jared said but Thorin kicked him away. 

“What was your evaluation, Vaughn?” Thorin asked.

“Above average, class-3,” Vaughn said. 

“Same as us then,” Kaine said. “This one’s average though.” He pointed at Jared and finished him off. 

“Which academy will you choose now?” Thorin asked.

“Silverfield is still an option,” Vaughn said. “They have a class on Lightning Arcana.”

“If we have multiple arcanas, does that mean we must choose an academy that covers them all?” Jared asked from the ground.

“No, the basics are mostly the same,” Vaughn said. “My dad said you can manage even if you don’t attend your specific arcana class. You can apply the same knowledge across the board as long as you understand the concept.”

“That will make it easier if we are to stick together,” Thorin said, then looked at Vaughn. “Do you want to join the same academy as us, Vaughn?”

Vaughn smiled. “If you would have me,” he said. 

“Don’t be so uptight,” Kaine said and clapped his back, laughing. The echo of his slap and Vaughn’s cough bounced in the forest and escaped towards the clearing. “Let’s take a look at the list of academies and decide which one we pick.”

“Let’s do this,” Jared said, patting the soil off his clothes. “Pick an academy that at least matches with one arcana from each of us. For now, let’s look for one that has Lightning Arcana.” 

“You finally uttered words of wisdom,” Thorin said, gaping at Jared. “What if we don’t find any that can cover all of us though?”

“Then we flip a coin and select one among us who will sacrifice for the rest,” Kaine said. 

“I’m the unluckiest of this bunch, so it’s most likely going to be me on the chopping block,” Thorin said and took out the list of academies. 

The parchment worded out all the academies, their parent guilds, and all the extensive details that they needed for their decision. Several among them had listed the Lightning Arcana as their forte, so they separated them with a tick.

“This one looks to be the best option,” Kaine said and pointed at one when they went through them all. ‘Crown of Ashes’—the academy had the lengthiest information staining the parchment among its peers. The compendium for the Arcanas they taught at the academy had surpassed the simple bullet list and became a paragraph. It had Lightning on the list and many more.

“That’s a ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ type of guild,” Vaughn said. “They dip their fingers in many arcanas but very few that they can call their forte.”

“It suits our situation then,” Thorin said. “They’ll start us with the basics, and we’ll master our arcanas on our own.” 

“Let’s mark it for now,” Kaine said. “We can discuss this further when we all have triggered our arcanas.”

“Apprentices! Gather up!” Who had manned the table after the tent now stood in the clearing along with Sir Thomas and hollered for all the children. “Gather up!!” he yelled again, the echo leaving for the forest, and the gust fluttering his blue overcoat.

“Are we finally moving?” Jared asked with sparkles in his eyes as the four prepared their luggage and moved towards the man. So did the other children, and their numbers gathered towards the center.

“I’ll finally get to ride this ‘train’,” Kaine said, moving his shoulders and hauling his trunk. 

“Where’s your Spellbook?” Thorin asked, looking at Jared.

“My forte is ‘Vitality’,” Jared said. “He said I would get to choose a weapon later on.”

“You really are the odd one out among us, in many ways,” Thorin said, shaking his head. When he’d continued his chatter, as the shadows of the forest waved him a farewell, a pair of skeletal claws caressed his neck and hugged him from behind. The world dimmed. The sun faded away without the clouds. The frigid breath slipped along his nape and froze his blood, as the fingers of death gently reached for his cheeks. 

Thorin halted his steps and sighed. “Good morning, mother, it’s nice to see you again,” he whispered. And the Archive responded to his state with its words hovering before his eyes. 

[Arcana Triggered: Connected to the Death Arcana.]

-----------------------------------------------------XXXX-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter-4

“What happened? Why did you stop?” Kaine asked, and the gray world shattered around Thorin. It was still the sunny morning of the summer. The breeze still carried the warmth, and the frigid breath had vanished. Nonetheless, his blood ran cold, and the waning words before him proved the reality of the past minute. The reality that had greeted him every day for years…
She had stained his childhood with her presence. So much so that her chilling caress had long started to comfort his uneasy heart.

Thorin heaved a heavy breath. “I triggered my arcana,” he said.

“Fuck! While walking?” Jared cried. 

“Which arcana?” Kaine asked.

“I’m not sure if it’s good,” Thorin said. “We’ll talk about it later. Let’s go, he’s calling again.”

…..

“The tests are all done now,” Sir Thomas said, his loud voice tearing the wind. “Those who passed are all here. You will be fellow Scourges from here on. Now, the train is about to arrive, so we must head for the platform. But before that, there are some things you all need to know.” He paused for a look at the students, and continued when he had all their ears.
“You will go through several rites of passage during this journey. You will have to kill your way out of them. You either live and pass or die and end it all.” 

The wave of shock shot through the children and their gasps and murmurs took over. 

“What the fuck?” Kaine blurted in alarm.

“Dad did say that they’d changed the admission process in the last few decades,” Vaughn said with a cloudy face. “He didn’t say how…”

“What if it’s a non-combat type Scourge?” Jared asked, not cranking his voice to actually raise the question. 

“Everyone has to find his own way of survival,” Thorin said, feeling a bit cutoff from the wave of heat that Sir Thomas’s declaration had set off. Perhaps the assimilation with the ‘Death Arcana’ was taking its toll. “Either be the one with the blade or support one. We just have to live, regardless of the method, just as we’ve done to this day.” 

“Yeah, we just have to live, like we always did,” Kaine said as his eyes hardened. 

“You two need to trigger your arcana as soon as you can,” Thorin said to Kaine and Jared. 

“Please calm down,” Sir Thomas took the stage again. “It’s not all doom and gloom. Please understand that we won't put you through a rite of passage that we thought you can't survive. This is to give you a glimpse of the world you’re entering, not to trim your numbers. There may be some deaths along the way, yes, but we hope and believe that you all can survive this and come out on the other side as winners. Now, Sir Peter here will take all your questions and will brief you on details while I go check on the status of the train’s arrival.” He looked at ‘Sir Peter’, the man who sat at the table after the tent, and nodded before taking his leave. 

A student had raised his hand before Sir Peter had the chance to say anything. 

“Yes, go ahead,” Sir Peter said.

“Will we get any weapons, sir?” the student asked.

“Those who have ‘Spirit’ as their forte have been given a Spellbook,” Sir Peter said. “It has a basic projectile-type spell model in it that can adapt to any arcana. You need to learn to cast it before the first rite begins. You can discuss among yourselves, teach each other, or come to me if you’re having trouble with it. For those who will major in ‘Vitality’, you will be given an array of weapons to choose from before the rite begins. Till then, practice and train your physique as much as you can. And for those who have a balance of ‘Spirit’ and ‘Vitality’, you can either pick one for now or practice for both, it’s up to you.” 

“Sir, what if we can't trigger our arcana?” another student asked. “Not even one arcana.”

“You will have plenty of time before the first rite,” Sir Peter said. “Your rooms in the train are also equipped with spell models to assist in this specifically. But if you can't awaken even one arcana after all that, then you only have a few options. Either grit your teeth and claw your way out somehow or follow someone who can keep you safe and hope he will do so. Anyone else wondering about this issue?” 

He looked at the crowd of students, and the students looked at each other, but no hand came above the prairie of their hairs anymore. “I’ll continue then. After you survive through all the rites, we will enter the last leg of the journey. We will stop at each academy in a specific order. So, before we get to the first one, you will need to decide which one you want to join. You don’t need to match all your arcanas with the academy’s classes but try to match at least one. Now, do you have any other questions?”

“What if we don’t want to join any academy, sir?” one student asked.

“That is up to you, you are free to do as you please,” Sir Peter said. “You’ll still be a Scourge, with the branding and the connection to Archive, so take the initiation as a free service from us.” He swept his eyes along the crowd, yet none of the students backed off. Their confidence brimmed in their stance. “Any more questions?” Sir Peter asked again.

“Sir.” Jared finally raised his hand, and he even stood on his toe to reach higher. “Is the food free?”

All he got in reply, however, was a glare from Sir Peter and a widened distance from his mates. They didn’t know him; the stature of the three made it clear.

…..

“You just had to ask that?” Kaine poked Jared in the ribs as Sir Peter led them through the woods. The queue of students broke when the trees disrupted their disciplined march, but they all fell in line again when the path cleared up. Their footfalls had long scared the birds and the animals away, and the forest came alive only with their murmurs today.

“We were all wondering this,” Jared said. “At least we know now. Thorin can stuff his face as much as he wants to.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Thorin said. 

“So, what was your arcana?” Vaughn asked from behind him, but in a whisper. 

Thorin took a deep breath and weighed his reply before the words grinded in his throat. “Death Arcana,” he said. 

“Shit! That’s.” Vaughn almost exclaimed but controlled his yell on time and let the rest of the sentence slip his tongue. “That’s really rare,” he whispered.

“Fuck, so you weren’t lying about the ghosts back then,” Jared said.  

“Does it work that way?” Kaine asked. “I never had any special experience related to any arcana.”

“It’s not an absolute, but some people experience a spillover from their affinities,” Vaughn said. 

“Your dad told you that?” Jared asked.

Vaughn laughed and scratched his head in embarrassment. “All I know comes from him.”

“Did you see your mother again, Thorin?” Kaine asked.

“Yeah,” Thorin said. “Her appearance triggered the arcana for me.”

“Can't be,” Vaughn said with a deep frown. “Thorin, she can't be your mother. Death Arcana doesn’t work that way.”

“I know,” Thorin said, then the wind swallowed his voice. “I know…”

….

The black hunk of metal they called ‘train’ howled before its silhouette touched the bend along the forest. All the students craned their necks and leaned out of the raised platform to watch the raging monster sprint on the trembling ‘rails’. It ran on its own intent, without the pull from any beasts. 

“An old relic from before the Exodus.” Sir Thomas introduced briefly. “It runs on Mana.”

By the time Thorin wrapped his head around its novel concept of creation, it zoomed past them, bringing a torrent of wind that shoved chaos among the students. Soon though, the brakes screeched, and it slowed down, finally halting with a jerk. 

“There are more than plenty of rooms available for all of you,” Sir Peter announced when the doors to the train coaches opened. “Do not fight for them. Get on peacefully and find a room for yourself. Your brooch is your ticket and your key, it will mark the room for you.”

The students climbed the ladders with excitement written all over their faces, while Sir Thomas and Sir Peter walked away for the nose of the train, chatting. Thorin and his mates too got onto an empty coach that had stopped before them and after a short stroll down the corridor, they marked four consecutive rooms as theirs. 

The inside was a cozy small room with only a wide bed by the window and a foldable table that could blend into the wall. Its minimalist touch carried a soothing atmosphere, especially the comforting smell of fresh wood. The zooming view outside the window while lying in the solace of that snug bed could relieve the knotted nerves that had suffered all this morning. But not now. Thorin put his trunk to the side, locked the door, and sat on the bed to check his details. He had to work on his survival.

Archive.

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Chapter-5

Archive.

Status: Healthy

Scourge [--]: Sequence-0 | Layer-1

Name: Thorin Vargas Aether

Species: Human

Vitality: 1.1

Spirit: 2.0

Acuity: 1.3

Resistance: 1.2

Arcana: [Death Arcana]

Spells: Sequence-0

Active:

Mastered:

Equipment: Spellbook. 

Storage: Null.

Mana Stone: 0

The meaning of the words was clear but their context in the panel eluded Thorin. His ‘Spirit’ boasted the highest number among his data, what he presumed was a digitized form of his entity. Yet, he couldn’t grasp its effect on his reality. Because his ‘Spirit’ was his forte, he’d received the Spellbook. That was all he knew. Nevertheless, with the academy and the Archive, as the train rolled forward, he would learn more and come out of the darkness of ignorance. For now, he took out the Spellbook and worked on mastering his weapon. 

He had his first Arcana. The Archive had also acknowledged it. So, instead of triggering another one, he aimed to connect the basic spell to the Death Arcana. The first page of the Spellbook detailed the mechanism. How to ‘observe’ his soul space, his ‘vessel’, and how to trace the spell model around it. 

It said to watch the dot in the blackness of his closed eyes, then fall into it. The train wheeled out with a blaring horn, but Thorin denied his curiosity a glance and sat back on the bed, leaning by the window. He followed the instructions of the book to a tee and looked for that dot. Yet, there was none. He maintained the darkness for minutes, squinting his eyes tightly to evade even a shred of light. He even covered his eyes, but only for a futile attempt. 

Finally, his frustrated exhale marked the end of his first attempt, a failed attempt. He watched the world zoom past through the glass window and let the enamoring vista enthrall him. What did he do wrong? he wondered as the trees whizzed by. The book said to watch the dot, he picked up the Spellbook and read the sentences again. But where did that dot come from? No matter where he looked in that darkness, there was nothing there. Should he imagine the dot? The idea flashed in Thorin’s head, and he sat straight up. 

Without wasting another second, he went for the second try. The blackness greeted him again, but he marred it with an imaginary dot this time. It was a feeble star in the pitch black of his sightless world. Yet, as to assure him of its existence, it didn’t fade away even when his active thoughts interfered with his imagination. And when he envisioned his fall into that dot, he really fell. A new space expanded before him. 

It donned the same darkness as before. It could’ve bragged of no possession, an empty world, if the fleshy spherical ‘vessel’ didn’t mark its presence. It throbbed and squirmed, and the bluish veins wriggled around it. Its hollow insides brimmed with mist—milky white fog. And when Thorin willed it, the fog rushed out to his fingertips.

He opened his eyes and squinted at the thread of fog in his hand. The book called this Mana. Though it followed his command, his control over it left much to be desired as he strained at its turns and spins. Nonetheless, he’d crossed the first hurdle and earned a hearty grin. 

The next step was to trace the spell model around the vessel. There was zero information on how it worked. The book just said to run his finger along the model and imagine carving the same trace into the darkness of his soul space. Thorin did exactly so. As his skin caressed the soft leaf of the book, along the edges and the curves of the spell model, his touch fashioned an imitation around his vessel. His inexperience had twisted some lines and bends, however, and the result was a crumbling spell model that soon faded away. Yet again, his first attempt ended in failure. 

He didn’t lose heart and tried again. His second try failed as well, and the spell model fizzled out. The third and the fourth try showed promise as his practice bettered his ability to trace the spell model. The fifth attempt finally looked hopeful. His carving was far from perfect, but the spell model was intact and on its way towards completion. 

When the ends touched though, when he finished the spell model, his world grayed again. The biting chill seeped into his flesh and slowed the rush of his blood. His excitement of success faded away, and a frigid calm doused him. The hug he expected from his ‘mother’ didn’t come. Instead, his room blurred into a misty forest. 

The red moon peeked at him through the dense foliage. Its scattered light gleamed in the grayness of the woods. The whispers of the wind carried the gloom of the fog. And the threads of mist licked his skin. The ambience of the forest comforted him, more so than his room on the train, and he accepted the bizarreness of his presence here.

“My child.” The soft words echoed with a distant cackle that ruined its gentleness. 

“Mother,” Thorin murmured. “You’ve visited me twice today.” 

Soon, when he’d thought to take a step forward, a swarm of ghosts greeted him from the mist. Their long but tattered cloaks lingered behind them as they floated by the crowns of the trees. The glimpse under their hood only showed gray rotted skin. They snarled and they grinned. They bared their putrefied canines and surrounded Thorin. Yet, they left a meter of gap with their hesitation. They reached for him then snatched back their skeletal claws. They growled and they howled at each other. They fought for the spot closest to him, but none could clear the gap.

“I hope my gift serves you well.” His ‘mother’s’ breathy voice rang in the woods and overwhelmed their hisses.

Amidst their hubbub, a different spell model kindled around Thorin. It filled the gap with its curves and bends. The more lines it birthed, the brighter its gray glowed. Finally, when it completed the circuit, the world of the forest shattered, and he was back in his room. Before he gathered his thoughts, however, the Archive sent the incandescent words hovering before his eyes. 

[Spell Added: Deathbolt]

[Spell Extracted from the Death Arcana: Ghostcradle]

Thorin took a deep breath and sorted his thoughts while the two sentences faded away. Before dismantling the events of the last few minutes, he took out the bottle of ink and his quill from the trunk and noted down the spell models in the Spellbook while they were fresh in his memory. The spell <Deathbolt> had changed from its basic parent model, enough to warrant its own space. So, he spared it a leaf on the book and jotted down its particulars. Then he worked on <Ghostcradle>. And as he did, as his quill traced its model, his mind wandered to its details that had crammed his head upon its completion. 

It was a spell to capture and employ the ‘Ghosts’. It had carved out a ‘cradle’ in his shadows, that he could vaguely sense when he closed his eyes. It was a small space, void of anything tangible, and was to be the home of the ‘Ghosts’ he subjugated in the future. The ghosts that often visited him when the candles went out could become his tools now.

Thorin sighed and halted his quill. The ink spread on the dot. He owed his ‘mother’ a lot, from his life to his sanity. She would ask for a return on them one day for sure. But for now, he rejoiced with her gift. If he used it well, it could bolster his safety in the upcoming rites. Though still, he wished she gave him a warning before dragging him to her place. 

Let’s try it out.

Ghostcradle!

The spell model ran with his thoughts. It traced its path in his soul space. His vessel witnessed its creation, and then it witnessed its collapse. The first try failed. Thorin noted his mistakes, where he’d stumbled, and tried again. The bad news was that he failed again, but the good news was that he failed at a later stage of the spell model. And so, he tried again and again, and improved with each trial. 

Finally, when he forgot the count of attempts, he succeeded with the last touch. 

Ghostcradle!

The spell’s first aspect grayed his sight and hushed his world. The room lost its colors. The train muted its rhythmic click-clacks. The silence and the lifelessness blared at Thorin. It wasn’t all bleak, however.

Misfortunes of the past became his fortune today. He’d always had some ghosts lingering around him. They never left him alone. And indeed, a green wispy fire hovered in the corner, as they often did in his house. It hesitated to reach him yet didn’t leave his premises. Its flickering shade of forest-green gave some life to the dead domain, as ironic as it was. 

Thorin aimed at it and triggered another aspect of the spell—the subjugation. Though mischievous, the wispy fires were the weakest of the ghosts he’d met. The immediate success of the branding proved it too. 

[Branded: Will-o'-the-wisp]

[Spell proficiency increased.]

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