Legend of Ransera

123 Glade 53rd

Ivar had set foot in the city not too long ago after his airship ride. It’d taken over a day and while he had napped during the trip he did not exactly have good rest because the experience of flying was entirely new to him. He hated every second of it. He liked having full control over his own movement. Every time the wind buffeted the airship he tried to calculate how many blinks he’d have to do to get to the ground, not that he thought that’d be a very good idea.

He felt dread knowing that he was treading into unknown territory. Despite the knot in his stomach, Ivar knew that this journey was necessary. To be a respectable traverser, one must traverse. To stay within the comfort of familiar realms would be to deny the very essence of his chosen path.

Wandering through the streets, Ivar was an outsider in every sense. His steps were tentative and unsure, lacking the confident strides of a man familiar with his surroundings. Yet, he refused to let his unfamiliarity show on his face. His eyes were constantly on the move, scanning the area for any signs of a place where he could rest for the night.

It was clear that things were not quite right in this city. Of course he’d heard vague details of the danger but it didn’t really hit him until he’d arrived. Amidst this chaos, there was a sense of thrill, the feeling of being part of something bigger and more diverse than his usual confines.

He was looking for an inn. One he could stay at for a short while during which he hoped to be able to navigate the slipspace back to Kalzasi. He was going to give himself a week or two to do it and if he couldn’t he would have to pay for another expensive ride back home.

Ivar was in shock as he witnessed the staggering display that had just taken place. The sight of spilled blood was enough to make this danger-averse man panic. He stood frozen as the vampyre made quick work of the two demonic hounds, dispatching them as if it was just another day in the life of a Zaichaer resident.

"That was... incredible."

Ivar found his voice, his eyes wide and filled with a combination of awe and fear. The sheer display of power was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Every fiber of his being wanted to flee, yet he was rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the unbelievable scene that had just unfolded.

Slowly, he found his legs moving of their own accord, carrying him closer to the aftermath of the battle. He felt as though he was walking through a dream, his steps echoing loudly in his ears, the sounds of the city fading away into a dull murmur. He swallowed hard, his hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of his katana. Suddenly, his own sword felt woefully inadequate in his hands. The katana seemed like a mere twig compared to the Blood Thorn.

When he thought the coast was clear, he teleported such that he would appear a few meters in front of the man as he walked back out onto the streets. The dawnstone in his pocket made it so he could still use basic magic. It’d been a necessary purchase for the purposes of his visit.

"Hey there, you okay? Are there... are there more coming?"

His eyes darted back to where the man had come from, half-expecting to see more of the monstrous beasts charging towards them. He’d expected the city to be dangerous, but not THIS dangerous. He was suddenly starting to regret coming here at all.

Ivar followed the man and thought about what to say. He didn’t know if he could trust him but if he had to stick around someone, it’d be the guy with proven combat experience.

"Actually, you're right. I'm a magical student from a college in Kalzasi. My ambition, a bit lofty I confess, is to learn to teleport myself back home as a test of my skills. In my defense, I didn’t think things were this bad. I take it you live here?"

He was instructed to be quiet so he gave a nonchalant shrug, trying to downplay the enormity of the situation here. His thoughts shifted towards the dire state of the city. His sphere of knowledge as an info broker rarely extended outside of Kalzasi. It was easy to see that the city was a mere shell of its past.

He was going to talk some more but he spotted the hounds that he guessed Drey had somehow detected earlier. They were nightmarish creatures, far removed from what he’d expect of a normal animal. As he watched them silently he felt a strange mix of fear and fascination.

He drew his katana as silently as possible but he wasn’t quiet enough. The sound of his unsheathing motion was enough to catch a few of their attention and they stared right at their hiding spot. Ivar gulped and decided to take action.

In an instant, he was standing beside one of the hounds. He slashed at it once, gouging its flank. He hadn’t been strong or skillful enough to immobilize it. He quickly learned that cutting through a hound was nowhere near as simple as cutting through a slime.

He debated slashing again but by this point all the hounds were lunging at him. He swore then blinked up to a balcony on the adjacent building. He looked over to Drey with a puzzled look as if asking what the hell he should do now.

Ivar was absolutely starstruck as he watched Drey brandish his sword and carved through the monstrous entities that had spilled into their world. His movements were fluid, graceful even, making each swing of his blade look like an artful dance of death. An array of platforms materialized under Drey's command, a tactical maneuver that held Ivar's gaze in awe.

This was all so different from what Ivar had seen or learned at school. Not that he hadn’t learned practical uses of magic, but slaying beasts wasn’t exactly a course he was aware of. The stark difference between the application of their skills brought forth a sense of inadequacy in Ivar.

As Drey cut a path through the monstrosities, heading towards the assumed leader of the pack, a sense of urgency overcame Ivar. A realization that he couldn't remain a spectator any longer. His mistakes had caused this chaos, and it was time he took responsibility.

Ivar knew he'd been ordered to stay put but he felt the need to prove that he wasn't worthless. He suppressed his urge to let Drey do literally everything on his own and extended his hand forward. He conjured a portal, a small, one-foot diameter window through space. After a few steps back, he charged forward, his curved blade leading the way, piercing the fabric of space as he thrust it into the portal.

The tip of his sword emerged from a similar ripple in space, right beside the ashen creature. As Ivar roared and pushed with all his might, the blade bit into the creature's flank. Despite his effort, he knew that his physical strength and skill with a blade was limited. His attack was enough to embed the weapon into its body but that’s about it.

With a startled cry, the creature turned, investigating the source of the unexpected attack. In doing so, it yanked Ivar's sword from his grip and disrupted the portal. Ivar held out his hand with the intention of hitching the weapon back to his hand, but it was difficult to do so because it was lodged in a living being. This was yet another thing that Ivar hadn’t been prepared for at school.

Ivar had intended to kill the creature but at least he’d done well to distract it. With any luck Drey would take advantage of the opening. If Drey did end up coming out victorious, Ivar would blink down and yank his sword out of the creature before saying, “sorry about that. This had gone a lot more smoothly in my head. I'm not used to having to use magic offensively... Where'd you learn how to fight like that?”

Everything happened so quickly. One second everything seemed fine, then the next the damn creature was exploding and he was being pulled away with speeds that seemed inhuman. Ivar didn’t think he took a single breath until they stopped at which point he started breathing quite heavily. He just wanted to teleport back home where the only things he had to worry about was submitting his assignments on time and making appointments.

"I'm sorry," Ivar responded, grimacing at the grisly scene they had just escaped. It seemed this instinct had not served him well in this situation. "I was just trying to help. I didn't realize..." He trailed off, glancing back towards the remains of the creatures. It was a fairly gruesome sight even from this distance

Guilt gnawed at his insides, the sensation far sharper than the physical aches that were now making their presence felt. He had thrown himself into a fight he was ill-prepared for, nearly costing not only his own life but also jeopardizing the safety of his unknown savior who certainly didn’t have to save him.

Ivar shook his head, trying to clear the image from his mind. "I still don't understand," he admitted, looking back to Dreyfus. "How did that explosion even happen? You just sort of killed it without even touching it. Almost as if you killed it from the insides..." There was confusion in his eyes, tinged with a hint of fear. “Don’t tell me… you’re a blood mage?”

Ivar's heart sank. Had he only been saved so he could be a meal? His voice quivered, laced with the weight of gratitude and sincerity. "Blood mage or not, you saved my life and I am indebted to you," he confessed, his hands flexing anxiously at his sides. "I can't express enough my gratitude for what you've done. So please, tell me, how can I repay you?" His expression was earnest enough.