Forest Arc: Story starts

The forest shook gently as another tremor reverberated across the land, they had become more frequent over the past few years Sven had noticed; Mystics from the capitol had arrived in the nearby city upon discovery that the earth around these parts was rich in dense mana metals and had been using fairly destructive methods to quickly get at the resource and malign them for personal power. Not that it meant anything to Sven, all his life he had been peddling one thing or another, now with those capitol mystics around he at least had a bigger and more prosperous customer base to sell to.

Shifting his bag up a little he better rested it on his shoulder, the burlap sack he carried was showing its wear a little now but it still managed to do the job of holding all of his pebbles. For a living Sven would collect rocks by the lakes or rivers, shiny little trinkets known as mystic gems - while they shone under sunlight and looked pretty they were more practically useful for developing a childs mystic arts. After a certain age they wouldn't work, so parents would spend a lot of money acquiring them for their children early on in life. At least that's what Sven had heard across the bar from hooded patrons known as 'mystics'.

Sven was 18 years old by now and had outgrown the gems usefulness, so instead he would collect them for others and trade them for foods or especially medicine. His job was a fairly dangerous one at that, monsters were in abundance outside of the city gates and if you weren't a Mystic then the best you could muster would be to simply outrun the monsters and medicate any injuries sustained, but never to fight them. Fighting monsters was a Mystics job, civilians knew better than to brandish farming utensils at ravenous beasts after all.

The ground shook with another tremor, but this time a little bit more violently. Sven was getting closer to the city now, stepping out of the treeline he beheld the sight of the cities main gate off into the distance, the walls almost looked golden by the way the sun shone onto them, they stood ten foot tall and circled their way around the entire city in a stark defense against intruders - with which the city had many; from its neighboring cities, from roaming monsters, hell even a few times from riots from external hamlets and towns based outside of the city walls.

Now walking on a dirt road, Sven joined a troupe of village folk looking to pawn their wares just the same as him. Sven knew to be wary of such folk, most were indifferent to him but a few in the past had tried to swindle or outright rob him - sometimes successfully. To such people, stealing from a young'un like him was an easy meal for the day. Despite all of that there was safety in numbers, the guards were less likely to hassle you, if monsters attacked then you were more likely to be one the ones who escaped, necessarily the benefits outweighed the cons.

"What a rough couple of months." One of the peasants complained as he joint carried a choice piece of lumbar with a man behind him. "First they up our taxes and then they offer exemptions to green skins." The man continued, spitting into the dirt as if to annunciate his point. "Why should we have to pay for those pork brained dogs? Aint those Mystics found some mana metal nearby? They should be taking that as our payment!" The men murmured their agreement.

The sentiment around these parts was always that the Mystics were asking too much, they would take from the working class and it would all be given to serve to the Mystics and their thirst for power and hierarchy. And Sven found it hard to disagree with that having had first hand experience dealing with Mystics in selling them his wares, the people he dealt with were always going on about war, about their ability to climb higher in society, about their feats of heroism on the battlefield and how best such achievements could topple that of their rivals in the eyes of the aristocracy.

The troupe came to a stop as they entered the line to get into the city, looking up the queue Sven could see all manners of people, tradesmen and women who were looking to pawn off their daily crafts to the cities merchants and establishments, he could see local garrison members looking to start their morning shift, he could see the no good types looking for a chance of getting into the city like countless of other attempts they had made before, rarely to be let inside. Then there were the Mystics, a group of them dressed fancifully in academy garb strolling past the line like it wasn't even there - and it might as well not have been, given that they were immediately allowed passage at a simple gesture to one of the guards.

It wasn't fair, but if there was anything that growing up in the forest without parents taught you; it was that life indeed wasn't fair.

At the gate Sven could hear a loud and ongoing dispute between two parties, looking up the row Sven watched as a human and an orc had it out in front of the guards, Sven could hear hollering by the guards themselves and could see that they were taking bets on the winner. When the fighting was done Sven saw that the orc was victorious, as the man walked away he was presented with boos and hisses from the humans in the line as the guards led the orc inside the city. All of that just to entertain the guards? Sven didn't like it, but that was life for those not born with a Mystic mark.

Sven never knew why there was such hostility between the races, as far as he was concerned all peoples had the capacity to be either good or bad people, to a kid who grew up in the forests amongst the monsters that prowled the night - all humanoids seemed kindly by comparison.

"Letting him skip the queue as well, if the man hadn't a leg I'd've no doubt the king would demand he have mine taken as a gift for the green bastard." A man in the queue complained as he itched his chin in frustration. Sven wanted to shout at the man, how could he take notice that the orc was already at the front of the queue and had even fought for his right to enter the city - whereas they all missed the fact that a group of mystics had walked up and past all of them to enter the city without so much as a minor delay. Why were they all so blind to the actual double standard?

Time moved on and eventually it was Sven's groups turn to enter the city, the guards jostled him about a little and took one of his pebbles as an 'admission fee' and allowed him to keep moving. It was a small price to enter really, even if it wasn't a lawful thing the guards were doing - they knew they could get away with it as there wasn't really anyone regulating the regulators. If you refused they would simply send you away, and the next time you came they'd demand thrice the 'admission fee' to punish you for interrupting their operation.

Inside the city Sven smelt fresh bread that set his mouth to watering, he'd have to remember to buy himself a loaf on his way out of the city. Looking up the cobbled streets Sven saw the establishment he had business with - an odds and ends sort of shop that he would sell his mystic gems to, walking up the small incline Sven walked past a group of academy students that had just noticed his presence.

"Hah, and where do you think this poor creature is off to Eliad? Carrying his little sack of scraps." One of the Academy student asked, he was a tall teen around his age that had brown-red hair with a pale complexion to his skin, his ears were pointed denoting him as an elf.

"I'd wager that rickety gem shop at the top of the street, off to sell pebbles to plebeians no doubt." The man known as Eliad said; a man of similar features to his friend but with pitch black hair and red eyes. "Go on, give us a jingle to settle this wager of ours." The man continued, Sven grit his teeth as he stared at the group. He shouldn't do this, he definitely shouldn't do thi-

"Piss off Mystics, I'm not your toy to play with." Sven said defiantly, the air seemed to stagnate as the words left his lips, he could feel a bead of sweat form on his brow. The others looked to each other and then back to him before they burst into laughter. Suddenly one of them rushed forward and delivered an enhanced blow to his gut, sending him gasping to the floor and unable to pick himself back up.

"Everyone is ours to play with, vile thing. We were born with this." Eliad said as he lowered his shirt to reveal a tattoo'd mark on his collar bone. "And you were born with nothing." He finished his sentence with a light kick to the face, sending Sven hurting onto his back. "Does it not seen fitting that those born with nothing are treated as if they are nothing? Don't hate me, hate the gods for picking me and not you." the group walked away laughing, Sven lay there as he recovered a little, clutching onto his sack in case he was mugged.

The blow he was hit with wasn't any ordinary blow, it had to be a blow of a Vassal Saint. Mystics like that are very dangerous in close quarters, as their powers come from amplifying their physical body into super human territory. Sven had seen Vassal Saints crush metal with their bare hands, lift giant boulders and run at lightning fast speeds. Out of most armies consisting of Mystics, Vassal Saints are considered to be the premiere vanguard unit with how their magic functions.

Weakly Sven began to pick himself up, he felt like a cannonball had hit him, but he had an appointment to make and wasn't about to start being late now. Eventually Sven arrived at the establishment and made his way inside, the man at the front of shop, lifted his reading glasses and then looked back down at his paper upon recognizing Sven.

"I do hope you have a good bundle to sell me this time, the last batch I was told wasn't up to standard." The man said monotonously, Sven had never liked this one but he always paid up fairly so Sven kept coming back, even if putting up with his attitude wasn't ideal.

"Yeah it's good, plenty of uncommon finds this week." Sven set his bundle down on the table and unraveled it revealing many different colored stones, some were deep red, others black and orange mixed together, some were a dirty yellow and others more various than that. The man nodded his head as he produced a small bag from under the desk and placed it down in front of Sven.

"Good finds this week, the black ones like that are especially popular, find any more like that next week and I'll give you a bonus." The man said disinterestedly as he began to make shooing motions for Sven to leave his store, lest his higher end customers see him doing buisness with a forest brat. Leaving the store and counting his coppers; finding them all in order Sven began to make his way through the city streets on a journey he had made every time he visited.

Before long Sven found himself before the illustrious gates of the blackwood academy, a local Mystic arts military school renowned in the region for its prestige, taking in only the best Mystics the city had to offer. The students who he had a run into earlier were all from this academy, the thought annoyed him but he couldn't help but be awestruck by the establishment and even the grounds themselves, walking alongside one of the walls Sven watched as people trained from within the compound. It looked like a group of them were training their Warding, a special type of ethereal shield that protects against magical attacks, an ability that anyone, mystic or otherwise, was capable of utilizing if they trained hard enough.

Non Mystic soldiers were especially trained in the art as it meant they could somewhat help repel Mystic attacks, or at the very least delay the Mystic until another Mystic arrived to deal with the issue. Then looking to the next class over, Sven saw other students training their Dire ability, a shielding similar to a Ward but for physical damage, an ability that once again anyone could train in. Whilst it was true that non Mystics could train in these two fields, they wouldn't be as adept to learning them as a Mystic could.

While anyone could learn these two skills, the Academy itself was exclusively built to train up Mystics. Sven wanted to learn these two skills, he wanted to be able to deflect the monsters attacks and give him better chances at evading such encounters, but the academy was firm on not accepting the godless among them. Sven had heard the town over had a godless academy where even the unchosen could be trained, but the journey went through the mountain pass which was heavily rife with monsters - you'd needed a guarded transport to pass through such a region, and that would cost silver that Sven simply didn't have.

"And then what." Sven grumbled to himself as he idle-mindedly traced a hand across the fences railing as he walked. "Make myself useful to some army, die for another mans cause, live as a wretched pawn in some greater game?" Sven stopped as he gripped the fence, feeling rage bubble up from within him. "Why should I be born godless yet scum like those elf's get to be chosen?!" Sven squeezed the railing so hard he could feel the grooves dig into his flesh. "Every day they get to do whatever they want, be as free as they choose, yet their choice is to pick on the weak?! What kind of a joke is that, fucking gods!" Sven cursed the very deities themselves and no sooner had the words left his mouth did he feel the wrath.

A bolt of lightning descended from the heavens on a day with no clouds, striking the very fence that Sven was holding and as a consequence Sven's body was coursing with millions of volts of electricity. Screaming, Sven tried to let go but found that his hand wouldn't move, he was stuck as his body was being fried from the inside out. His whole life flashed before his eyes, the days spent running from monsters, hiding amongst the exposed roots of trees, barricading his home from the creatures that would come in the night - all of the times he had spent fleeing from conflict and it sickened him. Then there was visions of his subservience's to others, the elf's, the shopkeeper, the peasants that would steal from him. He felt anger that he had allowed this, he had allowed himself to be taken advantage of for far too long. His mind then focused in on the punch the elf had delivered him, he was reliving it all over again but the pain soon turned to something akin to pleasure, in that moment he had stood up for himself and it had felt good, he was hurting but the pain meant that he had stood up for something, and that in and of itself felt good. A good that overpowered the pain.

The lightning stopped as soon as it had started, Sven stood there as his consciousness faded, but he wouldn't allow himself to fall, if he fell he knew that nothing would change, that he'd revert back to his old ways. He wouldn't fall, and he would allow himself to encapsulate the epiphany he had just experienced and allow it to take control of him. The vision around the corners of his eyes began to fade and soon he was looking into a void of black.