[Twenty-five years prior]
Before the name "Voltair Serdin" carried the authority of a Duke's seal, Frostpeak existed only as a northern keep situated between the kingdom and the endless wastes. The land itself was unforgiving, a frontier perpetually challenged by the harsh environment and the savage creatures that roamed the icy mountains.
At that period, Voltair served as a frontline mage under the royal command of the mighty Zephirion Empire, located west of Falconridge. The Empire controlled Frostpeak and other vast territories within the continent.
Voltair, as a serviceman, was stationed on the northern border, and Zephirion had been entangled in some conflict against several of the northern tribes for a considerable duration. The war had entered its third year, and cohesion across the army was dissolving under the strain of continuous conflict and the brutal climate. That was when the catalyst arrived.
A man, clad in a deep gray mantle, reached the front lines one evening, possessing nothing but normal clothes.
His designation was Kael Ardyn, although few dared pronounce it. Reports moved quicker than flame: he was credited with reducing an entire battleground to ash with a singular spell. His reputation preceded him like a scorching wind.
Voltair could still, after 25 years, recall their first meeting--The defense lines crackled under the open, snow-laden sky as Kael observed the northern defenses. His eyes were acute, meticulous, and utterly placid. like a person who had witnessed too much to retain astonishment or fright. Voltair could sense the sheer magnitude of the man's power simply radiating from his posture. Voltair never approached Kael. To be clear, he was simply 'held back' by the man's formidable aura.
Even with all his years of experience, Voltair felt reduced to a child before him, unwilling to step into the presence of such unshakable mastery. Yet that awe soon turned into a hard-earned respect.
In the weeks that followed, the two fought side by side through siege after siege, and Voltair came to witness Kael's command of magic in its truest form--a level of control and devastation beyond anything he had ever imagined.
He did not bellow spells or gesticulate wildly. He merely spoke, and reality complied.
His authority, however, possessed an inherent darkness. Kael never revealed his origins or what his intention was towards helping the Zephirion Empire. Even when the Royal Council of Zephirion requested records, his responses were brief and approached insolence. He guarded his history fiercely, allowing no one past the professional barrier he maintained.
As the war persisted, Kael and Voltair cultivated an unspoken alliance. It was a trust forged in mutual bloodshed and countless sleepless watches. They recognized each other's competence in battle, forming an unbreakable, silent reliance. Kael often criticized Voltair's hastiness, labeling him rash, while Voltair accused Kael of emotional detachment. In truth, they provided each other's counterweight. Voltair's fire was cooled by Kael's ice, and Kael's detachment was warmed by Voltair's passion.
Then, arrived the Battle of Coldveil Ridge, a contested area bordering Frostpeak.
It was intended to be a routine defensive position. However, the royal commanders severely miscalculated the enemy's numbers. When the clash began, the odds seemed overwhelmingly lopsided in the Empire's favor, fostering dangerous overconfidence. The commanders grew overly confident and relaxed their readiness, and that was the exact moment the tribal chieftains had been anticipating. Suddenly, the encounter inverted.
Strange creatures began emerging from all directions, completely encircling the battlefield. These were not typical monsters; they were corrupted entities, influenced by 'Dark Magic': a proscribed elemental power, foul and destructive.
Kael had foreseen this. He advised the generals to withdraw instead, recognizing the spiritual malignancy driving the new assault, but they disregarded him. They had already tasted the sensation of conquest and were blinded by it. Their pride cost them dearly.
In the next sixty minutes, the royal army lost almost one-third of its forces. Voltair, then a recently elevated archmage, attempted to secure the center with Kael, but the formation had already fractured, and the enemy numbers overwhelmingly outnumbered theirs.
The screams of the wounded mingled with the monstrous roars as chaos overtook the ranks.
In that turmoil, facing total annihilation, Kael made a choice that would subsequently define him as a betrayer.
He unleashed a spell, one formerly forbidden by the Royal Council of Zephirion for its indiscriminately devastating effects.
The spell depleted almost the entirety of his mana and utterly ravaged everything in his vicinity. The resulting blast halted the beasts, yet it also consumed hundreds of soldiers caught too near the epicenter. The royal ensigns burned alongside them.
Voltair, who was the closest to Kael, somehow survived.
He saw Kael's desperate act as a heroic one--to shield the countless lives within the Empire's borders--the farmers, the children, the families who would never even know his name. Every ounce of power Kael unleashed was a plea to spare them from the horrors that had already consumed so many.
But, when the smoke cleared, Kael had already departed. He had vanished into the haze, nowhere to be seen.
Search parties scoured every province of the Empire, yet not a single trace of him was ever found.
Later, the Council labeled the act treason. The Emperor ordered his apprehension, furious at the loss of men and the disregard for imperial law.
Even though Kael had disappeared into the northern wilds, he had left behind a single inscription crafted in mana script. A message meant only for Voltair.
The message read: 'The world requires equilibrium. Power and mercy must never stand apart, for one without the other breeds ruin. When you find order giving way to chaos, summon me, and I shall guide you through that storm. Till then, stand firm--as a man who still holds to conviction.'
Accompanying the message was a diminutive spherical crystal. A Mana Transmitter. An artifact capable of linking two mages, irrespective of distance, location, or time.
Its usage was restricted to a single activation, compelling Voltair to keep it concealed ever since. It was a deep secret unknown even to his most trusted comrades.
Years elapsed. Voltair received the territory of Frostpeak and the title of Duke for his 'courageous' deeds during the war.
He reconstructed Frostpeak, transforming it into a formidable Duchy, and ascended to power, shouldering the burden of responsibility, family, and an unstated obligation to the authentic hero. Throughout his life, Voltair frequently wondered about Kael's fate. Whether he lived as a recluse, a combatant for hire, or had simply dissolved into myth, becoming one with the emptiness of the world.
However, deep within, he knew Kael survived.
--
[The Present]
Now, as Voltair sat in the subdued radiance of his study, grasping that same crystal after two decades of non-communication. The crystal felt warm against his palm, a relic from a harsher, simpler time.
The surface shone dimly as Voltair channeled mana into it, initiating the link. The room momentarily filled with a scent like ozone and mountain air.
A moment later, a weary yet recognizable voice spoke, as composed as ever. The sound felt alien in the Duke's refined study.
'Voltair. You would not initiate contact unless something required attention.'
The Duke exhaled slowly, the decades separating them vanishing instantly.
'It concerns my eldest son, Richard,' he stated.
Kael lapsed into a protracted quiet. The sheer cost of using the device must have been apparent. Only the faint thrumming of the mana crystal pervaded the atmosphere between them.
'…Your son?' he ultimately uttered, his voice level but imbued with disbelief. 'You expended the transmitter for that?'
Voltair's demeanor did not waver. 'It was not a decision I treated lightly. His future depends on this.'
Kael let out a soft chuckle, devoid of amusement. 'That crystal was reserved for a higher purpose, Voltair. We both understood that.'
'Perhaps,' Voltair replied. 'But you also declared I would recognize the suitable moment.'
Kael sighed. 'I perceive you have not altered at all.'
Voltair reclined in his chair. The candle nearby shimmered and its illumination mirrored in the orb's glow. 'You spoke of equilibrium, Kael. That everything in this reality possesses corresponding worth. My son shoulders too much of it.'
Kael's voice took on a serious tone. 'Elaborate.'
'He endured an incident that should have ended his life,' Voltair said quietly. 'A Gorefang assault. He propelled himself past human constraints and utilized Fifth-Circle magic in a body that can barely sustain the Fourth. He survived, but his mana feels different for some reason.' The Duke detailed the reports he had received from Elwin.
Kael remained attentive, absorbing the full implication of Fifth-Circle usage on a fourteen-year-old.
'It's dense. Coiled.' Voltair proceeded. 'When he is conscious, the very air around him shifts. I have never observed a phenomenon such as this.'
Kael was absorbed in thought. The description was unlike any known magical side effect. Then he stated, 'And what do you deduce this signifies?'
Voltair's jaw firmed. 'It signifies he is either favored or afflicted.'
Kael emitted a reflective hum. 'You consistently viewed matters in absolutes. That remains unchanged.'
Voltair's lips curved faintly. 'And you consistently enjoyed speaking cryptically.'
This provoked a soft laugh from Kael. 'Established practices persist.'
The brief amiability between them was transient. Kael's voice grew serious once more, returning to the core demand. 'So you desire me to guide him. To assume mentorship of the boy.'
Voltair did not contradict this. 'He is brilliant. He possesses the same obstinance I possessed once. I fear that without fitting guidance, his capacity will obliterate him. Or worse, everything within his reach.'
Another prolonged silence ensued. The orb's luminosity began to waiver, indicating the attenuation of the mana connection as the single-use power waned.
Kael ultimately spoke. 'You comprehend this link cannot be reestablished. When I terminate it, the orb will fragment. You will be unable to hear from me again.'
Voltair inclined his head. 'I know.'
'Then why employ it now?' Kael inquired. 'Why not await the point when the boy is truly beyond your intervention?'
Voltair's focus drifted afar. 'Because if I delay until that moment, remediation will be impossible.' The Duke understood the fragility of Richard's recovery.
Kael was satisfied.
Voltair could practically visualize the faint expression of amusement that invariably preceded Kael reaching a conclusion.
'…You were consistently an awful risk-taker,' Kael muttered. 'But accepted. I shall attend.'
Voltair's eyebrows raised. 'With such facility?'
'You extended your belief when all others withheld theirs,' Kael replied, acknowledging the debt between them. 'And furthermore…' A light sound of amusement escaped him. 'I am curious. You asserted he is your son. Let us observe the kind of youth a man such as you cultivated.'
The azure crystal erupted once. Bright enough to illuminate the chamber in white light.
Then it fractured.
A slender fissure traversed the crystal's center before it disintegrated entirely, dispersing small motes of mana into the air. The radiance vanished instantly, leaving behind only stillness and the odour of burned ozone.
Voltair stared at the remnants for an extended period.
He deposited the fragments gently into a velvet-lined casket, securing it with a barely audible action.
'…Then appear, old companion,' he murmured. 'Let us ascertain if you still uphold your commitments.' The duty of waiting was now his alone.
Outside, a snowstorm had begun to escalate over Frostpeak. The wind howled softly, carrying with it the echo of a long-forgotten power reawakening.
And far in the distance a solitary form stood at the edge of an unidentified precipice,. His mantle billowed against the sharp wind.
The man smiled faintly. 'So, he finally made his decision.'
He turned, descending the crag. 'Then it is time I encountered this Richard of Frostpeak.'
--