"Solid, liquid and gas," the hooded man knelt in the middle of the empty street, fist pressed to the cobblestone, "elements that permit us life, lend me your strength."
Rows of rich buildings lined the street, ornate street lamps bathing the stone and brick a bright yellow. The ground shuddered under his knuckles, as though the world itself had acknowledged his prayer, and his brazen eyes opened.
Several blocks away, in the main military compound of the capital city, an air of urgent commotion weighed down over the main meeting hall. A squadron of the Royal Guard had been assembled, and presently, a senior officer walked up the stairs to the stage. A wooden board had been put up and an assortment of photographs and maps crossed its length.
"His name is Alastair Grave," the senior officer said, pointing at an image of the hooded man a few streets down, "a former Royal Encaster specialising in demolition techniques. After the Uprising of 341, he turned rogue out of nowhere, claiming that the Royals had a weapon they planned to use to enslave the entire kingdom.
"For his transgressions, he was imprisoned in the Prison District. We didn't know this at the time, but Grave bore the Affinity, and as such, wasn't easy to keep imprisoned. And now he has returned to complete his mission of killing the Royals and unearthing this 'weapon' he seems so convinced exists. Needless to say, we must contain him at all costs."
"Are we really meant to fight someone with the Affinity, sir?" a soldier raised his voice from the array. "Shouldn't you send a more capable person to handle it?"
"Yes," the senior said. "Your objective is to find him and report it. Once you do, we have someone who can deal with it." He swung an open palm towards one of the entrances to the meeting hall, drawing everyone's attention to the young man standing resolutely by the door.
In a dark alleyway somewhere, Grave pressed a fist to the floor and repeated his prayer. As before, the ground shuddered in acknowledgement.
"There he is!"
Two soldiers, pikes in hand, had rounded the corner behind him. The taller one pulled his pike back, intending to hurl it at him. But Grave only had to lift a hand and a brick shot out of the wall next to the soldier's face and into it, snapping his jaw out of its socket. In the split second that the shorter soldier took to register what had happened, the brick flew back around his head and found his face, the force of the collision knocking him into the street behind them.
"Over there!" came a shout from a few blocks down.
"Shit," Grave cursed, realising he'd given his location away. He couldn't stick around to fight as he was already sustaining 5 different spots of Shiji energy around the capital, and it was tiring him fast.
The Royal Guard was easy enough to deal with, but he had to hurry before someone more capable arrived.
"Alastair Grave!"
This voice was much more assertive. Dominating. Grave turned to find the alley occupied by a man—no, a boy, blond, looking 17 or 18—in khaki pants and a blue tunic adorned with the royal emblem in glossy print. A single shortsword hung off his belt.
Grave was quick to react using his brick attack once again, pulling another block out of the wall and commanding it to hit the boy across his jaw. But, instead, the brick curved around him and shattered against the wall on the opposite side.
Grave was taken aback. "What?" he muttered, uncertain as to how the boy had overridden his control of the brick.
"There's no need to cause any trouble," the boy said. "Just hand yourself in and I won't need to hurt you."
Grave burst into laughter. "Boy!" he barked. "Has the Royal Family already used their slave weapon on you? Is this why you seem to foolishly think I am the enemy?"
For a moment, the boy looked confused. But then he spoke.
"There is no weapon, Grave," the boy responded. "You're either delusional or you've been lied to big time."
"Oh, ho ho, no I am not!" Grave spat back. "And no-one told me this either. I found out for myself the truth about this world. Of this kingdom! There is a weapon hidden under the palace, and, any day now, you and that incompetent runt you call a Princess will turn it on, and the whole of Aladeriv will be at your knees."
For a moment, the boy seemed to stumble over his thoughts. There was a moment of belief in his eyes. But he quickly stamped it down. "You're crazy," he said. By this time, the Royal Guard nearby had heard the commotion and now watched the face-off from outside the alleyway, and Grave now stood trapped between them in the alley.
"I know the truth!" Grave barked. "And by the end of tonight, so will the rest of this land, when I raise the very palace from the earth and show the world what's concealed beneath it!"
"Raise from the earth?" the boy echoed, and a murmur rumbled through the Royal Guard.
"For truth!" Grave raised both his hands, "I strike!" and flashed them forwards. The earth and walls beneath and around the boy seemed to melt like liquid and flash towards him. The blond one clapped his palms together and the rushing brick, mortar and stone froze in place, as though afraid to approach him any further.
"Tch," Grave spat. "You!" He thrust a finger at the boy. "You have the Affinity too, don't you? No normal Encaster could resist his command that easily."
A look of sudden apprehension discoloured Grave's face as he absorbed the details of his young opponent. "You. You're him!"
The boy grinned. "Sir Tristan of the Royal Knights, sworn protector to Princess Liara of Aladeriv and Hero of the Uprising of 341," he bowed, "at your service."
"Kid loves his titles," one of the Royal Guard mumbled, unamused.
"Shit," Grave cursed again. He had hoped to not attract more capable enemies than the Royal Guard but had instead encountered the worst possible one.
He wasn't going to win in a fight. But that didn't mean he had to fail his mission.
Grave snapped two fists upwards to his face like a boxer and a wall of earth rose between himself and Tristan. Wasting not a second, he barrelled through the Royal Guard by sweeping the street from under them like a rug and ducked around the corner. By the time Tristan kicked through the wall, the fugitive had vanished.
"He went that way, Sir," a Royal Guard pointed. But Tristan didn't give chase. "Aren't you going after him?"
"He's planning something that won't work if he's defeated," Tristan said. "Which is why he didn't engage me in combat. He's much faster than I am, so giving chase is useless. But it's clear that whatever his plan is, it isn't complete. We need to figure out how to interrupt it."
"He said he was going to raise the palace from the earth," an older Guard replied. "But," he looked at his comrades, "how do you even do that?"
"Encastry gives you command over the three states of matter," Tristan said. "It uses an energy called Shiji to relay your thoughts into the universe. It's almost as if the universe is obeying your will and acting accordingly. But it isn't like a fairytale magic where you say a few words and your wish comes true. You need knowledge of the materials around you and how they behave to properly Encast anything."
"Grave knew a lot about civil engineering," the old Guard said. "Demolition was his speciality. Could that be related to whatever his plan is?"
"He'd certainly know how to take a building apart," Tristan said. "But he said raise from the earth, as if he intended to move the palace into the sky."
"Was that literal?" another Guard chimed in.
"This weapon he thinks exists is supposed to be under the palace," Tristan said. "It would make sense for him to literally raise it from the earth than just . . ." Tristan hesitated for a second as a memory from long ago, from back when he'd joined the Royal Guard, came rushing back to him, "demolish it."
But how? How did he intend to raise an entire palace off the ground? It wasn't like moving a brick. Encastry applied itself to individual objects, and a palace was an incredibly complex structure.
"Have the Royal Guard set up a perimeter around this section of the capital," Tristan commanded. "Ask around to see if anyone had seen Grave's movements before I found him. If you spot him at the perimeter, immediately report him to me. And someone get me all the files you can find on Grave's demolition techniques."
"Yes sir!" came the unified cry.
"Blasted kid," Grave grumbled, having made the prayer for the 12th time, kneeling in the backlot of a coffee shop. At last, he was done.
"Five years ago, I tried to warn everyone about this weapon," he spoke to himself. "And all that achieved was getting me imprisoned. But this time will be different. If I can just show the world what's hidden under the palace, then they would see that I was right, and the Royal family will be overthrown."
He had travelled around the capital, placing Shiji infusions along the way at equal intervals, encircling the palace. All that was left to do was retreat to a safe distance and perform the final step of his plan.
Grave headed towards the next street through the backlot gate, but stopped in his tracks.
This street wasn't empty like the other streets. It was bustling. The Royal Guard had set up metal barricades and were knocking on doors, asking questions. Many drowsied citizens in nightdresses were out in the streets, talking to the armoured soldiers.
"Curse that brat," Grave hissed.
"Nowhere to go, Grave," said Tristan's voice. Like a predator stalking its prey, the boy had showed up behind him for a second time. "I've lived in that palace for the last five years, and never once did I come across any slavery weapon. You're delusional."
"It's not inside the palace, fool. The palace was built on top of it. In order to see it, you would need to uproot the palace from its deepest basement."
"Sightings of your movements suggest that you've travelled a circle around the palace, planting something in the ground every few blocks," Tristan said. "How is it that you plan to raise the entire palace into the sky like you said?"
Grave spread his arms. In response, the ground began to rumble like a brewing earthquake. "It would be better to show you."
Across the capital, windows exploded and buildings snapped in half like cookies as the cobblestone streets split in a single, long jagged crack. Screams and cries of panic arose as people rushed to get out of their houses. Kitchens exploded in billowing balls of fire. The crack in the ground raced forwards, tearing through stone and earth, drawing a circle around the palace, following Grave's footsteps.
Tristan watched in horror as an entire chunk of the capital began rising out of the ground below in front of him, taking Grave and the palace up with it. Power lines snapped, water mains burst. The entire island went dark.
"Concentrated Shiji infusions!" Grave yelled over the rumbling. "I used to knock down buildings by infusing Shiji into its weakest points and releasing them all at once. Turns out, the same method works just as great for scooping out big chunks of land!"
"This is impossible," Tristan shouted up at him. "Shiji is just energy, you can't just infuse it into something."
"You're a good Encaster, boy, I'll give you that," Grave said. The palace continued to rise, now having risen almost a foot out of the earth. "But Encastry isn't just controlling matter. We still don't know its limits. How powerful it truly is. There are uses for Encastry we haven't even dreamed of yet! And if we are enslaved by the Royal family, those discoveries will never be made!"
Tristan had already begun sprinting towards the rising island.
"Which is why I have to show the world the truth!"
In a single leap, Tristan flew towards Grave, driving his knee into the man's gut. Grave came tumbling down, knocking himself unconscious against the rubble of a collapsed building.
But the island kept rising, unaffected by Grave's passing out.
"Sir Tristan!" came a shout. It was a Royal Guard, one among many, who had gotten stuck on the rising palace. "What do we do?"
Tristan looked around frantically, thinking back to the events of the night. Grave had fled without a fight, meaning that he probably needed every single infusion to make his plan work. Which meant that if Tristan dislodged one of them, the island's Shiji supports should completely give away.
Hopefully.
Gathering his thoughts, Tristan focused on the edge of the island and flicked both arms forwards. A sizeable portion of the island's edge exploded outwards and tumbled to the ground below.
And the effect was almost instant. The island's ascent slowed to a halt and Tristan couldn't stop the grin that split his face. By some luck, he had dislodged a part of the island that contained a Shiji infusion.
Within a moment, the island began to sink again, very slowly, back into the earth. Like a sword to a sheath, the chunk of land that had risen out of the ground a minute ago now settled back in right where it had started.
There was a moment of silence where Tristan stood still to catch his breath. And then the Royal Guard and citizens around him burst into a cheer, chanting his name and applauding. Some grabbed their spouses and children in joyous relief and others simply melted to the ground, grateful for being alive.
Tristan chuckled and dropped to his knees, almost in disbelief that his idea had worked, as everyone surrounded him in a frenzy.
Far from the commotion of the capital (or close to it, no-one knew where this was), a single, circular room sat deep underground, fairly large and bare except for a throne propped up against the wall. A single floodlight washed most of the room in white, leaving some of it in black shadow. The light revealed five people standing around an old man on the throne.
"What was that, Hyde?" the old man muttered, looking up at the ceiling.
Of the five, the lanky, tall one with the hat stepped forwards. "It appears that someone tried to raise the Aladeriv palace from the earth, Grandmaster."
The old man chuckled. "Alastair. I knew he'd try to expose the Rift at some point."
"He seems to think it's a weapon for enslaving the kingdom," the only woman in the group remarked, causing the old man to chuckle harder.
"My my," the older man said. "Using the Rift to enslave humans would be such a waste of its power. But I suppose it's good that Grave failed. The public finding out about the Rift would make my goal much more difficult."
"Do we still go ahead with tomorrow's venture, Grandmaster?" the large, muscular man asked.
"Yes, Stonewall," the old man said, all hints of amusement leaving his face. "Get the Flame Tribe ready."
Stonewall, along with his comrades, nodded. "Yes, Grandmaster."
"Tomorrow," the old man continued, "Aladeriv will fall."