《Mr. Bad Guy》 ALWAYS HAVE BEEN Footsteps echoed through the brightly lit corridor. The high stone arches and gold and red-streaked walls seemed almost endless as a solitary figure walked slowly, carefully, towards one end. "...Master? You called for me?" The small man paused at the edge of the gathering, the hem of his white robe brushing the ground with each hesitant step. He took a deep breath, heart racing as he approached the figure seated on the golden throne, elevated on the plateau. He quickly bowed his head. The Master of Light wasn''t known for his kindness. As the Master motioned for him to stand straight, he couldn''t help but feel... Feeble. The vast expanse of the room turned him into a dwarf, the throne itself towering above him, even touching the ceiling. Somehow, it didn''t make the one sitting on it small - Illusion magic? Whatever it was, the effect was working. "Yes. I did... Lirous." Divinus sat up. The expression on his face was hidden by the ornate helmet he wore at all times. "Are you aware of the council of Villains who directly oppose my rule?" "Yes, Master." Lirous replied, slowly. What did this have to do with them? "Well, Ajax here has kindly alerted us that they''re holding a meeting as we speak. It took a bit of... Encouragement, but we worked it out in the end. Didn''t we, Ajax?" Lirous noticed a man sitting in a separate chair. This one was hardly as stunning as the throne the Master of Light sat on, but it looked nice nonetheless. Strangely enough, the chair was facing away from the rest of the hall. Lirous could only assume that the man on top was staring blankly at the wall. Isn''t Ajax his five-star general? Whatever his title was, he had no response. Sighing, Divinus turned back to Lirous. "Anyway, I believe that this war between us and them has gone on for long enough. Would you be as kind as to prepare the army for a full-scale raid? Oh, and call the other council members. All of them." As politely as Divinus had said it, Lirous knew that the Master held him in very low regard. "Yes, Master." Lirous turned away, hurriedly making his way back from where he came. Satisfied, Divinus turned back to Ajax. "This is what you wanted, isn''t it? An end to this blasted war. No more bloodshed after tonight. Only peace." Ajax didn''t move from his seat. Nor did he reply. Shaking his head, Divinus walked to his former ally. "It''s what you deserve, anyway." Tearing his spear from the mutilated body he had thrown on the chair beside him, he summoned some magic to clean up the guts and blood strewn across the floor, before blasting the tortured corpse in a beam of holy light. The mess was immediately destroyed, leaving only a single hand missed by the spell.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Ignoring it, Divinus left the hall, his heavy, golden armour clanking against the stained red marble floors. He should probably call someone in to get rid of the other bodies. "No, no, no, no!" A figure staggered through yet another stone archway. Behind him, Veles could still hear the shouts and screams of his allies - the voices of the cries were growing fewer by the second. His guards had bought him little time; the spells and swords and spears of the land of Vero''s strongest Heroes had cut through them like wheat to a scythe. God dammit! I should have followed him when I had the chance! He thought, desperately bolting a steel blast door shut. He instantly recoiled as a series of jagged dents appeared on it half a second later. Veles paused to look at the glowing-red marks. At the foot of the door, bolts of unwavering electricity arced, dancing across the stone floor. "Tempest..." He muttered, before shaking his head and continuing down the tunnel. No point. Bit by bit, the archways were growing larger. The light was growing brighter. His exit growing closer. An abrupt tremor, followed by a terrible screeching sound cut off his smile. By now, the shouting was all but gone. He was the last one. The teleportation circle was just ahead of him. Hastily, he sent a bolt of green energy flying towards it, before redirecting it straight down onto the massive sigil. On any other day, he would have scolded a fresh recruit for activating it so crudely, but with the Heroes on his back, he didn''t have much of a choice. Leaping on top, he funnelled his magic power directly into it. The circle grew a brighter, brighter, brighter shade of green until... "No." A sudden blast of yellow energy rocked the courtyard. Veles, despite his best armour spells, slammed into the back wall hard. His face of joy twisted into one of pain as his arm was wrenched into a position the healers could only call ''not ideal''. Veles forced himself into a standing position. Looking through the dust, the last of the green magic was slowly disappearing. In its place was a glowing streak of yellow light. A figure in shining armour. The armoured hero walked toward him. Step. By step. By step. Veles looked at his arm. In another time, he may have been able to fend the Master of Light off... But now? No. Before the attack, he was barely clinging on to the position of Master of Poison. He knew it was a lost cause. Divinus knew it too. Veles couldn''t help but grin. "You''d think the heroes would make a less deceitful attack, huh? The last leader... Well, he was actually nice, for one." Divinus''s response was a savage kick to the stomach. Blood flew from Veles'' mouth to the floor as he slumped back against the wall. Kicking a man when he''s down? They''ve really gone downhill... "With a little donation, your former colleagues were more than happy to help. We saw an opportunity and we took it. Doesn''t matter if it''s ''heroic'' or not. It gets the job done." In the Light Master''s hand, a glowing blade of pure light appeared. He snorted with condescension. "Master of Poison?" spat Divinus. "It''s almost as if you were gunning for Master Null''s position." The other ''heroes'' appeared beside their leader - The bonfire that used to be the library burnt brightly in the background. "Can we get this over with?" said one of the hero''s Fire users. "We still have all the rest of the documents to burn." "Soon," returned Divinus, "after I''m done with him." He charged up the Sunblade with magic, even though it was wholly unnecessary. A strange red light seemed to fill his helmet as he turned on Veles. "The people wouldn''t have believed you anyway." He scoffed. "Corrupt officials? Hypocritical heroes? Heroes are heroes, villains are villains. It will stay that way." Veles looked upon the glowing blade for the last time. "So... We were the good guys?" He coughed. "This whole time?" Divinus looked down. "Always have been." There was a bright flash of light as the sword rose and fell. THREE FIGURES Three figures walked through the decimated town. Ash and flames swirled around them, but with their spells, they didn''t really care. The broken frames and shattered walls of the once-lively town was a stark contrast to how it usually looked - bustling crowds, dozens of street vendors, with merchants, adventurers and charlatans selling their wares. All gone. The whole place was as silent as a desecrated battlefield. The only thing that hinted at a town ever existing here was a fallen sign, reading "WELCOME TO LIGHTFALL!", but even that was swept away as one of the three crushed it under his boot. Brandishing a sort of hand-cannon, the damned juggernaut fired at the skeletal remains of a crumbling house. The projectile faced little resistance as the whole thing fell to dust. "They''re all gone? So fast?" He snorted. "I was hoping for a little action. I hate clean up duty!" He was about to fire off another shot at another house, but a hand stopped him. "Don''t fire when there''s no enemies." Another figure appeared, stepping out of the ash. "You might hit a downed civilian." Her cloak billowed rather ominously in the wind. "Ahaha! We all know the Recovery System in this place is bullcrap! If their house is gone they''re better off dead." The man with the gun pulled away, but he didn''t try to fire again. "You still casting that divination spell?" "Yes. No survivors, as of yet." "As of ever." "Could you two shut up?" A boulder came flying over their head, and landed with a minor shockwave beside them. A moment later, the source of the rock came floating up - a man with several smaller pieces of debris floating around it. "I really hate it when I have to move stuff and listen to you two." "Says the Gravity user who got delegated to Search and Rescue." The man with the gun huffed. "Can''t you two see? This isn''t a rescue mission. This is a body-count job. Let''s just flatten the place and be done with it. Might save the Earth users some energy." In a small flash of light, his gun switched from a hand-cannon to a grenade launcher. "I bought a few scatter bomb shells with me today. Was hopin'' to use them against the damn Villain, but they''ll do just as well in clearing the place out." "Must you always be so brash?" The lady''s eyes glowed blue in the shadow of her cloak as she cast another spell. There might be people alive here. You never know."If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Alive? No civilian can stay alive from an attack from Dracos! Especially now that some shady third-party is backing him." he huffed. "We don''t even know this place was attacked in the first place! No outpost, no heroes, no nothing was here!" The Gravity user turned around. "Guys-" "Oh yeah?" The lady ignored him. "What about Deathend? He was sent running with his polymorphed tail between his legs after the Tier 5''s arrived!" "Hey, stop-" "Oh, you know how rare that is! It was a fluke that they were even in the city at that time-" "STOP!" The hovering man sent a spray of dust across the two bickering people. "I found someone." The two of them stopped to look over in the direction in which their debris-clearer pointed. At first, the fog blocked their view. But upon looking closer, they saw the crumbled remains of another house. In front of it was... The bodies of a family. The diviner quickly leapt forward to take a closer look. There were four: A middle aged man and woman, a younger male, and a small girl, all resting peacefully in the ash. Twirling a spell in her hands, she passed it over the victims - before stopping and hanging her head. "They''re gone." They all paused for a moment. Even the one holding the grenade launcher stopped. "Let''s go." There was no argument. Nodding, the lady pulled the cowl of her cloak over her head, and began to walk away. But just before she could begin the walk back to their base... "Wait." She looked at the runes hovering in front of her. They were glowing yellow, not blue. She turned back to the remains of the house. "There''s someone else." Suddenly invigorated with a tiny spark of hope, they rushed back to the house and began searching. "Don''t blow them up!" Called the gravity user. "Don''t crush them!" Returned the gunslinger. Even with the gravity and divination magic, their progress proved to be painfully slow. But soon enough, throwing away another plank of wood, there appeared a body under the mess. "Found them!" The heroes gathered around the body. It was a teenage boy. But that wasn''t the strangest part. Despite the fact that the entire house had fallen around him, not a single scratch could be seen on his skin. Around him, there wasn''t a single broken stone or trashed block of rubble. Almost as if it was avoiding him. The diviner cast a quick spell, and sighed with relief. "He''s stable, thank God. How on Earth did he survive?" The gunslinger stood up. "I dunno, but he''s got to be the luckiest kid in the world." "So it may seem. Any magic type?" Asked the hovering man. "Let me look..." She cast yet another spell, one for detecting magic, and stopped. The aura of the kid was... Strange. Storm magic? She thought. No, those are quite distinct... Air? But it looks so dark... Ink? No, they''re nearly only in rich places... She cocked her head. "I can''t figure out what type. He''s definitely a magician, but I''ve never seen an aura like this one before. It''s pretty dang weak, too." She took another look, before shaking her head. "Nope." The gunslinger stared incredulously. "What do you mean you ''don''t know''? You have every magic type memorised! You even remember that wet dirt type!" "Mud. And yes, I do. Which makes this even weirder." She got up. "We should take him back to base and run a proper spell on him. Nodding, they collected the strange kid, and walked into the smoke. DELIRIOUS INSANITY Night woke up. ...Where was he? He looked around him. There was darkness. Endless darkness. Almost as if a black wind surrounded him. He looked at himself - he was still wearing his usual clothes. Purple hoodie, black trousers, all the same. Then where the hell was he? He took a few steps in a random direction. Nothing happened. Night took another few steps in a different direction. Nothing happened. Wait, how did he even get here? He thought back. Not like there was much to think back to. He remembered his home, his family... Wasn''t there an explosion? Night screamed out into the darkness. His voice didn''t echo. Just faded out. Like the world didn''t care about him at all. He tried to reason with himself. You can''t just teleport somewhere, he thought, there has to be a process to get to that location. This isn''t a normal place. Is this magic? Has to be. But why? Who would care about a non-magic like me? Who would bother? He stopped. Somewhere in the darkness, there was something else. Walking towards him, before disappearing, before reappearing somewhere else. He peered closer. Something was out there. Something in the shape of a man. Night woke up. ...Where was he? The first thing he heard was the gentle hum of what appeared to be a... Mana Generator? Yes, that was it. A healing type. He read about them during his long times in the school library. Why did he need one? Above him stretched a high stone ceiling. Much too grand for a hospital. He tried to get up. Immediately, he felt a wave of aches and pains wash over him. He hesitated - but ignored it and himself into a sitting position. It wasn''t a pretty scene. Around him lay dozens of rows of beds, identical to his. Through their open curtains, Night could see each carried an injured passenger; A few were propped up and reading books. Some were asleep. Some were crying out in pain as people, presumably healers, rushed and flowed around them. Most were missing a limb. Most were missing two. Seeing him wake up, one of the healers scampered over from one of the other patients and approached him, quickly pulling the hanging white cloth around his bed, obstructing his view. "Oh, uhm, hello! You''re... Night, am I right?" The man looked like a low-skilled healer. Only the cheapest for us. No offence, Night thought, shifting in the bed. "...Yes, that''s me. Do you know where my family is?" The dark spots on the healer''s shirt seemed to grow more prominent. "W-Well, erm, yes! Yes, we do..." He pulled up a series of floating runes in front of him and began searching through them, apparently looking for something. Looking from behind, Night could make out a few words. His name, age... "Why does it say orphan?" He asked quietly. The crappy healer quickly whisked the runes away. "Oh, um, yes! Well you see-" "I thought you said you know where my family is!?" Night didn''t know what to think. Anger? Sadness? Probably both. Yeah, both. Maybe envy? I don''t know. Who knows? Ha, I do! No I don''t. Healers don''t either. Those rich Heroes don''t know. Goddammit. Maybe they do know? Do you know? Is this a bad nightmare? Has to be. When can I wake up? Please wake up.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Well, so, like, um, we know where they are, it''s just that, um..." The healer stammered. "Basically-" "They''re dead?" Not his fault. It''s not his fault. Not his fault. The healer hung his head. "...Yes." Not his fault. Don''t blame him. Don''t- "GET OUT!" Night cried, his dismal screech ringing through the hall. The healer fled, dropping his pen as he went. The hospital, infirmary, whatever, went silent for a minute. And then it recovered and went back to normal, the cries and shouts of people filling it once more. The world really didn''t care about him at all, huh? Days went by. Maybe weeks? Night didn''t really know. Nor did he really care. It was in a dream he slept. It was in a dream he awoke. It was in a dream he ate, before going back to sleep. Really, the only measure of time he had was the subsiding pain - physically - and the healers telling him how his condition was improving. Why are they treating me so well? He thought, staring into the orange of the soup they had placed before him. Part of Night wanted to throw it at something out of a emotion he couldn''t grasp, but he wasn''t going to waste food. His family would be appalled. Normally they get us no-magics walking and throw us out again. It was true. He had seen countless people ushered out, even those missing limbs, while he received celebrity treatment. Hell, they even gave him a councillor. Who was now walking towards him. A god damn councillor?! When everyone outside had to rebuild their barely-holding-together homes with their own two hands!? He wasn''t even that bright. "Hello, Night!" The man wearing a white shirt sat down with a smile on his face. Well practiced. "...Hi." Night didn''t move. "So, how''s things? Are you thinking about the things that I told you?" "Mm-hm." Pulling out a notepad (filled with things completely unrelated to their current situation), the man Night knew as ''Jack'' sighed. "Night, you can''t just want to kill every villain." He shook his head. "Remember, if you kill a killer, the number of killers in the world stays the same." Night turned towards him. "Kill two." "...What?" "Kill two killers." Jack blinked, before coughing. "N-Night, I think you''re missing my point." "You talked about this yesterday, right?" Night cocked his head. "If there are five killers in the room, and you kill one, there will still be five remaining." The man was visibly sweating. "Yes-" "But if you kill those killers too, how many will remain?" "Well..." "How many?" Night pressed ''Jack''. "...One." Satisfied, Night leaned back into the pillow of his bed. "Not so hard, was it?" Stunned, his councillor paused, before clearing his throat and flipping to a different page of his notepad. "Anyway... The results of those scans came in. The ones those heroes who picked you up requested." "..." Night was curious, but didn''t show it. "They say... They say you''re a magician." Night smirked. "Yeah! Of course I am." The councillor didn''t blink. "Wait... For real?" "They say you have a magic type, but they wo- Can''t, tell me what it is." Looking down, ''Jack'' sighed. "Even so, being a magician, with a certified magic type, you have been granted a place at Valour academy." He glanced at Night. "Normally, whether you go or not is up to your parents, but... Yeah." Me? A Magician? Never. Night''s head was left spinning. Is this why they''re treating me so well? Just go outside and help everyone else! Can''t they see all the messed-up shit outside? Stop coddling me and help rebuild someone''s house! Unaware of his thoughts, ''Jack'' continued. "So the responsibility has fallen onto you. Of course, you could refuse, but... Well, it''s highly unrecommended." He stood up. "I''ll leave you to think about you choice." As the footsteps slowly faded away, Night was left sitting, alone. Valour Academy? ...I shouldn''t go. Night swung the cloth off his body. The bandages were still there, but he had enough injuries to know that they had all but healed. Well, mostly. That place is for the rich kids. I don''t even have proper training! But Night knew it could give him something he really, really needed. He had been turning a plan around in his head during the time he had been left in the hospital. It was stupidly dangerous, but he didn''t care. He remembered the moment of the attack clearly now. He remembered the expressions on peoples faces when the dragon''s shadow covered the- No, town in darkness. It was pure... Fear. Terror. With screaming horror soon to follow. Those villains knew nothing but hunger, wiped all life from the outskirts in their search for power. And yet, they remained unsatiated. As for him... They had taken everything from him. Leaving nothing. Nothing but perfect. Hatred. MY WORLDS AFLAME Night walked through the remains of his town. The healers had let him go an hour ago, and he was left to make his way to the only teleportation circle in the town. If they''ve rebuilt it. The damn main city''s magicians always put us on low priority. The damage was worse than he thought. People, mostly family members of those who used to live there, were scattered everywhere, wandering aimlessly, filling the air with a cacophony of names that Night never knew. Now he would never know. They had travelled all this way, perhaps miles, perhaps hundreds of miles, in the hopes of seeing their loved ones... Just for this. Night felt like he was impaled. Am I seriously going to leave them? Like this? He shook his head. I probably can''t do much, but... He knew, if everything went according to plan, that he was going to do more than he ever could by staying and helping. He took a quick detour... Before turning back. He stopped. No, I have to. It would have been flat heresy not to. Grabbing a single rose from one of the remaining stores, Night headed down the side alley he ran down so many times. It felt strange, not being chased by his brother. Though he had hoped a day would come when he could walk down in peace, he severely regretted wishing for such a thing. Hell, he even missed the brawls he and his brother had when the brute caught up to him. Stepping over a fallen tree, he looked at his home. The broken house had already been cleared away by the other townspeople; all that was left was the foundation stone. It''s quiet. The silence is unnerving - usually there was a chorus of chatter or a choir of talk - but now there''s nothing. Like a passing storm without the sound. Walking over, Night noticed the swirling dust by his feet... And the faint but noticeable breeze dragging his hood to the side. The empty air flowing through. The hollow sound of the wind as it slowly moved and churned around him. He knew he shouldn''t be there. Unstable buildings, hidden dangers, all that. But he had to come anyway. Summoning the strength to go closer, he looked down. He had hoped they went peacefully, but the scene suggested otherwise. Old blood stained the ground. Lines and gashes were buried in the stone. Night knew what to expect. It was the same for everyone else in the town. It was just that... Maybe... I wish I could see them one more time. Talk to them. ...Too late for that though. Placing the rose upright in a small patch of dirt, he watched as a solitary tear joined it on the ground. For once, he had trouble thinking about anything. The silence really echoed his own mind. Just... Nothing. Getting up, he looked back for the last time. The blood''s still there. He couldn''t do anything about it.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. But he could do something for everyone else. He walked away, his shoes dragging against the dirt. He thought he heard a child-like voice behind him. But it''s probably just my imagination. "Hey! Night?" Heading towards the teleportation circle, Night saw a familiar man. "Barry?" Laughing, the short but round shopkeeper walked up to him. "Ah, I knew you''d be alright! How are you, anyways?" Barry swept some dust off his own clothes, which seemed much to small for the plump man. "My store''s been, well, y''know. But I''m sure rebuilding will be no problem!" Some distance behind them stood a building, slightly larger than the others. It wasn''t a pretty sight. The windows were shattered, with splintered wood sprayed everywhere across the floor. On the front, the words ''BARRY''S'' was left barely hanging on to the sign, clinging like fresh blood on a wounded man. Volunteers from the other towns were already helping to clean up the mess with buckets and brooms, clearing away the debris, and at the sight of it, Night felt like he had been impaled. "How''d you survive?" Night glanced about. "Isn''t Draco the Villain with the..." "Soul-stealing ability?" Barry shook his head. "Yeah, I got lucky. I was striking a deal with a few merchants out of town when... Well, this happened. God, to think what would happen if those bastards didn''t try and negotiate lower prices." He turned his attention back to Night. "You good?" "Yeah, I''m fine. I''m just... Dropped something off at my place." Night looked at the circle. They would start the spell soon. Barry''s jovial face seemed to melt away. "Yeah. I heard. I''m... Sorry, kid." He looked up. "Is it true? You''re goin'' to Valour?" He asked, in a feeble attempt to change the subject. "Yep." Night glanced at him. The Magicians wanted to start the teleportation spell, and they couldn''t when someone who didn''t pay was in range. "I''m going today, actually." He said, ignoring the glares. "...I see." He took a step forward. "Welp, I shouldn''t hold y''all up. I wish ya luck, wherever you end up." He pat Night on the shoulder. "And don''t fall for any of their mind-games. You''re a good kid, Night." "Thanks. I''ll see you again sometime." As soon as he steeped away, the circle began to glow. Night''s eyes traced the markings etched into the raised plateau, his skin prickling with the palpable sense of magic in the air. He had only been on a circle once, and he barely remembered that experience. It felt strange going alone. He looked back at his town; and looked away. With a final goodbye, Night disappeared with a flash. "Greetings. Yes, I personally made sure that you have nothing else going on at this time." "Calm down, calm down. Just because you''re getting an assignment from the ''big man'' doesn''t mean that you''re one, too. Well, not yet." "Let''s get to the point. This assignment I''m about to give you is not like the others. You can''t talk about it or tell anyone. No, not even your friends. No teachers, either. Except those I say you can talk to." "Hm? Sounds shady? Well, you''re the one who wants this. Want to get a few Credit Points? You''re going to have to do the dirty work. Anyway, as I was saying, you can''t tell anyone. This one''s more of a... Recon assignment." "This year we have more new Hero candidates than ever. Around a hundred, I think? But that''s besides the point." "Out of all of them, almost all of them come from a clan or house or whatever they call those things these days. Those families are getting ruder by the day. Those that don''t come from one of those are usually eliminated, whether by teacher or student. Usually that process is easy." "But there''s going to be a new kid." "His name''s... I forgot. Something like ''darkness'' or something. Anyway, your job will be to... Monitor him. From a distance. You can try to get close if you wish, but either way''s fine. All you have to do is report back to me. I''ll give you his info in a moment, though we don''t have much on him." "Got it? Good. Now go, before anyone starts asking questions." "...Yeah? Why do this?" "That''s none of your business." A WARM-ISH WELCOME Night strolled through the city. He wasn''t going to lie - The Valiant was massive. Beautiful towers and buildings sprawled across the land, and shops ran away into the distance. And these weren''t made of wood. No, rather, they were made of marble of a quality Night didn''t even know existed. Hell, if they used half of the same kind of stone in his own town then maybe it''d still be standing. Even the road he was on was huge. On each side, vendors, merchants and charlatans presented their goods for all the city to see. Heaped upon the stalls, almost as if to boast their wealth, were turkeys, stews, pastries, great joints of meat by the butcher, sausages by the cooks, potions of healing, speed, strength, night vision, and many Night didn''t even know the name of; there were swords, shields, breastplates, leggings, all of which were polished so vigorously that the light seemed to bounce off them like so many scattered mirrors. The stalls were lined with such shining mana-lamps that each one almost looked like a captive star; from every lamp shone a brilliant golden light unlike Night had ever seen before. Night knew he was supposed to be amazed. This was Valiant, after all. The city the Master of Light ruled over. Restraining himself from grabbing something from the unguarded merchants, he made his way to the centre. The deeper he went, the richer the city seemed. Gold and white seemed to fly across the street as the townspeople- No, nobles walked around him. They walked around him in a big circle. Like, really big. But since when did I care about other people''s frowns? Ignoring the looks they sent him, he eventually came across a small building. The words ''VALOUR ACADEMY: CANDIDATE RECEPTION'' were spread across the top, not half as glamorously as the ones that surrounded it. Funnelling into it were teenagers, around his age, all wearing things of different shapes and sizes. Some wore pristine robes and held a obviously-expensive staff in their hand. Others wore simple clothing, wearing nothing but a simple coat as they shuffled inside. Night could see how the two types of people stood apart from each other. Moving to join the queue, he couldn''t help but frown. The building was quite small - Just a little bigger than his former home. But there were so many people going inside. How could they all fit? Were they going underground? From the back, he could see about, what, thirty people? This would probably take a- "Yo! What''s up?" Night spun around. He was about to reach into his coat when- Oh yeah. They took it away. Stupid hospital security guards. Night read the person who had greeted him. He had short blonde hair, fair skin, but not so fair it told everyone they used illusion magic on themselves. A simple brown coat, too thin to hide anything, black trousers, no enchantments... I think. Probably... Just another guy like me? Maybe. He''s too friendly to be from the outskirts, though. He seemed alright. "...Hi." "Hey!" He smiled. "I''ve never seen you around here before. You new to this part of town?" Night had met too many people who pretended to be nice, before stabbing the person they befriended in the back. Those types of people were all too common. "Yeah." Night gave him a small smile. "The name''s Night," he said, extending a hand.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Smiling broadly, the stranger extended his own hand into a lively handshake. "Artis. But most people call me Art." He turned towards the line. "Night''s a name?" "I mean, it''s mine, so, yeah?" Night glanced at him. "Art''s a name? Artis?" "It''s pronounced Ar-Tees, and yes, it is." Art stood on his toes to try and get a better view of the line, but after realising he wasn''t tall enough, gave up. "Anyway... So, you''re also a candidate for Valour?" Night nodded. "Yep. But why are we called ''candidates''? Shouldn''t we be called students?" Art raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you''re definitely new around here." He raised his hands as if to make a gesture, before stopping and putting them down again. "So... You know how Heroes are supposed to be, like, virtuous and brave and all that?" "Yeah." Night looked Art up and down. "That''s the point, right? How we''re different from the Villains?" "Exactly. And the Heroes can''t have..." Art stumbled on his words. "Um... Like, fakers-" "You mean fraudsters?" Night suggested. "Yes! Yeah, that. Anyway, the Heroes don''t want people pretending to be good getting into the academy, using all the resources, before getting kicked out or turning into Villains after graduation." Art continued. "So they implemented a system where they check everyone to make sure they''re all good and stuff. Think of it as a... Alignment check." "Okay..." Night thought. "Wait, how do they do that?" "Oh, basically, they look at your soul." "Alr-" Night stopped. "Hold on. Your soul?" "Yeah!" Art confirmed cheerfully. "Don''t worry, it''s not as bad as you think. They only look at what they have to. They also check out your magic type, while they''re at it." "My soul?" Night stared. "How the hell does that even work?" Art''s eyes widened. "Woah, no swearing!" Night blinked. "...Hell isn''t a swear word." "Don''t say it! And yes, it is!" Art huffed. "Well," Night muttered to himself, "If that''s how you react to hell, I wonder what''ll happen when I say shi-" Art coughed loudly. Whether to avoid the swear-bomb, or for some other reason, Night didn''t know. "You see those totem-statue things over there?" "Hm?" Looking over, Night could see multiple towering, stone statue-like... Things. The shortest of them was just shy of the ceiling. The tallest was, well, sticking out of it, with a special glass dome protruding from the ceiling just to make sure it could fit. Each of them took a different shape. One was a lion, the other was an owl, and a different one was a wizard. Each of them had a pair of glowing gems in their eye sockets, almost as if they were staring at the ''candidates'' who stood beneath them. Night knew he didn''t have to, but he felt compelled to whisper. "So what-" Art shushed him. "Watch." He said, pointing. Night looked as one of the students wearing a red and orange robe-like thing stood beneath one of the statues. One shaped like a dragon. After talking to one of the people stationed behind a booth next to the statue, she turned around. Stepping onto a small platform in front of it, the girl bowed her head, ever so slightly, and stopped. After a few seconds, the platform glowed with a golden light - A disguised teleportation circle, Night thought. A triumphant look spread across her face as in a familiar flash, the girl disappeared. "So... It''s as easy as that?" Night asked. "Look!" Art said, raising a finger. Up ahead, beneath a different statue stood another boy. Night couldn''t get a clear line of sight on the kid, but he could see the boy''s face clear enough. Standing on top of the platform, the boy repeated the same steps as the other girl. But instead of the circle glowing yellow, it glowed red. A look of alarm shot across the boy''s face as he suddenly disappeared in a single, red flash. Night winced. He didn''t know what happened, but it didn''t look good. "...What happened to him?" "He''s either evil or he was thinking something sussy when the statue read him." Art sighed. "Happens to, what, half of all candidates?" Night looked at the line. Almost time. "Where do they end up? Those who fail?" Art thought for a while, before shrugging. "Actually, I have no idea!" His eyes widened as he saw the last person in front of Night walk forward. "Looks like it''s your turn, huh? Well, good luck!" Seeing a spot open up, Night was about to go forward when he stopped for the last time. "Wait, what does ''sussy'' mean?" Art gaped at Night. "You know, sus?" "Yeah, but what does ''sus'' mean?" "...Suspicious?" "Oh, okay." A DARK SOUL Night stepped onto the platform. Soul reading, huh? He looked around. Well, there''s a first time for everything. The shadow of the statue cast him into dim light. The outstretched wings seemed to take up the most room out of all the statues. Night didn''t know if the sculptors had deliberately made the owl-shaped thing intimidating or not, but it certainly was. "You''d think they''d make sure the dumb bird fits in the room, right?" Turning around, Night saw an old lady sitting behind a wooden booth. She looked like she wasn''t having a great day. Her green glasses were pushed to the tip of her long-ish nose, exactly the way Night didn''t like them. She didn''t look like a very old person, yet, but the lines and creases of fatigue were beginning to show on her face. "Um, yeah." Night looked around. Now that he thought about it, the whole place looked pretty... Shabby. "Is this the normal place for this or-" "The usual building is undergoing renovations." She said, in a monotone voice. "Now, are these right?" After waving her hands about in a strange pattern, a series of words and runes appeared in front of her.
NAME: [ERROR]
AGE: [ERROR]
MAGIC TYPE: [ERROR]
SOUL: [PENDING]
I guess they do all their paperwork using magic around here. Or at least, intended to. "Uhm, I think..." Swivelling her chair, she stopped. "Well, that''s just dumb, isn''t it? We just bought a new mana-machine to power this damn thing and it acts up first time?" Muttering in frustration, she pulled out a slip of paper. "Name?" "Night," he said. "Notale." The lady paused. "Notale? Never heard that name around here. Age?" "Fifteen." "Magic type?" She actually looked up for this one. "...Not a clue. But they said they would check, well, later." She sighed. "Candidates these days..." Making a few big motions with her pen, presumably striking things out, she slapped the paper down on the desk beside her. "I''ll get these to the main office ''later''. Now, you were watching the other kids doing their readings, right?" She gave him a sideways look. Night coughed. "Yeah-" "Good. Now, just do what all of those kids did and it''ll be fine." She stopped for a moment. "Unless you''re evil." She shook her head. "Ah, whatever."The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Copying the others, Night bowed his head and looked down. Soul reading? How the hell can I get through this test? I''m no ''pure of heart'' guy that the heroes want. Night blinked. If it can see my past, I''m screwed... The statue sat, alone. What time was it? When was it able to return to the dazzling entrance halls it once knew? Even as a sentient statue, it had forgotten. Sighing internally- Wait, how does one sigh internally? If the statue could shake it''s head, it would have. Right now, it was simply... Tired. Reading candidate after candidate, telling the human opposite it which button to press, it was a energy-intensive process. After a while, everyone''s soul looked the same. Some looked bigger, some smaller, a few were strange colours. But other than these small variations there was little difference. The statue set its glinting eyes upon the next candidate. On the outside, this one looked different, no doubt. No fancy clothing, no clan or family emblem. It would have called this human a vagabond, if an infamous magician had not already taken that name. Bored, it began concentrating it''s energy on the human. It bowed it''s head like the others. Yes or no? Like so many times before, the statue saw it''s vision blur, before... ... What? The owl looked around. Inside the soul, it had an incorporeal form. It was about to move, but it felt... Strange. This soul was entirely dark. Around it, black winds swirled, howling around it. Confused, it tried to fly higher. Normally, the actual contents of a soul only took up half the space in it. Maybe... Maybe this person just likes the colour black? Soon enough, it had flown as high as it could go. Still, inky darkness pervaded the entire place. What in Divinus''s name? The usual areas - Happiness, sadness, anger - They were all gone. There wasn''t anything there. Disturbed, it tried to look for the largest one. Love. Every human had a spark of it, somewhere. Usually at the heart of their soul. Descending, the owl-shaped apparition quickly made its way to the centre. Surely, there had to be something- Oh, Gods. Sure enough, it had found something. At the core of the soul, a massive, broken crystal-like... Thing hovered in place. From the cracks, black mist and fog and smoke flew, spreading to every corner of the soul, supressing, and sometimes, destroying the other emotions. The statue knew what this was. The inverted version of love. Hatred. But this? This was so... Massive. It wasn''t supposed to be this big. Was it really just hatred? Fury? Rage? There wasn''t a strong enough word to describe it. Immediately, the owl started to exit the soulspace, casting magic faster than it had for a long, long time. Before it left, it took one last look at the soul. And it trembled. This human MUST NOT get into Valour! Night waited. Nothing was happening. None of the gems on the statue glimmered. No movement. No change. After a minute or two, Night slowly began to turn around. "Is this..." "Hold on." The old lady grumbled, taking a chunk out of a sandwich she appeared to have produced from nowhere. "Sometimes they take a while." Nodding, Night held his patience. And another minute passed. And another. Just before another could pass, the old lady, wiping her hands on a napkin, tossed a clipboard down. "Alright, maybe this one''s broken." "Broken?" Night looked around. The other people behind him didn''t seem too pleased with the big holdup. "Is that even possible?" "Yeah, happened once before. Pretty damn rare, but I guess you''re a luck sod." Tapping a few buttons on her desk, the words in front of Night changed.
NAME: Night Notale
AGE: 15
MAGIC TYPE: [UNKNOWN]
SOUL: ACCEPTED [MANUAL]
He looked the statue up and down. "So I don''t have to, like, do it again?" The lady rolled her eyes. "Uhm, there''s a big line of people waiting behind you?" She sighed. "Alright, it was nice meetin'' you, and all that." Pulling a sort of lever, she gave Night a half-hearted wave. "Bye bye!" "Hold on!" Night quickly raised a hand as the ring below him began to glow a bright yellow. "Can you find out what magic type I am?" "I have no idea, kiddo!" She said. With the press of one more button, Night was gone in a flash. AN UNDERFUNDED SCHOOL Another stupid teleport. Well, better than walking by foot I guess. Night shook his head. What''s with magicians and teleporting? I mean, I know it''s fast and all, but can''t they make portals where we can see where we''re go- He stared forward. Oh shit. It was massive. No, massive wasn''t the right word. Gargantuan. Before him lay a polished white-stone bridge, shimmering under the sun as it disappeared into the dark crevasses of a pair of looming gates. Did I see those in a postcard before? In the distance, a towering castle rose high, its spires stretching into the sky like antennas to heaven. Each of the five towers loomed large, almost like they refused to let the landscape show it''s own beauty. "You made it!" Spinning around, Night saw Art shooting up off a nearby bench and leaping towards him. "Oh hey!" He made it? Of course he did. He''s definitely not evil. Right? He cleared that thought out of his mind. Nah, he''s not. "What is this place?" He glanced at the edifice. No way that- Art gave him the ''what the heck?'' look. "Mate, that''s Valour!" Night looked at the castle, then to Art, then back at the towering structure. "...Nah." Art threw his hands up. "Yessir! Jeez, being here in person is AWESOME! Y''know, sometimes when I look at massive buildings like this my heart beats really fast for no reason, but it stops really fast so-" Night flicked his gaze toward Art. "You mean palpitations?" Art stared blankly. "Palpa... Yeah! Yeah, that." Night couldn''t move. He had heard about places like these where the super-rich went to study, but he had thought those pictures were just false adverts to get more people to pay up. How much magic did it take to make... "But seriously. What kind of school is big?!" His friend rolled his eyes. "First, it''s an academy. Not a school. Schools are for no-magics. What were you studying at your old-" "Economics." "...What?" Night turned away. "I was studying economics at my old school. Also a bit of literature. And some math. Y''know, regular stuff. But mainly economics." He sighed. "Well, before it got blown up."If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. It took a full ten seconds for Art to process this information and run back to Night, who had walked quite a distance away. "Wait, so you''re telling me, you''ve never studied magic-" "Nope." "What about combat? Surely-" "Nada." "Weapon handling?" Night threw a look at him. "Weapon handling? Doesn''t that fall under combat?" Art rushed in front of him. "So... Y-you''re telling me... You''re going to the most prestigious, competitive, biggest-" He pointed, "Academy in the continent, and you haven''t been in a fight before?" Night flashed a sad smile. "Well, my brother used to beat me up a lot so-" "THAT''S NOT WHAT I MEAN!" Night winced and tilted his head this way and that. "Eh... Effectively, yeah." Art took a deep breath. "Okay... Okay. Well- Yeah, I guess... Maybe you could get away with being a... Scribe? No combat for you, definitely. I mean your magic type... Oh yeah, there''s that too. Hopefully... Perhaps..." Night just stared the whole time. "Are you okay?" I think I broke him. "Yeah! Just thinking." Art shook his head. "Anyway, about your magic type, what did you get? Okay, first, what took you so long?" Art changed his tone. "I saw a massive queue behind the reader you were at." "Well, the statue was..." Night coughed. "Broken." "Broken?" Art gaped. "What d''ya mean ''broken''? They''re literally living things!" "Are they?" After seeing the other''s furious nodding, Night turned around and continued to walk down the endless bridge. I hate it when they make long-ass bridges like this. "Well, it just, um, stopped working." Art threw his hands into the air, opened his mouth, closed his mouth, waved his hands about, before shaking his head and following Night. "Okay. Well, what magic type are you?" Art was beaming. "I''m a creation user!" "Creation?" It was Night''s turn to be perplexed. He paused, confusion knitting his brow as he gazed ahead. A creature soared in the sky, its massive wings rivalling the size of the castle walls themselves. Was it a dragon? He couldn''t tell. The beast danced through the air, spiralling around the towering spires, diving sharply before climbing again in a graceful arc. So... Nobody''s gonna say anything? "It''s self explanatory." Art walked a bit faster to get in front of Night, before walking backwards so he could face the no-magic. "Creation lets you, uh, make things!" Didn''t really answer my question. "Like, what kind of things?" "Y''know, walls, swords, stairs, anything! But the bigger the item, the more energy it takes, obviously." He looked about, before sliding closer to Night. "My parents were kinda expecting this, actually." "Really?" "Yeah! My grandfather was a creation user, my mom''s a creation user, so we kinda figured it would get passed down or something." "So your dad also had magic?" Night wondered. But this doesn''t make any sense! If neither of my parents had magic... How did I get anything? Well don''t know that yet, but... "I mean, neither my parents were-" "What?" Art chuckled. "No, my father doesn''t have magic. He''s a regular guy." "What does he do?" "My dad was a toolmaker!" Art replied. "So anyway, what did you get?" Seems normal enough. Night shrugged. "No idea." "Ha! Ha ha..." Art faltered. "You''re messing with me, right?" "Mm, no, actually. They literally said I have to ask the damn-" Art''s finger shot up. "Language!" "-Teachers what type I am." Art stopped short in front of him. "So let me get this straight." "Yeah?" "No knowledge of magic." "Yeah." "No combat training." "Yeah." "No magic type, yet. And even if you get one, it''s probably something you can''t use to help you because all the other kids here are more experienced than you." Night shrugged. "Well, yeah. But there''s over two hundred documented magic types, and the vast majority are combat-based, or orientated, so maybe I''ll get one that helps me get through this-" "You''re so cooked." "...Yeah."