This...is how life begins. For each and every one of us.
Born into a land that is so simple, so unpredictable, so...underdeveloped. Yet you cannot help but wonder why we were placed here.
Many years back, we had come to this realm to begin a new life, start a new ambition, raise future generations to live up to our potentials. But at the same time, we migrated to this place...to survive.
This land was where we hoped our lives would improve. This realm would help all of us survive and conquer. Which is why mankind had dedicated itself to industrialize and construct our home.
All of us, in every part of every county and every district, have lived for a lifelong eternity in this place that we call home. We are all a part of an industrial city, a wondrous utopia that we have all come to know and love as...the New World Republic.
Together, the officials of the New World Republic have worked hard to ensure that this city would provide the essential necessities for us to live. And because of this, we all had access to education, new jobs, food, health, and most of all, survival.
Everything was peaceful...until the arrival of war, besieged upon us by an army of dark wizards known as the Order of the Dark Netherworld. To make matters worse, it was led by the evil Arch-Mage of the Dark Magicks, a tyrannous maiden named Galatea.
To conquer the destruction of our unified society, Galatea had unleashed the awesome power of the Inferno Diamond, a powerful weapon that could potentially cause the New World Republic to fall into anarchy.
Banding together, the spirits of past Spell Masters, who are all now part of the Rapture, worked to create a magical force in the hopes of saving the city they overlook. Their last hope for survival rested in the hands of the sacred Triad, and the Staff of the Rapture.
Only the Staff of the Rapture, containing the Elmordian moonstone crystal embedded on top of the Angel of the Triad headpiece, could combat the powerful forces of the Inferno Diamond. This powerful staff was wielded by the members of the Rapture, who brought balance to the realm of Dawnhollow. But if the staff fell into the wrong hands, or in this case, under Galatea's control, the New World Republic would collapse.
Thanks to the Staff of the Rapture, the New World Republic was finally at peace. But because Galatea would stop at nothing to destroy our society, the Rapture insisted on passing their magic to a new Spell Master, so the city would at last be safe.
And so, our story begins...
On a dark night, a man was wandering alone in the streets of the city. Nothing on the city streets were lit, except for the iridescent light escaping from the continuous rows of lampposts ahead of him. Standing erect in rows like immobilized soldiers, each lamppost cast off a similar beam of shining light, though the brownish-green glass covering each bulb gave off a musty glow.
Quickly adjusting his glasses, the man took one look at the night sky and sighed. The stars above him cast off an eerily bright glow. But this was not such a time to be stargazing. The man then paused to take off his wide-brimmed top hat. He pulled out a note,which read, "Meet me in dark alley. Is terribly urgent. No time to waste", in thick cursive writing. Tucking the note safely back in the pocket of his trench coat, the man continued walking.
Finally reaching the dark alleys in the back ends of a small curio shop, the man slowly paced toward the back end. Finally reaching the end of his trek, he took one gaze toward a stack of dirty boxes. At last, he spoke. "Fatimah," he spoke, "I have arrived, just like you requested me to do."
From atop the stack of boxes, a shadowed figure pounced off the fence. Though the man could make out her face, she wore a thin veil of jade-green satin. Her clothes were neither torn nor brand-new, but ageless. Her eyes were a piercing stone-gray, and she wore a grin that electrified her entire complexion.
"My dear Thomas," Fatimah replied, with a husky Middle-Eastern accent. "I worried you would not come." "It seemed kind of early for me to dress appropriately," Thomas inquired. Fatimah laughed, but it was only a short, humorless laugh. "Do you have it?" she asked.
Reaching into his coat pocket, Thomas pulled out a crudely small package. "Thomas, my dear, you never cease to amaze me," Fatimah rejoiced for a short period of time. But as she slowly extended her hand toward the package, Thomas stopped her short.
"Not so fast," Thomas said. "First, the crystal." Sighing heavily, Fatimah pulled out a necklace containing a pale blue, almost white, crystal encased in an ovular locket. "There it is," Thomas whispered. "The Elmordian moonstone crystal." Together, they prepared for the exchange.
"Here," Fatimah told Thomas, who admired the locket in her hands. "This should begin to make things right. I journey too far, and seen too much." "I would've never made it this far without your assistance," Thomas assured. "Make sure that you take amulet back to your home safely," Fatimah reminded Thomas. "I will," Thomas replied.
But before they made the exchange, the two heard a noise. Thomas cocked his head forward. "We've got company," he told Fatimah.
While climbing up a pile of bricks, Thomas took out a small metal gear, which then converted itself into a spyglass. Peering through the spyglass, Thomas noticed a group of black, hooded figures creeping slowly through the alleyways.
"Fatimah," Thomas said, "you have to hide." Fatimah gave Thomas one look of despair that sensed her own endangerment. "And you have to leave," she said in reply. "What do you mean?" Thomas questioned. "Go," Fatimah replied. "Run away. Right now."
Soon, without any warning, the hooded figures sprang into attack, leaping out from behind the fences. "Attack them!" shouted the gang leader. Three of the hooded figures then drew up crossbows and fired arrows at the two adults.
Fatimah sensed danger quickly approaching, and without hesitation, shot purple lightning at the gang, hoping to deflect their attack. In a desperate attempt to protect his associate, Thomas pulled out a handgun from his coat. He then pulled the trigger, sending a deafening blast to immobilize the attackers.
Soon after, they ran. They hoped to hide in a safe place to exchange the crystal for the money. But their attackers knew what they had to do to prevent it.
After finally reaching a corner drugstore in the far left corner of the streets, Fatimah turned to face Thomas. She then took out the locket and wrapped it firmly around a cloth.
"Here," Fatimah panted. "You take this. This crystal may be this city's last hope; it will help guide the newest Spell Master." Thomas then grabbed the locket and tucked it safely inside his coat pocket.
After she obtained the package of money from Thomas, Fatimah told him, "Now, you get as far away from here as possible." Then, without warning, Fatimah slowly started to run away. But her last few minutes of freedom were abruptly halted, for the hooded gang caught her just in time.
"Wait!" Thomas shouted. "How will I know if this crystal will once again empower the Triad of Dawnhollow?" "Do not worry!" Fatimah shouted back. "I'll come back for you! I don't know when, but no matter what happens, I'll find you!"
Thomas quickly nodded and ran. But at the same time, he was curious to see what would happen to his friend. He then pursued the gang, hiding under a tall box.
Soon after, the gang members then dragged Fatimah back to the alleyways once again. As they did, they kicked her down, but in a swift manner. Fatimah gave the men a dirty look, but quickly diverted her eyes toward the other direction.
"We've apprehended the suspect, Your Arch-Mage," the tall hooded man said. Soon, the other members all began to kneel down, as if they were expecting an honorable guest.
Suddenly, a puff of black smoke began spreading throughout each direction. Fatimah held her breath. Soon, the smoke began to twist and form different shapes. As the smoke cleared away, it revealed a statuesque woman, with the elongated form of a woman with the mark of high-class. Wearing a tight-fitting corset with a skirt parted down the front line like flaps, she strode toward Fatimah.
"Galatea," Fatimah muttered, "something far worse has taken over your own doin's." Galatea leaned forward and regarded her dismissively. "The Elmordian moonstone crystal," she said, through a thick scarf that covered her mouth. "We know you have it."
"You know," Fatimah said, trying to make light of things, "I can't really understand you with that scarf over your mouth like that." "Search the woman," Galatea ordered. The two guards then patted down Fatimah's cloak and satchel.
"No crystal," one of the guards said. "She doesn't have it with her." "Even it was more worse than the day you called yourself the Arch-Mage of the Dark Magicks," Fatimah said firmly. "And you thought I wouldn't know anything about your little affair with the crystal, eh?" Galatea snickered.
"The new Spell Master will stop you," Fatimah muttered. "Stop me?" Galatea asked. "Have you not noticed that no new Spell Master has reincarnated from the previous one? I'll have you know that this so-called 'protector of the New World Republic' is too weak to even think about defeating a powerful being like myself. Is that clear?"
Just as Fatimah was about to speak, the gang suddenly heard a whistle piercing the air. "Hey!" a heavily thick British voice called out. "Somebody over there?" "We've been spotted," Galatea said. "Move out." "But, Your Arch-Mage," the guard said. "What about the...?" "I said move out!" The guard obeyed, and swiftly, each of the gang members, including Galatea, all disappeared into the shadows.
Fatimah slowly rose to her feet just as a portly English policeman found her in the alley. "'Ere now, wot's all this?" he questioned, a whistle poking out of his bushy mop of mustache. "Nothing, officer," Fatimah told him. "Hmmph," the officer sighed. "I ain't seen this much argy bargy since the Great War, ma'am."
"Right," Fatimah said. "And I probably think you should go now," the officer told Fatimah. "These here streets get awfully dangerous at night." "All right then," Fatimah said. "Good day to you, sir." She then started walking away slowly.
From behind, Thomas sighed with relief. "That was a close one," he whispered. He took out the locket containing the crystal one last time and stared at it. "And hopefully, she won't come running back for this."
As Thomas tucked the locket safely into his coat, he began the commute toward home. Passing by several shops, stores, and a local drugstore marked "Tradesmen," Thomas sighed. It wasn't very easy surviving the city, but it was more dangerous to survive out here at night.
While strolling down the sidewalk, Thomas happened to notice a lorry passing by. He held his thumb up high for the driver to see, and the vehicle stopped to a halt. He then hitched a ride in the cable car, and soon enough, the lorry was off.
After a few minutes of riding the lorry all the way to the far end of town, Thomas signaled for a halt. The vehicle stopped, and as he paid a tip for the driver, Thomas got off. He began walking toward a local tavern and public house, where the sign read "The Tannenbaum Arms". As he entered, he locked the doors shut. Walking past the empty tables and chairs, he made for the back end.
As he entered the back room, he pulled a heavy chain hanging from above. The boilers rumbled to life as the hatch doors opened to reveal a hidden elevator. Thomas then entered, shut the hatch doors, and rode the elevator horizontally through the tunnels.
After an hour and a half, the elevator finally reached its destination. Thomas then exited the elevator hatch to find himself inside his home. He owned a small, Victorian-style beach house by the beach. It was a bit medium-sized, but still big enough to call home.
His footsteps were only light enough to attract the attention of Lisabeth. Lisabeth was a lady from the Desert Sun District, who was employed by Thomas as her caretaker. She had fair black skin, dark brown hair, and despite the darkness with the exception of a small light burning from a gas lamp, she wore a light-blue servant's dress.
"You're late," Lisabeth said, with a nasal tone resonating from her own British accent, mixed with a native roll in her tongue. "I apologize, my dear," Thomas said. "I had a little business to take care of in the city." He then took the moonstone crystal from out of his pocket and walked over to the closet. "I see you had to take care of important business with your associate Fatimah," Lisabeth remarked.
Thomas took out the Staff of the Rapture and placed the crystal atop the Angel of the Triad headpiece. "Well, who else would I have to trust to obtain this crystal?" he asked. He then put the staff back in the closet. Then, he turned to Lisabeth. "Is she asleep?" he asked.
Lisabeth nodded and pointed upstairs. Thomas walked up and found his little daughter's head poking out from under the covers. "I had to obtain the crystal for the sake of my daughter's protection," he said. "I cannot let it fall into the wrong hands."
"But what if Galatea comes back for it?" Lisabeth asked. "For now, it'll be safe here," Thomas said. He patted his daughter's head. "And I promise you," he whispered to her, "nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever come to harm you."
The waves were churning on the shoreline as dawn was about to give way. Inside the house, Lisabeth was busy stirring the oatmeal in a pot that was sitting above a wood-burning stove.
Just as Thomas was about to serve himself his second cup of coffee, he heard the outside bell ring. "I'll get it," he said. He put down his newspaper and strolled toward the door.
As he opened it, he was surprised to find three council members of the spiritual order of the Rapture. "May I help you?" he asked.
"May you be the one whom they call 'Mr. Everson?'" the bearded councilman asked. "Oh yes, that is me," Thomas said. "Please, do come in."
As the council members entered, Thomas and Lisabeth faced them with great confidence. "How may we be of service today?" Thomas asked. "Our consensus has told us that the Rapture has located the new Spell Master," a female council member said. "And it is believed that the location of the new Spell Master is right here in this spot," a council member with a thin face told Thomas.
"Hmm, that is an excellent question," Thomas said. "And you three are correct on your spiritual consensus. As a matter of fact, the Spell Master does, indeed, reside here." Lisabeth turned to Thomas and smiled. "And you three should be happy to know that your search has come to a conclusion," she told the council members.
"Oh really?" the bearded councilman asked. Turning to Thomas, he asked, "And just what makes you so sure that your daughter is 'the one?'" Lisabeth smiled. "Nicolette!" she called. "Please come in here!"
At first, the council members did not notice anyone else coming in. Then, without warning, a sudden flash of lightning blasted right past them! They turned to find a little five-year-old girl bursting through the drapes. This girl had messy black,wore a green nightgown, and above all, she was blind.
"I'm the new Spell Master!" little Nicolette exclaimed. "Stick with it!" She then waved her hands around, creating blue celestial magic. Then, she stomped her foot to summon long, thin blades of grass from underneath the floorboards.
To the council members, this was pretty astonishing. This girl was clearly a natural at summoning and creating magic. Nicolette was capable of using her own powers. But this was only the beginning of her life as the newly found Spell Master.