‘STRAIGHTEN UP!’ The instructor yelled as Rexford felt like back weaken during press ups. Training was intense. It had been a near month since he enlisted and his body had never been so battered.

  Once in pairs they were both given a sword and shield. He was against his brother. Understandable, they were similar builds. He looked like a skinner, paler version of him. Nearly identical apart from Garrison having brown eyes while he had sharp blue.

  He smirked at the prospect of his first victory. Throwing the dulled blade forward with a blood thirsty yell the weaker one threw up the shield for metal to clang against wood, before a shock of pain staggered him back into the dirt. Clutching his gut the whelp had won- and quickly at that. Anger seared through him before clutching his blade tighter. Moving quicker he put more force into his swing, but his arch was greater and even easier to read, so the opponent blocked each blow with the shield, and waiting for an opening, there were ample, once more smashed the metal into his side. Rexford staggered at the pain, the people in his village near hit that hard. Granted, they were all his friends and probably didn’t wish to hurt him. It was apparent this was all different, he wasn’t home anymore it wasn’t make-believe anymore…

  ‘Don’t hit me!’ A memory flashed behind his eyes. It was Garrison, not much older than seven. Both their builds were so much thinner. They were comparatively tiny.

  ‘It’s a part of the training!’ He pressed.

  ‘But… where’s the evil monologue? Sir Grayson does that big speech.’

  ‘That’s a story. We actually want to fight, not stall!’

  ‘But I don’t.’

  ‘Then monologue. I want to win!’

  ‘Isadora, you’ve got to be faster!’ Veyra instructed as the girl struggled to mix the ingredients quick enough as her tongue mumbled a prayer, instilling the Goddess of War’s aura into the magical plants.

  ‘I’m trying!’ Her voice echoed in a small tunnel in the trading cavern where the two would get the most privacy. Her white hand wrapping were becoming stained with ingredients since she never took them off.

  She kneeled beside her. ‘It’s ok.’

  ‘No- I have to do this!’

  ‘Isa.’ She placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s okay we’ll start with something easier.’ She took the pestle and mortar from the girl. Isadora began to fiddle with her amulet, feeling the smoothness of the gemstone stuck on the other side of the engraved steel. ‘Instead of making potions in combat we’ll start with a different class and learn as slow as you want.’

  ‘… A different class…?’ She felt her temple, the tattoo. She was trapped into the Greater Gods class of fire. If a mage strayed from the class they were given at birth then their tattoo would glow red to alert authorities. Changing classes’ unauthorized meant one mage was learning and growing stronger than the average mage, which meant they would become a threat. It was one of the most dire laws to break. ‘Don’t I have to learn new prayers or rituals?’

  ‘Yes, but it is simply done. Desert magic is … fine. You can change temperature’s, create fires, but it’s quick and dangerous. Ice magic will be an easier start.’ She handed her a small blue sack filled with fresh ingredients. ‘Listen well.’

  She clutched her amulet, the Goddess of Battle. In short, she could use any class learnt in order to be instilled with chaotic power and make dangerous spells. However, if one primarily worships a Lesser God, any spells learnt from Greater God rituals will be weaker. If Isadora learned new arctic powers, their strength would somewhat be diluted from the filter of the Lesser God, but the spells would be more specialized to what she wanted to achieve: lethality. Therefore, the primary spells she would create would be explosive or dangerous snow and ice magic.

  If a mage primarily only worshipped a Greater God their spells would be stronger. Like Humphrey solely worshipping and learning the Arctic God. His spells would be stronger, but more generalized from combat to daily application.

  Lesser Gods are mental constructs, included but neither limited to hunting, with animal tracking, or sailing, with current control. These Lesser’s have existed for a shorter time. Greater Gods belong to concepts already existing and to be found anywhere, like rock or light.

  Humphrey found the correct corridor and approached the empty wall. With a breath he walked through the stone as if it wasn’t there to reveal the study. Only now the dust and mess was removed, a few pillows were added and a filthy window was covered by a curtain.

  Humphrey was learning multiple classes, worshipping multiple Greater Gods. This meant his power with spells wouldn’t be diluted with every God he would believe in, but the time taken to worship all the Gods would gradually increase. This is because he would have to do the rituals for each one individually.

  He picked out a book from the shelf and placed it on a golden book holder in the near centre of the room. He flicked to a spell he was brimming with excitement to use. Spell 2.44- firelight. Learning an entirely new class made his chest flutter it made him grip his staff tighter. The idea of creating a fireball with a wand he made him wake up at four to practice this forbidden magic before classes. He was haggard but holding together. He looked at his own notes, of the spell triangle. Magic required three base powers: a source of strength, his own magical power as well as a few crystals, a conduit, his staff, and a divine source, which would be the God of Flame. He opened another book in devote worship of the God to get a clear image in his mind of what the God would look like. He took a breath. He could do this and slammed his staff against the floor.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He could do this. Rexford gripped the sword tighter as his eyes flickered to the fully armoured man, people had nicknamed him Shadow, but he was the General to The Red King.

  He worshipped no God. A long time ago he would’ve been a great oddity. A ‘Godless’ and shunned and feared by everyone. For what is so evil which lurks in a Godless mind for it to be hidden by every entity? However, nowadays, it was a growing norm as magic became more and more feared by the felden which lacked any major magical abilities.

  He stood on the sidelines of the training grounds, watching in silence like a grim reaper. Rexford was embarrassing himself! Anxiety began to gnaw at him, imagining the Shadow was analysing him at every second for every mistake. His movements became sluggish, until after a swing the opponent hooked his arm, spinning the tired attacker around and kicking him away. Rexford stumbled and felt suddenly sick when he heard a as his head made contact with metal. Thudding onto the ground he saw the Shadow standing over him. In a shock he forced his dizzy self to his feet. ‘Apologises.’ Rexford began, staring into the reflective helmet. The air stiffened. He slowly turned away and picked up his dulled sword, feeling unnerved.

  Isadora, kneeling in the dirt, stared at the potion in front of her, ready to be activated. ‘Will it explode?’

  ‘No, just a simple snowflakes.’

  She stood up and took a few steps back and cleared her throat ‘flistos.’ The mixture shook and spiked up and suddenly exploded into smoke.

  ‘Oh…’ Veyra began and sighed, taking out more ingredients ‘let’s try again.’

  Humphrey gripped his staff tightly, staring above the crystal where the flame would be created. ‘Fosla!’ the staff began to glow an icy blue- but it flickered dead. He sighed and leaned on the wood, letting himself deflate for a second, before snapping back into action. He just had to try again.

  Rexford battered the shield, making the felden stumbled and in a quick flurry almost battered the shield from him! Quickly he went for the first opening he could- his ribs! But they sidestepped him and smashed the shield into his back as he stumbled over, crumbling to the floor. It’s fine. He would try again.

  Isadora, hands stained from ingredients mixed the sixth potion together. ‘Why isn’t this working?!’ She whined.

  ‘It’s a brand new class,’ Veyra reassured ‘potion magic, although it doesn’t seem like it, does still effect the mage. You’re mana is still adjusting.’

  ‘But this is a simple spell… and it’s taking so long… I’m not that good, what if there’s an emergency and I have to learn a new class?! I’m useless!’

  Veyra put a hand on her shoulder. ‘That’s why we’re training now, you’re very young Isadora, and you can’t drag yourself down for things like this because I know you will get better!’

  She wiped away frustrated tears ‘really?’

  ‘Of course!’ She smiled bright. ‘Come on, it’ll work eventually, you must be patient.’

  ‘… But… won’t I use this to… kill? Truly…” Isadora slouched and wiped mud off her face “I’m not eager to use magic to kill, or fight.” Veyra brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, “you may not get a choice in this world.”

  An eerie-ness settled between them. ‘But, not now. Not for a long time. Hopefully, never. I believe you won’t. I haven’t. This is defence, maybe to kill a wild animal or two? But it’s important that you can.’

  With a shaky breath Isadora looked back to the potion ‘… flistos!’ She demanded.

  Humphrey spun his staff as the books movements told him to before his energy fizzled and he fell to his knees. Outraged and exhausted he threw his staff against the wall. Tears welled as he wiped his nose on his sleeve, his eyes drifting to the scattered books. He imagined how hard the authors must have worked on discovering new spells, how impossible his reality was compared to a few hundred years ago. He couldn’t cry, not when it would eventually work! He hurried up and grabbed his staff. He could do it!

  Rexford gripped his sword light on his feet he used precise movements, no longer having the energy for brute force, only to realize his shield opponent was fumbling! He had to do this, his eyes glanced to Shadow HE HAD TO! He hit the shield to create and opening, but instead of going for it he continued to batter them down. Shouting with effort he smashed the shield into the ground, the man undefended!

  Isadora watched the mixture, the colour shifted to blue as the air cooled. ‘It’s…’ Unblinking she watched it take shape- but suddenly turned grey and splashed back into the bowl. ‘DAMN IT!’ She shouted, hitting her temple, the tattoo still black and smashed her foot into the wall, making her nearly lose balance.

  Humphrey could feel the air warm around the staff as hope fluttered and made him feel light. But in a blast of blinding white light the room went pitch black. Blinded, he shuffled around stupidly to relight a candle in the void. He sighed and sat down, feeling haggard and sick.

  Rexford rushed the dulled sword tip into the man’s ribs, but he sidestepped him with new agility. He swung at him again but the man dodge every strike before making it back to his shield and smashed the corner into Rexfords face! Dazed he collapsed to the dirt as hot pain flustered him. A bell rung out- training was over.

  He failed.

  ‘Sorry.’ Garrison offered a hand.

  He forced a smile. ‘Don’t apologise. Well done.’ Rexford took it.