A Gift is not always a Gift.

Era was the closest thing to Hell on Earth. And Mythal was still reeling from the events of the attack.

What had started as a relatively normal day had quickly transformed into a disaster. Dark wizards had launched an attack on the whole of Era, targeting its citizens, the Rune Knights and the Magic Council. Mythal and Serilda had simply been in town to drop off other brigands that they had come across when the attack had started, each of them splitting off to cover more ground. The ensuing chaos had kept them apart for nearly the entire attack, with each of them having to deal with separate groups of dark mages. By the end, Mythal had incapacitated several higher ranking members of the guild while Serilda had fought and defeated the guild’s leader.

They weren’t alone, of course. Others had jumped in to help out, fighting against the waves of dark wizards. The Rune Knights had acted as quickly as they could but more then ninety percent of their standing forces had been wiped out. Branwen and several of his men had managed to survive but the entirety of the Knights had been reduced to dozens at best. The standing Field Marshall had been assassinated during the attack as well, leaving them with no leader. But the actions of the other wizards had caught the attention of the Magic Council, namely that of Mythal and Serilda. The Voidwalker had been asked to step in and take on the role of the new Field Marshall, with the hope that under her tutelage, a new force would rise to protect the lands of Fiore. Mythal had been asked to come on as a General, quickly fashioned as the leader of the Special Operations division.

But there was so much to do. And even worse was the fact that the Darkness King had no way of getting around without being swarmed. The atmosphere of panic and fear had settled and hero worship had taken over in its insufferable stead. The God Slayer found himself surrounded by men and women constantly, thanking him for his efforts and asking him to help them further in locating survivors. Of course he was not only entitled to seek out possible survivors of the attack but he wanted to -- but he could do so without being worshipped. That’s why he had agreed to the Special Operations branch in the first place; it meant he didn’t need to wear a uniform all the time and he would, hopefully, go more unnoticed as time went on.

Not yet though -- there was still a decent chunk of time before they reached that point. Mythal had resorted to trying to get to the headquarters earlier than normal, thinking that perhaps doing so would allow him avoidance of people. He had thought like an idiot and soon enough, he had a following of clamoring people scrambling behind him as he went. Worse was the fact that the crowd drew more people, causing his path to be continually cut off as he went along.

As angry as he wanted to be about it, he knew lashing out was the worst possible outcome. These people were looking to him with hope, their barely repressed fears hiding just beneath the surface. Demanding privacy would be an insult and would cause the faith they had to flutter away into the wind along with the remaining embers from burning buildings. He simply grumbled internally and did his best to find a suitable way to the headquarters. He had just about reached the Rune Knight training grounds when a sizable crowd had gathered in front of him, blocking off all access. “Ah jeez…” he grumbled, reaching up and scratching the back of his head. Words from all around him echoed in one ear and reverberated out the other.  It wasn’t his intent to ignore them but there was so much noise coming from each and every one of them that it was reduced to simple, unintelligible sound.

Yet somehow a silence settled when a young man stepped out of the crowd. He was a wiry fellow, filled out but certainly not the most intimidating man that ever existed. But there was no denying the determined fire in his eyes as he met the rubies of Mythal’s gaze. He spoke about the news of the attack, talking about Crimson Fang and the nefarious deeds they had done. He then mentioned that he’d heard of Mythal and how he had saved the city. “Kid, I wasn’t the only one that put my life on the line. A whole lotta people died tryin’ to keep those bastards from doin’ more damage,” he said, trying to sound as polite as possible. But still that didn’t keep the kid from dropping to a knee and putting his fist on the ground, practically kneeling in worship before the Darkness King.

This really couldn’t be happening, right? This was almost worse than the incessant crowds. The man proclaimed that he didn’t know if he had the strength to be heroic like Mythal but on his blessing, he wished to join the Rune Knights, so that he could become one of the stalwart protectors of the realm. Mythal glanced around, noticing that all of the crowd had fallen silent at the display. Then others followed suit, falling to their knees and planting themselves before him, pledging themselves to joining the Knights in their hour of need.

Well there was no denying that they needed members. And putting aside the outrageous display of worship that Mythal did not need, they all seemed determined to enroll and become something more than themselves. Mythal looked over each kneeling, bowed head and sighed softly. It wasn’t going to be just as easy as telling them to go to the headquarters to sign up, was it? No, he highly doubted that. “Listen…” he started, craning his neck to look around quickly before he stepped towards the group. “Y’all want to join the Rune Knights? That’s fine by me. Hell knows we need people willin’ to help out now. I’m more than happy to have ya but we gotta take this to the headquarters to make it all official-like.”

“He’s accepted them!” One of the crowd called out, the lead of what became a raucous and vibrant cheer of excitement. Mythal groaned softly, rolling his eyes even as the audience around them chanted and praised the sight. “Stand up, will ya?” he asked the group, gesturing to them. Once they were on their feet, Mythal waved them to follow him, pushing through the crowd and finally breaking past them to head towards the training grounds.  Then he singled the kid out, the one that had started the whole charade. He jabbed a finger at him and summoned him up to walk beside him. “You, what’s your name?

Well this was turning into a far more complicated day than Mythal had anticipated. It was bad enough that he had to deal with the crowd but now these groups of men and women had decided to take a step forward and offer themselves to the Rune Knights in perhaps the most public way possible. If it had been Serilda in this setting, it would have been fine -- she was far better at dealing with these kinds of things. But no, it had been him and now it was also on him to not look like an asshole and accept them. After a wary glance at the cheering crowds, the Rune Knight General summoned the group to follow him towards the headquarters.

Well this would be fun to explain. He wasn’t even in work yet and he already had somehow amassed a group of recruits. Speaking of, he jabbed a finger at the one that had started the whole charade and demanded his name. A quick answer came out; Nohres Xaclamir, because wasn’t that a mouthful? “Quite the show there, Nohres. It might’a been easier to just come to the headquarters and ask to join up but hey, we all gotta do what we gotta do, I guess.” Just because the God Slayer was a more private person who didn’t like showmanship didn’t mean others weren’t.

They rounded a few streets before they came upon the Rune Knight HQ, as ramshackled as it was. Like the rest of the city, the main base of the Knights had suffered heavy damage from the attack and repairs were minimal in comparison to other structures. One of Serilda’s first orders had been getting Era back in place before they took the time to make repairs on anything for the Rune Knights besides the fundamentals. Rebuilding their defenses and looking like they had recovered was far more important than actually being fully replenished after such an attack.

The showman spoke up again, asking what the next step was. He assumed aloud that they couldn’t just be handed an outfit and told to go and find dark wizards on their own. “If only it were that simple,” Mythal grumbled softly. “Unfortunately, we don’t have the resources to be spendin’ jewel on formal ceremonies. And yer not gonna be full fledged Rune Knights right off’the bat either. We’re desperate for people but we still gotta check and make sure yer capable of holdin’ your own should shit hit the fan… again.” Mythal nodded to the gate guard, who opened the way through. The guard gave the General an odd look, as his eyes flicked between the Darkness King and the group following him. “New recruits.”

The courtyard was a mess but it was still in working condition. There were several men and women training with wooden swords and shields nearby, obviously newly recruited to the Knights as well. “Yer gonna be tested on your abilities -- magic use, weapon use, the whole nine yards. We ain’t just lookin’ for people that can swing a sword; we need people that can improvise and master multiple areas. Right now, there’s only two remainin’ groups within the Rune Knights; the Combat Corp and the Special Operations. Combat is more suited for grunt work; security for the Magic Council, guards for the perimeter of Era, soldiers in full blown conflicts, that kinda shit. Spec Ops, which I’m in charge of, is more focused on gathering intelligence, infiltratin’ behind enemy lines and doin’ the secret, shady shit that the rest of the Rune Knights shouldn’t be involved with.” After that brief intro he stopped near the center of the courtyard and turned to face the group. “Go over to the armory and grab a weapon suited for ya. Then pair off and practice hittin’ one another -- ‘cept you, Xaclamir. I’m gonna be your partner.”

Mythal didn’t really know what to expect from this Nohres fellow, despite the spirit that had urged him to offer his services to the Rune Knights. He seemed on the skinnier side and there was a naivete about his look that seemed to hint that he didn’t truly know combat. While the rest of the volunteers were in slightly better or similar shape, there was something about Xaclamir that drew his attention and so when he opted to test them, the Darkness King told the recruit he would be sparring with him. If the reality of his situation had scared him, Nohres didn’t show it outwardly. He moved over to the tables set up with weapons and began searching for something he felt comfortable with.

Mythal walked over to a clear spot of the training grounds and pulled Curse from behind his back, withdrawing the blade and pressing the button to unfold it fully into a sword. Now prepared, he waited patiently as the recruit picked up several weapons before deciding on a hand axe. Once he was armed, Nohres made his way over to the God Slayer, taking his place directly across from him. Mythal looked completely unprepared for an attack, his shoulders slightly slouched and his entire stance reading like he was off guard.

Perhaps that was why Nohres decided to attack first, rushing forward and bringing the axe up on high. Or maybe he was trying to prove his spirit further by not pausing and waiting for Mythal to initiate the match. Whatever the case, it at least showed the kid had spunk. The God Slayer waited patiently until the edge of the weapon came down towards him, only then swinging Curse up to catch the axe right underneath its pointed blade. He held his own weapon firmly, keeping the axe pinned where it was for a moment as he studied the recruit.

“Alright, Xaclamir. What’s your story?” the General asked as he wrenched his sword free and shuffled back a step, putting some distance between himself and Nohres. He began to slowly circle the other man, bobbing the sword back and forth for a moment before he casually swiped it at Nohres, a half-hearted strike meant to test his focus and speed. “Why’re you so hard up for joinin’ the Rune Knights?”