The Veil of Creation

Tyrese had a restless night after the events of the previous evening. Maha had stayed to ensure he was well before leaving him to his thoughts, but sleep had offered little reprieve. The strange vision haunted him, its fragments swirling in his mind like shadows that refused to fade.

Now, a new day began as the twin suns rose beyond the horizon, their golden light spilling across the landscape, bathing the streets of Deon in a warm glow. The city buzzed faintly with the sounds of morning—vendors setting up their stalls, children laughing as they darted through narrow alleyways, and the occasional bark of a merchant advertising their goods.

Tyrese's mind, however, was elsewhere. He moved through his morning routine with mechanical precision. His usual training exercises—push-ups, sit-ups, and a set of stretches—did little to ground him. The headache that had plagued him the night before lingered, a dull throb at his temples.

He paused by the small wooden table in his home, sipping a bitter herbal tea. It wasn't as effective as he'd hoped, but it gave him a moment of quiet before the day's tasks. First, he would attend the second day of training at the Church. Afterward, he planned to visit the marketplace to purchase groceries and herbs for a stronger mind-calming infusion.

By the time Tyrese stepped outside, the twin suns were high in the sky. Their brilliance felt particularly intense today, or perhaps it was just his unsettled state of mind. He squinted against the light as he walked through the bustling streets, nodding absently to familiar faces. Everything around him seemed sharper, more vivid, as though his senses had been heightened since the strange vision.

When he arrived at the Church, the training hall was already lively. Maha stood near the far wall, chatting quietly with another trainee. Most of the others had already arrived, their presence filling the room with hushed anticipation. Tyrese frowned. He had thought himself early, yet it seemed the others had beaten him. Still, at least he wasn't late.

Sir Arras stood at the front of the hall, his imposing figure framed by the high arched windows that let in streams of sunlight. He waited silently, his piercing gaze sweeping over the trainees as the last few filed in. The room fell quiet.

"Good morning, trainees," he said, his voice carrying effortlessly through the hall. "I trust you are well and have reflected on yesterday's lesson."

A ripple of nods passed through the group, though a few trainees exchanged uncertain glances. Satisfied, Sir Arras continued.

"Yesterday, you crafted your first sigil. Today, we move forward. We will discuss the steps to becoming a Will holder and the challenges you will face in this life."

He began to pace, his boots echoing faintly on the polished stone floor. "As I've said, there are three main types of Will holders: Will Sorcerers, Will Warriors, and Diviners. Each serves a distinct purpose, but the strength of the first two is measured by two critical factors.

"First, your Willpower. This determines how many sigils you can sustain at once, as well as their complexity. While sigils are shaped by Will and Intent, that does not mean anyone can become powerful simply by drawing a sigil. The more a sigil conflicts with the World's Will, the more Willpower it requires to draw and activate. And the more intricate a sigil's purpose, the greater clarity of mind the user must have to wield it effectively."

He paused, his gaze lingering on a few trainees. Tyrese felt his stomach twist as those sharp eyes seemed to land on him for a moment.

"Second, the strength of a Will holder is measured by what tier of Rodrak they can defeat in combat."

Sir Arras stopped at the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. The silence was palpable as the trainees hung on his every word.

"Rodraks are classified into nine tiers, each representing a greater threat. Let me explain:

Seedlings – Tier one. These are variants of the Rodraks, much smaller than the adults, no taller than a cow. They lack elemental or cursed tongue abilities but remain dangerous. They are the easiest to defeat.

Young Ones – Tier two. These are evolved Seedlings with twice, sometimes thrice the physical might. They grow stronger with each kill, their madness and ferocity increasing over time.

Shifters – Tier three. These have thin, agile wings, granting them exceptional speed. Though physically weaker, their curse tongue can influence emotions, driving their targets to madness and death.

Flamebearers – Tier four. Considered adult Rodraks, they stand three meters tall on average. Their fiery eyes hint at their elemental affinity, allowing them to control and unleash fire with devastating precision.

Whisperers – Tier five. These Rodraks have no elemental capabilities but possess a far more insidious curse tongue. Their victims experience severe emotional changes, hallucinations, and even mass suicides. Powerful Whisperers can bypass mental barrier sigils, luring targets into illusions or outright mind control.

Stormbearers – Tier six. Sharing the Whisperers' stature, Stormbearers wield multiple elemental abilities—fire, wind, lightning, sound, and more. Their versatility makes them deadly opponents.

Voidbringers – Tier seven. These are accompanied by a swirling mass of darkness, capable of manipulating shadows and absorbing light. Contrary to popular belief, light does not weaken them—it nourishes them. Their curse tongue creates debilitating effects, such as weakness, dread, or silence.

Kings (Calamities) – Tier eight. These ancient Rodraks appear aged, like elders. They stand over six meters tall and wield a mastery of magic, from elemental manipulation to gravity control. Their cursed tongue and mind control can decimate armies. They command legions of lesser Rodraks, from Seedlings to Whisperers. Their roar alone can shatter the resolve of weaker Will holders, killing them outright.

Sovereigns – Tier nine. These are the embodiment of all previous tiers combined. Sovereigns are so powerful it is said they can wield something akin to Will itself, bending reality to their desires. Only two have appeared in recorded history, and both times, humanity teetered on the brink of extinction."

He let his words hang in the air, the weight of their meaning pressing down on the room like a physical force.

"This is the scale of the enemy we face," Sir Arras said, his voice quieter but no less commanding. "As Will holders, it is your duty to rise to this challenge. Remember: the strength of your Will, the clarity of your Intent, and your resolve will determine your survival—and that of mankind."

The trainees remained silent, their faces pale and solemn. Tyrese clenched his fists, a chill running down his spine. He could feel the enormity of what lay ahead, the weight of expectations pressing heavily on his shoulders.