Prologue -
His name was Raymus, and he was only 21. The boy's eyes squinted into the mysterious pool.
"Raymus! Raymus, get over here, boy!" his instructor boomed, a few meters off with a shovel in his sturdy, gloved hands. "We have gems to mine, boy!"
Raymus did not obey, just kept staring into the mesmerising pool. It was blue, and when Raymus dipped his fingertips into it, the liquid felt thick but gritty at the same time. The squinted eyes widened. "Come check this out! I think I've found a different kind of gem!"
The irritated instructor threw his shovel on the ground, the other workers staring over in curiosity. "You five keep working," the brusk man ordered, then made his way over to the boy. "What the hell are you so damn interested in?"
The boy pointed. "This pool. Just look at it!"
The instructor bent over, and dipped his own hand into it, seizing a big clump. An immediate something fell over his gaze. Was it sorrow? Shock? Triumph? He did not say, but something about his instructor's next order, "Come over here, men! Empty your bags! Fill them with this water!" made Raymus grin from ear to ear, and his hands brush together in pride.
Finally, he thought, beaming. I've made him proud. At the instructor's harsh glare, Raymus quit smilng, and ducked his head. The instructor continued to bark. "Don't touch it, men, and women! Careful!"
Raymus suddenly went alert. "Don't touch it? Why?"
The instructor's eyes fell over Raymus's hands. "I see it's too late for you."
Tears welled up within Raymus, an impending sense of dread stirring in the pit of his belly. "What? I-I...did I do something wrong?"
"No. Raymus." The instructor smiled, tears filling in his own eyes as he patted the boy's shoulders. The 21-year-old was confused...bewildered...what was happening? "Raymus, don't you worry. You are perfect, you are, and I mean that."
"Your majesty?" The Boy's hands started to tingle, then sting, then burn. His eyes shot to his own hands, and in horror, he gasped. "They're steaming! Melting away!"
Everyone stared straight at the young man with the boiling hands, their stares matching - fear. "Thank you for having a worthy trial!" the instructor congratulated, smiling. "Sad that you're dying, but hey! You're going down in history!"
"AS WHAT!?"
The others were panicked. "It's eating away at his arms!" "Somebody throw water on him!" "I think it's too late for that!" "But he's just a boy!" The chaos only made the experience more terrifying, more hellish, and the instructor's answer to Raymus's final question did not ease the pain.
"The first test...to victory!"
"BUT YOUR MAJESTY!" And that was all.
His name was Raymus, and he was only 21. The instructor didn't care, but someone did. The man could feel someone watching him intently, an inquisitive stare.
