A/N: Ahh...the smell of a new story. Prayer of Mana is titled after the picture that gave me the inspiration to write this. I hope you enjoy, and please note that I will be putting a warning in a later chapter for some controversial issues. Otherwise, happy reading!
Prayer of Mana
Chapter 1
Heath entered the tavern hesitantly, bringing some of the snowdrift in with him. His satin cloak and robes didn't provide enough protection against the harsh winter storm. Then again, Jad wasn't exactly known for its blizzards, if it even had had any in the past to be known about. The young mage shook the flurries from his hair and clothes and strode farther into the bar.
There was a large crowd of people inside tonight, probably escaping the cold to warm up with a few drinks. A few Forcenan soldiers sang a rough-sounding tavern ballad, a few pints of ale obviously already seeping through their brains. A Beastman sat in the corner of the bar, steadily nipping at several shots of whiskey. Heath wrinkled his nose; he had always hated the smell of fermented grain. He approached the bar uneasily, weary from his travel. The bartender noticed him quickly.
"Hey there, looks like you definitely need something to warm you up!" he spoke calmly, despite all of the chaos about them. Heath smiled.
"...Just...only a cup of peppermint tea..." he mumbled quietly. The bartender nodded, disappeared amongst his fellow waiters, and then returned with a steaming cup of herbal brew.
"...Thanks." Heath muttered and gave the bartender his due. He slipped away and began to look for a table that wasn't overloaded with drunks, assassins, or prostitutes.
"Well....look who's here."
Heath jumped slightly, nearly spilling his tea. He had been nearing the corner of the tavern when he heard the voice. He turned around to find a woman draped in desert wear: a skimpy leather corset, a ruffled skirt, a long striped shawl, a feathered hat, and a smoking pipe in her fingers. The kind of pipe used only by noble men and women...or people of great power.
"Bigieu? What are you doing here?" Heath asked, and reluctantly sat down in the chair she had drawn for him. Bigieu flipped her tangerine hair back behind her shoulder and looked at Heath with tired green eyes.
"...It's a long story," she drawled, taking a deep breath from her pipe and letting out the smoke, poisoning the air. "Let's just say I'm having some...complications with my occupation." Heath's heart jumped. Was she having the same problems as him?
"Pretty much the same here...I couldn't take too much more of the Deathjester's laugh. He stays up until the wee hours just laughing. I think he's obsessive compulsive or something." The Mage snickered, and Bigieu snorted out smoke. Uneasiness settled in and the two sat in silence for a while.
"...What about Jagan?" Heath questioned.
"He's a pain in the ass. Let's leave it at that, I hate his guts." Bigieu growled, suddenly turning a bright shade of magenta. Heath let the subject drop and sipped his tea.
Suddenly, a cry from one of the prostitutes cut through the air as she pointed at a window. As if this was some sort of code, the tavern went completely still and silent. All watched the door, except for Bigieu and Heath, who looked at each other in puzzlement. A bouncer gulped and started for the door, obviously aiming to block whoever was trying to enter, but as he approached the doorway an unseen hand grabbed him by the neck and threw him against the wall. He stood there, pinned, as his target entered the room, and an involuntary shudder rippled through the bar. So did the whispers.
"It's him."
"I've heard stories of entire families being cursed..."
"Look at what he's wearing..."
"Look at the bouncer, he can't move!"
"It's really the Crimson Wizard..."
Heath's head shot up at the mention of that name. Slowly, the intruder emerged from the crowd and into Heath's view; his black clothing making no sound as he walked, but the jangle from his bangles and earrings contrasted with the swish of his cape.
Koren.
He approached the bar slowly, all eyes upon him. Bigieu shrugged slightly, turned away, and puffed on her pipe. Heath sank down farther into his seat, turning the same color as the opposite mage's attire. When the wizard finally reached the bar, the same waiter who served Heath stepped abruptly to him.
"...The usual." Koren muttered darkly, and within five seconds the bartender brought his order back: a glass of water, and three small, green pills. Koren picked up the glass and medicine and walked over towards the corner where Heath slouched and Bigieu puffed. He stopped and turned his head to the struggling bouncer, who was turning blue. He shrugged and the invisible hand let go of the guard's neck, leaving him gasping for air. Gradually, the room picked up volume again.
Koren pulled his own chair and sat down at the table opposite of Bigieu. The Sorceress blinked at him and blew a smoke ring into his face. He smirked.
"You know those things will kill you eventually." He spoke, his voice a steady alto soprano with a hint of sarcasm. Bigieu smiled.
"I take my chances, Lotus Magician, unlike you who could never down a tankard of any poison these fools drink." She hissed.
"Exactly. That stuff is only for the fools. I'd rather not rot my mind with such a terrible thing." He shrugged, wetting his finger and tracing the rim of his glass with it. If there wasn't so much noise, they probably could hear it ring. "So I settle for my own poison."
"Dragon Fang pills," the witch identified, shifting her position and looking upon the small green tablets, "a potent anti-depressant. Don't you know those things will kill you eventually?" she mocked.
"I take my chances, she-wolf." The sorcerer grinned and picked up his glass and all three of the pills. He downed them quickly, without regret, and set his glass back down. He sighed and finally took notice of his fellow magician.
"And what are YOU doing here, Mirage Mage? I always thought someone like you would stay away from dingy places such as this." Koren said, but his voice was not as harsh as it had been with Bigieu. Heath sat up more and looked Koren in the eye.
"I had some difficulties back at the Palace, what's the big deal? It's not like we see people like you, Mr. High-and-mighty, in dim bars taking in poison pills everyday." Heath taunted, smiling slightly. Koren shrugged the comment off.
"I got tired of listening to them bitch to me all day. You know, the Queen, the Emperor....the Darkshine Knight even! I'm sick of taking orders, so I told the Emperor I'd be out for a while, and left before he could put his opinion in. Like he cares." He retorted, brushing some of his golden hair behind his ear to reveal three rings and a stud dotting his lobe. Heath looked into his cup and smiled; those earrings were a definite turn-on. Perhaps that's why the soldiers liked him so much.
"Looks like we're all here for the same reason then," Bigieu concluded, and put out her pipe, "Tired of taking orders. You know, I have a ton of ideas that are better than my Lord's....don't get me wrong, I highly honor him but..."
"Don't start. We know you fancy him so just shut up and quit while you're ahead." Koren snapped sharply. Heath figured anger could be a short term side-affect of Dragon Fang pills. Bigieu pouted and turned away.
"I was just saying. And anyway, he wouldn't listen to my ideas..."
"Or mine." Heath and Koren looked at each other after speaking the same line. Koren huffed.
"Oh this is ridiculous! I don't know why I came here in the first place, I should be back at the castle with the soldiers-"
"I'm sure THEY listen to your beck and call, Koren!" Bigieu laughed, and Heath snorted into his tea. Koren glared at the demoness.
"Shut up you bitch. Come to think of it, you'd fit in perfectly with them. You think I like going to my chambers every night to find three of those whores waiting outside the door? I swear, they think that I'm some sort of God or something." He spoke angrily, but Heath looked closely to find a hidden smirk.
"I bet you do like it, actually, you male slut. I'VE heard rumors that when you began your position as general, no rookie was safe from your nightly visits!" Bigieu hissed, a real hiss, showing her true nature for a moment.
The bar went still as Koren held a blade of pure flame against Bigieu's throat.
"Say that again. Go on." The wizard challenged, eyes shooting daggers. The she-wolf swallowed hard, and Heath slowly raised his hand up to touch Koren's arm gently.
"...Calm down. This is pointless; we're at the end of our lines as it is. Why don't we just stay together for one night and SHARE these ideas we all have about way to obtain you-know-what and to demolish you-know-who." The priest sighed. Koren regarded him for a moment, looked back at Bigieu, and extinguished his knife.
"...Fine. The inn is across the alley from here. Let's just go." He muttered, and stood up. The other two silently followed him, stunning the tavern. As soon as they were out the door, the bar began to swap their gossip about the three magicians.
Prayer of Mana
Chapter 1
Heath entered the tavern hesitantly, bringing some of the snowdrift in with him. His satin cloak and robes didn't provide enough protection against the harsh winter storm. Then again, Jad wasn't exactly known for its blizzards, if it even had had any in the past to be known about. The young mage shook the flurries from his hair and clothes and strode farther into the bar.
There was a large crowd of people inside tonight, probably escaping the cold to warm up with a few drinks. A few Forcenan soldiers sang a rough-sounding tavern ballad, a few pints of ale obviously already seeping through their brains. A Beastman sat in the corner of the bar, steadily nipping at several shots of whiskey. Heath wrinkled his nose; he had always hated the smell of fermented grain. He approached the bar uneasily, weary from his travel. The bartender noticed him quickly.
"Hey there, looks like you definitely need something to warm you up!" he spoke calmly, despite all of the chaos about them. Heath smiled.
"...Just...only a cup of peppermint tea..." he mumbled quietly. The bartender nodded, disappeared amongst his fellow waiters, and then returned with a steaming cup of herbal brew.
"...Thanks." Heath muttered and gave the bartender his due. He slipped away and began to look for a table that wasn't overloaded with drunks, assassins, or prostitutes.
"Well....look who's here."
Heath jumped slightly, nearly spilling his tea. He had been nearing the corner of the tavern when he heard the voice. He turned around to find a woman draped in desert wear: a skimpy leather corset, a ruffled skirt, a long striped shawl, a feathered hat, and a smoking pipe in her fingers. The kind of pipe used only by noble men and women...or people of great power.
"Bigieu? What are you doing here?" Heath asked, and reluctantly sat down in the chair she had drawn for him. Bigieu flipped her tangerine hair back behind her shoulder and looked at Heath with tired green eyes.
"...It's a long story," she drawled, taking a deep breath from her pipe and letting out the smoke, poisoning the air. "Let's just say I'm having some...complications with my occupation." Heath's heart jumped. Was she having the same problems as him?
"Pretty much the same here...I couldn't take too much more of the Deathjester's laugh. He stays up until the wee hours just laughing. I think he's obsessive compulsive or something." The Mage snickered, and Bigieu snorted out smoke. Uneasiness settled in and the two sat in silence for a while.
"...What about Jagan?" Heath questioned.
"He's a pain in the ass. Let's leave it at that, I hate his guts." Bigieu growled, suddenly turning a bright shade of magenta. Heath let the subject drop and sipped his tea.
Suddenly, a cry from one of the prostitutes cut through the air as she pointed at a window. As if this was some sort of code, the tavern went completely still and silent. All watched the door, except for Bigieu and Heath, who looked at each other in puzzlement. A bouncer gulped and started for the door, obviously aiming to block whoever was trying to enter, but as he approached the doorway an unseen hand grabbed him by the neck and threw him against the wall. He stood there, pinned, as his target entered the room, and an involuntary shudder rippled through the bar. So did the whispers.
"It's him."
"I've heard stories of entire families being cursed..."
"Look at what he's wearing..."
"Look at the bouncer, he can't move!"
"It's really the Crimson Wizard..."
Heath's head shot up at the mention of that name. Slowly, the intruder emerged from the crowd and into Heath's view; his black clothing making no sound as he walked, but the jangle from his bangles and earrings contrasted with the swish of his cape.
Koren.
He approached the bar slowly, all eyes upon him. Bigieu shrugged slightly, turned away, and puffed on her pipe. Heath sank down farther into his seat, turning the same color as the opposite mage's attire. When the wizard finally reached the bar, the same waiter who served Heath stepped abruptly to him.
"...The usual." Koren muttered darkly, and within five seconds the bartender brought his order back: a glass of water, and three small, green pills. Koren picked up the glass and medicine and walked over towards the corner where Heath slouched and Bigieu puffed. He stopped and turned his head to the struggling bouncer, who was turning blue. He shrugged and the invisible hand let go of the guard's neck, leaving him gasping for air. Gradually, the room picked up volume again.
Koren pulled his own chair and sat down at the table opposite of Bigieu. The Sorceress blinked at him and blew a smoke ring into his face. He smirked.
"You know those things will kill you eventually." He spoke, his voice a steady alto soprano with a hint of sarcasm. Bigieu smiled.
"I take my chances, Lotus Magician, unlike you who could never down a tankard of any poison these fools drink." She hissed.
"Exactly. That stuff is only for the fools. I'd rather not rot my mind with such a terrible thing." He shrugged, wetting his finger and tracing the rim of his glass with it. If there wasn't so much noise, they probably could hear it ring. "So I settle for my own poison."
"Dragon Fang pills," the witch identified, shifting her position and looking upon the small green tablets, "a potent anti-depressant. Don't you know those things will kill you eventually?" she mocked.
"I take my chances, she-wolf." The sorcerer grinned and picked up his glass and all three of the pills. He downed them quickly, without regret, and set his glass back down. He sighed and finally took notice of his fellow magician.
"And what are YOU doing here, Mirage Mage? I always thought someone like you would stay away from dingy places such as this." Koren said, but his voice was not as harsh as it had been with Bigieu. Heath sat up more and looked Koren in the eye.
"I had some difficulties back at the Palace, what's the big deal? It's not like we see people like you, Mr. High-and-mighty, in dim bars taking in poison pills everyday." Heath taunted, smiling slightly. Koren shrugged the comment off.
"I got tired of listening to them bitch to me all day. You know, the Queen, the Emperor....the Darkshine Knight even! I'm sick of taking orders, so I told the Emperor I'd be out for a while, and left before he could put his opinion in. Like he cares." He retorted, brushing some of his golden hair behind his ear to reveal three rings and a stud dotting his lobe. Heath looked into his cup and smiled; those earrings were a definite turn-on. Perhaps that's why the soldiers liked him so much.
"Looks like we're all here for the same reason then," Bigieu concluded, and put out her pipe, "Tired of taking orders. You know, I have a ton of ideas that are better than my Lord's....don't get me wrong, I highly honor him but..."
"Don't start. We know you fancy him so just shut up and quit while you're ahead." Koren snapped sharply. Heath figured anger could be a short term side-affect of Dragon Fang pills. Bigieu pouted and turned away.
"I was just saying. And anyway, he wouldn't listen to my ideas..."
"Or mine." Heath and Koren looked at each other after speaking the same line. Koren huffed.
"Oh this is ridiculous! I don't know why I came here in the first place, I should be back at the castle with the soldiers-"
"I'm sure THEY listen to your beck and call, Koren!" Bigieu laughed, and Heath snorted into his tea. Koren glared at the demoness.
"Shut up you bitch. Come to think of it, you'd fit in perfectly with them. You think I like going to my chambers every night to find three of those whores waiting outside the door? I swear, they think that I'm some sort of God or something." He spoke angrily, but Heath looked closely to find a hidden smirk.
"I bet you do like it, actually, you male slut. I'VE heard rumors that when you began your position as general, no rookie was safe from your nightly visits!" Bigieu hissed, a real hiss, showing her true nature for a moment.
The bar went still as Koren held a blade of pure flame against Bigieu's throat.
"Say that again. Go on." The wizard challenged, eyes shooting daggers. The she-wolf swallowed hard, and Heath slowly raised his hand up to touch Koren's arm gently.
"...Calm down. This is pointless; we're at the end of our lines as it is. Why don't we just stay together for one night and SHARE these ideas we all have about way to obtain you-know-what and to demolish you-know-who." The priest sighed. Koren regarded him for a moment, looked back at Bigieu, and extinguished his knife.
"...Fine. The inn is across the alley from here. Let's just go." He muttered, and stood up. The other two silently followed him, stunning the tavern. As soon as they were out the door, the bar began to swap their gossip about the three magicians.