Characters: Ross, Amelia, Ewan
World: Magvel, Sacred Stones
Summary: Ross realizes the future holds more possibilities than just one.
The best part of this army, in Ross' opinion, was that it was full of the best warriors and mages and knights in all of Magvel. He knew this because every conversation he and Ewan and Amelia had would eventually roll around to who they admired and why.
At the start it was mostly hero worship: of his mighty father, of wise Saleh, of dutiful Seth. But now that they were close to being true soldiers, the stars had fallen from their eyes – and talk of the future took a different turn.
"What?!" Ross didn't believe his ears. "You don't want to be a Cavalier cause of the horses!?"
Amelia blushed at his volume but nodded. "Yes. I'm not… good at handling them, honestly. And I've been talking with Sir Gilliam, he says a set of fitted armor can be made for me!"
Ross felt himself blinking slowly, maybe stupidly, but he had to deal with internal conflict. Since he had always pictured Amelia charging forth astride a white charger, not enchased in metal like she apparently hoped for.
"That's great Amelia!" Ewan grinned at the blonde. "I changed my plans too, anima magic's gotten kinda dull."
Ross turned to the redhead so fast he may've given himself whiplash. "What, really?! But your mentor is a sage that uses that magic!"
Ewan shrugged. "Saleh's best at anima, but I asked if I could study under Knoll and he said it'd be fine." His eyes gleamed, "Dark magic is a whole new field. I'm going to be the one to unlock its mysteries!"
Ross had no response to that. Even as Amelia congratulated Ewan on his decision, he was having trouble wrapping his head around how the vision of their future had changed right before him.
These thoughts were cut short when Ross' two best friends turned to him and asked, "So are you still planning on becoming a warrior like your father?" "If you are I'm sure Neimi will give you some pointers with a bow."
Ross squirmed under their full attention as they awaited an answer. And after a deep breath, he muttered, "…I always wanted to be a pirate…"
A/N:
Prompt #31: Setting Your Sights, wordcount: 361
The class branching for trainee's is a fun feature and one choice certainly makes more sense narratively than the other, what with character supports. But I definitely went for the less sensical but ultimately satisfying choices – colorful Druids, beefy Berserkers, and pink Generals as far as the eye can see!
