Note: I shouldn't be starting this when I have many more stories going on, but with the remake out and my desire to play it on high, I can't wait any longer. Behold my adaptation of Trials of Mana/Seiken Densetsu 3!

A small note before we go (though looking at it now, it'll be a long one).

All six characters are going to be 'main' characters in this. There's no 'one' or 'two' main. I'm going to give each of them highlights and important roles in the story. And plot lines will intertwin and the six do work together with another group and meet up and work all together in some areas. And with that, all three evils will play a role in this story as well, all paths eventually coming together at the end.

I'm taking from three things: The remake, the original fan translation, and some creative liberties. I won't be altering TOO too much, but there is a direction and way I want this to go, both for character interaction, attention, and development. Plus, I'll admit...I have some pairings in mind. And maybe, just maybe, a few OCs. Though none that distract from the main characters, as this is their story.

There WILL be pairings in this: both fan favorites and hinted at ones, yet also unrequited love and some hints to some theories from implications presented in the fan translation.

Also, I won't lie, there will be a slower pace here and filler in some areas, but even then, alert me if it's too much. I admit that I like slower-paced things, but again, there should be some restraint on my part. Now that I got that out of the way, here's hoping that I entice you well enough to continue!

Valsena, Kingdom of the Plains

Valsena, Kingdom of the Plains

Breathe, he told himself. Breathing was key in this. Breathing...and focus. Focus on breathing. Focus on each and every breath you take. Have complete and total control. For control was vital. Control was everything. Control meant victory.

"Combatants, com forward!"

He sighed and slung his sword over his shoulder and walked out from the darkened space he resided in, his brow chilled with the cooling sweat he produced from the last challenge he cleared.

In front of a large, gathered crowd that consisted of near the entire kingdom, a stalwart man garbed in royal attire of violet and green with curled, bronze hair smiled at the sound of the clamoring cheers that echoed throughout the area. Such sounds brought him back to simpler days. Indeed, though he was in no position to do so now, there were times that he felt very tempted to go and pick up a sword again. He nearly lost himself entirely when the participant from the left stepped forward. By the Goddess Herself, he looked so much like his father at his age…he bore the same vitality too.

"It is time for the final round of the Sword Mastery Tournament, Youth Addition!" the bearded, royal figure announced, looking to the young man that had just exited from the right. He had his features mainly hidden behind a suit of red armor, a yellow tail protruding from the top of the helmet, and a backplate with several spikes. Indeed, the armor was intimidating and fitting for such an event. Yet it was too early to declare a certainty of victory just yet. And though he dare not say it, the royal man had set his hopes up for the other participant.

The young man that entered from the left edge of the arena seemed like a wildly different specimen than his opponent. Whereas the youth he faced was clad from pate to toes in plate armor colored deep brown and vivid orange, this new arrival left his youthful face exposed, along with several other areas of his sinewy form. In particular, his sleeves had been crudely shorn to display his arms, which themselves displayed the dedication which he had put into training his body. Both were banded with hard muscle that, in turns, had the ladies of the audience swooning while the men reacted with varying degrees of admiration or envy. Though lean of build, almost pitifully so compared to the cast iron giant he faced, he presented an impressive figure for one not yet upon the threshold of manhood, but the wiser amongst the audience could discern much resilience in the budding warrior's frame. What armor he did wear, pauldrons atop his shoulders and bracers over his brawny forearms was of contrasting shades of green, the former secured by straps of robust leather that linked in a large buckle that gleamed golden in the fierce sunlight.
These were coupled with a modest heater shield that was rounded towards the top but took on an angular appearance as it descended. A protruding flange, added to reinforce it, ran along the upper rim of the shield's face before descending to bisect it. Rather than a bascinet or great helm, or even a skullcap, he wore little more than an armored visor upon his brow which was also flanged to reinforce the seemingly modest protection it would, hopefully, offer. The rest of his attire consisted of, rather than additional armor, a blue shirt, shorn of its sleeves and which did little to hide the hardened core he had developed through years of training, even if it hadn't stopped at his midsection, while loose and billowy pants rippled in the breeze despite the considerable, and too large, length of the broad belt holding it in place and the further restraint of tight boots of brown leather with silver bands about the vamp.
What truly caught the audience's eye, however, was his face. Cleanshaven, whereas more than a few of the other contestants would be trying (prematurely) to grow beards, his face was fixed in an expression of steely determination, conveying an iron will that seemed more daunting than the expressionless helm worn by his opponent. Eyes of a curious violet color blazed with amethyst fire, daring any who would draw steel to come forth and brave the flames. Lastly, his hair caught the eye as well. His helm did very little to restrain his red locks, which seemed to erupt from his skull in a cascade of fiery tendrils that gave him an appearance reminiscent of a newly mature lion. And, indeed, he would make sure everyone in the crowd would hear his roar.

"In this corner, we have the keeper of nine consecutive wins, the local champion, The Bruiser!" the monarch proclaimed, cheers ringing through the crowd. "And in this corner, we have the up and coming youth who, despite having just entered a few short years ago, has climbed the ranks and earned a place amongst the Royal Guards! Duran!" The crowd cheered again, yet the young man swore he could hear two distinct voices calling out for him.

"Yay! Get 'em, big brother!"

"Don't go getting yourself too banged up now!"

A small smile came to him. Typical Wendy and Aunt Stella. Especially the latter. Had she forgotten what kind of tournament this was? Well, no matter. Their eyes, as well as the man hosting this tournament, were on him now. There was no way that he could afford to lose. Not now. The Bruiser, as he was called, faced him, slinging his sword over his shoulder. "Well, well, look at you. Little guy thinking he's all big now that he's gotten into the Guard." he chuckled, the young man, Duran, swearing that the arrogant punk was sneering at him from behind his helmet. "I'll break you like a dry noodle, kid!"

What did that bastard say?! How dare he-no, no, breathe, he told himself. Breathe, keep a cool head, just like Aunt Stella said. But oh...he would deliver what this jerk was asking for. By the Goddess, he would deliver! "Then what's stopping you?" he growled, beckoning the other swordsman forward. "Come on and try it! I dare you!"

The ruler of the kingdom looked to both of them, the tension high. He held no reservation or preference on who would be the victor, yet he couldn't help but let his eyes fall on Duran for a moment longer than that of The Bruiser. 'So much like Loki…' he thought. And with one final shout of "BEGIN!", the match was on.

The Bruiser launched himself forward, catching Duran by surprise, he stumbled back and lost his footing, falling right to the ground. A young brunette was about to rush right into the ring, but a hand seized her wrist. A blonde woman whose hair was tied up in a bun shook her head. "But Aunt Stella! That guy hurt Duran!"

"No, Wendy." the woman sighed. "I told you this. This is his fight. And you're going to have to let it be his fight." The girl was clearly unhappy with this answer, but she was near helpless against the woman's superior strength. She winced at the remembrance of her bare bottom meeting the palm of Stella's hand. Though, if anyone asked her, Duran got WAY more than she did. And since he was 'too old' for that, as Stella told her, the young girl supposed that she meant hitting him on the head was the 'grown up' version. Still, she far from liked seeing her brother start out so poorly. But ultimately, as Stella said, there was nothing that could be done about it.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! A flood of them soared through Duran's mind. To start off so poorly and in front of His Majesty no less! He had executed each and EVERY practice run perfectly! What had gone wrong? He wasn't allowed to ponder this further, however, as the fake sword of wood was swung down, Duran rolling out of the way and getting back up to his feet. "How'd a guy like you managed to even get into the Guard? Or did you get in because your daddy's got connections in high places?"

He felt an immediate surge of fury overtake him, his blood pumping, its temperature rising along with everything else as he leaped forward, The Bruiser was taken somewhat off guard by the sheer force of the young man as he came forward, wooden sword slashing down, The Bruiser being forced to back up a bit. Indeed, the young man had a fire in him that couldn't be denied. Still, fire could be snuffed out. He lunged forward, the large-haired youth putting up his shield and blocking the weapon, though his opponent had superior weight to him, causing him to reel back somewhat from the force of it. The Bruiser swung his weapon forward, Duran rolling out of way. Though he didn't get the chance to retaliate, as another swing came his way. Up, down, up-down, he kept track of where the sword was being swung. The Bruiser then stepped up and prepared an attack with full force, raising his sword high and planning to bring it down on Duran. The less armored youth parried the attack with the forte of his sword. This gave him some leeway, and the fully armored opponent came down with the same attack again, Duran once again preparing himself and blocking it with his shield. Though when it seemed he was about to do it again-

"ARGH!"

He had been a fool, Duran thought. How could he not see that he was aiming for the young man's leg?! Unfortunately, the revelation came too late, Duran finding himself sent to the ground, a foot placing itself on his throat and holding him down. "So, you give up, kid?" The Bruiser questioned, continuing to add pressure. "Maybe call out for your Auntie? Or maybe your little sister will save you?" he leaned in closer. "Or maybe...your Mom or Dad?"

Duran's eyes widened, The Bruiser seeing the fire that had been present still becoming a raging inferno. "I'll only yield…" Duran said voice choked. "When I'm dead!" he then thrust his sword upward, right into guard above the visor. The sudden jab caused the armored foe to back up, allowing the less armored young man to rise and finally deliver everything he had stored in him, both building for this very day, and what had built up from the sheer foolishness that his opponent had displayed in bringing up the string of names he just had.

Duran lunged forward, The Bruiser unprepared for the barrages of upward and downward strikes, parries, and attacks he was delivering. By the Mana Goddess Herself, he was pouring everything he had into it! Finally, The Bruiser found himself knocked off his feet by the other swordsman, the edge of the fake sword pointing down on him, Duran standing atop his chassis. "W-Wait!" the warrior proclaimed, raising his hands up in surrender. "I-I yield! I yield!" Duran seemed to only apply further pressure down on his opponent, keeping the sword in place, blazing fire still in his eyes. 'This guy's nuts…' The Bruiser thought, the young man still not letting him up, surveying him as if he were some sort of prey animal. "H-Hey! I said I surrender! Let me up! C'mon!"

"And so," the voice of King Richard rang out, taking Duran's attention off his opponent, allowing The Bruiser to make a quick getaway from him. "This concludes the tournament!" He then took the young man's wrist and lifted his arm up. "We have ourselves a new champion!"

Cheers erupted from the crowd, shouts of 'Duran!' echoing throughout the whole area. Richard looked to the young man, his face beaming with something of a paternal pride of sorts, to his surprise. So much like his father...although...that fire of his perhaps ran too hot.

Though, amidst the crowd, two watchful eyes were looking upon what had transpired with curiosity. The figure was hidden in the back and remained silent as the crowd cheered on, yet his eyes centered on the King, as well as the young fighter that had just won the competition.

Altena, Kingdom of Sorcery

He was getting too old for this.

For nearly half an hour, he had waited on her. True, the library had more than its fair share of interesting and engaging texts, he currently being buried in the pages of a book that told of the rather interesting history of beasts of old and their connection to Mana, but he wasn't here to indulge in his own academic pleasures. No, his role tied specifically to someone else's academia.

Someone that should've been here by now…

"Hm?" The sound of footsteps drew his attention, the entrance to the section of the castle at the top of the stairway being opened, heeled boots giving light echoes as the source of them came down, finally reached the end of the stairs. "Good to see you, Princess Angela. Finally."

The young woman had her arms crossed, obviously displeased in being here at all. Contrary to her title, she wore rather risque clothing, a ruby, sleeveless leotard that brought up her chest and was embellished with golden trims, two sections of cloth fanning outward around her waist and attached to the leotard, both sharing the same embellishments of gold. A ribbon fashioned into a necktie of sorts was fastened with a green stone around her throat, a pair of ruby red earrings in her ears. Gloves and boots of dark violet with white cuffs rested on her hands and feet, and a head ornament of the same color rested on her head. Despite her rather unorthodox attire, she was a perfect reflection of her mother. Her skin was fair and light, her long, luscious hair a beautiful magenta, of which was tied in a half ponytail, the rest hanging down, and her eyes were a perfect replica of the Peridot gemstone. Indeed, she WAS the daughter of their dearest Queen of Reason.

"You win, old man, Jose." well...in the body at least. "Victor promises that he'd stop hounding me if I come to at least ONE of your lessons this week."

Jose smiled, taking a moment to groom his mustache and beard. "Well, then." he sat down by the pile of books he had just laid out for himself. Yet now that she was here, and had kept him waiting for so long...he had a different sort of educational session in mind. "I do hope that you're in a reading mood because I found that a good number of these texts would do you some good to read."

The magenta-haired young woman looked at the plethora of books strewn out on the table. At first, she was going to make herself scarce, promise or not. But then, she saw the titles of them and realized that several of them related to Arcane texts and literature. "What is this?"

Jose gave a knowing smile. "Tell me, for one who's so set on getting magic down, how much studying have you actually been doing?"

Angela bit her lip and averted her widened eyes. Curses, despite his age, the old man was sharp. "I've…" she crossed her arms. "I've been studying!" he gave her a deadpanned look, clearly knowing better. "Well…" she then said, twiddling her fingers. "I've been studying enough…"

"Well then," Jose began, clearing his throat. "Surely you can answer me this." he then pulled out a blackboard, eight circles on it, each with a unique symbol in them. "There are eight forces that govern not only magic but the entire world. Name them for me."

Angela huffed. This was what he had planned? This was child's play! Even she could do this! Even she could...yet couldn't...she shook her head. Not the time. "Earth, water, fire, wind, light, darkness, moon, and wood." She listed them all perfectly.

"Good, you have that down, I would hope," Jose remarked. "But what is the relation between them all?"

Relation? There was a relation? "Um...they all…" the princess struggled to answer. "Are elements?"

Jose smirked. "You've forgotten the most important part: they are all a part of Mana."

"I-I knew that," Angela answered, crossing her arms.

"They are the forces we can harness, yet it is through Mana that we can harness them at all." He then produced a small flame in the palm of his hand, Angela was drawn to it as if she were a hapless, entranced moth. "Mana is the source, Princess. Magic is only a way of manifesting it."

She got up and grabbed the wand by one of the bookshelves, she had forgotten it the last trip she had come here. And skipped class. Again. Well, no matter. She couldn't sit still any longer. Pointing it forward, she concentrated all her energy into the crafted wand, closing her eyes and reciting Jose's words in her mind, along with all that he had said before. She concentrated, concentrated, concentrated…

And yet, nothing. She growled, trying again, and again, and again. Only to yield nothing. As always.

"And I've also told you that form is NOT the only manner that magic requires," Jose interjected sternly. "One must focus all they have into the casting."

"What do you think I've been doing?" Angela told him, clearly frustrated. "I'm TRYING the best I can!"

"Then it perhaps lies in your execution. The wand is your channel. You must focus your energy on that." Jose suggested though he sensed he knew where this was going to go. Indeed, she looked at the wand in her hands, then threw it to the side. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Out." she said curtly. "Besides, Victor's your favorite student anyway, go teach him something." with that, she traveled up the stairs and exited the room, leaving Jose alone with the collection of texts he had been previously reading through.

He sighed and shook his head. Such a difficult young woman...though it couldn't be denied that he saw her struggle to properly cast something, anything. After all, what good was a magicless magician in the Kingdom of Sorcery?

Valsena

With a sigh, the young man was walking down the streets, congratulations, and cheering of his name still ringing in his ear. "My big brother!" Wendy proclaimed in a sing-song voice. "Winner of the Tournament!"

"Well," Duran felt his Aunt's strong yet soft hand place itself on his shoulder. "Looks like all that obsessive training paid off."

The wild haired young man gave the woman a smirk. "And you said that all of it was a 'waste of time.'" he gained a small glare in response.

"It was when you were shirking your chores!" Stella remarked, giving him a small knock in the back of the head. Helmet or not, the woman could give a good hit.

"Hey, I did them all!" Duran argued back.

"Yeah, hours AFTER I asked!" Stella replied. "And then, you went RIGHT back to swinging that sword of yours! Keeping us up all night…" she groaned. "My hand nearly broke from how many times I had to knock some sense into you." The young man inwardly winced at this, though he dare not openly show it. Still, he couldn't stop himself from rubbing the back of his head. Indeed, the woman's knocks could STILL be felt, each and every one of them. "That said," she began again, her irritation disappearing and being replaced with a pride that could match his own. "You really were something out there." her hand ran from his pauldron and to the flesh of his muscled arm. "And while it still doesn't excuse you for neglecting your other responsibilities, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud of you."

The young man felt his chest well up at that and had to take a moment to compose himself. He'd never let such a thing show, especially not now, but still, his resistance was crumbling. He needed more time, at least until he got home.

"Hello there." The three family members were taken from their private circle of warmth and turned to face a rather peculiar-looking stranger. He had his facial features mostly covered up along with a good portion of everything else in a long, flowing, red shroud save for the lower part of him, of which seemed to be a long tunic of sorts decorated with golden trimmings, a pair of brown slippers on his feet. His face was mainly concealed, but his intense, amethyst eyes seemed to bore into everyone and heavily contrasted with the strands of blonde locks that slipped out from the clutches of the shroud. "Forgive my intrusion, but I couldn't contain myself from congratulating you on your success in the tournament."

Duran blinked, more than a little off-put by the sudden emergence of this stranger. Still, he quickly straightened himself up and puffed out his chest. "Well, ahem, thank you kindly, sir." he then relaxed somewhat. "Though...I DID put in months of training, and that Bruiser guy was nothing more than some guy blowing smoke out of his-" a hand placed itself on his shoulder, Aunt Stella giving him a subtle warning to cut it out.

"What he means to say, is that he's glad that such effort didn't go to waste." the blonde guardian answered for him, Duran about to protest, yet a glare shut him up. "Anyway, thank you kindly, sir."

The cloaked man nodded, looking at the older woman, then taking her hand. "You have quite a talented son," he remarked, Stella's face growing hot. By the spirits, his voice was sweeter than honey, not to mention young.

"Oh, no," she told him. "He and this little one here are my... sister's children." there was a notable pause in her voice when she told him that he caught on.

"I apologize if I brought up anything painful."

"No, no. It's fine." Stella told him. "You had no idea."

The shrouded man looked at Wendy and Duran, particularly at the young man. "You've raised them well." he then, to the surprise of everyone, bequeathed a kiss on Stella's hand, practically giving the woman a heart attack. She stumbled back, still swooning, Duran, in turn, catching her. "I must be off, but I congratulate you again on your victory." he then turned away. "May such fortune and fortitude follow you in your future. Farewell." with that, he turned away, leaving a rather confused and bewildered trio. Well, duo, seeing as Stella was just near unconscious from the small peck she received.

…

"Ugh! She's heavy!"

"Shh!" Wendy told her older brother. "Don't let her hear you say that!" the little girl skipped beside Duran, of whom had Aunt Stella swung over his back. "Besides, consider this...weight training!"

"Weight training, you say?" both froze upon hearing that voice, the body Duran was holding beginning to move.

"Um...I-I didn't mean it!" Wendy began, then pointing to Duran. "He's the one that said you were heavy!"

"You brat! Don't try to make yourself look innocent!"

Stella then began giggling, much to the bewilderment of the two. "Geez, you two act like I don't have a sense of humor!" she then got off of Duran and to her own feet. "Besides, it's been a terrific day! We've got ourselves a champion living with us, and even more," she giggled. "I managed to get a little memory to remember this day by even more." she then rubbed the spot where the younger man had kissed her hand. Aunt Stella's abode was a bit of a distance away from the castle, but ultimately, it wasn't that long of a walk. Good thing too, because while he wouldn't show it, Duran's body was quite spent from all that had happened earlier. Even if he'd insist and probably try to go a few more rounds with whoever was foolish enough to challenge him. Entering through the door, Wendy immediately went to her room to her collection of toys that were waiting for her. Duran felt a hand place itself on his arm, his blonde guardian smiled at him. "Go on and wash up. We're going to have a feast tonight!"

He needed no further motivation, going up to his shared room and placing his armor on the table stationed next to his bed, Wendy in the world she had created with her toys. Given that it'd be some time before it was done, and that he would definitely need to assist, Duran took this time to allow himself to sit on the bed before going to get himself clean, the thought of chilled water relieving him of the heat his still pumping blood caused quite alluring at the moment. Completely oblivious to his little sister, he released a heavy sigh, a small smile coming to his face. "I did it," he said quietly, unaware that Wendy was listening. "I did it...father."

Downstairs, Stella closed her eyes, a smile creeping on her face. "You had better have seen that Loki," she said softly. "You too, Simone." she didn't manage to catch the single tear that had begun to travel down her cheek.

Altena

Yet another productive day.

Bah.

It was just like any other. Nothing. No progress, no inkling of some form of the ability she was supposed to have. Nothing! Oooh, she wished she had taken that wand, the flowering tree of bright, fat, golden blossoms she was sitting under would've made for perfect target practice! Hell, she might even succeed in setting something on fire!

Though like that'll ever happen. It hadn't happened in the last eighteen years of her life, so what was the chance that it'd happen now?

"You broke your promise." a male voice caught the Princess's attention, she looked up from her sitting position to see a blonde the same age as she dressed in simple attire looking down at her, clearly disappointed. She simply huffed.

"I said that I'd GO to old Jose's class. I never said I'd STAY for it."

The blonde sighed, looking at her and asking silent permission to take a seat beside her. She agreed, scooting over to create a place for him below the tree. "Angela," he sighed. "You know well that magic isn't something that can just be conjured up. It takes time."

"Eighteen years? Forgive me if I'm a LITTLE tired of waiting," she stated, folding her arms. "Damn it all…"

"Language, Princess!" the blonde lectured, though she wasn't having it.

"I don't care, Victor!" Angela cried out, rising up and stomping her foot down. Victor sighed. Honesty, the heir to the throne acting in such a way… "I can't do it, I can't do it, I CAN'T DO IT!" she huffed and puffed, winded by her tirade, slumping down when she exerted all her energy. "I can't get it...it doesn't matter how many of the old man's lessons I attend. I haven't been able to get ANYTHING." she bit down on her lip, Victor seeing the beginnings of tears form in her eyes, of wish she wiped away, turning away from him to conceal herself.

"Angela…" Victor began but found himself at a loss for words. Really though, what was there to say? 'Don't worry, you'll get it!' No, that'd do no good. Or 'We all have trouble at first.' Only, this was FAR from her first. Then, it came to him. "You know," he began. "There's somebody else that had quite a hard time with magic when he was younger."

"Yeah, yeah," Angela said, expecting what he was going to say. "You. I know."

"Actually," what he said next caught her off guard. "It's none other than our own Crimson Wizard."

Angela's green eyes widened. "You mean Koren?!" she exclaimed, Victor nodding. "No way!"

"It's true! At least, that's what Jose said."

She was still quite skeptical. "Well, the old man's bound to go senile some time…"

"Lord Koren was presumably a mage that couldn't have done magic all his life. In fact, he was probably a more difficult student than you."

She paid no attention to this jab, more than curious about this sudden revelation. "Well, what happened?"

"That...is where not even Jose knows." Victor answered.

"What are you talking about?" Angela asked. "You can't leave me hanging on that! What happened?"

"I'm telling you, Jose doesn't know either." the blonde young man told her. "What he does know is that Lord Koren set off to travel and discover new methods of learning, methods outside of Jose and Altenian teachings. He traveled outside of the country's borders and presumably sailed all around the world, as it was a good year before he came back."

"Did he say where he went specifically?" Angela asked, hopeful.

"No, that's the weird part," Victor said, much to the Princess's disappointment. "It wasn't as if he had just come with a good degree of training. He came back…" he paused for a moment. "Enormously powerful."

"Well...doesn't a year of training do that? Hell, I'd kill for that." the young woman huffed, but she was completely invested now.

"No, that's...it's hard to explain," Victor told her. "Jose...he said that even for as long as he was gone...there was no way that he could be as powerful as he was. You have to understand, he could light this entire garden on fire should he see fit," he explained. "As well as, as he told Jose once, kill anyone or anything he wished to. You have to understand, Jose is powerful, yet it took him years upon years, decades upon decades, to be at the level he is now. Lord Koren...he matched his level in just one year. It...it's simply not possible."

Angela was left speechless, though now, a plan was forming in her mind. "Speaking of, where IS Lord Koren anyway?"

"On an assignment for the Queen." Victor answered.

"What kind of assignment?"

"She didn't say," he told her plainly. "Though she warned me not to question her of it again."

"That sounds like my mother…" Angela muttered to herself. She looked up, the sun setting over the horizon.

And yet...and yet, she could've sworn that she felt a chill in the air. And not just the chill of the approaching night...

Note: I changed the types of swords used, seeing as fighting with real swords is a game mechanic in the game, not to mention, a youth competition involving real swords seems rather hazardous to me. Also, I took tips from Sword Buyers Guide, a site where a good deal of history can be found on the usage of swords for The Bruiser and Duran's fight.

Also, the order that things happen here is as follows: Duran's, Angela's, Duran's, Angela's.

Also, I'm taking Koren's name from the fan translation, but his title of Crimson Wizard remains the same.