"Most people your age are totally unaware of the war, though all of Maple World once struggled under its influence. The records of that time seem to have vanished in flames; kindling for an unwanted battle." -Alcaster, Phantom's storyline

500 years ago, the Black Mage was sealed away by the legendary heroes of Maple World. But the hard-won peace that came at the cost of their sacrifice is about to end. In the absence of the Empress and the Transcendents, the great nations of Maple World find themselves in a world without order and balance. As a bloody civil war stains the pages of their history, only three can stand against the chaos that ensues. Heinrich, a young magician and a prodigy from Orbis, hopes to bring together magical and non-magical races through his devotion to the Goddess. Idalia, the Knight of Light to an absent Empress, fights to prove her worthiness to the dogmatic Senate and to bring a swift end to the conflict. Bianca, a young woman and a single mother, has a dark past that she knows nothing about. Her destiny is tied to the mysterious Book of Ancient, a dangerous tome of great power. As dark forces pursue her, Bianca must find a way to overcome her past before it swallows her, and all of Maple World, whole.


Act 1, Part 1: The Huntsman King

Athena Pierce stepped off the boat and surveyed the dock. The journey had been longer than she'd thought, in part because she simply had not traveled in a long time. It had been her first time traveling by sea, as airships wouldn't take her to where she was heading. There were no airports in El Nath and the trip from Orbis would have taken too long, even if the city of the Nymphs were open to travelers. She pulled her coat tighter against the frosty air. Despite bordering both the torrid Nihal Desert and the lush Mu Lung Gardens, El Nath was a land of everfrost, where it was commonly said that only those with warm blood could weather the cold. Athena, unfortunately, was not one of them. Elves were made to feel the sun shine through verdant forests, not a thick layer of frost and fog. As such, she realized that she was quite underdressed in her skirt and overcoat.

Nevertheless, she was not one to complain when so much was at stake. Maple World was at peace, and a hard-fought peace at that, she reminded herself, though precious few could remember the days when it had seemed as though the world itself was about to end. She herself had been a child during those days, though she had been close enough to the battlefield that she could remember the flames licking away at the earth, and the terrifying beasts created for the sole purpose of pure destruction. It was because she had lived through that time that she understood the cost of peace, and that it was a price that needed to be paid, no matter what. That understanding was what had taken her to the docks of El Nath, where a red-robed woman appeared amidst the crowd of fishermen.

"Lady Athena!" the woman rushed ahead and embraced her.

"Rene," Athena returned the warm embrace. "How many years has it been?"

"At least half a decade now," Rene smiled. "Of course, that must be only a few days to you, wouldn't it?"

Athena laughed. "Elves may live as long as they do, but I can promise that we feel the days pass just the same, especially the days since our favorite students have graduated. I'm eager to hear all about your adventures."

"And I'm eager to hear about yours, but let's get you out of the cold first," Rene said. "I think the tips of your ears have gone red."

After a brisk walk through the village, Rene and Athena arrived at the local inn, The Hector's Hovel. Sipping at her mead, Athena felt warmth bubble in her belly as she listened to Rene chatter away.

"Most of the town is fairly new, but the village that it started out as has been around forever. It's still a fishing town like before, but we've gotten a few hunters too. They get pelts and meat, mostly. Firewood too, sometimes, but the villagers can normally get those without any help. I found my way here about two years back. I was just starting to find my way after graduation and it was a toss up between whether I wanted to go to Minar Forest or El Nath. I spent a few years in Minar before I realized that there wasn't much good I could do there – the people there just happened to need magicians more. So, I made my way northeast and landed in this little place. Fell in love with it and I've been here ever since."

Athena sipped on drink politely as Rene finished. "Sounds like quite the adventure. I'm glad that you've settled in. I was a bit worried when your letters became sparse after you left Minar, but I see that you've been keeping busy."

"Sorry about that," Rene laughed sheepishly. "I meant to write more, but there was always something to do. The town's not that far off from Orbis Tower and ever since the Nymphs closed their doors, we don't get much traffic here. The village was about to fall apart when I got here, but me and a few others were able to get it back on its feet."

"A few others?" Athena asked curiously. "Other Explorers?" She knew, of course. It was the whole reason why she'd come. But she also knew better than to jump right into the matter and scare Rene off, especially when it was a somewhat delicate matter.

"Yep! Tylus, Arec, and Robeira." Rene explained. "Funny enough, they came from Victoria Island too."

"The names are familiar to me. The other instructors have spoken highly of their skills," said Athena, smiling slightly. "It must be fate that all four of you ended up here together."

"Heh, you know that I don't believe in that kind of stuff," Rene laughed. "I make my own luck, no fate about it. We probably all just fell here together since it's the first place we landed."

Athena merely smiled and sipped her drink. After a small pause, she looked up with a serious expression on her face.

"You know, fate or not, that's actually why I reached out to you," she explained. "The other instructors have been receiving letters too. Like me, they're worried about what's going on in El Nath."

Robeira's grin immediately dropped. "So, you've all heard about it too, then."

"Indeed. Riche, the so-called Huntsman King of El Nath. Yin – er, the Dark Lord to you – has been looking into him. The information that she's uncovered is… troubling, to say the least. As I'm sure you know, the Huntsman King is the leader of a band of hunters called the Tarheeds. From what Yin has gathered, the Tarheeds actually predate the Huntsman King's appearance two years ago. They were just petty bandits at the time, barely even worth the trouble of rounding up. But everything changed when the Huntsman King came into power. Under his leadership, the Tarheeds began to make a real name for themselves. What started out as petty thefts soon turned into raids. Entire villages would burn overnight and disappear."

Athena paused. Rene waited patiently. After so many years of knowing her, she familiar with her old teacher's habit of slowly recollecting her thoughts. She took the time to recall what she knew about the Huntsman King. He had come into power around the same time that she had come to El Nath, which meant that she had seen public opinion about them shift noticeably. Just two years ago, the villagers would openly joke about the Tarheeds. Now, just the mere mention of them drew fearful looks.

Athena finally spoke. "From what I understand, the Huntsman King has made it his goal to destroy the spirits of El Nath, and he uses that manifesto to justify his raids on villages."

"Which is complete bullshit," Rene said hotly, ignoring Athena's disapproving look. "The spirits of El Nath have been around since long before the first humans came to the snowfield. Sure, some spirits are evil, but the people of El Nath are only able to survive because of them. It's like what you always said about the elves coexisting with nature, you can't destroy one without destroying the other."

"I agree. And that's what concerns us the most. The Huntsman King's war on the spirits not only devastates the balance of El Nath, but the balance of the world itself. I'm sure you're tired of hearing the old tale, but I feel it's important to say. Centuries ago, I watched the world fall to chaos because of the selfishness of humans and, I admit, even the selfishness of fairies. We are meant to coexist with our fellow beings, and yet, we let our fear warp us into something worse than regrettable. Humans kidnapping fairies and plundering their sacred resting spots… fairies turning a blind eye to helpless refugees – children with no place to go – out of some misplaced sense of superiority. Even when a greater threat appeared, we closed our borders and our hearts, unwilling to help each other when it mattered most. If it weren't for the sacrifice of the five, the world itself would have ceased to exist."

Rene had heard the story many times before. Athena had apologized for repeating it, but they both knew how Rene found herself awed by it every time. Perhaps it was because of Athena's passion from having lived it herself, but Rene always wondered what kind of people those heroes must have been. That not even an army of a million, or even a hundred, but five had been enough to sway the course of the world made her feel like even she, a lone woman who had drifted without purpose for years, had the power to make a difference.

She recalled how Athena had told her about how those five legends had come together in El Nath, at some lonely beacon at the edge of the world. She wondered whether some part of her had instinctively sought out El Nath as a result. She knew that there was ancient magic in Maple World, magic that ran through the veins of the land and connected everything. Was El Nath where that magic converged? Was that the reason why it was where everything seemed to end and begin? Though she couldn't be sure, she felt her blood grow hotter at the thought of the Huntsman King destroying such a beautiful, delicate balance.

"I won't let the world fall apart again," Rene said. "I won't let the heroes' sacrifice have been in vain. Tell me how I can help."

Athena smiled at her old student's indignation. Though she would be hard-pressed to admit, she had always feared that people of the present wouldn't understand the horrors that she had experienced – that they would dismiss what she had been through as mere fables. To see someone so moved by her stories made her feel seen – an unspoken way of saying that all her feelings were valid, that she wasn't merely reciting some tall tale that she had invented as she faded indelicately into the past.

"I'm glad to hear it. And as it turns out, I do have a job for you – for you and the others. As you can imagine, the Tarheeds' campaign of terror has displaced quite a number of people from their homes. In the wake of his carnage, the spirits have grown restless… and the monsters of the region too. Snowstorms and monster attacks have spiked in the wake of the chaos, all of which is hurting the refugees. Unfortunately, Victoria Island has no jurisdiction in Ossyria, and centuries of the continent being split means that I no longer have any connections to anyone who can help."

Rene frowned. "What about the Empress? What's Ereve doing in all this?"

Athena hesitated for a moment, unsure of the best way to go about it. "…I'm not sure. I've made several requests to seek an audience with the Empress, or even Shinsoo. All of them have been denied. I don't know what's happening in Ereve, only that the Empress Aria – that is, the last known Empress who had been seen publicly – was killed shortly before the war began. The Senate claims that the Empress and her bloodline are safe, and that she remains in Ereve for her safety, but I fear that something is wrong. The Senate continues to pass laws in her name, even though no one has seen her face in centuries. Though I hesitate to say, part of me almost wonders whether they've usurped her power in the chaos of Empress Aria's death. Shinsoo would never allow it, of course, but how many are left to carry on her will? Shinsoo had lost much of her power, even before the war, and the Noblesses who inherited her legacy have been dwindling in number If there really was some sort of upheaval, we would never even know it."

"So what you're saying is that we can't rely on Ereve," Rene said after a pause.

"Indeed. And since there aren't enough Noblesses left to protect Ossyria, the other leaders of Victoria Island and I have come to the conclusion that the Explorers will need to help the refugees as much as they can."

Rene looked at Athena in confusion. "I thought you said that Explorers have no authority here?"

Athena smiled. "We don't. However, while we can't directly face the Tarheeds in battle, there's nothing stopping us from helping the wounded and the displaced, and to create private training centers to arm the people of Ossyria so that they can take back their home themselves."

Understanding lit up in Rene, who immediately grinned upon realizing what Athena was getting at.

"And you want me to lead that training center?"

"Precisely. You, Tylus, Arec, and Robeira are some of the best students we've ever had. We believe that between the four of you, you'll be able to train new Explorers just as well as we could. And with more Explorers, we'll be able to help mitigate this conflict until the Noblesses, or perhaps even another kingdom, can intervene."

"Consider it done," Rene said. "I promise, I'll be the best teacher ever. I'll make you proud."

Athena beamed. "I'm glad to hear it."

The next morning, Rene saw Athena off on her voyage back to Victoria Island. She had been filled with an unusual warmth ever since their conversation yesterday. Though she hadn't told Athena, she'd been consumed with a sense of unease during her few years in Minar Forest. When she'd eventually realized that there was no place for her in Minar, she had felt a sense of loss at the idea that she had no purpose anymore. She had been careful not to that feeling slip into her letters, but a part of her had wondered whether being an Explorer had been a mistake.

It was Athena herself who had convinced her to become a bowman after sharing the story of the five heroes during a festival in Henesys. As a little girl, Rene had been enraptured by the story and had wanted to make a difference. She had enrolled in the Bowman Instructional School against the wishes of her father, who had wanted her to take over the family farm. He had stopped speaking to her after she had enrolled, and as he hadn't even bothered to show up for her graduation, Rene had finally accepted that she was no longer on speaking terms with him.

She had once craved the freedom that came with being an Explorer, but alone in Minar, with no family and no guidance, she had found that freedom was far too large and overwhelming. She had almost considered going back home to Henesys, when something had made her book a ticket to El Nath instead. Two years later, she had somehow found herself at the center of a new town, with a new purpose and new friends. And now, she had finally come full circle. She grinned once again at the prospect. "If only the old man could see me now."

. . .

The smoke mixed with the villagers' screams as the men set fire to their wooden homes. The men were a motley bunch. Many wore the pelts of monsters that they had skinned. Hectors, mostly, though a few could be seen sporting Werewolf coats, with one even wearing a Lycanthrope. All wore armor to varying degrees – some chose to forego their helmets or breastplates, but all of them wore capes with the Tarheed symbol – a golden cross on a tar-black background. The men laughed as they used their torches to burn down the village. Several magicians in their ranks opted to use magic instead, using their wands to create flames or sparks of lightning.

Riche chose to observe from the background. Unlike the other Tarheeds, he wore no pelts or armor. Instead, he was clad in rust-colored robes with a long, pointed hood. On the hood was the golden cross of the Tarheeds, with the rusty backdrop setting him apart from the black capes of the others. In one hand, he carried his gold staff with a red orb resting in its crook. In the other, he held his precious book of holy magic. He had no use for the book just yet, though his staff sparked in response to his restrained anticipation.

Soon enough, the Tarheeds rounded up the villagers and lined them up before him. He had long since stopped concerning himself with the sheer terror on their faces. Though he couldn't recall it, he knew that he must have felt some hesitation at one point, back when he had been unsure about his mission. But now, now all he felt was exhilaration at the thrill of the hunt.

"How kind of you all," he began. "To receive your king so eagerly. Others whom we have paid visit to have been foolish enough to send… how shall I put it? Welcoming parties. That we were received so openly gives me joy. I think that I should even give my blessings, so that this quaint little village may prosper tomorrow under my banner."

The villagers remained silent. More than one of them had expressions of barely repressed, defiant anger. Others were fearful, as though they knew that they were one wrong step from becoming beasts in a slaughterhouse. One old man, the chief of the village, hobbled forward, using his cane to support him.

"We… thank the Huntsman King for his generosity," he spoke. "And we ask how we may best serve him."

Riche grinned, revealing his perfect teeth. "But of course. I do admire loyalty and deference… qualities that were instilled into me when I first offered myself to the holy ones. Did you know that the angel of balance has two faces? One wears the face of compassion, of benevolence. The other… wears the face of vengeance. Divine justice. It's said that salvation only comes to those who have known both. Of course, as you can imagine, one comes easier than the other. It's in our nature, after all, to look towards the gentle light. Compassion, benevolence, kindness… any fool may bask in those. Few can stand when it sears into them, when it burns away the veneer and exposes them for what they truly are."

His staff began scintillating.

"I was one of those fools, even as I served the angel of balance. Like many, I only ever knew her mercy. I trained in the holy arts to serve as her mirror, to spread the gift of light. But I was incomplete. I did not realize that to serve one was to serve both. And so it was that the angel of vengeance sent a revelation. The spirits of this corrupt world… I learned that day what they truly are. It was only when they had taken everything from me that I saw the angel's second face. And since that day, I have worn that face as my own. As the angel's light once worked through me, so now do I use it to smite the spirits. That is my mission in this life. To deliver salvation to this world, I will hunt down the sinful and unite us under banner of the holy ones."

He paused to see the effect of his words. As he had expected, few seemed to have actually listened. He stopped himself from sighing. "…And so now, I ask you all this. Where is the spirit of this village?"

Silence, still. However, many in the crowd began to shift uncomfortably. A good sign.

"Not a single person will step forward and reveal the sinner? Think carefully now… I've offered the angel's blessings, but she will have her vengeance yet. I will discover the location of the sinner." He narrowed his eyes. "No matter the cost."

His book flipped open on its own. Riche raised his staff and pointed it at the village chief. Many in the crowd screamed as a trio of golden arrows fired at the old man, who closed his eyes, bracing for the end. Moments later, he opened them and found himself unscathed. A large wall of water stood before him, sizzling from having taken the blow of the magical arrows. The water quickly morphed into a sphere that soon grew eyes and a mouth.

"A river spirit," Riche smirked. "This should be interesting."

The Tarheeds spread out and formed a circle that enclosed Riche and the spirit. His book flipped on its own to another section as he raised his staff. A beam of light shot out of it, creating a magical dome that enclosed himself and the spirit around the circle of Tarheeds. His fingers whitened as he clenched his staff, waiting for the spirit to make its move. The spirit morphed itself into a javelin, its tip solidified into ice. It dashed ahead, straight for Riche, who lazily teleported himself to the other side of the dome. The spirit clanged against the holy magic shell and made a pained gurgling noise as the ice vaporized upon contact.

The spirit morphed itself back to normal and began strafing cautiously around the dome. Riche began strafing the dome to match, his stormy grey eyes locking onto the spirit. He knew that it was only a matter of time before it weakened, as the dome had cut it off from the river – the source of its power. Victory was only a question of when he felt like putting it out of its misery. He wondered how he should end it. Close the dome and vaporize it? Or bait it into taking hits for the villagers? He flashed his teeth as he made his decision – an expression that made his face look as wolfish as the pelts of the Tarheeds. He raised his staff and lifted the shield, whose magic amassed into a ball of energy in the air. As he swung his staff down, magic arrows rained down upon the villagers, who screamed and huddled together in terror.

The spirit's expression turned fearful as it quickly divided itself into dozens of smaller orbs that formed water shields in front of those in the line of fire. It cried out in pain as the holy magic vaporized its mass. What was left of the water sprinkled down and fell onto the snow, which immediately melted upon making contact with the hot liquid. Slowly, the spirit put itself together, now reduced into a tiny thing. Riche narrowed his eyes in anticipation, knowing just what the spirit would do. With nearly nothing left of it, it would make a desperate rush towards the river in an attempt to regain its power. However, the wrenched thing would never make it past him. He would send one final blast and end its miserable existence.

The spirit floated weakly in the air, its eyes staring past Riche towards the river. He braced himself as the spirit darted straight ahead, straight towards him. His eyes widened as he realized that he had been wrong. The spirit flew right into his nose and mouth. He dropped his book and staff and clutched his face, crying out in pain. His chest burned in agony as terror flooded his brain. In spite of the intense pressure, he willed himself not to panic. He closed his eyes and placed all his focus inward. Even without a spellbook or a staff, he still had control over his mana.

He felt the energy within himself, its erratic flow through his muscles and bones. Mana detection was an elementary technique that all magicians learned before being given their grimoires and wands. Mana naturally flowed through channels in the body, but those who studied the magical arts were capable of moving it at will. Most magicians expelled that mana outward and mixed it with the natural energies of the world, thus creating spells of elemental affinity. However, even those who weren't mages could make use of their own mana to augment their physical capabilities – through the swing of a sword, for instance.

In this case, however, Riche had no intention of expelling his mana. Instead, with as much concentration as he could muster, he commanded his mana to flow straight into his lungs. In his mind, he pictured the searing light of the angel of vengeance and invited that energy into his body. A grimoire was necessary for shaping that energy into spells, but this was enough for what he needed. He felt his mana bubbling like lava and willed it to sear away all traces of the water inside his lungs. The spirit would have screamed if it could. And with so little of its mass left, it died instantly.

Finally able to breathe again, Riche began panting furiously. He kept his eyes closed, not yet ready to open them before he centered himself. He placed his focus on his ragged breathing and slowly trained himself to take deep breaths in, then out. Around him, he heard the sound of his Tarheeds roughing up the villagers. Some of them must have tried to escape in the confusion, though that was of no concern to him now. Faintly, he heard one of his lieutenants rush over and prop him up on their knee. Gently, he opened his eyes and found the Tarheeds pointing their weapons at the crowd of terrified villagers. Several of them were bleeding from their noses and mouths.

"Are you alright, my lord?" his lieutenant asked.

"I…" said Riche, still slightly out of breath. "I am. Thank you for your concern, lieutenant."

He got up and accepted his staff and book from another soldier. He surveyed the frightened crowd. Gone were the defiant faces, replaced with looks of utter defeat and fear.

"Your false protector has been defeated," he announced. "This village has been purified by the light of the holy ones. What say you all, to this blessing?"

Silence. He held his tongue, however. One of them was bound to speak up eventually. Moments passed. He waited, and eventually, the old chief hobbled forward.

"With all due respect, my lord, the river… it was the sole source of our food. We have no hunters amongst us, only fishermen. With the spirit's death, the river will dry up. This village will surely perish."

Riche paused for a moment. And then he laughed.

"Perish, you say? Perish? Did I give my blessings to a throng of weaklings? You say that you have no means. I say this is a failure of perspective. Of imagination. The Tarheeds, whatever you may have been led to assume, are not a band of thieves. We do not take… we liberate. In destroying this accursed spirit, we have liberated you from your bondage to it. For too long have the people of El Nath lived at the mercy of lesser creatures. Do you truly wish to cripple yourselves through such a one-sided dependency? Spirits are agents of chaos. They do not feel loyalty, nor honor. They are fickle, deceitful things that prey on the weak at their most vulnerable. Who here is to swear that the spirit would not have poisoned you all tomorrow? Or killed you as it tried to kill me? To use such a beast as a crutch is to throw your agency into the wind. I say, no longer! From this day, you will be the architects of your own lives. I have delivered your salvation back into your own hands. Under the Tarheed banner, I shall unite all of El Nath as its new king."

As he spoke, the Tarheeds saluted him – a cross formed with their arms across their chests.

"Long live King Riche! Long live the Huntsman King!" the cries of the soldiers resounded.

Riche smiled and allowed himself to bask in it for a few more moments before raising his hand. The cries stopped immediately, but the Tarheeds continued saluting.

"And now, in return for my blessing," he said. "I should like to know where I may find other spirits of the snowfield."

More silence.

"Come," he laughed. "Surely one of you must have heard a whisper in the wind?"

Some began shifting uncomfortably. That was a good sign. It meant that more than one had heard something worth hearing.

"Perhaps another gift to motivate you… I serve the angel of benevolence as well, after all. I am not without my sympathies. I can appreciate your difficulties in becoming self-sufficient after countless years of bondage. And as your king, I would be remiss to neglect my struggling subjects. Tell me where the spirit is, and I pledge that this village shall receive a stipend of rations throughout the winter."

The crowd began murmuring, clearly interested in the offer. People were quite simple at their core, he had come to realize. All of them stumbled blindly in the dark, desperately searching for the light.

"You have my word."

There it was. The ray of light that caught someone's eye. A woman stepped forward, haggard and disheveled.

"My brother, milord, he – he left the village some years ago. He found his way to a mining town, at the base of Mount Abrup. In his letters… he told me that their town has a legend about a tree spirit, a powerful one. They say that it's ancient, that it's blessed travelers who've come near it for generations. That's how the town was founded in the first place."

"Mount Abrup, you say…" Richie said thoughtfully.

"It's quite a way, my lord," the lieutenant explained. "Around a month on foot. We might be better off finding another town."

"Be that as it may, I've sworn to purge El Nath of all its spirit pests. And if what she says is true, destroying this ancient spirit would rid the snowfield of a powerful enemy."

Riche paused for a moment, deep in thought. He then smiled once again. "Thank you, my dear, for your helpfulness. My lieutenant will speak with your chief to discuss the arrangements for you rations."

He turned to face the soldiers. "Men, we shall camp here for the night and leave for Mount Abrup at first light!"

The soldiers all gave a cry of affirmation before setting off to make preparations to set up camp. Riche's thoughts turned back to the ancient tree spirit. It likely wasn't the one whom he was searching for, but he knew that it was only a matter of time. And then… he would offer it to the angel and get his revenge. A steady stream of sparks showered from his staff at the thought.