Chapter 2: Price of Pride
September 19th, 1070 AE.
I'd woken up early that day, but not because of any nightmare. I barely had time to sleep, let alone dream. Lady Althea trained me passionately, but her passion for teaching resulted in my days enveloped in work.
Tiresome as it was, I was grateful for all the effort she put into her classes, as well as the noticeable improvements in my mesmer abilities. My mind was bursting with knowledge acquired from Lady Althea: Spell cancels, combat hexes, movement hexes, enchantment spells, energy drains, energy transfers, spell chaining, everything.
I met her that morning at the usual place: the actor's theatre outside of the city.
"There will be no lesson today, Pyrus," she told me. "I have to go to a council meeting in Ascalon City concerning the recent string of Charr invasions. I expect you to review what I've taught you; we'll have a skills assessment in our next meeting."
"Milady, of what importance are these Charr? Aren't they trapped behind the Great Northern Wall?" I questioned.
"They're normally no trouble and easily apprehended; however, the three Tyrian kingdoms, Ascalon, Orr, and Kryta, are far more concerned with the Guild Wars than the Charr. However, the Charr have been growing stronger recently, and their increasing potency of magic worries me."
"Is there anything I can do to help? Surely I could kill some Charr," I replied. "After all, I've been well taught."
"No!" she yelled fiercely. "You mustn't go near those Charr! You're not experienced enough yet!" I was frightened by this outburst; I'd never seen Lady Althea with such intensity. She immediately composed herself and continued. "Now, study your spells. We'll continue with your training tomorrow." She turned around and headed for Ascalon City. Lady Althea's warnings still rang in my ears, but they weren't doing anything to appease my curiosity.
I'd never seen a Charr before, not even in books. In Ascalon nobody spoke of them; I wasn't sure if that was out of disgust or fear. In any case, I just needed to see one, just a glimpse of a Charr, then perhaps I'd work on my spells. I pondered further and then had an idea. What better way to kill two moas with one stone than to fight a Charr? I'd be practicing spells as well as seeing a Charr with my own eyes. I walked toward The Great Northern Wall and spoke to the guard.
"Halt! No one is allowed within these gates without permission!" the guard bellowed.
"My good sir, I have permission from Lady Althea herself," I replied. Hopefully this lie wouldn't get back to Lady Althea. The guard quickly apologized and signaled to the guard to open the gate. I closed my eyes, reached into my pocket, and took out my mask. I put the mask on and walked through.
On the other side of the wall, I looked around. The lush green landscapes of Ascalon were covered in ruins and blood. I walked further and saw the corpse of a warrior lying up against a wall, as if he'd been thrown and simply didn't get up. Perhaps these Charr really were above my technique.
I meandered for a bit longer around the ruins when the moment of reckoning came: I saw one. It was a gruesome hairy giant of a creature with a scarred face and clad heavily in armor. It wielded a giant bloodstained axe, most likely thirsty for some fresh mesmer blood like my own. I was admittedly frightened. Terrified, really, but I couldn't turn back now, my pride had already pushed me into Charr territory.
The Charr was a warrior, so I figured the best way to go about this fight was to hinder its attacks. I muttered the incantation for Empathy, followed by the incantation for Conjure Phantasm. The Charr's senses were sharp, however, and he heard my incantatory noise. He snarled and looked right in my direction—there was no hiding from this beast.
He howled and ran toward me, hitting my chest with the blunt end of his axe. Never had I felt such a force exerted on me. I was flung through the air as though I was nothing and landed on the ground, my attire now covered in dirt. I struggled to get up; the blow had left me out of breath. The Charr kicked me over so that I was lying on my back. He looked at me savagely with the most gnarled face I'd ever seen.
"You have no business here, human!" he yelled.
"I'm sorry, I was frightened and acted out of self-defense! I'll leave, I promise!" I stammered.
"You humans are incorrigible. This is not exclusively your land, and yet you keep us behind these walls because we do not believe in your gods."
"What? The Gods? Then what do you believe in?"
"The Titans," he replied gruffly. I'd read about the Titans, but mostly in ancient mythology. Did these creatures believe in mythical creatures, or were they merely unaware that such a thing could never exist?
"But the Titans are only in myth, they're not actually real," I said aloud, which a second later I realized was a bad move. Once again my mouth was about to get me into great trouble. Damn.
"Infidel!" the Charr roared angrily. "Our Titans will once again rise and you human fools won't be able to do anything to stop it! Our time is almost nigh!" He picked me up by my collar and flung me into a wall. I slumped to the ground, pain coursing through my body. I slowed the Charr rampage down slightly with Imagined Burden, giving myself some time to think, but the hex wore off prematurely. The Charr lunged at me with his axe. The blade connected with me and I felt a sharp pain in my arm. I retained mobility, but I was surely bleeding. This onslaught was futile; I couldn't win.
"My lords, the Titans, let it be known that I, Brash Bloodpyre, have slain the non-believer!" the Charr roared.
I backed up against a wall and watched as the Charr ran toward me. This was it. I closed my eyes, only to hear the painful cry of a Charr. I opened my eyes slowly to the sight of a Charr lying face down on the ground, an arrow jetting out of the back of his head. I stared at the body and thanked Lyssa aloud for her safety when I suddenly heard a voice.
"You needn't thank a god for a mortal's actions," the voice said—a low, emotionless voice coming from somewhere in the ruins. I looked around and saw a figure crouched on a hill, bow in hand. The majority of his face was covered in a mask.
"Then may I thank you instead?" I asked him.
"No. Get out of here," he replied coldly, "this is no place for novices."
"May I at least ask your name?"
"Naveed Zenith. Oh, and here," he responded, tossing me a vial of some liquid. "It's a balm, troll unguent. It'll help that wound." I caught the vial, looked at it for a second, and when I glanced back, the ranger had disappeared.
"Naveed…" I repeated. "Thank you." I clutched my arm and left the wall. I stumbled back to my home, applied the unguent to my arm, and went to sleep.
Meanwhile, behind the false sanctity of the Great Northern Wall, the Charr had just finished a new burning effigy of a Titan. A congregation of Charr surrounded it, and a larger Charr clad in robes stepped up.
"We dedicate this fire to you, my lords, and all the fires yet to come."