December 4th, 1070 AE.
It had been several months since my journey behind the wall, and all that was left was a scar on my arm. And wounded pride.
Luckily, my progress in mesmer training was increasing rapidly. I devoured texts, ravenous for the knowledge that was within them. I dueled frequently with trainees of colleagues of Lady Althea's. Elementalists were my favorite. There's something fulfilling about seeing an opponent put so much effort into flinging fire at you, and in the time it takes for someone to snap their fingers, you can cancel the spell, often at your opponent's expense. Today I got that pleasure.
Aziure, an elementalist friend of Lady Althea, had challenged Althea to a contest. Aziure had a student as well, who she claimed was as talented in the elemental arts as I was in my own field. Althea accepted. She approached me that day, but she didn't seem herself. She didn't greet me today with her usual cheerfully graceful demeanor, but with a sullen and anxious tone of voice.
"Pyrus," she started quietly, "your duel today, between you and Aziure's student?"
"Yes, milady?" I asked.
"Win," she continued. "Win for me." Before I could say anything, she had taken her seat in the theater, today's arena. I brushed the hair out of my face before I put my mask on. The green of the mask already hindered my vision, I shouldn't mess it up further with streaks of brown.
"Althea, darling!" a voice rang, a female's. Lady Althea and I both looked up at the top of a nearby hill. A young woman about Lady Althea's age owned the voice, and although they were of the same age, they were noticeably different. Lady Althea was a graceful woman who always walked with poise, kept her hair very properly in a bun, and always wore very elegant dresses or blouses with skirts. She was truly a princess of her time. Aziure, on the other hand, wore a black tunic with streaks of red to match her bright red hair. She carried herself not with poise, but seemed to move sporadically, much like fire. Althea greeted her with a subtle wave. All this behavior was unnatural for Althea. Aziure ran down to greet her, but I didn't see her student anywhere.
"Althea, how have you been?" she asked cheerfully, as though she had stolen the cheer from Althea, who looked up for a moment, and replied quietly.
"Let us not feign friendship. Let us just fight," Althea replied, but quickly spoke again, "Let our students fight." Aziure didn't look shocked, this must've been a game they played at when they saw each other, a game of folly. Aziure must have been pleased, she'd won this round of their facade. Althea looked up at the sorceress. "Well, where is he? I know you didn't come here just for the pleasure of my company," Lady Althea continued. Aziure laughed softly.
"Aziure, I've arrived!" a voice shouted. I soon learned that the voice belonged to a boy around my age, seventeen or so, who looked as if in all his years lived, he'd never been touched by the sun. He was pale of skin, and grimly dark of hair and armor. His jet black hair and armor accentuated the fact even more that he was little more than a ghost. He walked down the hill slowly and deliberately; his demeanor didn't seem to fit his form. "I lust for battle, we shant tarry with words," he told the group, almost like a command. Everyone obliged, of course. We went to stage right, while they went to stage left to set up. Althea, still uncommonly morose, looked to me. She wanted to say something to me, I could tell, but either the words were stuck, or she simply didn't know what to say. In any case, I padded her shoulder gently.
"I'll win," I told her. She looked away and went to her seat. When Aziure did the same, my opponent armed his staff. "So what is it, sir? Air? Earth?"
"Fire," he replied. "Which is a shame. You mesmers dress so nicely, it's always a tragedy to see your silks turn to ashes."
"My goal today is to never let your fire leave your fingers," I said, to which he replied with only a smirk. He raised up his hand and snapped, and suddenly fire filled his palm. "Flare!" he shouted, hurling the ball of flame toward me. I jumped quickly to the right, and the fire crashed into one of the benches behind me.
"Looks like you failed," he said with a smirk. "What shall we play with next? A fireball? A fire storm? No answer? I'll just surprise you then," he continued as a small spark grew in his hand.
"Backfire," I muttered, and a small trace of purple flew unseen into the growing fire.
"Fireball!" he shouted, but just as he was about to throw it, it burst into a purple flame and exploded prematurely, the purple fire caught on his armor and he shrieked in pain, clutching his head in agony.
"You're lucky. The purple fire only attacks your mind, not your flesh," I told him.
"No! You're lucky I made such a novice mistake, but there's no holding back now! Aura of Restoration!" he yelled fiercely as a golden aura appeared around him. The fire wasn't just in his hands, but in his eyes as well. But I could be just as determined as a praise-hungry elementalist.
"Shatter Enchantment!" I shouted, and the aura shattered into purple shards around him, and again he screamed. He fell to one knee for a moment, so I struck. "Conjure Phantasm!"
The purple ghost moaned as it faded into appearance and darted toward my foe. He now glowed with a purple aura that I bestowed on him and continued to scream in pain. He slowly brought himself down to the ground, clutching his body to help soothe the pain. It seemed he was finished. I walked up to him. "Surrender. I don't wish to cause you more pain."
"Immolate!" he screamed painfully.
"Immolate?" I questioned. "What does that mean?" Unfortunately the answer came too soon. Before I knew it, my vest caught on fire, but from no source. The fire was spreading rapidly, and the heat was terrible. I ripped my vest off and fell to the ground, trying to suffocate the fire. By the time it was out, my opponent was finally able to raise himself off the ground, using his staff for support.
"Only an amateur wouldn't prepare himself for retaliation," he winced, as though each word were a knife through his body.
"Fine! Then we shall end this now! Give up!" I said, regaining my footing, my shirt half-charred.
"You're right. The end of this fight is nigh," he retorted, grasping his staff with both hands. It began to glow vibrantly red. "Meteor Shower!" The sky opened up above me, as though it were about to engulf me within flames. But a meteor shower was not something to be contemplating, but rather something to be dodging. The staff reddened further, and the rift in the sky grew, as did my worries. But then I had an idea.
"A spell that takes this long to cast must be powerful."
"Yes..." he grunted.
"But, as we know, only an amateur wouldn't prepare himself for retaliation," I laughed. "Power Spike." And with that, his staff lost its red hue and flared with purple lightning. My foe howled and fell to the ground, defeated. Luckily, the sky closed up as well.
"You win," he relented. But I knew that the true victory was actually getting him to say those words. "Pyrus, you have bested me, Demitri Albatross of Ascalon." I extended my hand to him and helped him up. He was surely hurt, and I can't imagine the headache he must have gotten from my mind tricks.
"Bravo, Pyrus!" Althea was applauding loudly behind me, a wide smile went across her face. This time it was Aziure with the frown. I turned to her and bowed, sharing a laugh with her.
I jumped off the stage and went to Althea so that we could pack up and continue to train, when suddenly the ground began to shake and a crystal engulfed in blue flame crashed into the theater. We both looked up and saw a rift in the sky, much like the one Demitri earlier created. My anger flared. There is nothing worse than guerrilla attack. "Demitri! Our battle is done!" I turned around and shouted, only to see Demitri and Althea staring worriedly at the sky as well.
"It... It's not me," Demitri stammered quietly.
"Boys. Get inside Ascalon City. Behind walls. Anywhere, just not here!" Althea shouted frantically. "Aziure, come with me and warn the others." With that, both of our instructors ran off. Demitri and I shared a glance and ran towards the city walls. I glanced back behind me and saw crystals and blue fire falling from the sky. Bigger crystals and more fire. By the time we reached the city, the Ascalonian countryside was engulfed.
I'm deeply sorry for the inconvenience, but the succession of entries lapses approximately two years from this last entry. Until I can find alternate sources for what may have happened in that time, I suppose I'll have to just continue with the most recent entry... but let me assure you, a lot has changed.
August 14th, 1072 AE.
"Energy burn!" I shouted. The gargoyle flashed purple before falling to the ground hissing. I looked upon my prey. A limp gargoyle. He was practice. "How are you two doing?" I called out to my comrades.
"Wonderfully," a voice replied. I turned around only to see my ghastly friend kicking a burning corpse. "These gargoyles know nothing of battle. Only an amateur wouldn't prepare himself for retaliation," he added with a laugh. Some people never change, I suppose.
"Demitri's magic may be pretty, but I've killed three fold of the gargoyles he has!" another voice boomed. I looked over to him next, a tower of a man who looked as though he'd been exercising ever since he escaped from the womb. He was clad in chain mail and a horned helmet, and was currently dislodging a gargoyle head from his bloodied sword.
"Well, Brother Firebrand, it would seem you've done a nice amount of damage," I replied. "It seems we all have, really," I said, turning around in all directions, only to see dead gargoyles decorating the wasteland that was the new Ascalon. Ever since the Searing, Ascalon had changed. The once lush green landscapes were now inhabited by rocks and burnt earth. We had the Charr to thank for that.
"Well, this is fun and all, Pyrus, but do you think we're ready for the real deal yet?" Demitri asked, impatient as always.
"I think it's about time we gave 'em our feelings about what they did to our Ascalon!" Firebrand roared. "So, whaddaya say? Is it time to get our feet wet?"
I scanned the field of corpses, and looked over them with a smile. "Tomorrow, we go past the wall."