Chapter 2 - The Journey pt 1 - The Witch

Name: Lars Mertens
Age: 17

Personality: Calm, composed, with a natural confidence. Lars is reliable, diplomatic, and thoughtful, often taking a more strategic approach to situations. In battle, a wilder, more arrogant side takes over him, due to his Mind Magic.

Strengths: Tactical thinker, strong sense of duty, adaptable in difficult situations.

Weaknesses: Can be overly cautious, occasionally struggles with the weight of expectations from his sister's success, he can be very erratic in speech.

Favourite things: Roast chicken with herbs and vegetables, a walk in winter in the snow, spotting falcons.

So last time we left off, I was giving you guys a ton of exposition, and Lars set off on his 3-day journey to reach the Royal Capital. Lars, at this point, had travelled for the majority of the day through many forests and open plains, so when he saw a small village, that was a welcome sight. A rest would be good.

Lars landed in the village, puzzled by the lack of people currently outside. Suddenly, a hand grabbed him and pulled him inside a small building. Lars, currently reeling from the shock, exclaimed with annoyance, "What the heck was that for?!"

The villager who had seemed to pull himself in shushed him hurriedly, saying, "Be quiet or the Witch will hear us, you fool!"

A now very confused Lars asked, "What witch?"

"The Witch is a powerful poison mage who's been terrorising our town for the past few days. In those days, she's destroyed all our crops, and taken down quite a few villagers. She seems to be under the influence of a magic item- Hey wait, where are you going?!"

Lars's face, which had been darkening since the villager had been regaling him with his tale, now wore a mask of determination. He rushed outside. getting on his broom, but not before giving the villager a determined look and stating, "I'm going to find that mage."

"Are you insane?!" the villager shouted helplessly, as Lars rushed towards the powerful mana signature he was sensing.

Lars was in a more decrepit part of the village now, most likely due to the mage's reign of destruction. He finally got a glimpse of her. The mage's long, flowing black hair was cascading down her back, contrasting sharply with her pale skin. Her piercing violet eyes were glinting with a quiet intensity, reflecting both her intelligence and the dark nature of her magic. At the start of her journey, she was dressed in attire that was mirroring her witch-like aura. Her black gown, adorned with intricate, swirling patterns of deep purple, was hugging her slender frame, while her cloak, lined with dark feathers, was flowing behind her, giving her an almost ethereal presence. A silver pendant in the shape of a serpent was hanging from her neck, a subtle nod to her poison magic, and her tall, lace-up boots were carrying her with quiet grace.

She bore a cold expression upon her face, raining poisonous projectiles down at anything and everything that moved. As she detected Lars, she launched a particularly large bomb of toxin at him. Lars, hearing the move long before he saw it, sidestepped almost effortlessly. "Oi! What was that for?"

She looked down at him seemingly unfazed, stating, "This is the mage who they sent to beat me. Interesting."

Lars replied, "Yo! Maybe we can come to a peaceful solution."

The mage, hearing those words, narrowed her eyes and said, "Peace was never an option." She then launched another flurry of projectiles at him, this time not missing. Lars took out his grimoire, which hovered in the air, the pages flipping by themselves. It was a pink book, with a white three leaf clover embroidered onto it. With a confident smile, he cast his first spell.

"Mind Magic: Subjugation!"

The mage suddenly stopped in her tracks. Her eyes glazed over and she loosened up, awaiting further instructions. She was under his control. Lars, his expression getting more serious, commanded, "Go to the Royal Capital and turn yourself in." The mage nodded, walking towards a direction that Lars made a mental note of: that would be useful to know later.

The villagers rushed out of their homes, cheering, whooping, skipping in delight. Some of them rushed over to Lars, picked him up, and started lifting him up. A villager started a chant, "Three cheers for the mysterious stranger! Hip hip!"

"Hooray!"

"Hip hip!"

"Hooray!"

"Hip hip!"

"Hooray!"

The town mayor, a portly man who was simply dressed, with a moustache that would have made the Austrian painter jealous, came up to Lars with an expression of extreme gratitude on his face. "You have saved us! This strong mage has saved us! As the Mayor of Generia Village, I thank you on behalf of the people," he said with a gracious zeal. He then hurriedly stated, " I should repay you for your kind deeds."

Lars, who had zoned out due to the unusual amount of attention he was receiving, quickly snapped back to attention and said with a warm smile, "I just need to stay the night." He yawned, stretching. Before he could blink, the villagers had rushed him to a bed and tucked him in. Lars, who was at this point very confused, decided to just not think too much of it. As he lay in bed, thinking about what the next day would bring, he smiled.

I'm finally making you proud…Mother.