Chapter Text
There was once a kingdom called the Great Realm.
It was said to consist of beautiful wildly differing landscapes, joined together into a whole.
A man called Fonkel worked at the royal fortress as councilor and advisor. He liked his job, being one of the king’s trusted men of advice alongside a man called Leonard. He lived a good life, there, at the court.
Outside, the people suffered, but he paid it no mind. Safe, inside the castle walls, what reason would he have to care? In this life, you had to look after yourself.
As long as everyone did that, things worked just fine.
Out in the lands, unrest stirred. The people cried.
A rebellion rose, the people binding together into a band of righteous fury, here to fight and take back their freedom, their autonomy, their chance at a good life, for them and their children.
The king wasn’t worried. They were just lowly citizens, throwing a fit. They wielded no magic, weren’t trained for war.
General Messing would flatten this unrest soon enough.
But the rebellion persisted.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Months became years.
The rebellion did not fall, and took ground. More and more areas fell under their control, led by a young knight and his wife.
A man who worked at the court had deserted in the beginning phases of all this turmoil. The gardener, he heard. The king was furious. A deserter. A traitor. A spy. All of the court was made to know what would happen to you if you would do such a low thing. Such a selfish, unacceptable thing.
He had advised the king to send out his best mages. They would ensure victory, and return peace to the lands, silence these rogue, dangerous people and their efforts.
But the war raged ever on. The rebelling forces had no magic, but they were many. Too many. A lot of the king’s former knights were among their ranks. Filthy traitors. All of them.
One day, a messenger returned with more news from the warfront.
The Wizard of the Elements had fallen.
His eyes widened, heart freezing in his chest. That was their best mage, unparalleled in his magical manipulation of the forces of nature. He couldn’t believe it.
If even a man of his talents had not been able to keep up a stand, then what chance did they even have left?
Dread creeped up. The rebellion was close now, hiding out in the south of the rainforest. All they could do now was defend. Take a stand, keep the northwest areas from being seized.
Try to keep the little land they still controlled in their grasp. Maybe take back a little extra land, but with what forces? A lot of their power had been spent already. Sure, a good part still remained, but it was a far cry from what they started out with.
And if they made it here… (was it even still a matter of if? Not simply when?) he would be seized. Him, and all the important others, they would be killed.
He knew exactly what threats the king had made about traitors. Remembered the golden days when he was proud to serve him. But what pride was there in serving a king this close to ruin? The man was doomed. All of them were doomed, unless a miracle happened to turn the tide.
He would not wait for any miracles. He told himself his motto. In this life, you have to take care of yourself. He grabbed his belongings, stuffing them into a bag in the middle of the night. Tonight, he would make his escape. He would not stay to watch this unfold. His life would be protected, would continue on, outside these walls.
He took his bag, silent as a mouse, lighting the way with his magic. With a stolen teleportation spell, he was gone, disappeared out of the castle, leaving no trail to follow.
Outside the border, he breathed out, stars shining down on him. Little lights, like the one he owed his name to.
He was safe.
Now all that was left to do was to get far away from here, and find a new place to start over.