Ritchie was the first to ask "What should we do hall master, what does this means for us. Does this have any relations to the last act?"
"Whoa Ritchie, don't get too excited. Right now there is no danger for Michail. As long as the mark on his chest remains, he should be immune to prying from both of them. The best thing should be to teach him and let him grow up to be a fine caretaker."
Teacher Atrius continued "Michail, it is wise to keep what you told a secret from others. That includes the both of you as well." He reminded Elenor and Bringo.
"Michail, I will accept you as a provisional apprentice in the runic hall. Since we don't know how your auric energy can be used and since we want to keep this a secret, learn from Ritchie the basics of swordsmanship and start tempering your body."
He continued "Muriel will teach you the basics of magic and hopefully learn how to manipulate your auric energy in such a way to conceal the green aura. Once you have mastered it then you can go ahead and learn what ever you want. I can even teach you my legendary potion brewing."
Elanor rolled her eyes when she heard it and placed the brewed tea in front of the caretakers and Michail. "Master you have destroyed many ingredients that you have borrowed from the hall master of alchemy."
"Ha ha, child it is not called destruction, it is the act of learning via failures. The two of you can learn a bit about it from me." chortled Atrius.
Michail saw both Bringo and Elenor rolling their eyes.
"Michail, get yourself along with these two. Elanor d Arc is the young mistress of the famous Arc family. She has trouble interacting with new people so treat her well."
Elenor wanted to object but held herself back. She truly had social anxiety.
"And that kid there is Bringo Gladd. His father Grongo Gladd and mother Brini Gladd are adventurers. Elanor specialises in runes specially healing runes and Bringo works with alchemy. They are a year older than you so you should call them seniors."
"Yes teacher Atrius" replied Michail. "Seniors Elanor and Bringo, please take care of me." he added.
"Bringo get Michail to settle down in a room. Explain the rules of the academy to him and get him a pair of uniforms of the rune initiates." Atrius said.
He slowly opened a drawer in the table and took an emblem and tossed it to Michail. "That is your identity token within the tower."
"Elanor select a list of book for Michail for his first year and make him familiar with the rules of the library." added Atrius.
"Also remember Michail, the most important thing is when I am brewing potions don't come inside wantonly. Even the air we breathe might alter the composition of the potions." Atrius said as a matter of factly.
Both Elanor and Bringo rolled their eyes at the shameless old man.
.......................
Meanwhile a group of seven riders appeared in the horizon at the edge of the Unforgiven sea travelling west. Kicking up the desert sands they resembled a fast paced sandstorm travelling the desert. They rode brundells. Horse like creatures bred in the sands of Unforgiven sea. The hind legs of brundells could not be seen as they merged with the sand below. they looked like half horse and half sand storm with a wavy mane that merged into the sand. The riders wore clothes that masked their appearances. They covered their entire body even eyes in wraps of brown clothes, just like an age old sarcophagus. This was the Legion latibule. Merciless killers of the desert.
As the legion approached a high dune the one in front made a close fist with his hand. The six following members stopped and started surveying the land below. A trading party of more than a hundred people were slowly traversing the edge of the desert. The leader of the legion spread his palm forward. Suddenly two of the following members vanished within the sand along with their brundells. In a few seconds two small sand mounds could be seen moving behind the hundred man caravan.
The caravan leaders name was Jonathan Britas. He was one of the many low level managers of the Clayton family trading company. The cargo they carried was not precious, just some animal hide and fur from several tribes living at the edge of the desert. Jonathans crew mostly contained labourers and thirty or so hired mercenaries for protection. As Jonathan reviewed the trade documents swirling a glass of chilled wine he heard a commotion of fighting coming from behind the caravan.
Jonathan opened the carriage door and enquired "What the hell is happening there Malarky, is it bandits or any sand creature."
"Seems like bandits sir, two of them. Don't worry we will deal with them in a minute." Malarky replied. "Hey idiots whats talking so long" growled Malarky.
Suddenly Jonathan and Malarky saw a dark slash. A weapon unlike any other they saw in their lives. It looked like a long flexible sword fifteen feet in length. It seemed phantasmal. The queer thing was as the mercenaries and labourers tried to defend the sword with theirs, it passed through it like the sword was never there but once it reached their body, all they saw was their heads and torsos slicing apart. In less than two slashes more than half of the caravan was dead.
"Malarky what the hell are those" Jonathan shouted, fear permeating his voice.
"Hell if I know" Malarky drew his sword and assumed a stance to protect Jonathan.
The slash came two more times. It manoeuvred in impossible angles stabbing, slicing and killing everyone in its path until it was just Jonathan and Malarky.
Malarky made a choice to run leaving Jonathan behind. 'At least he can buy me some time' Malarky thought.
Jonathan was on his knees looking at the horrible creatures on top of the even horrifying horse, suddenly a head fell near him, Malarkys. His dead eyes peered into Jonathan's like he did not deserve this.
Jonathan growled at the top of his lungs "What are you?"
He was replied by silence as a phantasmal sword pierced his behind. The sarcophagal creatures contours changed slowly as the wraps of clothes around him wavered slowly assuming the characters of Jonathan Britas while the other seven took the form of Malarky and few others. The brundells assumed the shape of unassuming horses killed by the legion.