"Good morning, Grandma! The aroma of my favorite bread, freshly baked, pulled me right out of bed!"
Arden greeted his grandmother cheerfully as he hurried from his room to see the bread she was making. Aruma was a renowned baker in the Regius continent, crafting delicacies for royalty and attracting visitors from distant lands. Arden and his grandmother enjoyed a tranquil existence, seemingly untouched by the beasts plaguing their world. His mother felt secure in Zion, knowing her grandson was among the most powerful missionaries. Arden was celebrated as the foremost wind magic user, a Magnus Missionary.
"Did you redress the wound on your arm?"
Aruma asked, a hint of concern etched on her wrinkled face. Her grey hair was neatly tied back, and she wore her apron. She carefully set the freshly baked bread on the table and approached her grandson.
"Yes, Grandma. No need to worry; it's healing quickly. I already took the royal physicians' special tonic."
He said with a smile as his grandma examined his arm.
"Alright, before you eat, put on a T-shirt to ward off the chill. It's early and cold. Being a missionary doesn't make you immune."
Aruma urged him to cover up, seeing him half-naked. His excitement had likely made him forget to wear a shirt. Arden scratched his messy mullet and flexed his slender shoulders for his grandmother.
"I'm not just any missionary; I'm the top wind magic user, one of the Magnus Missionaries."
Arden spoke truthfully.
While magic permeates Zion, not everyone can wield it. This led to the formation of Missionaries across Zion's four continents: Regius, home to the Royal family; Medicus, where the greatest healers reside; Ubertas, blessed with rich soil; and Dives, the most technologically advanced, producing potent weaponry.
Each continent has four General Missionaries who train magic users to become missionaries and seek out the Magnus Missionary. Magic here encompasses wind, fire, water, and earth. Only one Magnus Missionary exists per continent, representing each magic type. They are chosen annually through a trial by fighting against the reigning champion. This contest is critical, as only a Magnus Missionary can fight alongside the King against the red-eyed beasts, the most formidable of all. Fortunately, unlike their black-eyed counterparts, these creatures emerge only during the full moon to feed.
"Just put on a shirt so we can eat."
Aruma chuckled at her grandson. Despite his confidence, she still saw him as the boy needing her care.
She arranged their breakfast as Arden retrieved a shirt.
Aruma had raised her grandson alone since her daughter and son-in-law fell victim to a red-eyed beast.
Arden never knew his parents, cherishing the photo he had of them.
She felt immense gratitude for the strong, capable young man he had become.
Employed at the palace, she had been granted three days to spend with her grandson.
Both led busy lives, with Arden constantly honing his skills.
Yet, they rarely felt distant, often seeing each other at the palace.
Arden and the king shared a close friendship.
Growing and training together, their bond felt like they're brothers by blood, marked by unwavering care.
They also shared a vision: to bring about a brighter future for their world, yearning for freedom for all.
"I'm starving, Grandma!"
Arden declared, settling into his chair.
Aruma smiled, filling his plate.
"Eat well, Arden, so those arms of yours gain some strength."
Aruma teased, earning an irritated look from Arden.
"Grandma! I'm as muscled as Lysander!
Don't be absurd."
"Alright, alright.
It's funny how you're the same age as the king, yet you still look like my little boy."
Aruma's heart ached, realizing how much he had grown.
"I'm not your little boy anymore. I'm a Magnus Missionary, and the world relies on me now."
He declared proudly, a mischievous glint in his eyes, speaking around a mouthful of food.
"Lysander will love this; it's delicious."
His words were nearly lost in his chewing.
His grandmother watched him eat, marveling at how he stayed so thin despite his appetite.