Evocation, a caster domain, is the art of commanding the elements, shaping the raw forces of nature into formidable artes through the conduit of spira. Among the caster domains, it stands as one of the most destructive, rivaled only by the unchecked fury of nature itself. Those who walk the path of the Evoker wield the primal elements—Fire, Water, Air, and Ground—each possessing its own laws, limitations, and potential for devastation.
Mastery of Evocation is neither swift nor simple. It demands an immense wellspring of Spira, for the elements are not beckoned lightly. To call upon flame, to summon torrents, to stir the gales or upheave the very land—these feats exact a heavy toll. Thus, only those with great capacity or unparalleled efficiency with their spira can wield this domain without risk of ruin.
The art of Evocation is not uniform across all lands. In Bellacia, Evokers of renown have refined their techniques to such a degree that they may shape their artes with a mere gesture—handcasting, as it is known. In contrast, the Badlands, where even the rudiments of casting are a rarity, produce Evokers capable of channeling their artes through sheer force of breath, unleashing torrents of flame or cutting winds directly from their mouths. Though such talent is uncommon, it is a testament to the myriad ways in which spira may be harnessed.
Traditionally, an Evoker commands but a single element, their attunement to its essence serving as both a boon and a boundary. However, rare individuals possess the ability to invoke a second element, creating compound artes of remarkable potency—flame and water to produce steam, ground and air to create sandstorms. Yet, this privilege comes at a cost: the difficulty of control grows exponentially, and few possess both the skill and endurance to manage such power without catastrophe. Those who achieve mastery of these compound artes seldom live to experience old age.
For the novice, incantations are a necessity, binding intent to spoken word, stabilizing the chaotic nature of Evocation through structured invocation. But for the master, the elements answer to will alone, shaped by motion, breath, or sheer understanding. And yet, regardless of method or mastery, one truth remains immutable—Evocation is an art of raw might, and in unskilled hands, destruction is far more certain than success.
The rhythmic churning of the train's wheels drummed through the cabin, a steady pulse that was both foreign and oddly soothing to Kai. It was a sound unlike any he had known—a deep, mechanical hum, punctuated by bursts of sound as thaumic energy surged through unseen conduits. The walls, paneled in dark wood and lined with plush seating, seemed to vibrate faintly in response, as if the train itself thrummed with life.
Oro lay sprawled across one of the cushioned seats, his usual dramatics dulled by fever. His face was flushed, damp curls clinging to his forehead, and every so often, he let out a low groan.
"Ten days," Oro murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. "Ten days of travel… though I must admit, I typically prefer my journeys to be undertaken in a far more dignified manner."
Kai watched him warily. "You said it was a side effect?"
"Of overexertion, yes." Oro shifted, propping himself up on one elbow. "Evocation is anything but forgiving. One cannot simply summon flame and expect to emerge unscathed. The illness will pass." He exhaled, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "Besides, I daresay it was worth it, wouldn't you agree? A daring escape, a grand spectacle… I wonder if their wretched hideout still smolders."
Kai folded his arms. "Uh-huh." The experience hadn't been nearly as thrilling as Oro made it sound.
Oro waved a lazy hand, eyes filled with amusement. "I would never dream of diminishing your contributions, of course. However, between the two of us, I believe we can agree that I was the more dazzling figure in our little escapade."
Kai couldn't exactly argue. If not for Oro, he'd still be bound and blindfolded in that storage room. Though a stray thought crept into his mind—why hadn't the noble freed himself sooner? He was clearly capable.
He let the question go and turned his gaze to the window. Towering trees and rugged plateaus stretched endlessly across the horizon, their forms blurring with the train's motion. He had passed this way before on his journey to Aldinia but had chosen not to venture in, wary of losing his way. Now, watching the landscape rush past, he felt the weight of its vastness—a world unfamiliar, unfolding before him. It was his first time traveling like this, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Where exactly are we going?" he asked.
"Brelith," Oro replied smoothly. "A coronation ball is to be held in honor of the city's new ruler—a rather significant affair. Naturally, only those of noble standing are permitted to attend, and as I count myself among them, I could hardly pass up such an opportunity. A once-in-a-lifetime event, after all."
Kai raised a brow. "A coronation?"
"Indeed. Hammond Léveque is poised to become the steward of Brelith, at least until Noah Léveque comes of age—a shift in power that will shape the region for years to come. As a scholar of history, it is not merely my duty but my privilege to witness such a momentous occasion firsthand."
A gleam flickered in Oro's feverish eyes, as if the prospect alone fueled him.
"And, of course," he added with a knowing smirk, "I have reached the age where seeking a proper spouse is expected of me. And what better setting than a noble ball? Elegance, intrigue, the promise of romance—I daresay, amidst the festivities, I may very well find the one."
Kai shot him a dubious look. "You sound awfully sure of that."
"One must always be prepared for destiny," Oro declared grandly before wincing in pain. "Ugh, but first, I must endure this wretched sickness. A most inconvenient obstacle on the path to greatness, wouldn't you agree?"
The conversation drifted after that, and before long, Oro succumbed to exhaustion, slipping into fitful sleep. With nothing else to do, Kai took the opportunity to explore the train.
Kai quickly realized just how massive the train was. Their cabin, reserved for nobility, sat at the very back, offering a quieter and more luxurious space. But as he moved forward, weaving through various compartments, he began to grasp the scale of this colossal contraption.
The commoner sections stretched on seemingly without end—row upon row of packed cabins, filled with travelers of all sorts. Merchants, families, workers, all seated together in clusters. Some spoke in hushed tones, others rested, lulled by the train's constant motion. It was unlike anything Kai had ever witnessed.
He eventually reached what he assumed was the power source—an enormous, reinforced chamber humming with thaumic energy. Unlike the rest of the train, this place felt stark, industrial. Metal plates lined the walls, and arcane machinery whirred and pulsed with life.
Kai turned to one of the workers tending to the core. "How does it work?"
The man barely spared him a glance. "Thaumic conduits feed the core. Keeps the whole thing running," he grunted before returning to his task.
Kai frowned, unsatisfied with the answer. He lingered a moment longer, studying the room. The workers paid him no mind—no glances, no whispers, just silent indifference. With nothing to keep him there, he turned and headed back to the cabin. Later, when he asked Oro about it, the noble merely shrugged.
"Thaumaturgy was never my strong suit," he admitted with a casual wave of his hand. "I understand the fundamentals, certainly, but if you seek a proper explanation, I can introduce you to someone far more knowledgeable upon our return. For now, simply admire the marvel for what it is."
A few days passed, and Oro gradually regained his strength. During one of their meals in the cabin, Kai decided to pry into the noble's background.
"You said you were a noble. I… don't know much about nobles. What does your family do?"
Oro dabbed his mouth with a cloth, pausing before answering. "My family are renowned smiths," he said at last, his voice tinged with pride. "We craft some of the finest bespoke weaponry in all of Bellacia—particularly for the Wardens and the nobility. Precision, craftsmanship, innovation—these are the principles we uphold."
Kai considered this. "So you're a smith?"
Oro let out a light chuckle. "Gods, no. My hands were never meant for such labor. I am a scholar, a historian. My passion lies in the grand tales of our world, not in the clanging of steel. My family understands… though I suspect they find it inconvenient at times."
He studied Kai with curiosity. "And what of you? You claim to be from Vander, yet I must confess, I've never heard of such a place."
"It's a village," Kai answered simply.
"Yes, but where?" Oro pressed, leaning in slightly. "North? South?"
Kai frowned. "Northwest, I think? Surrounded by mountains."
Oro's expression turned pensive. "That region is largely unpopulated," he mused. "Are you certain this 'Vander' exists?"
Kai bristled. "Of course it does!"
Oro chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "No need to be so defensive, my friend. I merely find it peculiar. If you cannot place your home on a map, one might wonder if it ever truly existed."
Kai scowled but had no retort. He had never needed a map—never needed one while living amongst the spirits. But Vander was real. Though, would Oro believe him if he spoke of the miraii and verdwyn?
Sensing the tension, Oro quickly added. "No matter. Perhaps one day, you shall grant me the privilege of witnessing this enigmatic village of yours. But for now, let us turn our attention to the road ahead. Brelith awaits, and with it, history in the making."
Kai hesitated. "Do… you know anything about spirits?"
Oro raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Phantoms and wicked specters, the sort whispered of in spooky tales?"
Kai shook his head. "Never mind."
The train rumbled steadily across the landscape, its rhythmic motion lulling passengers into quiet contemplation. Kai sat near the window, watching the scenery shift from dense to dry, rocky terrain, and, eventually, to rolling fields. It fascinated him, how the world outside transformed as the train pressed forward. Yet, something about the route puzzled him.
"I thought we were going north," Kai remarked, frowning as he watched the dwindling daylight.
Oro, reclined in his seat with a glass of wine in hand, chuckled. "Indeed, we were. Now, we find ourselves looping back south. The railways, for all their ingenuity, lack the sophistication for direct passage to every city. Even Brelith, vital as it is, demands a detour." He swirled the wine in his glass before taking a measured sip. "Still, the inconvenience is but a trifle. The city remains the breadbasket of Bellacia—well worth the journey."
Kai tilted his head. "So it's a farming village?"
Oro burst into laughter, nearly spilling his drink. "A farming village? Oh, that is positively rich! Brelith is no quaint hamlet but a sprawling metropolis, a cornerstone of trade and commerce. The Léveques have transformed it into an economic stronghold. While they have indeed championed large-scale grain production, do not mistake them for common farmers. They do not toil in the fields—they reign over vast estates, dictating the flow of food not only for Aldinia but for much of Bellacia itself."
Kai absorbed the information, glancing at the other nobles in their compartment. "So this coronation... it isn't just about celebrating a new ruler?"
Oro grinned. "Not at all. It's a power shift, and power shifts invite both opportunity and chaos. Hammond Léveque is stepping into a precarious position. His brother's assassination left the city reeling. His legitimacy isn't questioned—he's the rightful heir—but many wonder whether he can hold the city together and there is also the question of his time with the Wardens."
Kai furrowed his brows as he remembered Grant. "Wardens? He hunted monsters?"
"I cannot say with certainty which division he belonged to, but I can assure you, he was no hunter," Oro stated, swirling his drink idly. "I confess, I know little of the man myself, yet I have heard he was of a scholarly disposition. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say he was likely a researcher."
"Do people support him?" Kai asked.
"Hammond is a formidable leader—militaristic, pragmatic—but he is not universally adored," Oro mused, tapping a finger against his glass. "There are factions who would have preferred a different ruler. Some nobles chafe under the Léveques' dominance of the grain trade, resenting their stranglehold. The merchant guilds whisper concerns that his policies will tilt in favor of the aristocracy, leaving commerce to languish. And then, of course, there is the matter of the assassination itself. I hear the culprits escaped. If this were a tale of vengeance, one might wonder if they still lurk in the shadows, awaiting their moment."
Kai glanced out the window again, his thoughts swirling. He knew little of noble politics, but it seemed far more complicated than he had imagined. "So this ball... it's just as much a battleground as a celebration."
"In a poetic manner, precisely. You ought to consider writing for the theater," Oro jested, setting his empty glass aside before stretching languidly. "This ball is no mere gala—it is a convergence of power, where ambition dances behind every courteous smile. Deals shall be struck in whispered exchanges, alliances forged over fine wine, and old rivalries rekindled beneath the gilded chandeliers. Hammond will find himself under the scrutiny of both allies and adversaries alike. I daresay, there will be those keen to uncover any frailty, any chink in his armor, to turn to their advantage."
Kai shifted uncomfortably. "And you're going because...?"
Oro smirked, lounging back with an air of nonchalance. "You needn't trouble yourself with such concerns. I have far more refined pursuits than scheming and orchestrating another's downfall. As I've already told you, my purpose is far grander—I am here to witness history unfold before my very eyes. And, of course, to secure a most suitable wife."
Kai blinked. "I thought you were joking. You're actually looking for a wife at a coronation?"
"Why not, indeed? Efficiency is adored by the nobility," Oro mused with a dramatic sigh. "But alas, my heart yearns for both beauty and intelligence—a rare and challenging combination to find, I must confess."
Kai shook his head, he wasn't sure if he should feel pity or provide encouragement. "Sounds complicated."
"Indeed, everything in noble society is a game," Oro said with a sly smile, leaning back and closing his eyes. "But, of course, that is precisely what makes it so entertaining."
As the train steadily approached Brelith, the soft glow of thaumaturgic lights bathed the landscape in an ethereal radiance, casting shadows that shifted and danced across the terrain. The city emerged on the horizon, its distant silhouette etched against the inky sky. Above, the pale stars—muted by the light—watched their progress, their faint glow barely perceptible through the cloudy skies.
Oro glanced out the window, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. "Ah, Brelith," he murmured, his tone distant, almost nostalgic. "Even the journey here holds its own wonder. There's a tunnel, you see, a magnificent one. It stretches all the way into the heart of Brelith, deep beneath the city. It was constructed during the reign of the last Léveque, a true marvel of both architecture and engineering. I had hoped to witness it again after all these years."
Kai blinked, unsure how to respond. He had never been to Brelith before, and the mention of a tunnel was little more than a passing curiosity. But Oro seemed lost in thought, his eyes glinting with a scholarly excitement at the mention of it.
However, as the train drew closer to its destination, a sudden jolt interrupted the moment. They began to slow, and the lights outside illuminated the area as they approached a large, stone archway.. Guards stood at attention, lined up along the perimeter of the train with swords at the ready.
Oro's face darkened slightly, a faint frown tugging at his lips. "I didn't expect this. A security stop right before the tunnel? This is new." He sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat. "Hammond must've insisted on it after the assassination. He doesn't strike me as one to take chances. I wonder how this will affect trade."
Kai watched as several guards began moving toward the train, checking passengers one by one. The tension in the air was palpable, and even Oro seemed unusually subdued. The train's usual bustling energy had been replaced with a tense silence as they awaited their turn.
Oro muttered something under his breath, almost to himself. "It's a shame, really. Used to be, the train would glide straight through, no stops, a perfect marriage of thaumaturgic advancements and architectural beauty. But now, with all the unrest, Hammond's made sure the security is... excessive."
As one of the guards approached, Oro leaned closer to Kai, his voice low and urgent. "Listen carefully—when they ask, don't use your last name. Vander. It might cause problems." He scanned the cabin quickly, his tone dropping even further. "It's better if you say you're from somewhere else. They'll get suspicious if you mention a town they've never heard of."
Kai nodded, feeling a mixture of confusion and unease. "It is real though," he whispered back.
"I believe you," Oro glanced quickly toward the approaching guard. "Better safe than sorry. Trust me on this. It's not worth the risk of being detained right before the ball. It's better if they think you're just another commoner passing through."
The guard gave a cursory glance at Oro before nodding. He started to move away, when his gaze shifted to Kai. He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the unfamiliar face. Without a word, he stepped forward, closing the distance.
"Name," the guard demanded, his voice gruff and authoritative.
Kai's heart raced in his chest. The pressure of the moment hit him, and his mouth went dry. "I'm… Kai Limdal," he blurted out, panic creeping into his voice.
The guard's eyes flickered at the name, and his brow furrowed. "Limdal? Up near Northgate? I hear they talk differently up there. You sound pretty normal to me," he remarked, eyeing Kai suspiciously.
"Whit? Jist because Ah'm frae Limdal, doesnae mean Ah can talk normal like the rest o' ye?" Kai stammered, attempting a crude imitation of Patty's accent. His throat clenched in discomfort, and he cringed internally at how forced it sounded.
The guard leaned in a little, squinting at him. "Aye?" His voice grew skeptical, his gaze sharpening. "You sure you're from Limdal, boy? Never heard anyone sound quite like you from there before. That accent's... suspicious."
Kai felt the heat rise in his face as the seconds stretched on. The guard was still staring at him, waiting for something. He had no idea what more to say. "Uh... I... I was raised by my aunt. She—she told me how to speak like the others."
Oro stiffened next to him, his lips pressing together as if suppressing a laugh. He coughed lightly before speaking, directing his attention to the guard. "You know, some do get a bit of a mix-up of accents sometimes. Not every Limdalian sounds like a street brawler." His tone was smooth, attempting to ease the tension. "Perhaps you're just not as attuned to the finer subtleties of their dialect."
The guard scratched the back of his head, still eyeing Kai. "Hmm, well... could be. My apologies then," he muttered, backing away with a raised hand. "Didn't mean to offend. Just makes a fellow curious, is all."
Kai exhaled in relief, his chest finally releasing the tight knot that had formed. "Uh, yeah... no harm done."
Oro, glancing at Kai with a hint of amusement in his eyes, spoke under his breath, "Maybe you are cut out for the theater." He chuckled softly, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Damn near scared me when you started speaking though. Might need to work on the accent a little more before you're ready for the big stage."
"Uh, thanks…" Kai muttered, still shaken by the exchange. "But what's a theater? You had mentioned it before."
Oro blinked, a little taken aback by the question. "It's like I don't even know you! You are a curious person." He laughed, shaking his head. "Well, this stop will take a while yet. I'll fill you in on the magic of the theater."