Though he didn’t know it at the time, something big was expected of Victor von Mylne and the others; they could hardly guess as to what this thing was, but somehow they knew that for their entire lives they had been preparing for it. Or perhaps a better word to describe this plight would be studying, as they were only students after all. Young Victor and his companions belonged to an academy, of sorts, but this was no ordinary school. This academy then belonged to a mysterious man known only as Silver, the Man of Immortality.
Mr. Silver was wise and prestigious, known to many who lived in the Southeast Pass of Haswhald and yet recognised by few. In appearance, he was neither young nor old (though he ought to have expired many years ago) as he spoke with the wisdom of a seer but danced with the vigour of a young man. What it was, no doubt, that threw people off was the hair, long and smooth, his silver locks glistened, in a peculiar way, like moonlight sweeping over the calm sea. His eyes were the pale grey of a cloudy winter morning.
This description was Mr. Silver as he was known to Rodrick Branner, who was a chief member of the academy and a dear companion to Silver. Unfortunately, on a crisp afternoon in December poor Rodrick became the bearer of bad news: a shadow had fallen over the academy, and in Mr. Silver’s grand office this news was reported.
“Sir, the news is good and bad,” Rodrick reported, though quite heavily. “The recent attacks on the Central City have at last ceased. The main force of the enemy broke like water upon the walls of the academy, though they did inflict quite some damage before they were scattered. It was as you said, a strange alliance of greater witches and dark ones, such as I have never seen before. This is no doubt troubling news.”
Silver turned from where he had been watching the city below through a window. His grey eyes were tired. “As it should be,” he commented. “This is a time to fear for the worst. We both know well enough that witches do not move in numbers, dark ones perhaps but not witches; nor should they willingly make their ghastly presence known. Some catalyst has inflicted this change, an investigation will be required, but for now tell me of the damage to the academy.”
“In total, twelve members were slain, but thankfully none of the younger students were harmed.” He paused, as if he were unsure of how to continue.
“Go on,” Silver urged.
Rodrick tried to meet his eyes. “Alexander passed away in the night; our healers did what they could but his wounds were grave. Perhaps if we—”
“There is nothing we could have done,” said Silver. He sat at his desk and a sad smile touched his lips. “I feel dear Alex longed for death in the end. He was you tutor, no?”
“Yes sir, he personally walked me though the Path of Enlightenment; he and his companions.”
“And yet since then his companions have all fallen while he remained.”
“Is that it, then?” Rodrick wondered aloud. “A Slayer’s retirement?”
“You’ve been a Slayer yourself for only nineteen years,” Silver said. “You are yet to understand the tolls of eternity.”
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