Chương 1: The Magician

A high-pitched screech rang across the endless desert.

"SKREEEEEEEE!" A boy wearing simple farmer clothes and an oversized helmet trembled as the cry persisted, each shrill note tearing into his brain. The noise amplified. The boy fell onto one knee atop the stationary floating disk as he took deep, heavy breaths. A last-ditch attempt to hold on to his consciousness. With him, a dozen people clutched their identical helmets, struggling not to give in to the terrible noise. Only one man stood firm.

He alone wore no helmet, revealing short charcoal hair and a distinct goatee. His attire was simple, a white linen shirt and plain white trousers, yet the prestigious ferrum emblem on his chest, engraved with the symbol of a dagger, marked him as anything but a simple man. Arlo sighed. This boy… Ah, he's the one his father sold to us for just 400 Riak. No wonder he doesn't have the mental fortitude to continue. His eyes shifted past the boy and into the distant horizon. Desolate.

In every direction, sand was violently rumbling around. No life could be sustained in such an unforgiving environment. Even the rocks had been whittled down to dust over time. The shrieking compounded in on itself as the volume increased to impossible levels. The real danger of the desert came from the deep, unnatural tremors and shifting sand, but atop the floating disk, simply a strong body or a strong willpower was enough to survive.

He glanced over at the rest of the group, who looked to be faring well, better than the farmer boy at least. Some, like the struggling boy, hadn't quite had a choice, but most had sought out enlistment on their own. One of them stood out, the street magician who had joined the group at the last second, running away from something. He was faring surprisingly well despite his frail body. Arlo had honestly expected him to be the first to fall. The world stopped shaking.

For a reason unknown even to Arlo, the tremors always started and ended just before the shrieking, but as far as Danger Zones went, this one was quite tame. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. And as expected, a few seconds later, the shrieking stopped as well. Arlo approached the boy, whose life energy seemed all but spent, and checked his pulse. He had held on.

With a grin, he waved his hands around to reveal a floating, pulsing green orb which radiated the feeling of safety. It slowly drifted closer and closer until it was finally absorbed into the boy.

"You did well," he said, giving the boy a light pat on the back.

"Just ninety killometres to go." The boy weakly nodded his head as he let the rest of the orb enter his body, his eyes containing a blank hopelessness that Arlo was all too familiar with. The boy wouldn't make it. He turned to the rest of the group. Their shock had faded, and he shaped a shining blue orb with complicated stands of thin lines travelling along its surface to address their minds directly. [That last wave went much longer than average, so I expect we have about an hour to the next. Rest up!] The crowd shook their heads and braced. They had gotten used to this little routine, and the disk quickly accelerated to top speed. They took their helmets off with a sigh. Some admired the vastness of the desert, a few started up small conversations, and most lay flat on their back cursing their past selves for bringing themself here. In each of their minds, the promise of a better future forced them to hold on, just for a little longer.

If they managed to escape this Danger Zone, then maybe, just maybe, they could become an esteemed soldier of the Imperium Tempor. Maybe, just maybe, their futures would open up with opportunity. One young man, the street magician, stood out as he slowly moved from his spot, swaying as he breathed. The removal of his helmet revealed a face carved by hunger. Sharp, hollowed cheekbones split on one side by a jagged white line of a scar. His wavy auburn hair was the colour of dried blood, matching his intense eyes.

A faded tailcoat, once a deep midnight blue, hung from his narrow frame, its tattered fabric worn over a rumpled waistcoat concealing hidden pockets. With every step across the floating disk, the heavy pouch at his hip gave a muffled clink of coins and cards, but his strides remained focused as he made way with eyes filled with a certain confidence. Arriving at his destination, he kneeled down to the trembling boy with a soft smile, took out his pack of cards and began wildly shuffling them.

"What's your name?" He asked, continuing to shuffle, the cards dancing in the air. The boy jolted from his daze. He looked at the magician blankly, his mind elsewhere. Finally, he replied weakly:"L-Leo." Suddenly, all the cards were brought to the magician's right hand. He spread them out evenly in front of him.

"Let me show you something cool." Leo looked at the magician, whose gaze shifted between him and the cards, with confusion. He had never played cards before. On occasion, his father would play it with his friends, but Leo had never been allowed to join in. Regretting never listening to the rules, he continued awkwardly staring at the cards, waiting for something to happen. The magician cleared his throat after a few seconds and clarified with a practiced ease and a forced enthusiasm.

"Pick a card, Leo. And do me a favor: don't tell me which one!"