Marion walked through the Territory of Ice, a subtle frown knitting his features.
’Hot...’
It was way too hot!
He wasn’t like those ice-cold beauties from the Frost Clan - he had no magic power which helped him offset the heat!
Sweat matted his forehead and clung to his skin like a second layer.
It was stifling, even after he had made the choice to wear lighter clothing.
Eventually, Marion gave up on trying to look good.
’Hmph.’
All around him, the Territory of Ice sprawled in all its scorching splendour.
Pale-white buildings dominated the puppeteer’s surroundings, with strange pale blue runes carved into the more lavish and well-built ones. If Marion had to guess, their purpose was two fold; to cool down the house and also retain its welco chill.
His athyst gaze roved over a mundane couple who wrung a few wet, worn cloths, before placing them in a barrel beside the path. Seconds later, a group of children made a beeline for the old keg and placed the fabric atop their heads, sighing in relief as they cooled down.
Water droplets seed to shimr in the hazy air.
A twinge of envy pricked Marion’s heart.
However, he didn’t let the jealousy fester... both because it’d be unbecoming of him to envy little children, and because they were obviously not that well off if they were mundane.
Releasing a complicated sigh and banishing any lingering ghosts from his past, the handso youth pressed on. As he travelled, his ears picked up on the slow, mournful note of Ice, and the strange blearing of several mountain goats.
His nose, anwhile, picked up on the sll of refreshing juice, and his feet stepped on hard-baked earth, dried and cracked from prolonged exposure to the sun. These tiny, minuscule cracks webbed through the ground like vast spiderwebs.
The earth was clearly in dire need of so moisture.
Alas...
Here in the Territory of Ice, the sun was rciless, its harsh rays beating down on everyone without rest. Marion licked his dry lips. Without hesitation, he flicked a silver coin into the air and instructed one of his puppets to bring him so juice.
The swift blur - a small sparrow - zipped through the air, and landed on a vendor’s stall.
The rchant, a middle-aged woman, blinked in surprise.
Then, her expression imdiately lted.
"You poor thing!"
Under his amused gaze, the vendor rushed to slake the thirst of his puppet. The handso youth gave the little sparrow a few monts to drink, before he gently ordered it to return.
The small bird obliged.
It chirped at the kind vendor, then zipped through the air, carrying the small wooden cup with its beak.
A mont later, it landed on Marion’s palm.
The puppeteer gently thanked his little sparrow, before instructing it to return to its post.
The creature peeped as it flew away, its adorable figure a swift blur.
Marion titled his head back and gulped down the small drink.
A cool, refreshing sensation travelled down his throat for the briefest mont.
Then, it was gone, rcilessly devoured by his parched body, and replaced with familiar thirst. Marion smacked his lips, hoping the taste of freshly squeezed juice would linger for a little while to co.
Unfortunately, for him...
It, too, was gone in a flash.
Masking his disappointnt, the handso youth winked at the stunned rchant as he returned the cup before resuming his journey. Far into the horizon, an incalculable distance away, several enormous mountain peaks blotted out the sky.
Their surface seed shrouded in a fiery glow, countless lines marring their expanse like the veins of a harrowing beast. anwhile, their colossal edifice rose sharply, as if wishing to seal off the other side of the world.
Staring at the solemn visage of the Pyre Peaks, Marion couldn’t help but shiver. Sothing about the enormous peaks unsettled him greatly - it gave off an aura of absolute dread.
The gargantuan scale of it all also did not help.
Marion closed his eyes and inhaled a lungful of dry, scorching air.
Then, he grimaced. A bitter smile played on his lips.
Ignoring the sight of the Pyre Peaks looming far in the distance, he shook his head and focused, recalling the directions he had been given. His destination was a little off the main path, located in a barren area, marked by the presence of a single, arid, withered tree.
As he veered off the path, weaving through back alleys and seldom travelled walkways, a quiet sense of anticipation welled within Marion’s bones. He couldn’t wait to beco a Paladin.
Not only would he receive esteem and status with the title, but it would also allow him to embark on missions. These postings were indeed dangerous, but they had the potential to be extrely rewarding.
Now that Marion no longer worked in his old profession, he had to search for another source of inco.
And what better way than the tried and tested thod of slaying Defiled?
Sure, there was so risk, but it was a lot less suspect and shady than his previous job.
Marion felt enough guilt already.
...He didn’t want to add any more burdens to his already heavy conscience.
First things first, before Marion could beco a true Paladin, he had to pass the second part of his Paladin Exam.
The thought of it excited him a little.
The puppeteer had already completed his combat assessnt, successfully displaying his proficiency in battle. It had been a tough battle, taking place just before the Inter-Sanctuary Tournant - which he had decided not to attend so he could look after a sick Lettie.
In the end, the assessnt had forced him to re-evaluate the way he fought.
After all, he was a support mage.
It would have been unreasonable for him to fend off a trio of Devils using such a fighting style. So, Marion was forced to adapt. Even though the group of Defiled had battered him and his puppets, it was a learning experience, and one that he very much appreciated.
Snapping out of his thoughts, the handso youth soon arrived at the barren plaza, and noticed a contingent of warriors already present. Marion spied a half dozen Stonewardens, a couple of Frost Clan mbers, and a healer.
All this was without taking into account "ordinary" examinees like him.
Quickening his stride, Marion reached the withered tree and nodded a greeting to the auburn-haired youth beside him.
Now, all he had to do was wait.
...Until, eventually, the last mber of their team arrived.
Staring at his familiar dirty-white hair, eyepatch, and the dark phoenix resting on his shoulder, Marion couldn’t mask his surprise.
What was the interesting rchant doing here?!
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