Isabel was a witch; she dabbled in typical witchcraft – potions and spells. When she was recognised to be proficient, she had been quickly taken in by a powerful master, who taught her everything he knew. Isabel was thankful to this master even now, as she would never have heard the stories that were whispered into her ears if not for him.
Once she left the master, having grown into an adult, she went to the Cornucopia. And even at the centre of wizardry and witchcraft she flourished, she had started out as a battlemage for the armies, quickly garnering a reputation and bucket loads of coin. After many years, she resigned.
She had been facing yet another promotion, to be the Queen's right-hand mage. A reputable position that none would turn down. None except for her. As a general, she was free. She was given control over her own people, but none controlled her. That was the way she liked it.
So – when faced with the most respectable position a wizard or witch could acquire, she resigned. Ironic, isn't it? The most skilled at controlling their magic lose entirely the control and free will they had before.
So, she left, leaving the Cornucopia. She had tried to stay, but the citizens spurned her, everyone recognised her and everyone despised her.
She left to a distant city, a unique city. As despite the distance from the throbbing heart of the kingdom, it flourished. For one fact: magic.
Magic was ever-present in this city, even more so than in the Cornucopia. This was all thanks to the Guild.
There were many guilds in Shibudon, but when speaking of the Guild, it was obvious what was being referred to.
The Obsidian Syndicate. Commonly referred to as the Guild, as they were the first ever Guild and the most powerful. Even with the rising stars of the last few generations slowly closing in on them.
They were everywhere, in the blackened walls of shops, the midnight shade of rock used to pave the roads. It seemed everything and everyone in the city lived and breathed obsidian. Desperate to prove their loyalty by dedicating a black permanence upon themselves.
Isable walks through these roads, the dark rocks beneath her feet seem regularly cleaned, as there was no way they could be kept in these conditions without regularly scheduled cleansing – this was the main road into the city after all.
She walks with the thin crowd, wandering into the city, eyes darting around, absorbing everything. Despite the morose undertones of the place, it was undeniably beautiful. The tall buildings that stretched to the sky, grasping for the distant heavens. The expertly crafted bricks each wall was made from, it seemed an obsessed sort of care was put into each brick, expertly and perfectly chiselled to fit into their place.
Everyone was starting at the buildings, at the people – sort of. For a lot of denizens of this city were not human. Just as she thought of this, a bull-headed man at least a foot taller than her tall frame stalked powerfully past her, the movements of the person seemed slow and lackadaisical, and yet the pace of the beast was at least twice hers, the long, thick legs carrying the thing farther than she could possibly go with one stride.
She watched the tall, bulky man as he walked with long strides, rounding a corner, her eyes drifted to a distant wall – the one that surrounded the entire city. The one made with perfect precision. It had to be about 70 feet tall, and as she had walked through the entryway, she noted that it was about 10 metres thick. An absurd amount of work and stone had been put into the wall.
Seemingly absurd, and yet the wall was probably what allowed the city to flourishing, the Guild to last so long, and the Obsidian Syndicate to grow so powerful. Everything hope and dream the Guild had had was placed in each one of those bricks, the perfect bricks.
She walked deeper, following the road into what was a city square. There were significantly more people in this extremely large expanse, lined with stalls and shops.
In the centre was a statue of a man riding a winged horse, waving a sword in the air, a large grin on his face.
And just in front of it was the largest stall of them all, containing the most interesting products. She walked over, joining by far the largest crowd. She pushed through, gently, imperceptibly as she almost casually walked to the front of the crowd, where the merchandise could be seen in close quarters, unmanned.
All that was there were a few informational signs, not anything telling people not to mess with the merchandise, it seemed a silent law. No one would dare.
She read the sign.
All merchandise shown before you will be sold in the auction, these being the least valuable. More will come in auction. Ready your coffers.
A bold statement, telling people to come with all the money they could muster. She smiled to herself as she looked up from the lone sign, starting past at the two cages behind it.
Two cages the size of buildings, the bars as thick as the minotaur she had seen before. And inside were two sleeping monstrosities.
One, a black mess of scales, tinged with red, curled around itself, the length of its body was astounding, the muscles rippled underneath the dense scales as it breathed slowly, it's exhales creating a gust that whipped people's hair into a frenzy.
An absolutely humongous snake lay before her, twisted into itself as it was squeezed into the cage.
And in the cage next to it, lay another sleeping titan. This one different, but no less terrifying. It was an insectoid, a beetle. It was hunkered down like a tank, it's golden carapace glistening in the blazing suns, this was an impenetrable fortress made into a living thing.
And these were the starters.