The Sovereign of Plasma

Rhazin found a small town nearly five hours later. He would have used a Voidgate, but he had no idea where he was. Though it was probably the isle of Murdos, Rhazin wouldn’t take that chance of shooting himself somewhere else. The last time he had done that, he had nearly been killed by Great Lizards. Luckily, Rhazin’s master had followed and saved him. Rhazin still had nightmares from seeing the fearsome creatures.

Pulling his mind from his memories, Rhazin examined the village. Even though his wounds had stopped bleeding, he still needed a doctor to examine them. Yet, he would not walk into a populated area without first checking it out. Faerein’s influence went far, so it wouldn’t be that unnatural for soldiers of the kingdom to be searching for him here.

After a while, Rhazin decided that the village was safe. He walked, or limped to be more precise, into the small area. Many people just glanced his way. A traveler wasn’t unnatural in Murdos. Traveling was actually encouraged, from what Rhazin had been told. The people believed in being healthy and explorative. It was somewhat odd. Why would so many people wish to leave their home to travel to potentially dangerous places?

Then again, Murdos had her elite Heron Guard that traveled everywhere stopping any crime they could find. Most criminals killed themselves before they were caught, for Murdos was a merciless ruler and she ordered her Heron Guard to torture any criminals found. Sure, thieves were simply made to pay a fine, but if you were caught killing, harming, or especially raping someone, you would be tortured for days before finally being killed. It was horrible.

Some people ran up to him when they finally spotted his bloodsoaked and ripped cloak along with his limp. For some reason, his strength started to fade as a man helped him stand up straight. How much blood had Rhazin lost in the past few hours? His head grew fuzzy and his body went limp.

‘Ahh,’ Rhazin thought as his world went dark, ‘the weather is lovely.’

-

Rhazin awoke to several worried faces. They were dressed in grey robes, so they were obviously gifted with the use of Plasma, another of the nine mystics. Plasma could heal the user and others they touched, so it was a blessing to any who were lucky enough to be born with it, though they may not know they are even on their deathbed. For some reason, Plasma only showed signs in situations of extreme fear. Rhazin might have it himself.

“Ahh, so he’s awake?” a voice said. It came from beside him. Turning his head, Rhazin saw an elderly man with his hair wrapped around his waist. An Immortal, here? It was odd, but Rhazin had seen odder over the last day. Immortals were supposed to be Master ranked Plasma users, so it was no wonder an immortal would work as a docter.

“What happened?” Rhazin asked, already knowing the answer.

“You passed out from blood loss yesterday,” the man said, looking tired. He must have been up all night replenishing Rhazin's blood with his Plasma mystics. The man was admirable. Not many Mounseiken could use their mystic for more than an hour straight. Though, Master's of a mystic were suppose to be more powerful than regular users. Rhazin himself wasn't even a master of his birth mystic of Flame.

“Thank you for the assistance, Master,” Rhazin said as he sat up. He needed to get going so he could beg Murdos for a spot in the Great Race. “I fear I have no way to repay you.”

The man raised his eyebrow when Rhazin stood, causing Rhazin to fear he had offended the man. “Why don't you try putting on clothes. Some of my apprentices are not men, you know,” he said./

Rhazin blushed and realized he was naked. Why hadn't he noticed it earlier? He still felt weak, so it may have been that. Rhazin quickly pulled the cover off the bed he had been on and covered himself. The female apprentices laughed when they noticed his red face. Rhazin just blushed harder and focused on finding his clothes.

“I got rid of that old robe,” the Master said, “why don't you put these on.” He handed Rhazin a folded up stack of clothing. When Rhazin looked toward the apprentices, mainly toward the famale ones, the old man yelled for them to leave. The females giggled and left, followed by the boys. Rhazin didn't think he would turn back to his pale color for quite some time. Scarred Father, why was he so awkward with women?

“I would like to know, master,” Rhazin asked as he dressed himself, “why does one such as you have so many apprentices?” The older man just laughed. Apparently Rhazin was ignorant of some common fact. That was odd. Rhazin knew much about the world through his own master's teachings. He was complemented on his knowledge constantly every time he showed it. Not knowing was what bothered Rhazin.

“A sovereign of Plasma must find a worthy apprentice, don't you think?” the old man said. This was the Sovereign of Plasma!? Rhazin felt awed and out of place at the same time. He bowed immediately and offered his apologies. He hoped he had not offended this man. Not many people could get away with doing such a thing.

“Please,” the Sovereign said through his laughter, “it's quite alright. I deal with injured people daily.”

“But, still,” Rhazin said, “I acted as if you were my equal, yet you are one of the nine Sovereigns.”

“Haha, the others are strict and uptight,” he said, causing Rhazin to go rigid, “I am not like them at all. So long as I can heal people, I am never insulted.” Rhazin was confused on what he should do. The meager looks of the shack he was in looked like a regular doctor's house, yet the Scarred Sovereign of Plasma was here!?

“I apologize for any offense, nonetheless,” Rhazin said before straightening, “I also apologize for not being able to pay you back.”

The Sovereign, Rhazin seemed to remember his name being Heric, got a curious look in his eye at the mention of payment. Rhazin did not want to spend the money his master had left him, but if he had to, then Rhazin would do so. “How did you survive an attack from a serpent?” Sovereign Heric said curiously.

Rhazin stared at him for a moment. It was suspicious. Either Rhazin was more powerful than he let on, possibly a danger, or he had been unnaturally lucky. Rhazin wouldn't feel right about lying to a sovereign though, so he had little choice. “It wasn't attacking me,” he said simply.

“I see,” the man said slowly. It seemed like he was probing Rhazin with his eyes. Or his mind. This man must be a user of Telekenetic mystics as well. Usually Mounseiken were gifted with at least three of the nine mystics, so it wouldn't be surprising to find this man capable of using Telekenetic mystics.

Of course, Telekenetic, or Telepathic, users weren't very rare. Usually the extent of their power was a bit of mind reading at close range and being able to tell whether someone lied or not. It wasn't something Rhazin could do, so he wasn't sure exactly, he just knew it wasn't a very dangerous mystic.

“If you don't mind, Sovereign,” Rhazin said with another bow, “I must be on my way.”

“Good luck in the Great Race,” Sovereign Heric said when Rhazin headed for the door, “It's dangerous, so be careful.”

“Thank you, Sovereign,” Rhazin said, ignoring his surprise. He guessed the man really was a Telepathic user.

As Rhazin let the flap of the doctor's house open, he was nearly blinded by sunlight. Why was it so bright on these islands? Sure, his own homeland was a desert with intense heat and sunlight, but here was somehow hotter and more bright. It was unnatural.

Kids came from the other side of the dusty street, all of them asking if he was better. Rhazin smiled and told them he was fine. It was odd to have stranger's actually care for his health. In Faerein that was as common as a markless man. Meaning there was none really. After all, what Mounseiken man didn't have their unique marks? Rhazin's own was in the shape of a cresent moon.

“So, the sleeping beast awakes,” a female voice said. Rhazin turned to see one of the female apprentices walking toward him. She had silver hair and a body that made Rhazin have to force his eyes away. Why did women torture him so?

“I thank you madam, for your help in my recovery,” Rhazin said with a bow.

“I did nothing, though it is a nice gesture,” she said in a sweet voice that reminded Rhazin of Monstroth's sister. Of course, Rhazin would never admit his liking of Hera to Monstroth. His friend would probably put Rhazin in his place.

“Then, I thank you for your presence, for surely it helped,” Rhazin said as earnestly as he could.

“Well, your welcome, handsome,” the woman said, bowing back. Rhazin felt odd. He had never been given honor by a woman before.

“I... I am sorry, but... I must be going, madam,” Rhazin stammered. He really needed to stop having conversations with women. It was nothing but embarrassing.

The End

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