Manifest War: The Weapons Within

Waters rushing, birds chirping with a playful cadence, winds fervently howling, and the searing heat from the sun. The alternate world of Alaira, much like our own, was filled with beauty and wonder as far as the eyes could see. While on the surface things may have seemed familiar, underneath was where this world began to differ.

At the very heart and center of Alaira, there laid a crystal-like core. This core provided all power and energy for every living thing on the surface. This energy was seemingly infinite and plentiful; thus, resources were shared by all fairly equally. However, the core provided another power at a not so equal rate.

Within this world, people of all races and even some wildlife obtained unique abilities. These abilities were generated directly from the Core upon their birth and the skills they obtained were based on one of the twelve affinities passed down in their family.

Once these special skills were fully cultivated at the tender age of sixteen, the individual would go on a journey to realize their full potential. Going through many unknown trials and tribulations would reveal their true self and thus awaken the full extent of the Core Energy dwelling inside them.

As the Core of Alaira recognized their efforts, it would bestow upon them a Manifest. Manifests are the tangible, weapon-like form of their abilities. Swords, shields, spears, amulets, rings, tools of all kinds can become Manifests, propelling their strength to dangerously new heights. Once this weapon was obtained, the individual could officially become what’s known as a Vesta, A skilled adventurer or warrior. The name referred to the searing, yet comforting heat many would feel when summoning forth their Manifest.

However, as grand and illustrious this seemed, not all Vesta’s were given the Core of Alaira’s energy evenly. The strongest warrior from a highly decorated bloodline could be given a miniscule amount, while a commoner born of nothing could have immense power. For whatever reason, the Core of Alaira did not discriminate when giving out its energy.

Many scholars believed that the delivery of power was an absolute dice roll, as though decided at complete random. Others assumed it was determined by accomplishments in a past life or the season at which one was born. No one truly knew, as this was one of the few inconsistent aspects of the Core of Alaira.

As with anything that wasn’t equal, people within this world would try to exploit this imbalance. All of the six nations on the Resotera Continent tried to nurture as many strong awakened Vestas, adding them to their ranks and strengthening their nation. Some nations were better at handling this than others, but they were all guilty of wanting to have the most powerful individuals on their side.

Wars and regional conflicts were lost and won by this clear lack of equality. Currently, there was relative peace between the nations, however, only time could tell how long this would remain the case.

Evening fell outside of the mountainous region of Melspire, the northernmost nation on the Resotera continent. The sun kissed the edge of the rocky terrain off in the distance, outlining the tallest peak in all of Alaira, Mount Delvain. Riding through the winding paths of the mountain's base was a convoy of horse drawn carriages, rushing back towards the nation’s border.

The middle carriage was decorated with a gorgeous black and gold aesthetic, radiating in the ever increasing moonlight. The horses pulling it along were all white with black markings along their spines and their long manes flowed with each powerful gallop.

Inside the carriage sat Allen and Janelle Belouis, King & Queen of Volaire, the central nation. They were returning home from a week-long meeting with the Melspire King, Jonn Ravenfell. During this meeting many things were discussed, including a new military proposal that would propel their respective nations to new heights.

"King Ravenfell seemed quite enthusiastic about the proposal you offered. I wonder how long he’ll think it over." Janelle softly wondered, looking out at the towering, cloud covered mountain in the distance.

"Of course he'd be enthusiastic, my dear. This plan would significantly lower the trade tax they pay us in exchange for more weaponry and armor. It's a win-win for both parties. Our military could use the boost in strength and their nation could use the additional funding." Allen Belouis replied, resting his chin on his fist.

He shifted his weight and took hold of Janelle's hand, kissing it gently while glaring up at her with his fiery red eyes. Allen’s silver haired stubble tickled her knuckle, causing her to lightly chuckle from the affectionate display.

"Everything we've worked so hard for is finally paying off in spades. With 'The Six' on our side and now Melspire, Volaire will be catapulted above the other five nations. Not to mention having Azhane as well, we should be solidified for years." Allen commented with a smile, admiring the beauty of his wife.

Janelle warmly smiled back while tucking her long brown hair behind her ear. Allen sat up and she leaned in to kiss him on the lips. After their embrace, Janelle's tone shifted to a more serious one.

"As much as I agree with your words, I don't like it when you bring up our eldest daughter as though she were a weapon. You know that we shouldn’t rope her into our plans."

"You're right... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought Azhane up. It's just that she's so impossible for others to ignore. It would be unwise to not keep her abilities as a Vesta in mind." Allen replied, his expression softening as he walked back his prior statement.

“I understand what you're saying, but... It's just that we’ve done so much to clean up her image. We can’t carelessly get her involved in our affairs anymore. It would erase all the progress we’ve made...”

Janelle’s tone was very direct and despite her being second to the King, Allen listened to every word with great intent. The carriage grew quiet as he contemplated her response, not having much of a rebuttal to give.

"When we make it back to Ariana City, we should call everyone home. It's been so long since I've seen all of our lovely daughters together." Janelle said, breaking the silence with her soft and loving voice. The previously heavy mood shifted as she smiled at the thought, imagining the whole royal family being together again.

"Of course. I'll tell Nadine to get on that once we return home."

Suddenly, the ground began to violently shake. Rocks from the mountains above fell down with incredible speed and force, colliding with the convoy of carriages. It was as though a torrential downpour of boulders cascaded from the very heavens above.

The scene grew frantic as horses swerved and fell over, unable to react in time at the unforeseen destruction. Within a few short moments the entire convoy was wiped out completely, crushing and burying them all underneath a deep pile of large stones and rubble.

The debris-covered road sat eerily silent, signaling that no one had made it out alive. However, after a few minutes, the ground shook violently again. Multiple boulders flew upward from the destroyed path, crashing off into the nearby trees. Allen Belouis had emerged from the rubble, covered in crimson blood and deep bruises.

His hand was extended outward and upon his wrist was a purple, glowing bracelet. The trinket had a multitude of runic letters etched around it and embedded on the top was a singular, deep purple jewel. This trinket was King Belouis’ Manifest, Anatomy Bend. A weapon capable of providing the wielder with shapeshifting abilities.

He forced his Core Energy into it, causing his hand to grow and shift into a dark purple blade. King Belouis began to slice and cut through the rocks frantically, desperately trying to find his wife. His newly crafted blade was proving to be incredibly sharp, slicing through stone with zero resistance.

"Janelle!!!! Janelle!!!" He called out with an anguished plea.

His cries echoed loudly along the mountainous valley around him, carrying far off into the silent distance. Allen heard no response from anyone as he hysterically cut his way through the jagged rocks, growing more worried by the second.

Allen sliced through another boulder and finally found his Queen, partially crushed by an adjacent massive rock. Her body laid hauntingly still. Despite his loud calls and judging by the large amount of blood around her, it was clear that she was no longer alive. His tears began to trickle down at a rapid rate, mixing with the dark red pool beneath him.

“No, No, NO!!!” He yelled, in absolute disbelief by what he saw and not wanting to accept this new reality.

Allen grabbed hold of her cold hand and gripped it tightly, shaking his head with great sadness. His world had been completely flipped upside down in such a short amount of time and no amount of foresight could have prepared him for this tragedy.

The King continued to cry out with immense pain, but as he grieved he sensed something quickly approaching his location. He dropped Janelle’s hand and swiftly stood up with tears still in his eyes. Before he could even turn around and react to the presence behind him, a blade went straight through his chest. He slowly glanced down to see an intricate and curved, black sword gleaming in the moonlight.

Allen coughed up a substantial amount of blood as the sword forcefully exited his heart, making a gruesome sloshing sound as it spilled onto the ground. He dropped to his knees and fell face flat, perishing next to his wife. The last thing he saw before passing on was the blurry silhouette of an individual with a blank, white face.

The road grew terrifyingly quiet once more as the mysterious individual entered the darkness of the nearby treeline, disappearing in the shadows.