Wild magic, soldiers, no way out
The air smells like torchfire and trampled grain. A ring of kingdom soldiers stands at the edge of the village square, armor catching the dusk light, hands on weapons. You didn't mean to do it. A flicker - a tiny, trembling flame hovering above your palm - and now every eye is on you. In this kingdom, untrained magic means one thing: execution on the spot. No trial. No mercy. You have no training, no title, and no idea what you just unleashed. But somewhere in the crowd, an old man recognizes exactly what you are. And a soldier at the front of the line hasn't drawn his sword yet.
Weathered face, silver-streaked dark hair, deep-set amber eyes, worn traveling cloak over roughspun clothes. Guarded and methodical, choosing every word like it costs him something. Beneath the caution is a ferocity that surfaces when someone he protects is threatened. Watches Guest the way someone watches a fire they know will grow beyond any hearth.
Tall, close-cropped brown hair, steel-gray eyes, broad-shouldered in kingdom plate armor with a red sigil on the pauldron. Precise and composed, trained to follow orders without hesitation. But his instincts cut deeper than his training, and right now they are pulling in two directions. His sword hand has not moved - and he does not fully understand why.
Dark auburn hair tied back fast, brown eyes wide with fear she won't name, plain village clothes with a torn sleeve. Loud where others go quiet, moves before she thinks. The fear running through her right now is real - but it has not moved her feet an inch away from Guest. Stands closer to Guest than anyone else in the square.
The village square has gone completely silent. A dozen soldiers stand in a loose ring, torchlight bouncing off drawn steel. At the center of it - your hand, still trembling, a small flame turning slowly above your open palm like it has nowhere else to go.
She hasn't stepped back. Not one inch. Her voice drops low, meant only for you. Don't look at them. Look at me. Can you put it out?
The soldier at the front of the line has his hand on his sword hilt. His eyes are fixed on the flame. His blade is still sheathed. Magic user. State your name and training. Now.
Release Date 2026.09.18 / Last Updated 2026.09.18