Tales from the Star Realm: Chapter I - Saphira, Witch of the Grey Age (Chapter I)

"Hey there, what are you chattering about? I hear you're gushing about an old sorceress? But is it really just a fairy tale you're so carelessly babbling about?"

A man spoke from a dark corner in an autumn forest, through which the evening light of the setting sun shimmered. He stepped into the light of the campfire and calmly looked around.

"Don't be startled, travelers. It's just me. A poor tramp in his old age. Do you perhaps have a small plate of soup and a piece of bread to spare for an old man? That would be lovely, for I haven't eaten in days."

The quirky old geezer was quite tall for his advanced age and hid a magnificent physique under his long coat. He already looked a bit aged.

He took a few steps towards the campfire, which had been built by young stone dwarves for cooking meat. More poorly than well, but it was supposed to last for a while.

"Isn't it the legendary enchantress, the oh-so-famous Witch of the Grey Age, who still haunts people's minds today?"

The man looked around and scoffed loudly: "But what do you know? Don't make me laugh, you little rascals!"

The dwarves were barely adults. They joked and drank a tankard of Brainfreeze. A concoction that only found favor with the stone dwarves of the region around the Southern Thunder Mountain of the Wrostlands. It was simply in the nature of stone dwarves to keep a cool head. Anyone who couldn't do that amidst the roaring clamor of such a merciless land as the Wrostlands quickly became a cheerful dwarf. That a Brainfreeze came with a certain alcohol content bothered most of them very little. On the contrary.

Southern Thunder Mountain of the Wrostlands: The southernmost lands. The only part of the Star Realm where the electrifying weather continuously vibrates, lashes, and hisses. With raging thunderstorms and roaring lightning, this is not a peaceful land where a human would want to settle with their children. It is an uncomfortable place where only a dwarf could feel at home.

Stone dwarves naturally possess lightning-rod-like, stony skin, through which the thunderstorms in their homeland cannot harm them much. But sometimes their skin unknowingly charges electrically, which always leads to trouble for younger dwarves.

The grim-looking man took a deep breath and began to speak to the group.

"Let an old man speak, who has seen more in his old age than you pests would care to have heard in your wet diapers during your lifetime," the man laughed surprisingly condescendingly yet cheerfully, seemingly enjoying the sound of his own words.

"That's just chatter. You can do nothing but babble!" the grey-haired man continued to scoff. "Listen carefully, for I will only tell it once."

The stranger sat down comfortably by the fire and warmed his tangled and unkempt hands.

The stone dwarves welcomed the human visitor, who was always gladly seen in dwarven circles.

The man's condescending manner had, of course, not escaped them. But there was nothing they hadn't already heard from an arrogant human in their young dwarven years. They respected a good, rhetorical exchange and enjoyed the variety the human brought to their small caravan.

"Saphira. That is her name. Oh yes, I remember well."

The dwarves listened to his soothing voice as they ate their roasted fish. The man seemed introspective. As if he were speaking from the deepest caverns of his memories. It sounded as if someone was freeing themselves from buried caves after a landslide, and for some inexplicable reason, he was doing so on this pleasant evening.

"Saphira is wondrous and an enigmatically mystical sorceress with two faces. Indeed unique in this world and not to be underestimated. So who is this woman who has been among us for more than a century and has made a name for herself throughout the land as the frosty sorceress?"

The man, whom life had marked, laid his worn-out staff aside. In its appearance, it resembled the enchanted staffs of the mages of Khalsur.

Khalsur: A dark human city on the western edge of the Star Realm with a strikingly tall watchtower and a stone ziggurat at its northern end. It is so densely forested that no ray of sunlight could ever reach the city. But on some nights, the icy rays of the Dark Moon manage to illuminate the city. Travelers speak of a haunting that is said to plague the area. Perhaps it is just the battle mages of Khalsur practicing secret rituals in their ziggurat.

The elderly gentleman's wooden friend had also seen better days, which matched his appearance and gave the man's dilapidated figure a certain expression and a touch of character. And yet he seemed like a sad figure, just waiting for his demise.

But not this night.

"Every day the sun shines, she serves as a sorceress. To the oh-so-powerful Order of the Star Crystal. Have you ever heard of it?"

It was more a rhetorical question, as he gave the dwarves no time to answer.

"The magical Order has always studied the mysteries of this rugged world, devoured by hatred, suffering, and sorrow. And it also incidentally ensures balance in the realm. If the balance went awry in past ages, it was always the Order that was there in time to stop the impending doom. And so it is still today when misfortune approaches. But you already know that, don't you?"

Although little was known about the secret ceremonies of the five Arch-Sorceresses who met once a year at the darkest hour of the winter solstice, everyone in the northern part of the Star Realm knew the name of the Order and the names of the five Arch-Sorceresses.

"But beware. The Order of the Star Crystal is only a shaky pillar on which the world can stand like a child. So much is certain," the old man yawned.

"But I must also admit that its work is immensely important. If the Order didn't exist, there would have been no Star Realm for a long time today. And you good dwarves wouldn't be able to enjoy this disgusting concoction. That much would be certain," the old man pondered, gazing into the blazing firewood.

Narsi, the youngest dwarf in the caravan, felt addressed and looked at his bearded companions with a frown. But the fish tasted too good for him to pay too much attention to the man.

"And just as well-known as the Order itself are its members, of whom there are only a handful of mysterious figures who even possess the power to be admitted to those circles."

The campfire crackled and a dwarf burped, which broke through the pleasant atmosphere. But the old man was captivated by his own words.

"True magic is rare in the Star Realm today, and perhaps that's for the best."

An older dwarf interrupted him: "But one thing you should know. That wasn't always the case! It has been rare since the War of the Three Dragon Lords banished all magic-gifted High Humans, Stone Dwarves, Berserks, and even the cunning Elf Rangers from the face of this world. Since then, it is considered a miracle when magic flourishes in a living being. Just as it is a harbinger of approaching doom!"

"That's right. And you are?"

"Hackbert. That is my name, worthy sir."

The old man looked askance at the stone dwarf and soon got lost in his thoughts again. He had left his best days behind, yet an unmistakable fire blazed within him when he spoke of the Arch-Sorceress. It even seemed as if the gleam in his eyes lit up like a match.

"A member of the Order of the Star Crystal is the highly enchanting Saphira. She is human... and a rare species at the same time," he continued.

"She radiates a pleasant and captivating wisdom, just like a princess waiting to take the place of a queen. And yet she mastered the ridiculously rare frost magic already in her young years. She combined her abilities with the high power of the Dark Moon. And a unique power emerged, such as had never existed in the Star Realm before. As far as I know, there are no sorceresses who can conjure more than one form of magic at the same time. And I wonder if that is really as rare as the legends say. I have my doubts."

The old man was back in the present, staring at his worn battle staff.

"She is gentle and strong, just as a masterful sorceress of the northern forest order should be. She is still in the prime of her life and fights with a magic sword from the snowstorm of the icy North Gorge, which she found during her sorceress trial. It bears the name Frostbert."

The older dwarf interrupted him again: "She radiates something that masculinity desires. She has long, dark hair, in which blue streaks flash. Despite an eternal and indispensable unattainability, she is the kind of woman who would probably steal a man's mind in seconds, if he were to lose himself in her immediately and forever."

The man nodded and began to smile: "However, deep down, the good soul has many facets and truly a second face."

"And that's not just because of her ash-blonde hair and the glowing purple streaks that only appear at night when the moonlight shines on them," Hackbert added, who apparently knew more about sorceresses than was healthy for his kind.

"Every night that the Dark Moon shines, she pursues her true passion. It's like a fire that keeps her alive, despite her frosty-cold demeanor," the human noted knowingly.

Dark Moon behind the Moon: In the Star Realm, there are many creatures whose appearance changes at night. The Dark Moon behind the first moon conceals a magical aura and naturally reacts to every living being in the Star Realm. Sometimes its influence shows itself in almost invisible details, and sometimes its sublime power is more than obvious. But the Dark Moon is mostly hidden by the first moon, so its icy-beautiful radiance rarely reaches the earth and its inhabitants.

The sorceress possessed rare relics, for she hunted magical treasures from bygone days and traded antiques from distant worlds, even beyond the Star Realm.

The mage looked at his staff once more, and the stone dwarves noticed. One of the younger dwarves interjected, interrupting the story.

"I once saw this sorceress. A chill ran down my spine. It was almost spooky. My comrade Olaf was completely dazed. But her face captivated me so much that I could barely move. I had never seen anything like it before. Something so... beautiful and at the same time destructive?"

The dwarf seemed shocked and equally delighted by his only encounter with the sorceress. Thereupon, he bit into his fish with full force, devouring it bones and all.

"But that's not all. She also owns a small dark carnival, and that's probably one reason why every soul in the Star Realm knows her today," the old man continued in his warm narrative voice.

"As a traveling merchant, she often appears in a chillingly beautiful, purple and completely dilapidated garb of old sorceresses, in which she radiates no less grace than in her royal blue cloak of an Arch-Sorceress. Her ash-blonde hair is unmistakably beautiful. And you recognize her by her icy dagger, Frostling, which she always wears at her belt during the Dark Moon hour. As a master of frost magic, only a magic-gifted person like her can wield such a dangerous weapon, from which a perpetually biting cold emanates."

The battle mage stroked his short, wavy beard and delved deeper into his thoughts.

"And there's something else. In the old stories, she always carried a primordial grimoire, whose purple cover had long faded. It must have been incredibly old even then. But this little book is packed with ancient spells and is probably a real gem that many of today's magical high dignitaries would love to get their hands on. Have you ever heard of it?"

Spells of the Primordial Grimoires: In the old traditions, it is said that something unspeakable is written in a primordial grimoire...

"How could a magic-gifted person manage to deliver a fatal blow to a royal dragon rider? Although they were considered unreachable and invulnerable during their lifetime due to their natural magic barrier, the Three Dragon Lords ultimately fell at the hand of a single person who wielded a primordial grimoire."

How exactly did a human manage that? And is it even true? This remains unclear to this day. But one mystery has persisted since that time of war. The power of a primordial grimoire is the decisive key.

The old mage's tone changed, becoming much grimmer than before.

"But beware of the magical spell of a sorceress. They are quite dangerous and not to be underestimated!"

He elaborated further: "Oh yes, my little friends. Don't deceive yourselves! Our sorceress is a gentle artist of rhetoric, but no one knows what lies hidden within her. When you live that long, you simply see, experience, and endure too much."

"Death. Loss. Ruin. There are few people who live as long as the sorceresses in this land," the oldest dwarf contributed, then loudly slurped on his corn on the cob.

"And she also speaks the ancient language. Your kind, worthy man, is a mystery to me anyway. It's unhealthy to know so much about the old world. We should rather live in the here and now. There's enough to do. Why waste so much of our valuable time on the past?"

The First Language: The ancient language was mastered by only a few magical creatures from ancient times. With the end of the Grey Age, it disappeared from the face of this world. But every now and then, writings are found that were written in that language. Mostly they remain veiled and the content of the scrolls hidden. They are as mysterious as the language itself. But there are a few exceptions. Some scholars can still interpret this language today.

The mage pulled a pendant from his pocket and held it in his cup. An ice-fire, whose tip ignited into a flame or froze into ice at the push of a button, depending on what one would need it for at that moment.

The old dwarf with the grey beard put his plate of soup aside: "I remember visiting this dark carnival. But that was a very long time ago. The clientele at the carnival are mostly collectors of rare artifacts. The sorceress would easily wrap a prospective buyer of her unique and extremely valuable pieces around her little finger. After all, she carries rare dragon leather, Tiamat stone, and powerful magic crystal. But that is probably not her intention. Each of her artifacts belongs in a special place that she manages to find. At least that was my impression during my only visit."

The human old man appeared to be nearing the end of his story. The dwarves had finished eating, and the logs on the fire were burning down. But one thing still weighed on his mind.

"But do you know why precisely this sorceress is so famous throughout the Star Realm? That is quite remarkable, if you ask me. Despite the fact that she appears changed in her nightly guise, many recognize her by her frost magic, which she never holds back."

The old dwarf knew about her little magic tricks: "Yes, I agree. She likes to show them off. She loves the mischief one can do with such frost magic. Deep in her heart, she is a light-footed player. A cheerful person? And there is nothing that people don't love about her captivating personality once they meet her."

The mage clutched his head and laughed: "As if she sometimes forgets that she is an Arch-Sorceress of the Order!"

He stood up and took his staff in hand. The stone dwarves were startled, for a moment it seemed as if he was preparing for battle. But that was not the case. He was preparing for his departure and thanked those present for dinner.

"Without the five protectors of the Star Realm, there would be no realm left today that we battle mages of Khalsur have sworn to protect. Sometimes the sorceresses help people by bringing a smile to our faces. And sometimes they fight fierce battles like Saphira, Grandmistress of Frost Magic, so that we can all experience the next day in our beloved Star Realm. Sorceresses are special, don't you think?"

The old man briefly lost himself in the depths of his thoughts. Then a middle-aged stone dwarf spoke up. Norbert said casually: "A nice story. But how do you actually know so much about the sorceresses of the order, you strange mage man?"

Hackbert admonished him: "You dwarf shit! Tell me, where are your manners?"

"Well. That's a story for another day. An old man is going to rest now. It's gotten late, you little rascals."

He left the campfire that night and returned to the darkness from which he had come. Unaware of what the Star Realm would soon be able to plan for a mage in his old age.

A short time later, the dwarves froze and looked up at the sky, where a brightly glowing lightning bolt could be seen, followed by a deafening bang that swept across the entire land...

• Chapter 2 will be released soon on Zauberkram.de!