Shadows of the Darkened Veil

Just in two minutes, it was Ravindra's turn to give the entry fees. After handing the money to the guard, Ravindra asked for guidance on how to get registered in the city.

The guard provided a vague description of the route to the registration office for Akarvans. The city was truly massive, with towering buildings and a main market that pulsed with an incredible energy. Magical light devices illuminated the marketplace, creating a vibrant, almost ethereal atmosphere. The sheer number of people was staggering—families wandered together, lone individuals moved with purpose, and a cacophony of voices filled the air. Shopkeepers and customers engaged in animated bargaining, creating a symphony of commerce.

The market's landscape was diverse, with shops ranging from simple roadside stalls to more elaborate wooden structures that exuded an air of elegance. This particular section of the market was predominantly dedicated to vegetables, meat, and an array of inexpensive goods. Flower vendors competed with sellers of fake jewellery and decorative items, each trying to catch the eye of potential customers.

Ravindra's eyes widened with wonder. 'Oh… this place is truly massive,' he thought to himself. 'I wonder what other cities might look like. These buildings are incredibly tall… WOW… so much light, it makes the place look absolutely beautiful.'

Looking around for directions, he noticed an elderly Akarvan woman with deeply etched wrinkles marking her weathered face. Mustering his courage, he approached her. "Excuse me, do you know where the registration office is?"

The woman's eyes softened slightly. "Take a right and go to the end of the street. You'll find the registration office for Akarvans there." After a moment's pause, she added, "What's your name, young man?"

"Ravindra Chauhan," he replied, hoping his response sounded confident.

A gentle smile crossed her lips. "Good name," she said, before turning and walking away.

"Thank you!!!" Ravindra called after her, feeling a surge of excitement. Not only had he found directions, but someone had confirmed that his name was, indeed, a good one.

Following the woman's instructions, he made his way to the end of the street. A metal door stood before him, accompanied by a stone pavilion open to the sky and adorned with decorative mirrors. With a mix of nervousness and anticipation, Ravindra pushed open the door.

Inside, two male officers were slumped in their chairs, surrounded by a sea of papers. The scene looked more like an impromptu nap session than an official registration office.

"Ah… He..hello," Ravindra spoke softly, carefully closing the door behind him.

"Ooo… Come in, come in," one of the officers responded, quickly rousing his colleague.

The older, balding man rubbed his eyes. "We were not sleeping… We were just…"

"Power nap," the younger officer supplied helpfully.

"Power nap… Power nap… Yeah," the bald man repeated, as if trying to convince himself.

Ravindra felt slightly uncomfortable. His attention was drawn to a woman in the background—seemingly a maid—who stood like a silent, almost ghostly presence. She moved without purpose, her cleaning efforts appearing halfhearted at best.

"Sit down," the old man said, punctuating his invitation with a loud burp and a stomach rub.

"Give us some water, Yelan," the younger officer called out, turning to the maid.

The old man chimed in, "Also some tea, if you please. Half a cup for the three of us, and make some for yourself as well."

Without missing a beat, Yelan responded plainly, "I won't drink tea."

"Ok," the old man replied, seemingly unfazed. "Be quick though."

She abandoned her broom exactly where she stood and disappeared into a small room within the office to prepare the tea.

"Let's begin," the old man spoke, while his younger colleague readied a blank page and a pen. "What is your name?"

"Ravindra Chauhan," he responded, trying to sound as natural as possible.

The old man's deep voice carried a note of surprise. "Ooo… A warrior," he remarked, seemingly impressed by Ravindra's appearance—a typical 20-year-old with unremarkable facial features and body build.

"Not really," Ravindra quickly clarified. "I would love to receive training. That's why I came to the city." He knew he needed to craft a story that couldn't be easily verified.

The questioning continued. "Where were you living a month ago?"

Ravindra had prepared for this. "I was living in a remote village far to the east. The village had about 100 people, and I was alone in my family. I worked on farmlands to earn a living. A traveler told me about this city, so I gathered all my money and came here looking for work. They said my bloodline had a history of great warriors, and I should join a academia in the city."

It was a carefully constructed narrative—vague enough to avoid detailed scrutiny, yet specific enough to sound credible. He had eliminated his hypothetical family, claiming to have worked on someone else's farmlands. If questioned about the village's location, he would describe it as being so remote that verification would be impossible.

"What was the name of the village?" the officer pressed.

"Duskwood," Ravindra responded without hesitation.

The old man seemed dismissive. "The village is too small. We might not have any records. Anyway, let's get this over with. Your name is more than enough. Now, place your hand on that orb."

He pointed to a plain glass sphere—an artefact designed to determine an individual's magical affiliation.

Just then, the door dramatically slammed open. Both officers visibly winced at the entrance of a woman who commanded immediate attention. Standing at 5'4", she was striking—blonde hair, a beautiful face, and adorned with a golden circlet featuring an elegant green gem.

Her formal suit, in shades of blue and gold, fit her perfectly. A long skirt completed her luxurious ensemble.

"Do you have any match? Even a 40 affinity would do," she demanded urgently.

"Lady Sigrid, we are in the middle of a registration," one officer protested.

The young officer whispered to his colleague, "I'll handle the registration. You manage her."

As Ravindra placed his hand on the orb, something extraordinary happened. The transparent sphere transformed—not to black, but to a colour that seemed to consume all other colours, profound darkness that was somehow different from mere blackness.

"There has to be a single match in the records" She shouted.

"We tried, look at all of this mess," the old man pointed towards the mountains of paper all around the office, "Give us some time, half of all is checked"

"I have run out of time now, I feel like… I have just wasted my time-"

"Black magic... anemo… And Black Magic 90 affinity… You are truly exceptional even among Akarvan… This combination is bizarre… I am so sorry but this is the worst combination… I have seen so far…" He laughed, "Why black… I thought Akarvans didn't like it" This made her and the old man look at the orb taking all of their attention as Akarvan and black magic were very rare.

The sound of heavy footsteps on the wooden floor came from the sandals of Lady Sigrid as she came close to the table where the orb was shining black or was it something else, she thought. She moved closer as if she would kiss the orb, then she stepped back as she flinched.

"It's not black… It's dark," the woman murmured, stepping back from the orb with a mixture of shock and excitement. The room fell into an absolute silence, with Ravindra wearing an expression of pure confusion.

"He is a dark magic user," she clenched her fist, looking up as if she had discovered an invaluable treasure. "FINALLY…" Her triumphant exclamation was met with theatrical reactions from the office staff.

The young officer tumbled from his chair, while the older man began trembling violently. He started vibrating.

Spilling tea and water from the tray, the maid, Yelan, performed the most dramatic response—dropping her tray and letting a glass cup shatter dramatically on the floor.

"An Akarvan is a dark magic user… The world's about to end..." she proclaimed, looking skyward before dramatically falling to her knees. Her performance seemed more suited to a low-budget theatrical production than an official registration office.

Ravindra stood completely bewildered, sensing he had once again complicated his already precarious situation.

Sigrid's voice cut through the chaos. "Make a fake amulet for him. From now on, he uses black magic. And if a single word gets out, all of you are as good as dead." Her gaze swept across the faces of the officers and the maid, who nodded in immediate submission.

Turning to Ravindra, she asked with sharp precision, "What is your name?"

"Ravindra Chauhan," he responded, trying to maintain composure, 'What the hell is going on... What am I supposed to do...? This... Lady Sigrid seems someone special even for these officers... I can't get on her bad side... My instincts, on the other hand, were telling me to get away from her... She looks like a lunatic to me...'

Her next question carried a hint of suspicion. "Are you really an Akarvan, or are you in disguise?"

"No… I am an Akarvan," Ravindra replied, his internal monologue betraying his nervousness. 'I am technically not an Akarvan, I just spawned or lost my memories… don't kill me... please... And let me run away...please... please... please....'

"Ok," she said, grabbing his hand. "We are going to the Glass Palace."

"Ok, Lady Sigrid."

She corrected him immediately. "No need for 'lady'… For now, call me elder sister Sigrid. We can't let others suspect you... You will be my little brother for a while now... Is that clear?"

Ravindra studied her face, but her heavy makeup made age estimation challenging. She appeared young—somewhere in her 20s or early 30s. "Got it, elder sister," he responded obediently.

Meanwhile, the young officer worked frantically to prepare a state-recognized amulet. A black liquid emerged from his hand, seamlessly integrating into the artefact. The amulet's design featured a solid pentagon with a thread running through it, adorned with a pegasus—seemingly the city's official crest.

Once the amulet was completed, Ravindra and Sigrid departed. They secured a private horse cab heading directly to the Glass Palace, home to the Jarl and his family. Unlike the crowded horse carriages Ravindra had encountered earlier, this cab offered comfortable space for two passengers.

Feeling a mix of curiosity and trepidation, Ravindra decided to probe for information. "Elder sister… if you like, can I ask a few questions?" His instincts warned him to maintain distance from this intense woman, not only she had stutes and power but he was also taking him to an unknown place where he had no right to say anything... He could only be a dog... a pawn, for now...

"Fire away," Sigrid responded casually.

Interpreting her response as permission, Ravindra carefully formulated his first question. "Is dark magic bad?"

Sigrid's explanation was nuanced. "I don't know if it is inherently bad or not. Akarvans have banned dark magic worldwide. Anyone using dark magic would be considered an enemy of their state and all other states. They will have no home anywhere."

She continued, providing more context. "As far as I know, the ban was due to dark magic's harmful nature. To even gain its affinity, one needs to sacrifice a human soul."

Internally, Ravindra winced. 'So, I sacrificed his soul… Rowan, sorry,' he thought, though the apology felt hollow.

"The global respect for Akarvans is significant," Sigrid explained. "When they asked all kingdoms to ban dark magic, everyone agreed. It was a historic moment of unprecedented unity."

Sensing an opportunity to explain his mysterious background, Ravindra crafted a sympathetic narrative. "I will tell you the truth, elder sister. I've lost my memories."

He wove an emotional tale. "The first thing I remember after losing my memories was finding a wounded soldier in the middle of a jungle. His eyes were begging for help. He wanted to live." Ravindra infused his voice with carefully measured emotion. "So, I held his hand and used magic. I closed my eyes and prayed to save this man. After several minutes, I opened my eyes and saw the same soldier dead—aged like an old man, with no blood."

Sigrid listened intently, her mind analyzing every detail of his story. 'He might be telling the truth,' she thought. 'His questions seem naive, and his explanation could be genuine.'

"Where exactly did you find this fallen soldier?" she asked, seeking to confirm his account.

"I don't know," Ravindra replied. "When I saw him dead, I screamed and ran away. Someone told me about the city on my journey, and I used the money I had to gain entrance."

Sigrid's thought. 'Maybe he is telling the truth. If anyone witnessed what he did, they might have reacted similarly. The wound on his hand supports his story. He's either an exceptional liar or a victim of unusual circumstances. Investigation might not be necessary if we reached the palace... I will have Steward Syrus check if he is lying or not...'

"Am I going to jail?" Ravindra asked, feigning concern.

"No," Sigrid responded. "You're going to meet the Jarl. We need a dark magic user for a very special job that Jarl himself will explain. After that, you'll become my new assistant since I discovered you, and you've lost your memories." Her tone suggested less altruism and more of an opportunity to delegate work.

"I will be honoured to serve you, elder sister," Ravindra said aloud, while his inner voice muttered, 'Just leave me alone, lunatic. I am fine on my own.' Being wise, he had to do all of this... at least he thought he was being wise.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he hesitantly asked, "What magic does elder sister use?"

Sigrid's response was technical. "Magic? Light magic with a main elementary attribute—Anemo."

Seeing his confused expression, she elaborated. "Anemo means wind—like wind magic in children's basic magic books. It's an elementary attribute present from birth. Light magic, on the other hand, is gained through a specific ritual. If accepted, you receive an Ethereal magical element necessary for elementary magic use."

Ravindra's confusion deepened. "So… I have dark magic with the elemental attribute wind... That Anemo thing...?"

"Exactly," Sigrid confirmed. "You can use the wind element minimally. When paired with dark magic, Anemo magic becomes much more fierce... maybe."

Ravindra's mind raced with unexpected complications. 'Wait… this is messed up. Why can't I use fire? If I can't use fire, how can I use illusions? How can I read memories without dark magical fire?' The thoughts spun chaotically through his brain.

Concentrating, he attempted to feel his mana for the first time since the ritual. What he discovered was unlike anything he expected. The mana flowed in a colourless, dark essence—identical to the orb's mysterious colouration at the registration office. For a moment, he was completely stunned.

"Elder sister," he stuttered, "The colour of my mana… it doesn't look good."

Sigrid glanced at him. "What? Oh… you mean the darkness. The mana changes colour based on your primary ethereal magical element. There are other ways to add more, but you don't need to know any of that for now."

She then offered a crucial piece of advice: "Never show anyone how your magic works. As far as I know, dark magic has the primary ability to copy other magic and use it as its own. Sacrifices are necessary for heavy uses—or so the rumours say."

Her tone became more serious. "Dark magic users are banned worldwide. There's too much false information and speculation surrounding them. Most of the time, dark magic is associated with criminals or rebellions. They are generally stronger than average soldiers at the same magical level."

Regarding his specific magical combination, she seemed uncertain. "With Anemo, I don't know what you can achieve using dark magic. We don't even know if it's the right combination. For such missions, there will be a minimum of one to two weeks of training. I was so late that we've barely made it to the minimum training time—enough for you to understand the basics of magic and its fierce applications."

Her final warning was profound and ominous. "Remember, magic isn't a tool. It's like fire—it burns. And it can burn you as well. Don't get carried away." She explained how mana depletion could be fatal. "When mana ends in the body, pain and exhaustion take over. It has driven many mad, and some have even died after a complete mana depletion."

Curiosity still burning, Ravindra asked, "But what do you do, elder sister?"

A hint of pride entered her voice. "I serve the Jarl as his detective. I was specifically ordered to find a dark magic user." She looked directly at him, a smile playing on her lips. "You were my mission."

The weight of her words hung in the air. Ravindra was no longer just a random traveller—he was now part of something much larger and potentially more dangerous than he could have imagined.

The horse cab continued its journey toward the Glass Palace, the city's landscapes shifting outside the window. Ravindra couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement, fear, and uncertainty about what awaited him.

His entire existence—barely a day old—had already become a complex tapestry of mysterious magic, unexpected missions, and a destiny he was beginning to understand. The dark magic flowing through his veins was both a curse and potentially a remarkable gift.

Ravindra knew his life had irrevocably changed. Whatever mission the Jarl had in mind, whatever role Sigrid saw for him, he was now committed to a path he could never have anticipated when he first entered the city.

The journey of Ravindra Chauhan, the dark magic user with an Anemo attribute, was just beginning.