Ninjay

Jude, the recently unemployed mage who had blown Aruuh into a trillion pieces, which flew far and wide enough to rain down on his kid siblings in the Dwarvern lands to the south in a horrific display, stared down somberly at the remnants of the Strategic Urguani Victory. Even with his achievement in the loss, he could not take any heart. He knew now how weak the waterways were. The Urguani Special Military Operation could have their warships in Rkyivttersburg within 2 days. How long could President Hadrilenskyy hold out? Grim times approached...

He hated the city. It was a bitter irony, then, that it was likely to be the one Jude was to spend much of his time in for the foreseeable future. Atop a balcony in Alduun, capital of Idunia, he stood, loosely holding some drink and staring off into the horizon. He had never been the biggest of drinkers, but the temptation certainly called to him now. It was not the city itself, he knew. Just the people in it. And even amongst them, the true hate was only reserved for a select few. The majority of the rest he regarded with the same muted contempt and disdain as he viewed most of the current world. A dour outlook, which he knew would likely shift if he knew the people better, but one he held all the same. The looks and murmurs were something he was used to. “Impure. “Heretics.” “Sinful.” “Unholy.” Those had lost their effect in time, drowned out in large part by a different voice, personal to him, which had always spoken far worse. Even without such a presence, though, the general contempt was something he was more than capable of bearing; the world did not like him, and he did not like the world. He was perfectly content to leave it alone if it would treat him the same way. The experience of the last few days, though, were new, and thus grated at him more than the old. The ‘I told you so’s’ of those who had never done anything, those clung to laurels of ages past, those who knew not of the original intent of the institution versus the lackluster framework they had been given. Those who never dared to think with vision. Lifeless drones who only think of comfort, optics, and petty, mundane politics. There were also the sneers and the jubilation he felt from those who were supposed to have been allies. The vindication of those who never would have accepted them anyways. The new opinions of the masses. “Ibleesians. “Traitors.” “Ought to be killed.” The longer he thought of it, the angrier he grew. What did they know of it? What did they know of the variance within the mages such as himself? All the damned individuality which made bringing them together an impossible feat? Hell, if they were all of one mind in their perceived evil, they would have achieved much more - a trail of corpses would have been left in their wake. What did they know of the reasons for taking up the study? Not for any intent of evil, for the glory of no petty deity or daemon, but for power? What did they know of powerlessness? . . . Who amongst them knew what it was like to be weak? Consideration of this question elicited only a single name. Hadrian. He could not help but grimly smirk at this. It seemed a dark comedy, that the same man who was the cause of many recent headaches of his was one of the few, if not the only, with whom he likely shared some mutual grounds of lacking physicality, and the struggles that came with such. Ruminating on that man, some words came to mind, written from one Emperor upon passing it to the next. ‘... should wickedness be allowed to rule, innocence will always be its first victim.’ Have you realized your failure? . . . “In a cosmically correct universe, I’d be a bandit.” Jude had stated this on multiple occasions, to multiple people. For the longest time it was his best idea of what he was meant to be. A heartless and remorseless killer. Someone who cared not for morals, but only for the best ways of slaying those who refused to comply. A brigand of no heart and no character. Unfortunately, be it the will of the universe, the divine plan, or plain bad luck, such a simple path was not the one which he found himself on. Instead, he had been put into a position of responsibility for others. He had allowed himself to make the mistake of envisioning a greater future for them all - one of achievement and accolades. He had been condemned to going soft - to caring for those around him, as little as he may have expressed such openly. Even now, as one had managed to throw things into such disarray, he found himself lacking entirely of ill will towards her. No, instead it was something entirely different. A novel feeling… pride? He was unsure. All this newfound, still-foreign positivity was juxtaposed against his grumpy demeanor, of course, and a propensity for violence when under even minor duress. But, still, he was a far cry from the person he had always expected himself to be. Instead of a bandit, he had been made a bureaucrat, Instead of a monster, he had been made to care. He grimaced. To be a real person - what a miserable fate. He wondered, then, if others were similar. Hadrian. Honeywine. Vander. Half the knights, honestly. Bandits and brigands, in a world that made sense. They certainly had the capacity for it. Alas, such was not the world they lived in. We may hold our stations, official and proper, within a real nation. But perhaps the soul of a bandit is not so easily swayed from its nature. . . . As the sun began to set, Jude could not maintain his frustration. As unfortunate as it was, he had already rationalized a number of silver linings. Ones which, arguably, more than compensated for the dark clouds. Perhaps this end was a better one than he could have hoped for, realistically. With no institution relying on him, it did truly feel like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was no longer a paper pusher; he would no longer have to deal with frequent letters, deliberations, logistics. Problems of a magical nature were no longer his to concern himself with. With no institution to hold themselves to, who could say what some of the other mages might get up to? Whatever it may be, it was not his problem anymore. As for his project, it had certainly hit a roadblock for the moment, but perhaps some restraints had been removed in the same instant. As he gazed off to the west, he swore he could just barely see the tip of the monolith above the ranges of mountains that surrounded it… With the College no longer under him, with no further duties or obligations binding him, there was little left to bother him. To care for nothing was a great freedom which seemed to have fallen into his lap. After all, what was left for him to care about? Noth- “Hello, Jude.” A familiar voice called to him from behind. He started to turn, reminded now of a handful of others. What was left for him to care about? Not nothing. A little. Precious little.

From the Office of the Imperial Liaison, 265 S.A. TO ALL MAGES OF THE IMPERIAL COLLEGE OF MAGIC As you likely know, it has come to pass that within the Imperial Crownlands, magi of our ilk have been forbidden on threat of death, with very few exceptions to be made. Thus, do I make this final decree: Effective immediately, the Imperial College of Magic is hereby adjourned. All authority and allowances affiliated with the institution are thus rendered null and void. Those mages of good standing in and disposition towards the Imperium are advised to disperse to lands more tolerant of our kind. Alternatively, those of high standing and confidence may wish to look into receiving a writ of approval via the proper channels. Though I know not if they will receive you, I know at least that the Big Hat Society exists and seems to be in good standing. I recommend determining the status of mages and magic in other realms such as Idunia, Petra, Norland, etc., to determine where you may next make your home. I do also order all to cause no problems in these lands you now find yourself in. Enough trouble has found us here already, and will likely continue to follow us; do not bring further on your fellow mages without due cause. With the above stated, I wish to make one final, personal remark on behalf of myself and other leadership of the College. To those of good intention who came, taught, learned, and otherwise participated, to those who intentionally or not worked towards changing opinions of us for the better, thank you for doing so. Even if briefly, we had amassed a group who possessed the vision and desire to do, and contribute to the world in which we live, rather than be content with merely existing and doing nothing of note. I wish you all safety wherever you go next, and thank you sincerely for your presence. Again, with all the genuineness I possess, I thank you all. Jude Amaranth, Imperial Liaison of the Imperial College of Magic Archmage Arthur Burke, Primarch of Esoterica, The Rainbow Wizard, Twice-Bathed in the Void Rhae’lin Ashwood, Primarch of Creation Vivien Maelstorm, Advisor of The Imperial College of Magic. Ark, Auditor of The Imperial College of Magic