ASH POV
"No, no, no, no, no" I heard Zaroth say.
"I looked up to see---- My master on the floor in pain. The dagger was on his chest.
"Master" I said softly.
"Ash" He said.
Then, I yelled. Zaroth face was twisted in agony as I let his blood boil using dark magic. All around me, soldiers and warlords fell thrashing in pain. Nyxara came, and made a barrier that covered me and my master and her together.
I knelt beside my master and began whispering
"Master, I am sorry. Please stay. I need you to survive"
"Ash, stop. Its time for me to leave the world. I want you to know that the gods are real. In my young age, I discovered the truth even though I suspected it. I am so sorry. My brother is going to free K'tharos. You need to look for the most powerful relic from each elements. Like----. Like the Enchanted Lyre, the wand of whispers, and so on. I--- I trust you. Take this." He said and handed me a bag. The bag he was packing. The backpack, a deep sapphire blue, the color of a twilight sky just kissed by the first stars, felt cool to the touch, like smooth, polished river stone. Etched onto the fabric were intricate runes, glowing with an ethereal light that shifted and danced like the Northern Lights, their luminescence casting subtle shadows that moved independently of any external light source. It is always weightless.
"In these are my instructions, letter, magic instruments" He said weakly
"I love you. Take my staff" My master said and he died his eyes opening. I closed it and began sobbing.
"Are you done. I can't hold this shield forever" Nyxara voice called. I grabbed my master staff, buried him using magic, and placed my staff on the earth. I then wrote
For He Who Gave Me The Life I Could Never Afford. My Master Aginor. For He Trusted Me Even Though I don't deserve it. Like you say, Magic Is All About The Heart. Peace To You.
"Are you done" Nyxara yelled
"Yes" I yelled back.
She then slowly released the shield. Then, I showed them the side my master never knew I had. My dark side.
I raised my hands and all the elements bent to my will. A storm of all the element gathered. Then, I pushed through. I channeled all magic I had. The storm gathered and began chasing everyone. All the warlords ran, Soldiers ran, even Zaroth who had rescued Magnus disappeared into thin air. I yelled as I channeled through. I flew up slowly. Then everything became a blur, and I went down and fell unconscious.
I woke up. I looked around to see a fire at the middle of a clearing. We were in a forest. Its noon. I saw food at the middle of the clearing close to the fire. Looks like a rabbit. I ran towards it and began eating. It seems like I haven't eaten in days. I saw water beside the rabbit and hell yes, I drank it. Then, I went back to sleep.
I woke up again but this time, its evening. I didn't see anyone but I saw food this time it was fruit with soup. The soup tastes delicious. I began to eat savagely. Then, I felt a presence I looked around to see Nyxara.
"You" I growled. I dont know why I want to attack her but something tells me she is not innocent even though she helped me the day he died.
"Me" She asked mock surprise etched on her face.
"You joined the people who killed my master"
"Oh. To be honest, your master sacrificed himself for you by getting stabbed in the gut" She said nonchalantly
"My master died because of Zaroth. I am going to avenge him. I swear on Rhaevnex the god of revenge." I vowed
"OOh cool. Man, vibe always swearing. Nasty. Can I come along?" She asked
"Hell no. You are his apprentice, and I will forgive you. Just go"
"No I am not. I am just his shadow" She said calmly but the word 'shadow' seemed to bend the darkness.
"Whats your magic" I asked.
There are beings like Vampires, Shifters, Werewolves, Witches, Lesser Demons, Imps, Warlords, Mages, Elves, Dwarves, Ogre, Trolls and dragons. Although, dragons are almost extinct.
"I dont know but I have the ability to control shadows. It falls under one of the older demons but I am not sure which. I mean they are mythologies so I am confused"
"Oh. Ok" I replied thinking of what my master said. 'I want you to know that the gods are real' Does that mean that all monsters, higher demons and so on are real?. Well, we will all figure it out. Wait, did I just say 'we' like I am counting Nyxara.
"Oh, let me tell you this. I knew that you were there the other day you were spying at me because the shadows whispered to me" She said
"I wasn't spying on you" I said
"Yeah sure" She replied.
"I don't need you to follow me on my journey" I told her even though I wanted her to follow me. Although, I won't admit it to myself.
"Okay but I am going to the city of Alderbrook which I trust is where you are going" She said
"Did you look into my bag"
"No. But your master said something about the wand of whispers. I know it is there because of my investigations. Zaroth would be there next so what do you say partner?" She asked.
"Okay. But once we are there, we will part ways" I said not believing it.
"Where is my master staff" I yelled
"Oh, that staff is in the bag. After you were unconscious, it flew there."
"How long was I out"
"Three days and three nights you dumb stupid sleeper. I had to watch over your lazy butt while you slept."
She began leaving
"Are you always like this" I yelled
"Yep, but my other side is more dangerous, and I am sure you don't want to see it." Yep. I do not. Anything worse than her behavior right now is a no-no to me. I do not want that.
"How do we travel?" I asked immediately we finished packing our things which consisted of; my magic bag, my master staff that I don't want to let go off, some daggers that Nyara has hidden in her cloth. Then some gold coins that Nyxara kept in her pouch.
"Well, the horses ran away. With luck, we might be able to find them but then, we will walk." She answered.
Well, we did just that for the entire day pausing only to eat. We did not even rest. She kept on pushing us. We reached the nearest village. The village is not big enough to be called one. The village consisted of twenty houses with a chief. The chief made us pass through without any questions. The kids looked at us with young innocent eyes. I wondered if anyone had fought much less killed. I saw Nyxara give a kid with dark skin a gold coin. A gold coin here could buy at least ten of this village. The kid smiled happily, gave Nyxara a peck on the cheek. Nyxara looked happy and smiled. I have never seen her smile before but then, I have only met her for like seven days counting the day I was unconscious. She caught me smiling, scowled, and asked
"What are you looking at?"
"No--Nothing" I replied. Wow. She made my heart flutter. Thats nonsense I told myself. Love is a crazy useless thing. Love kills, hurts, and doesn't exist. I looked around and found out that she was already leaving the village. I quickly ran after her. Then an idea came to me
"Nyxara, why can't we just buy a horse from them?"
"Sure. Although, I have done that. I bought it from the chief. Where do you think we are going? If not the stable" Nyxara asked.
"I thought we were leaving" I replied.
We were silent for a while as we made our way to the stable. Seems like the villagers trust easily. We got there. Nyxara chose a powerful chestnut mare, her coat gleaming like polished copper, stood with a quiet dignity, her dark eyes reflecting the vastness of the plains.
I looked around and spotted the horse I liked. The horse, a magnificent creature of midnight black, possessed a muscular build that spoke of untamed strength, its mane and tail flowing like dark rivers in the wind. I wondered where the villagers got these magnificent horses. We saddled our horse, and began a silent ride into the heart of the whispering woods and out of the village.
"Nyxara, where do you think the villagers got those large horses. I mean, they look like warrior's horse." Nyxara scanned the woods
"Yes, they do. I wonder why. Unless---" She barely finished her sentence when some soldiers sprang out of the woods.
Before the soldiers were even fully visible, a wave of pure darkness erupted from her, not the swirling shadows of before, but a suffocating void that swallowed the vanguard whole. Men cried out, their voices abruptly cut off as if devoured by the nothingness. I reacted instinctively, a surge of ice exploding outwards, encasing the remaining soldiers in a thick, unyielding shell.
But these were no ordinary troops. A warlord, his eyes burning with an internal fire, slammed his fist into the ice, shattering it with unnatural strength. He roared, and flames erupted from his skin, a living inferno charging towards us. I countered with a wall of wind, a howling vortex that deflected the flames and sent the warlord stumbling back. Another warlord, clad in heavy plate armor, raised his hands, and the very ground beneath us surged upwards, attempting to entomb us in the earth.
Nyxara was a blur of motion. She didn't speak, but her power spoke for her. Tendrils of darkness snaked out, piercing the warlord's armor, coiling around him like constricting serpents. He bellowed in pain, his flames sputtering as the darkness leeched his strength. I seized the opportunity, summoning a bolt of lightning that struck the earth-wielding warlord, the shockwave throwing him from his feet.
The remaining soldiers, caught between Nyxara's relentless assault and my elemental fury, faltered. I conjured a wave of searing heat, a wall of fire that forced them back, their screams mingling with the crackle of burning leaves. Nyxara, a predator in the heart of her own summoned darkness, moved with terrifying speed. One moment she was beside a soldier, the next he was collapsing, his life force extinguished.
The battle was a whirlwind of raw power. I felt the strain of channeling the elements, the world itself groaning under the onslaught of magic. But we couldn't relent. With a final, desperate push, I unleashed the full force of my will. The earth split beneath the warlords, a chasm opening to swallow them whole. Nyxara, with a flick of her wrist, sealed the chasm with a wave of darkness, their cries fading into the abyss.
We stood amidst the aftermath, the silence deafening. The forest was scarred, the air heavy with the residue of magic. Nyxara met my gaze, a flicker of something akin to approval in her eyes. We saddled our horse and went away from here as fast as we could. It was clear that we don't have any ally. I can't believe I considered Nyxara as a 'we' that's the secont time I have done that just today alone.
I just saw her other side.
We pushed through the night, and we came to a Town. The town, a sprawling behemoth compared to the humble village we'd left behind, loomed against the predawn sky. Its walls, not the simple earthen ramparts or rough-hewn timber we were accustomed to, were a formidable construction of polished obsidian and pale, shimmering brick, layered in intricate patterns that hinted at a civilization of considerable wealth and artistry. The sheer scale of the fortification was daunting; the gates, reinforced with thick bands of blackened iron, stood like twin sentinels, their formidable presence a clear declaration of the town's power and self-sufficiency.
Even from our vantage point, a considerable distance from the town's perimeter, the sheer density of its buildings was striking. Structures of varying heights and architectural styles clustered together, a chaotic yet oddly harmonious tapestry of human ingenuity. Some buildings boasted steeply pitched roofs of slate, their angles sharp and imposing, while others presented flat, terraced tops that seemed to reach for the stars, their surfaces reflecting the faint glow of the nascent dawn. The flickering torchlight that lined the streets cast long, dancing shadows, creating an illusion of movement and life within the town's walls, even before the first rays of sunlight began to pierce the darkness.
Unlike the quiet, intimate atmosphere of the village we had recently departed, this town pulsed with an unseen energy, a palpable sense of bustling activity and guarded secrets. Even at this early hour, the air was thick with the sounds of a city awakening: the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer striking metal, the murmur of voices echoing through the narrow streets, and the occasional creak of a heavy wagon rolling over the cobblestones. The very layout of the streets, a labyrinth of winding alleys and narrow thoroughfares, suggested a place where strangers were met with suspicion, and where wealth and power were concentrated in the hands of a select few.
The subtle undercurrent of tension in the air was unmistakable, a silent warning that this was no ordinary town. This was a place of importance, a hub of trade and commerce, a nexus of political intrigue, and perhaps, a place of considerable danger. The sheer scale of the town, the imposing walls, and the pervasive sense of unease made it clear that we were entering a world far removed from the simple life we had known. This was a place where fortunes were made and lost, where secrets were bartered and betrayed, and where the unwary could easily find themselves entangled in a web of intrigue and peril. This is really close to the kingdom of Alderbrook. I brought the map out of my backpack. I took a really good view and this is what I got.
We continued our journey me and Nyxara as we made our way to Alderbrook. The sun hung low, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly along the dusty path. There was an eerie calm in the air, a feeling of serenity that, despite its beauty, made me feel like something was always just on the edge of happening.
We didn't pass any trouble, at least not until we reached the inn. The place, a small, unremarkable establishment called "The Amber Lantern," was tucked off to the side of the main road. Its creaky wooden sign swayed gently in the wind, and the dim light coming from within suggested the evening crowd had already gathered.
We entered cautiously, and I could feel the eyes of the room turn to us, appraising, scanning. It was that kind of place where the air was thick with the scent of old wood and beer, and the murmurs of conversation bounced off the walls like trapped birds. The innkeeper gave us a quick nod before turning his attention to the bar. We found a table near the corner, away from the raucous crowd.
For a while, things were peaceful, the sounds of low chatter and the clinking of mugs filling the space. Although the people still looked at us. Maybe its because of our appearance or Nyxara. But as the minutes passed, I began to notice a small group of men at the bar giving us too much attention. At first, it was subtle—the way they leaned in to whisper to each other, their eyes lingering on Nyxara a little too long. But soon it became clear: they were planning something. I could almost hear their thoughts in the way they smiled, like they thought they could just take what they wanted.
One of them, a burly man with a scar across his cheek, stood up first. He swaggered over to our table, a leer on his face, and his voice was thick with the kind of bravado you only get from too much ale.
"What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" he slurred, his eyes roving over Nyxara like she was a prize to be won.
Before I could speak, Nyxara's hand subtly moved to the side, her fingers curling in a motion I knew well. It was like watching the air around her shift, like the very shadows in the room bent to her will.
The dim lantern light flickered, and suddenly, the room plunged into darkness. A heavy silence fell over the inn, only broken by the soft, uneven sound of breathing. I could hear the men shifting in their seats, their murmurs rising in panic. The silence grew longer, and then, from the corners of the room, there was a sharp gasp. One man cried out, his voice trembling with fear.
"Where'd the light go?!"
The panic was palpable. The men were stumbling about now, knocking over chairs and slamming into tables as they tried to find some source of light. Their voices became high-pitched, like frightened children who had lost their way in the dark. It was almost laughable if it wasn't so absurdly terrifying to them.
"What's happening?! I can't see anything!" one of them whimpered.
Another shouted, "I—I don't like this! Get me out of here!"
They were practically whining now, and I couldn't help but chuckle to myself, even as I kept my eyes on Nyxara. She stood still, her expression unreadable, her eyes glowing faintly in the dark. It was clear she was enjoying the show—after all, she was always fascinated by how fear could warp people.
And then, just as quickly as the darkness descended, it lifted, the lights flickering back to life. The men were huddled together at the far side of the room, wide-eyed and trembling. One of them, the scarred man, had backed himself into a corner, his hands up as though warding off some invisible monster.
Nyxara smiled faintly, the shadows around her whispering quietly in the aftermath. She didn't need to say a word—her magic had already spoken for her.
"You might want to find a different place to sit," she said calmly, her voice smooth like silk. The men scrambled, tripping over their own feet as they rushed back to their table, not daring to approach us again.
I leaned back in my chair, watching the chaos with a mix of amusement and disbelief.
"That was quite the show," I said, shaking my head.
Nyxara shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Sometimes, people need to be reminded that darkness isn't always the enemy."
We finished our meal in peace after that. The men at the bar didn't dare make another move, and the rest of the night went by without incident. But I couldn't shake the image of their frightened faces, so helpless in the grip of Nyxara's magic. It was a reminder, as if we needed one, that there were few who could match her in the art of fear. Could I. The feeling came to me. A childish, weird feeling. I have given up the feeling years ago.
We left the inn early and a chill, like a spectral finger tracing the nape of my neck, had settled upon me, a persistent, unnerving sensation that refused to dissipate. It wasn't just a fleeting unease; it was a deep-seated conviction, a primal whisper in my gut, telling me we were being watched. Followed. Hunted, even. The rustling of leaves, the creak of branches, the distant hoot of an owl – all the usual sounds of the forest, now amplified and distorted by my paranoia, seemed to carry a hidden weight, a silent accusation. Every shadow stretched longer than it should, every patch of darkness seemed to writhe with unseen movement.
I glanced over my shoulder, scanning the dense undergrowth, but saw nothing. Just the endless, tangled tapestry of trees and foliage, a green veil concealing whatever might lurk within. The air felt thick and heavy, charged with an unseen presence. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence.
"Nyxara," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the rustling leaves, "I can't shake this feeling. I think… I think we're being followed."
I watched her, hoping for reassurance, for a logical explanation that would banish the creeping dread. But her normally bright eyes, usually sparkling with wit and confidence, held a flicker of unease, a shadow mirroring my own. She paused, her gaze sweeping the surrounding woods, a slow, deliberate survey that revealed her own apprehension.
"I know," she said, her voice low and steady, but with a subtle tremor that betrayed her composure. "I've felt it too, for some time now. That… pressure. That sense of being observed. Mind you. Not followed but observed"
A wave of cold washed over me. Instead of calming my fears, her confirmation only intensified them. If Nyxara, with her heightened senses and sharp instincts, felt it too, then it wasn't just my imagination running wild.
"But… what is it?" I asked, my voice barely a breath. "What could be following us?"
Nyxara shrugged, a gesture that spoke volumes. "I don't know," she admitted, her brow furrowed in thought. "But whatever it is, it's been careful. It's staying just out of sight, just beyond the reach of our senses. Like an assassin elf."
She straightened, her expression hardening, a mask of forced calm. "We can't let it paralyze us with fear. If we show weakness, if we let it know we're afraid, we'll give it the advantage."
"So, what do we do?" I asked, my voice laced with anxiety.
"We keep moving," she said, her voice firm. "We stay alert, we watch our backs, and we don't give it the satisfaction of seeing us panic. We act as if we are not worried. We pretend we are going for a casual stroll. We will not give it the satisfaction of knowing it is affecting us."
Seems to me that she has always been hunted.
We moved and I couldn't take the hunting and silence any longer. I raised my staff, the runes etched into its ancient wood glowing with a soft, ethereal light. "Show yourselves!" I commanded, my voice echoing through the silent forest. The air crackled with barely contained energy, the elements swirling around me, eager to be unleashed.
Nyxara stood beside me, her expression unreadable, but the shadows around her seemed to deepen, as if anticipating a fight. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl.
Then, a figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the dim light of the forest path. It wasn't a soldier, nor a warlord, but a creature of ethereal beauty, its form shimmering like moonlight on water. It was tall and slender, with skin that seemed to absorb the surrounding darkness, and eyes that glowed with an otherworldly luminescence.
"We mean you no harm," the creature said, its voice a soft, melodic whisper that seemed to resonate deep within my soul. "We have been watching you, yes, but only to ensure your safety."
"Safety?" I scoffed, lowering my staff slightly, but remaining wary. "You call following us through the forest, making us feel like prey, ensuring our safety?"
The creature tilted its head, its eyes reflecting the faint light of the moon. "You are being hunted, Ash,"
It said, its voice filled with a strange sadness. "And not just by the forces of Zaroth. There are other powers at play, forces that would see you destroyed."
"Who are you?" Nyxara asked, her voice sharp and suspicious.
"We are the Silvan," the creature replied, its gaze shifting to Nyxara. "Guardians of the forest, watchers of the ancient paths. We have seen the darkness that stirs, the shadows that lengthen. We know what you carry, Ash, and the danger it represents."
"What danger?" I asked, my grip tightening on my staff. "What do you know that we don't?"
"You carry the legacy of your master, the power to reshape the world," the creature said, its voice growing more urgent. "But that power attracts those who would corrupt it, those who would use it for their own dark purposes."
"Zaroth," I said, my voice filled with bitterness.
"And others," the creature said, its gaze shifting to the shadows beyond. "Forces you cannot yet comprehend. They are drawn to the relics your master spoke of, the instruments of power that lie scattered across the land. And they will stop at nothing to possess them."
"So, you're here to help?" Nyxara asked, her voice laced with skepticism.
The creature hesitated, its gaze flickering between us. "We are here to guide you, to offer what assistance we can. But the path you walk is fraught with peril. You will face trials that will test your strength, your courage, and your loyalty."
"What kind of trials?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Trials of the heart, trials of the mind, trials of the soul," the creature said, its voice echoing through the silent forest. "You will be forced to confront your deepest fears, your darkest desires. You will be tempted by power, seduced by illusions, and betrayed by those you trust."
"And if we fail?" Nyxara asked, her voice cold.
"Then the darkness will consume you, and the world will fall into chaos," the creature said, its voice filled with a chilling certainty.
"But if you succeed, you will become the guardians of light, the protectors of balance, the heroes the world so desperately needs."
The creature paused, its gaze lingering on me. "The choice is yours, Ash. Will you embrace your destiny, or will you succumb to the shadows?"
"We have the wand of whispers. Think about it and come to us."
Before I could ask where I would meet them, the creature shimmered and faded, dissolving into the darkness of the forest, leaving us alone with its words echoing in our minds. I had a feeling it was one of those follow your heart answer.
"Well," Nyxara said, her voice breaking the silence, "that was… interesting."
I nodded, my mind reeling from the encounter. "What do we do now?" I asked.
"We keep moving," Nyxara said, her voice firm. "We find these relics, we stop Zaroth, and we face whatever trials come our way. We don't have a choice."
I looked at Nyxara, her eyes glowing with a fierce determination. I knew she was right. We couldn't turn back now. We had a destiny to fulfill, a world to save.
"Then let's go," I said, my voice filled with a newfound resolve. "Let's find those relics, and let's show them what we're made of."
We mounted our horses and continued our journey, the words of the Silvan echoing in our minds, a constant reminder of the dangers that lay ahead. The path to Alderbrook was still long, but we were no longer just travelers. We were warriors, guardians, heroes. And we would face whatever challenges came our way, together.