A question nagged at the edge of Roric's mind as he soared through the night.
'Why were they after the professor?'
The man was a brilliant artisan, a creator of beautiful things, but not a fighter. He was known for his skill, not for his power.
'They need him for something related to artifacts.' Roric concluded silently, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip.
'It has to be about an artifact. Something only he could make or repair.'
The specifics didn't matter now. He would have to ask S.K. himself.
He closed his eyes, focusing inward on the unique, invisible thread that connected him to his former master. The bond was still there, a thin, taut line of energy stretching far into the distance. But its location sent a jolt of surprise through him. S.K. was already nearing the border to Sultanate of Kemet. He was trying to flee the country.
'Whatever he's running from must be truly terrifying.' Roric thought, a cold knot forming in his stomach. For a normal person, that journey meant four days of non-stop, hard travel. S.K. had covered the distance in little over an hour.
Roric understood. The path of Ascension was one of constant change. With each stage up the ladder, the body grew stronger, the presence more commanding. Lifespans stretched, and physical forms became subtly more perfect, more alluring, as they edged closer to something divine. A journey of four days for a mundane man would take Roric, with his enhanced strength and speed, a little over thirty minutes. Saints could travel at speeds approaching or slightly faster than sound when exerting thier full strength to move.
There was no time to waste. He landed in a clearing and using Flow Reinforcement to empower his legs, he bent foward and leaped again. He soared over the dense canopy of the forest , a dark sea beneath the moon. The bond told him S.K. was still alive, a faint but steady pulse at the other end.
' Hold on.' Roric pleaded silently, pushing his body faster.
'Just hold on.'
After a relentless sprint through the wilderness, he saw it: a thick, unnatural blue fog blanketing a portion of the forest ahead. It clung to the trees like a shroud, silent and ominous. Roric dropped from the sky, landing softly and continuing his approach at a run, his senses on high alert.
◇◆◇
Within the fog, S.K. crawled towards and
leaned against a gnarled tree stump, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The fog was his creation, a desperate attempt to hide, but even here felt its effects. It felt heavy, pressing down on him both physically and mentally. His energy was almost spent. Then, through the swirling grey he heard shouts. A figure emerged and without hesitation, moved taking out the men that had attacked him previously. A wave of relief, sweet and brief, washed over him.
"I knew… I knew you would come, Roric," he whispered, his voice weak.
But as the figure stepped closer, the relief curdled into ice-cold dread. The person was shorter and leaner than his pupil.
" Hey,what are you doing, i thuught we wete on the same-"
"Quite." The shrouded individual commanded as a scream escaped the fisrt man. Then there was silnce,the only sound being the footsteps of this new adversary as he approached.
He stepped through the fog,fully revealing himself.
It wasn't Roric.
The features of the man solidified, and S.K.'s eyes widened in horrified recognition.
"You…" he stammered, the word catching in his throat.
"I recog—"
His sentence was cut short. A movement too fast to follow. A sickening, wet sound. S.K. crumpled to the forest floor, his world ending in a splash of crimson that painted the nearby ferns.
◆◇◆
Roric plunged into the fog. It effect was instant worse than he'd imagined. It had a physical pressure, a weight on his shoulders that seeped into his mind, making his thoughts sluggish and dizzy. He couldn't see more than a foot in front of him.
Gritting his teeth, he gathered Flow into his hands, clapping them together with a force that was more than sound. A shockwave erupted from him, blasting the fog away in a wide circle, clearing the air.
The scene that was revealed was one of nightmare. Bodies of armed men lay scattered, their lives ended violently. And in the center of the clearing, lay S.K. Roric's heart seized in his chest. He rushed forward, dropping to his knees. The old man was lying in a dark, expanding pool of blood. Both his arms were gone, torn from their sockets. Worse still, his eyes were empty, bloody holes blood flowing from them like scarlet tears. A low, wounded sound escaped Roric's lips.
He gently cradled S.K.'s head and shoulders, lifting him from the cold ground. "I'm here," Roric said, his voice thick with emotion.
"I'm here now."
A faint breath rattled in S.K.'s chest. He was still alive, but barely holding on. He'd be dead in moments if Roric didn't do something.
At that moment, a shadow detached itself from the trees behind Roric. One of the attackers, The man with the low cut hair and the chain,though wounded, lunged with a silent, deadly strike. Roric, his attention wholly on his dying master, made him too slow to react.
But something else did.
A sharp whizz cut through the air, streaking past Roric's ear so close he felt the wind of its passage. It struck the attacker square in the stomach, blowing a clean hole through him. The man looked down in shock before collapsing.
Roric felt a warm trickle on his cheek. A thin line of blood welled where the projectile had grazed him. He turned to see a young man stumble out from the tree line.
It was Lyle.
He was covered in grime and blood, his clothes torn. He collapsed into a sitting position against a tree stump, his face pale with pain and exhaustion.
"I know you,you're that itinerant boy." Roric said, recognition dawning.
"What are you doing here?"
Lyle coughed, a spray of blood dotting his lips. He held his side, where a deep wound seeped, and his right arm hung limp and useless.
"I sensed something… wrong," he managed to get out, his voice strained.
"Thought it was a spirit and came yo exorcise it. When I got here… this fog was everywhere. Then they attacked me. I tried… I tried to fight them off."
He rested his head against the stump, utterly spent.
"The old man… I think I only managed because he weakened them. I got knocked out somewhere along the line… I just woke up and saw that man attacking you with that chain."
Roric's gaze softened for a fraction of a second.
"Thank you," he said, the words heartfelt.
But there was no more time. A weak, whispering voice drew his attention back down.
"R..oric…do...n...t ....bel...ieve..."
S.K.'s lips barely moved. Roric leaned in close.
"Don't try to speak," he urged.
"Don't worry. I'm going to get help. You're going to be fine. We'll have that dinner. Me, you, and Alaric. And Elara, too. Just like the old days. You'll see."
He placed a hand on S.K.'s chest, pouring his own flow into the broken body. He used a technique known as 'Accelerate Healing,' desperately trying to stimulate the old man's cells, to knit together the terrible wounds, to jump-start his failing heart. He pushed his energy forth, a warm, golden- yellow light emanating from his palm, willing life back into his friend.
But as he pushed, he felt it.
Beneath his hand, the frail, galloping rhythm of S.K.'s heart faltered. It stuttered once, twice, and then fell silent. The body in his arms, which had been tense with pain, went completely limp. The faint, warm light of the flow Roric was transferring sputtered and died.
Before his eyes, the invisible, thread that had connected master and apprentice for so many years… snapped.
A profound silence fell over the forest as the fog dissipated.
The danger was gone. But Roric had lost.
He held the lifeless body of his teacher, his teacher. He looked up at the sky. The moo. Had finally revealed itself and cast its ethereal glow.
Memories began to flash in his mind: S.K. scolding his three most stubborn pupils Himself,Alaric and Elara as they were caught misbehaving in class and the rest of the students trying to stifile a laugh as the light artifact shaped like a bulb they had created cast a glow and caused S.Ks shadow to fool around behind him only to return to normal when he turned.
All of them laughing in pain as S.K. with a grin gave them thier punishment.
All of it was gone now, ended in a pool of blood in a forgotten forest. The bond was broken.