p marrow of winter, a time when the Sun, that distant and dying light, held no sway.
But the cold that winter harboured wasn't just a frosty bite that made the hairs on someone's arm bristle; it was a metaphor.
The human mind instinctively understood it as not only an external feeling but an internal one. It was like an invasive presence that seeped its maws deep within one's soul, reminding all of loss, of silence and of the void within people's hearts.
People could be surrounded by so many people, and yet, they would be lonely. It especially stood true for a particular person, who was an aspiring adventurer burdened by his choices.
Amongst those adventurers who were reflecting on their choices in the guild of the Hollow Veil, various discussions were occurring, but the one that was perhaps the loudest rang clear to many people, "Learna, ent' you made enough coin to get out of this place? The tournament a month back set you up good, didn't it?"
Learna spoke modestly, not to flaunt the fact that she had placed highly in the Eclipse Tournament. "You speak too highly of me, Dane. It was only thanks to your support that I got so far." A hand rested on her chest, feeling the memories of her trials, the sting of the moment she was defeated.
The memory of her final opponent, the one who had scarred her with third place, was ingrained in her mind. Yet it was not the defeat that haunted her. Learna was not one to sulk over a loss; she sought to grow from them, no matter how devastating.
What she truly wanted, as a result of her defeat, was to understand her opponent.
In her battle, she had faced a young man with a resolve like none she had ever seen. It was there, plain in his eyes. They burned with the fury of a past so daunting she would have broken under its weight. He fought as if it were his last battle, a solemn, flaring rage burning in his core.
She shook her head, smiling. "I still need to work hard in this guild, Dane. All the family I have left are in Baratheon. Why would I venture outward? They all need me."
Dane rubbed his fingers through his brittle beard. "You're too kind for your own good. Gets people killed. Yet, even if someone had a blade at your neck, you'd find the good in 'em. That's why we love ya."
Many adventurers surrounding Learna raised their cups of ale, cheering for Learna Lovett, a fifteen-year-old fifth-tier wind mage of the Hollow Veil Guild.
Their celebration died as a young man flung open the guild doors, his hair a mess from the wind, his breath ragged in his throat. "Trouble! TROUBLE! A fourth-tier beast from the Forest of Dreams has emerged!"
Dane looked around in frustration. "Shit. We ain't got any tier four mages right now. Half of 'em are out with the chief."
He was not alone in his hesitation. Many within the guild were not ready to face a fourth-tier creature; one such beast could easily match ten, if not twenty, tier five mages. Yet in such times, someone had to step forward.
Learna rose from her chair, narrowing her eyebrows and raising her staff. "Are we wimps? No! We are the Hollow Veil Guild, one of the most respected in the entire kingdom. We do not back down from challenges, least of all those that threaten the innocent and defenceless. We are their swords. We are their staffs. Everyone who wishes to come, follow Dane and me."
Dane looked at Learna, admiring the passion she held.
'That's just how she is, even if the odds are weighed against her, she'll still keep movin' on'
He chuckled nervously, a bit tipsy. He sighed. "Ah, if an old grunt like me lacks the balls, at least you don't." He stood, feeling the inspiration from her words coiling through him, and went to grab his staff.
Following suit, eight other members equipped themselves with armour, potions, staffs, and swords. An equal mix of swordsmen and mages, all ranging from tier six to tier five, soon grouped together by the lead of Learna and Dane.
Frantically, the messenger led them to the Forest of Dreams.
Baratheon's history was known not only as a hub for adventurers, but also as home to one of the most ancient forests on the continent. The Forest of Dreams spanned a fourth of the landmass, home to creatures born from the chaos of the Great War of Succession.
At its centre, it was said to hold ancient equipment or knowledge from that war. Yet none had ever reached it, none had ever dared. Similar in nature to the Fallen Kingdom, it held beasts, but not the usual kind. Various creatures emerged, always replenishing, no matter how many died.
That was the problem. With a self-replenishing stream of creatures, they were bound to venture out, but not for long. The forest's purple fog seemed to sustain them; without its presence, they could only last so long.
But how long? How long can a fourth-tier sustain itself without the forest? Learna stressed a minute? No, too little. Think. If each tier from six to one increases strength by a factor of four to ten, then we must last... at least 8 minutes...
"Messenger!" Learna called through hurried steps.
He looked back, exhausted by the pace. "How long since the sighting?"
He calculated on his fingers. " 3 minutes! It should be just another minute now!"
Three minutes... An uncomfortable feeling settled in her gut, the cold grip of fear. Though it wasn't the fear that was usual.
She didn't fear the creature for what it could do to her, but what it could do to others. She couldn't bear seeing its ferocity befalling anyone she knew or held dear.
Dane called out to her, offering assurance. "Don't worry, Learna! The kids probably spread the word across the entire city. We don't need to hold it off as long as ya' think!"
Relief washed over her swiftly as she acknowledged Dane's words. It was reasonable; all they had to do was last a minute or two before help would arrive.
A minute passed in frantic strides. Boots slammed against dirt, faster, faster, until even the sound of their own breath was drowned under the chaos.
The hiss of fire came first, sharp, crackling, like the laughter of something cruel.
Then the groan of wood splitting apart, shrieking as beams tore and fell.
Ash clogged the air, heavy and suffocating, coating their tongues in bitter dust.
And beneath it all,...the cries. High, desperate and fading too quickly.
The group of mages darted forward, forcing themselves until they saw it.
The 4th-tier abomination.
It loomed amid the ruins, its claws lodged between a building that was reduced to almost nothingness. But when the warriors appeared, it stopped.
Silence swept in, sudden and jarring. Collectively, many tier 6 mages gulped as the creature turned.
Then they saw it fully.
Fangs glistened beneath a twisted visage. A body that shouldn't exist was exposed. It had predator legs, extremely toned like a cheetah's. The upper half gleamed in a sheen of blackened chitin, pinchers twitching, mandibles flexing.
And perhaps what was the most terrifying were the hundreds of eyes that locked onto them, wide and unblinking. Their mirrored reflections showed the entire group, exposing all the feelings they were trying to keep restrained.
Dane "Everybody, watch out! This beast is called a Blightstalker, and it's the speed t—"
Abruptly, with a flex of its muscles, it appeared before the entire party. It looked down with alien, horrifying eyes and slashed its scythe-like arm at them. Multiple shield bearers launched forward, whilst Dane raised his staff, not fully understanding how outclassed he was.
With a swing that glided through the air, it shattered the iron shields, propelling three men as if they were weightless towards a tree, a deafening and unmistakable crunch ringing clear in everyone's ears.
Dane's eyes widened, muttering, "...Th-Three shields and men just like that?" He felt the grip around his staff loosening, but Learna took a different approach.
Immediately, she realised that she was the only one here who stood some chance against his speed. In the continent of Elaijya, incantations were the standard for casting spells, and many styles had been developed in order to increase the potency or speed, but something that was exclusive to a few mages was one she had learned from Tristan Godfrey in the eclipse tournament.
Broken spell casting.
It was an old technique passed down through nobility.
By muttering a few letters, she could activate her magic immediately.
So she did.
A plethora of wind magic coiled around the emerald orb on her staff, and debris from the surroundings was being lifted, gravitating towards the wind mana that was circulating. The beast looked down and once again raised its pincer.
A torrent of power tore outward and compressed air, exploded into a gale that slammed against the abomination's plated body. The ground quaked as the beast staggered back, dust and debris spiralling in the storm. Then, with a flick of her mana, the gale fractured; splitting, scattering, reforming.
Blades of wind lashed from every angle, hammering its metallic frame with unrelenting force.
Learna's chest heaved. She almost allowed herself a smile. It's working.
But as the cloud of ash and dirt peeled away, her breath caught in her throat. The chitin shimmered, unscarred. The monster's body was untouched.
"Damn it…" she whispered.
"Oi!" Dane's voice cracked through the haze. He shouldered forward, eyes locked on the abomination. Then, he turned to the rest of the court, barking an order, "By some time, we need more power to shatter its shell. I'll combine strength with you, Learna!"
The rest of the mages hesitated, but then, they all swarmed the beast from multiple angles, ensuring that they would hold it off.
Dane skidded beside her, mana already seething off his arms in raw sparks. Together, their energy intertwined, shaping, bending, moulding. A single form took shape between them: Zephyr's Turret.
"The fucking beast's hide isn't gonna break." Dane's teeth clenched as he forced more mana into the coalescing spell. "You remember this spell, don't you? Zephyr's turret, you used it against him in the tournament. We shape our mana into an arrow, one meant to pierce, not blast. That's our only chance."
The other mages rushed in to hold the line. Fire erupted, swords flashed, chants rang through the smoke. But even with their numbers, one by one, they were swatted aside. Flames died against chitin. Blades snapped against mandibles. Screams choked the air.
Learna's heart twisted. She could see them falling, comrades, friends, but the arrow wasn't ready. Not yet. Just a little more. Her hands trembled as the spell grew denser, hungrier for mana.
And then the beast turned.
Its countless eyes locked onto them. Its legs coiled, muscles bulging beneath the predator's flesh. Dane's gut clenched cold. It's coming for us.
If it reaches Learna, we're finished. Dane gritted his teeth, knowing what he would have to do.
"I need to make sure she finishes this." The thought lanced through him. "Help'll come, but if we fall here, none of it matters."
He bared his teeth, shoved his fear down, and stepped forward. "Guess it's me, then. I don't get paid enough for this shit."
Dane looked over his shoulder, peering at Learna's worried face, "Finish the spell for me, won't ya?"
"Dane, wait!" Learna's voice cracked, pleading with him not to go forward.
He ignored it. Mana burst from his body as he hurled himself into the monster's path. The metallic Chitin met the ferocious wind mana, his energy clashing against its sheer weight. Sparks lit the air. The ground split beneath their struggle. But it wasn't enough. The beast's strength dwarfed his.
"Damn it, uproar!" He chanted, and a circulating formation of wind spurred from the creature's feet in an attempt to raise it from the ground. It did momentarily, but in the next moment, everything had changed.
"DANE!" Learna's scream ripped through her throat.
Blood spewed from his mouth, and he looked down at his chest, which was scarred with red. His blood sprayed as he turned to Learna, putting up a thumbs-up. He quickly fell to the floor, and the monster barely seemed to notice his display of 'defence'.
"DANE!" Learna's scream ripped through her throat.
The creature lunged. Straight for her.
He didn't buy enough time, her spell...it wasn't ready. It wasn't perfect. There was no time left.
Her teeth dug into her lip as she made her choice. With a final shove of her mana, she released it.
The arrow screamed to life. A roar of raging wind cracked the battlefield with a thunderous boom, and the pressure flattened all the wildlife in its wake. Learna swayed, dizzy from the mana she'd poured in, but she held her gaze steady.
The arrow spun violently, a drill of howling air. It struck the beast's chest with cataclysmic force, the tip grinding, biting, twisting against its iron hide.
"Pierce…!" Learna's hand shot forward, flooding more mana into the shaft.
From the dirt, Dane's trembling hand rose too, his bloodied palm feeding what little energy he had left.
For a moment, just one breathless moment, it seemed the arrow might break through.
But then...
The abomination's body pulsed. A surge of immense, suffocating energy erupted outward. The weight of it crushed them flat to the earth. The arrow's spin faltered, shredded by the wave.
Learna's vision blurred as the pressure bore down on her bones, forcing the air from her lungs.
And when the light faded, the monster still stood. Unbroken. Unmoved.
"Dane..." she muttered, looking up as the creature reared back its pincers for another attack.
She thought back to her last opponent in the tournament. If it were him, if he were here, he would keep fighting, I know it. So why can't I raise my hands, why can't I fight through the nausea, why can't I be as strong as him?
The beast walked toward Learna, and with each thud, Learna only grew more distasteful of her end. Is it seriously going to be how it ends? What about my younger brothers, they'll have no one...I can't go out like this.
The beast finally arrived at Learna's exhausted body and, not even bothering to use its full ability, it struck down to cleave her in two.
At least, it would have.
Its arm, raised ready to cleave the young mage, was surgically sliced off. Neither the tier-six nor the tier-five magic she or her companions had used could have done this.
The beast stepped back, snarling in pain and hopelessness, looking at its stump spewing blood. Frantically, it looked around. Learna also searched for what could have done it.
She could sense or see nothing. Even Dane and the others looked on in confusion.
"Airi, lend me your destructive flame." A voice called from the shadows.
From the shadows, Learna witnessed a sword burning with incredible flames, the memory of her first battle replaying in her mind.
But instead of running toward the beast, instead of showing fear, he walked without a trace of satisfaction or sadness on his face. He moved like a silent, emotionless killer, his sword spewing flames that incinerated the nature and trees around him.
The beast shook its head in anger and roared a guttural scream, vowing not to go down without a fight. Mana radiated from its legs, covering impossible distances in seconds. It moved so fast that afterimages were created.
Even then, his face did not falter.
Learna spoke, hope igniting her heart. "It's you. It's you, Xerxes."
Raising a bandaged arm that held the sword, illuminating the night, he slashed at the creature mid-movement. The clanking metal noise of its speed fell silent.
A loud thud resounded beside Xerxes.
The beast fell to its knees, and before its body could land, its decapitated head hit the ground first.
Xerxes nonchalantly reached for its sternum and, with brute physical strength, plunged his fist forward, grabbing its soul fragment. His emerald eyes peered at Learna and the other adventurers. "I've no use for this. Have it."
He chucked the soul fragment, which Learna fumbled to catch.
"I can't accept this, you saved us!" Learna said ademntaly
"I've already killed the same creature hundreds of times; I don't need any more."
Then, he adjusted his fur-lined cloak and started to walk past the party he had so easily saved.
"Xerxes, wait! You never gave me a chance to talk after the tournament! Let me speak to you!" Xerxes stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder.
"There is nothing to talk about, Learna." Xerxes raised his hand, fire mana sprawling from it. "Tier Four Fire Mana: Healing Flame."
A wave of warm, soothing flames fell over the entire party, their gashes and wounds gradually closing.