*Crack!*

A sharp vibration rang out in the air, rippling through the atmosphere, and broke the silence of the pristine forest. A small current cut through the valley, filling the surroundings with a soft mumble of the stream running through.

With a slight rustle, a rabbit perked up and stared along the water towards the direction of the noise. The green in the air was almost visible, as if nature itself breathed in the picturesque scene.

No signs of disturbance showed in the surrounding forest, having the typical aura of an untouched spot of land, no evidence of civilization anywhere in this forgotten land.

*Crack!*

Once more the sharp noise broke the ambience, causing a disturbance in the air of the otherwise peaceful meadow. As if roused by this foreign element, a slight breeze rose, rustling the leaves of the trees, bending the high flowers and flattening the grass. Hopping down along the treeline, a rabbit nibbled on the greenery, staying near the stream to avoid stronger creatures that hid in the long growth.

Unlike its smaller cousin, the rabbit sported a sharp horn on its forehead, yet it still posed no threat to anything bigger and meaner. Even smaller creatures posed serious danger to a lone rabbit; if the rabbit was outnumbered, that is.

The small animal continued on its path, filling its small belly with all sorts of herbs, flowers, and grass; unaware of the sharp pair of eyes fixated on its white fur.

*Crack!*

Startled, the rabbit dashed into the opposite direction, abandoning all precaution.

Behind it sat a small nest in the grass, hidden at the base of one of the many great trees that made up the forest.

The nest, made up of weeds, long grass stalks, and tiny branches, held four eggs consisting of a white shell with small specks of red, green, black, blue, yellow, grey, and brown for the greater part of the respective shells. Three showed signs of hatching, the fourth already revealed cracks over the surface, ready to hatch.

The cracked egg squirmed away from the others and rolled towards the edge of the nest. A bloodied arm reached down and stopped the rolling egg before it fell outside and shattered. Another pale arm also reached down, to place the egg back into the center of its small sanctuary.

The owner of the arms donned a black and red cloak, the original colour reminding of a deep black, and the dried blood added its own flair. Each of the eggs exceeded the size of the mysterious traveler’s torso, which wasn’t small by any means.

Glancing at the other eggs, he judged that he didn’t have much time left. He wanted to get back to the path before the eggs hatched.

Suddenly, much like the rabbit, the head beneath the cloak jerked up and scanned the surroundings. The calmness in his eyes quivered slightly, giving the impression that his gaze alone could destroy the forest. Suspicion rose inside the cloaked man. Treading lightly, his leather boots inched forward without making a sound, as he tried to catch what felt off about the forest. Nothing in his range of view was out of place, despite the fact that his intuition rang all alarm signals. The metal decorations on his boots never rattled, like he wasn’t walking at all.

Leather pants, adorned much like his boots, gave a slight rustle as the man got down on one knee. The man flinched as a new red flower bloomed on his mantle, which shined with a scaly luster, despite the dirt and encrusted blood.

Unable to see this anomaly anywhere close, but sensing it, a small headshake belied the silent and calm demeanor on display. A ring of air spread out, a small pulse in the air, discernible and centering around the cloak that lifted off the hooded figure. It pressed down on the grass and small scared animals in the vicinity. Unlike the breeze, the ring did not move, but spread at a steady pace. Rippling through the narrow valley, it crossed over the small stream and passed a few trees on the other side – suddenly, the ring broke and created a strong gust, destroying the picturesque landscape.

———————————————————————————————————————–

An older adventurer cowered against a tree, panic in his eyes, waiting for the inevitable attack as a magic broke the illusion magic [Water Screen] that concealed him. He identified the distinguishable ripple in the air as a spell from the wind system of magic, but identifying the precise name wasn’t something he could do. Sweat glistened on his temples, his eyes darting in the direction of the cloaked man, waiting for the rush of motion that signaled the start of combat between mages.

A sharp hissing sent shivers down his back. A sound based attack rated at least seventh rank, the same rank he was. At best they were evenly matched, at worst his opponent was just probing the area, therefore he would be a lot stronger than seventh rank. But no attack struck. The cloaked traveler never moved, but the hissing continued.

Unable to understand why the enemy hissed at him, and unable to properly gauge the strengths of all parties involved, he waited for the other side to make a move. As none of them showed any indication to move, genuine silence spread through the valley, only the stream ever uncaring, continuing to rumble along in a quiet manner.

As he prepared to break off into a sprint, a low voice rose on the other side of the stream, but the adventurer couldn’t understand the language. Shaking his head, his bewilderment showing on his face, and smiling bitterly he was amused that his lack of knowledge might get him into a fight in his old age. Yet, once again the low voice reached his ears, this time asking in the common adventures tongue, “Who are you, and what are you doing here”. Despite the sharp inquiry, the man’s voice sounded tired, about to the same extent as his cloak was torn.

Without giving the adventurer chance to answer, the tired traveler said, “Nevermind, I don’t want to deal with you. Leave, you’re not allowed to be here. Leave and live, or force me to cross this brook and make sure that you can’t tell anyone about this place permanently.”

Neither forceful nor loud, the voice instilled terror into the old elf adventurer. Not because the voice that carried over promised a violent reaction. Nor because it was powerful in its own right. But because it held a finality, a promise that the words were truly absolute.

Not forced to comply, he had a choice.

He could choose to either turn around and run, or stay and regret.

Fleeing the scene, his mind picked up upon the hint that the cloaked traveler let slip up carelessly. That he wanted him gone from this place, this place specifically.

Something remained here, something important enough to force him to raise his bloodied body once again. It might be something minor, it might be something major, but it definitely was something.

Not willing to offend the cloaked traveler, he hesitated, the warning issued stayed present in his mind, prohibiting him from telling others about this incident.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Under these circumstances, obviously the importance of silencing him paled in comparison to other matters the cloaked figure had on hand. Such as: the possibility of the bloody figure being pursued by others and wanting to recuperate, or maybe he placed importance on peace and quiet, this was the border to the wilderness after all.

The cloaked person might have cleared a field dungeon as well and obtained valuable treasures. Formed by the natural power of the earth, field dungeons contained strong monsters, traps, and valuable ores and herbs. The stronger dungeons would contain a boss monster on the last floor as well, which would usually leave behind better rewards, if you manage to slay it, that is.

This was of course something explorers found out through trial and error. Even though the reasons why dungeons appeared remained largely unknown, yet it was quickly accepted as commonplace by the populace. Thus the occupation of explorer and adventurer was born, with the adventurer guild becoming one of the most prestigious and oldest guilds, regardless of which kingdom one was from.

Seeing someone so strong heavily wounded, a struggle against a stronger dungeon boss would explain the sorry state of the mysterious traveler.

Clearing a small dungeon in this part of the wilderness by himself, and going head to head with Eldrin’s magic would put the stranger at the seventh rank at least, which represents an admirable feat in itself. And Eldrin did not want to fight over the others spoils of war.

Depending on the rank of the dungeon, he, himself, might get injured as he embodied a rank 7 adventurer before he retired, his mithril tier guild card one of the last items he still carried with him.

Thoughts rushed through his mind as he rushed through the forest, getting away from the the cloaked traveler as fast as possible.

Once again feeling a sense of confirmation regarding the stranger being at least as strong as himself, Eldrin assured himself that he made the right decision when he fled the scene. In his younger days, fighting over a powerful artifact or mage weapon would have been a possibility, he was a hot headed fellow after constantly getting into fights in bars and having a fair share of enemies. Thankfully he calmed down, after he had incurred enough injuries through meaningless fights, and even more so after he retired and got more in touch with his nature as an elf, enjoying the regular quiet forest domicile he borrowed from a friend.

Alerted by a disturbance in the forest near his dwelling, Eldrin elected to check out the situation. If a strong monster wanted to claim the area for itself, the situation called for a report back to the kingdom, putting up a request at the guild for help, or clearing the danger himself.

And as age welcomed him more and more, he wasn’t sure if he still had the ability to fight at the level he reached as an adventurer.

As the excitement left his body, his breathing became rough and he crouched down to calm himself down. Through his panting he chuckled quite a bit, the moment he contemplated being too old for this, his body gave him confirmation, he was definitely too old for this kind of adventure. Walking back into the direction of his cottage, he compared the stranger to any strong monster he knew of, as the vilest monsters roaming these lands would certainly not lose out to the danger level of a rogue mage or powerful warrior intent on causing damage.

Yet the unknown traveler had not chased after Eldrin, or immediately attacked him on sight. If he truly got pursued by someone else, the problem might solve itself.

Pondering upon this fact, that the chasers might be even more dangerous by their nature, he kept the incident in mind, while he kept in mind to take extra care around this area, but not willing enough to offend the stranger by going back after his strong worded warning.

———————————————————————————————————————–

The cloaked man settled down once again near the nest, looking over the eggs within. While the first egg already had some scales shining through the cracks, the other three also had their first fractures forming. As the role he played in this mission neared its end, he left some slabs of meat, the first meal for the future alpha of the pack. He didn’t bother separating the pile, as the fight over meat would prove as an excellent training exercise and lesson, everything had to be taken through conquest. And if one of the inhabitants of the eggs would be gluttonous enough to tear through all of the meat, that would simply be proof of strength and not a problem for the traveler.

Checking one last time for dangerous entities in the valley, he set off to return to his home and master, looking forward to the future.

If any of the young ones survived, they would become strong, if they died it would be because they had been weak. The race his master belonged to did not place special importance on caring about their offspring, and his relation with this race came only from his father’s side.

Still, he incurred many injuries to take care of the task that his master had given him, as he cleared the valley, the mountain, and even a bit of the forest around them for any beast stronger than rank 5, and everything above rank 3 in the valley.

He wasn’t weak, and even arrived at the lower limit of the 8th rank, but fighting against hordes of monsters still took a lot out of him, and he planned to slow down on the return trip to recover his injuries. And at the end of the day, the appreciation of his master still outweighed any hardship.

Reminiscing for a moment, he missed his moment to make a swift exit and saw the first eggshell break apart. A small, scaled body, with deep black scales that shifted into a vermillion red tip made up the main part of the body. Stunned at the sight of a member belonging to the same race as his master, he lingered for a moment longer, hesitating for a second. Certainly, at the moment this small scaly creature represented the weakest living being in this valley, but he knew its heritage, this assessment would change very rapidly, if they manage to survive and avoid being preyed upon.

Still lost in thought, he watched the scaly little hatchling sniff the breeze with its nose held high and eyes still closed. His scent must be the thing the little one picked up, as the lizard tilted its head in his direction. The moment he prepared to set off, the closed eyes of the first born hatchling opened. Even its scale’s unique colours did not prepare the hooded man for the amazing and unusual spectacle he saw, a pure golden iris with small black rifts in it, surrounded by a pure black pupil. As the iris started to get used to the light, the other eggs also started cracking apart, but at this point in time, no one remained in the vicinity.

Special thanks to Chiisutofupuru for helping me set up this story and editing my first rough draft.