At the academy yard, servants and guards bustled about, loading equipment, readying horses, and securing supplies for the journey ahead. At the centre of the organized chaos, the chief servant directed the efforts with quick, precise orders. “Move the crates out of the way! Only the essentials—leave anything unnecessary behind!”

Nearby, guardsmen inspected their swords, checked their shields, and prepared their mounts. The headmistress arrived, her eyes scanning the preparations. She approached the chief servant, asking, “Are all the supplies loaded?”

The chief servant nodded, replying, “Yes, everything has been loaded and is ready to go.”

The headmistress gave a nod of approval. “Good.”

Just then, Amabel rushed over, slightly out of breath, her hood pulled up to shield her face. “Pardon me, Headmistress,” she began, still catching her breath. “I... I’d like to go to the mine as well. I want to help.”

The headmistress’s expression softened as she gave Amabel an encouraging smile. “Of course. We need all the help we can get. You’re most welcome to join us.”

Amabel’s face brightened beneath her hood, her determination clear as she nodded. She was especially eager to help, knowing her senior, Sylvia, was at the mine. The headmistress gestured to a carriage near the gates. “Go join the other mages there,” she instructed.

After watching Amabel climb into the carriage, the headmistress approached her horse, which a servant held ready. She took the reins, mounted smoothly, and turned to the same guardsman who had delivered the urgent message from the mine. “Lead the way,” she commanded.

The guardsman nodded, urging his horse forward. With the guard at the lead, the convoy followed in a determined procession, the headmistress’s eyes fixed firmly ahead as they set out for the mine.

......

Somewhere at the mine, a lone guardsman wandered further from Sir William's group, his steps slow as he scanned the increasingly ominous terrain. A sudden wind rustled the surrounding trees, and he glanced up at the darkening sky. The clouds had thickened, heavy and foreboding. A storm's brewing, he thought grimly, the air around him tense and heavy.

His attention was abruptly drawn to a low growl. Freezing mid-step, his eyes darted toward the source of the sound—a cluster of bushes up ahead. "What the hell is that?" he muttered, his voice tinged with nervous curiosity.

As the growling intensified, he strained to see through the thick foliage. "It's coming from the bushes," he murmured, his tone uneasy.

From within the shadows, a pair of glowing eyes pierced the darkness. The guardsman breath caught, and he instinctively drew his sword, gripping it tightly as he shifted into a defensive stance. "Stay back!" he called, his voice wavering but firm.

The growling grew louder as a figure emerged, slinking from the shadows—a wolf unlike any the guard, had seen before. Its fur was pitch black, and a faint, smoke-like substance wafted from its body. The wolf's size was staggering, almost as large as a horse, and its glowing eyes locked onto the guard with a predatory intensity. It bared its sharp, gleaming teeth, a snarl reverberating.

Sweat beaded on the guardsman forehead as he took a cautious step backwards, his sword trembling in his grip. The wolf mirrored his movement, inching closer, its growl deep and menacing. Then, without warning, it vanished.

"Wha—?" the guardsman began, but he had no time to react. A blur of motion, a sudden sharp pain, and a bloodcurdling scream tore through the stillness. His sword clattered to the ground, its metallic ring echoing throughout the wood.

“What was that?” Sir William spun toward the woods, his sharp eyes darting through the shadows. The faint rustling of leaves accompanied by distant echoes unsettled the air around him. Sylvia and Professor Gale, standing nearby, immediately grew alert, their expressions tense.

Suddenly, a guardsman emerged from the thicket, his breath ragged as he stumbled toward Sir William. “Sir William! One of our own has been attacked!” he exclaimed, his voice shaking. Fear was etched across his face.

“What? Where? Attacked by whom?” Sir William demanded, his voice sharp and commanding.

“We heard him scream, and when we rushed to his position, there was blood—blood everywhere—but no body was found,” the guardsman stammered. He swallowed hard before continuing, “We… we found his sword lying on the ground.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Sylvia’s face paled with worry, and even Professor Gale adjusted his glasses nervously, his usual muttering absent for once. Sir William’s jaw clenched as he barked, “Gather everyone! Call the others to regroup—I need to assess the situation.”

The guardsman saluted quickly and turned to leave, but another scream pierced the air, this one chillingly close. The group froze. Moments later, several panicked guardsmen burst from the woods, their faces pale and frantic.

“Sir! There’s a—” one of them began, but before he could finish, a prominent, shadowy figure shot out of the trees. The guardsman barely had time to react before the creature snatched him away, dragging him back into the dark woods with terrifying speed. His scream was abruptly cut off, leaving a chilling silence.

“What in the gods’ name was that?” Sir William exclaimed, his voice betraying his shock. He quickly regained his composure and bellowed, “Men, on me! Regroup and ready your weapons!”

The guardsmen swiftly formed a defensive line around Sir William, their swords drawn and shields raised. Sylvia and Professor Gale moved to the rear, their wands at the ready, arcs of faint light shimmering at the tips as they prepared for the worst. The forest fell eerily silent, save for the sound of heavy breaths and the occasional rustle of leaves.

The tension was suffocating. Whatever lurked in the shadows was not done with them yet.

Sweat dripped from everyone’s faces as tension suffocated the air. Sir William’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, commanding, “Hold your position. Stay alert.” His sharp gaze darted to the woods as shadowy figures darted in and out of the trees, their forms obscured by unnatural speed.

Suddenly, a guttural growl rumbled from behind, near the large dead tree blocking the mine entrance.

“Sir William!” Sylvia called out, her voice trembling.

Sir William spun around, his heart sinking as he saw it—a massive wolf stepping out from behind the tree. Its dark, ominous presence loomed over them, its eyes glowing with an unnatural, malevolent light. It moved slowly, deliberately, positioning itself in front of the tree as though guarding it.

“What the hell,” Sir William muttered, gripping his sword tightly and shifting into a defensive stance. His voice was strained but steady as he faced the beast. Sylvia and Professor Gale turned as well, wands raised, their resolve hardening despite the fear etched on their faces.

“It’s…a…a dire wolf,” Professor Gale stammered, his voice shaking as he stared at the creature’s towering form.

“Are you certain?” Sir William asked, not taking his eyes off the wolf.

“Y…yes,” Gale replied, his voice faltering. “But th…this one is m…much bigger…unnaturally so.”

“Black magic,” Sylvia interjected sharply. Her grip on her wand tightened, her expression dark. “I sense black magic emanating from it. It’s corrupted.”

The wolf’s growl deepened, reverberating through the ground. Its sharp white fangs glistened in the faint light as it took a slow, menacing step forward.

Then, from the bushes surrounding the clearing, more wolves emerged. These creatures were smaller, roughly the size of normal wolves, but their black fur emitted the same eerie, smoke-like substance. Their glowing eyes mirrored the menace of the larger beast.

“Sir!” a guardsman called out nervously, his voice betraying his fear.

“Stand your ground!” Sir William commanded, his voice firm. He raised his sword, its steel catching the faint glow of the wolves’ eyes.

The larger wolf growled again, louder this time, the sound like thunder rolling through the clearing. The smaller wolves began to circle the group, their movements calculated and predatory, their glowing eyes never leaving their prey.

At the center of the group, Sir William’s sharp gaze darted around the clearing. Six normal-sized wolves prowled on the periphery, their glowing eyes unblinking. In contrast, the unnaturally massive dire wolf loomed at the block mine entrance. Including Sir William, not counting the two guardsmen that had been taken down earlier, there were nine people in their group—guardsmen, Sylvia, and Professor Gale—stood against the seven wolves.

In his mind, Sir William calculated their odds. "We outnumber them nine to seven, but that larger one… will be challenging."

The wolves tensed, poised to strike, when suddenly, a low chant interrupted the standoff. A piece of parchment, inscribed with a magic circle and ancient incantations, lay on the ground before Professor Gale. His voice, though trembling, carried the weight of arcane power as the circle illuminated with a soft blue light.

The wolves hesitated, their glowing eyes narrowing as magic surged from the circle, shimmering forms burst forth, rushing past the group and materializing into five large, muscular dogs with coats that glistened faintly.

“Is that…?” Sylvia’s voice broke the tension, her astonishment palpable.

“Terean,” Professor Gale replied. His trembling hands steadied as he gestured toward the summoned creatures. “Th...they’re a breed of hunting dogs, b...but these…these are imbued with ma…magic.”

Indeed, the summoned Terean were no ordinary hunting dogs. Larger and more imposing than wolves, their glowing blue eyes and ethereal aura spoke of their magical origin. Energy coursed through their forms, their presence exuding confidence and strength.

“My fa…familiar,” Professor Gale muttered, almost as if reassuring himself. His voice held a hint of pride. Familiars were creatures bonded through a sacred vow, sharing their master’s magic and life force. This connection allowed them to grow faster, stronger, and far more formidable than their ordinary counterparts.

The Terean moved synchronously, positioning themselves between Sir William’s group and the wolves. Their growls were low but resonant, a warning to the predators that dared to approach.

The dire wolf snarled, stepping closer, clearly unperturbed by the sudden reinforcements. Its smaller packmates mirrored its aggression, their eyes flickering with renewed determination.

Sylvia gripped her wand tightly and said, “We can’t let our guard down. These beasts are no ordinary wolves, magic or not.”

“Agreed,” Sir William said, his tone steady but sharp. He raised his sword, nodding toward the guards. “Hold your line! Professor Gale, keep your familiars on the perimeter. We’ll focus on taking the smaller ones out first.”

The Terean growled in unison, their shimmering forms radiating readiness.

The larger wolf, however, didn’t budge. It remained firm, its glowing eyes fixed on the group, watching with an unsettling stillness.