The morning sun cast a soft golden hue over Impsbane as Silas, Rowan, and Layla prepared to embark on their journey to Darkwood Hollow. Their earlier conversation echoed in their minds as they gathered their supplies and headed to the stables. The excitement of a new trial lay ahead, but as with any journey, unexpected challenges awaited them.
Rowan was the first to notice something amiss as they approached the stables. “Wait a minute, how long did we pay for the horses to be stabled?” he asked, a faint crease of worry appearing on his brow.
Silas frowned, recalling their hurried arrival the previous night. “Just for one night, I think. Shit, we forgot to pay for the second night?”
Before Rowan could respond, the stablehand—a gruff man with a weathered face and arms as thick as tree trunks—appeared, blocking their path. He wore a surly expression that suggested he’d been waiting for them.
“You lot,” the stablehand grunted, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the horses. “Your time’s up. That’ll be thirty extra bronze grand era coins for keeping them overnight without notice.”
Rowan’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “Thirty extra coins? That’s three days’ amount. This is daylight robbery!”
The stablehand shrugged, clearly unmoved by Rowan’s indignation. “You were supposed to pick them up last night. Rules are rules.”
Rowan turned to Silas, his voice rising in frustration. “Silas, tell him this is ridiculous! We’re being ripped off!”
Silas sighed, reaching into his coin pouch. “Calm down, Rowan. We’ll just pay the man and be on our way.” He counted out the coins and handed them over to the stablehand, who pocketed them with a satisfied grunt.
Rowan grumbled under his breath, muttering about “wasting money” and “robbery in broad daylight” as he mounted his horse. Layla, who had been watching the exchange with quiet amusement, couldn’t help but smile.
“Is he always like this?” she asked Silas, her voice laced with a hint of laughter.
Silas chuckled as he secured his own saddle. “When it comes to money, Rowan’s very serious—especially if it’s money that could be spent on food.”
Layla giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. “I see. So, food is the real priority here?”
Overhearing their conversation, Rowan flushed slightly and tried to regain his composure. “Hey! I am a merchant’s son, I just don’t like wasting money, that’s all. Especially not on things we could have avoided.”
Layla’s laughter was light and infectious; soon, even Rowan couldn’t help but smile. With their excellent spirits restored, the trio left Imbsbane behind as they rode toward Darkwood Hollow.
☪︎ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・❂
On the first night, as they set up camp, Silas unveiled the portable shelters they had brought—a clever contraption that expanded into a small tent with just a flick of the wrist. Silas, familiar with these shelters from his trip to Temptshire, couldn’t help but feel amused as he demonstrated it again. During their journey to Impsbane, they had stayed at inns, so there hadn’t been any need to use the shelters before now. He smugly watched Rowan and Layla, who were still fumbling with their own. “Jeez… You guys sure are slow. Want this master to teach you how it works?”
For a moment, it seemed Silas had everything under control. His shelter sprang up smoothly, forming a neat, compact tent. He stepped back with an air of satisfaction, arms crossed as if to say, ‘See? It’s just that easy.’
Layla watched with mild amusement. “Impressive,” she admitted, though her eyes gleamed with mischief. “But are you sure it’s not going to collapse on you the moment you step inside?”
Silas shot her a confident grin. “I’ve got this. No need to worry.” But as if on cue, Goldie toddled over and pawed curiously at one of the tent’s support poles. Goldie nudged the pole harder with a playful growl, and the shelter wobbled before collapsing with a soft whoosh, burying Silas in a tangled heap of fabric.
Rowan burst out laughing, nearly dropping his own shelter in the process. “Looks like the tent—and Goldie—won this round!” he teased, barely able to contain his amusement.
Silas, now struggling to free himself from the mess, glared at the bear cub, who was now sitting on his haunches, looking quite pleased with his work. “You little...” he grumbled.
Rowan smirked, shaking his head. “Now then... Need any help from a true master?”
Silas finally relented, “Well... Haha, I could use a hand.”
After they finally managed to untangle Silas from the shelter’s clutches, Rowan caught sight of the serpent coiled around his arm, its scales shimmering. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ve been thinking about a name for you.”
The serpent lifted its head, its yellow eyes fixed on Rowan as if it understood what he was saying.
“How about ‘Trickster’? You’ve got a knack for surprising people, after all,” Rowan continued with a grin.
Silas and Layla exchanged glances and nodded in approval. “Trickster? That’s actually a decent name for once,” Silas admitted. Layla smiled and added, “It suits him.”
The serpent flicked its tongue, seeming to agree with the choice.
Goldie, however, huffed in mild annoyance, nudging Rowan’s leg with his snout as if to remind him of his own less-than-impressive name. He let out a slight, dissatisfied growl, clearly unimpressed that the snake got such a cool name while he was stuck with “Goldie.”
Rowan laughed and reached down to scratch the bear cub behind the ears. “Oh, come on, Goldie. Your name suits you just fine.”
Goldie’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he accepted the affection, though his pride remained somewhat bruised.
It took both Rowan and Layla to free Silas from his self-made trap, with Goldie occasionally attempting to “help” by tugging at the fabric with his teeth. But once they had set up their shelters, they settled around a small campfire. The night was peaceful, with the sounds of crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl keeping them company as they shared stories and warmed themselves by the fire.
The following two days passed similarly, with the group growing more comfortable in each other’s company. They faced a few challenges along the way—a steep hill nearly costing them their horses, a sudden downpour that turned the path to mud, and a particularly aggressive flock of geese that seemed determined to defend their territory—. Still, they overcame each obstacle with skill and sheer stubbornness.
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Finally, on the third day, as the sun entered the night’s embrace, they arrived at the outskirts of Darkwood Hollow. The village lay at the edge of Amberwood Grove, its darkened buildings slumping under the weight of decay. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and rot, the towering trees standing like sentinels against the dying light. A sense of foreboding hung in the air, and the once-vibrant village now stood abandoned, its streets empty and overgrown with weeds.
Silas dismounted his horse first, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement. “This is it,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with the weight of the task ahead. “The Trial of the Devouring Swarm.”
Rowan and Layla followed suit, their earlier lightheartedness fading as they took in the eerie silence surrounding them. The village had an unsettling stillness as if time had stopped when the swarm descended.
Layla, her eyes narrowing in determination, spoke up. “The scrolls mentioned that over a hundred people died here. Their bodies were probaby consumed as well. We need to be prepared for whatever we might find.”
Rowan nodded, his usual bravado replaced with a solemn resolve. “Let’s set up camp a bit further away from the village. We don’t want any locusts attacking us at night. We’ll also need to be well-rested before we go in.”
They quickly set up their portable shelters again, this time without incident, and prepared for the night. The campfire’s glow cast long shadows on the trees as they ate a simple meal in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
As they finished their meal, Silas stood up and called forth Dust. With a graceful wave of his hand, the ground responded, rising up to form a wall around their campsite. Tiny holes perforated the barrier, allowing the cool night air to flow through while keeping anything larger—like the flesh-eating locusts they feared—safely outside.
Layla’s eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the wall take shape. She had heard of Elemental Magic, but seeing a human wield it so effortlessly was another thing entirely. “Silas,” she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper, “how… how can you do that? I thought only Sprites had that kind of power.”
Silas shrugged, his expression unreadable in the flickering firelight. “It’s a long story,” he said, brushing off her amazement as if it were nothing unusual. But to Layla, it was as though she were seeing him for the first time—a human anomaly, standing before her with powers that defied everything she thought she knew.
The night in Darkwood Hollow was unlike any they had experienced before. The air was thick with the scent of decay, each breath tinged with the acrid taste of rot. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint, unsettling rustle of leaves. Even the animals seemed to have fled, leaving the village to the mercy of the looming swarm. The weight of the darkness pressed down on them as if the very woods were holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
As they settled into their shelters, the weight of the trial ahead bore down on them. The abandoned village, with its empty streets and silent houses, seemed to hold a thousand secrets—and at the heart of it all, the deadly swarm awaited them.
But despite the fear and uncertainty, Silas, Rowan, and Layla’s bond had grown stronger. Together, they knew they could face whatever challenges lay ahead. As the first stars twinkled in the sky above, the three companions drifted off to sleep, knowing that the actual trial would begin with the dawn.
☪︎ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・❂
The night passed in eerie silence, punctuated only by the distant rustle of leaves. While Silas, Rowan, and Layla took turns sleeping, one of them always remained awake, their senses alert for any sign of the flesh-eating locusts. The silence was unnerving, as if the village itself held its breath, waiting for something to happen.
The night passed with an eerie stillness, and the group remained on high alert, expecting at any moment the wrath of the flesh-eating locust swarm that had decimated Darkwood Hollow. But nothing stirred.
When the first light of dawn touched the horizon, Silas, Rowan, and Layla emerged from their shelters, the night’s tension still weighing heavily on them.
Rowan scanned the treeline with a frown. “Not a single locust all night,” he muttered. “You’d think they’d at least try to attack with us being this close.”
Layla nodded, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Maybe they’re hiding, waiting for us to get closer. This stillness… it feels like a trap.”
Silas was trying to consider every possibility and was deep in thought. “We can’t just walk into the village without knowing what we’re up against. We need to measure the swarm’s strength first.”
With a decisive nod, Silas stepped forward and raised his hand, calling upon the earth element. Dust responded eagerly, the ground beneath them shifting and rising as Silas formed a massive boulder, easily as large as a small house. Its rough surface gleamed in the early morning light, a testament to Silas’s command over the earth.
“Breeze,” Silas called, and a gentle gust of wind circled around him, playful yet powerful. Breeze propelled the boulder into the air with a flick of his wrist, sending it hurtling toward the centre of Darkwood Hollow.
The boulder arced through the air before crashing into the village, shattering what remained of the rotting structures. For a heartbeat, the village held its breath. Silence hung heavy in the air, stretching until the ground seemed to shudder. Then, with a deafening roar, the swarm erupted.
They poured out like a black, churning wave, filling the sky with the sound of a thousand buzzing wings. Each locust was monstrous, about five inches long, with jagged mandibles and eyes that gleamed with a sinister intelligence. Their bodies, covered in spiked exoskeletons, resembled the twisted, nightmarish creature Silas, Rowan, and Layla had feared. Their sheer number was staggering—tens of thousands, if not more—turning the sky into a writhing mass of darkness.
The swarm was agitated, but despite the group’s proximity, the locusts did not leave the confines of the village. Instead, they circled above, their agitation growing as they detected the group. The strange behaviour did not go unnoticed.
Rowan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why aren’t they attacking? They’ve seen us, and they’re clearly riled up.”
Layla, her eyes never leaving the swarm, shook her head. “Something’s not right. They should have swarmed us by now.”
Silas frowned as well. “Let’s see what happens when we push them a little further.” He gestured toward Dust again, and another boulder rose from the earth, even larger than the first. With Breeze’s help, Silas launched it toward the locusts.
As the boulder neared the swarm, this time, the locusts reacted with terrifying speed. They descended upon the boulder like a cloud of destruction, their powerful mandibles ripping into the stone. To the group’s shock, the locusts didn’t just destroy the boulder—they consumed it. Nothing was left of the massive rock within moments except a fine powder that drifted to the ground.
Rowan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Did they just… eat that boulder?”
Silas nodded slowly, his expression grim. “These aren’t just any flesh-eating locusts. What the hell are these things?! And the fact that they’re not attacking us even though they know we’re here… it’s almost as if they’re waiting for something.”
Layla’s voice was tense. “This doesn’t make sense. If they can consume something as hard as rock, they should have no problem tearing us apart. Why are they holding back?”
The group exchanged uneasy glances. Something about the situation didn’t add up, and the locusts’ behaviour only deepened the mystery. It was clear that a direct assault on the village would be suicide without a better understanding of what they were dealing with.
Silas took a deep breath, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the puzzle. “We need a plan. We can’t just charge in there. If these locusts are waiting for something, we need to figure out what it is and why. Until then, we have to be cautious.”
Rowan nodded in agreement. “We need to scout the area, look for anything that might give us an edge. Maybe there’s something in the village itself that’s controlling them, or maybe there’s a reason they’re not crossing that boundary.”
Layla added, “We also need to figure out how to neutralise them. If they can eat through rock, we need to find something they can’t digest or maybe even something that could poison them.”
Rowan replied, “I’m not too sure about you, but we don’t have any poison on our hands right now.”
Layla sighed. “Me neither… Well, in any case poison might work, but the amount of quantity we might need would be ridiculous.”
Silas shook his head. “No, it’s still the right line of thinking. We need to find their weakness.”
Silas, Rowan, and Layla knew they were in for the fight of their lives. The swarm was unlike anything they had ever encountered, and it would take all their wits and skills to overcome it. But one thing was sure—they couldn’t back down. They had to complete this trial after coming this way and wasting precious time.
As they huddled together, the first rays of the morning sun broke through the trees, casting long shadows over the cursed village. The trial had begun.