The world spun around Wynn as he opened his eyes. The first thing that hit him was the fresh and crisp air. Looking around everything had returned to normal. Something ate at the back of his mind. The stink, the dead river, and the shadowy tendrils wrapping around him felt like a dream. The whole experience started to feel hazy and he began to question if it had occurred.
No. Without a doubt. He had made a deep connection with Gulf. He had been waiting for this to happen. It was said that everyone has an innate feeling, or even an early experience with the Promise they would resonate with best. He hoped that this was it.
His hands ached as he rushed to get a glimpse of potential Source lines. Rubbing each finger between his thumb, he carefully examined them looking for a trace of anything. He had touched the Source, raw and powerful magic. All he could think about was the thrill of the magic. Then he remembered. A sick sense of dread overcame him as he looked down towards the river. Where was Arne?
There was no sign of Arne anywhere. They usually did not bring much down to the riverside as they were not that far from camp. A bit of dread swept over Wynn as he remembered the raw fear that he had seen on Arne's face as he passed out. He needed to talk to him. He had to explain what happened.
Wynn quickly collected his thoughts and feelings, determined to make it back to camp before Arne. Hopefully, he could catch him on his way, assuming that was where he had fled. Wynn kept a brisk pace down the ridge towards the tree line. The trees seemed to be a relief to any wandering eyes.
Wynn thought to himself for a moment, "I have never felt this way before. Why would I care about what other people saw? Surely the river didn't change."
"Wynn!" A call rang out through the woods. It was a shrill almost chirping scream.
It had a wispy timbre to it but the voice itself called to something deeper within Wynn. He had to go to it. There was no stopping him.
Wynn heard the call again coming from the thicker part of the forest. He found himself pushing through blackberry brambles and purple briar bushes, the tiny thorns catching and pulling at his clothes and skin. Thin red lines appeared all over his legs as he triumphed towards the voice.
He pushed into the clearing. A sense of familiarity washed over him as he found himself at his usual fishing spot on the stream.
"Wynn!", the voice called again coming from the blackberries on the other side of the stream.
Wynn quickly hopped across the stones in the stream, missing the last one. The cold water did not stop him for a second. Pushing through the thickest part of the bushes, he made his way into a small opening.
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A silver circle containing a pentagram was partially covered in the brush. Floating over it, a wispy but humanoid figure reached out towards Wynn. He had never seen a wood sprite this close before or the trap containing it.
"Can you help me? " the sprite pleaded.
"I can try. How do I get you out of this?" Wynn replied.
He had read about these things but generally, it was considered very unlucky to trap a living essence of nature. Though the greedy or unbelieving might deem it worth the risk a captured sprite might serve some value for some forms of alchemy.
Wynn knew that whoever set this trap, was powerful and had a deeper knowledge of natural magic than he did. It might get him wrapped up in even more trouble than he seemed to have already set up for himself.
"Just break the surrounding border! " the wood sprite spat.
Wynn decided quickly that he would help the sprite. He couldn't possibly handle any more misfortune coming his way. Even though he did not set this trap, leaving the sprite in it when he could do something might invite some worse fate.
Hoping that whatever magic was contained within the thin silver frame was not harmful to humans, he placed his boot on the metal edge and grabbed the opposite end with both hands. He leaned back while pulling. A sudden snap and the sprite was free.
He quickly looked up to see the full form of the wood sprite. There was a feminine nature to the sprite's body. Ethereal vines and leaves glowing with energy made up the structure. Towards the top of the sprite, there were two glowing eyes. The amber eyes caught his glance and then instantly vanished, melting into the surrounding forest.
"Well I guess that's thanks, " Wynn thought to himself. Any form of communication with a sprite is fairly rare. He didn't take the abrupt escape personally. He certainly hoped that he truly was alone here and no one had witnessed this event. He picked up the trap and easily broke the rest of the metal frame. This appeared to be real silver. It would be a shame for this to go to waste. The silver was thin enough to snap into rods small enough to fit in a crevice in a nearby tree. He would come back for this. No reason that he couldn't profit a little from his heroic deed.
After creating his hidden treasure trove to visit later, Wynn realized how quiet the forest was. It was like a thick blanket of silence. He could not help but feel like he was being watched. It was time to disappear.
Arne fled as fast as he could from the river bank. His arms still trembled at the sudden onslaught of raw magic that had been thrown against him. At the same time, he felt a twinge of guilt deep inside himself. Experiencing that much power with little experience might have caused irreparable damage to Wynn. The thought of the damage made him shudder even more as he accessed his connection to Gulf within. Had he been damaged in some unknown way?
Part of that was the reason he was running. He had to get to the head of his Order as fast as he could. It was rare to have such a powerful magic manifest in an individual before the Order knew about it. These things were usually measured, carefully. The Promise of Gulf was the original promise made, therefore it was innate in most inhabitants of Fenn. This also meant that most inhabitants showed an earlier aptitude for a connection. Arne had seen nothing of the sort in Wynn. He had almost considered any sort of connection with Gulf to be fairly futile. He had tried to remain positive for Wynn's sake. As he remembered what he saw when Wynn wielded Gulf's power, he shivered and could only hope that those who led the Order could help Wynn.