Valen ran through the forests, his dark green cloak and brown robes flapping wildly due to his speed. He was cursing under his breath as he felt his already tight grip on his staff tighten further, making him glad he had very low Strength, or he probably would have snapped the wood staff in half.

"You can't get away, Traitor!" A voice screamed at him, as a bolt shot past his head. "You'll pay for what you did!"

"I didn't do anything!" Valen leaped over a tree root, spinning as he did so. He pointed his staff at one of the four figures, two who have cloaked similarly too him, and two wearing dark leather and carrying crossbows and daggers. He aimed at the figure who had just fired. "[Blooming Lance]!"

A bolt of green energy shot from the head of his staff. Going at a speed faster than any normal bolt, and slightly homing in on its intended target, the bolt slammed into the man's chest. Thorny vines and brightly colored flowers erupted from his chest, all coated in fresh blood, and wrapped around him. He became trapped in a cocoon and fell, the vines stabbing into and rooting into the soil beneath him.

Sweat bedded Valen's forehead as he hoped that the others would try to save the man, which was actually rather possibly. The Tier 6 spell, [Blooming Lance], was widely considered to be the least damaging of all the "Lance" spells.

That didn't make it any less costly though, and Valen could feel the effects of the Mana Fatigue already kicking in.

"You bastard!" The other figure screamed as he fired his own bolt, but it missed.

And, unfortunately for Valen, none of them many any move to halt their chase.

"Dammit," Valen muttered, and that was when the ground below him erupted. Sharp, giant thorns erupted upwards, several grazing him and tearing his robe and cloak to tattered. The problem, though, was definitely the one that went through his ankle and tore a massive hole that pretty much destroyed his Achille's heel.

Screaming in pain, Valen collapsed. He struggled to rise, putting a hand over the remains of his left foot and weakly muttered, "[Regentre Wounds], [Nature Reinforcment]."

The spells took effect, and the pain faded mostly and Valen was able to stand, though he had to lean on his staff for support and could no longer run.

The tallest of the three figures, and the one who had no doubt cast the [Thorn Mine], walked forward. He was an aged old man, which would cause most o wonder how he had kept up with Valen, who was only twenty-eight.

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Valen smirked. "Archdruid Volo, please forgive me. My ankle is rather numb at the moment, so this lowly adept cannot bow."

The other druid, an Adept much like Valen, stepped forward. Her red hair seemed to match the fire in her eyes perfectly. "How dare you try to make a joke in your situation, you damn traitor."

Valen just chuckled. "Hello, Kathrine, it's good to see that even in light of current events, you are no less of a bitch than you were the day we met seventeen years ago."

He had to stop himself from bursting out laughing as a somewhat hurt expression fluttered across her angry features. The truth was that they had been rather close friends, almost like siblings. It was why his betrayal, and that comment, stung her so badly.

"Have you really been deceiving us all this, Valen?" Archdruid Volo muttered as he stared into Valen's eyes, trying to discern what had happened to his most promising student. "Have you always been a wolf in sheep's clothing?"

"Wolf in sheep's clothing?" Valen actually laughed this time. "As I said, I didn't do anything, Master."

"Don't try to bluff me, boy," Volo growled. "We found the maps, we checked the site. Where is it? You should know it is forbidden magic of the highest degree!"

Valen sneered. "You asked me the day we met, the day you took me as your apprentice, what I would do to fulfill my dream! Have you really forgotten my answer? What, going senile?"

"No, I remember. You told me you would do anything." The aged man's features softened. "I had hoped that during your years as my apprentice, you would change. I had hoped the happiness around you would cause you to forget your blood-soaked dream-"

"Forget? FORGET?" Valen hissed. "I won't EVER forget, nor will I EVER forgive! I will have my revenge on those bastards! No matter the cost!"

Kathrine's angry turned to pity, and Volo sighed softly as he spoke. "Yes, I see that now. I see I failed."

Then, a determined look entered his eyes, "but even though I failed you, that doesn't mean and can let you walk away with that! It's too dangerous Valen! You risk your very soul!"

"A risk I gladly take, Master," Valen spat the word, "if it means I will have the power to finally take my revenge!"

Valen pulled out a gleaming dagger with a silver crossguard and handle, and a pure black blade that looked as if it were made of obsidian. In the hilt of the blade was small purple stone. Valen raised the blade.

"NO! VALEN! DON"T!!!" Kathrine screamed.

"VALEN! STOP!" Archdruid Volo shouted as he lunged forward toward Valen.

It was the other guard who acted first, however, firing his crossbow, which went through Valen's throat.

With a grin and gurgling laugh, Valen plunged the dagger into his heart.

Darkness exploded from Valen, knocking the other three back. The skin on Valen's body, as well as his clothing, all turned black as ink and then seemed to liquify, forming a sludgy puddle. The purple stone turned clear as a gemstone, and a whirlpool of whitish-blue light erupted in the center of the stone, and then, with a bright flash, it vanished.

And the dagger, its blade now white as an angel's feathers, fell to the ground.