The Knight looked confused as he studied me. I suppose he was expecting a weak, scared girl ready to burst into tears at first sight of salvation. I wonder if I should bother to act like such a girl, but quickly banish the thought. Far too much trouble.

“I’ll get you out of those chains,” he said, before slowly and carefully drawing his sword. “Try not to move.” Then he raised his shimmering sword.

While he slowly worked on hacking away at my chains, I took my time to slowly examine him. He was a young man for knight, seemingly somewhere in his mid to late 20s. He looked distinctly rugged and male, with a square jaw covered in stubble to emphasise that fact. His eyes were a distinct warm brown, matching his tied-back brunette hair perfectly. I couldn’t see his figure behind his heavy armour, but if his ease of movement was anything to by, he must be considerably strong and muscled.

His armour was a rather expensive looking set. Likely a form of magical iron or silver I was not aware of. Looking at it now, it was rather dirty. Flecks of rock, dirt and mud smeared across its surface, marring what I would expect to be a flawless shine.

I slowly look up to find his sword to be just as exquisite. A long, flat blade slowly hacks away at the hard metal that holds me here, impressively keeping its edge even when being crudely used as an axe. A curious creation to be sure, and upon touching it with my mana, most certainly made with magic.

The mana emitting from the blade is faint, but definitely the distinct workings of a powerful mage. Not quite up to par with me, but powerful in their own right, to be sure. It felt as if the metal had been forged while weaving magic into it, and I found myself acutely curious on just how much magic was contained within. The mana itself felt of a controlled but powerful fire.

Before I could inspect further, I heard, or rather felt the chain give way, and almost fell to the floor. Luckily the Knight managed to catch me with his left arm, holding me gently but firmly as he slowly lowered me to my feet.

Unfortunately, as soon as I touched the ground my legs gave way, muscles spasming after being unused for so long. I fell unceremoniously to the ground, my legs sprawled out to my sides. Luckily I managed to find my bearing by bracing my hands on the floor, but even the muscles there burned with pleasure and pain.

Even an immortal can suffer from sore muscles it seems, even if not for long. A running theme with my many abilities.

While the Knight rushed to my side, and rested his hand on my back, I felt the muscles slowly correct themselves. Painfully breaking down and reconstructing stronger and better than before.

“Are you able to stand?” The Knight asks, evidently not aware of my new muscles forming as they were.

Deciding actions were better than words, I slowly came to my feet, legs screaming but complying nonetheless.

He looked to the door, “Let’s get you out of here.” He said.

I shook my head, I had one last thing to do, before then. I gently tugged him to the wall and pointed at one of the many crystals imbedded in the thick stone. I didn’t wish to leave so much of my mana behind, and while I couldn’t collect it, the crystals had to be destroyed.

He gave me a strange look, “You want me to destroy them?”

I gave a stern nod. Well he wasn’t stupid at least.

He quickly began working on removing the stones, alternating from prying them loose with his sword, to merely tearing them out with brute strength. The latter surprised me, but I quickly decided that it shouldn’t. A Knight wouldn’t be so weak as to be stopped by a mere chunk of stone.

Soon enough, he laid them out in a small pile. They were all identical, and about the same size as my fist. Large, but not uncommonly so.

He then began rummaging through a pack located in the small of his back, and pulled out another crystal. And that…that was large. It equalled nearly three times the size of the others, and I could feel my magic radiating from it. That crafty old bastard actually had another…perhaps he wasn’t as stupid as I thought.

If he used that crystalproperly, he would have been able to contain me a lot longer, perhaps even for the rest of his miserable life. I gave a small shudder at the thought, not wanting to remember his cruel poking and prodding any longer.

The Knight rested the large crystal in the centre of the mass, and readied his sword once again. I felt my eyes widen as I watched his sword grow brighter. I didn’t peg him for a mage, but I suppose I was wrong.

I watched his mana curl around the blade, and found it an interesting site to behold. His mana felt of a soothing breeze, just warm enough to be pleasant, but cold nonetheless. As his blade grew brighter and hotter, he jolted and looked at me as if he suddenly remembered I was in the room. He shifted his position, forcing me back, and wedged himself between me and the crystals.

As soon as I was out of the way he brought his blade down, and I heard the audible crash as the crystals shattered. My mana, to which I imagined would be visible to even the weakest of the magically inclined, exploded throughout the room. And to my amusement, caused the metal clad Knight to step back from the violent burst.

Soon enough my mana dissipated from the air, losing its strength, form and power. Thus was the life of mana, short and sweet no matter how violent. Unless moulded by a mage, or in this case, trapped within a medium.

The Knight, now recovering from his daze, stared suspiciously as the remains of the crystals. Yet he said nothing more. He turned around and eyed me all around, looking for injuries I would imagine. Finding none he spoke, “It is time to leave.”

Speaking for the first time, I replied, “Yes, I would imagine so.” I knew my voice was cold, almost calculating. Not one you would expect from a captive that chained to the ceiling not a moment ago, I’m sure. But I found no want or need to hide it.

Despite the magic draining cuffs around my wrists, my mana was slowly returning, albeit slower than it normally would have. After all, it took the old man dozens of crystals to contain me, a small chunk of metal wasn’t going to do the job.

The Knight leading the way, I slowly ascended the stairs, to which my now reformed muscles had little trouble with, and passed the second steel door leading to my cell. The Knight cautiously glanced at me now and then over his shoulder. Probably worried I might fall down, I deduced.

As we approached the door of the old man’s shack, I found myself visible pouting, “Damn,” I cursed.

The Knight gave a me a strange look, “What?”

I pointed towards the dead old man at the doorway, “I wanted to kill him myself.”

Despite looking initially shocked at my pronouncement, the Knight gave me a wry smile, “Sorry.” Suddenly, the Knight looked strangely solemn, now staring at the old man’s corpse.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

Still staring at the corpse, he said, “I don’t think I asked for his name.” Tearing his eyes from the man lying in a pool of his own blood, he stared into my eyes, “Or yours for that matter.” Before I could answer, he continued, “I am called Taurean.”

I’m not sure how I feel about getting second consideration to a corpse, but I answered nonetheless, “Eir. My name is Eir.”

=

After our introduction we settled into a comfortable silence.

Raiding the old man’s home, and coming away with a travel bag, various bits of dried meat, and a canteen. After packing our prize, Taurean helped me put the pack on, as the clunky manacles still closed around my wrists made the task quite a chore.

With a small gesture the Knight then passed over the old man’s body and lead the way into the forest. I wondered if he was going to bury the body, but like me he seemed content to leave him to the beasts.

“So,” I asked, “where are we anyway?”

With a slight turn of his head he answered, “The Deep Wood.”

I strained my mind trying to remember the name. If I remember correctly, The Deep Wood was located somewhere in Etania, one of the newer yet larger kingdoms of the south. From what I heard there is little strife. In fact, I could not recall a war in the past few decades in which Etania took place in.

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So, if we are in Etania just how far did that geezer take me? I swear I was in the north when I was first made captive. Well, that is a thought for another time.

I wanted to confirm my suspicions, “So-” but was cut short.

Interrupting me, a rather large monster leapt from the brush, attempting to take me in its maw. Luckily, I managed to stumble back in time, barely dodging its sharp-looking teeth. Dire Wolf, an A-class threat if I remember right.

Taurean leapt in front of me, shielding me from the hulking behemoth that people dared call a wolf. It was incredibly large, three or four times the size of a normal wolf with more muscle than magic – and it had a lot of magic.

Sensing its power, and not knowing the extent of Taurean’s, I pulled a long dagger poking out from Taurean’s pack. If he noticed, he didn’t comment or complain.

A beasts’ mana always managed to remain the same, but grew richer and larger with age and power. They actually had a similar feel to mine, both wild and untamed, yet they had one distinct difference. They always felt more primal, that hint of an animal that signalled it held no reasoning. They may feel fear, they may feel pain, but they act on pure instinct – kill, eat, survive.

That isn’t to say they cannot be tamed, but it is a task to be sure, even for me.

The Dire Wolf glared at the man who dared obstruct its hunt, and began to pace. Taurean just glared back, focusing on the beast with single-minded determination. I wondered if I should step in to help, but found that I trusted Taurean to win. If he made it here alone, I’m sure we can make it back without too much of my assistance. Besides, he didn’t look too worried.

Taurean tightened his grip in his sword that, until now, I hadn’t even noticed he unsheathed. The Dire Wolf took the movement as an opening, and exploded towards us. The ground visibly cracking from the force of it.

Taurean didn’t waver, however. Channelling his mana into his blade, it glowed white hot. As the Dire Wolf came into range, he swung it down with blinding speed, and just like that, the Dire Wolf was cleaved in two.

Happy that I was right about his strength, I waltzed around the Knight and drove Taurean’s dagger into the wolf’s flank. I still had room in my pack, so I may as well put the meat and fur to good use.

Seeing what I was doing, Taurean sheathed his sword and knelt down beside me, and began assisting me in my work. Together, we quickly gutted the creature and flung the Dire Wolf’s viscera into the foliage, giving any scavengers a small meal should they manage to find it.

I looked up past the trees and found the sun was beginning to set. Starting on the seamless work of skinning the hulking creature, I found Taurean’s assistance now unnecessary.

“Go collect us from firewood,” I ordered without pausing my work. He looked like he was going to protest, and in response I flared a bit of my mana in the air, letting him taste it directly for the first time, the crystals notwithstanding.

His eyes widened briefly, and grew slightly unfocused. Likely connecting a few dots together, I imagine.

His previous indignation was thrown aside after my demonstration, as he probably believed I could handle myself if a beast showed itself before his return. He quickly set out. Though not too far, I would guess.

I finished my skinning rather quickly, and it seemed his initial worry was not unfounded. It seems my Dire Wolf friend had a mate.

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To call Eir strange would be an understatement. While I had pegged her as such when I first met her, she seems to almost go out of her way to solidify that description.

From the moment I laid eyes upon her I saw many things. She was a beauty to be sure. Full red lips, deep penetrating red eyes, and luminescent white hair that flowed to her waist. But her most disturbing aspect of her current form was the bloody rags she was clad in. However, in our short time together I found no wounds, and noticed none of the man she called her captor. So where did the blood come from?

She was a mystery wrapped in an enigma. One I would work to gently unwrap, for questions left unanswered plagued me like a persistent itch left unscratched.

I found myself now wandering through the woods collecting supplies for a fire. I was reluctant at first to leave Eir alone in such a dangerous place, but once again she had surprised me.

Magic.

I had wondered after destroying the crystals in her cell, but she was most certainly a mage, and an extremely potent one at that. Her magic was fierce and strong, and reminded me of an S-class beast, perhaps even stronger.

This girl was strong, I knew that much, and even now I felt the lingering trace of her mana on my skin. I was curious to the extent and attribute of her abilities, my own being that of Light and Fire, and decided I would quiz her at length soon enough.

Collecting a fair amount of dry wood and kindling, I wandered back to where I left Eir. I hadn’t wandered far, still protective even after her display of power, so it didn’t take me long to return. As to not startle her, I made my presence known, deliberately stepping on twigs and brushing past the foliage of the forest as nosily as possible.

I rounded a tree and looked down at the woman…who was currently gutting another Dire Wolf. To say I was shocked was an understatement.

Pausing her work, she looked up at me, “You going to just stand there,” her tone dry, “or are you going to start building us a fire?”

Her words snapped me out of my daze, “You killed a Dire Wolf?” I asked, managing to keep my voice level.

After giving me a small smile, she went back to her work. “Yes,” she continued without pausing, “you aren’t the only one who can fight.” Grabbing the intestines of the second beast she flung them aside, “I can hold my own.” She paused a moment, a small frown on her brow, “Most of the time.”

Not dwelling on what she meant by that, I began working on building us a fire. It didn’t take long, as I found Eir was still skinning the new wolf when I had completed my task. Without a word I slowly traced the small clearing we found ourselves in, and found it had enough wood on its own to make a small spit.

With some rope within my pack I bound the branches together, and upon completely my task, I found Eir had finished skinning and cutting the meat from the wolves. After receiving a fair portion of the meat from her, I skewered it on the spit, and we both waited for the fire to do its work.

“Now,” I broke the silence, “would you mind explaining to me how you killed a Dire Wolf?”

Eir smiled, but I found it didn’t reach her eyes. She turned her icy red eyes towards me, and stood up. “It might be better if I showed you.”

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Spoiler :

Well I probably released this a bit early, but I found myself writing this for the past few days and thought, 'I could keep this stocked up for next week', but I decided there was little point. After all, I’m not going to get much feedback with just a single chapter out.

Though with all that said, I am still sticking to my guarantee of once or twice a fortnight deadline. Not going to guarantee anything more.

So here it is. If you catch anything I might have missed in my editing be sure to tell me.

Hope you enjoy.