Alabast Town looked like any other market town. The entrance was marked by a wooden archway and a stone wall that towered twice as high as a Griffbear. I could only assume it stretched around the entire perimeter of the town. The stone wall was dotted with tiny windows, and it didn't take long for me to notice that these weren't just for ventilation—they were cleverly disguised forts. You can't be too careful, after all. The double-door gate was reinforced with thick plates of brass and aluminum, and two greeters stood at the entrance, welcoming newcomers with wide smiles. The path split into two lanes: the left for carriages and vehicles, the right for those on foot. I chose the latter, flashing a friendly grin to the locals as I passed.
As I walked along the forest road leading to the town, I activated White Veil, a gift I'd inherited from Adalhard Volguardsen. White Veil is a powerful, radiant energy that envelops a Warlock’s body like a second skin of light—I'm not glowing fyi—, power, and protection. My first manifestation of this gift occurred when I was five, just a year after I'd been engulfed by Sunburst, the plasma-pyrokinetic energy I'd inherited from my mother’s side of the family.
Navigating through Alabast Town, I noticed the diversity of its inhabitants—mortals of various clans mingled with humans, creating a tapestry of life that was as colorful as the market stalls lining the streets. The pale yellow cobblestones under my feet emitted a soft, warm glow in the sunlight, guiding my way through the lively streets. Buildings of all shapes and sizes, crafted from an array of woods, added a rustic charm to the town’s atmosphere. Everywhere I looked, stalls brimmed with goods: fresh fish glistening on ice, vibrant vegetables piled high, bundles of aromatic herbs hanging from awnings, and racks of clothes and hats swaying gently in the breeze. The air was alive with the sounds of the market—vendors calling out their wares, the lively chatter of people haggling, and the occasional clink of lamps hanging from nearly every stall, sidewalk, and storefront, casting a cozy glow over the scene.
To the east, the massive snow-covered mountain loomed in the distance, its vast white slopes visible above the town, though the red-tipped peak remained hidden from sight. As I ventured further into the town, I came upon a quad dominated by a white monument—a statue of Adalhard Volguardsen standing proudly at its center. Around the statue, children played, their laughter mingling with the soft cooing of birds. Nearby, townspeople scattered crumbs for the birds or sat on benches, lost in the pages of their books. The market continued to flourish here, with even more stalls inviting me to discover the vibrant, welcoming spirit of Alabast Town.
I could imagine living here. If it weren't for the Red Rock's close proximity.
Okay, Keilia said to plan ahead.
Plan ahead for what, exactly? Should I gather intel from the locals? That’d make me stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe I should just blend in, play the role of a clueless tourist.
From the quad, four streets branched out, like a spider's web. On the sly, I summoned Valkyrjie and Apo to Vaultrove, where I sensed Thyra and Thygos had already opened the Cloud Gate for them. In seconds, Valkyrjie’s shriek pierced the sky as she dropped Apo right on top of Adalhard Volguardsen’s statue. I casually strolled down the first street, where shops and patio chairs lined the sidewalk. I felt Apo scamper up my boots, climb into my pants, and finally settle on my shoulder.
“What took you so long to open the Cloud Gate at Vaultrove?” he grumbled.
I tied my hair back into a ponytail, stretching my arm out as I looped the elastic band. My hair brushed against my lower back as it settled. I instructed Warbec and Valkyrjie to take the remaining two streets while Thyra and Thygos covered the fourth. Through our shared Gaze and Chain, I could see and hear everything they encountered. The streets were a maze of intersections and hidden alleyways leading off to the streets next to each other.
I reached the end of the street, where a towering stone wall, similar to the one at the entrance, extended out. I could hear Thyra and Thygos flying on my right, and as I turned, I saw my denizens completing their sweep of the street. I followed the wall as it curved eastward, leading to another archway at the northeastern gate. Thyra and Thygos returned to Vaultrove, while Warbec, Valkyrjie, and Apo remained by my side.
“Cici, are you listening to me?” Apo’s voice cut through my focus.
This gate was heavily guarded, and beyond it lay another dense forest. Carts filled with food and horses trotted through. A quaint bakery stood next to me, right across from the gate’s path. Nearby, a group of children played with cards and spiders on sticks, something that oddly resembled a miniature cockfight. I approached one of the kids, hoping to get some information without raising any alarms.
“Hey,” I called softly. The kid spun around and held out a matchbox, flipping it open to reveal a spider inside. He was dressed casually, aside from the oversized suit that hung off his small frame like he was playing dress-up.
“Wanna buy this one? You can battle the other kids over there,” he said, pointing to a group of children near the eastern gate. “But you gotta buy this one if you wanna win. Twelve Wrecks.” He eyed me thoughtfully and added, “I can drop it to ten since you’re a lady.” Twelve Wrecks, the bronze coins of this realm—though twelve of them was already worth a silver.
Only then did I realize I didn’t have any money on me.
But I could always make some.
A sudden smack on the back of my neck startled me. “Don’t even think about conjuring money with your magic,” Apo warned.
“I wasn’t,” I replied with a grin. “But I’ll make you a trade.” I waved my hand and conjured a larger spider, letting it crawl up onto my palm.
The kid raised his eyebrows skeptically. “If it ain’t money, it better be a bigger spider,” he grumbled.
Wish granted. I extended my hand, revealing a spider I had just created. It was larger and lighter than the one in his matchbox. The kid’s eyes widened, and he reached for it, but I pulled it back just in time. “I’ll give this to you if you answer three questions.”
He beamed, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Are you from Forza?”
“Warlock,” I replied, watching him nod with recognition.
I pointed toward the Northeastern gate, where men in uniforms and carts were moving through the forest. “Where does that forest lead, with all those carts and uniformed men?”
“Adalguard Forest,” he began, sounding like he was reciting from a brochure. “It’s protected by Adalhard’s last magic and blessed by Bahthalla. Surrounds the whole town. There’s a station out there—Adalguard Fortress. The Adalguards are a group of protectors, sort of like our frontlines, and they were formed after Adalhard Volguardsen died. They have stations and forts in the forests around here. Lately, people have been saying that Red Cloaks are coming back down from the mountains, attacking and poisoning the land and animals. That's definitely not good. Red Rock is just past that big, upside-down snow cone," he said, pointing to a mountain that looked exactly like that. "The town sends them rations to help out. My uncle works there, feeding the horses. The forest beyond Adalguard, all the way to the foot of Snow Mountain, is called the Red Hunting Grounds. Only certified Adalguards can go in there. It's super dangerous."
“Why is it so dangerous?”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“They say a bunch of Red Cloaks and Shadow Fang Rogues died there after the Battle of Red Rock, and their ghosts still haunt the forest. Some of the older soldiers who’ve been patrolling there for years have come back with this crazy look in their eyes, like they’ve gone nuts from whatever they saw.” He shivered a little. “Okay, last question.”
“Who commands the Adalguards?”
“Commander Norman Ottezen, a Gifock.”
“A Gifted-Warlock hybrid?” I asked, impressed. That was intense.
“Yeah, but that’s your three questions.” He held out his hand expectantly. I smiled and shook his hand, letting White Veil work its magic. A warm, tingling sensation buzzed between our palms. He blinked as if waking from a trance, then pulled out the matchbox again, opening it with a familiar grin. “Wanna buy this one? You can fight with the other kids over there,” he pointed again toward the eastern gate. “But you gotta buy this one if you wanna win. Twelve Wrecks. . . but I can drop it to ten since you’re a lady," he repeated, as if the whole conversation had started anew.
I smiled and shook my head. “Maybe next time, kid.”
He cringed a little. “Kid? We’re basically the same age!” he protested, even though he was a solid foot shorter than me.
I walked past him and headed into the inn next to the bakery. As I entered, I noticed a group of boys in black uniforms who looked about my age coming in. This was my first time in the Arctic, and I’d heard stories about this place, where the sun doesn’t set.
“How long have I been gone? I forgot my wristwatch, and my phone is back at the dorm,” I whispered to Apo as I stepped inside. It was cozy, with high ceilings, bright lanterns hanging from the beams, and a reception desk to the left.
“Nine hours. Keilia vanished too, and no one’s been able to summon her, not even Jairen. Your siblings are clueless about where you went, and the wolves are in a frenzy,” Apo replied.
“The wolves?” I thought back, using my Chain connection with Apo.
“Jairen’s convinced there’s a traitor among the Wolves, and Principal Caster’s been backing him up quietly. Principal Reixia is absolutely furious.”
“Isn’t there a union meeting going on right now?”
“Yep. They sent Principal Hollis to represent.”
“Who else knows I’ve slipped off campus?”
“Kaede and Maxima wrung it out of me.”
“You told them?”
“I didn’t have a choice! Dean and Ximena were on my tail—it was terrifying!” He shivered. Dean and Ximena were Kaede and Maxima’s personal enforcers.
I took a seat at one of the tables near the group of boys in black uniforms.
“Is Principal Caster looking for me?”
“Yes. He sent Chrysorion into the sky nine hours ago. He’s on his way here. And he also summoned your grandfather.” Apo’s words made me wince internally, a wave of anxiety tightening in my chest.
I scanned the room for a lavatory and spotted one at the far end. Standing up, I casually walked past the group, making sure to "accidentally" bump into the boy who had been anxiously checking on me. As I did, my hand brushed against his cloak. Mumbling an apology, I slipped into the lavatory. I quickly checked each stall for any lingering civilians but found the place deserted.
Facing the mirror, I whispered, “Vestime replico.” Instantly, my clothes began to transform, the fabric and patterns morphing to mimic the black uniformed cloaks worn by the boys outside. Their cloaks had some kind of hidden details, so I had to resort to this old Majestean spell to replicate their garments onto my own body. Thankfully, the spell obeyed my command with surprising accuracy.
I emerged from the lavatory just as the boys in black uniforms were leaving the inn. I trailed closely behind them, keeping a low profile. At the town gate, they each presented some sort of paper or census they had pulled from their cloaks. Mimicking them, I searched the pockets of my newly acquired cloak and felt a piece of paper inside. Grinning, I pulled it out just as the guard asked for it.
With ease, I stepped out of Alabast Town and into the Adalguard Forest. The ground here had a reddish hue, though not quite blood red. The soil seemed rich and fertile. The trees loomed tall, yet their branches and leaves never tangled or blocked each other. The air was crisp and refreshing, filled with the scent of earth. It was quiet, but if you listened closely, you could hear the faint thumps and distant echoes of creatures and beasts. I trailed behind a large trolley cart filled with milk, pulled by two strong brown donkeys. The boys in uniform walked alongside it, each carrying a wooden staff topped with a cloudy white glass orb.
Were those their weapons?
Judging by their Mana, they weren’t Warlocks but Gifteds. The staffs might be rechargeable. I turned to see how far we had ventured from the town. The buildings were no longer in sight. We came to an intersection where one path led north, another south, and another further east. I continued to follow the group heading east.
Apo nestled snugly in my cloak pocket, while Warbec and Valkyrjie soared above, scanning the way ahead. After what felt like hours of trekking, we finally arrived at the Adalguard Fortress. Huts were built into the trees, with ladders and bridges hanging between them, connecting the large treehouses. Each tree had at least three levels of huts. This fortress seemed to stretch further east. I could feel a chill emanating from the distant mountains.
Through the Gaze, I could see the foot of the Snow Mountain blocking Red Rock was still about 17 miles away. If I flew, I’d be visible—unless I flew above the clouds. Infernals couldn’t fly. Staying on the ground would allow me to move stealthily and cover more ground. I'm indecisive. I realized I was now somewhat lost. Moving quietly, I slipped away from the uniformed men and the others, going unnoticed. Valkyrjie guided me to a path that led southeast to a small hill overlooking the mountains and the fortress. I made my way there and climbed up a tree to conceal myself.
I perched on a thick branch. From here, I had a clear view of the snowy mountain. The Red Hunting Grounds stretched out below, looking bleak, desolate, and scarred. Seeing this place up close now, I realized how it looked worse than what was described in the books.
War had done this. How terribly ugly.
“Can’t we just fly over?” I asked Valkyrjie, hoping for an easier route.
She swooped down gracefully, landing on a branch above me. “There’s an unseen force guarding the mountain. If we fly, they’ll sense us immediately. We can’t risk it.”
Apo settled beside me, standing on his hind legs with his arms crossed over his chest. “Beyond this point lies a graveyard—a resting place for fallen soldiers, warlocks, vampires, gifteds, and wolves.” He shivered as he looked out over the expanse of the Red Hunting Grounds. The trees were denser here, their twisted forms almost lifeless, and not a single sound broke the silence. “No guardians protect this place, Cici.”
I felt it too—a pervasive stillness that made the land feel dead, even though the thick, dark brown trees obscured most of the path ahead. No creatures stirred, not even a whisper of wind.
We retreated to the fortress, where a line of Adalguards had gathered in the center. I ducked behind one of the nearest huts, close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation.
“We’re heading into the Red Hunting Grounds to retrieve your injured comrades,” a tall, lean figure in black leather armor announced. “Stay alert. They’re eight miles from the river. Get them, and get out. Warlocks from Thyravalla and Sidra will be arriving soon to perform the cleansing—again.”
Cleansing again? What does that mean?
The Adalguards marched forward, and I slipped in behind them, keeping my presence hidden.
Questions flooded my mind about the Infernals. Weren’t they supposed to be extinct? And according to the kid, these Adalguards have been active since my ancestor’s death. Did that mean Adalhard didn’t eliminate them all?
Why hadn’t this been covered in the academy? These were real, pressing matters.
We reached a river that was a murky blend of brown and green, reeking like a thousand rotting socks. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. A wooden bridge stretched across to the entrance of the Red Hunting Grounds. As we crossed, I felt the tingle of a protective ward enchantment at the bridge’s midpoint. Once inside the Red Hunting Grounds, the ground turned black beneath the dead leaves. The silence was eerie—no sound, no echo, only the crunch of leaves underfoot, the heavy breaths of the group, and the rustle of our long cloaks against the ground.
We paused beneath an archway flanked by two tall watchtowers. Warbec and Valkyrjie had also entered the Red Grounds, but I instructed them to stay high above the clouds. I learned that the shield barrier ward covered the entire Alabast Town and Aldalguard Forest. The tall, slender commander exchanged a few words with someone in the watchtower, though how they communicated from such a distance remained a mystery to me.
Through the Gaze, Warbec sent me a vision of an entrance south of Snow Mountain, leading straight to Red Rock. The group dispersed to their posts, and I quietly slipped away, following Valkyrjie’s lead toward the path Warbec had shown me. Moving southeast, I crouched low, weaving through the trees.
I ran, dodging between the trunks, leaping over fallen logs, and crawling under depressions that looked like giant fists had pounded the earth. The scent of the forest grew more pungent and rustic, but with White Veil and Sunburst active, the heavy air had little effect on me.
Apo remained tucked safely in my cloak pocket. The kid was right—the land was indeed tainted.
I hadn’t yet tested the full extent of the pollution, but I had a plan. In one of Grammy Lor’s memories, I saw her cleanse a section of forest under Gravernum, a Majestean Dome to the North, using a creative adaptation of Marchago, an expulsion spell she called Marchago Reign. I had tried replicating the spell once, but instead of cleansing, the ground I cast it on exploded.
If time allows and I manage to accomplish what I came to Red Rock for, I’ll attempt to cleanse this place—assuming, of course, that my hastily crafted spell actually does the trick.