Pag stood wearily watching as the trees around him leaned towards a rapidly growing light in the distance before first snapping back upright, shuddered with the distant echoing report of an explosion, then were pushed back from the direction they had previously been pulled to as a howling wind swept through their boughs. Trees groaned and creaked, some popping as their trunks exploded from the strain sending spears of wood flying. Pag felt the concussive force hit him in the chest and he was sent flying through the air as the debris and shrapnel from decimated trees bit at him. Pain blossomed from his back in a hot wave as he collided with sapling that snapped from the impact and he went sprawling through the underbrush.
Pag gaped, fighting with the spasming muscles in his diaphragm to get a breath as darkness began to flood his vision.
He slammed a fist against his chest once, twice, three times then took a wheezing gasp of cool air. His heart pounded in his ears and his body shook, sending new waves of blindingly hot pain from his spine. with each beat as he greedily gulp air staring up at the canopy of trees that seemed to leer down at him. Pag closed his eyes, watching the debuff counters tick down before seeing some of them disappear and he mentally cataloged every ache and pain that screamed for his attention.
He woke with a start, not sure when he had fallen asleep, and slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position with a grimace. As he took in the destruction around him he felt his brows slowly rise, his forced flight trajectory was plainly evident and he had apparently hit more than one tree. Not that he had felt it at the time. Five shattered saplings seeped silvery sap from what remained of their trunks and a large furrow showed where he had finally returned to earth. He stood gingerly, sweeping at the mess of his robes with his hands trying to remove some of the leaves, sap and dirt that clung to him before giving up with a sigh and limping back towards the lake.
He weaved his way through the foliage, occasionally stopping to lean against a tree to catch his breath. Though he wasn't going far or fast and the terrain was easy going the cracked ribs and bruised muscles were definitely making it excessively difficult. With a heaving sigh he lowered himself to the ground at the edge of the water and pulled out his canteen. The water inside was warm, tasting metallic, and he poured out the remainder after his first gulp. Groaning, he leaned over and dipped the canteen into the cool water, watching as the air spilled from it in a cascade of bubbles until it was entirely full, then he closed it up and dropped it back in his inventory. He leaned further, drinking directly from the lake. A small shiver ran through him as the cool water slid into his stomach and he drank until he felt full to bursting.
Pag rolled back from the water, exhaustion weighing heavy on every fiber of his being, and he began to chuckle. He had once again gotten caught in the crossfire from some other player. Well, at least he hadn’t died this time. Hopefully the guards received his beacon signal and he would have an escort back. All he could do now was wait. In the meantime he had more lore he could get caught up on. He pulled open his inventory and moved to pull out the book, fingers hesitating at the soft sound of twigs snapping. Heart pounding he pulled out his canteen again and slowly pushed himself to a seated position. His fingers shook as he twisted the cap from the canteen and nonchalantly took a sip while his eyes roved the area. Had it just been an animal or was it another of those monsters that had taken the others. Cold steel kissed his neck in a not so subtle promise of pain if he moved and he gave a weary sigh.
“If you’re going to kill me just get it over with. No need to make threats.” Pag huffed, his voice sounding far more confident than what he felt.
“Beacon.” came the bland response from behind him.
Pag furrowed his brows blinking for a moment before grinning. He reached into his inventory and pulled out the beacon he had activated, holding it backwards in offering.
“This beacon was issued over sixteen hours ago. Why did you not return with your party at the scheduled time?” the voice asked, pressing the blade against his neck in a hot line just short of drawing blood.
Pag sighed and gave a half shrug. “Don't worry, I wasn't trying to make a run for it. My sentence wasn't that severe and I had every intention of doing my time. If you don’t mind moving that blade I can easier relay the whole story.”
There was a long moment of silence then finally the blade pulled back, whispering as it slid into its sheath followed by an odd snapping sound. “I’m listening. If you tell any lies I will know, try not to leave anything out.”
Pag nodded, took another sip from his canteen then a deep breath before launching into a detailed telling of the events from the moment he had entered the forest. Occasionally answering questions that the bland voice behind him posed or doubling back in the telling to add a detail he had forgotten. The sneaking suspicion that the person behind him was using some sort of voice modulator hung at the edge of his thoughts as he noticed subtle changes each time they spoke but he tried not to focus on that relaying even the most insignificant detail as best as he could. Finally after what felt like hours he had finished his tail, well aware that he was not the best story teller and fully accepting of the fact he would never have a career in it. His talents lie elsewhere so it didn’t bother him, he just sat there in silence waiting.
There was a second odd snapping behind him then the individual behind him padded quietly forward to plop down beside him with a long suffering sigh. “I relayed all you said to the warden. My orders are to get you back to him. Before you ask that is all he said. If he has plans or words for you you will have to wait to learn what those are.”
“Oh is that what that snapping noise was? Some sort of communication?” Pag asked arching a brow as he stared out over the placid water trying to subtly get a look at the figure next to him.
Hey frowned, seeing nothing more than a fully cloaked figure with their hood drawn low over their face, and looked back to the water. He shifted gingerly, wincing at the sparks of pain that radiated from his back and ribs.
“A single use ward stone that allows the one who activates it to open a line of communication to a matching stone. The receiver can see and hear what is within a two meter radius around the stone. It was only a beginner rank functionally quality one. One of the first wards that beginners learn so there are often a large number of them up for sale and they’re cheap but they tend to break after a few uses.” the figure said pulling out their own canteen and taking a long drink.
“Well, I’m ready to head back when you are.” Pag said capping his canteen and dropping it in his inventory.
A heavy fist sized bulbous bottle thumped into Pag’s lap. “Wait. Drink this, fair warning it will taste horrendous but you will move faster fully healed.”
Pag glanced at the bottle then at the figure and smiled grabbing the bottle. “Tha-”
“Don’t thank me.” the figure said turning to look at him and pulling their hood down farther over their face. “Trust me, you’ll want to curse me the second that the first drop hits you, but that is all I have currently. We weren’t expecting any survivors to be found when we received the beacon call. Especially not those who weren’t actively trying to escape so I only packed the bare minimum. You’d be surprised how many prisoners try to escape by ditching one member of their group or even convincing one to wander off to activate their beacon as a distraction and making a run for it.”
Pag blinked looking to the cloaked figure and frowned. “Whats your name? I just, I’m getting tired of calling you the hooded figure or the cloaked figure in my mind given that’s all I can see of you.”
The silence stretched out between them as they both stared at each other and Pag began to think he had made a mistake. Still, he refused to back down and kept staring. Finally the hooded figure gave a muffled chuckle and leaned back shaking their head.
“Aviva. Just call me Aviva. Now, drink up. We need to get going.”
Pag grinned grabbing the bottle in his lap and pulled the cork out. Taking a shallow breath he downed it, immediately fighting the urge to gag. It was thicker than a malted milkshake and left bitter grains everywhere it touched. The taste was an odd cross between curdled milk and seaweed with the after taste of over ripe strawberries and sweat. His stomach began to do cartwheels as the last viscous threads seeped down his throat and he felt waves of shuddering spasms spill outwards. Saliva filled his mouth forcing him to swallow convulsively or let spill from his lips. Heat poured from his veins and a cold sweat sprung from every pore as he fought to keep the noxious brew down. A final gut wrenching spasm twisted him in on himself as he wrapped his arms over his stomach then it all stopped finally realizing he was now laying on his side in the dirt taking heaving breaths through clenched teeth.
Slowly he unwound himself and hissed through his teeth. “Never again.”
“Told you.” chuckled Aviva.
“That was nowhere near an adequate warning. It’s like I licked the inside of a septic tank wall.” Pag said spitting to the side as he shuffled to the water line and worked to rinse the taste from his mouth.
Aviva snorted crossing their arms. “When your done scraping your tongue lets get going.”
Pag rolled his tongue around his mouth shooting a glare at Aviva then spat again and stood stretching. Every ache and pain was gone. Arching a brow he pulled up his stat sheet and saw all but the hungry debuff had finally resolved. With a grin and a wave he dismissed the window moving to follow.
“Are all potions like that?” he asked.
“No, that was another beginner ranked item, trash quality. The higher the rank the more effective or otherwise powerful an item is. The higher the quality of an item the longer it lasts. In the case of potions quality affects taste, if it is a low quality potion then it will taste terrible while a higher one will taste good.”
“Mind enlightening me on the ranks and qualities? I've come across them on items before but haven't really had a chance to look into it yet.” Pag asked rubbing the back of his neck as he ducked a low hanging limb.
In front of him Aviva turned to view him over their should then gave a small sigh and nod. “Everything is ranked. Skills, consumables, weapons, clothing, armor, books, quests, everything. For skills, abilities and classes the ranking goes by how far you have progressed in learning them. Ranking in these go: Beginner, Novice, Apprentice, Adept, Proficient, Expert, Master, Sage, Grand Sage, Legend, Grand Legend, Epic, and finally Mythic. Then there is the ranking that takes into account how many people share that skill, ability or class but as there is really no set way to follow every class or employ skills and abilities its nothing more than public opinion and best ignored. For everything else you may have the same ranks but then you also have quality and durability. Quality ranking goes trash, awful, pathetic, broken, functional, ok, good, high grade, superior, excellent, profound, masterful, exquisite, flawless, and sublime. Durability ranks change item class to item class, the durability ranks for a sword will be very different from that of a pair of pants so I’m not going to go into the details on that. Suffice to say durability rankings determine how much wear and tear the item can take before it breaks or if it will even break at all. If you want more on that then you will either need to read books on it or go into a profession but they only teach what is relevant to what they create. Quests are ranked based on both how common they are and how challenging they are. I've yet to find a full detailed list with explanations on quest rankings and many lists tend to contradict each other. Its probably best to not bother learning them.”
“That seems like a rather…. Convoluted and arbitrary system.” Pag huffed as he tugged his leg free of a bramble bush.
“It is, trust me. If I had any say in the matter it’d be consistent, streamlined and far more easy to understand.” Aviva sighed leaning against a tree, watching Pag haul himself up the steep incline.
Pag heaved a deep breath as he glanced back down the leaf strewn hill and pulled out his canteen to sip from. Flicking his eyes to his mini-map he frowned. “I’m not sure if it’s just because things were so hectic up to the point you arrive but it kind of feels like we’re going in the wrong direction.”
“I didn’t feel like having to climb a sixty foot cliff face much less two. How you managed to survive those is beyond me but you’re partially correct. We’re going a bit out of the way until we hit level ground again.” Aviva said reaching into their inventory puling out their own canteen and a small wrapped bundle that they tossed to Pag.
Pag caught it and arched a brow. “What’s this?”
“Food. We’ll take a short break before we move on. Once we start up again we will need to stop talking or we will attract shades.”
“You going to tell me not to thank you for this food?” Pag snorted as he lowered himself to the ground.
“Yes, but only because I didn’t make it. It may seem a bit bland but it’s food and if you actually like it then thank the cooks back at camp.”
“Still. I’m going to thank you anyways for sharing it with me. Your orders didn’t say anything about giving me a potion or food, you could have done a forced march regardless of how hungry or hurt I was. So thank you.” He said unwrapping the bundle.
Inside he found a thick stack sliced of meats and cheese stuffed between two pieces of dark bread. A small packet of what looked to be berries sat next to the sandwich and he stared at it for a moment before dropping it into his inventory. The rich smell of rye bread, smoked meat, bacon and cheese drifted up to him. He inhaled the smell deeply then too a large bite. Aviva had been right, it was a bit bland, lacking any form of seasoning and somewhat dry but Pag was too hungry to care. Between bites his eyes scanned the forest around them, trying not to stare at the odd sight of Aviva eating, It was the most astounding thing and nearly made Pag choke the first time he saw them lean in to take a bite from their sandwich only to have the front half disappear into the shadows of the hood then come out with a bite sized chunk missing. He wondered idly if it a spell or was it an affect of the hooded cloak they wore, if it was the cloak was that also what changed their voice? Why were they wearing the cloak to begin with? Stuffing the last of his sandwich in his mouth he hurriedly chewed then swallowed it and leaned towards them.
“I have to ask. Sorry, I know I’ve been asking so many questions but if I don’t ask this before we get moving and I cant talk then its going to kill me. What’s with the cloak?”
Aviva cocked their head to the side and paused quietly for a moment, likely to chew as they too had just taken the last bite of their sandwich. After a moment they took a sip from their canteen then sighed. “Honestly, I hate this thing but it has an enchantment on it that makes me less noticeable to the shades and other spirits, even those who don’t reside in this forest. I’ve been a volunteer guard with the camp for some time, kingdom soldiers and core mages all have to do at least one term at one of the various prisons but you can always do extra rounds with them to earn money, herbs, items, reputation and such.”
Aviva shrugged.“I think it was the third or fourth time I had volunteered to do a round after my initial term when this happened. They sent me out after a group didn’t return from their shift and I ended up surrounded by flood of shades. Something had enraged them and they had came out full force. Barely managed to beat them all but once I did I ended up with some pretty solid loot. Among the items I found on them was this cloak, like an idiot I didn’t bother to have it appraised before I equipped it. Turns out it was a soul-bound item. Once I equipped it no one else could, the only way to undo the binding would be to destroy the item but doing that can cause magical feedback to the person it is bound to. Also, as much as I hate it, it is still a useful item so it would be a waste to destroy it.”
“I didn’t know that creatures could become enraged. Is there a set trigger event, like does it have to do with how many fruits are gathered or does it happen when people go to a certain area?”
Aviva shook their head. “No, we tried and tested many possible theories on what could cause it. We never figured out what it was that had enraged them and from time to time it happens again. It isn't the fruit because the camp had completely ceased gathering at one point and still were attacked. It is unlikely to be location as well as they tried to limit the sections of the forest they collected from at one point and still had them become enraged. It isn’t prison population or the food served or even by calendar. It appears to be entirely random. They wipe out any groups that may be in the forest then try to break out to the surrounding farmlands or get into the camp. So far they haven’t gotten out of the forest but there has been one instance where they amassed enough numbers to take down the wards around the camp. I wasn’t there at the time, I was helping to train a new batch of recruits but they called me out to help clear the shades from the camp and check for survivors. At the time we had around 60 prisoners, 20 staff members and 50 soldiers. What we found was 5 soldiers and one prisoner”
Pag scratched his chin thoughtfully as he stared at the ground. “What if they are being purposefully provoked by a person? Like as some sort of distraction or something.” he asked looking up.
Aviva had froze in the act of standing and stared at him, the hollow darkness that looked out at him from the hood sending a ripple of gooseflesh down his arms. He should have kept his mouth shut. Pag swallowed and opened his mouth to apologize but stopped when they sat back down and leaned close.
“That is the current working theory. I wouldn’t speak it to anyone else if I were you either. Those of us who are investigating the matter have become convinced that that is indeed the truth of the matter. We think there is something hidden within the forest that some one is trying to get to and they are using the shades as a distraction. Yet we still have many questions. How are they manipulating the shades, what it is that they are after and why are they so intent on getting it.” Aviva gave a low chuckle and cocked their head to the side. When they spoke Pag could hear the self satisfied smirk that plastered their face behind the shadows of the hood. “Careful, if you start showing everyone how competent you actually are outside of all the insane freak accidents that occur around you someone might just recruit you. Though if that is something you are interested in then I’m sure I could drop a few good words with my higher ups, no guarantee they would take you in but the word would be there.”
Pag blinked and stood slowly. “I’m not even sure what sort of group you work with, what they represent or what their ideals are. Plus I’m still fairly low leveled, I literally just got here not too long ago, and I’m trying to get my citizenship for the kingdom before I aim for joining any sort of factions or groups.”
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Aviva nodded then stood smoothly. “Good answer. Let’s get moving, we’ve a long walk ahead of us. Remember to stay silent and stay aware. Turn off all of your notifications until we get back to camp so you don’t get startled and alert them to our location. If I send a message or speak then do exactly as I say, no questions asked.”
With that Aviva turned and began to walk, with a flash of inspiration Pag moved to follow their path trying as best as he could to imitate their movements. Right away he noticed how much easier the path was and how much quieter he moved. He grinned in silent celebration then remembering what they had said silenced their notifications. He bent his mind to task, at first splitting his attention between scanning the forest around them and studying Aviva’s actions so he could mimic them was mentally taxing. However it began to feel more and more natural to him and he felt as if it took no focus at all. They weaved between the trees and foliage in silence, time seeming to hang in suspension from the unnatural darkness of the forest. No bugs, birds or frogs called out around them. No breeze stirred the canopy overhead. It was as if only they existed here while the rest of the world had simply ceased. The rhythm of it had turned into something almost as natural as breathing to Pag and it actually startled him when Aviva motioned for him to stop when they came up on a narrow stream that flowed lazily across their path.
Pag arched a brow questioningly and Aviva pulled out their canteen making another motion to the ground. He nodded, pulling out his own canteen and sat to drink. Aviva made a few quick motions in the air and Pag realized they were looking at their system menus while he rested. Mentally shrugging he took another drink and pulled out the pack of berries from earlier. He frowned as one of the berries dropped to the ground and glanced at the packet. It didn’t seem to be damaged and he couldn’t see how it would have fallen out.
‘Maybe this is the result of the quality of the packet they were put in?’ He thought to himself as he rolled his eyes.
Pag tore the packet open and poured it into his mouth as he eyed the berry that had fallen out. Shrugging he tossed it in with the others and began chewing. The berries were so sour and tart that his face immediately screwed up as his salivary glands went into overdrive. He chewed them as quick as he could then swallowed, washing them down with another sip of water. His frown deepened as he rolled his tongue around his mouth, trying to clear out the odd tingling sensation. Above him Aviva motioned for them to start moving again but Pag held up a hand. The sensation was steadily growing in intensity, spreading down to his stomach then out. His eyes flew wide and he pulled open his inventory. With a sinking in his chest he looked up at them apologetically and rapidly tapped out a message explaining his fear.
He had just accidentally ate an unidentified berry that one of his former party members had handed him at the beginning of their search for spirit fruits. Though he had initially assumed it to one be from the pack of trail mix they got in their rations he was beginning to think it may have actually been one of the fruits they were looking for. Hands shaking he pressed send and an electric current tore through him setting every nerve on fire as every muscle began to convulse. Darkness began to creep in on his vision and with a rising sense of dread he that realized he couldn’t speak. That he couldn’t warn Aviva of the shades approaching.
Pag clutched at his chest, a searing heat building beneath his skin. It felt like his veins were filled with molten metal, each pulse of his heart sending waves of agonizing pressure throughout his body. He had been warned about the dangers of consuming raw spirit fruit, but the warden’s words hadn’t truly sunk in until now. he expected the fruit to glistening with a vibrant purple hue and promising untold power, to have had seemed so alluring, so irresistible. But no, it looked like a half deflated cranberry and he hadn’t bothered to check its info pane. Now, he was paying the price.
He glanced frantically at his mana bar, watching in horror as it filled and emptied in rapid, erratic bursts, each surge accompanied by a wave of nausea and a feeling of overwhelming power threatening to tear him apart from the inside out. His vision swam, the forest around him blurring into a kaleidoscope of distorted colors. He tried to speak, to call out to Aviva, but only a choked gasp escaped his lips.
He saw Aviva battling the Shades, their movements a fluid dance of grace and power. They fought like a phantom, their cloak billowing around them, their rapier flashing in the dim twilight that permeated Thalin's Forest. The Shades, creatures of shadow and nightmare, lunged and swiped at Aviva, their forms swirling like smoke, their claws raking the air with a chilling hiss. Aviva parried each attack with effortless precision, their blade finding its mark with deadly accuracy.
One Shade, larger and more menacing than the others, materialized from the shadows, its form coalescing into a hulking beast with glowing red eyes and jagged obsidian claws. It lunged at Aviva, its roar a guttural rasp that seemed to chill the air itself. Aviva, anticipating the attack, rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the creature's grasp. They sprang to their feet, their rapier a blur of motion as they countered the Shade's onslaught.
Pag watched in agony, his body wracked with pain and his magic spiraling out of control. He longed to join the fight, to stand beside Aviva, but he was trapped, a prisoner in his own body. He could feel his mana surging, desperate for release, but every attempt to control it only exacerbated the chaotic bursts, sending tendrils of untamed energy arcing through the air around him.
He knew the Shades were drawn to strong emotions – fear, anger, despair. He couldn’t risk his uncontrolled magic becoming a beacon, drawing more of the creatures to Aviva's location. He had to find a way to regain control, to suppress the chaotic energy coursing through him, but his thoughts were scattered, his mind fogged with a miasma of pain and confusion. He was no help to Aviva, only a liability.
A stray blast of magic, a wild, untamed surge of energy, erupted from him, streaking through the air and striking a nearby tree with an explosion of splintering wood and crackling flames. The Shades, sensing the uncontrolled power, turned their attention towards Pag, their glowing eyes fixated on him with a predatory hunger.
Aviva, seeing the shift in the Shades' focus, cried out in warning. They fought with renewed ferocity, pushing back the creatures that threatened to overwhelm them. Their blade danced a deadly ballet, parrying blows, finding openings, delivering precise and devastating strikes. They were a whirlwind of motion, but Pag could see the strain in their movements, the toll that the constant onslaught was taking.
He had to do something, anything, to help Aviva. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to focus, to find a center amidst the chaos raging within him. He drew upon every ounce of his willpower, desperately trying to suppress the wild surges of mana, to regain control over his own body.
Aviva's voice, sharp and urgent, cut through the haze of pain and confusion. "Pag, get out of here! I'll hold them off!"
He forced his eyes open, his vision still blurry, his body trembling with the effort of containing the chaotic magic. He knew Aviva was right. He was only a distraction, a target for the Shades. He had to get to safety, had to find a way to regain control of his abilities.
He stumbled to his feet, his legs weak, his vision swimming. He cast a desperate glance at Aviva, their form a blur of motion as they battled the encroaching Shades. Then, with a final surge of willpower, he flung his arms out with a hoarse roar that seemed to reverberate amongst the trees. Fire poured off of him in a swirling vortex, dripped from his hands and arms in coruscating sheets like molten honey.
The last tendrils of shadow dissipated, leaving behind only a fine layer of ash that settled on the forest floor. Aviva, their breath misting in the cool air, sheathed their rapier. Pag, leaning heavily against a nearby tree, coughed, the remnants of his uncontrolled magic leaving him feeling drained and shaky. The faint glow of the mana debt timer pulsed on his HUD, a constant reminder of the price he'd paid to survive the encounter.
"It's over," Aviva said, their voice quiet but firm. "For now, at least." They approached Pag, their gaze sweeping the area, searching for any sign of lingering danger. "Are you alright?"
Pag straightened, wincing as pain shot through his chest. He glanced down at his hand, flexing his fingers. The lingering burn from the Devastating Flames spell throbbed faintly, a dull ache that mirrored the exhaustion in his bones. "I'll live," he muttered, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
His gaze fell on a small, dark object lying amidst the ashes where the last Shade had fallen. It glinted faintly in the dappled light filtering through the trees, catching his attention. "What's that?" he asked, pointing towards it.
Aviva followed his gaze, their brow furrowing. "I don't know," they said, cautiously approaching the object. "Be careful, Pag. It could be dangerous."
They crouched down, their rapier held loosely at their side, and nudged the object with the tip of their boot. It was a small, irregularly shaped stone, the color of dried blood, pulsing with a faint, internal glow. As Aviva touched it, a surge of energy rippled outwards, sending a shiver through the forest floor.
The air around them grew heavy, charged with an unsettling energy. The trees groaned, their branches swaying as if caught in a sudden, unseen wind. A low, guttural growl echoed through the forest, sending a shiver down Pag’s spine.
Aviva stood abruptly, their gaze fixed on the spot where the stone had been lying. The stone itself was gone, vanished as if it had never been there. "Something's coming," they whispered, their voice tight with tension. "Something powerful."
Pag felt a cold sweat prickling at his skin. He glanced at his mana bar, dismayed to see how little remained. The mana debt timer blinked relentlessly: four hours, fifty-three minutes. He wasn't sure he could handle another fight, not so soon.
The ground trembled beneath their feet. Vines, thick as a man's arm, erupted from the earth, twisting and writhing like living creatures. Thorns, sharp as daggers, sprouted along their length, dripping with a viscous sap that glowed with an eerie, phosphorescent light. The air filled with the scent of damp earth and decaying vegetation, a cloying sweetness that turned his stomach.
From the heart of the tangled mass of vines, a figure began to take shape. It was humanoid in form, but its body was a grotesque fusion of plant and spirit. Its skin was bark-like, rough and gnarled, with patches of moss clinging to its limbs. Vines and thorns sprouted from its shoulders and back, swaying menacingly. Its eyes, glowing with an unnatural, emerald light, fixed on Pag and Aviva, filled with a cold, predatory hunger.
Pag recognized the creature from his brief studies of the game's lore. It was a boss monster, a rare and dangerous foe that appeared only in certain areas, drawn to places of strong magical energy. He couldn't remember its name, but he knew one thing for certain: They were in serious trouble.
"Get ready," Aviva hissed, drawing their rapier. The blade gleamed in the dim light, reflecting the creature's glowing eyes. "This is going to be a tough one."
Pag swallowed hard, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his dagger. He knew they were outmatched, but he wasn't going down without a fight.
The boss monster let out a roar that shook the trees, a sound that was both a challenge and a warning. The battle had begun.
The boss monster, a grotesque amalgamation of thorny vines and glowing spirit energy, ripped free from the earth with a final, earth-shattering groan. Towering over Pag and Aviva, it swiped a massive, thorny arm towards them, sending them scrambling for cover.
Aviva, light on their feet, rolled behind a thick oak, narrowly avoiding the creature's grasp. They sprang to their feet, their rapier flashing as they sliced at a stray vine that lashed out like a whip. The vine severed with a sickening crack, but more surged forward, animated by the creature's malevolent will.
Pag, his movements hampered by his injuries and exhaustion, wasn't so lucky. He barely managed to dive out of the way as the thorny arm crashed into the tree where he'd been standing a moment before, splintering wood and sending bark flying. He scrambled back, fear lending speed to his movements, and pressed himself against a gnarled root, his heart pounding against his ribs.
"We can't fight this thing head-on, Pag!" Aviva shouted, their voice barely audible above the creature's roars and the snapping of vines. "We need to find a way to exploit its weakness!"
Pag, his mind racing, scanned the creature, searching for any vulnerability. Its body was a tangled mass of thorns and vines, seemingly impenetrable. Its glowing eyes, filled with a cold, predatory intelligence, followed their every move.
He glanced at his mana bar, despair sinking in as he saw how little remained. The mana debt timer blinked ominously: four hours, forty-eight minutes. He couldn't afford to waste any more mana, not with this creature bearing down on them. He had to think fast.
"Distract it!" he yelled back to Aviva, scrambling to his feet. "I need a few seconds!"
Aviva, their face grim but resolute, nodded. They darted out from behind the tree, their rapier a blur of silver as they engaged the creature, weaving between its grasping vines and lashing out with precise, deadly strikes.
Pag, watching Aviva's dance of death, scrambled behind another tree, seeking a moment's respite from the creature's fury. He closed his eyes, focusing his will, searching for any scrap of information that might give them an edge. He remembered the stone, the strange, blood-red stone that had vanished moments before the creature's arrival. Had the stone summoned this monster? Was it somehow connected to the creature's power?
A sudden ping from his HUD interrupted his thoughts. A message flashed across his vision:
Pag stared at the message, his heart sinking. A zone event. That meant other players in the vicinity would be alerted to the boss fight and could choose to join the battle. It was a glimmer of hope, but it also meant they were racing against time. If they didn't defeat the creature soon, it was likely to attract more and more players, turning the fight into a chaotic free-for-all.
He had to find a way to end this quickly. He glanced at his skills, searching for anything that might give them an advantage. His gaze fell on the Clasmic Mage Lore skill, the skill that unlocked more devastating spells as he learned more about the Clasmic mages and their history.
He closed his eyes again, this time focusing on the lore, searching for any mention of creatures like Thornheart the Blighted. A memory flickered in his mind, a passage from a dusty tome that had been mentioned in a forum.
Clasmic mages, masters of fire and earth, drew their power from the very essence of the world. But their magic, like all things, had a balance. For every act of creation, there was an equal and opposite act of destruction. And from that destruction, from the ashes of what was lost, arose creatures of blight and shadow, twisted reflections of the natural world.
The words echoed in his mind, a sudden understanding dawning. Thornheart was a creature of blight, a creature born from the destructive aspects of Clasmic magic. And if it was born from destruction, perhaps it could be vulnerable to…
His eyes snapped open. "Aviva!" he shouted, his voice filled with urgency. "Use your healing magic! Focus it on the creature!"
Aviva, their movements faltering as they parried another blow from Thornheart, glanced back at him, their brow furrowed. "Healing magic? But that's—"
"Just trust me!" Pag interrupted, already gathering his remaining mana. He could feel the wild magic surging within him, responding to his desperation. This was a gamble, a long shot, but it was their only hope.
Aviva hesitated for a moment, then nodded. They disengaged from the creature, retreating to a safer distance. They closed their eyes, their hands glowing with a soft, green light as they channeled their healing magic.
Pag watched, his breath catching in his throat as he saw the creature react. Thorns withered and blackened. Vines recoiled as if burned. The creature's glowing eyes dimmed, flickering with confusion and pain.
He knew what he had to do. He raised his hand, ignoring the searing pain that shot through his arm, and focused his will. This time, however, he didn't call upon the destructive power of fire. Instead, he reached deep within himself, drawing upon the primal energy of the earth, channeling it through his Clasmic magic.
" Bloom ," he whispered, the word leaving his lips on a breath of exhaustion.
A wave of green energy surged outwards, enveloping the creature in a blinding light. The forest floor trembled, and then… silence.
Pag, his vision blurring, stumbled forward, his gaze fixed on the spot where the creature had stood. The vines and thorns had retreated, dissolving into nothingness. The glowing eyes had faded, leaving behind only empty sockets. And in the creature's place…
He blinked, his mind struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. A single, delicate flower bloomed where the creature had stood, its petals a vibrant, impossible shade of blue. It swayed gently in the breeze, a fragile beacon of hope amidst the devastation.
A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and his knees buckled. He collapsed to the ground, the mana debt timer blinking insistently: three hours, forty-two minutes. He'd pushed himself to the limit, but they had survived.
He glanced over at Aviva, their face etched with exhaustion but their eyes shining with a newfound wonder. They approached him slowly, their gaze lingering on the flower.
"What… what was that?" they asked, their voice hushed.
Pag shook his head, still struggling to make sense of what had happened. "I… I don't know," he admitted. "But I think we just witnessed a miracle."
A sudden commotion from the edge of the forest interrupted their moment of awe. Shouts and the clash of steel echoed through the trees. Pag and Aviva exchanged a worried glance. The zone event. Other players were arriving.
"We need to go," Aviva said, their voice taking on an urgent edge. "Now."
Pag nodded, pushing himself to his feet. He took one last look at the flower, its blue petals shimmering in the dappled light, a symbol of hope and destruction intertwined. He had a feeling that this was just the beginning, that the battle against Thornheart was only a taste of the challenges to come.
As they fled into the forest, the shouts of other players growing louder behind them, Pag couldn't shake the feeling that the game had changed, that the lines between reality and the virtual world were blurring, and that he was caught in the middle of something far bigger and more dangerous than he could have ever imagined.
Pag sat in stunned silence, The blue flower shimmered in the light, a stark reminder of both hope and destruction. As he and aviva fled into the forest, the shouts of other players echoed behind him, a signal that the game had shifted. He couldn't help feeling that reality and the virtual world were blurring, and he was at the center of something far larger and more dangerous than he could have ever imagined.
The forest floor, still smoldering from the battle with Thornheart the Blighted, trembled as a swirling vortex of energy materialized at the edge of the clearing. A beacon of indigo light, pulsating with an otherworldly hum, marked the arrival point for players drawn to the ongoing zone event. Pag, leaning heavily against a tree, his body aching from the fight and his mind reeling from the wild magic surge, watched as figures began to emerge from the fading light.
Exile, moving with a practiced grace that spoke of countless hours spent honing his skills, was among the first to arrive. His keen eyes, shadowed by the wide brim of his hat, swept across the clearing, taking in the scene with a detached, almost clinical assessment. The "Kingdom Blade," as he was known throughout the server, had a reputation for efficiency and ruthlessness, traits that had earned him a place among the top players on the leaderboards. Pag had only encountered him once before, in the bustling marketplace of the Draggor capital, but the memory of those cold, assessing eyes lingered.
A figure materialized beside Exile, bathed in the soft glow of the arrival beacon. It was PizzaBoi, the player Pag had met in the tavern. Exile gave a curt nod of acknowledgement, his expression unreadable. PizzaBoi, eager to prove his worth, stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the remnants of Thornheart the Blighted.
“Looks like we missed the main event,” PizzaBoi said, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. He glanced at Pag, a flicker of recognition passing over his face. “You alright, man? You look like you went a few rounds with a threshing machine.”
“Thornheart?” he asked.
Pag nodded toward the creature's remains. “We managed to take it down, but it was a close call”.
PizzaBoi’s gaze hardened. “Close call or not, the developers will no doubt analyze every detail of this fight. They’re watching, Pag. They’re always watching. ”.
As more players arrived in Thalin's Forest, drawn by the beacon of the zone event, Exile hung back, his gaze sweeping over the gathering crowd. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Pag, who stood talking to Aviva and the two siblings, Toula and Maverick. Something about the scene, about Pag's stance, about the way the dim light played on his reptilian scales, triggered a memory.
Reports had come in from the capital, whispers among the nobles and servants about a strange, reptilian figure seen lurking near the prince's chambers in the days leading up to the murder. A figure that, according to some accounts, wore an outfit that bore a striking resemblance to the crown princes last outfit.
Exile's hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his dagger. Could this be the killer the king sought? Could this unassuming player be the one responsible for the death of the heir to the Draggor throne? He had to be certain. A false accusation could jeopardize his standing with the king, but if this was indeed the culprit, bringing him to justice would solidify his position, cement his reputation as the "Kingdom Blade."
He pushed through the crowd, PizzaBoi trailing behind him, his eagerness to prove himself almost comical. "Exile! Wait up!" PizzaBoi called, but Exile ignored him, his focus fixed on Pag.
"You," Exile said, his voice sharp, commanding, cutting through the murmuring of the other players. Pag turned, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"What?" Pag asked, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance.
"You were in the capital," Exile accused, his eyes boring into Pag. "You were seen wearing an outfit much like that that the crown prince had on when he was murdered. An outfit made by a seamstress that only ever made one of its kind."
Pag blinked, taken aback by the sudden accusation. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play coy," Exile snarled, his hand tightening on the hilt of his dagger. "You were wearing his clothes, weren't you? The prince's clothes."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, whispers of "murder" and "Kingdom Blade" weaving through the gathering players.
Pag's eyes widened in understanding, a flicker of fear passing over his face. "No! That's not... I didn't..." he stammered, struggling to find words to defend himself against the accusation.
"Liar!" Exile roared, drawing his dagger. The polished blade gleamed in the dim light, a symbol of his authority, his ruthlessness.
Aviva stepped forward, placing herself between Exile and Pag. "Exile, stand down," she commanded, her voice calm but firm. "You have no proof."
Exile's gaze shifted to Aviva, his eyes narrowed. "He was," he insisted, his voice low, dangerous. "I know it."
PizzaBoi, sensing the escalating tension, hurried forward, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Hey, now, let's not get hasty," he interjected, his voice a nervous squeak. "There's no need for violence. Let's just talk this through, alright?"
Exile glared at PizzaBoi, his hand still gripping the hilt of his dagger.
"Exile, listen to PizzaBoi," Aviva said, her tone taking on an edge of steel. "We have bigger problems to worry about than unfounded accusations." She gestured toward the smoldering remains of Thornheart the Blighted. "This creature, this event, it's just the beginning. We need to work together if we're going to survive what's coming."
Exile hesitated, his gaze flickering between Pag, Aviva, and the gathering crowd. The murmurs had died down, replaced by an expectant silence, all eyes fixed on the confrontation. Finally, with a grunt of frustration, he sheathed his dagger.
"Fine," he said, his voice tight with suppressed anger. "But I'm watching you," he added, his gaze fixed on Pag. "And if I find any evidence to support my suspicions, you'll answer for the prince's death."
He turned and strode away, disappearing into the crowd, PizzaBoi scrambling to follow. Aviva let out a sigh, turning to face Pag, who stood there, his body trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.
"You alright?" she asked, her voice soft, concerned.
Pag nodded, drawing in a deep breath. "I... I don't know what to say," he stammered, still shaken by the encounter. "I didn't kill anyone. A player called prolixalParagon gave me those when I first respawned in the dragger capital."
Aviva winced at the name and placed a hand on his arm, her touch reassuring. "I know," she said. "But Exile... he's driven, obsessed with justice, or at least what he believes to be justice. And with the prince's murder, well... he's not going to let it go easily. Even if the clothes were given to you. Now come on. Lets get this to the warden. There will be other mobs that they can go after."
Pag stumbled out of the forest, the warden's camp looming before him. The camp, usually bustling with activity, was strangely quiet, only a few guards patrolling the perimeter. A chill ran down his spine, a sense of foreboding settling over him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, that the world he had left behind had shifted in ways he couldn't yet comprehend.
As he approached the warden's office, a guard yelped. "You're back,”. "The warden has been expecting you but we didn’t think you’d make it".
Pag blinked, his heart pounding. This wasn't the usual procedure, he was sure. What had happened while he was gone? What awaited him inside?
The hooded figure led him through the empty camp, the silence amplifying his unease. They reached the warden's office and the figure pushed open the door, gesturing for Pag to enter.
"Ah, there you are," the warden said, motioning to the chairs in front of his desk.
Pag stepped into the office, his mind racing. The scene before him was just as unsettling as the silent camp. The office, usually cluttered with paperwork and maps, was tidy, almost sterile. The warden, usually stern and imposing, seemed strangely subdued.
"Please, take a seat," the warden repeated, his voice softer than usual.
Pag sat, his gaze darting around the room, searching for clues, for an explanation.