When morning dawns, so do I.

Because it’s time to get serious.

First: skill check:

[WEAPON ARTS]

[Bladed Weapons]

Glittering Thrust: LVL 4

Cooldown decreased: 20 secs

[Core Skill Increases]

[Blink: LVL 1 -> 2]

Reduced Cooldown: 5 mins -> 4 mins

[Dig: LVL 3]

ABILITY MORPH AVAILABLE

MORPH OPTIONS:

1. DAUNTLESS DIG: [Dig] can now be used on all surface types

2. VERSATILE DIG: Can now [Dig] in any direction

You know something about these ‘Morphs’ that’s always struck me? How both options are bloody useful in one way or another. Here’s hoping I get to pick one of my rejected entries again some time.

Right now though? Practicality is what I’m thinking about. That [Dauntless] thing looks useful. I mean, I’m surely not gonna be stuck in the woods rolling in dirt forever. Then again, being able to dig up would make things a hell of a lot easier. Normally all I get is the chance to dig my way outta trouble only for me to just be stuck, with half a second more time added on to my already short life…

So, I shut my eyes, paw at the Morph, and just hope that I’m picking the right option.

[ABILITY MORPH SELECTED: VERSATILE DIG]

You’d know what the right option is, Myrathellon, wouldn’t you? Only problem is, I now don’t know if I should be trusting you at all…

Seneca. Her old master’s name was Seneca.

I lean on the edge of my bed, my tail curling up around me.

So that’s why you’re such a…let’s be a polite doggo and say you’re a ‘colorful’ character, Myrathellon. Doubt your Master was any saner in life than she was as a batshit crazy plant monster. But the question remains: what is it your Sisters want you to do with m-“

My thoughts are interrupted harshly by the door being thrown open, and a warrior clad in a sparkling silver chestplate fixes me with burning eyes.

“AWAKEN!”

I stare at Myrathellon’s heaving chest.

“I’m…already awake.”

“Yes! Well…yes, I-“ she stutters. Then, regaining her composure. “You shall ready yourself for combat and then meet me in the village square in ten minutes!”

I try to maintain my smile. I really do. But the fire in her eyes, the shade of red flushed on her face, and her hand twitching beside her sword hilt tells me to just turn tail and run, right here and now.

But I don’t.

Because…well, I’m the new Lightborn, aren’t I?

“For what?” I ask, in a voice probably a tad squeaker than a prophesized hero’s should be.

She grits her teeth as she bellows her answer: “You…you are to join me on a beast hunt this day!”

“A what now?”

“I – I said a beast hunt!” she roars, as though repeating the words will make them make sense. “There have been nuisances noticed on the Northern reaches of Glenheim’s borders. We will go together to eradicate this threat. That is all!”

She slams the door without another word, and I’m left wondering why her face was as flushed as much it was.

You know this is a trap, right?

My own voice of reason is railing at me as I go to grab my scimitar’s scabbard.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Yeah, I think. But that’s not exactly a lady I can refuse, is it? And if I’m gonna find out what’s really going on here, she’s the best chance I’ve got.

You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?

I smirk as I meander towards the door.

Nope. What else is new?

…

At the bottom of the village, Myrathellon waits.

No other Elves are around today. No one washing by the waterfall. No smells wafting from Agnes’ bakery.

Not another soul stirs out here at all.

“You are on time,” Myrathellon says. “Good.”

I pout up at her through my growing sense of fear. “Hey, I’m not gonna risk a bonking, am I?”

She looks at me with strange eyes. Eyes reticent to continue. Eyes that know something…

“Come,” she says. “It is time to put your skills to the test.”

I follow her as she nears the edge of Glenheim’s wall, keeping step with her military-like marching. So official. Always so official. Yet I can see in the corner of her cheek a little twitch every now and then.

What are you hiding, girl?

“Myrathellon?” I ask.

“That’s ‘Master’ to you,” she replies without looking at me.

“What, exactly, are we doing?”

She pays me little heed as she stops before the curve of the mushroom-wall and removes her silvered gauntlet from her right hand.

“I told you – today we hunt down a beast that threatens the sanctity of Glenheim.”

“Sounds kinda pointless,” I shrug. “I thought you guys were like invisible to the outside world or something.”

“You should think better of this,” she replies as she palms the side of the wall. “It was on one such hunt that I found you out there, and decided you were worth saving.”

As I snap my eyes up to see her face, she begins to melt through the wall as though the thing was made of nothing but wavy gelatin.

“Come,” she says. “The exit portal will not hold for long.”

I do as she says, wriggling my snout through the wall and feeling a distinct sense of…emptiness.

As I nose my way through the suddenly intangible wall, my mind shuts down entirely. My body feels almost soulless, as though in passing by this barrier I’m leaving part of my entire being behind.

Then with a distinct pop, I’m in the middle of a lush, dense forest, standing beside Myrathellon.

I chance a look behind me to see – nothing. Nothing but rustled leaves and little squirrels chewing on nuts in their tree-dens.

“What the…”

“You are surprised,” Myrathellon states. “It is to be expected. Glenheim can only be seen by Elven eyes – eyes trained by Mistress Palka to always see the home she made for us.”

Myrathellon lifts her hand to caress the air affectionately while I sniff around, looking for any trace of the place we once were.

“Incredible…” I say without thinking. “No wonder you all don’t worry about the Darkseed.”

Myrathellon’s silence in the face of this statement forces me to turn and face her again. She’s looking not at me, but through me. I can’t explain how I know. But there’s something happening in her head right now. And whatever it is, it’s probably not good for me.

I’m suddenly astutely aware of how alone we are out here, amidst nothing but trees and twittering critters.

“Welcome to the Forest of Haven,” she says. “Far from the lands of Deshan from whence you came.”

A place where no one would hear a dog scream…

“Ahem,” Myrathellon coughs. “Well – let us press towards our target.”

Silence dominates our short traversal of the forest, interrupted only by Myrathellon scything through obtrusive leaves or drawing her blade as a squirrel or rabbit pounces out onto our path.

“Uh – Master?” I ask as we stop in the middle of a small glade for a drink. “I gotta admit, I’ve fought the Darkseed’s soldiers before. But in terms of monsters, I’m a bit of a newbie.”

“This is to be expected,” she replies, wiping her mouth and getting up to continue on our path. “Our hunt will be the best practical test of your abilities.”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “Before you off me.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

She grunts. “A warrior should make his opinions clear. But enough of this, look here.”

She unveils a patch of grass where a three-pronged footprint is planted in the ground. A footprint the size of my entire body.

“Let me guess,” I say. “What we’re after?”

“A Cockatrice,” she breathes quietly. “It has been kidnapping animals from human farmsteads on the Plains of Rowan. Its nest must be near.”

I search my brain. “Cockatrice?”

“You will know it when you see it,” she says, before forging on without further explanation.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of…”

…

I follow Myrathellon’s lead past the glade and through more bushes until we finally come to a stop.

But not by choice. We’re literally standing on what looks like the edge of the world. Our path just simply ends, a crater that looks like it stretches into the depths of the earth stands between us and the other side of the forest.

“Whew!” I breathe. “You know, if I was actually looking for Glenheim, I’d probably assume it’d be round about right here.”

Myrathellon grunts in frustration. “Tskall’ith! This is the work of an Earth Elemental.”

Once again, I’m forced to be the ignorant blinking type. “What?”

“A creature born from the pain of the earth itself,” she explains, slamming her fist into the lip of our ledge. “It must have made its home here recently. I do not recall this hole in our forest.”

I give a light harumph as I trot over to the end of the ledge, eyeballing the other side.

“Alright,” I say. “Hop on.”

She looks at me like I’ve stabbed a kitten.

I fluff up my tail, readying it for a hard [Tailcopter]ing. “What’s up? We gotta go this way, right?”

She gulps, her eyes avoiding mine entirely.

“Master?”

“I…am not fond of heights…”

I suppress a chuckle that, if heard, would probably be my death.

“What’s that?” I ask, taking a risk. “Did you just say you’re afraid –“

“NO!” She yelps, clenching her fists. “I – that is – a Glenmaiden fears no obstacle, no matter how treacherous!”

“Really?” I say with a sly grin. “Because it really sounds like you just said –“

“You misheard!”

“Well then, come on!”

She eyes me with trepidation, casting her gaze over the lip of the ledge.

“Are you sure…” she stammers. “Are you sure you can hold me?”

I chuckle up at her. “Hey, it works with a wolf. And you look way lighter than Swiftunner.”

She rounds on me. “If you drop me, then I shall end you!”

I bark right back: “How’s that gonna work? You’ll be dead!”

At this point, unbeknownst to us both, the ground beneath us begins to quake.

Myrathellon snaps through her flushed face. “You see then why I don’t trust your words!”

“Me?!” I ask, forgetting myself completely at this point. “You’re one to talk!”

Another quake.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“You’re keeping something from me!” I shout right back. Then, seeing her look away: “Tell me what this is really all abo-“

“QUIET!”

A voice bellows up at us from the crater beneath our feet, and in the next second a creature of pure, living stone rises from the great pit. It looms over us with two glowing, fiery eyes, and a craggy mouth that opens to reveal not teeth, but layers of serrated stalactites.

Its roar throws piles of pebbles in our faces.

“YOU WAKE AGEMMAR THE GREAT!” the rocky giant roars. “NOW YOU BE RETURNED TO THE EARTH!”