The forest stretched endlessly, a vast and untamed wilderness of towering trees and thick underbrush. The midday sun filtered through the dense canopy above, creating a patchwork of golden light and deep shadows on the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of moss, earth, and blooming wildflowers. The ancient trees, their bark gnarled and covered in patches of vivid green moss, stood like silent sentinels. The forest was alive with sound—the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the distant call of unseen creatures.
In a sunlit clearing, two beasts were locked in fierce combat. The first was a massive boar-like creature, easily twice the size of a carriage. Its tusks were jagged and blackened, dripping with a dark, viscous liquid that hissed and steamed upon contact with the ground. Its skin was leathery and cracked as if scorched by fire, and bony spines protruded from its back, rattling ominously with each movement. A faint, dark mist clung to it, casting a shadow over the sunlit clearing. Its glowing green eyes radiated malice, and the air around it carried a faint metallic tang, the scent of decay.
Its opponent was a magnificent deer-like creature, though far from ordinary. Its antlers were massive, resembling an intricate network of intertwined branches. Green vines coiled around them dotted with vibrant leaves and glowing blossoms. Its coat shimmered in shades of earthy brown and green, blending perfectly with the surroundings. As it moved, small patches of grass and flowers sprouted beneath its hooves, only to wither moments later. Its luminous, amber eyes glowed faintly, exuding an aura of natural majesty amidst chaos.
The beasts clashed violently, the boar’s tusks slamming into the deer’s side with a force that shook the ground. The deer retaliated, its antlers glowing with soft green light before thrusting forward, gouging deep into the boar’s thick hide. The forest trembled as they battled, the sound of their roars echoing through the trees and startling flocks of birds into the air.
Perched on a high branch overlooking the clearing, Lucius crouched, watching the fight with a mixture of awe and caution. The sunlight dappled his tattered clothing and burnt skin, his scarlet hair catching occasional glints of gold. His sharp eyes flicked between the two creatures, tracking their movements with wary fascination.
"Join the fight," the voice hissed in his mind, its tone both commanding and eager. "Let their blood nourish the flames. Test your power."
Lucius scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Are you stupid? Yeah, sure, let me jump down there and fight the giant death-boar and the magic deer. Great plan, voice. Truly brilliant."
The voice growled, its tone dripping with disdain. "You fear too much. A true wielder of flame does not cower before beasts."
"And yet," Lucius retorted, his voice heavy with sarcasm, "if I listened to you, I’d be dead. Or worse, boar food." He sighed and leaned back against the sturdy trunk of the tree, letting the sunlight warm his face through the gaps in the leaves. "Why are you always trying to get me killed?"
The voice did not answer immediately, its growl simmering in the back of his mind. Lucius used the brief silence to reflect. It had been a week since he’d entered this forest, and it hadn’t been anything close to easy.
Survival, he quickly realized, was not his strong suit. His mother had always been the one to handle practical matters—hunting, cooking, even something as simple as finding drinkable water. Without her, he’d spent the first two days stumbling through the forest like a lost child, which, he supposed bitterly, wasn’t far from the truth.
And then there was the voice. At first, Lucius had assumed it was some all-knowing entity, a guide to his newfound powers. That illusion shattered the moment it started egging him on to fight a creature with three heads and six sets of claws. After barely escaping with his life, Lucius came to a grim conclusion: the voice wasn’t omniscient, and it certainly didn’t care about his survival. It was like having a trigger-happy lunatic in his head, constantly urging him to set things on fire and pick fights he couldn’t win.
That realization had changed how he treated it. What once was a voice he approached with reverence and fear had become more of an annoying, albeit dangerous, presence he learned to ignore. Most of the time.
"You are wasting time," the voice growled, cutting into his thoughts. "The flame demands action, not hesitation."
"Yeah, well, the flame isn’t the one trying to survive out here," Lucius muttered. He leaned forward again, watching as the boar slammed the deer to the ground with a resounding crash. He winced. "Nope. Definitely not joining that hell."
The voice let out a low, guttural laugh. "Coward. But you’ll see. Soon enough, you’ll need the fire to burn your enemies. And when you do, you’ll call upon me."
Lucius ignored it, his focus on the clearing below, where the battle raged on, the sunlight glinting off the shimmering antlers and blackened tusks of the combatants.
Lucius watched intently as the battle unfolded in the clearing below. The boar was gaining the upper hand, its sheer size and relentless brutality overwhelming the deer. Each clash of tusks against antlers sent shockwaves rippling through the ground, and the deer’s movements were becoming sluggish, its glowing antlers dimming as blood seeped from deep gashes in its sides.
Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
"The boar’s going to win," Lucius muttered to himself, gripping a small bundle of dried herbs he’d scavenged earlier. They were strong, their pungent scent enough to irritate even him when crushed. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against the monstrous creatures below, but he had learned a few tricks during his week of survival.
Taking a deep breath, Lucius whispered, “Ignite.”
For a moment, nothing happened. He frowned, concentrating harder as the familiar heat began to stir deep within him. Slowly, a faint spark ignited at his fingertips, catching the edge of the herbs. Crimson flames flickered to life, weak at first but growing steadily, sending up tendrils of thick, acrid smoke.
Lucius noted how much harder it was to summon the flames now than it had been during the destruction of the village. Back then, his rage had been a bottomless well, fueling his power effortlessly. Now, without the overwhelming anger, it felt like drawing water from a dry well.
"Figures," he muttered, shaking his head. There was no time to dwell on it. He tossed the burning herbs down into the clearing, aiming for the boar. The bundle landed perfectly on the beast’s broad back.
The boar paused mid-charge, its massive head swinging around as it sniffed the air. The flames didn’t seem to bother it much—its thick hide was far too tough—but the smoke billowing from the burning herbs was another story. It let out a low, guttural snarl, but before it could react further, the ground beneath them began to tremble.
Lucius froze, gripping the branch tightly as the tremors grew stronger, shaking the surrounding trees. Then, from the shadows of the forest, a massive creature emerged—a salamander-like beast, its body covered in shimmering green scales that glinted like emeralds under the sunlight. Its elongated body slithered with unnatural grace, its powerful legs ending in razor-sharp claws. Smoke curled from its nostrils, and its glowing yellow eyes locked onto the clearing.
The salamander’s head swung toward the scent of the burning herbs, its pupils narrowing as it let out a deep, guttural hiss. Its hostility was immediate and palpable as it set its sights on the boar. With a roar that echoed through the forest, the salamander charged, its maw opening to reveal rows of serrated teeth.
The boar, unperturbed by the deer moments ago, now faced a new and more ferocious opponent. It met the salamander’s charge with its own, the ground shaking beneath their combined weight. The deer, though injured, wasn’t about to back down either, and with its glowing antlers blazing to life, it rejoined the fray.
Lucius watched in awe as the battle transformed into utter chaos, the three creatures tearing into each other with primal ferocity.
“This is my chance,” he whispered, his heart pounding. He cast one last glance at the combatants before climbing down from the tree and slipping into the dense foliage.
He headed in the direction the salamander had come from, reasoning that it must have a territory or den nearby. If he could get far enough away before the fight ended, he might avoid becoming the next thing on the victor’s menu.
As he ran, weaving through trees and leaping over roots, he couldn’t help but smirk. “Guess for once the flames are helpful,” he muttered. The flames and smoke had done their job, and now, for once, it was someone else’s problem.
Lucius pushed through the dense undergrowth, his breathing steady despite the pace he kept. Minutes passed before he reached the outskirts of what appeared to be a den, a hollowed-out area surrounded by jagged rocks and trees with claw marks gouged deep into their bark. The ground was scorched in places, evidence of the salamander’s fiery nature.
He crouched low, scanning his surroundings carefully. After a week of near-death experiences, he’d learned to be cautious. His eyes darted between the shadows, looking for signs of movement, but all was still. The salamander was far too occupied with the fight to notice an intruder in its territory.
Lucius allowed himself a small sigh of relief as he crept into the den. The faint glow of sunlight filtered through gaps in the canopy above, illuminating the interior. The place smelled of sulfur and decay, a sharp contrast to the earthy scent of the forest outside.
As he moved deeper into the den, Lucius couldn’t help but think about the salamander’s strength. It’s leagues above the other beasts here, he mused. He remembered how he’d come up with his plan to use the salamander to his advantage.
From the moment he entered the forest, Lu realized he was utterly outclassed by the creatures within it. Every beast seemed faster, stronger, and deadlier than he could have imagined. Facing them head-on was a death sentence, and if he couldn’t hunt, he couldn’t eat. Hunger had gnawed at him for days before he noticed something: the salamander was the only beast in the area that laid eggs.
Eggs meant food—food that didn’t require a direct confrontation. Stealing from the salamander was a desperate gamble, but it was better than starving.
The faint sound of his footsteps on the rocky floor echoed slightly as he reached the back of the den. There, nestled in a crude nest of ash and smoldering embers, were several massive eggs, their surfaces shimmering faintly with a greenish hue. Each one was about half his size, their tough shells glowing faintly like molten glass.
Lucius hesitated for a moment, taking in the sheer size of them. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. He moved toward the smallest of the clutch, deciding it was the most practical choice. Even so, as he lifted it, he felt its weight strain his arms despite the unnatural strength he had come to possess.
He paused for a moment, marveling at his own transformation. A week ago, he was a normal child—at least, physically. But now, his muscles felt denser, his reflexes sharper, and his strength far beyond anything a twelve-year-old—or even a grown man—should possess.
"This body isn’t human anymore," he muttered, though he already knew that.
As he began his cautious exit from the den, the voice returned, its tone insidious and coaxing.
"Burn the traces. The salamander will know you were here. It will hunt you, boy. Scorch the earth behind you, and it will lose the trail."
Lucius rolled his eyes, annoyed but not surprised. "Yeah, right," he muttered. "Like you’re not just trying to get me killed faster. You want the salamander to come back quicker and have me for dinner, you piece of shit."
"You doubt me? The flames are your strength. You’ve already seen how weak you are without them. Use them! Or are you truly so pathetic?"
Lucius ignored the voice, biting back a sharp retort. He wasn’t going to fall for its tricks again. He shifted the egg in his arms, adjusting his balance, and focused on navigating back through the den.
Every step was careful and deliberate. The salamander might be preoccupied for now, but he knew better than to linger. The last thing he needed was to alert it with a stray sound or a reckless move.
The weight of the egg slowed him down, but he pressed on, determined. As he left the den and the eerie glow of the nest faded behind him, Lucius felt a small sense of victory. For now, he had food—enough to quell his week-long hunger and keep him alive for another day.
He gritted his teeth and began the trek back to his makeshift camp. "Let’s see how you like that," he muttered to the voice, half-smirking.
Behind him, the forest was silent save for the occasional distant roar of beasts. The tension of survival never left, but for the first time in a while, Lucius felt like he had gained something.