The scent of earth mingled with snow, a cold and clammy embrace. He struggled to open his eyes, to move, but his surroundings were enveloping him in darkness. His body lay buried under the weight of the natural shroud. When he attempted to breathe, dirt invaded his mouth, mingling with the taste of blood and mud. The comfort that the earth offered was peculiar, but the knight mustered every ounce of strength to break free from his entombment. From the outside, he resembled a relentless revenant clawing its way out of the grave.
Bitter winter winds howled, and the air remained frigid. He surveyed his surroundings, finding himself in a dense, high-altitude forest. The hills were covered with ancient, towering cedar trees, while peculiar stunted trees with purple leaves surrounded them, unlike any he had seen before. Most of the branches carried a burden of snow, releasing a cascade of flakes with each gust of wind.
"Ismeth, Caleb, Asvelas!" Brad called out, his voice echoing through the woods.
A slight movement on the snow-covered ground caught his attention, and he hurried over, dropping to his knees and immediately began to dig. After a short while, he uncovered a dark-skinned hand and pulled Ismeth with all his might.
"Well, that was an unexpected wake-up call!" Ismeth exclaimed, spitting out dirt and snow from his mouth.
Brad's hand landed with a resounding slap. "Are you alright?" he inquired urgently. Before receiving a response, he detected another crunching sound from a different direction. Hastening towards it, he dug into the snow and discovered Caleb. The young wizard emerged from beneath the icy covering, retching and vomiting.
While waiting for the two of them to recover, Brad continued searching for Asvelas, but the half-elf was nowhere to be found in the immediate vicinity.
"Morrovis Trees!" Caleb suddenly cried out, pointing towards the peculiar purple trees.
"I can't find Asvelas, and you're blabbering about trees, wizard," Brad retorted, his frustration evident.
"Let's all take a moment to calm down. How did we end up here? That's the pressing question," Ismeth interjected, attempting to bring some clarity to the situation.
"We were on the ship, and then everything happened so rapidly," Caleb muttered, rubbing his chin while deep in thought.
"Creatures were attacking the bulkheads," Ismeth added.
"Astre Arghans," Brad recalled, the memory flooding back.
Caleb's memory was triggered further. "Then we ventured outside the ship and engaged in combat with those creatures."
"Yes, you unleashed a magical light upon them. It disturbed most of the creatures," Brad added, recalling the intense battle.
"It was just a simple illusion spell. I obscured their vision and senses; nothing extraordinary," Caleb replied, his tone showing a touch of pride.
"That's when a magical portal opened," Brad interjected.
"Yeah, it's coming back to me now," Caleb said, trying to focus on the details. "Although, to be precise, it wasn't exactly a magical portal. It was a projected image, showing a specific moment in time."
"Charlotta was there, lying unconscious in a domed room with black walls. She was surrounded by masked men," Brad continued his recollection, going back in time.
"Well, Brad."
"What is it, Ismeth?"
"Are you certain we remember the same scene? Now that I reflect on it, I didn't see a woman in that room. It was an untamed, wild creature inside that domed chamber, and it was attacking wildly," Ismeth countered.
Brad gazed at Ismeth with a perplexed expression.
Caleb began to pace back and forth, lost in thought. "It's conceivable. It could be a timeless mirror, a dimensional portal of sorts. Even though the space remains constant, each observer perceives a different moment in time," he attempted to explain. "That aligns with what I mentioned earlier. Your connection with the woman seems to grant you glimpses of her on the astral plane. It's an extraordinary bond."
"For the umpteenth time, I've only known her for a day. I don't know anything significant about her," Brad protested.
"Nevertheless, there is a profound connection that remains unexplored," Caleb mumbled.
"So, how did we end up here? Did we pass through the mirror?" Ismeth inquired.
"Did we pass through the mirror? An intriguing thought. Yes, that sounds plausible. Why not?" Caleb hesitantly agreed. "Alright, gentlemen. Does anyone recall what happened afterward?" he inquired, looking at the others.
Both Brad and Ismeth shook their heads, signaling they had no recollection of the events that followed.
As the first light of day began to pierce the thick, dark clouds, the pale blue moon of Maia Piri, the Goddess of Water and Mistress of the Endless Sea, appeared and disappeared behind the dense cloud banks. The crimson red of the rising sun cast a faint beam of ethereal purple light from beyond the towering eastern peaks, a sight discernible only to the most perceptive eyes. As Brad gradually became more aware of his surroundings, he noticed distinct, pitted marks in the snowy covering of the steep western peaks.
"I believe we tumbled down this slope," he remarked, gesturing towards the tracks.
"I might have conjured a snow globe," Caleb speculated, then corrected himself, "No, it must have been a resilient sphere."
The wizard searched his mind, realizing that most of the spells he had committed to memory had vanished, including the resilient sphere spell.
"Let's rest and follow the trail," Brad suggested, reluctant to halt their ascent as he looked at the steep path before them.
Feeling exhausted, they all quickly agreed. The night had been long, and much of it was a blur in their memories. A new day had dawned, and they were hungry for answers.
Brad and Ismeth gathered some edible plants, and fortune favored them when they stumbled upon a rabbit nearby, frozen by the night's chill. Caleb, who had been honing his spellcasting skills while they collected food, ignited a simple fire spell to cook the rabbit meat. They seasoned it with the herbs they had gathered and enjoyed their meal.
As the day brightened, the sun's feeble rays failed to warm the air significantly, but its presence brought a sense of tranquility. Their clothes were soaked and muddy, and they knew finding shelter was an urgent priority. After a two-hour rest, guided by Brad, they set out to follow the trail and ascend the steep western peak.
"It's like I recall rolling down here, yet, at the same time, it's as if it didn't happen. It's a very peculiar sensation," Ismeth remarked.
"That's because we were in our astral bodies until that moment," Caleb responded. "And due to the moriphis mushroom, we experienced an accelerated journey."
"What do you mean?" Ismeth inquired.
"The moriphis fungus nearly halts the heart, rendering us virtually lifeless. It's an incredibly dangerous and swift journey. That's why it's difficult to recollect what occurred. However, that's not the main issue. We should have returned to our bodies, back in the ship's cabin," Caleb continued.
"Some force pulled us here," Brad said.
"That's theoretically possible. But it would have to be someone very powerful. That's what really scares me," Caleb replied.
"I don't understand a damn thing again," Ismeth said.
"Teleport magic is simple. The wizard touches you and takes you somewhere if you are willing. Or he opens a portal, and you follow the mage who cast the spell. But what we are experiencing is something different."
"A force is pulling me somewhere. And because you're with me, you're subjected to the same force," Brad said.
Caleb didn't answer, but his expression revealed he was pondering the same idea. The trio continued their ascent of the steep hill, trudging through the thickening snow. "But where is Asvelas?" Ismeth asked quietly.
Brad heard him but remained silent.
As they moved through the vegetation, which thinned as they reached the summit, they had been walking for a little over half an hour when Brad hissed, "Quiet," and pointed to a spot to their northwest.
They all turned their gaze in the same direction. There, they noticed a steep hill covered in shiny, jagged black rocks, and a castle built on the eastern slope of the hill, constructed with the same dark stones. To the right and left of the main building stood two small domed outbuildings, and tall towers rose on all four sides. The outer walls of the structure seemed to merge seamlessly with the hill of rocks, creating an imposing sight.
Brad began digging in the snow until he reached the ground, revealing the same black rock covering the floor. He carefully touched it with his knife.
"Onyx stone," Caleb whispered, and Brad nodded.
"This must be the Black Crystal. Asvelas told me a few things about this place. He mentioned that he had been a slave in this castle in his past and didn't have fond memories," Caleb continued.
"Did he mention the landlord?" Brad asked. A clear image of the elf in the black cloak and cane flashed in his mind.
"Yeah, I think so. It must have been a Varyl elf noble named Eldarion," Caleb replied. "Why did you ask?"
Brad sat down on a rock and started laughing. "What a coincidence, huh? The elf lord next to Charlotta is also named Eldarion," he said sarcastically.
"No, we're back to square one. You're implying that Asvelas is involved," Caleb protested.
"Do all these coincidences still seem normal to you?" Brad asked back.
Caleb couldn't answer. He had a few logical explanations in his mind, but even those didn't seem adequate. "We'll go in and get to the bottom of this," was all he could say.
As they approached the onyx crystal walls, they were astonished by the mirror-like appearance of the veined structures. Absorbing the weak sunlight, the surface of the dark crystal was pale yet vibrant, as if it were softly growing. The wind had grown louder and howling, adding an eerie ambiance to the scene. They circled around the walls, spotting a winding path leading down the other side of the hill and connecting to the castle.
Climbing the walls seemed perilous as the surface was too smooth to provide any grip. Strangely, they found no closed doors, only a single entrance left unguarded, which further intensified their unease. Gathering their courage, they took a deep breath and climbed through a seemingly natural hollow step between the crystals, entering the castle grounds.
After traversing a slightly curving tunnel, they emerged into a courtyard. The main building and two outbuildings stood directly before them. Oddly, as they stepped inside, the wind ceased, and the cold dissipated, replaced by a dry and eerily silent atmosphere. Their footsteps were the only sounds that echoed.
Brad felt his muscles tense, his senses alert. Although his heightened sense of smell failed to give him a clear direction, he detected a faint odor of blood as he approached the left outbuilding.
"This is it," he whispered, drawing his sword with caution.
Brad cautiously opened the wooden door, and the three of them entered, moving together with keen awareness. The room was all too familiar—the same couch where Charlotta had slept, the furniture now scattered chaotically. The horrifying scene before them showed the dismembered bodies of the masked men.
"That's exactly what I feared," Ismeth remarked, looking at the grotesque sight with disgust.
Brad proceeded to unmask the faces of the dead men, one by one, revealing their once-beautiful elven features now marred with stitched scars and harvested skin.
"These men were already dead when they received these gruesome modifications," he observed, studying their faces.
The masked men might have been graceful elves in the past, but now they bore the marks of crude surgery and their skin appeared to be brutally taken from them. Brad noticed similar patches of skin on their arms and feet.
"The stitches show a surgeon's precision, yet it's a savage and brutal act," Caleb commented, pondering over the origins of the gruesome modifications.
"The final touches were far from caring," Ismeth added grimly.
"The deep claw marks suggest a powerful and ferocious creature was involved," Brad said, contemplating the terrifying implications.
Just as Brad moved, he heard a faint sound emanating from the direction of a collapsed bookcase. Without hesitation, he rushed over and effortlessly lifted the heavy, solid wood structure. Underneath lay a short man, a gnome, lying face down. Brad recognized him immediately.
"Melphin," he whispered as he carefully turned the gnome over, checking his breathing.
The gnome, with a deep wound in his chest, struggled to breathe.
"You must stop him," the gnome whispered hoarsely.
"Stop who?" Brad inquired, but the gnome remained silent.
Brad realized that Melphin's life had already slipped away.
"He's referring to Charlotta," a new voice rang out, reverberating through the room. They all searched for the source of the sound.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
At the top of the domed ceiling, a man appeared, seemingly suspended in mid-air. He wore a black cloak adorned with purple embroidery and held a cane.
Brad's voice brimmed with anger. "It's you! The one who abducted Charlotta!"
The elf responded with a cold, indifferent stare.
Ismeth approached Caleb and asked, "Can't you cast a spell and bring him down?"
Caleb shook his head in negation. "Sorry I can't. He's not physically here. It's a projection spell, a potent illusion. He must be situated far away," the young wizard replied.
Unsatisfied with the young wizard's deduction, Brad unsheathed his dagger and hurled it with precision at the ethereal image of the elf. The blade sliced through the illusion, striking the ceiling with a clang before clattering to the floor.
The elf's countenance remained undisturbed, his composure unshaken. "You should keep your weapons close, knight. You may find them quite useful very soon," he calmly advised. "There is no need for such tension. I mean you no harm," he added, his voice smooth and calculated.
"Where are Charlotta and Asvelas?" Brad inquired, his frustration evident.
Eldarion's smile widened slightly, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "So, you truly don't recall the events of last night?" he remarked, amused. "How intriguing."
"According to Caleb, we were here last night, and then we somehow ended up down the hill," Ismeth interjected.
The elf nodded, confirming the account. "I took the sorceress with me to save her," Eldarion revealed.
Brad's suspicions flared. "Wizards like you never do favors without an ulterior motive," he retorted.
Caleb readily supported Brad's statement. "I concur," he added.
Eldarion's tone oozed arrogance as he responded, "Let's just say I was fascinated by her unique situation. What she possesses could be a crucial fulcrum for my experiments."
Caleb pointed at the mutilated corpses on the floor and suggested, "You must be seeking ways to enhance your zombies."
Unfazed by the accusations, Eldarion maintained his composed demeanor. "Oh, I have much grander plans than just improving zombies," he said with a sly smile. "But you are correct in assuming that Charlotta possesses something of great value to me."
Brad's anger flared up. "What have you done to her?" he demanded.
The elf chuckled softly. "I assure you, she is quite safe, for now. She's simply a means to an end, a puzzle I intend to solve."
Caleb couldn't help but interject, "You're a madman!"
Eldarion's expression remained unchanged. "Madness is relative. What some may see as madness, others may see as genius."
"Tell us where she is!" Brad shouted, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.
Eldarion shrugged indifferently. "As tempting as it is to keep you in suspense, I have no interest in engaging in prolonged games. I will show you where your friends are."
He raised his hand, and the image of the castle flickered before changing. They saw Charlotta and Asvelas confined in a dark, windowless room. Their face showed signs of fear and exhaustion.
"That's enough!" Brad yelled, unable to bear seeing her in such distress.
The projection vanished, leaving them in the dimly lit room once more.
"Definitely we can't trust him," Ismeth warned, his hand on the hilt of his own weapon.
Caleb added, "I believe this was a false illusion just to make you angry, Brad. Don’t let him play with you. We must be careful."
Yet, Brad's anger grew and he started to cut the dead bodies of masked elves just to calm down while looking in the eyes of the floating elf.
"Stop it! They are my vassals!" Eldarion cried sternly. He was disturbed and frustrated by this move.
"Vassals? Only one dark elf refers to zombies in such a manner. No, you can't be him. The Geneticist," Caleb exclaimed, taken aback by the revelation.
Eldarion's pride swelled as he heard the name, bowing slightly as if to introduce himself.
"Who is this Geneticist?" Ismeth inquired, puzzled by the mention.
"Geneticist is one of the Artisan's most devoted followers, a mysterious elf wizard seeking to harness spells akin to those wielded by the Artisan. No, no, the tales say he must be over a thousand years old, far too ancient even for an elf," Caleb explained.
Eldarion's arrogant smile persisted.
"Because you are already dead," Caleb deduced with realization.
"Let's just say I lack basic mortal needs like breathing, food, or water," Eldarion admitted nonchalantly.
"But why are you so obsessed with Charlotta? That is the real question. Why did a figure as enigmatic as you reveal himself?" Caleb pressed.
The elf remained silent, savoring the unfolding drama.
"Because Charlotta discovered something. That something..." Caleb's words faltered as he reached a conclusion.
"Because Charlotta opened a magical chest, and inside it, she found one of the Artisan's relics," Brad interjected. "I didn't witness it, but whatever happened must have occurred at that moment."
Eldarion's excitement grew palpable.
"It's from the Book of the Damned, a creation of the Artisan. Yes, of course. That must be the answer—a living book. And that shard merged with her. It clung to her skin like a patch, much like you attempted to do with your zombies," Caleb elucidated.
"She became one with it," Eldarion said with a sinister smile.
"And you lured us here, part of your treacherous trap," Brad accused, his voice firm with resolve.
Eldarion shook his head with a dismissive smirk. "No, knight. The sorceress may have summoned you here, but there's another enigma surrounding you, and that greatly intrigues me."
"You're intrigued because Brad might have suffered the same affliction, undergone the same transformation. Because he stood in the same place, exposed to the same mystical essence," Caleb explained.
Eldarion chuckled in amusement, clearly finding the situation intriguing.
"But something safeguards Brad," Caleb muttered, his gaze flickering between Brad and the dagger resting on the floor.
Curious, Brad blinked and picked up the dagger. Seeing what Caleb intended, the wizard promptly covered Ismeth's and his own eyes with his cloak. Brad focused his will, and in an explosion of blinding light, a burst of magical energy emanated from the dagger. Lasting only a fleeting moment, the elf lord hovering above them in the dome let out a piercing cry before vanishing abruptly.
The room fell into silence as the blinding light dispersed. The elf lord was gone, leaving a lingering sense of uncertainty among the trio.
"Well, honestly, I didn't expect that to work," Caleb said, a pleased smile spreading across his face.
"That elf is an evil being. If the Eye of Orion didn't kill him, at least it must have hurt him badly," Brad retorted with a hint of satisfaction.
"He will regain his strength soon," Caleb replied, his expression turning serious.
"What was that intense burst of light?" Ismeth asked, still rubbing his sore eyes.
"The medallion possesses an exorcism power designed to target demonic entities," Caleb explained.
"You could've warned me beforehand," Ismeth scolded. "I nearly went blind!"
"Fear not, Ismeth. You're not that evil," Brad teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, it wasn't the ideal moment for explanations. We had to catch him off guard."
"Improvisation is always the best offense," Caleb agreed, a twinkle in his eye.
"Let's not linger too long. We should explore this place and then continue our journey," Brad suggested.
"But where to?" asked Ismeth, still feeling a bit disoriented.
"To Taneras Forest, of course," replied Brad confidently. "We're quite close to it."
"I hope we find out what happened to Asvelas and uncover the events of last night," Caleb muttered, "because I despise having unanswered questions," he sighed in frustration.
* * *
The trio embarked on a quest to forage supplies for their journey and hopelessly checked the castle to find any trails of Charlotta and Asvelas.
Ismeth's spirits soared when he discovered dried meat in the cellar of the grand domed edifice. Meanwhile, Caleb and Brad set forth to survey the towers. Ismeth initially joined Caleb's side on the eastern flank. The young wizard positioned himself before the door, deftly wielding a metal rod in his hand.
"I thought you were a wizard," Ismeth teased, a playful chuckle escaping him.
"It's a skill I acquired during my upbringing as an orphan," Caleb responded, his attention unwaveringly focused on the task.
Simultaneously, Brad stood before the tower's door on the western side. The stalwart warrior abruptly initiated a forceful assault on the door.
"You don't need to do that, Brad! Our friend Caleb used to be a thief. Allow him to handle it," Ismeth called out, voicing his concern.
Without glancing at him, Brad retorted, "Moans and growls are emanating from inside," persistently kicking at the door hinges.
Taking in Brad's words, Caleb pressed his ear against the door. Indeed, he could discern muffled moans resonating from within. "I hear the same sounds from here as well," he announced to Brad.
"Perhaps Charlotta or Asvelas are trapped inside," Brad speculated.
Caleb took a step back from the door. "We should contemplate this situation. Hasty decisions may prove unwise," he advised.
However, Brad paid no heed to his words. His kicks intensified, causing the door hinges to tremor vigorously. Concurrently, the door in front of Caleb and Ismeth began to shudder from impacts within. The duo retreated a few more steps.
"Brad, my dear friend, could you please compose yourself? Something extraordinary is unfolding!" Ismeth bellowed at the top of his lungs.
Brad remained oblivious, his neck and facial veins engorged, perspiration glistening in the frigid air. He became entirely taut and delivered one final, potent kick to the door. The hinges shattered, and the door flew open. At that instant, a jet-black, fur-clad creature leaped at Brad. The knight narrowly managed to evade the attack, his consciousness teetering on the edge.
Ismeth was on the verge of dashing to Brad's aid when the distance between them stretched to fifteen or twenty meters. The door of the adjacent tower shattered from within, revealing yet another monstrous black-furred giant. Caleb swiftly grasped Ismeth's arm, urging him toward the main entrance and the tunnel beyond.
"These are undead giant wolves," Caleb gasped, trying to catch his breath. "We better steer clear of them," he added as they pressed forward.
Ismeth could discern from the creature's patchy skin that it bore no resemblance to anything natural. "Seems like this elf wizard has a depraved collection," he remarked, his voice tinged with revulsion.
Everything was unfolding at an alarming pace. Ismeth found himself torn between the urge to reach Brad and extend help and Caleb's guidance towards the nearby door.
As Brad rose to his feet, he locked eyes with the looming creature. Ismeth shuddered, witnessing the untamed ferocity exchanged through their gazes, as if two primal beasts were issuing a challenge before the imminent clash.
Brad's composure remained unwavering as he deftly unsheathed his sword and shifted his right foot back, assuming a poised defensive stance. The undead wolf reacted with snarls and vicious spittle, displaying its aggressive response to his presence. Caleb, awestruck by Brad's extraordinary calmness, yet apprehensive of the impending danger, involuntarily shuddered.
The other mammoth wolf glanced between the two adversaries before honing in on Brad. In a synchronized assault, both colossal creatures lunged forward, intent on their attack.
Caleb and Ismeth hesitated momentarily before swiftly darting into the nearby tunnel. Speaking an incantation with practiced precision, Caleb summoned a magical force that sent the oncoming wolf crashing into an existing ice wall, the collision resulting in the shattering of the undead beast into fragments.
Ismeth, bewildered and defensive, had collapsed to the ground initially, but as the situation became clear, he gradually recovered from the shock. The infuriated wolf relentlessly slashed at the formidable ice barrier with its claws, but to no avail, eventually retreating in frustration.
As Ismeth regained his equilibrium, he joined Caleb in observing the surreal scene against the icy barrier. Brad had skillfully inflicted a deep gash on the lunging wolf, causing its distended belly to split open, with viscera seeping from the grievous wound. Strangely, the undead creature appeared impervious to its severe injuries. While its movements had slowed, it continued to circle Brad with an unyielding determination, seeking a vulnerable point in his well-practiced defenses.
Meanwhile, Brad had adroitly minimized his body's exposure, intending to deliver more precise and powerful strikes. However, he had not emerged unscathed, as the wolf's razor-sharp claws left a painful mark on his right shoulder during his valiant swordplay. Undeterred, the second gigantic wolf pressed forward, undaunted by the danger that lay ahead.
"Dispel this ice wall," Ismeth demanded of Caleb, his frustration manifesting in a series of forceful punches against the magical barrier.
"My apologies, but the spell's duration is fixed," Caleb responded, diverting his attention momentarily as Brad beckoned him over. "There appears to be a passage leading from the tower to the walls. You can traverse through it," he suggested.
With a determined nod and a firm grip on his wounded shoulder, Brad swiftly made his way toward the entrance of the nearby tower, which stood a mere few meters away. Skillfully avoiding the desperate attack of the injured giant wolf, whose movements inadvertently blocked the path for its healthier companion, the resilient knight ventured through the doorway and began ascending the spiraling stairs. The lifeless wolves followed suit, their cold, unfeeling eyes penetrating the shadows of the tower.
Left without a clear view of the unfolding events, Ismeth and Caleb emerged from the tunnel and hurried towards the western walls. Ismeth cautiously advanced, seeking to glimpse his companion from a strategic vantage point. As they approached the precipice of the cliff, their hearts pounded with a mix of anxiety and determination.
The castle's western wing, nestled beneath the foundation of resplendent onyx rocks, posed an arduous and treacherous climb with its sheer and formidable cliffs. The obsidian-hued crags were draped in a shroud of glistening snow, and a hazardous incline extended for an impressive five to six hundred meters. Past the treacherous slope, a verdant forest adorned with stately pine and majestic cedar trees beckoned.
Fortune favored Brad, for the undead giant wolves lacked the gift of strategic cognition. The first creature that pursued him happened to be the wounded one. As it reached the entryway on the ground floor, it paused, attempting to launch an assault within the narrow corridor. With a swift and decisive maneuver, Brad severed the beast's claws and throat in a singular, precise strike.
Nonetheless, the act exacted a toll on him. When their gazes locked, he distinctly sensed the agony within the lifeless creature. He battled not for pleasure, but to end the creature's torment and secure his own survival.
In the midst of the encounter with the colossal wolves, a faint memory from his past resurfaced in Brad's mind. Though he couldn't fully grasp the precise connection, he felt an enigmatic familiarity with these magnificent beasts.
He entered the room on the ground floor. The floor was strewn with dismembered corpses, while the massive wooden table was cluttered with cutting and dissecting tools, pieces of leather, and dried stains of blood. The stench inside was the epitome of putrid decay, causing Brad to involuntarily retch.
As the second giant wolf entered the room, the knight found himself on the other side of the table. He had taken a relatively clean cloth and soaked it in alcohol, pressing it firmly against his bleeding shoulder. The wound burned like fire, causing beads of sweat to trickle down his face.
Once again, their gazes locked, but this time, there was something different in the creature's eyes. The beast paused, tilting its head slightly. A patch of mottled skin on its neck started to peel away, revealing vocal cords beneath.
"You must hate me for what I've done to these creatures, knight," it spoke with an eerie accent.
Brad had already deduced the identity of the speaker.
"You're no ordinary demon, Eldarion. My duty is to defeat creatures like you."
"Don't put too much faith in that dagger-embedded medallion, knight. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already. No, I have other plans for you. There's something about you that I haven't figured out yet, and I intend to discover it."
Brad clenched his teeth with anger but didn't respond. He needed time to gather his strength, to prepare for what lay ahead.
"You must surely be acquainted with the ancient tale of the Hunter and the Beast," spoke the dark-souled elf through the wolf's mouth.
"Seems like the tale is making its rounds these days," Brad murmured.
"The discerning aspect between the Hunter and the Beast lies in their motives: one kills to sustain life, while the other takes life to uphold order."
"Not quite. The Hunter strikes when the Beast disrupts the equilibrium," Brad retorted.
The undead wolf emitted an eerie and guttural laughter.
"Indeed. You unmistakably hail from the lineage of the Hunter. The Eye of Orion's favor upon you should not come as a surprise."
"And you, you're the next monstrosity I'll vanquish," Brad declared, crouching beneath the table.
The massive wooden table proved cumbersome, yet the burly knight summoned all his strength, rapidly hoisting it and hurtling it towards the colossal wolf with unwavering determination. Although the lifeless creature managed to evade the collision at the eleventh hour, it couldn't escape the repercussions on its hind legs, which resulted in bones being crushed and broken.
With a composed sprint, Brad swiftly reached the adjacent door and ascended to the second floor, then to the third. Echoing behind him, the colossal wolf followed with a noticeable limp. As he expected, the exit door leading outside was secured.
Undeterred, Brad unleashed a flurry of kicks, knees, and powerful strikes upon the unyielding obstacle. Fortunately, the door proved less robust than the tower's imposing main entrance. After a few determined blows, it yielded, leaving him with throbbing fists, knees, and feet. Nonetheless, he steeled himself and stepped into the open, setting course along the circular path lining the fortress walls, heading toward the main entrance.
Shortly thereafter, the lifeless giant wolf emerged, shadowing the knight's every move. In that moment, Brad perceived something deeply disconcerting. The accursed creature was regenerating with astonishing speed. Under his breath, the knight muttered a curse, sensing his own strength waning. He glanced down at the nearby wall, beholding the ominous darkness of the rocks and the chasm beyond – a truly daunting sight.
With a relentless charge, the undead giant wolf hurtled toward Brad. In the nick of time, Brad nimbly ascended the wall, positioning himself at the top of the stairs, poised to confront the approaching beast. In a sudden turn, the massive creature leaped toward him. Brad acted with uncanny swiftness, flinging himself to the right and downwards, narrowly evading the collision.
Just a heartbeat earlier, while surveying his surroundings, Brad discerned a slender crevice nestled between the sheer rocks upon which the castle perched. As the wrathful creature lunged downward, Brad vaulted into that crevice. It proved to be a precarious ledge where he barely managed to find footing for both feet. Struggling with all his remaining strength to maintain balance, his attempts were in vain.
Witnessing the scene, Ismeth's voice rang out in anguish, "No!"
Caleb, with agile swiftness, rushed toward Brad, uttering a single incantation, "Fehan!"
Despite Brad's futile endeavors to regain his balance, he lost it once more, only to be spared a second time by Caleb's Featherfall spell. Gracefully and unharmed, he descended down the rugged cliffs. However, his landing spot was a steep, snow-filled slope, rendering it impossible to stand upright. The moment his feet touched the ground, he surrendered control and embarked on a wild, uncontrollable tumble downward. Regrettably, even the resourceful wizard Caleb had no spell to thwart this fall.
Helplessly, the duo watched as the knight rolled with speed and disorder, vanishing amidst the dense clusters of snow, hundreds of meters below. The impact of his fall triggered an avalanche, swiftly obliterating all traces of his descent.