[The time has finally come.] Murmured a deep raspy voice, breaking the silence that filled the dimly lit room. The place was illuminated by what seemed to be merely a handful of crooked black candles. The unnatural violet flames danced merrily atop the bizarre twisted wicks, casting eerie shadows upon the cold, rough stone walls. Partaking in the ghastly spectacle, the flames flickered in response to the movement of the robed figure, almost as if sharing the excitement that was permeating the stale air of the cellar at that very moment. The man strode with long yet steady steps towards the centre of the room, swiftly approaching the glowing magical circle crackling with arcane powers threatening to overflow at any moment.
The air within the room suddenly turned cold, as the man raised his voice in an elaborate incantation. In mere moments, long tendrils of violet energy rose from the ground, responding to his call. At first, it looked as if the tendrils struggled against an invisible force, wiggling along the floor blindly and meekly, not leaving the bounds of the magical circle in the slightest. Yet as his incantation rose in power and intensity, so did they.
Within moments, the tendrils shot out into the air, grasping for something unseen. The target of their attention struggled in vain, as the tentacles found their prey, entangling it with ease of a seasoned hunter. Suddenly, a pulse of power rushed across the room, as the incantation reached a level of intensity that would send shivers down the spine of anyone unlucky enough to witness the grim scene.
The man was shouting at this point, his face twisted in a grimace vaguely reminiscent of a smile, albeit one that clearly bordered on madness. The ritual was nearing it’s climax.
As the tentacles finally managed to drag down whatever it was that they caught, the man walked towards a shoddy looking wooden table at the corner of the room. The dust stirred and started swirling around, forming intricate patterns in the air over-saturated with magic, as a hand beaming with power reached for a tiny wooden cage rested atop the unkept surface, yanking it open impatiently and dragging out a tiny pixie by her leg.
The poor creature’s body was covered in delicate patterns, undoubtedly magical in nature as she didn’t as much as let out a yelp while the man carried her back towards the magical circle, her body limp in his hand.
All of a sudden, a blinding explosion of a searing light covered the room, toppling over the deformed candles, the blaze of which could now rival the brightest of torches, as the man threw the little unmoving creature towards the swarm of tendrils. And then, there was darkness.
A sudden pained gasp was the only thing that dared interrupt the tranquil silence that took hold of the room, closely followed by rugged breathing and rhythmic wheezing. The whole ordeal was taxing for the mage, and he was not left unscathed.
But the dim, almost imperceptible glow that surfaced on the porcelain skin of the tiny pixie was all that the man needed to know, that the ritual has been a success. He got what he wanted now.
***[The next day]***
First, gentle rays of warm golden light announced the arrival of a new day, as they brushed the massive wooden shelves, tracing along the faded writings adorning the old, worn-down ornate surface towards the modestly decorated stone walls, as a tiny pixie, the room’s sole inhabitant, stirred and slowly opened her eyes. The chill of an early spring morning was biting into her exposed, pattern covered skin, yet she seemed unaffected.
As she slowly rose from her curled sleeping position, delicate hands shakily supporting her nigh non-existent weight, her curious dark blue eyes darted across the room, taking in the surroundings.
She might have been looking for answers, alas the contents of the room didn’t seem to provide any, as the look of confusion on her face didn’t fade in the slightest.
Shaking off the feeling of sleepiness with a swift slap on her cheek, the fairy finally seemed to notice what was amiss. Stretching out her petite limbs, she started inspecting her body, as if seeing it for the first time. Finally nodding to herself, her satisfied expression quickly turned sour as her fingers ran across a multitude of wooden bars encasing her within what seemed to be a circular bird cage.
A few quick jabs, punches and a lot of thrashing around, and the fairy finally got the clue that she will not be getting out without the help of an outside force. So she turned her attention back towards the rest of the room, scouring it with her sight expectantly.
A number of oddly shaped tables, shelves and chests rested atop the carpeted floor, housing an immense number of various books and contraptions that she did not recognise. The room itself was a mess, with countless documents, tomes and artefacts covering any space available, including but not limited to the floor, table tops, shelves, chests and even walls.
The pixie would have groaned in displeasure had her line of thought not been interrupted by the creaking sound of the rustic door opening, as a tall man in a pointy hat stepped inside. He appeared to be deep in thought, or perhaps just still sleepy, allowing the pixie a few moments to take a good look at the visage of her captor.
The man was very high, but then again anyone would appear giant from the evaluation point of a pixie. Long, ruffled white hair could be seen beneath his dark green wizard’s hat, matching his majestic, even if a little unkempt beard. His piercing violet eyes seemed to carry the wisdom of the ages, albeit no warmth could be felt from their gaze.
Light glimmered on the texture of his silken robe, decorated with a single row of golden runes, the meaning of which eluded the pixie. However one thing could be understood from his visage. In spite of the man’s apparent elderly age, his muscles were toned as if he was a seasoned warrior, which was in stark contrast to the rest of his appearance.
Lastly, dangling from a thin silvery chain hanging the mage’s neck was a weird crystal. It’s uneven angular surface seemed to be absorbing all the light from it’s surroundings, shrouding the gem in both darkness, and mystery.
The pixie looked at the crystal curiously as the man finally turned his thoughts outwards and his attention centred on the captive creature.
[You will start meditating immediately, and after gathering sufficient amount of mana, you will…] commandeered the mage, not paying any attention to the tilt of the pixie’s head.
[Um, excuse me? I think there might have been a mistake. I am a human. Could you please let me ou…] muttered the pixie, interrupting the mage who hasn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention to her complaints. The man didn’t take this well, as his expression twisted in rage.
[SILENCE! You will not talk unless talked to, and you WILL OBEY ME, OR YOU WILL KNOW PAIN] screamed the man at the shivering faerie, not wasting a single moment as his hand shot up, grasping for the ominous dark gem, as his mouth recited a short incantation.
“Oh, this is bad” thought the pixie as a sudden feeling of pain assaulted every single nerve in her body, tearing through the flesh and searing her soul. The agony was unlike anything she has ever experienced before, and all she could do was scream and thrash in despair as time and time again wave after wave of torturous suffering seized hold of her very being.
The torture might have lasted for merely a couple of seconds, but it felt as if it might as well have been decades. There was no strength left inside of the poor thing as the man raised his voice yet again.
[You WILL learn OBEDIENCE].
And then, as the drumming sound of the fading footsteps echoed across the damp hallway, resonating with the rhythmic throes within the little fae, she welcomed the embrace of the soothing darkness, calming her troubled soul.
*** [The next day | POV: the archmage] ***
I groaned loudly as I was ascending the long winding steps coiling their way along the walls of my tower, heading towards one of the rooms on the highest floor.
Yesterday’s events replayed in my head as I grimaced in distaste. The pixie’s childish appearance made it mentally taxing to train the familiar, but unfortunately this step could not be avoided.
My lips curled up ever so slightly as I started reminiscing about the good olden days, back when I apprenticed as a trainee mage. I used to swear to my master that I would never use the searing spell as a method to train any of my familiars, and would always opt for the benevolent, yet tediously slow alternative of gaining their trust and loyalty. I chuckled at my naive young self, just like my tutor did back then. Time is precious, and wasting years to train a mere temporary familiar for what could be done in weeks at most seemed foolish to me now.
While thinking of such things, I arrived at the door, shoving the old slab of withered wood out of my way, as the old hinges creaked in protest of the sudden movement. The creature jumped back in surprise, it’s cute little face contorting in fear.
I suppressed the pain in my heart before it could bloom into regret and settled on the feeling of satisfaction in regards to the progress of the training. The creature now knew fear. What was left for it to learn, was that as long as it obeys, there’s nothing more to fear.
[Ehm] I cleared my throat, as my eyes looked at the trembling figure curled into a ball in the corner of her cage.
[It appears yesterday’s lesson has succeeded in teaching you obedience. Now then, as I stated yesterday, what I require of you, my familiar, is to make use of that body I have given you, to gather as much mana as you possibly can.] I paused for a second, observing the hybrid, looking for any reaction.
It was obvious the creature has heard my commands, yet for some reason did not comply. Has yesterday’s punishment been too light? As I started reaching for my arcane heart, the pixie stiffened, and hastily opened her mouth, speaking timidly.
[Um, Sir, please… I don’t know how to gather mana…]. Replied the fae, not daring to even look directly at me. I will have to correct this behaviour at some point, but for now, the results of the training were... adequate.
[You are residing within the body of a pixie, gathering mana should come as easily to you as breathing does to humans. Considering that I’m neither a spirit nor an elf myself, I have no more guidance to give you in this matter.] I turned my back towards her, preparing to leave, yet before taking a step outside of the room, I stopped for a second, declaring my final order for the day.
[Well then, I will be expecting good results tomorrow.] As I was finally about to leave, an unexpected interruption halted my steps.
[Um, sir, please, could I ask you a que-question?] stuttered the pixie.
I furrowed my brows in displeasure, contemplating enacting more punishment on the disobedient runt, yet I felt oddly curious about what question could be important enough for the creature to risk my wrath. So I gracefully allowed it.
[Speak].
Her face darkened for a second, yet her eyes slowly moved up, looking directly into mine.
[Would… would you please let me… go home?].
I pinched the base of my nose. I knew that this was a possibility, yet hoped I would avoid such a troublesome scenario. Every once in awhile, the summoning ritual produced a defective familiar that kept claiming it was a human, sometimes even arguing about being from another world.
For some time, our best scholars, including the magnificent me, dedicated all of their attention towards researching whether any of these claims could be true. Countless years have been wasted collecting research samples and studying various cases of this occurrence, yet not a single one proved to be of any merit. All of the summoned creatures carried the characteristics of a familiar, and not a single one of them possessed any magic of their own... All humans possess at least some minuscule trace of magic.
Therefore it was concluded that this phenomenon must have been caused by a fluctuation in the saturation level of magic in the air at the time of the ritual, affecting the nature of the familiar and turning it into a mimic. There were no actual problems with the familiar itself, other than the familiar being more annoying to train, as the trainer first had to break it’s human facade first.
Recollecting my knowledge on the topic, I reached for my arcane heart and recited the incantation again, my back turning towards the screaming little creature.
I walked out of the room with a frown deepening on my face with each new shriek and sob. This day did not go as well as I hoped it would.
***[Three months later | POV: the familiar]***
My name is Silvia Skye. No, that was my name. The only names I am allowed to respond to now are “hey”, “you” or “familiar”.
It feels as if it has been an eternity since I was brought to this place. The first few weeks were the worst, as I was tortured endlessly for every minor sign of disobedience towards the man. There were many times that I contemplated ending it all, only to fail miserably due to the foreign anatomy of this body and being punished by the mage severely.
I have learned my lesson though, and soon enough started obeying his orders to the letter. Not only was I forbidden from dying, I wasn’t even allowed to wallow in self-pity, something that was so characteristic of teenagers of my age back home.
The cold hands of despair claimed me many times, yet the searing pain has always made sure that I would obey my orders, willing or not.
I still occasionally wonder what happened to me, to my family. The last thing I remember is riding home on a school bus with my friends when a truck suddenly toppled over, forcing the driver to steer the bus off the road. And then, there was darkness. Did I die on that day? If I did, was I reborn in this world?
That doesn’t make sense. Even though my body is tiny, it is not the body of a newborn, and I still carry all of my memories.
I just want to see mom and dad again. I hope they are all right. I hope they didn’t end up in a situation similar to mine. Oh god please let this all be a nightmare that I will wake up from.
But I must not waste time on such idle thoughts. If the man discovers that I have been slacking off on my training, there will be hell to pay. The throes of pain after each punishment make it even harder for me to gather mana, inciting even more harsh punishment, so I must be diligent.
I have tried asking master once about the purpose of my training, but he only told me in a cold voice, that I was meant to obey, not question. The pain that followed was meant to make sure, that I would not ask the same stupid question again.
Lately, the mage has started teaching me simple spells, as if preparing me for something. I am not brave enough to ask for what, so all I can do is obey silently...
*** [Few days later | POV: ?]***
“I…”
“I?”
“What is I?”
I know this place. I don’t like this place. I can remember this place. I can remember other places too... But I don’t remember this feeling. What is it? It’s as if suddenly something is different. I am scared. I don’t like it. I don’t like being scared. I don’t like being here...
Here comes the bad man. I remember. I remember the pain. The bad man... I can’t get out of here. I don’t like it here… I don’t like the bad man.
The bad man is saying something. I am not listening. But my body is. What is this feeling? What is different?
I am different. I am moving even if I don’t want to move. I am doing things. I can feel the things. I am hungry. I need more light, but the room is so dark.
I can hear a voice. The voice is inside my head. It’s thinking about the bad man… a mage? Is it tasty? I am hungry.
The voice is talking to itself. Thinking about things that don’t make sense.
I try talking to it, saying “hello”. But my voice is so tiny. I can’t hear it well. Can she not hear me?
***[A few months later]***
Lately we’ve finally been allowed to go outside! But no, we have not been freed. We have been assigned missions. Well, not “we”, but the other me. I’m just an extra that can’t do anything.
The other me is going into the forest, killing “monsters”. Why is it killing them? They didn’t do anything to the other me. I don’t like killing, even if it’s the other me. I think the other me doesn’t like killing either. My body often cries at night.
How do I know what crying is? I have been learning! I have seen images… places. Places where Sylvia used to live. Who is Sylvia? It’s the other me!
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
I have been hurt a few times. My hand was bit off by a huge wolf when the other me was being careless. But “master” fed us some sparkly stones and the hand grew back. I still don’t like feeling pain.
I don’t like eating the sparkly stones either, they taste… wrong.
But there’s nothing I can do, I am just an extra. So I’ve been learning. Learning from Sylvia. I learned to speak, and read, and think!
We are hurt again now. It hurts!
How can the man let us do such dangerous things?
He is an evil man.
***[A year after the summoning ritual | POV: Familiar]***
It has been a year since I started serving master. I have been slowly getting used to my life as a familiar, and I think I found my new purpose in life. Sure, it’s not all pink and pretty, but it’s my life now so there’s no point in me complaining.
I have gone through hell that would break any normal person. But here I am, happily cleaning master’s room. Master’s good to me, he only punishes me when I do something wrong. It’s all my fault you know? For disobeying master. I deserve the punishments.
But master has been behaving oddly as of late, murmuring to himself that the time of ascension was nigh. There is a lot I have yet to understand about master, so I didn’t pay any serious attention to it. All in due time.
Oh, here he comes. I beam my best smile at master. His eyes are cold as always but I know he’s gentle inside. My gentle master is just too shy to show his kindness. The pain is there for my own good, making sure I don’t do something stupid.
It seems master has released me from my cleaning duties tonight. We’re going down a long hallway towards a corridor I have been prohibited from entering ever since I was given free rein of the tower. Well, except for that corridor of course.
***
I was getting excited at the prospect of learning something new, and followed master merrily.
We entered an old, moldy room in the cellar. I had no recollection of this place, but it felt oddly familiar. The twisted black candles covered by a thick layer of dust gave the room an ominous feeling, but as I knew master, he probably just didn’t bother cleaning up the place since he last used it in one of his experiments.
[Go stand in the middle of that circle] said master, and I obliged immediately. It wouldn’t do to spoil his good mood by being too tardy.
As I readied myself for the ritual, a shiver ran up my spine. I was not being punished, was I? I have done nothing to displease master in a long time, but this was the first time I took part in one of his rituals, and I was understandably tense.
But I calmed my beating heart, steadying my clashing emotions. I can’t allow myself to falter here. I need to be of use to master.
Master raised his voice in an incantation, as the circle crackled with otherworldly energies. Violet tendrils of energy wiggled across the cold, moldy floor, as if blindly searching for something.
My heart pounded with an intensity that rivaled drums, scraping away my calm, collected facade with an ever increasing force. I was scared. I was so scared.
As the hazy image of the tendrils steadied, they shot out and grabbed something within me. Suddenly, I could feel the old, familiar searing pain.
[Ma...s...t...er, w...h...y?] I cried to the man staring at me, chanting his spell. But no response came, as the tentacles pulled at my soul. They were taking me! Was I to be discarded? Was I to be thrown away after all I have gone through? Was I unneeded?
No, no no no NO nO n0 NOo00OoO! I will not be so easily discarded!
Anger surged forth as I have come to the realisation that I will once again be reduced to nothingness, after all I have done for this man, in spite of the pain, the torture, and the treatment he has been giving me, as if I was not even a person.
With the last of my strength, I stretched out my hand and managed to fire off a single mana bolt, the simplest of spells he has taught me. It would not harm him, but I would not go down without a fight!
And then, I felt my soul leave the body I had inhabited for the past year, being dragged towards the floating ominous crystal that master used to always carry with him. I didn’t want to go, I didn’t want to…
***[30 minutes earlier | POV: the archmage]***
To be honest, at first I was quite unsure whether the ritual would be a success. But I had no other choice, as I was refused over and over again by those damned tree shaggers. This was the first time in my long life of six hundred years that I was faced with an impasse.
In my pursuit of knowledge, and by extension the ascension to the next step of human evolution, I have discovered a means to facilitate a change in the nature of human body that would allow for the birth of a completely new species, more powerful than any of the others.
The problem was, that the ritual I devised would require countless incredibly rare reagents, the most difficult of which to obtain would be the heart of a powerful spirit. And the only ones capable of summoning such beings are the elves.
And as expected, the pointy eared mushroom suckers refused me. They refused me over and over and OVER again until the king threatened me with cutting my research funding, had I not left the salad gobblers alone.
But how was I ever going to get my hands on such an artefact without the help of someone who could summon it for me? I am an archmage, not some leafy berry muncher who plays pretend with spirits at being friends.
My brilliance could not be defeated so easily, by such meager attempts at stopping my genius! If I couldn’t find a nice strong spirit to gut, I would make one myself.
Honestly, even securing a pixie, the lowest of the low among the spirits took everything I had, as spirit magic is usually only available to those of elven lineage, but with months of preparation I have managed to capture one of the blasted rodents.
It was a tiny light elemental pixie. I was surprised at how cute it looked, with it’s palm sized body and childish looks. The pixies in the books were always depicted with insect-like wings, or possibly butterfly ones, but this one had beautiful feathery wings made entirely out of pure white light.
But alas, in spite of wasting months gathering the required spiritual energy, this was merely the beginning on the arduous road towards acquiring a powerful spirit, for the pixie was weak. In fact, the pixie spirits were such low-level creatures, that they did not even possess a mind of their own, operating merely on base instincts, swarming towards natural congregations of their element’s mana. That was another thing I would have to fix. I would need to introduce other elements into the mix, but for that purpose elemental gems should do the trick.
The problem was finding a way to train the pixie, for where there is no mind, there is no mechanism to process orders, or learn techniques. So I had to devise a ritual that would bind a familiar’s soul to the pixie’s body, giving it intelligence and allowing me to control it.
The problem was, that as a rule familiars only ever possess dead bodies or golems, for there is rarely enough space for two souls to reside within a single vessel. To bind my familiar’s soul to a living body, I would have to dabble into soul magic.
Easier said than done though, as soulcraft was the forte of the mirage people, and me being an archmage had little to no power over matters of the soul. I could not risk others discovering my plans before their completion either, so the only choice I had left was to do it all on my own yet again.
I have spent the following months researching into the topic of soul magicks, only finding traces of obscure knowledge. The mirage people guarded their secrets zealously, and it was not easy to devise the ritual, but I found a way. I always do.
The price for obtaining that sort of power was steep though. Unlike spirit mana, which can be found in the nature freely, soul mana originated from a living being’s soul. In order for an archmage to make use of such energies, he would have to use a medium.
There was but one forbidden spell called the arcane heart, crystallizing almost all of one’s magical energies, save for the little bit required to sustain his life, into an artefact powerful enough to withstand the forces of soul magic.
The artefact would allow all the ambient energies to seep into it freely, feeding on them and growing stronger, but this artefact could be broken or stolen, taking away the utilised powers for good.
There had been many unfortunate souls who have suffered this fate in the past, culminating into nation-wide witch hunts in blind pursuit of power, wealth and fame.
But as I said, I had no other choice…
Arriving at my destination, I merely waved towards my familiar and turned back into the hallway, the pixie merrily following me, the way I taught her to.
I have grown fond of the little rodent over the course of the year we had spent together. She had served me faithfully, in spite of the harsh training I have forced upon her. I would contemplate finding her a new body once I’m done with the ritual. One that is more fitting for my familiar. But for the time being, I will have to keep her inside of my arcane heart, until I can find a suitable replacement for her vessel.
***[After the ritual | POV: ?]***
I could feel my life draining out of my body as the tentacles tore us away from each other. I have nearly succumbed to the enticing allure of darkness, threatening to take over, but the searing pain would not let me.
As the ritual was nearing completion, the other me managed to scrape up the very last remains of our strength to shoot a simple mana bolt. A statement that we would not go down without a fight, even if it was a fight we had no hopes of winning.
However the mana bolt did achieve something. In a momentary slip of the mage, caused by our unexpected resistance, his concentration wavered and the arcane tendrils pulled a just a bit harder than they should have.
I felt a loud cracking sound reverberate throughout the core of my being, causing my existence to start crumbling. I could feel myself disappearing, while the other me faded into the hovering dark crystal.
The mage was outraged. He was shouting, swearing and pacing around like a mad beast. And then, he rushed out of the room leaving me on the floor struggling to stay alive, my life bleeding out of me slowly.
Turning my head towards my limp limbs, a lock of dark black hair slid from my forehead as it could not resist the force of gravity. I liked the color of my hair. It used to be silvery white though. Why is my hair black now?
Such idle thoughts occupied my mind while I looked through my increasingly transparent hand. Is this how I die? Is this it? I have just awoken. I haven’t even had the opportunity to experience how it feels to move my limbs. Is it perhaps too late now?
A soft smile appeared on my face as I tried to move my fingers for the very first time. And they did. Pain was the price, but my body, for the first time in my life, moved according to my own will.
“I want to live” a single tear fell down my face. “I want to live” I repeated in despair.
Throughout my life as the observer of the other me, I have learned a great many things, some of which I would have preferred being oblivious to, such as the concept of death.
“NO!” I screamed in a hoarse animalistic voice.
“NO!” I repeated, commanding my body to move. I had to do something. Anything. I will not die here, I will live and experience life.
As I slowly lifted my dying body off the cold, filthy floor, my eyes rested upon the accursed crystal, still hovering up in the air, as if it in mockery of my limp wings.
I could feel the energy seeping from the contraption. I could feel MY energy inside of that accursed thing. I would NOT let it have it. I would not let the time I have spent a prisoner in my own body be wasted for some greedy man’s folly.
I gathered all my remaining strength, and flapped my wings. Once, twice, I was slowly gaining altitude, rushing towards the artefact. A feeling not unlike agony attacked my senses as I collided with it, feeling the remains of my life being consumed by the darkness within. I would not let it have what it wants. It wants to consume me? I will consume it instead!
I wasn’t thinking clearly as my teeth sunk into the rock hard surface of the jewel, as I heard a roar of anger and pain resound across the halls of the tower. He knew.
The first bite was the most difficult. Swallowing the hard substance felt as if I was trying to eat rocks, which technically wasn’t wrong. With each bite I took, I grew stronger, yet I could also feel the energies stored within the artefact changing me.
I could not afford to waver now, for the screams of anger were drawing nearer. In a last ditch effort, I gobbled up the remaining piece, feeling my pain slowly fading, and my broken core being replaced by something... different.
“Run” a soft voice whispered within my mind, warning me of the approaching danger, yet before I could muster up my strength one more time to escape, the crashing sound of splintered wood deafened me.
I snapped my head towards the source of the sound and saw the mage’s figure standing where the massive door once used to be. His face was the manifestation of rage, and he was breathing heavily and wheezing very loudly. He seemed to be in pain, as his shoulder was rested on the door frame, not moving at all.
[To think that the freaking beast would go after my arcane heart to repair the broken core… I was careless.] murmured the mage, apparently talking to himself.
[No matter, after I gut you and take out your heart, I will finally be able to ascend, and none of this will matter in the least.] a maniacal grin spreading across his face.
Has he already forgotten about Silvia? About us? Or did he not care in the first place.
I had to escape this man, and I had to escape him fast. But these accursed markings on my skin prevented me from returning to my spiritual form. The only relief in this whole situation was that he would no longer be able to inflict that horrid pain on me without his precious crystal.
The man suddenly started moving, but he didn’t appear to be in a rush. He was just slowly limping towards me, as if he didn’t even consider that I could try to escape him. Then it hit me. He still thinks I’m just an empty husk acting on an impulse!
This realisation just presented me with the only opportunity I would have to turn tails and run from this psycho. I will just have to wait for the right moment when he’s far enough from the door, yet not close enough to me.
Then my face froze in fear. The man stood stiffened, looking straight into my eyes, which were darting between him and the door.
“Oh god, he knows!” I panicked as I darted off with all my might.
His hand reached for me, but only managed to brush one of my wings briefly as I rushed for the door. The sudden force threw me off and I ended up crashing into the wall in the hallway. The man was immediately upon me.
Feeling scared out of my mind, I called upon the element I was most familiar with, as the hallway got covered by a blinding light, temporarily confusing the mage. Making use of this tiny opening, I ran away at full speed.
I knew the insides of the tower like the back of my own hand, as we used to clean it’s every nook and cranny daily. I also knew that I would never be able to escape from the front door, as it was usually kept locked to prevent intruders. But one of my wings was hurt in the crash and I was unsure whether I would be able to keep flying for long.
I had no other options though, as falling to my death would still be preferable to being butchered alive by this madman.
To make absolutely sure he would not have time to follow me, I started climbing up to the top of the tower, his bellowing shouts echoing across the empty halls as he regained his sight.
My whole body was hurting, but none of it could compare to the pain in my right wing. But I had to keep up this pace, or else he’d catch up to me.
Then suddenly, a blast of arcane energy arced millimeters from my face. The sudden gust of wind that followed in it’s trajectory sweeped my wings from under me and I started plummeting towards the ground.
I closed my eyes and expected an impact, but none came. As I opened my eyes, I could see the red face of the mage shouting at me from the window of a tower, as I kept falling.